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bllk-after-dark · 1 year

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wildest fantasies.

pairing. itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu, nagi seishiro x f!reader

content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, how the top 6 imagine fucking you, dom!character x sub!reader, vary in each installment, some are prevalent than others (oops), written in lowercase

itoshi rin. breeding kink, creampie, degradation, edging, fingering, jealousy, marking, possessive behavior, wall sex

mine is written on your skin with invisible ink. he fumes at a player from his team talking to you, who seems to be having fun when he sees you laugh. he doesn’t experience rage quite often, but that guy is the initial point and gets worse when the poster boy of blue lock strikes up a conversation with you.

“what’s with the silent treatment, rin?” you become frustrated over the lack of dialogue. the entire ride on the way home was tense and he treated you like a ghost. he also feels the same, but for different reasons. as the two of you enter your house, he pins you to the door with both arms above your head and cunt on his knee. you attempt to focus on lust in his eyes as his tongue battles against yours and teeth nips at your throat to leave bruises in its wake.

“craving attention from him out of all people, hm? fucking slut.” you gasp at the sharp friction of his knee against your cunt. he isn’t this rough and riled up, not that you’re complaining. he slips his fingers inside, pumping them in and out very slowly as punishment. “think he can fuck you like this? lukewarm, want him and everyone else to know that you’re mine.”

to prolong this type of behavior, you instill delicious images in his head. “how are you gonna show me off? the hickeys, sure. but what about a ring on my finger? your cum dripped out of me? or perhaps a baby in me?”

he pulls his fingers out when you’re nearing an orgasm, leaving you a whining mess. the impulse to buy a fancy ring with his salary and propose to you live, to fuck you in the locker rooms to see copious amounts of cum staining your underwear, and to fuck you enough to make you pregnant so that damn golden boy can mind his own business — which he’ll gladly make it happen. he rams his cock in you without warning and spends the entire day in the bedroom to make sure it takes.

“ah, there you are. i had to ask one of your teammates, but we lost track.” he’s back in the stadium, dazed from his daydreaming. you didn’t notice him blanking out as you’re busy geeking out about his plays. “watching a match in-person was so exciting! i get to see you steal a ball by kicking it between another player’s legs and score a goal with a direct shot— is that it? whatever, you’re so cool, rin!”

he shuts you up by kissing you, and everyone in the stadium reacts in a domino effect. the cameras pan to the two of you so it’s on live television, his fans freak out that he’s actually in a relationship, and his teammates — specifically that guy — are in pure disbelief. you wonder why he had done that, but he looks proud so you didn’t pry any further. “there. now the whole world knows.”

shidou ryusei. anal sex, blowjob, cuckolding, exhibitionism, face fucking, impact play (spanking), shower sex

demon is what everyone refers to him as. known to be vicious in the field, people hate to admit that he’s a damn good player. aside from being skilled at soccer, he’s also skilled at pulling risque acts in the context of yourself — willing to let the whole world know how tight you are. right now he’s fucking you from behind in the shower with hands on the wall and back slightly bent to stabilize yourself from his powerful thrusts.

“shit, you’re even tighter than yesterday!” he howls as his thick and wide cock drags along your walls and slaps your ass multiple times, leaving a red handprint there. this is a position favored by the both of you, and it never gets old. although, you do want to try out other things that you and he can find exciting. what he says afterwards is an adventure you can’t wait to embark on.

“i wonder if eyelashes will agree with me. how about we invite him someday?” you’d like that very much, honored to be acknowledged as a favorite pastime by the best player in japan. for now you want to practice sucking your boyfriend off, so you detach from him and kneel in front of his dick, lapping the bulbous tip with your tongue.

“holy shit, you’re tight here too! fucking hell… i dunno which one i like more but let’s find out, hm?” he shoves his cock deep into your throat and grips your head as he bucks his hips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull at how stimulating it is.

“feeling so fucking good. looking so fucking good, too. i bet you’ll do even better at the shower stalls in the locker rooms. or at a bar. or at an alley. or—” it’s incredible how he manages to talk about his shameless ideas when he’s at the verge of cumming whereas on the other hand you phased out. streams of opaque white gush out past your lips and trickle down your chin. his dick is still hard, meaning he’s ready for another round. his stamina is inhuman, like a demon. but knowing him, he won’t be satisfied until he has tried out every single thing on his growing list.

