#what do you do when you lose a close connection with someone that used to tell you you made every day of their life better

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 12

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason)  Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Part 12:

Danny asked himself why he even bothered with this game of cat and mouse with the bats. They already knew he could go intangible, so what was the point?

It was another day, another chase; another case of Red Helmet not showing up. This was the third time, not counting when he’d sneaked back invisibly and intangibly in the morning for another roll of heavy duty cable after that first night Red Helmet hadn’t shown.

Was he alright? Was he hurt? Had he just given up?

His core cried out in sorrow lamenting the connection he couldn’t make. It didn’t matter that he never had a connection to begin with, now he felt not only lost, but abandoned. 

It was stupid. 

He didn’t want to do this anymore. Yet here he was, playing chase. He’d already lost two vigilantes tonight, but they kept popping up like wack-a-moles. His current tail was Sunshine, who was a rare participant, he’d only showed up recently but unlike the others he had powers, which made losing him in the traditional sense hard.

He should just leave, but what if Red Helmet showed?

Also it was habit. Habit was a comfort to his hurting core. Ghosts were creatures of habit and mischief. The chase even while it exhausted him was the only bit of play he had. It used to be, early in his stay in Gotham, that he actually had fun. He wasn’t sure at what point it became more habit than fun. It had probably been a gradual sneaking thing.

When Danny first arrived in this world through a training accident and a random portal, he hadn’t been worried. Sooner or later he would find a new natural portal to return to the Ghost Zone and from there he could find home. Natural portals happened all the time, they were like vents, opening and closing to relieve pressure and keep the balance between worlds. Danny had a knack for finding them. He didn’t know whether it was due to dying in a portal or because of his adventures with the Infi-map, but it was a skill he’d developed. So while a couple of years prior he would have been worried about going through a portal, not so much anymore.

He didn’t recognize the city he landed in, it was a regular metropolis with towering skyscrapers, chrome and glass. One building had a giant globe on top with a sign pronouncing it the Daily Planet. Flying about invisibly and people watching, he’d first come to the conclusion he had to be in the future. The technology was just way too advanced when it came to what every day people had in their pockets.

His sightseeing had taken him to a place called Star Labs - how could Danny not check it out with a name like that? And he was not disappointed. They seemed to be doing a little bit of everything; medical research, weapons, strange things he didn’t even know what was (and Danny knew strange things), but best of all spacecraft. 

He’d been looking at a nanotech self-repairing coating for a future spacecraft when it happened; Alarms blared. The lights changed to red. Alert, Danny had remained still and invisible. He wasn’t necessarily the cause of the alarm, and making a sound now would only make him the cause of alarm for the suddenly nervous scientists in the room.

They all waited to see what would happen and eventually the doors opened admitting white armored security guards - the color immediately sent his hackles rising, the lights flickered momentarily but thankfully nobody noticed. All were focused on the security guards scanning the room with their anonymous visors.

Someone pointed towards the corner and guns were raised. The poor scientist standing there raised his hands frantically babbling, begging that he hadn’t done anything, please don’t shoot- The stream of words became just that to Danny, like water rushing in his ears. 

They weren’t pointing at the scientist; they were pointing at Danny. 

He moved, only just in time, flying up through the ceiling. The guns whirred behind him, with a high pitched charging sound and not like normal gunshots at all, no too much like-

Heat erupted in his side and he screamed. It took all his willpower to keep his invisibility, to keep his form. His head snapped around frantically, even in a new room he saw only armored white closing in. Place was crawling with them. A wail was building in his throat. No! He was in a city, he couldn’t! Panic fueled him as he kicked off the floor in a burst of speed, up up up. Floor after floor until the evening sky opened up above him in burning reds and oranges. 

He hadn’t stopped, he’d sped away from the city. 

At present Danny pressed himself against a wall, watching Sunshine reconvene with Purple from his hiding place above them. Seeing the two vigilantes were busy he sneaked carefully around the  corner of the building to put the building between them. He kept in the shadow of a pipe as he started jogging. 

Thinking about Star Labs he couldn’t help but touch a hand to where the energy blast had hit him - he’d scarred. It hadn’t been ectoplasm based, Danny would have known, but if they could hurt him, they could find a way to capture him, to keep him captured. 

That was why Danny had tried to limit the usage of his powers in Gotham. If he could pass for just a regular thief, maybe someone with cloaking tech,  If they guessed what he was they would be one step closer to- No! He couldn’t think about that, he needed to keep his head in the game. 

The midget sprung down in front of him, and Danny changed directions. How many of them were out here today? And with how many what were the odds Helmet wasn’t out here somewhere? Danny was tiring. But maybe there was hope? 

His thoughts drifted again as he ran.

When Danny had taken a moment to catch his breath after his escape from Star Labs, he’d started to look for a portal. He’d had enough of this future, but he hadn’t found a single one. He’d flown around trying to sense one until he’d been forced to set down in a forested area, transforming from the exhaustion. 

He hadn’t understood then why he was so tired.

Strangely breathless he’d pulled out his phone and called Tucker. If he could trust one person to always be near his technology it was Tucker - The number couldn’t be reached. Next he’d tried Sam, then Jazz, then Mom and Dad, none of the numbers could be reached. 

Terrified of what could have happened to them, Danny had started walking. He needed somewhere he could access technology. He’d discovered the burn on his side had carried over to his human form, because his shirt stuck to the blistering mess. He’d been in too much shock to notice the pain. But as he walked it became more and more apparent. He didn’t have anything in his backpack to dress the wound. 

As evening encroached, Danny had come upon a road. He picked right for his direction, walking in the leafy underbrush on the side of the road. The road was long and straight and relatively well travelled even as evening moved on into twilight, which was already pretty dark due to the shadows of trees. The now fewer cars had blinding headlights and Danny was careful to look away from them - not just for his poor eyes’ sake, but he really didn’t need to cause an accident, he never knew when his eyes would decide to reflect light like some sort of cryptid roadside ghoul. 

Danny was exhausted - too exhausted, but he tried to ignore the tumble of worried thoughts that wanted to be released from where he’d chained them up. He was considering just finding a soft spot to lie down for a nap, but some niggle of fear he couldn’t explain told him he might just be more exhausted if he stopped. No, walking on was safer. He needed to get to a place where there were people, and he didn’t risk getting mauled by wildlife because he was tired.

A truck stopped just ahead of him after a crescent moon had risen in the sky. Danny felt more full dead than half dead as he walked up to the truck. The window was rolled down.

“My wife’ll kill me for picking up hitchhikers so near Gotham if you’re a serial killler,” a rough female voice spoke from the cabin. 

Danny blinked. What? He managed to say, “uh?”

The driver leaned over far enough that she could open the door and actually see him. She had short cropped curly hair, a nose that looked like it had been broken before and judging dark eyes that swept up and down Danny’s arguably pitiful state of being. 

“Well, are you?” She enunciated.

“What?” “A serial killer?” Danny held his arms out helplessly. “I’m not, but if I was, that would also be my response, ma’am.”

She huffed a short bark of laughter. “So you got a bit o’ sass. Jump in then. Heading to Gotham?”

“Sure.” Danny replied, and climbed up. He’d never heard about a town by that name, but it was the second time the lady had mentioned it and who really knew where he was except somewhere in the US. He buckled in under watchful eyes, and in moments they were off.

“So you from somewhere in the Midwest?”

“Illinois, ma’am.” It was a safe enough topic, and Danny was so relieved to sink into soft seats and relax. His backpack was safely between his knees, even if it didn’t hold much of value and the cabin warm but not too warm.

“What brings you all the way out to Jersey?”

“Would you believe me-“ Danny covered his mouth as he was a assaulted by a yawn. “Sorry. If I said I don’t know?”

She glanced away from the road towards Danny momentarily. “Wouldn’t be the strangest thing.”

She reached into a cooler box and pulled out a sweating can that she handed to him. “Here, you’re pale as a ghost.” He accepted the can with shaking hands. Only his heart had jumped at the comparison, not his whole body, he reassured himself. He frowned thoughtfully as he examined the can. Zesti Cola the cursive lettering declared.

“Is this a local brand?” Danny asked thoughtlessly as he opened it up.

He realized his mistake as soon as it was out of his mouth at the incredulous look he got. “It’s only the biggest brand worldwide.”

Danny coughed. “Guess I must have grown up more sheltered than I thought.” 

He’d take the pitying look over any suspicion. He took a sip and it tasted a bit sweeter than the cola he was used to. His body welcomed the sugar and the liquids. He was usually more resilient than this. 

After finishing the pop, and putting the can in the trash bag as directed it wasn’t long until he fell asleep. 

He woke a bit disoriented when they stopped at a gas station an unknown amount of time later. And as memories flooded in he immediately knew what had been wrong with him. There had been absolutely no ambient ectoplasm in the air. He’d burned up his own rapidly using his powers for hours and healing a wound to boot. The difference was blatantly obvious now that he was in an area with ectoplasm in the air. He didn’t feel near as tired, his muscles and the wound ached less.

He stepped out of the truck along with the driver, and pulled his backpack back on. He looked up to the dark cityscape towering above them - so Gotham was definitely not a town. 

“Hey, kid.”

Danny resisted the instinctual urge to protest that he was nineteen, so not a kid, but that was personal information he didn’t want to give. 

“Yeah?” She walked around the truck to face him. “Gotham is a very good city to disappear in, but it’s also a good city to disappear in, you feel me? So take care?”

Danny swallowed at the ominous warning, but he was confident he could protect himself. He nodded. “Thanks for the ride, ma’am.”

Danny snapped out of the memory as a staff came down for his head. Jumping back he saw the midget had been joined by criss-cross bandolier guy.

He changed direction again and mused, that at this rate he’d go through all the vigilantes of Gotham tonight; but there was only one he wanted to see. He wasn’t showing and that was good, he reminded himself.

Zesti Cola and Gotham had been the clues Danny needed to know he was not in the future but in an entirely different reality. The following days he’d explored the limits of Gotham’s ambient ectoplasm. He’d quickly realized that to leave Gotham would be extremely dangerous to him. He might survive on human food, but any use of his powers would leave him weak and vulnerable, and as someone who didn’t even have an identity in this world - nobody would notice if he did disappear. 

Clockwork didn’t answer him. He couldn’t rely on anyone finding him here, they could become just as stuck as him. The only real solution was to build a portal. 

Danny was too late to divert from his path when he realized he was running towards a dead end, brick walls on two sides and concrete on the last, going up several stories. It was just as good a sign as any that it was time to end the chase. His stupid core could mourn Red Helmet’s absence just as easily from his hide-out as it could from here. 

He was prepared to turn intangible and go through the wall straight ahead. 

It was a relief the chase would be over. Weariness dragged at him more so now that he knew it would soon be over. Just three more long strides and the next would take him through the wall.

One. Two-

Electricity flared bright blue and flickering, dancing dangerously across the wall. Danny froze in place, in a way only possible due to his powers, as he instantly cancelled his momentum. Momentum that would have otherwise- No, he couldn’t think about that now. He had to focus, no panic, he could panic later, when he was free. He spun around. Electricity sparked all around him turning into a blur of dancing lightning. He dug his nails in to the palms of his hands. The path he’d come from was blocked by the bats. Blue Bird with his terrifying sticks, had joined the other two. 

The world wavered around him. He couldn’t breathe. His heart was so loud in his ears. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood in his mouth. It was not over yet. 

He sunk into the ground, but pain, terrible and familiar lanced up through his legs and he jumped up with a yelp. He stared down at the asphalt beneath his feet in terrified realization; there were live power lines running through the ground.

Danny gritted his teeth and faced his pursuers grimly.

Bandoliers gave Danny a triumphant smile. “Gotcha.”

-

There you have it, Tim's plan to capture Danny, helped along by Danny being distracted. Next time we will see if it works ;)

I don't know that I'm entirely happy with this chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways. Now that it's written and out at least I can hope to get something I'm more satisfied with for the ao3 version.

You can subscribe to the story by subscribing to the masterlist

Update: next

#dp x dc #dead on main #Jason is catnip to Danny #missed connections #Wherever Jason is I can guarantee he is unhappy

[eaudecrow]

Well, I promised context to anyone who begged sweetly, and that’s sweet though for me. (I say as if I haven’t been dying to rant about them for weeks.)

The short story: The Target, aka Din, is the assassination target of Father Kilter’s adopted revenant kid, Pigeon. If Din dies, both they and Pidge will rot in an existence worse than hell, as the unjust death and necromancy magic fuses their souls together in eternal agony. Kilter stays in contact with Din via Sending and Dream spells to keep the two apart (and manages to steal their heart by being wet and pathetic and teaching them how to care).

The full story (buckle the fuckle up):

So. The Target. They have what we’ll call a… justified god complex. As the self-appointed harbinger of truth, they run around exposing secrets and toppling corrupt governments for the betterment of the world. Unfortunately, this makes them public enemy number one. So what did they do to keep themself safe?

Trade away their face, of course.

The Target bargained with Truth itself. They would give it their long-lived service, in exchange for the power to mete out justice and a face that cannot be remembered. The moment you look away, you forget it.

Now their enemies have a new problem to contend with. How do you kill someone who can’t be found or even identified? The answer comes in the form of a revenant: a being so hellbent on killing one person, it always knows their target’s position, regardless of what magic is used to hide them. And this target is so important to eliminate that a necromancy cult artificially manufactures one to go after them.

Enter Pidge.

For a while, the only thing Father Kilter could do when the Target got too close was hold Pigeon as they scratched and stabbed and clawed, trying to bring about their own end as well as some random stranger’s. He had no idea who the target was, no way to contact them and keep them far, far away from his kid, no way to keep them safe—so he jumped at the chance to spy on them when they happened to pass within viewing distance.

One poorly-timed hunting snare later, and Kilter was left hanging upside down, before their horse, at their mercy.

Luckily they seemed inclined to have mercy. Despite Kilter’s terrible attempts at lying and generally suspicious nervous energy, their curiosity was piqued. They let him down. They joined him for some wine, even, introducing themself as “Din”. The two had a chat that started with each trying to subtly pick the other apart, and ended with Kilter completely losing that battle—so desperate for a semblance of help and genuine connection, that he spilled his backstory and his secrets to this literally faceless stranger. All they had to do was touch his knee and say “you aren’t alone” and he was FINISHED. In the end, he had no choice but to trust that they had good intentions and the means with which to act upon them.

That’s where things are at in the canon campaign. Outside of that, @couchtaro and I have been going FERAL over future things such as:

Kilter finally being able to touch someone bare-handed in their shared Dreamscape

Them providing Kilter a place to sleep without being haunted by Pestilence’s manipulative nightmares, and it somehow devolving into cuddles

To get around the face enchantment, Kilter reading the arch of their nose and brow and lips like braille, memorizing the shape of their scar so that he can recognize them by touch

The Target’s myriad 14-foot thick, adamantium emotional barriers getting blasted to itty bitty pieces by Kilter fixing their blood-loss-induced hypothermia with his own body heat

They’re so suspicious of each other right now. Little do they know they’re in for a rollercoaster of learning what it means to love, and by proxy what it means to live. Thanks for asking @booksandberries!

#d&d #dnd #dungeons & dragons #Ironsworn #ocs #and now you all know why their name is #din mctarget #father kilter #pigeon #pidge #dead on revival #corvid crows #I’m normal.

[strawberry-daiquiris]

💙 drunken kiss / tipsy -- i know you said you'd never write it ... but lestappen in your girl!lando verse

oh anon, honestly... you don't know the power you've wielded here because i truly did believe i'd not write it, but when i saw this prompt and i had a nice short way of doing it... i had to!!! please enjoy, i will always be nervous about my max and charles voices lmao.

_____________________

“Charlie! Charlie! We’re leaving.”

Charles barely hears George over the music, dancing with her eyes closed, packed in by hundreds of other beautiful people in short dresses and open shirts. She can still feel the tears drying on her cheeks, the snot in her nostrils from crying about him. 

“Are you coming with us, or not?”

She opens her eyes, blinking the flashing colours out of the way before she focuses on George. Her hair is in loose waves around her neck, sticking to her skin from the sweat. Alex is right behind her, a possessive hand on George’s waist, fingers curled into the silk of her dress. It’s daring, almost, for them, and Charles doesn’t want to be involved with whatever game they’re playing. 

“It’s fine, you go, you go.” Charles cranes her neck, searching for someone she knows, enough of a connection to the dark room that George will abandon the pretence that she wants Charles to come with them, and not to ditch her so she can go and do whatever it is that lesbians do. Charlie thinks there’s nipple sucking involved, and maybe dildos. The closest she’s ever got to it was kissing Lando in a game of truth and dare, but she thinks they’re not supposed to talk about that anymore. “Pierre is here, and Max. I will be fine.”

Carlos is still here too, somewhere, but she doesn’t mention that, or George will never leave. Charles turns her head to the sky, swaying to the music, ignoring both the creeping fear she doesn’t look sexy, and George’s worried glances as Alex steers her towards the door.

An hour could’ve passed, or two minutes, when she feels a tap on her shoulder. 

“For you,” Max’s smile is wide, reaching both corners of his face, like he’s so happy his jaw is unhinging. He didn’t even win the Championship today, nothing squared off except Checo’s P2. Charles wishes… but then, it hasn’t been the year for dreaming, for her. “Champagne. Christian, of course, bought the bottle.”

Charles snorts, taking a delicate sip, trying to avoid the bubbles from sparkling in her nose. 

“Mate, I should not be drinking this. Fred would be so…”

Fred wouldn’t care, Charles remembers. He’d probably take the bottle for himself, sit in a corner and laugh at his good luck. She keeps forgetting, since Mattia left, that she doesn’t need to be fearful of getting too close to the drivers from the other teams. Doesn’t need to hang her existence off Carlos and Maranello and being the sweet, innocent Madonna they imagine on her knees.

“You gave a good fight, today,” Max yells, and Charles can feel his spit on her cheek, letting her mouth drop open so it falls on her tongue. Sometimes, she wants Max more than she knows what to do with, and she’s heard things. That Kelly and him are sleeping in separate bedrooms, that she’s not in Vegas because they’re waiting until the end of the season to call it off. “When you went into the chicane? Ha, I was thinking maybe the deg would…”

Max makes a sweeping gesture with his arm, one of the classics. Charlie knows exactly what he’s getting at, the exact millimetres needed to take one of the corners and not lose pace. The guy he nearly hits in the face? Not so much. She reaches a hand out, stops him from taking out half the drinks on the dance floor. 

“Can we go somewhere?” Charles shouts, and suddenly she can’t think of anything she wants to do less than dance, in a tight dress, surrounded by guys who think she’s only a 7 because she’s got natural breasts and doesn’t really know how you contour your face. “I don’t care where.”

Max takes a full bottle from the table on their way to the door, and Charlie keeps her head down when they pass a group of Ferrari mechanics by the bar. Pierre spots them, narrowing his eyes, and Charles flips him off, then nods. She knows what she’s doing. 

“You cannot just get married here, of course,” Max tells her as they walk down past one of the chapels, way off the strip by now, swigging from the bottle of champagne. It’s cold, too cold for her dress, and Max’s AlphaTauri jacket is big on her shoulders, smells like him and his cologne. “You have to apply for the licence, yes? And they won’t let you do it when you’ve had drinks…”

He holds up the bottle, sloshing some onto his shirt. Max’s hair is a mess, and Charles leans a hand out to flatten it, automatically. She can’t remember the last time they were somewhere together, drunk. Monaco, maybe. New Year’s. Kelly had been there, and Charles’ boyfriend at the time. She can remember watching them kiss at midnight, soft and sincere, whilst Laurent pawed at her arse and ground his crotch against hers.

She broke up with him the next week. 

It had just run its course. 

“So we cannot tonight then?” Charlie purrs, and she knows it’s a bit unfair, but she’s wanted someone to flirt with all night, ever since Carlos told her he was bringing her, some model, his new girlfriend. “That is a shame, Max.”

“Ah, the press would love it.”

“Mmm,” Charles takes the bottle from him, and threads her other hand with his, swinging it between them and making him twirl her under the neon flashing lights of the chapel. “Mrs Charlie Verstappen.”

Max frowns, dragging her to a halt, and they’re very close. Above them, Cupid swings with a creak.

“You would keep your own name,” Max says seriously, and when he swallows around the lump in his throat, Charles can see it. And she knows then, that he’s thought about it, about destiny and soul mates and all the foolish things she starts to believe when she looks at their birth charts and the twin signs in their lives. La predestinata. “Of course.”

“Of course.” Charles nods, exaggerated and slow, and when she stops, she leaves her face tilted skywards. If he doesn’t take the hint now, Charles thinks, then he never will.

Max takes the bottle from her hands before he does anything, placing it carefully at their feet, and when he wraps his arms around her to a chorus of honks from a passing limo, Charles knows.

This time, it’s going to be different. 

#oh the parallels!!!! #honking cars dubious fidelity getting too close in clubs #no wonder everyone was gossiping in abu dhabi!!!! #precious charlie and the weight of ferrari oof #girl!charles #lestappen #girls just wanna f1 #my fic #fic ask meme

[keelt9]

Chapter 4

Masterlist

It was the second time in a row my shoulder got stiff in the middle of a session. 

“Ok, let's take a time out.” Anton has been really patient with me, still I know some exercises must already be a piece of cake.

“It’s all right Y/N these exercises are the toughest ones, we are in a good time.” Liam knows this drill is helping me with my mobility and my muscle strengthening, still the stability and control in my shoulder is trouble.

5 days ago, we went through a very sentimental moment. Grabbing a bow was part of my daily routine; after I got injured, seeing a bow was odd. The effort you need for you to tighten the bowstring is around 20-30 kg; after I get injured I barely can rotate my shoulder without feeling a crashing sensation. The adrenaline that was running all over my body along my heart rate faster formed a smile on my face.

After that day, all passed in a blink. I felt I open and close my eyes, suddenly; in a week the coaches will come. 

“What about if you try now with an arrow?” Anton says, picking one of the arrows next to my stuff. Where was the part of taking it slow?

“We talked about it Y/N, you need to lose the fear and try again.” I move my head so I can observe Liam who keeps hiding at the back of Anton. 

“Don’t look at me.” Liam laughs and walks to stand at my left, just a few centimeters from me so he can grab the bow; without the sling, which is what keeps connecting the bow with my hand, it always comes out so someone must grab it. 

“Try it.” Anton closed my hand around the bow and nock the arrow.

I hear Liam in the middle of my faltering. “Steady, calm and breath.” I adopt the anchor position, I grip the bowstring and wait a second until my shoulder finds stability along my hand, in a blink the stiffness appears and disappears in seconds. When I get the right spot and my shoulder feels right, I let it go.

The electricity I feel as I hear the sound of the arrow pass through the bow is out of this world; my wrist remembers the followthrough movement, I end with a grind appearing in my face.

“Nice shot.” Anton claims watching the arrow hit the red circle. “8” 

My picky side knew with these conditions; no strong air, or gust, I always get 9 and 10, not 8 close to 7. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve done better.” Liam shakes his head as he disassembles the bow, still couldn’t hold his need of teasing me before leaving.

“Couldn’t agree more, you get me used to 10.” He giggles and pats my back. “I’ll take charge of this, take your time and go rest, that's enough for today.” He grabs all our stuff with Anton's help and leaves the room.

I start to take the tape out of my fingers; I always bandage my fingers even when I use the finger tab; it gives confidence knowing my fingers have a plus of protection, especially after not practicing for a little bit more than a year. 

However that last like 2 seconds because after hearing the pop of the door I heard it one more time, just in these case someone crash with me, hugging me as soon as can reaches me, one hand at the back of my neck and the other in the middle of my back, leaving me breathless for the impact.

“That…That was out of this world!” I recognize his fragrance and the difference of height. Max came out of nowhere.

“Where do you come from?” I put my hands at his back, having him near calms me. 

“I’ve been watching you from that window.” He turns around not to let me go, so I can see the window. “You've been amazing. I told you, didn't I?”

This time he let me go but still grabbed me by my arms softly. 

“A hazy reference.” I joke with him making his tongue click, the silence that follows, give me time to do what in these past weeks it’s been a habit, let his blue eyes bring me harmony.

The sound of people talking outside gets me back to the moment. “What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Belgium?” I move softly so we can split. 

“I am.” Max laughs and grabs his cap which I didn’t realize was laying on the floor. “Ok, I’ll be, I just have to make a quick stop…”

He stops talking, I move my head and encourage him to keep doing it. “For…” 

“I need a recharge.” I furrow my eyebrows.

“Recharge?” 

“I will spend 3 full days surrounded by the press, which sometimes drives me crazy, so I have to recharge… of soothing.” I’m lost.

“Where do you get that?” I ask him scoffing trying to put my hands on my waist, but he grabs one and helps me to take off the bandage of one of my fingers. 

“Am I allowed to show you?” This is weird, still I assent and he bites his lip before kissing forehead. “Just being here.”

He didn’t know, but that soft peck left a burning sensation on me.

-

“Since when have you watched F1?” Liam scares me when I hear him at my back.

“Damn it! You scare me.” I turn my phone down. “It’s early, what are you doing here?” 

Liam looks at me suspiciously. “The same as you. I want to arrive early.” 

Even though I have made a big progress, from time to time basic movements, exercise or releases turn it pretty bad.

“I’ll help you with that.” He sees the brown tape over my lap. 

“Yes, please.” Laim sits in front of me grabbing my hand and bandages my fingers.

“Are you going to tell me or I have to ask?” He calls for my attention who is already on the screen of my phone one more time.

“Hmm?” Liams shakes his head, still grabbing my hand but points to the T-shirt which is perking in my bag. “Oh, am, right, it's… It's a gift.” A quick answer.

“A strange shirt, watching F1, in the same city as the Red Bull Facilities.” Liams cuts the last piece of tape and sees right to my eyes. “Plus a cap in your apartment.” 

“Liam…” He interrupts me, a kind smile on his face.

“Just…just don't create something that could hurt you. Don't let someone create something that could hurt you, ok?” Max won't do that, but I know I would do that to myself. 

“We're here just for a while, in a few months we will be in home training for the competitions, all right?” I know he says that because is concerned and wants the best for me, still causing me an unpleasant sensation.

When we called a wrap, I grabbed my phone to see Max's answer. <Call anytime> He is now in Zandvoort and in three days he has his home race. 

I'm not sure calling him knowing the press is surrounding him, and I’m feeling anxious is a good idea.

<Y/N! YOU ARE SO ANNOYING!> Mia's message makes me laugh, she is so convinced that I’m worried about nothing.

I stretch my shoulder, maybe I panic but these days I feel the sensation of stiffness coming back and not leaving. I did some stretches a couple of times until the stiff disappeared.

“Try to rest ok? I’ll pick you tomorrow morning.” Liam squeezed my left arm. “Everything is going to be fine.” I just press my lips together, faking a smile. “Night Y/N” 

Late at night I took a quick shower and grabbed one of the ice bags and sat in the bed, hoping that my mind is playing tricks with my body. I grab my phone taking my time to answer all my messages. Mom and dad with supportive messages, the team wishing me success and Mia keeps bothering about my overthinking; finally I take my time to answer Max. 

<I’m sorry I can’t be there.> He explains his useless attempts to get rid of work but he just gets the chance to leave after the race ends. I’ll expect that, still I feel a little bit down, it’ll be really helpful having him around. 

My answer was cut for his video call.

“Hi, there!” He has his messy hair sign as he probably uses his cap all day. “Are you all right?” I forgot I have the ice bag over my shoulder.

I take it off, resting importance. “I am a little bit sore but I’m fine.” He knows I’ll keep talking and saying what's on my mind. “I feel like I’m gonna cry any minute.” I shake my head, letting all my fears and vulnerability show to him. “What if I fail? What if they don’t see what they want to see? If I fail I can’t picture my life another year watching, being a spectator.” 

Max hears me all the time, his eyes express compassion and a lot of understatement even though he has probably never been in my place.

“I’m sorry, which was your last medal?” I scoff because he is always taking out; I got 2 of 3 gold medals in my last competition. “I’ve seen you working hard, all the effort you put on rehabilitation and with my, now deep compression about archery, Y/N you will get the green light, you won’t have to wait anymore. Let’s make a bet.” 

I wipe the tears from my eyes and take a deep breath smiling at him. 

“I’ll be there. When you shoot an arrow and hit the 10, I’ll be the first one from the terraces screaming at you, I told you.” I laugh, he lifts a weight off my shoulders.

“God, I wish you could be here.” I thought I said it to myself but apparently I said it out of loud. 

“I wish to be there too.” His eyes shift to an angry mood, so I change the subject. 

“How does it feel to be at home?” I sit with my cross leg, seeing him rolling his eyes and covering his face breathing out loudly.

“Fine but it will be better if I don’t have a reporter every 3 seconds close to me.” Max is an introverted guy even everybody though he likes the spotlight. 

“Just a couple of days and you’ll be free…” He smiles at me with his sleepy eyes stuck to my face. “For gaming all day.” He laughs with me. 

“Promise me one thing?” Max says his cellphone now in what seems to be the restroom, he points at me with his toothbrush. “You will take it with calm, breath and enjoy the day.” 

My eyes are half closed now. I raise my pinky finger and swear it to him. “What cost them it was just one day?” Max keeps complaining about not being able to come. 

“You be with me.” He rolls his eyes bluffing. 

“How?” I stretched and grabbed the T-shirt at the border of my bed. 

“Here.” I show it to him, pointing to the lion in the middle of the shirt. “You say it, a small you.” I feel my eyes close, still his giggles makes me smile.

“Sleep well Y/N.” I nod, burying my face in the shirt.

“Be safe.” I whisper to him, ending the call, the last thing I saw is his smiling eyes.

-

I get down my head tapping my finger on my shoulder silently praying the pain I feel is for my nerves instead of something going on.

Then the sound of voices increased until I could easily recognize the voice of Anton, Liam and 3 more voices, the main coach, Robert; the coach of the team, Marie Anne and a manager of the federation, Will. I stood quickly adjusting all the equipment all over me and taking a deep breath before the door opened.

“There is, a golden one.” Robert smiles and opens his arms causing Marie Anne to roll her eyes still smiling at me. “You look great.” He kisses both of my cheeks and Marie Anne follows him.

“Y/N, you look amazing.” She said taking time to look at me. “Let’s get started, all right?”

Each one of them took a seat in one of the chairs, Liam explains along with Anton as they point different parts of my shoulder, making emphasize in how great has been my rehabilitation and how optimistic they feel.

“What about you Y/N? Are you feeling well?” Robert asks me and takes notes in his hateful green notebook. 

Behind the doors, the team and I gossip about that notebook is hell in the earth, he takes notes of each one of our training, competitions, advancements and injuries.

“Yes, I’m feeling great, stronger each day.” Marie Anne smiles and claps her hands.

“Let’s see.” 

We walked to the back of the center where Anton arranged all the details to make it look closer as if I were in competition; as I walked down the corridors I felt eyes on me, whispers of curiosity of who were them and why I looked so scared.

I wore my classic black cap, with red lines at the side, and a small little fish at the back, clearly these caps Mia customized are for me. 

“Take your time Y/N, remember it’s not a competition, just give us a good look for future decisions.” Marie Anne said, I know she tried to calm me but that wasn’t the words I expected. 

I did some resistance exercises, shoulder strengthening; tests of coordination, flexibility and before the shooting tests I whisper at my bow and arrows before starting to get in anchor position. <Please, be nice to me.>

I draw the bow as I aim at the target looking for the perfect adjustment, not before I see the ground and smile, I can see the small lion on my chest. The arrow hits the red zone multiple times, in the final test of shooting just 2 times I reach the yellow zone, not good at all.

We kept talking for hours, Will barely said more than 3 sentences together, they explained their reasons to us and we to them, after 4 hours of intense thorough examination, they left as they came with a lot of noise surrounding them.

With shaking hands I dial the first name that comes to my mind. “Hey, am, could you help me with something?”

#fic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #max verstappen imagine

[caruliaa]

losing something you once had feels so much worse iv learned then realising youll never get something you never had

#this isnt true im just not in the middle of the second one anymore but its just. such a new sudden pain #what do you do when you lose a close connection with someone that used to tell you you made every day of their life better #and that theyd do anything to keep you in their life just a few months ago? #how you deal with the pain of the person youd go to to laugh with and cry to being gone? #i dont know. i dont other than to just. try to make sure im still here tomorrow and do the same the day after #its jsut so sudden. three years gone in less than a week i cant bear it. and i can still talk to them and i want it that way #and like. just just just i hope so deeply that one day we will be able to rebuild a relationship again #but thats dependant on them not on me. and i know if that day does come its at the several least months away #its not even their fault i know what theyre going through has to be awful too. i just dont know what it is and it feels so sudden for me #idk. what do you do when you lose the person you wanted to learn how to drive you could drive to meet them irl one day #before youve even started lessons? other than cry to olivia rodrigo ig but i was listening to olivia rodrgo without crying on friday #can i go back to that please? can i go back to before this fell apart becuase it did so quickly and i dont know how #vent #flappy rambles

[kindnessoverperfection]

Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.

NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.

I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.

The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.

Because it's so hard to exist in this world.

My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:

Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)

Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.

Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.

Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.

Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.

Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s

I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.

So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".

Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)

Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.

If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.

NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD

Stigma in the DSM

Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)

"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."

(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)

#actuallynpd #signal boost #actuallyautistic #mental health awareness #narcissistic personality disorder #people also need to realize that mental health professionals aren't immune from bias #(it really shouldn't come as a shock that the mental health field has a longstanding pattern of misunderstanding and mistreating ppl who ar #mentally ill or otherwise ND) #the first therapist i brought up NPD to like. literally pulled out the DSM bc she could barely remember the criteria. then said that there' #no way I have it because I have low self-esteem lmaoooooo #anyway throwback to being at work and chatting with a co-worker. and the conversation turning to mental health. and him saying that #he tries to stay informed and be aware and supportive of mental health conditions & that he doesn't want to be ignorant or spread harmful #misinformation. and then i mentioned that i do a lot of research into mental health stuff and i listed a bunch of things. which included #several personality disorders. one of which was NPD. #and after listening to my whole ass list he zeroed in on the NPD and immediately started talking about how narcissists are abusive and #he knew someone who had NPD and how the person who had it had an addiction and died from the addiction in a horrible way and he #was glad he did #fun times #or when i decided to be vulnerable and talk abt my self-criticism/self-hatred bc i knew my friends also struggled w that and i wanted to #support them by sharing my own coping methods. and they both(separately!) started picking and prodding at my npd through the lens of stigma #bc i'd recently opened up to them abt having it. they recognized self-hatred as a symptom and still jumped on me for it. despite me #trying to share hurt vulnerable parts of myself to help them and connect with them. #again..... fun times

[sooniebby]

Man… I’ve been thinking again.. it’s horny thoughts again.. it’s been about a magic dildo—it’s weird but lemme explain!!! Bottom male reader! Enjoy~

A smut fic were reader moves in with some random dude in an apartment. They have a regular roommate relationship for the most part..

Until when you find a dildo stashed in a box in the laundry room. It’s never been there before… Hm, it can’t belong to your roommate.. you’ve heard his.. night stands.. he’s not the one screaming

And you might’ve.. accidentally seen him fucking one of his friends before…

Yeah, he wouldn’t use this dildo.. but you could be wrong. Reader noticed though that the dildo couldn’t have been used ever since there was still plastic around it.

It even had a tag. Ah, this was store bought? A gag gift..? Your roommates birthday was five days ago. Well, if your roommate wasn’t going to use it, might as well… use it yourself?

A bit weird but you’re curious. The dildo is thick.. very thick and a bit long. Curiosity just got the best of you. So one night when you knew your roommate wasn’t home and decided to use the dildo.