“can’t believe you took a nap during our bath. was expecting you to be more awake from the bath bomb i bought, but i guess not.” he’s greeted with a sweet peck, eyes fluttering halfway but can see you beaming at him brightly like the lights in the room. “got your towel here. now i have to drain the water, so shoo.”

he wraps his towel around his waist and then observes you unplug the drain. he happens to sneak a peek at the curve of your ass when you bend over to reach it, smug at how he happens to catch wind of how glorious the view is. he startles you by pinching the fat of your cheeks, and you turn to him, completely flustered. “what? want me to do it again?”

karasu tabito. aftercare, hand holding/kissing, insecurities, loss of virginity, missionary, petnames (baby), praise

sorry is your automatic reply when he hints that he wants to have sex. you’re a virgin; the thought of being unable to satisfy someone, especially one experienced such as himself, is deeply rooted in your head. on the contrary, it’s a huge turn on. since it’s your first time, he wants to make it extra special. it makes him more excited than he should be so he tries to tone it down to not scare you.

he reaches for your face, staring at him like a lost puppy. he smirks at how entranced you are when his fingers slide to your chin then glide over your lips. he kisses you hard, taking your breath away as he gently pushes you down on the bed. he gives you time to breathe while he takes off his shirt. you looking intently on him makes his heart flutter, that his body is for your eyes only.

“i’m okay. you can keep going,” you tell him when he checks up on you. with the slight encouragement of his hand drawing circles on your skin, you take off your shirt as well so he can explore more of your body. the two of you eventually strip yourselves to bareness in the midst of devouring each other with tongue and spit.

“squeeze if you want me to stop.” your hand is intertwined with his, ready to signal for the sake of your safety. he slowly penetrates you, his cock buried to the hilt inside your pussy. he blabbers about how you’re taking him so well, swearing he’ll cum faster than expected. he hooks a leg on his shoulder which allows him to thrust into you harder and deeper. the pitch of your voice rises higher and higher, you pull him toward your mouth to crash your lips against his. you hate how you sound it seems, but rest assured, it tells him that he has done his job right.

“shit, baby. you’re so perfect for me. how is this possible— agh,” he hisses out as he spills inside you. you’ve gone exhausted afterwards, skin sensitive from the caresses on your curves and kisses on your hands. this is what he’d like to happen, but the next time he blinks, you’re lying beside him fully clothed, meaning that the scenario is anything but real.

“tabito? you’re not saying anything.” you avert your gaze from his. you’re ashamed of literally pushing him away, believing that he’ll take offense judging from his silence. “i didn’t mean to do that. it happened so fast that i freaked out. can we start over and… start a little bit slower?”

“sure. let’s take things slow, then.” he kisses your forehead as a way to reassure you that you haven’t done anything wrong. somehow it makes you bolder, being the one to initiate the kiss while sneaking your hands under his shirt unconsciously. you immediately retract from the sudden move and are about to apologize for acting out of the blue. he cuts off a smile, gesturing you to keep on going. he’s so weak for you, and he’ll do anything to make you happy.

otoya eita. begging, cunnilingus, mutual masturbation, nipple play, phone sex, toxic relationships (with reader’s ex)

relief washes over him hearing that you broke up with your former significant other through the phone. he never liked them to begin with and doesn’t understand what you see in them. being the good friend he is, he wants what's best for you. yet he decides to remain civil, albeit painfully. though, it’s not as painful as suppressing his sinful thoughts about you crumbling under touch.

“eita? can you do me a favor?” he loves your voice, but you saying his name is his greatest weakness. instead of heading it wirelessly, he’d prefer you moaning it in his ears when he’s railing you into a begging mess. he should feel guilty for harboring these feelings as he promised to play the ‘good friend’ role. but promises are meant to be broken anyway. “can you make me forget about them?”

the lines of friendship blur into indescribable tension. you express your frustration over the shitty quality of your sex life your former partner provided, rambling about how badly you want to be fucked on someone’s mouth. the cries of your nipples and clit aching to be touched causes his cock to strain in his pants. sex isn’t a topic you confide in with your friends, especially your male friends, but now it doesn’t matter. you called him to forget after all.

“to tell you the truth, you’ve been driving me crazy,” he sighs with his head leaned back as he pumps his length. labored breaths and whimpers are heard on your end; it seems you have the same idea. “so you want me to make you forget? what if i tell you i’m jerking off right now, wishing that i was inside that pretty pussy of yours? what about you, wishing that my mouth is there too and on your pretty tits to claim what has been mine in the first place?”

“i’m yours, always yours. please, faster!” your whines become more frequent that he cums on his hand and some on his thighs. he leans against the headboard, catching his breath alongside you. if you’re here, he’d leave more proof that you’re forever his with no room for your ex in your world as it should. yet it’s all white noise. the entire time he has been blanking out, so you were waiting for an eternity for him to say something.

“hello? earth to eita?” he snaps back to reality. the only real thing is the stickiness of his hand that’s covered in cum, so he really has been mindlessly jacking off to your voice. “i asked if you can do me a favor but i think i rather stop by your place to cool off. is it okay if i come over?”