It takes a few tries but you’re able to get the dildo inside your ass. It’s a nice stretch, pretty good actually. It’s long enough to easily graze over your prostate. Fuck, if your roommate didn’t want this dildo you’re going to keep for yourself.

You spend the next few minutes just fucking yourself. Moans load and unabashedly with the house being empty (besides your roommates cat)

You couldn’t help your thoughts slowly drift off onto your roommate.. that one time you saw just a glimspe of his cock fucking another man’s ass. His slim but toned frame, long fingers, his bangs that stuck to his forehead while he sweats .

His name just kept rolling off your tongue by now. Your hand holding the dildo that blessed your prostate and insides going faster. You began to lightly thrust back into it—just wishing it was a real cock. It was so hard to control the speed while you continued to lose yourself

But it seemed you weren’t even controlling it anymore. The dildo was just going by itself, but not like a vibrator. It was actually thrusting inside you, reaching your prostate easily. It felt like a real cock.. like someone was actually fucking you right now.

You cried out at the new sudden harsh thrusting but you were way too close to your release to even care that this dildo had a mind of its own.

You came with a shout, soaking the bed sheets beneath you as you sighed in relief. Fuck, you were keeping this dildo. But.. it was still moving?!

Before you could even scream out in horror at whatever the fuck this dildo actually was, your bedroom door slammed open.. and there was your roommate.. looking.. less human than before..?

“You finally found it? What took you so fucking long?”

Apparently your roommate was an incubus.. and the dildo was magically connected to his own dick.. huh, that’s why it moved like a real cock.

Well, you certainly didn’t get any sleep for that night.. or the later nights after that :)

Went off the deep end lol, I do so well with these types of stories.. kinda wanna do more for incubus roommate tho.. it’s interesting~

Tag list: @kiiyoooo @nakedtoasterr @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @iwishtobeacrow

#bottom male reader #x male reader #smut prompts #smut ideas #mlm nsft #mlm ns/fw #oc x reader #uke male reader #smut drabble

[krossan]

A Brief AU Explanation

I noticed that there are a lot of new followers that do know Danny Phantom, and others that the know very little. I am also aware that I haven't fully explained - maybe NOT in too much detail - the "story" and plots of my AU. You only have the ideas that I've been telling of this story through illustrations.

This AU is all about reconnecting with one self, with Jazz and Dan as the main two of this particular game.

Jazz remains as the same character that is portrayed through the OG show. She has always been the psychology enthusiast of the group, the one that cares for others and help with whatever she can. For her, others come first. First being her family.

On the other hand, we have Dan, an alternate entity of Danny’s ghost half and Vlad’s. A new form of entity that lost his humanity. For him to show any form of emotion is null.

Jazz involvement in this has to do with her putting everyone else first and then herself, and being keen to the study of the human-psyche, and now ghost-psyche, she secretly partakes to the role of Dan’s therapist. This was kept in secret from the rest of her friends and Danny until she can gain more control over Dan.

This, of course, prove to be a VERY difficult task. With her having to hide her constant fears when facing that “particular someone”: he could go on a rampage, have uncontrollable outbursts, cause havoc, and that he could turn against her any day/time without any remorse. She knows this, but she also knows that deep down, her little brother is still there. She’s looking to rekindle that part of him again. Of course, never knowing at what extent this could go.

And this, apparently started to bear fruit, although at a slow pace. As Jazz stood closer and closer to him, she understood that he stayed alone his entire life, and after losing everyone he cared, his violent actions were his significance of showing the world "hurting". The hurt he have been caring so many years. Now he has that second chance. To “live” a new life and Jazz wants to help him out.

With this new information, each time Jazz got close to him, Dan, instead of seeing her as an obnoxious-human-parasite, he slowly starts bonding with her. His interest increasing each day he is with her and grows more comfortable being around her (something Dan originally despised).

***

Part of this AU, enrolls on a particular context that the ghost of a halfa is sentient. The original show as proven this*. When Danny’s ghost has been separated, his ghost has a mind of his own, but when staying together, human-ghost, the consciousness of the halfa acts as one. *Episodes in question: What You Want, Identity Crisis, The Ultimate Enemy

This part that the ghost plays on the known halfas is a mayor plot point from this AU. Let me explain my concept briefly:

This roll that the ghost is part of the halfa is the one that caries the power of the wielder (human). The human can transform into the ghost and vice versa. The ghost powers remain within the ghost half. The human half acts as a vessel/host to the ghost half.

All living things have the instinct of survival. And on this case, the ghosts would do ANYTHING to keep their host safe as they are the means of a linked connection human-ghost. Not unlike the rest of non-halfa- ghosts that their link/host relies on the Ghost Zone -since they no longer have a corporeal body, the vessel for their survival is ectoplasmic energy, the one that emanates from the GZ.

***

Since Dan is no longer connected to a human, he became a full-ghost. An entity that merged from two ghost halfas. He can sustain himself alone, but strangely enough, he building a bond with Jazz, it rekindled what Jazz intended, but in an unusual way. Jazz intention was to try and reconnect Dan with his long-lost humanity. Even if he didn’t have a human half, both his ghosts may have some little information stored deep within of what that used to feel like. And even though that started to give results, the ghost also retained that of his original purpose: Protect the host.

And as the bond Dan and Jazz grew more and more, unknown to them, it caused a physical manifestation: a white streak formed in Jazz’s hair. And even if this came up as a surprise to Jazz, she later discovered that this manifestation was much more than just physical.

Dan rekindled his humanity but he, unknowingly, intertwined Jasmine’s humanity to his. Her humanity is part of him. Jasmine’s emotions have an impact on him. Whatever she feels, he can sense it, let them be good or bad ones.

They both are this new form of halfa, both human and ghost are separate life forms, but from the ghost side -Dan’s perspective- Jazz is acting as his human half. His host. That’s is why his instincts respond to protect her at all costs.

No. This new form of a halfa representation doesn't mean Jazz has ghost powers. The one with that power is Dan. This bond is more of a psychic link.

 (i.e. In European folklore, you “could” say Dan is Jasmine’s "familiar", although Jazz is not considered to be a witch, but imagine the possibilities of this small plot causing people or ghosts to think Jazz is a witch… idk… random ideas)

This is why Dan is more sympathetic towards Jazz and why their bond is very important.

______________

It's worth pointing out that I don't have a specific name for this AU, like many people do when they create these stories. And NO. Please refrain from saying this is a romantic relationship. It is a sibling/platonic relationship.

#danny phantom #au #jasmine fenton #jazz fenton #dark danny #dan phantom

[naughtyneganjdm]

Man for Hire

Summary: Eager to lose your virginity, you hire Negan who is a male escort to help you with your problem.

Characters: Negan & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55642924

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Little To No Plot, Daddy Kink, Unprotected P in V, Oral, No Use of Y/N, etc.

Notes: This is the first thing I've been able to write in a long time because school and work have been taking up most of time. This is really just a filthy one shot. I almost considered making this a short story for a while, but then decided to go with a one shot because...why not? (gif credit: @jdmorganz)

What the fuck were you doing here? That was really the question. The silence was eating away at you. Your heart was hammering inside of your chest and you were nervous. You’d never done something like this before. And you were starting to second guess your decision in making such a bold move.

Looking to the time, you felt the lump in your throat growing and your nerves heightened once you saw how close to the time you were waiting for actually was. This was so outside of your comfort zone. Spending money on something like this just didn’t seem logical in the end. Here you were sitting in the middle of an expensive suite at a very nice hotel in the middle of the city. The sights were beautiful and you were enjoying yourself, but the reason you were here is what had you so nervous.

Truth was? You were meeting someone. Well, kind of. You were paying someone to meet you here. Which was complicated in itself. If people were to find out that you were doing this, it would be hard to explain. At the end of the day, it was something that your best friend had convinced you would be good for you. You were in your early twenties and you were still a virgin. It wasn’t something that you originally felt bad about, but it always made things complicated when you went to date someone. There was always that stigma there of being a virgin. And you were never really comfortable enough to tell someone you were dating that you were one. There was also no one you ever felt comfortable enough with to actually have them take it. Sure, you’d fooled around with a few people, but you never actually followed through with all of it. You were just always so busy working and going to school that you never felt the need for sex. Now that you were older, well, it felt awkward being the only virgin that you knew. It was an embarrassing thing, so the only person who really knew at the time was your best friend. Who convinced you it would be for the best if you hired a professional to help you out with your ‘problem’. That way there was no judgement, it would be done by someone who should know what they were doing and you could hand pick who you wanted it to be. You wouldn’t have to worry about the dating process, you could just have sex and that would be that.

It's just the closer you got to everything, the more pathetic you felt. Your friend had found a couple of sites for you that you looked at together. Then you found one that you felt comfortable with and connected with the woman in charge. The woman was very personable, but straight to business. She sent you a list of men that would be available for you. She had asked you for some details and you were honest with her as to why you were doing this. There was no reason not to be.

After taking some time to look through your choices, you came to a profile that you ended up being immediately enchanted with. Negan. There were a lot of younger, muscular men that they were trying to sell, but you had always been attracted to men older than you. But from the first photo you were immediately drawn to the chiseled jawline of the man sitting on a motorcycle. He was wearing a leather jacket that was opened to reveal a gray Henley that laid underneath. A pair of worn-down leather jeans and black sunglasses. From the confident smile to his salt and pepper colored beard you were hooked instantly. Every photo you saw only drew you further in. In other photos his incredible dimples and gorgeous hazel eyes made you more confident that this would be your choice. Even the tattoos that covered his body made him more attractive to you. This was a man that would have caught your attention immediately if you saw him on the street. To say you were attracted to him would be an understatement.

After looking through the rest of the profiles that you were sent, you returned back to the woman that was in charge with the name that you wanted. At first, she tried to convince you to go with someone else. Even though she admitted Negan was one of their most popular escorts, she tried to give you other suggestions of who she thought would be better for your certain situation. A lot of them were the younger ‘cuter’ boys, but cute wasn’t exactly what you wanted. Once she realized that she wouldn’t be able to convince you otherwise, she agreed and set up this meeting. Negan was more expensive and the prices varied by the amount of time you wanted. Two hours, four hours or the overnight rate. You really thought two hours would be plenty enough, but your friend convinced you to get the whole night. You didn’t know why. You were just going to have sex with this guy and be over with it. Having him there with you afterwards would only make things awkward. You couldn’t change your mind now though. You already paid.

A knock on the door to your hotel room pulled you from your thoughts. It jumpstarted your heart in your chest and you felt incredibly nervous now. Standing up from where you were seated, you adjusted the material of the tight fitting black dress that you were wearing. Making your way over to the door, you nervously outstretched your hand to turn the doorknob and felt the breath leave your lungs when you pulled it open. Leaning against the doorframe stood the man from the profile, his hazel eyes looking over you curiously. A charming smirk tugged at his lips while he gazed over you. What he was wearing actually surprised you. It was a bit different from the photos in his profile, but you didn’t hate it. He was well groomed, his body donned in a very expensive looking black suit that was only buttoned in the middle drawing your eyes to the white button down that was underneath. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone revealing the thick curls of hair over the center of his naked chest.  

You were so distracted taking all of him in, that you missed when he said your name. Speaking louder, the tone of his deep, raspy voice sent chills down your spine. In his right hand, he had a single red rose and outstretched his hand to you when he finally got your eyes to lock with his.

“Can I come in?” he questioned, his nose wrinkling in amusement when he realized you must have been gawking at him. God, you must have looked like a fool just standing there in the doorway staring. Pushing the door open, you allowed him into the suite and accepted the rose when he stepped before you.

“Thank you. This is very sweet,” you commented on the gesture knowing that you were expecting a much different scenario than this one. Closing the door behind you, you noticed that he was standing rather close to you and it made a breath catch in your throat. Fuck. That’s when you noticed the smell of his cologne. It smelled amazing and only made him even more attractive. How was that even possible? Stepping forward, his hazel eyes stared down at you and it made you feel incredibly hot with how close he was.

Lowering down, the warmth of his breath lingered over your lips before he pressed a kiss over the side of your face. It drew your eyes to close, your lips parting when the kiss lingered and when they opened again, you could see him pulling back with a big smile over his face. The dimples were even sexier in person. Suddenly, you weren’t regretting your decision so much.

“You look gorgeous,” he started off, immediately complimenting you nodding toward the dress that you were wearing. “That dress looks really nice on you.”

“And look at you,” you waved your hand about pointing toward what he was wearing. “You look really sharp. I wasn’t expecting this whole getup with you showing up today.”

“Oh? This old thing,” Negan smirked, unhooking the button of the suit jacket before pushing his hands into his pockets and shrugging his shoulders. “Let’s just say the woman in charge thought it would be a nice touch considering everything.”

“Oh, so you know?” you paused realizing that of course he knew that you were a virgin. He would have to know since that’s why you were doing this whole thing to begin with. “You probably think I’m a loser.”

“Why would I think that?” his eyebrows furrowed, a muscle in his jaw flexing when he tipped his head to the side. “Every person’s situation is different. Who the fuck am I to judge? That’s not my job to judge.”

“And what is your job exactly?” you spoke quietly and he snickered. God that was stupid. “I mean, I know you’re an escort. I just, should I call you Negan? I don’t even know if that is your real name. It’s probably not, right?”

“No, that’s my real name,” he admitted with a bob of his head, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip in a confident sweep. “I probably should use a fake name considering the job, but I like being authentically me. And to answer your question, my job is different for everyone. It’s my job to find out what someone needs so I can give it to them.”  

“Smooth,” you outstretched your hand to his which he accepted and followed you over to the couch. First, he helped you sit before taking a seat next to you. A chill flooded through your veins. You understood why Negan was one of their most popular escorts. He was in here a few minutes and you were already ready to jump him. Setting the rose down on the coffee table before you, you turned toward him and felt bold in the moment. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do here Negan. I’ve never done something like this before. Obviously.”

“What do you want to do? You have me for the whole night,” he reminded you, outstretching his hand to push a piece of hair out of your face. Sweeping his thumb in over your jawline had you leaning into the warmth of him with your eyes fluttering to a close. “Did you want to go out for a night out on the town? Do you just want to hang out? Or…we can just jump right into things.”

“You mean sex?” you blurt out probably too fast which had him smirking and bobbing his head.

“That is what I mean, yes,” Negan’s deep voice rumbled with him sliding in closer to you. His arm hooked around the back of you with the warmth of his breath hovering over your bare shoulder. Suddenly the smell of his cologne filtered through your lungs. Desire overtook you and you had to keep yourself from throwing yourself at him right then and there. A minty scent also fell from his lips from a gum that he undoubtedly had been chewing on before he had showed up. “It’s all up to you what you want. What your fantasy is.”

As he spoke, Negan’s head lowered closer to the crook of your neck. Nuzzling his nose in against your flesh had you sucking in a sharp breath of air which was followed by him depositing a faint kiss over your neck.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but do you think we can talk first?” you wondered standing up from the couch which seemed to surprise Negan a bit, but he nodded as you headed over toward the bottles of alcohol that were in the corner of the room. You should have just jumped him right then and there, but your nerves were getting the best of you. “Do you want some bourbon?”

“I’m more of a gin guy,” he responded, standing up from the couch when you looked through the bottles and pulled something out that you thought he would like. “Is everything okay?”

“You want me to be honest?” you spoke faintly while you poured both him and you a drink hoping that it would help settle your nerves. With a nod of his head, Negan smirked and stood by the window to look down at the city beneath you. The bright colors were reflecting on the walls and he seemed to be in awe of the lights. Stepping in beside him, you held out the drink you got for him which he accepted, with his fingers brushing up against yours. “I’m starting to regret doing this.”

“Am I not what you expected?” suddenly he seemed almost offended, clutching the glass tightly in his hands when he turned to look at you. “I told Michonne that I should have just warn what I usually do because…”

“No, you’re perfect,” you immediately interrupted him, placing your hand over the center of his chest to get him to focus on you. “God, you are fucking gorgeous. And that’s the thing. You are this beautiful man and I’m a virgin that you are going to have sex with. I’m probably going to be awful and…”

“Oh,” an amused chuckle fell from Negan’s lips when he took a sip of the drink, his free hand placing in over yours to give it a firm squeeze. Swallowing down the sip, he looked to you and shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about that. Please don’t. It’s not something to worry about. People who have sex all the time sometimes aren’t even that good. Plus, my job is to make everything perfect for you. Whether we have sex or not. Don’t let the expectations of sex distract you and make you nervous. I’m a very chill fucking guy. You’ll walk away with a good experience by the morning, I promise you that.”

“Cocky,” you smirked, throwing back your drink in hopes it would give you some liquid courage. “I like it.”

“I just know I’m good at my job,” Negan assured you with a wink, finishing off his drink and setting the glass down, taking yours as well. Urging you back to the couch, he sat you down and took your hands in his when he lowered beside you. “I get the feeling you’d like us to get more comfortable with one another, so we will just talk for a while if that’s what you want. Or we can go out.”

“We can talk,” you were impressed with the way he was attempting to calm you down with the rough pad of his thumbs sweeping over the back of your hands. “Michonne tells me that you are one of her top escorts.”

“I told you, I’m good at my job,” Negan winked, his dimples becoming more prominent when he smiled and it took your breath away.

“So you must be really good at sex?” you suggested and it made him smirk again. You probably sounded really stupid right now, but you were curious.

“That and I’m the best at making people feel good. Not everyone that wants to have an escort wants sex. They want to feel special. They want to feel like the center of the universe and I’m good at that. I excel at reading people,” he explained, curling his finger underneath your chin to get you to tip your head back to look at him. With his eyes hooked on yours, you felt exactly the way that he described. Like the center of the world. “Some people are just looking for companionship. And I’m able to give that to them.”

“Fuck,” you exhaled with how close he was to you. Personal space wasn’t something that existed with Negan, but he was right. He was good at his job. “You know, Michonne tried to persuade me to get someone else instead of you. I’m curious as to why.”

“Well, she’s not exactly my biggest fan. Her husband and I have never really been able to get along,” he expressed with a wicked smirk, shrugging his shoulders when he spoke. “When people look at me, they assume that I wouldn’t be a good choice to take someone’s virginity.”

“She wanted me to pick someone like Siddiq,” you explained and Negan scoffed at your response. It felt like he was getting closer to you if that was even possible. “Thing is, I don’t want boyishly cute men.”

“Of course you don’t and you made a good choice,” Negan hushed you, his eyes now focused on your lips which had you frozen in the moment. The rough pad of his thumb drew across your bottom lip and it had you leaning in closer to him. “You want a man to take care of you. Because older men know what’s best. They do it better. And I’ll take really good care of you.”

After the final word left his lips, Negan’s lips hovered in over yours drawing your eyelashes to flutter to a close. Claiming your lips in a faint kiss had you leaning in closer to him. Your body’s reaction to him was almost instinctive when you started kissing him back. The sensation of his fingertips sliding in over the small of your back was felt urging you in closer to him. Every caress of his lips ignited the fire inside of you more for him with the rough sensation of his short beard at your flesh.

Pulling away, Negan’s eyes were closed and he was smirking when his long eyelashes fluttered to an open, “You’re a special one. I can tell.”

“I’m sure you say that to all the people you see,” you commented with a half-smile, finding yourself wanting him to kiss you again with the way he was touching your face.

“We could work on your confidence though,” Negan hushed you, bringing you to him again so he could nip at your bottom lip. Giving it a gentle tug, he flicked the tip of his tongue out over the inside of your bottom lip making you purr. “You are a beautiful, charming, young woman. You could have given your virginity to anyone, and you picked me.”

Instead of responding, you leaned in to desperately bring your lips together again with Negan humming. When his lips parted, you brushed your tongue against his which had him sucking faintly at your tongue when you pulled back. The more you kissed, the more intense it seemed to get with his large palm sliding up over your side.

Hooking your fingers into his dark hair, you tugged firmly at it which had him growling out against your lips. With his tongue flicking out over yours, you found a sense of confidence in stroking your fingers over the center of his chest to tease at the thick curls of hair that covered it. Lifting your hands, you started to open the buttons in Negan’s shirt, eager to see more of him and he didn’t seem bothered by it at all. Instead, his lips just trailed off over your jawline, over the side of your neck and to your shoulder to push at the strap of your dress to get it down over your arm to kiss at the flesh that was there.

Tipping your head back, your eyes connected with his when you got the last button undone and pushed apart the material of his shirt. Palming up and over the center of his abdomen toward his chest, you were in awe of his slender form. His lips were parted, his breathing heavy while you learned the lines of his body. Tracing your fingertips over the detailed tattoo over his pectoral muscle, you didn’t know how you were going to get away with this whole thing considering you were already addicted to this man and you barely knew him. Pushing into his chest, you got him to slide back so you could crawl in over his lap. Looking up at you, you agreed that he was good at his job because he had the look of absolute want in his eyes with you over him.

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” Negan slurred, lifting up to hungrily kiss at the side of your neck, reaching for the other strap of your dress to tug at it. With a grunt, Negan tugged at the material getting it pulled down your body to about your navel which revealed your breasts to him with a bounce. It had him tipping back to look you over with his adoration in his eyes. A wicked smirk tugged at his handsome features when he tipped his head down to start peppering kisses in over your collar bone. Hooking your fingers into his hair, you tipped your head back with his wet kisses covering the swell of your breast. Surrounding your nipple with the warmth of his mouth had your head tipping back with a moan. Sounds of his wet kisses surrounded you, his hands squeezing firmly at your hips. There was no questioning that Negan was very dominant in the way that Negan touched and kissed you, but you liked it.

With a swirl of his tongue over your nipple, he nipped at the sensitive flesh before trailing his kisses over to your other breast where he pampered it just the same. Yanking firmly on his hair, you had him staring up at you with his dilated pupils which took your breath away. Stealing a forceful kiss from his lips had him moaning. You two were just jumping right in, but it felt right in the way that it was happening. Negan’s fingers had dropped to squeeze at the back of your thighs to caress the flesh that was there. Sliding further up, he cupped your bottom under the material of your dress and gave it a firm squeeze.

“You don’t kiss like a virgin,” Negan growled, smacking firmly over your bottom eliciting a gasp followed by a moan from you. Staring over your body, his eyes focused in over your breasts and he sucked at his bottom lip.

“How do virgins kiss?” you wondered, dragging your fingers across his wet bottom lip. A snicker fell from his lips before he took one of your fingertips into his mouth. Nibbling faintly at the tip, he followed by flicking his tongue out against it making you purr.

“For the most part? They are shy? Timid,” he slurred, lifting up enough to hover his lips just in over yours. “Inside of you is a dirty girl just waiting to break free from the restraints you put on her.”

“Maybe you can help her break free,” you whispered, caressing over his chiseled jawline and it had him leaning in closer to you. A growl fell from deep within him when you teased the tip of your tongue over his lips and he reached to pull you in closer to him so he could claim your lips again in a hungry kiss. The taste of him was addictive. The more you had of him, the more you wanted him. Your blood was pumping through your veins with your heartbeat hammering inside of your chest. A flush went to your face and a warmth was flooding to your core.

Confidence overtook you and gradually you ground yourself down over Negan. Dropping his head back against the couch, his hands slid down over your hips while you took your time rubbing up against him enjoying the friction that it caused between the two of you. Beneath the material of his pants, the firmness of his masculinity was growing harder and you could feel it pressed against your bottom. It felt good and by the sounds he was making, he approved.

“Good girl. I think we’re breaking down the walls pretty fucking quickly here,” Negan insisted, the vibration of his words against your flesh causing you to moan. Dragging your palms down over the center of his chest toward his lower abdomen had a sharp exhale falling from his throat. His eyes were still locked on yours when you dragged your fingers across the belt in his pants. Lifting his hips, Negan attempted to help you when you started to pull the belt out of the loops. Tugging at the material had a rumble of an amused sound escaping him. Dragging his thumb across your bottom lip sent chills throughout your veins. “Y’know what you want now darlin’, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” you replied with a smirk when you started working open the material of his pants. How this man looked at you took your breath away. Curling your fingers at the waistband of his pants, he lifted his hips up to help you get the material down his slender body. A surprised breath fell from your parted lips with the way his erection smacked up against his lower abdomen. Licking your lips, you stare lifted to his eyes. Arrogance flooded his features when a crack of a smile tugged at his lips. “And suddenly I see why Michonne suggested someone else for my first time.”

“Does that mean you don’t think you can take it?” he inquired, his right eyebrow arching in curiosity with you reaching down to trace your fingertips over the underside of the shaft. Just the mere touch had his cock twitching and he bit down on his bottom lip.

“I’ve never been one to back down from a big challenge,” you responded and with a bob of his head, Negan seemed proud of you. Teasing your fingertips from just under the head of his cock down toward the base had him licking his lips in a seductive sweep.

“Thatta girl,” Negan snickered with your fingers curling around his shaft, drawing his hips to bounce up toward your grasp. Sliding in further over his lap, you took your time caressing over his body appreciating the way his eyelids grew heavy with lust. Your thumb swept over the ridge of the tip of his cock and he growled out. “I promise you, you’re gonna love what he’s gonna do for you.”

“I’m not scared of him,” you assured him with a wink enjoying the amused sound that escape his lips before his deep, raspy moan followed. Kissing down over his jawline, you took your time pampering his body knowing that while this was technically meant to be about you, you wanted to cherish the perfect specimen of the man beneath you. Nipping faintly at the side of his neck had him hissing out while you pushed his shirt further apart to reveal his chest to you. Adjusting your positioning over him, you started to kiss down over his collarbone and over the center of his chest. Lifting your palms, you stroked your fingers through the dark curls of hair over his chest and swallowed down hard. “You are fucking gorgeous.”

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he clicked his tongue at the top of his mouth, humming out again when you leaned forward to kiss over the center of his chest. Your kisses tampered off over his nipple appreciating the moan you got when you circled your tongue around the flesh. Whimpering out, it was almost hard to focus when Negan’s palm flattened out between your thighs to caress over the warmth of your body. It had your hips arching in closer to him when you sucked faintly at Negan’s skin. “You are so fucking wet already.”

It surprised him when you pulled away from him and moved so that you were sitting beside him. Lowering your upper half, you pressed tiny kisses over his abdomen and toward the v line over his hips leaving his flesh with hot wet kisses. Purring out, you felt Negan’s fingers caressing over your shoulders and toward your neck with your kisses lowering down. Sinking his fingers into your hair had you mewling out. You liked how it felt like he was being possessive with you. Delicately wrapping your fingers around the thick base of Negan’s cock, you stroked over it a few times before pressing a faint kiss at the tip. It had him growling out and you loved the sound it drew from him. Dragging your tongue across the tip made you purr out when his fingers grasped tighter to your hair.

Flattening your tongue out over the tip collected the taste of him on your tongue. Focusing heavily on the teasing aspect of it all, you pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses over his lengthy erection causing his breathing to grow louder. By the time you finally took him between your parted lips, it drew the most intoxicating moan from him. With his girthy length, you were doing your best to pleasure him to the best of your ability, working to jerk him off at the same time while bobbing your head over his length. The strength of Negan’s hand at the back of your head also helped set a steady pace that you were comfortable with.

Once you seemed to have a handle on things, you felt Negan’s palm sliding down over your shoulders, over your back before extending out over your bottom to give it a firm squeeze. Another smack over your flesh had you moaning around his cock. It had him twitching beneath you. The wet sounded of your mouth filled the quiet hotel room. Pulling away with a wet sound, you stroked your hand over his body when you lifted your stare to see that he was watching you with awe.

“Lay back,” Negan instructed, getting up from the couch with his hard cock bobbing with the movement. Carefully pulling off his jacket, he set it on the back of the couch and eagerly slid out of his button-down shirt. Tossing it with the jacket, Negan took his time to shimmy out of his pants after managing to pull his boots off. Snapping his fingers, you obeyed his order when you carefully lowered yourself back against the couch. Your heart was hammering in your chest when Negan grabbed a tight hold of the material of your dress to get it down your body leaving you laying stretched out on the couch in just your black panties. Getting to his knees, he hooked his fingers loosely into your panties, urging you to lift your hips with the tug of them. “How did you know black was my favorite color?”

“Lucky I guess,” you whispered, a tingling sensation at your skin with the way that he was looking over you as he unhurriedly pulled the material from your body. Tossing the material aside, Negan brought your leg up depositing a gentle kiss over the inside of your ankle with his eyes locked on you. Gradually, his kisses raised further up your leg having you a breathless mess when he got to your knee.

“If you’re ever uncomfortable, just let me know,” he slurred, nipping faintly at your flesh before lowering down onto the couch getting himself comfortable between your thighs. Curling his arms around your thighs and under your hips, Negan pulled you in closer to him getting a gasp from you and it made him smile. “You have a very pretty pussy. It’s a shame you haven’t been letting someone pamper it like it deserves.”

Reaching up, the roughness of the pad of his thumbs traced a line over your sensitive folds and it had you dropping your head back, biting down on your bottom lip with a mewl. Down his fingers went over the lips, toward your entrance before circling back to go up and sweeping over your clitoris. It had you panting, his eyes watching you closely to see how you responded to things.

“Good girl,” Negan hummed, lifting his fingers up to suck faintly at the tips. “Daddy is gonna take real good care of you.”

Hearing him refer to himself as daddy sent a jolt straight to your core and you purred out, your hips arching up toward him with him releasing a sound of approval. Doing the same dance over your sensitive flesh, Negan started to pepper kisses over the inside of your thigh. Your breath was hitching in your throat and you wanted to tip your head back, but you couldn’t. You wanted to watch the beautiful man between your thighs that was there solely aiming to do nothing but please you.

Each kiss grew closer until the wet sounds of him kissing over your heated flesh was heard. Licking your lips, something that resembled a whine fell from them and he smiled against your flesh. Dragging out his tongue, he flattened it over the length of your folds dragging it from your entrance which had you tremoring upon contact up to your clitoris where his tongue circled before back again.

It was about learning your body and Negan was doing just that. Paying close attention to everything that made you react. With his lips surrounding your clitoris you found the cries that fell from you involuntary. Each sound you made seemed to fuel him only enhancing the sensation of what he was doing. And by the sounds he was making against your flesh? He seemed to be enjoying himself just as much, finding pleasure in the sounds he could draw from you.

Grunting out, he pushed into your thighs to lift your hips in closer to him. Dropping your fingers down, you hooked them into his dark hair when you felt his tongue circling your entrance before dipping inside of you with a strong sweep. Cooing out, you tugged firmly at his hair having him groan against your most sacred parts. A wet sound filled the air when Negan pulled back away from your body, licking at his wet lips.

Adjusting his body, he hooked his arm around one of your thighs while his free hand lifted to drag his fingers over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Sliding them down, Negan lifted his head when his middle finger circled over your entrance. Tipping your head back against the couch, you whimpered when he took his time pressing his long slender digit inside of you. A raspy moan fell from his throat when he felt the warmth of your body surround his finger and it made him smile.

“You okay?” he confirmed pressing a wet kiss at the inside of your thigh, leaving a tiny nip at your flesh when he pulled back. Nodding, you didn’t have much that you could say because you were so focused on the sensation. When he had the okay that you were comfortable enough, he started to drag his finger back before pressing forward into your body again. Biting down onto your bottom lip, you whimpered as Negan’s lips surrounded your clitoris sucking at the sensitive nub. Every part of you felt hot. He was taking his time with you, not trying to rush things and he was doing a hell of a job with it. Your body was already trembling and he knew what he was doing to you when he inserted another finger into you. One thing about Negan’s fingers? They were big and he knew just where to caress inside of you to have your writhing beneath him, your hips arching up toward the talented caress of his lips and tongue over your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasped, lifting your head to watch him while he pumped his fingers inside of you, hitting a certain spot that had your toes curling, your fingers clinging tighter to his hair and your cries growing louder. Loud, wet, slurping sounds were filling the air and an occasional moan from Negan would vibrate against your flesh. Your thighs tensed up, starting to twitch when you tried to hold back, but with what he was doing at feasting on your body had you moaning out his name. A pleased groan pressed against your flesh when the thrusting of his fingers grew stronger when he clearly got you to an orgasm. Your muscles tensed up, a rush flooding to your head leaving you absolutely breathless. “Oh my God.”

“And that’s just the start,” Negan snickered after pulling his mouth away from your body. When his fingers left you, a whimper followed. Seeing him using those same fingers to drag them across his bottom lip had your heart hammering harder inside of your chest. Sucking at his fingers, Negan groaned at the taste of you over them before reaching for you. Managing to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder had you gasping and clinging tightly to him. A firm smack was placed to your bottom and it made you moan. “Daddy’s got you darlin’. Don’t worry.”

Once Negan made it to the bedroom, he was careful in the way that he lowered you at the center of the bed. That’s when the room started to spin around you. Suddenly this was becoming all too real what was about to happen. Your eyes fell to Negan’s swollen cock and you felt your mouth go dry looking at it.

“I’ll be right back,” Negan held his finger up, going into the sitting area to grab something before returning with a condom and some lube. Getting onto his knees at the bottom of the bed had a breath catching in your throat when you pressed up onto your hands. Outstretching your hand, you palmed in over the center of his stomach, dragging your fingers down over his navel to tease through the dark curls of hair that were there that led to the base of his thick cock. Stroking his fingers over your shoulder, Negan hummed when you started kissing at the area right below his bellybutton. Grasping his shaft firmly, you took the tip back between your lips with your eyes staring up at him hoping to see his reaction while you pleasured him. The vein at the side of Negan’s neck was slightly bulging when he dropped his head back and moaned out. “Fuck.”

Allowing you to give him a blowjob for a few moments led to him curling his fingers into your hair to pull you back. A wet popping sound followed when your lips pulled from his cock and he stroked the saliva over his body.

Reaching for the condom, Negan urged you to wait. Still caressing over his hip, you wanted to make sure to still touch him when he went to open the condom.

“Do you use a condom with everyone?” you questioned noticing the smile that tugged at Negan’s lips when his thick eyebrows bounced up.

“Kind of the rules, so yeah,” Negan answered you, licking at his lips when you wrapped your fingers around his cock to stroke over it firmly. “Why? Do you want me to do it without a condom?”

“You’d do that?” you were almost intrigued when he smirked, his hips bouncing up toward your grasp.

“Well, you’re a virgin. I know I’m clean because I have to make sure of it,” Negan bobbed his head back and forth, sucking at his bottom lip when you dragged your tongue out over the length of his cock again. It had him moaning out, his long eyelashes fluttering to a close again. Truthfully? You didn’t care what he did. You just wanted him and you wanted him bad. “I can make an exception for you if you can keep a secret.”

“Keep a secret?” you mused, kissing at the underside of his cock having him humming out when his eyes came to a close. “Will your boss really get that upset with you for having unprotected sex with someone? You’d be willing to get in trouble for me?”

“Would Michonne get pissed at me? Probably. But you’re worth the risk,” Negan’s fingers curled around your throat, leading you back against the bed. A sharp exhale fell from your throat when he set the condom beside you on the bed and reached for the lube that he brought. Releasing your throat, he opened the bottle and poured a significant amount into his hand before stroking it over his cock slicking his girthy length with it.

“Is there much of a difference?” you whimpered when Negan very slowly crawled in over you, covering you with the weight of his body. The warmth of it radiating against your flesh.

“It’s more intimate,” Negan started peppering kisses over your lips, nipping at your bottom lip. “Some men like wearing condoms because it prolongs their orgasm, but I last long regardless.”

Lifting your head, you looked between the two of you to see that his cock was resting against your lower abdomen and it made you lick your lips. A sense of panic filled your veins in that moment, but Negan reached for your jaw to get you to rest your head back.