“yeah, sure.” you thank him before hanging up. he tosses his phone to the edge of the bed, contemplating what he has done. never, ever again will he do this and vows to not speak on it. all he can do is to stick being the ‘good friend’ to comfort you through your breakup. he’ll do whatever it takes to prove he’s the better choice. they’ll be the day where you’re all his for the taking.

yukimiya kenyu. body worship, mirror sex, lap dancing, lingerie, riding, sex toys, strip tease, voyeurism

risk is his middle name. not only taking it to become the top striker in japan, but in the context of having strong urges to impale you on him. it’s confined in his pants, just like how his hands are confined to his sides. he’s restricted to ogle at your body clad in lace lingerie, attempting to tempt him to give into his desires with your alluring expressions.

the lingerie surprise tips him over the edge. he follows your fingers running down your breasts to your clit, agonized by the drag of one of them along the lips back and forth. he grips his seat to the point where he can almost break the bones of his hands. oh how badly he wants you, but being the menace you are, you keep insisting to stay patient until the end of your performance.

“mmm, not yet. keep your eyes on me,” you giggle, lifting his chin to face you with your mouth ghosting over his. you’re enjoying the sight way too much, but how can he also feel the same when you’re torturing him with the sway of your hips on his lap, the flex of your muscles when he glances at the many mirrors around him, and the teasing of your bra straps down past your shoulders? and when you also grind on his bulge along with a vibrator plugging in you which is your source of pleasure instead?

as if his body has a mind of its own, he finds himself dancing with you with an arm wrapped around your waist and the other cradling your head, kissing you with his life. then clothes start to fly off left and right. he yanks out your vibrator decorated with your slick and plunges you onto his throbbing cock, having you seated for his part of the performance. oh how the tables have turned; now you’re the one being tortured, pounded with quick upward thrusts from him.

“now for the grand finale.” despite your protests to slow down, he wants to relish your face and body contorting in pleasure through the mirror beside him. a multitude of thrusts later, he reaches his climax and feels your walls clench to make sure you didn’t miss a single drop. it’s a shame that time goes by so fast, because he sure wants to see your body arch for him over and over again.

“you know, it’s rude to stare without saying anything.” loud noises flood his ears. he’s in the mall on a shopping spree with you to help you pick out new clothes to spice up your wardrobe. although when you mean by ‘spice up’, he doesn’t expect to see you in lace lingerie at the fitting rooms. “so, uh… what do you think?”

he has speculations on whether you may have a hidden agenda to seduce him or just trying it out for fun. but all he do is marvel at how the lingerie fits nicely on your body, making you nervous. an idea pops into his head and whispers into the shell of your ear. “not sure. why don’t you buy and put it on tonight for me so i can see it better, hm?”

nagi seishiro. bulge kink, cockwarming, size difference (reader is implied to be smaller), somnophilia, spooning

warm is his favorite sensation when he’s curled up with you in bed. his chest is on your back and his left arm hugs your corresponding side while the other engulfs your right hand. his cock throbs inside you which can be seen poking your stomach, making him curse and groan as he places his hand there. the feeling is delicious, addicting even, and he’s hungry for more.

he pants against your neck as he lazily thrusts against your ass, the outline of the bulge moving up and down from what he can feel on his hand. so good, he chokes out in your ear, followed by a string of fucks and moans. that manages to wake you up, having you grab on the sheets from being overwhelmed by the pleasure from behind.

“sei…” his impatience causes your breath to hitch. at that moment you’re losing your damn mind upon his balls coming into contact with your skin. “fill me up…”

as he shushes you to go back to sleep, he kisses the junction of your neck and shoulder and hooks a leg over your waist for better access to pick up the pace to fulfill your wish. “mm, yeah. gonna make you so warm and full of me.”

“hm, sei?” the morning light seeps through the blinds, spotlighting on you who’s sitting up on his bed stretching. for some reason, you press your butt against his groin which is painfully— oh. “um, did you get hard from sleeping with me last night?”

it’s a dream after all. he throws the blanket over his head and turns away from you, refusing to answer as it’ll be bothersome to explain in detail. you dismiss his silence with ‘okay’ and by telling him you have to go to work. when you reach the edge of the bed, he pins you down with his arm around your waist and drags you closer to him.

“stay with me. just a bit longer.” you cave into his whims, deciding to indulge him during then by pulling your pants down to take his huge length. it somehow knocks you out, and he hopes that you’ll forgive him for making you late. but you’re so warm and so good, just like in his dreams.

vera. ayo, finally i posted something. it’s my first time writing smut and i died inside. as expected: it’s 10% smut, 90% cringe. the top 6 has me in a chokehold and i’m not okay.

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rebeltarot · 2 months

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CAREER ➕ Blessings coming toward you in your career

"I still remember the nights I wished for the things I have now."