“Are you on the pill?” Negan confirmed and you nodded your head, feeling a rush of excitement with the smirk he gave you. Balancing himself on his left arm, Negan reached down between the two of you and you felt him dragging the swollen mushroom tip between your lips causing you to whimper. “It’s okay. Don’t get worried now. You’ve been such a good girl so far. Daddy is gonna take good care of you.”

Smacking sounds filled the air with Negan tapping his heavy cock against your sensitive clit getting you to arch up toward him. Hovering his lips in over yours, Negan adjusted himself before lining himself up with your entrance. Lowering over you, he reached for your wrists to pin them beside you on the bed. Squeezing firmly at them at first, Negan had you shaking beneath him when he slid his fingers to tangle his with yours. Pushing forward had the swollen tip entering you pushing past the ring of muscle that was there. It had Negan’s lips part, his jaw lowering and his eyelids growing heavy. Your cry followed with Negan dipping down just enough to press a faint kiss over your lips.

“Fuck,” Negan nipped at your lips when he pushed his hips forward just a bit more leaving you with a completely foreign sensation. It hurt at first, but you assumed that was normal since Negan from what you knew was bigger than most men were. “Look at me.”

Your eyes connected with his when he filled you with just the first few inches. His fingers squeezed tightly to yours, your whimper falling from your lips. Allowing you to get used to just that, Negan started to pamper you with kisses, pulling his hips back slightly allowing the tip to pull from you before pushing it back in. It was a unique feeling, but with every motion, you found your hips raising to meet his movements.

“Tell me if you need to stop,” Negan growled, the warmth of his breath hovering over your lips, but you didn’t want it to stop. No, you wanted more of this. Lifting your hips up higher toward him, you gave him a nod letting him know you wanted him to give you more and it made him smile. Rolling his hips, Negan filled you completely leaving you to let out a moan. God, you felt so fucking full with him inside of you. And you liked it. It was uncomfortable, but you felt like in that moment you belonged to him and every part of you was his. “Fuck, you are so goddamn tight.”

“Your cock is so big,” you whined against his lips, lifting your head up to meet him in a desperate kiss that he was eager to reward you with. You wanted him to move, but you knew that he was giving you time to get used to him. To feel him and be close to him. A loud, throaty moan escaped his lips with his eyes squeezing shut and you purred out. “Please…”

“Move your body with mine,” Negan instructed, his hips rolling back before pushing forward again. Doing what he said, your hips eagerly met every one of his thrusts and you winced when each movement started to get harder. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No,” you shook your head. You knew the pain would subside because with each movement the pleasure started to grow. The friction from his groin rubbing up against your clit felt incredible and you rocked into every movement he made. Plunge after addictive deep plunge had you moaning out, whimpering out his name and enjoying that he was just as much verbal as you. Burying his nose against the side of your neck, Negan kissed over your flesh and the smacking of your skin together felt incredible. “Do you like that tight little pussy?”

“Fuck me,” Negan pulled back with a wicked smirk, his left hand pulling from your hand to slide up over the side of your neck to grab a firm hold of your jaw. “I think you just might be my favorite.”

“As long as I’m yours,” you exclaimed, dropping your head back with the incredible sensation that Negan thrusting inside of you was giving you. Once he found a certain spot, his thrusts were planned and meticulous.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Negan hissed, dropping his head to watch his cock already coated in your slick while he thrust into you time and time again. The tip of his cock was rubbing up against your g-spot in varying different speeds and it hand your toes digging into the back of his thigh muscles. Your cries turned to breathless pants, with you trying to lift your head to watch what he was doing, but he shook his head. “How do you feel?”

“So good,” you answered with a whine knowing that at this point it was true. Whatever Negan was doing, he was doing it right leaving you with a tingling sensation flooding your body. Desperately reaching up, with your free hand you brought Negan to you to kiss him with his tongue brushing up against yours and his fingers squeezing tighter where he was still holding your hand. By the sounds you were making, Negan must have picked up on the fact you were about to come because his thrusts grew more determined. With a wail, you pulled your hips up and away from Negan, which was followed by a proud, amused sound. Your eyes slammed shut, your hips shaking with Negan’s free hand dropping to caress over your sensitive bundle of nerves, enhancing your orgasm with his caress. “Fuck! Fuck…”

“Look at you,” Negan snickered nuzzling his nose against the side of your neck with your coos of pleasure surrounding him. “Your first time and you’re already soaking daddy’s cock. Kissing up over the side of your neck, Negan let you take a moment to gather yourself before hovering over you again. “Put your arms around my shoulders. Hold on tight.”

Nodding, you did as he instructed and gasped when he pulled you up and got into a kneeling position on the bed. Getting you to straddle his hips, Negan reached between the two of you and helped you lower down over his cock while you braced your feet on the bed with Negan’s hands bracing against your ass. Dropping your head back, you cried out at the way he filled you.

“You like the way that feels?” Negan slurred against your lips, starting to use his strength to help you bounce yourself over his cock. Your right arm stayed hooked around his shoulders to keep you up, while you balanced yourself back on the bed with your other hand to help your movements. “Fuck, your tight virgin pussy feels so fucking good around my big cock.”

“Yes,” you gasped out, following the way that Negan was instructing you to move your hips over his cock allowing you to take all of him again and again.  You probably sounded like a broken record with how many times you were saying it, but it felt so good at this point. Bracing your left hand now instead on Negan’s thigh, you angled your hips hoping to get as much of him as you could. The wet sounds along with the two of you breathing heavily together filled the hotel room. “Your cock feels so good inside of me. Oh my god.”

Every roll of your hips over his length grew harder with his moans matching yours, “That’s my girl. You’re doing so fucking good.”

Whimpering out his name as he kissed down over the side of your neck, you couldn’t help but cry out with his right hand squeezing over your bottom to bring you over him while his left hand caressed up and over the small of your back. Pressing his forehead to yours, Negan made sure to keep the both of you close. Once your moans started to become closer together, Negan worked harder to bounce you over his cock.

“Are you gonna come?” he whispered and you nodded quickly, dropping your head back in ecstasy with the way he continued to fill you. Pulling your hips up and away once you hit your next orgasm led you to a euphoric sensation flooding your body. “Fuck, you’re just loving this aren’t you?”

“So much,” you whined when Negan seemed to easily grasp a hold of your hips to flip you over onto your stomach. Lifting your hips up just enough, Negan lowered down behind you with his tongue lapping at your body. His rough grasp palmed at your bottom having you crying out at the sensation. Not only was Negan doing what you paid for, he was going above and beyond to bring you to as many orgasms as he could. Curling your fingers around the comforter, you dropped your head and enjoyed the slurping sounds that came from Negan.

“Lower down baby,” Negan bit at your bottom making you purr as you felt his hands helping you to lay flat against the bed. Crawling in over you, Negan hooked his arm around your waist to pull your hips up slightly before leading his body back into yours with a wet sound. It had you both moaning out in unison with him nipping at your jawline when his steady thrusts started back up again. “I’m so happy you saved this tight little pussy for me. It’s like you were made for me.”

“All for you,” you hummed, happily accepting his fingers hooking with yours with the sounds of his hips smacking up against your bottom filling the air. “It belongs to you.”

“Oh yeah?” Negan’s free hand curled around your jawline to put a firm pressure on it having you wincing out in pleasure. “Who does this tight little pussy belong to?”

“You,” you whined with his thrusts growing stronger from behind you. “It belongs to you.”

“My name,” Negan demanded, his lips claiming yours having you crying out against his lips.

“Negan. It belongs to Negan,” you gave him what he wanted to hear, nipping at his bottom lip when he released an amused rumble of a sound. “I’m all yours.”

Snickering against the side of your neck, Negan chuckled before quickening the pace of his cock thrusting inside of you. You couldn’t believe how quickly you became addicted to the sensation of him stretching you and filling you completely.

Your moans countered each other’s with the sound of the headboard smacking against the wall. You wondered if anyone would complain considering you knew that the two of you were not being quiet. At all. Cooing out, your hips tried to pull up and away from Negan’s feeling that same build up he had done before inside of you so many times, but his hips followed your movements doing his best to keep moving inside of you until you pulled away with a whine.

“Christ,” your body shook and Negan moaned against the side of your neck. Just his body weight over you felt good and you didn’t know how you weren’t going to want this constantly now that you’ve had it. “Negan.”

“Come here,” he instructed, nudging your hip and getting you onto your back again. Getting comfortable, Negan braced his weight and got you to hook your legs around his waist. Your bodies were pressed together with his fingers sweeping over your jawline and his hazel eyes locked on yours. “You are so fucking perfect.”

Gasping out as he entered you again, your fingers slid up the lengths of his back before sinking into his hair. Smiling had his dimples even more prominent than before when he took his time rolling his hips back before forward again. This time it was about closeness and the connection between the two of you. Gradually with each thrust, the strength grew harder and quicker. Desperate to have him near, you pulled his lips to yours demanding the attention you wanted. Winces started falling from Negan’s throat with his moans growing louder.

“I’m going to come,” he grunted against your lips, his thick eyebrows furrowing with his lips parting and his moans becoming even raspier. Arching your hips up toward his thrusts, you lifted your head just enough to meet his dominant and forceful kiss. Each thrust became rough, with your winces against his lips drawing him to growl out. Biting at your bottom lip, Negan’s moans grew closer together when you felt the throbbing of him inside of you followed by the first sign of the warmth of his release. The expression over his face as he continued the rolling of his hips over you only turned you on more when you pulled him closer to you kissing over the side of his neck. After a few final thrusts, Negan’s breathing grew loud and he nuzzled his nose against the side of your neck with you clinging tightly to him. Negan pumped you full of his cum, his cock still throbbing inside of you after he reached his orgasm. You were surprised how much you enjoyed the feeling of it. “Fuck.”

Stroking your fingers through his damp hair, you felt like the world was spinning around you. Your body ached in the most amazing of ways and you loved the sounds of Negan’s deep breaths against the side of your neck.

With a throaty groan, Negan pulled his hips back and away from you allowing his softening cock to pull from your body. Whining out, you hated the empty feeling it left you with, but you felt the warmth of his release spilling out of you and sliding down your thighs.

With a grunt, Negan got up from the bed and you felt your heart sinking. Throughout the whole thing, Negan made sure to make everything very intimate between the two of you, so when he stood up you almost assumed that he was already getting ready to leave. He had done what you had asked of him of course, so what more did he need to do?

Closing your eyes, your breathing started to calm down with your skin feeling like it was on fire. As the bed dipped, you found yourself surprised to feel the warmth of Negan beside you again. Opening your eyes, you felt him wiping at the mess he made over your thighs with a tissue and you reached up to stroke over his jawline.

“I thought you were leaving,” you declared while Negan finished cleaning you up. Tossing the tissue into the garbage, Negan crawled in over you again and traced over your features with his rough fingertips. The way he looked at you took your breath away and you stole another kiss from his lips.

“Nope,” he shook his head with a smirk, peppering playful kisses over your jawline then your shoulder and then to your breast. Nipping at your nipple had your back arching up toward him and he growled. His left hand caressed in over the side of your body and you hummed. “You did so good. How do you feel?”

“I feel good,” you answered with a hum as hand lifted and his thumb swept over your bottom lip. “I mean, I ache, but I feel really good.”

“Good,” he slurred with a happy smirk, pressing another kiss to your lips before rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. Resting your head over the center of his chest, you stroked your fingers over the damp hair that were over his lower abdomen. Pressing a kiss to your temple, Negan squeezed you in closer to him and it made you both smile. “Do you regret your decision?”

“Not one bit,” your answer was immediate, drawing what sounded like a snort from his lips and it made you lift your head from his chest to stare up at him. “The only thing I’m starting to regret is that this will be over soon.”

“Not that soon. You have me all night,” Negan reminded you with a wink, his raspy voice drawing you in to kiss him again. With an arrogant bob of his head, he gave you another one of his sexy smiles before squeezing over your bottom. “Which means I’m yours until morning.”

“Oh yeah,” your eyebrow arched in curiosity and he nodded his head.

“And lets not pretend that this is gonna be the last time,” Negan declared, his nose nuzzling in against yours when he claimed your lips in a kiss again. “We both know that after tonight, you belong to me. All of you belongs to me.”

----

Tags: @slutlanna976​ @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams  @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx  @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03​ @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan @peachihellcat

#Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan #Negan fanfiction #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #negan x reader #negan smut #Negan Smith #twd smut #negan x you #negan imagine

[neptunes-sol-angel]

Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most, then scroll down for its corresponding message about the pov of your spirit guides and their message to you

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Pile One

I feel like your relationship with your guides is like “hide and seek”. They have an old presence in your life. Even if you are just now beginning your spiritual journey or are just now having the urge to seek out more about them and who they are, it seems as if they have always been in your life, and already have a connection or have had close contact with you. Specifically when you were a kid. Perhaps you’ve had “imaginary friends”, repetitive encounters with the same person or entity in your dreams, or have parents who recall you being distracted and smiling a lot at what appears to be mundane things as a baby. I call this hide and seek, because it’s like a lot of your occultic knowledge or experience psychic gifts were things that you’ve already learned as a child, but were conditioned to move away from for whatever reason. Your stunted relationship with your guides could appear in interests that you also had to separate from, like studying mythology, an interest in plants but also marine animals, gaming, drawing comic book characters, collecting items for yourself but stopping because someone considered that as not intellectual or important, and even crafting things yourself, regardless of how good you were at it, but because it gave you peace and happiness. Your guides see you as their family, they protect you like they are your parents, because their love for you is like having a child. They love it when you’re being silly and they love to sneak in silly things for you, to let you know that they’re here and when something is going to be ok. Maybe you use dark humor frequently as a way to cope with something that you’re struggling with or when you think about the ways that you’ve been let down in the past. You joke that way because you feel that it’s the only way to have some control in a situation that you predetermined will go down hill and be the end of you. You could talk to yourself or talk about your life in a way that is self-loathing and impeded, but your guides work and send you messages meant to bring you back up whenever you’re losing your determination to keep going. They’ll joke with you, but not in a way that encourages you to lose hope or to fail in seeing the good in yourself. It’s more like instead of showing you to laugh at yourself, you laugh at your mistakes, or you laugh at how crazy other people can be when they displace their negative inner feelings onto other people to show that it has nothing to do with who you are, what you do, or what you look like. Money is strong in this pile. This could be a message saying that you won’t have to fear about money forever and that a financial breakthrough is going to happen for you and you’re going to be financially stable doing something that you love or are currently building to support your living situation. However, mainly, I’m getting that in your spirit guides’ eyes, they’ve watched you grow up feeling less than because you didn’t grow up with a certain luxury, maybe you grew up in poverty, felt insecure about the things that seemed so easily accessible to everyone but you, or don’t know what it’s like to have a loving parent, but your guides have always seen you as a rich person and it has nothing to do with material items. They see you as brilliant, you work so hard for what you have and you’ll see the results multiply in the future, even if you struggle to find the right words for yourself–You always know what to say to others about stuff that they struggle to see within their own lives.

Pile Two

Your strongest clair could be clairaudience. If not, then it feels like you guys are good with picking up things by what people or say, or you have a strong intuition for what isn’t visible or said, but you have a poor time going forward with your intuition. When you get “right”, you tend to go left, then regret what you find out because you didn’t listen to what was initially divinely given to you. Your guides are nature beings, you can connect with them through plants but also relics or shrines. I keep getting inanimate objects, so you could have a few deities that govern planets, like moon goddesses watching over you. I feel that the connection that you have with your guides is like Yue from Avatar: The Last Airbender. You mirror each other and embody dark feminine energy. They’re gentle, ancient, and wise. People think that all spirit guides are like that, but no. Guides have personalities of their own, and not all are good. They see you as loving, maybe too loving, meaning you love without boundaries which could cause you some pain and a lot of repressed anger. You may not like to be perceived or put on a pedestal, but they do, because they truly see what’s in your heart. You just need guidance. They accept you for your good and bad traits, but it doesn’t mean they don’t lead you into improvement and learning to take accountability. You can be sweet, but you can also be bitter. They feel hurt when they see that you’re hurting, but they don’t want you to hold on to bitterness because people that harmed you will see that again and it’s not your business as to when. I will say that this isn’t to mistake them as peace and turn the other cheek, because they are not. They are wrathful behind the scenes towards people who hurt you or even think about hurting you. They’re very protective over your life, but there are some things you have to do to look after yourself since you guys are from two different worlds. This pile feels extremely hazy. They say that you are so smart, beautiful, and talented, but you have trouble seeing this and it pains them. You have potent manifesting abilities that range from making things happen yourself with your skills to knowing how to conjure with spirituality. It’s like you can create and create, but that’s still not enough for you, even when you are likely to top the latest thing you achieved. You need to learn how to rest and also be okay with yourself. There’s this habit of working and studying a lot for credentials, but still feeling less confident, leading you to give your power away to people who are boastful. This is a problem if you are psychic and are trying to find your way in spiritual communities or communicating with other spiritual people. Stop falling for words that convince you that someone knows more occultic knowledge than you or about your own personal journey and intuition. This is also a message for people to stop shying away from making content or starting a business in the occult because you fear that other people are better than you when that isn’t true, and stay away from people who influence you to think like that because they are not your friends or someone to trust.

Pile Three

You guys could have a lot of ancestral type spirits in your team and are probably reincarnations of ancestors in your past bloodline. You guys are cycle breakers and reapers of work and good karma that’s been gained in the spiritual world, meaning lots of inheritances, especially if you have passed down closed spiritual practices. This pile reminds me of the 4h-10h axis in astrology, each house rules over many different things but what sticks out that relates to this reading is the fourth house dealing with ancestors and the 10th house dealing with your public reputation. A lot of celebrities are famous because they have strong ties with their ancestors who are well respected spirits. People in this pile are destined for blazing success and fame. This can reveal itself in different professions, that could be but are not limited to, writers, actors, singers, entrepreneurship or something related to public speaking. Even though I feel practitioners and believers of spirituality in this pile, especially since this is a tarot reading, there’s a lot of skepticism here. There’s not enough trust or belief and this could be upsetting to your guides, they’re able to see things beyond your present reality which could make them patient, you could even be an impatient person, but it seems like both of you need to allow time to do its thing. Your guides see what you’re capable of, and before you are finally able to see it if you don’t already, they don’t want you to become arrogant and feel like potential is enough to back you up. They believe in putting in the work. They also see that you’re traditional even though you don’t want to be. You guys could be raised around a religion where witchcraft is shunned upon, and speaking about ancestors is discouraged which could explain the impatience. This could also be interpreted as you seeing this success but frustration over how far away it feels or how impossible it could be, and it’s like they see you as being dramatic or frantic about things that are going to inevitably work out. There was a message that I channeled for pile one and didn’t mention but I’m receiving it strongly here instead. It’s like things could be taking their time because you have to learn self-control. They don’t want you to let money and social climbing get into your head and make you forget where you come from, humility, and being in community with others. The fame and success isn’t given for you to hoard, but so that you can continue spreading the blessings to others, especially in your family.

#pick a card reading #pick a card #divination #intuitive #psychic #tarot #spirituality #pac #tarotblr #pick a pile

[charlottesuzee]

Telling Him "Wake Up, My Boyfriend's Here !" (One Piece Men x GN!Black Reader)

Monkey D Luffy

- "Ay, Luffy, wake up, you gotta go !"

- "Wha... Why ?"

- "You gotta leave the room, my boyfriend's here ! He'll kill you if he sees you !"

- "Let him come, I'll kick his ass !"

- And he really gets up, ready to fight someone before he finally connects the dots

- "Wait a minute... I'm your boyfriend ! .... I am your boyfriend... right ?"

Roronoa Zoro

- It takes a minute to wake him up

- "Zoro,I'm serious, wake up, you gotta go."

- "What the fuck are you talking about ?"

- "My boyfriend is coming, he'll kick your ass if he catches another man in our bed, you have to go !"

- Will deadass, get up, half asleep and start putting his clothes on before he finally puts the pieces together.

- "Oh, fuck you, you ruined my nap !"

Blackleg Sanji

- "Sanji, you have to leave !"

- "Huh, why, what's wrong ?!?"

- Because you woke him up with such urgency, he shoots up, looking for danger

- "My boyfriend will literally kill me if he sees another man in our bed, you have to go !"

- "I'll be damned if a man lays his hands on you let me-!" He then pauses. "Sweetness... I'm your boyfriend." He then starts sobbing "I am your boyfriend, right ?!? You haven't been using me to two time with someone else right ?!?"

- You'll have to comfort him as punishment for your mean prank.

Charlotte Katakuri

- Will deadass sit up from his slumber and look at you before you do it

- "Don't even think about it. Go back to bed." He says before going back to sleep, causing you to pout, because you didn't even get to say anything yet.

- It's hard to pull pranks on a boyfriend that can see into the future, even in his sleep.

Eustass Kid

- "Kid, wake up, my boyfriends is here, you have to go !"

- "Let him come, I'll kill him" He doesn't even process what you said, he just yawns, rolls over and goes back to sleep as if he didn't even hear anything. It's hard to get Kid to wake up from a slumber.

Killer

- "Kill, wake up !"

- "Huh ? Wass wrong ?" His speech is a little slurred when waking up

- "My boyfriend is coming, you have to leave !"

- Will just stare at you for the longest amount of time, there's a flaw in your sentence but his sleepy brain can't process it fast enough to figure it out, until he does.

"You fuckin play too much, do that shit again and I'm kicking you out of our bed." And will roll back over and go back to sleep without another word.

- He's still mad about it after he wakes up and gives you the silent treatment for about an hour.

Law

- "Law, wake up !"

- "You better have a good reason for waking me up or I swear to God-"

- "This is a good reason, my boyfriend is coming down the hall, you have to go before he catches us !"

- Law's still pretty sharp, even when he's half asleep, so he immediately catches the flaw in your sentence. He will give you the "bitch really ?" look, before using his devil fruit to transport you out of the bed and outside of your room, before locking the door on you.

- He's that petty about losing what little sleep he gets.

- "Law, let me in ! I'm sorry ! I won't do it again !"

- "I'll open the door when I wake up from my nap ! That'll teach you not to be a dumbass !" And will use his devil fruit to created a barrier around himself to drown out your knocking and yelling, going back to sleep, hugging your pillow close to him.

#one piece #one piece x reader #reader insert #one piece x black!reader #black reader #gender neautral reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #katakuri x reader #eustass kid x reader #killer x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #blackleg sanji #charlotte katakuri #eustass kid #killer one piece #trafalgar law

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 YOU AND ME (ALWAYS FOREVER)!

FEATURING: dark era!dazai osamu

SUMMARY: more than friends, not quite lovers. that's been your relationship with dazai osamu for as long as you can remember. you didn't want to push him, and you gave him plenty of chances, but there's only so long you can wait for someone. you thought you would be better off moving on—you were wrong, of course. (wordcount: 4.8k; sfw; angst (???) but with a happy ending)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: dark era dazai </3 my heart, i got a sudden urge to write for him and i wanted it to be fluff but then i got this idea and just had to go with it (warnings: fem!reader, smoking & drinking, suicide attempt mentions)

In your defense, you were never dating Dazai Osamu.

Not for a lack of trying on your part, of course. You’ve made your interest in him clear since you met him at sixteen during the Dragon’s Head Conflict, when Mori Ougai pulled you back from where you were stationed in Kyoto dealing with his associates to help with the declining situation in Yokohama. And you’d thought he felt similarly to you. You really did. The two of you had become inseparable within weeks of knowing each other, such a swift and strong connection that it almost felt unreal. You’d heard rumors of him, of course, before coming back to Yokohama—the infamous Demon Prodigy that Mori had brought in and groomed into becoming his heir, ruthless and cold and so terrifyingly intelligent that he had the entire upper echelon of the Port Mafia on edge. 

By the time you got back to Yokohama, he’d already had a heavy reputation following him, dark shadows clinging to him like a second skin. Demon Prodigy. Black Wraith. So many monikers attached to him, but he never really felt like the monster that everyone claimed him to be.

He and Nakahara Chuuya had been the one sent to retrieve you from Yokohama Station, an area very close to the heart of the gang conflict, and even from the first meeting, he’d always been… well, you’re not going to say normal because he’s not normal. He’s always had an unnerving air about him, eyes a bit too cold and dark, smile a bit too teethy, but he’s always come across as just another kid your age. Maybe a bit lonelier than most, which could be off-putting to other people, but it never bothered you. And yes, you’ve seen the way other members of the Mafia treat him—they’re scared of him, go to extreme lengths so as to not cross paths with him, but you’ve never seen him in the same light they do.

Well, not until recently, at least. 

Again. In your defense, you were never dating him. 

But you’d known he cared about you as more than a friend. And you’d cared about him as more than a friend too. And you waited. You waited almost two years for him to say something. You didn’t want to do it yourself, you know Dazai is flighty and he’s not used to emotions, and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but god, there’s only so much waiting you can take before you start to give up.

When the two year mark hit, you’d become convinced that Dazai was never going to act on his feelings for you; instead, he’d prefer to wait it out until they passed, and if they never did, he’d just pretend they didn’t exist at all. You can’t really blame him, the Mafia is not a place conducive for relationships, it’s only a matter of time before your luck runs out and one of you end up dead by a bullet through the head or captured by the enemy, and the thought of getting attached to someone only to lose them is enough to scare anyone away. 

But you don’t want to live your life in fear, no matter how short it may be, and you also don’t want to live it alone. So when an opportunity arose at a cafe near the main headquarters, where you met a civilian around your age who showed immediate interest in you, you jumped on it. And it’d caught a lot of people off guard—Kouyou was surprised, Chuuya was baffled and questioning what a civilian could possibly have that interested you, even Mori gave you a double take and an odd look the first time he overheard Elise interrogating you about your new boyfriend.

But no one took it as poorly as Dazai.

Your throat feels tight as you remember the hurt expression that crossed over his face when you told him. It was so brief and so foreign of an expression to see on his face that you’d thought you’d imagined it, he was quick to school his expression back into a cold and closed-off one (one that he’d never directed toward you before that moment), but there was no mistaking the way the corner of his lip twitched and the way he suddenly couldn’t meet your eyes. 

How nice, he’d told you, voice frighteningly icy, acidic, even, before he made a half-assed excuse about a mission that you knew he wasn’t assigned to. And it was so unlike him to offer himself up to handle missions, usually Mori has to force him with threats of giving Chuuya his executive position for him to do anything that makes him extend the barest amount of effort . But he did, and he handled it, very bloodily and uncharacteristically inefficient, as if he was releasing all of his pent up rage onto the unfortunate souls who happened to stumble into Port Mafia territory.

You were never, at any point, dating Dazai Osamu. 

You think you’ve told yourself it hundreds of times over the past three months, throwing yourself into your work and enjoying a relationship with a boy who clearly was invested in you and cares about you in a way that Dazai Osamu would never allow himself to admit. You also think that Dazai Osamu has no right being as bitter and angry as he is—you gave him two years to come to terms with his feelings and make a move, you’ve made your own subtle hints that he promptly ignored. If he wanted to be with you, he blew his chance a hundredfold, and he can go screw off if he thinks he can be upset about it only after you’d found someone else. 

Which is what he did, pretty much, and it was a lot harder than you expected—going from talking to him every waking second of every day, seeking him out whenever you have free time and vice versa, to only seeing him during the joint meetings between the executives and sub executives, where even then, he wouldn’t even spare you a glance. It was hard, and deep down, you don’t think being able to experience an actual relationship was worth losing your best friend, but the damage had already been done by that point, so you could only lie in the bed you made. 

And you did enjoy the relationship. The boy you’d met was sweet. He was good. He was impressively smart—a government and law major at one of the most prestigious universities in this part of the country—and humble to a fault. 

But he wasn’t Dazai. 

You knew in your heart that you didn’t want sweet or good, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise. You didn’t want the type of smart that he was, top of his class and on track for law school, seeking out a job as a public defender in Tokyo. You wanted the type of smart Dazai was, wicked and devious, putting together vicious and efficient strategies to take down enemies of the Mafia, on track for taking over the position as boss in the future. You wanted him for all of his twisted moralities and questionable thoughts.

And it was unfair to you, and it was unfair to Dazai, and most importantly it was unfair to the boy you kept leading on, that you’ve refused to acknowledge this for as long as you have just for the chance of experiencing a real relationship. 

Which is why you stand here now, outside the infamous Bar Lupin that you know Dazai has been drinking himself into oblivion at everyday for the past three months, notably single and possibly about to meet your end at the hands of a drunken and scorned Mafia executive. 

You think you must look like a fool right now. You’ve been standing right outside the door in the rain for fifteen minutes debating on whether or not you should actually go in. You’re nervous, and that makes you sad because you’ve never been nervous to talk to Dazai before, and you’re not nervous because you’re scared of him, you’re nervous because you don’t think you have the balls to actually confront him, knowing that you’d genuinely hurt the boy that everyone claimed didn’t have the emotions to be hurt. He let you in when he doesn’t let anyone in, and you chose to be careless and you chose to give up, and you hurt him. 

And you remind yourself again: you were not dating Dazai Osamu. You remind yourself that you gave him chances, he had opportunities, and he chose not to take them. You remind yourself that he’s just as at fault as you are for the falling out, but you can’t help but also remind yourself that he was the one that came out the most hurt by the situation. Yes, him cutting himself off from you was upsetting, but you didn’t have to watch him go around happy in a relationship with someone else. He did. 

With that thought in mind, you push the door open to the bar. A soft bell rings above you and instantly, three heads swivel in your direction: the bartender, and two men that you recognize as Sakaguchi Ango, one of the Port Mafia’s special intelligence agents, and Oda Sakunosuke, who you only know through Dazai’s high praise of the man from when the two of you were still on speaking terms. The only person in the room who matters to you doesn’t even bother to look to see who entered the bar, one hand circling the glass of whiskey in front of him while a cigarette dangles from the other. You watch as he lifts it to his lips to take a long drag, head falling tilting back to look up at the ceiling as he exhales a cloud of smoke, seemingly unbothered by your presence.

Already, you feel as if you’ve made a mistake, but you force yourself to continue.

The bartender nods his head in respect to you, although you can’t help but notice he flashes a wary look to Dazai. You wonder, pitifully, how much he’s said about you in this place. Sakaguchi and Oda share a look with one another. Both of them speak a low murmur of your name, inclining their head dutifully—you’re not quite an executive yet, but with the Piano Man of the Flags dead, you and Chuuya are fighting for the next spot to open up. Chuuya will likely be the one to get it, which you think he deserves from all of the heavy lifting he’s done on operations the past two years, but you feel a bit awkward when they give you your due respect when you're here with your tail between your legs trying to talk to Dazai.

Sakaguchi and Oda take their leave when you arrive, giving short goodbyes to Dazai, telling them that they’ll see him another day, and the bartender makes a fumbled excuse about going to the back to restock, leaving you alone with Dazai. Internally, you wither just a bit because you think if they’d stayed, Dazai might keep a handle on himself because you know he views Oda highly; instead, they left you in the lion’s den alone. Which you might deserve, but you digress.

You let out a quiet puff of air as you make your way over to the bar stool next to Dazai, taking a seat in it carefully. Still, he doesn’t look at you, but you look at him and the aching in your chest returns tenfold as your gaze sweeps over him fully for the first time in months. During the joint meetings between the executives and sub-executives, you were always sure to keep your glances short and sweet, not wanting to risk any lingering looks, but now, you can look at him in his entirety for the first time since that fateful discussion three months ago. 

He hasn’t changed much. Or, well, that’s a lie. He’s definitely changed. The circles beneath his eye are darker, his expression a carefully constructed blank mask. You think he might’ve lost some weight, his coat has always been big on him but the way it hangs over his shoulders now is looser than it was before. If it weren’t for the way his fingers were tense around his glass of whiskey, you’d have thought he was entirely unperturbed by your arrival.

You don’t know what to say, and you know you need to be the first to speak because you’re the one that showed up here to talk to him, but now that you’re sitting in front of him you’re floundering for words. You could just come out and say that you broke up with your boyfriend, but you feel like that would be a bit weird, and he’d probably laugh in your face and make a comment about how he doesn’t care. You could ask him how he’s been, but you think he might genuinely put a bullet in you for trying to make small talk with him like that right now. 

The longer you stay silent, the more awkward it becomes, and you want to cry because you’ve never been awkward with Dazai before, and for a brief second, you wonder if things really have changed too much to go back to how they were. 

Finally, you decide to just come out and say, bracing yourself for the inevitable derisive words that are going to leave his lips. “I broke up with him.”

Dazai’s scoff is loud and instantaneous, you bite your tongue, eyes sliding shut as you turn to face ahead instead of looking at him. Cowardly, you know, but you don’t want to see the sneer on his face when he asks you why he should care. 

But he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say anything at first. If you were looking at him, you’d see the way his cold expression shifted into a more conflicted one, still staring ahead because he can’t bring himself to look at you. You count each passing second, and it’s agonizing waiting for him to speak, a part of you thinks that maybe he won’t, and you’ll just have to leave the bar with your tail between your legs, humiliated. 

But then he does. 

“Why?” he finally asks coolly, and your eyes snap open and your gaze slides over to him when you realize he did not, in fact, hit you with the derogation you expected.

He still isn’t looking at you, and you watch as he lifts his free hand back to his lips, taking another long drag of his cigarette as he waits for your response. You swallow thickly when you try to figure out what to say next. 

What you want to say is ‘because he wasn’t you,’ but you’re not ready to bare yourself vulnerable in front of him like that when he’s still so unpredictable. Just because he didn’t immediately hit you with the harsh words you expected, doesn’t mean he isn’t going to lure you in just to slap you in the face with it, which is how you’re sure he perceived what you did three months ago. 

Rather, you say quietly: “He was boring, I guess.”

It’s a lie. Well, a partial lie, at least. He was a good guy, he was just boring compared to what you wanted, and what you wanted was Dazai Osamu, who no one in the world could hope to compare to. 

“He was boring,” Dazai echoes your words, a cruel and mocking lilt to his voice, and you brace yourself now, taking the sudden switch in tone as the flicking off of the safety. But he shakes his head as he lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it’s another scoff or a laugh. “How cold-hearted of you. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given your track record.”

Two paths lay before you: you can take the words as well-deserved, trying to avoid the inevitable fight, or you can spit back equally venomous words, dive in headfirst so the two of you can get everything off of your chest. Both choices are double-edged. If you avoid the fight, it means avoiding the topic altogether, and even if the two of you choose to speak again, the resentment of what had happened will only poison and fester. If you dive into the fight, there’s a chance of saying words you can’t take back, and everything might fall apart anyway.

What do you want? You want to ask him, because you aren’t sure what the right decision is. Three months ago, if you and Dazai got into a disagreement about something, you would know in an instant whether or not he wanted to fight it out to let off steam or just pretend it didn’t happen. Now, you aren’t so sure. He’s still not looking at you, so you can’t use the look in his eye as a hint, but his shoulders are tense beneath his jacket, and his knuckles are white around his glass of whiskey. Your gaze drags up to his face, catching the way his jaw is tight, teeth probably grinding together, and you know. 

You look ahead again, leveling your vision on a particularly nice bottle of wine on the third shelf of the wine rack as you say: “I’d rather be cold-hearted than a coward.”

For the first time since you’ve arrived, Dazai’s gaze cuts in your direction, head snapping to the side. You turn your head toward him just enough for you to eye him from the corner of your eye, catching glimpse of the way his lip curled up into a snarl and the way flames now rage in the browns of his eye—a far cry from the bottomless void, but you prefer the anger to the emptiness. 

“A coward?” His voice is low, cold, dangerous. 

You’re treading on thin ice, but you choose to stoke the flame more, gaze sliding back to the wine racks ahead.

“A coward.”

The silence that hangs between the two of you is tense and damning, you have to force yourself not to react to it, keeping your expression as stony as his as you wait for his response. He’ll either hit you back with more venom or he’ll settle down, one will lead to a blow out fight and the other will lead to a very tense conversation. 

You don’t want to fight him, but if that’s what he wants, you’ll give it to him. 

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai makes another scornful noise but he doesn’t say anything, gaze snapping back ahead as he takes a drag of his cigarette, this one clearly fueled by anger, far more aggressive than the last one. As if to piss him off even more, he hardly gets half of a smoke, down to the nub already. Frustrated, he puts the lingering cinders out on the bartop before reaching for the pack in his pocket, pulling out a new cigarette and his lighter.

You watch as he tries to flick the lighter on, cigarette dangling between his lips, but the old thing refuses to cooperate. Distantly, you wonder why Dazai is so damn stubborn: working with an old lighter, living in a shitty shipping container, wearing the same few pairs of clothes every day when he probably has more money than god hoarded from his executive paycheck. But you only force yourself to not roll your eyes as you pull out your own lighter, flicking it on and holding it out to him without looking at him. 

You watch from the corner of your eye as he stares at your hand suspiciously before he exhales from the side of his mouth, dipping his head down to light the cigarette before he faces ahead again. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he reaches out for his glass of whiskey, still mostly full, and then he slides it over to you.

An offering. A white flag. 

You barely withhold the breath of relief that nearly escapes you, accepting the drink and taking a long sip of it. It’s his favorite brand, smooth and familiar on the tongue; you haven’t been able to bring yourself to drink it since your falling out with him. 

“Was it really because he was boring?” Dazai finally asks. He’s not looking at you again, but you can see from the way his fingers are tense against the bartop that he’s probably waiting for a certain response from you.

You let your eyes slide shut. “No,” you admit.

“Then why?” he presses, as if he doesn’t already know. 

“You know why,” you say tightly, shaking your head and looking down.

“Tell me anyway,” Dazai responds quietly, you can feel his gaze on you but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Irrationally, even though the atmosphere between the two of you has shifted, you wonder if this is it: he’s going to get you to admit it and then laugh in your face, cruel but probably deserved. 

“Because he wasn’t you,” you finally force out.

He doesn’t respond. Your heart sinks to your stomach, a sick feeling churning. You brace yourself again—you don’t know what for, maybe a laugh or a derisive comment, but he does nothing of the sort. 

A long exhale, smoke billowing around his face, a heavy look in his eyes. He doesn’t look at you as he says: “You’re right.”

You don’t respond because you’re not sure what he’s referring to. Finally, he tilts his head to look at you, a wry smile on his lips—your chest feels warm at the sight, you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him smile. Probably not since the falling out. 

“I was a coward.”

Oh.

The frustration you felt all of those months ago returns with a vengeance. You had danced with possibilities back then: that you were reading too much into things, that he didn’t actually care for you the way you did for him, that he simply did not want to be with you even if he did care about you that way. Now, faced with confirmation that he had felt the same but was just too pussy to act on it, your chest swells with that familiar anger. You force it away. 

“Why?” you ask after a few moments of silence, nails digging into the palm of your hands as you rest them on your lap. “I… I waited for two years, Dazai. I gave you so many openings. You knew how I felt.”

“I know.” His voice is quiet, barely audible. 

“Then why?” you repeat his words back to him, pressing hard just like he did. His throat bobs beneath his bandages as he swallows, averting his gaze, or trying to, at least, because you don’t let him. You reach out to grab his chin tightly, forcing him to look at you, and the pads of your fingers burn against his skin, hyper aware of the fact that this is the first time you’ve touched him in three months. “Why?”

His hand comes up to grab your wrist as if to pull your hand off of him, but he doesn’t, grip firm around your wrist, fingers pressing against your pulse point, and you’re acutely conscious of the fact that your pulse is probably racing but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“I told you why,” he says, voice uncharacteristically soft. Vulnerable in a way that you’ve never seen him before. “I was a coward. I… didn’t want to risk ruining our friendship... I don't have many friends. You know that. I would’ve rather just ignored how I felt and kept you as a friend, because I didn’t think there’d be a chance of losing you that way. I thought if I acted on how I felt, one day you’d eventually see me for what I am and I’d lose you altogether.”

“Some good that did you.” You can’t help the resentful words that spill from your lips, but you feel guilty when he winces, hand dropping back to your lap, his grip slipping from your wrist. “You think I don’t already see you for who you are? We’ve known each other since we were sixteen, Dazai. I know all of the sick and twisted thoughts that run through your head, I knew exactly what I was getting into.”

Dazai shakes his head, as if to deny your words. You get frustrated.

“I spend hours at your recovery bed after your attempts, I’ve caught you in the middle of them myself, do you know what the first thing I did was after I told you I had a boyfriend?” you demand, and he stares at you, unsure. “I put a protection detail on him because I thought you’d try to have him killed, or try to kill him yourself.”

Dazai winces. You shake your head and look away, settling down again. 

“For someone so smart, you really are so goddamn stupid sometimes,” you sigh, taking a long swig of his drink before placing the glass back down on the table. “I saw you for who you are, and I wanted you anyway.”

“Wanted?” Dazai asks, an uncertain expression on his face as he zeroes in on the past tense.

“Want,” you correct, voice little over a breath, and something akin to relief sweeps across his face as his gaze drops down to the bartop.

The silence that hangs between the two of you is more comfortable this time. Reassuring, even, because maybe things might still be awkward between the two of you for a while, but there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, one much brighter than the one the two of you lived in three months ago. 

“I can’t believe you went for a civilian,” Dazai suddenly says, almost sounding indignant. “A civilian. You!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you snap when you hear the incredulous tone he takes when he says ‘you’.

“You’re a stone cold bitch,” Dazai accuses and you gape, but you can’t find it in yourself to be offended because his eyes are lit up for the first time in months, a lopsided smile painted on his face. “And you’ve got as much blood on your hands as I do. You. A civilian. I think I would’ve been less offended if you went for Chuuya.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” you snort, and then you add, a bit amused, “you know what he wants a job as?” 

“Tell me,” Dazai drawls, resting his chin on his hand as he leans on the bar, watching you with such a fond expression that it makes you feel warm all over. 

God, you missed him the past three months. 

“He wanted to go to law school. Become a public defender.”

Dazai chokes over the smoke he inhales, and you press your hand to your lips to smother your giggles as he desperately wheezes between laughs. You’re not sure if he’s actually choking, you think he might actually be dying from how red his face is getting.

“Maybe you should keep in contact with him then,” he gasps between laughs, “we might need one of those one day.”

“As if you’re sloppy enough to ever get caught,” you say dryly.

He winks at you, his grin sharpening, and you know you’re not going to like what he’s about to say. “Oh, I’m not. By ‘we’, I meant you.”

“Douchebag.” You roll your eyes, letting another silence settle over the two of you, a smile on your lips now as you take another sip of your drink. He’s the one to break it again.

“... Odasaku convinced me not to, by the way.”

“What?” 

“To kill him. I was going to. Odasaku convinced me not to.”

You let out a sigh of utter suffering, giving Dazai a pointed look—see, you say silently, I know you. He has the decency to look a bit sheepish as lifts his cigarette back to his mouth in lieu of responding to your unspoken words. 

“Stop with the self sabotage, Dazai,” you finally say, tired. “For both of our sakes’.”

He doesn’t respond, and you know him well enough to know that he’ll probably never stop with the self sabotage, but he does reach out to lace your fingers with his, and the warm feeling that spreads through your chest is enough to satiate you. 

Little steps, because no, the Mafia is not a conducive place for relationships and yes, it’s only a matter of time before luck runs out for one of you, but if your life is destined to be short, there’s only one person you want to spend it with.

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

[403tarot]

. . . THINGS YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE WILL NOTICE THE MOST (AND LOVE) ABOUT YOU + LITTLE ANALYSIS OF THE RELATIONSHIP

hello! today's subject is future spouses, to the ones that seek a true love. take what resonates to you and leave the rest away. close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose the pic that calls you the most. feedbacks are always highly appreciated <3

PICK A PILE !

* i recommend you to listen to the song and read the lyrics after reading your pile for a more immersive experience in the vibe of your relationship with your future spouse !

IF YOU CHOSE PILE 1 ...

wow, your meeting with your future spouse will be a soul connection. destiny will lead you to them so that finally, your lives regain balance.

this person will appreciate the fact that you're always willing to roll up your sleeves and solve your problems. your attitude and talent for dealing with difficult situations come from a long path of responsibilities and maturity. many times, you had to take the lead and handle situations for which you weren't prepared, with no assistance – just you and your survival instinct. however, this hasn't made you lose the part of you that wants to experience pure and true love, someone who loves you for who you are and takes care of you.

i see that this relationship will be very peaceful and kind, a new stage in both of your lives. you might feel like you've known each other for a long time, even from past lives. this sensation might scare you a bit at first because you might not be used to having someone who understands and responds to you and your ways as well as your future spouse, as your connection might be the strongest you'll ever experience with someone in your lifetime.

this person will be the one who admires the little things about you, from your most impressive talents to the sound of your laughter. expect many candlelit dinners, conversations under the moonlight, and someone who covers you with a warm blanket if you fall asleep first. they will watch you as you sleep and count each of your eyelashes, resisting the urge to trace your lips with the tips of their fingers just to touch you and make sure you're real. you will be a gift in each other's lives for sure.

cards pulled: 8 of pents, page of cups, strength, justice | the lovers, the moon | ace of wands, 2 of pents, knight of wands | ace of pents, the world | blood bond (connections)

IF YOU CHOSE PILE 2 ...

your relationship with your future spouse will be the model of the relationship you've always dreamed of. when you saw a couple with such a beautiful connection that happiness seemed to radiate from the people involved, and you wondered if you would ever have something like that, know that your relationship will be your ultimate standard.

one of the things your future spouse will admire most about you is your persistence and commitment to everything you set out to do, including your relationship. i see you as the one who takes care of things, who ensures that the relationship stays on track with your ability to always keep everything in its proper place. this person will find you very intelligent and coherent not only about life matters but also emotionally. you are someone in constant evolution who always seeks to be a new and improved version of yourself without losing your authenticity.

this relationship will make you feel capable of achieving anything when you're by this person's side. they will always encourage you to pursue your aspirations and cheer for you wholeheartedly. beyond that, they will be there with you in your victories, defeats, sorrows, and joys. you'll be able to lean on this person and open up your feelings to them because you know they'll understand you like no one else ever could.

your future spouse will love loving you and will also enjoy showing their feelings! it's as if this person wants to shout to the whole world how happy they are to have the opportunity to create a beautiful love story with you. expect them to take many photos of you to post on their feed, for you to be a frequent star in their stories, and also a significant commitment ring on your finger. after talking so much about how incredible you are to everyone, they have to make sure that everyone knows your heart already belongs to someone.

cards pulled: 4 of wands, queen of pents, page of wands, king of swords & king of wands | the sun & 6 of wands | the magician & 2 of pents | witches boots (stability)

IF YOU CHOSE PILE 3 ...

the relationship with your future spouse will sweep you off your feet. if you're the type of person who's afraid to show emotions due to past relationships and struggles with reciprocation, know that the universe plans to push you against the wall on this. your future spouse will gradually enter your heart and awaken a sentimental side within you that you never even imagined could (still) exist. they will revolutionize the way you express affection in all types of relationships you have in your life.

i see that this person will really appreciate your worldview and your stances. they'll want to know your opinion and value what you have to say; your ideas will matter to them. your future spouse will be someone who truly listens to you and cares about understanding how you see things. they'll admire how you engage with the world and how you showcase your personality through your clothes, the way you style your hair, your accessories and will notice every little aspect of your being and how it reflects in you, even things you thought no one else but you would notice.

your future spouse will want to heal your heart, and together you'll heal each other's souls. i see this person viewing you as a precious treasure and wanting to lay the world at your feet, protect you, and be a solid pillar for you to lean on during tough times. you'll both feel incredibly fortunate to have each other in your lives, and from this union, i see you both taking lessons that will help you evolve as individuals.

your future spouse will be someone who wants to take you on adventures and explore the world. visiting historical places like museums or art galleries will become a frequent routine in your lives. they're the type who'll want to take you to lunch at a quaint and charming bistro as you watch people pass by the window, trying to guess what they do in life, their purposes, and dreams. they'll love your sense of humor and how you present your ideas. expect them to gift you an album of photos containing all the memorable moments you've shared — it will be a quite thick album.

cards pulled: page of wands, 2 of wands, 9 of pents, the empress, ace of cups | queen of cups, 6 of cups & the tower | the lovers, king of cups, the emperor | queen of swords, ace of wands, 7 of cups | black kitten (inner child)

you can book a reading with me! a full analysis of your relationship with your FS + NSFW for just $30. an analysis of how would be a romantic relationship with your favorite idol is $25 and the NSFW comes with it as a bonus! check my pinned to know more!

#tarot readings #PAC #pick a pile #pick a card #free readings #tarot community #tarotblr #future spouse reading #pick a photo #— duckie notes ⪩♡⪨

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Ok I know you said time won't make them nicer to each other.

But I need her reaction to Carlos being diagnosed with appendicitis. Maybe she's the one that takes him to the hospital?!

The Uphill Battle {2} || CS55

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, name calling, angst

WC: 2.9k

Part One

Carlos was grumpier than usual. And that was saying something since he had been in a mood since the news broke about Lewis taking his seat. You could understand that after losing seats to guys all the time before getting a spot in the Academy. Carlos, however, was not used to that feeling and it showed as he pushed himself harder at each training.

“You’re too weak,” he taunted as you wiped the sweat from your brow and started another set of reps with trembling arms. “It’s like you don’t even want to be in F1.”

You let the weight bar fall into the shelf and sat up. “Go project yourself onto someone else, you miserable shit.”

After taking second place at the feature race in Bahrain you had shown you had the drive for F1, but it didn’t seem to change his training approach. He was still firmly on the path of insult until you explode and prove him wrong. To be fair, it had worked so far.

A muscled arm, followed by a bare chest, blocked your way when you stood up, a sneer pulling at his lips. “You’re not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking. Now get out of my way, you have free practice to get ready for.”

He looked at the clock on the wall and sighed. He hadn’t meant to let time get away from him but when he found you in the gym he decided to finish his warm up routine alongside you. It had been a mistake because he couldn’t help but pester and critique you until he completely forgot what he was meant to be doing.

“Fine, but you need to stay and finish your set. That was just embarrassing to watch.”

“I’m done. With you. And with your training. Go fuck yourself, Junior.” You shoved past him, your elbow connecting with his gut, before you made your way to the stack of towels. You felt his presence follow you to the changing rooms and he closed the door to the shower cubicle.

“You’re done when I say you are done,” Carlos growled, turning you to face him before he pressed your back to the cold tile wall.

You tipped your head back and laughed darkly. “Only for the next nine months, then I’m Lewis’ problem. Or, maybe I’ll get the golden boy as my PT. Charles seems sweet and kind, I wouldn’t mind testing his patience.”

“Listen here, you little-” Whatever threat you would have ignored was lost as you flipped the handle of the cold tap and washed it gush out of the showerhead and straight into Carlos’ face.

“You were saying?”

“Brat.” The timber in his voice had the desired effect as his hand enveloped your throat and pulled you under the cold spray. His lips crashed against yours and his thigh nudged your legs apart, your hips riding the thick muscle as you kissed him back just as passionately. “I really hate you.”

You grinned, but it was more a baring of teeth ready to sink into his skin. “I don’t even hate you, that’s how little I feel about you.”

His palm glided over your ribs, touching the flesh bared by the sports bra you trained in, and slipped between the waistband of your shorts. His fingers spread your folds and curled into your core as your head fell back against the tiles.

“You feel something,” Carlos chuckled, dipping his head down to leave his mark on the swell of your breast. “Or you wouldn’t feel so fucking wet.”

“God I hate it when you open your mouth, just fuck me already.”

Carlos pulled the elastic waistband and let it snap back against your skin. The twanging pain was instant but then it was gone as he dragged the material down your legs. Another ache flared as he sunk his teeth into the soft supple skin on your thigh and you cried out at the heat that radiated from the indents he left behind.

“Fucking savage,” you growled, but you both knew how much you liked it that way.

“Sticks and stones, malcriada.”

You were needy, impatient, and well aware someone would come looking for Carlos as the countdown to free practice began. The lure of a verbal repartee would have to wait if you wanted some pleasure to balance out the pain in the arse that was Carlos. You pushed Carlos onto the bench where your dry towel had been abandoned and he lifted his hips for you to drag his shorts off.

“You gonna ride this di-“ You slapped your hand over his mouth to silence him and straddled his hips, sinking down on his cock with a moan that echoed around the changing room.

“Be a good boy and keep the commentary to yourself if you want a happy ending,” you warned as you let your hand fall to his shoulder and started to roll your hips. He heeded your words and bit his bottom lip to keep from saying something that would leave him with blue balls.

His hands gripped your waist and guided you up and down, setting rhythm that had you bouncing on his dick and an orgasm quickly building. The heat flashing across your body was the perfect contrast to the droplets of cold water collecting on your back and shivering down your spine.

“Fuck, harder,” you begged as your head fell back and he grazed his teeth over your throat. Your gasp filled the small cubicle as he nipped sharply at your skin and you raked your nails down his chest, earning a deep groan from his parted lips. The pained sound made your cunt clench and flutter before he suddenly stood up and turned you to face the wall. The emptiness within your body was quickly filled with the snap of his hips and his hand slapped over your mouth to muffle the cry at the sudden fullness.

“Shut up and take it,” he ordered quietly in your ear. “This is what you asked for.”

Carlos’ hands fell to your hips, bruising your skin with their harsh grip as he pounded into you. The slap of your bodies colliding filled the small space and your eyes rolled back into your head as your legs began to tremble. Your breathing deepened and you forgot where you were as your mind emptied and your body exploded.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Carlos moaned, your walls tightening around him with your orgasm. A wordless grunt warmed your ear before he sealed his lips over your racing pulse and left his mark while he filled your cunt.

Your forehead pressed to the cool tile as you regained your breath and Carlos pulled out, chuckling as he watched his cum leak down your still trembling thighs. “God, you’re a whore.”

“That’s more of an insult to you, desperado,” you teased. “Should I send the invoice to you or Sainz Senior?”

You forced yourself upright and stepped under the cold spray to see his smirk fade as you washed his seed away. You both jumped at the loud knock on the bathroom door and a voice called out, “Carlos, are you in there? You’re going to be late.”

“Just a sec,” Carlos shouted back before attempting to step under the now warm spray. You cast your hands out, splaying your fingers across his torso, catching the pained wince that crossed his face.

“Tsk, tsk, Daddy’s calling,” you said with a shake of your head.

He looked down at himself, the evidence of what transpired glistening on his cock. “Seriously?”

It was your turn to smirk and push him back further before waving him off. “Good luck.”

Free practice was already underway by the time you finished showering and changing into fresh Ferrari merch. No one really paid you any mind as you found a good spot on the balcony above the pit lane and watched the final 30 minutes of track time.

Despite there being better performers, your eyes kept being drawn back to your PT and the lowly 7th place he finished. You had catalogued a list of insults for him and went down to the debrief room ready to rule him up when you found him leaning against the corridor wall. Lines from his balaclava creased his cheeks and his eyes screwed shut as he clutched a hand to his stomach.

“Don’t think playing sick will let you off the hook for that performance,” you said as you crossed your arms.

There was no humour in his face, no wry amusement that usually came with your insults. Instead, he silently pushed off from the wall and made his way on towards the briefing room.

You kind of felt bad as you left the track and returned to the hotel. There had been a misstep in the turbulent dance that had been going on for months and you were left unsettled by it. Nothing on the tv could distract you enough that you finally gave up and took the elevator to Carlos’ floor. It was late but you figured he would still be awake as you knocked on his door.

“You look like shit,” you greeted, but your voice was thick with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Sweat beaded on his forehead and the sickly sheen covered his bare chest too. Reaching out, you felt his skin burning like a furnace and he swayed on his feet before leaning on the doorway.

“You don’t care, so just go,” he rasped, his voice pained and weak.

You rolled your eyes and stepped around him to see a sick bowl on the coffee table with some painkillers beside it and a rumpled blanket spread over the couch. He made to follow but he could barely hold himself up and it was only your arms that kept him collapsing. “Fuck sake, Carlos, you need a hospital.”

“Just need sleep,” he argued. His body shivered and his throat worked to swallow but you had been through enough hangovers to know what was coming. You leapt for the sick bowl and barely got it under his face before he hurled up the bright blue electrolyte drink that you spotted on the table.

“Where’s your phone and your keys?” He peeked up from the bowl pitifully and he saw the determined look on your face before pointing to the kitchen. “Can you stand on your own? Don’t look so offended, it’s a reasonable question in your state.”

“I’m fine.”

“And I’m Max Verstappen.” You let go of him for a second to see if he would crumple to the carpet but he seemed to hold himself on pure stubbornness so you dashed to the kitchen to dump the bowl in the sink and grab his belongings.

“Planning on robbing me too?” he asked as he noticed you grabbed his wallet too.

“Since I’m apparently a whore, you owe me a hefty debt,” you muttered sarcastically. “It’s for your ID, asshole.”

Carlos didn’t deign to respond as he curled one arm around your shoulders, leaning heavily into your embrace, and the other clutched his abdomen.

“You’ve been in pain since practice, haven’t you?”

“Maybe…can we just go?”

You pocketed his things and took as much weight as you could off him, using every ounce of your strength training as you guided him to the elevator. It was strange to see him so reserved in the elevator mirror as it headed down to the underground car park and it was even stranger to sit in the driver seat of his car.

“Please don’t crash it,” he murmured as you started it up and headed out into the street.

“I know you don’t believe it, but I am actually a decent driver,” you muttered. The city traffic was busy 24/7 but the satnav came in handy with the directions to the emergency room at the nearest hospital. “Should I call your dad?”

“No. It’s probably nothing but a stomach bug.”

That ‘probably nothing’ turned out to be acute appendicitis. You could have laughed at how spectacularly wrong Carlos was but you were too worried as he was wheeled away to surgery and you were left to make a phone call.

‘Do not call him Daddy Sainz,’ you reminded yourself as you entered the passcode on Carlos’ phone and hoped he wasn’t too delusional to get it right. Thankfully it unlocked and you went to his contacts. “Hello, Mr Sainz?”

“Who is this?” he asked worriedly.

“It’s Y/N, I drive for Ferrari in the Academy, uh, Carlos is my Mentor.”

“Where is my son? Why do you have his phone?”

“He’s at the hospital. They’re just taking him into surgery now to remove his appendix.”

The elder Sainz must had put you on speakerphone as you heard the noises at his end increase. “Which hospital? Why are you only calling me now?”

“King Fahad Armed Forces and you’re welcome, by the way, if it wasn’t for me your son would still be curled up on the couch in his room until it burst.”

“He said you had an attitude,” the old man muttered quietly before he resigned himself to a sigh. “Thank you. I’ll be there soon.”

You sent him the ward number that Carlos would be brought through when he was out of surgery and tried to make yourself comfortable on a vinyl chair. It must have been cozy enough as you dozed off, only waking when a nurse tapped your shoulder and smiled sweetly. “Mr Sainz is on his way up now, the operation went well.”

You rubbed your eyes and thanked her as you sat up to see almost two hours had passed. It was then you noticed a pair of brown eyes were watching curiously from across the room.

“Have you been watching me sleep?” you asked as you stretched and cracked your back.

The old man snorted a laugh and put down the almost empty styrofoam cup of black coffee. “You don’t need to wait, I can look after him from here.”

“And ruin my perfect posture for nothing? I’m fine waiting a bit longer.” You stood up and made your way to the percolator jug of black sludge and poured yourself a cup too before pacing the room. “Have you been talking with the other teams yet?”

His eyes followed you back and forth like he was trying to pick your brain apart. “About what?”

“2025. He’s too good for his F1 career to end now.”

The old man stood up too and refilled his cup. “Would you like milk and sugar?” he asked when he noticed your face scrunch at the first sip.

“Just a tiny dash of milk please, no sugar. I like my coffee like I like my men: a little dark and bitter.”

He chuckled and poured a small amount of milk into your cup before returning to his seat. “I can see why my son likes you.”

You spluttered on your mouthful and hurried to swallow the hot liquid. “You must be thinking about someone else. Carlos and I just about have a mutual understanding, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he borderline hates me.”

“Can’t be too many female Ferrari drivers that he mentors from the Academy, because I sincerely remember his comment about her,” the old man teased, crossing one leg over the other and staring over the rim of his cup. His eyebrow arched, daring you to correct him until he took the silence with an air of smugness.

Sounds grew along the quiet ward and soon Carlos was wheeled in on a hospital bed, parking into the empty space that had been between the two chairs. Though he looked a little sleepy, Carlos was awake and he smiled dopily from where he lay looking up at you.

“The doctors said your testicle retrieval went well.”

His smile broke with a deep laugh and he turned to look at his amused dad. “I see you met her.”

“I did.” Carlos Senior stood up and kissed his son’s forehead. “I’m glad you had her to take care of you, son. I’ll give you a few moments alone.”

You frowned as his dad left the room, waiting for the door to close quietly behind him. “What the hell were you thinking! Why didn’t you say anything? You could have died!”

Carlos shrugged and shifted carefully to get comfortable on this pillow behind his head. “We don’t exactly have the sort of relationship where we talk about things.”

You huffed and lifted his head, fluffing the pillow before shoving it back into place. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Back to the insults, finally.” The sick bastard smiled happily and settled into the pillow with a contented sigh. “For a moment I thought I died and went to heaven.”

“Not funny.”

“Was so, you just care about me too much to laugh. Admit it, you would’ve missed me.” He opened his hand and inched it closer to the edge of the bed.

“They must have given you the strong stuff, you’re clearly delusional,” you said with a roll of your eyes but placed your hand into his palm and he closed his fingers around them. “Your dad seems to think you like me.”

Carlos yawned and closed his eyes, but a smile played on his lips. “That’s probably the beginning of dementia. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t,” you chuckled. A few moments of silence filled the room before a soft snore broke the quiet. Careful not to wake him, you kissed his cheek and whispered, “I’m glad you’re okay, Junior.”

“Knew it,” he said as he cracked one eye open and grinned.

You let go of his hand and dropped into your chair with an annoyed huff. “Asshole.”

“Brat.”

#ollie answers #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader

[remuslovebot]

Wildest Dreams | BW

pairing: bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, not proof read, Bruce being lovesick, established relationship. lmk if I missed anything

a/n: send me requests 🥺🥺 also lmk if you want to be on the tag list

taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @allysunny @junmsli

☽☽☽

Bruce Wayne had lived a difficult life. Well maybe not as difficult as one would expect. He was a rich playboy with a mansion and had a butler. But losing his parents at a young age took a tole on the man.

You were Bruce’s sunlight, guiding him away from the darkness inside him. Of course, as Batman he made Gotham a better place. But you, you made Bruce Wayne a better person.

You and Bruce had plans tonight. As his day job of being a rich philanthropist and carrying on the Wayne legacy, he must attend and host gala’s for Gotham’s elite.

Tonight was one of those Gala’s. The Williams family made a large donation to fund a homeless shelter in Gotham. This meant, a lot of the homeless population in Gotham would be properly housed instead of living on the street and resulting to crime.

Bruce was never one to like Gala’s. He thought the people whom attended them were ingenuine and cared more about their appearance instead of actually helping the city.

You tried to tell him that at least the money would help. Bruce couldn’t argue with that. You were right. Their money would help Gotham, but their attitude was atrocious.

One night, Bruce had gotten visibly jealous as he caught a man — who used to be one of this father’s close confidants — hitting on you at the open bar.

“And do you know what I said to my fellow soldiers?” The creepy old man asked.

You were not interested in the conversation. He was very clearly flirting with you and it made you uncomfortable. “No, I don’t,” you said, vaguely and uninterested.

Suddenly a warm and comforting hand wrapped around your waist. A familiar kiss pressed against your cheek. You turned and a smile graced your features. Bruce.

“Did you tell them you’re flirting with someone who is old enough to be your daughter?” Bruce said to the old man. “If you will excuse us, we have to talk to Commissioner Gordon.”

As Bruce swept you away, he pinched your side playfully. “Thank you,” you said up to his ear.

“Couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else getting close to you. Especially an old creep like him,” he said.

You liked when Bruce got possessive, although you would let him know that. You wouldn’t be able to live it down.

You were currently getting ready for tonight’s gala, standing infront of your large mirror and putting on your diamond jewelry. It was a present that Bruce had gifted you.

“You look breathtaking,” Bruce said. Think of the devil and he shall appear. He’d leaning against the wall, looking at you in the mirror. You look at him, seeing him in the glass.

“Thank you,” you say softly, a blush covering your cheeks.

Bruce is wearing a fancy suit and a navy blue tie to match the color of your dress. You fix a diamond earring and then turn around to face him. Walking, towards him.

“Your tie is crooked Mr. Wayne,” you smile, fixing his tie.

He hums in response, placing his hands delicately on your waist. “What would I do without you?” Bruce asked softly.

You smile back at him, placing a reassuring kiss on his cheek.

During the gala, Bruce pulled you to him on the dance floor. “Dance with me?” He gently asked.

You nodded in agreement and placed your hand in his. Bruce placed a hand on your waist and connected your other hand. The classical music surrounding the dance floor, enveloped you both completely.

Your head rested on his shoulder and he looked down at you with such content and happiness. “I love you,” Bruce whispered.

Bruce had never shared this information before now. He’d thought it obviously, how could he not love you — be in love with you.

You looked up at him, your beautiful eyes staring back at his. “I love you too Bruce,” you replied.

It was simple and sweet. Bruce and you deserved a quiet night in each others company.

Bruce leaned forward to kiss you. Returning the kiss you moved your arms to wrap around his neck. He pulled you close.

From across the ballroom, a photographer snapped a picture. You two looked like Gotham’s happiest couple. Bruce had found the woman of his dreams and his home.

“You’re my wildest dreams,” Bruce said softly, rubbing his nose against your own. “I’m never letting you go.”

“Good,” you smiled contently.

#bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader #bale!bruce wayne #bale!bruce wayne x reader #chrisitan bale batman #Batman #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #the dark night x reader #the dark knight trilogy #the dark knight #dc comics #christian bale fluff #christian bale x reader

[celestialtarot11]

Friendship Synastry 🌹🌴

Hi friends! Just thought I’d do this post because someone mentioned there weren’t a whole lot of synastry posts focusing on platonic connections, which I agree ☝️ So let’s change that! Enjoy! Please like, comment and reblog 💅🏻

1st house overlay 💗- So beautiful! I share this with someone who I’ve known for 10 years! We see each other in one another. Growing up we always pretended we were cousins 😭 and everyone believed us. We both hype each other up and the friendship is harmonious.

Venus in the 4th house ✨- A feeling of home like no other. That same friend and I got disconnected for 7 years and somehow we reconnected! This placement truly is beautiful and embodies finding each other again and again in friendship. Both parties feel comfortable making jokes and sharing intimate details with one another. Both feel seen on a deeper level.

9th house synastry ❤️- Cultural differences in friendship! Both learn from different cultures and share their experiences with one another. Both are teaching each other new things and love to engage in topics of philosophy! At some point both could live away from one another and have to travel to see one another. Short distance or long distance!

10th house stellium 🌟- Both inspire each other to be better versions of themselves. Mutual level of respect depending on what planets fall into the 10th house. Both see each other as people who can bounce ideas off one another without shame! If the planets are afflicted or malefic, the friendship can turn into competition to boost ego.

Scorpio stellium ☮️- Transformative connection. Both see each other at their worst and help each other out. If the planets are afflicted or malefic, the friendship can end with betrayal or end suddenly due to private information being let out. For example, something personal only the other person would know. If ifs aspected good, the friendship is a deep bond and feels familiar to both. Intuitive, and spiritually deep connection. Both dream of one another.

6th house sun 💆‍♀️- The planet person may ask a lot of help from the house person! Not necessarily a bad thing, but if this is aspected negatively it can be more of “pain in the ass” kind of feeling 😭 Especially if the friendship isn’t going well. But when aspected positively, the house person can teach a lot to the sun person and it’s a beautiful exchange of knowledge. Set boundaries ya’ll! 6th house synastry requires boundaries too. 6th house synastry can also suggest that friend popping up randomly to visit you!

Mars in the 6th house 🌹- The mars person empowers the house person to be better and take initiative in their life. Brings a lot of energy, joy, stamina, and life to the connection. Without the mars person the house person may feel bored, or disconnected in their life. It’s important the house person knows to balance their energies with action vs rest! The mars awakens the house person!

Moon in the 11th house 💅🏻- If the house person has chiron there I’ve noticed they sympathize a lot with the moon person. Both may face criticism in the friendship and jealousy, because both seem like a power duo. Growing up I experienced a lot of this with my friend we share this synastry, and people have found reasons to shame us! If there is no chiron, the moon person is often comforted by the house person. There is a deep connection and a sense of community present for both 🌹😊

Leo on the Descendant ✨- After reconnecting both people would’ve gone through a major glow up in their personal lives and physically! Both people could be in touch with their hearts and emotional truth. In some other connections I’ve seen people get in touch with their egos rather than their authenticity. The connection can lose spark!

Aquarius ascendant 🫂- Both felt and experienced the black sheep phenomenon growing up. They are able to connect on that and lift each other up. Close knit community! Especially if they knew each other for years. Both are unique individuals but mesh together so well because both embrace their authenticity and power in the connection. Both can view the connection as unique, irreplaceable, and unforgettable.

Leo stellium 🌟- Lots of hyping each other up, feel good feelings and love 💅🏻💗 Both are great at lifting each other up! When one person feels discouraged the other has their back and vice versa. If the connection is afflicted it can easily lead to competition, jealousy and control issues. If the connection is great both are literal teddy bears to one another and are protective 🌹

Their rising falling into your 5th house ❤️- The rising person brings a lot of fun, adventure and play into the connection! The house person sees the rising person as connected to their inner child, bold, vibrant and a leader. Also a protector in a lot of ways, emotionally and physically. They could feel very safe with the rising person. The rising person naturally causes the house person to open up and have fun ✨

Moon in the 5th house 🌹- Nurturing, intuitive and beautiful connection. Peaceful and chill. Telepathy is common between the two and this placement doesn’t necessarily dull the fun, rather through fun and laughter the two feel their bond growing deeper. The moon person offers a creative safe space for the house person to explore and open up.

Venus in the 12th house 🌟- In a healthy friendship, both are connected to the spirit realm and connected to each other spiritually, and acknowledge that. They allow their intuition to grow together and foster a deep sense of belonging. Both feel like they truly accept one another for who they are and the healing of wounds related to love begins. More so platonically, both feel they can open up to receive care ❤️ Mother wounds heal a lot in this connection.

Cancer Venus in the 5th house ☮️- The cancer person shares a lot of emotional wisdom to the house person, and both have fun like no other. Truly this represents the intertwining of two souls on a platonic level. The venus person is so encompassing of emotion, and brings a sense of community and comfort to the house person. The house person makes space and room for the wisdom the venus person holds, and together the two share a unique bond.

Aries rising falling into your 2nd house 💨- The aries person is seen as vivacious, bold, intelligent, and self assured. Sometimes may struggle with self worth and esteem, but with the house person Aries can learn a thing or two about self esteem. Vice versa, I feel that both people learn about self worth and confidence in the connection and both bring out the best in one another. The house person gives a sense of grounding to Aries rising, and Aries rising brings the heat and passion to the house person ❤️

Thats all I have friends! Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing your love with me ❤️☮️ Please like comment and reblog for support! Your feedback is always appreciated.

Paid Readings 💗

#astrology community #devi post #astrology #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot deck #tarot #witchcraft #tarot reading