[3 piles] ・ [5 decks] ・ [8-10 cards for each pile] ・ [letters, signs, songs]

Hello friends! As we are nearing the end of this quarter I wanted to create a reading all about blessings coming toward you in your career. Please remember that a “blessing” can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. What are your hopes and dreams regarding your career? Do you have any goals you want to achieve in this area this year? Definitely let me know. Regardless of what you are hoping for, I wish you all the best and lots of luck. ♡♡

Painting: Dancers, Pink and Green by Edgar Degas (ca. 1890)

Helpful Links: How to choose your pile ➕ Request a reading

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

PILE 01 ➕

Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

C, A, R, E, E, I, 3rd House, Mercury, Scorpio

Song: Mother's Daughter (R3HAB Remix) - Miley Cyrus

BLESSINGS COMING TOWARD YOU IN YOUR CAREER

Tarot: 5 of cups, 10 of cups, the sun, the devil rx, 9 of pentacles rx

Oracle: the dragon, the king, emotion, imum coeli, moon in leo

Hello, Pile 01, and welcome to your reading. Please remember that a “blessing” can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. With the 5 of cups, it feels like for the longest time you were struggling in your career. This does not necessarily mean that there was no progress, but it was not emotionally fulfilling for you. This could also talk about a lack-mindset in terms of your career, i.e., not feeling worthy of it or not seeing a future with it. Some of you might feel like an imposter in your current position. Yes, you are wearing the title, but you do not feel like you deserve it. This is where your blessing is happening. It's going to address your hustling mentality and your superficiality in your career. It feels like you might have given more than you were able to, pouring from an empty cup just to feel like you deserve to be where you are. Whatever you were doing, it's unsustainable. I feel like you were once very passionate about your current career but fell out of love with it because you were overworking yourself too much, nearly burning out. What I see coming towards you is something that most would consider extremely lucky, as we have the ladybug in the imagery of this card. 10's in tarot talk about an excess of energy; in this case, it's positive energy. Something significant will happen that will indicate the end of one cycle and ring in a new one of abundance and emotional fulfillment. Your cards are not saying what is going to happen, just how it will affect you, and my god, pile 01, you're going to be so happy with this change. The sun is following the 10 of cups. You will experience a lot of success in your career, which will bring you lots of abundance. There is a sense of alignment and harmony. This most likely refers to your mindset. I feel like you are going to check yourself, and seek out an environment that fulfills you. Implementing the changes that need to be made to end this cycle of adversity and struggle. This is truly a positive spread, especially with the devil reversed ending this. You will step into self-empowerment. There is a sense of breaking free from things (be they people, situations, or mindsets) that held you prisoner. I see you freeing yourself from this hustling mindset and stepping into a deeper understanding of your wants and needs. It feels like you will pay attention to more than your salary in whatever you are doing next. You won't just be swayed by a fancy title and a big paycheck; you are digging deeper; you are looking for and finding something that is truly fulfilling. This does not mean that we are talking about a new job here or a new position. Not necessarily. But rather, I see this as you taking on a new perspective and thus realigning yourself with who you are, including your values and your desires. I see you detaching from superficial aspects of your career and digging deeper into what you need to feel fulfilled.

The dragon and the king are both confirming what we have already seen with the devil reversed. You are stepping into your power and taking charge instead of letting superficial aspects control you. It never brought you any satisfaction. I see you taking charge, especially in terms of legalities. Maybe you are renegotiating your contract, or you are signing a new one, but either way, it's all happening because you wish it to happen, meaning you are initiating it and taking charge of it. This pile is mostly about emotional fulfillment and not so much about the superficial aspects of your career, because it feels like the majority of this pile is already well-established in their career. This is a change and a blessing happening at the root of things. It's about values, fulfillment, alignment, and resonance. I feel like you were growing a massive tree on shallow roots, and your blessing is that you are accommodating your tree and allowing it to grow sustainable and strong roots. Again, it's not necessarily a career change; this might only apply to a very small percentage of this group. For most, this talks about working with what you have, not uprooting your career, but nurturing the soil and foundation that you hold. As I have said, for most of you, this is a mindset shift followed by minor changes, maybe in terms of working hours, etc. I feel like you might bring new ideas into your career, expanding what you are already doing and incorporating a more creative element into it. Others might share an idea, be it for a project, etc., which will allow you to turn your dreams into reality. Either way, needs that have not been met before are now being met, and whatever you wish for will find solid footing soon. It will manifest in your life. Fulfillment is coming.

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

PILE 02 ➕

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

O, blank, G, A, K, E, 6th House, Mercury, Gemini

Song: All for us - Labrinth

BLESSINGS COMING TOWARD YOU IN YOUR CAREER

Tarot: the emperor, ace of cups, 2 of wands, king of cups rx

Oracle: trust, healing, midheaven, solar eclipse

Hello, Pile 02, and welcome to your reading. Please remember that a “blessing” can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. It feels like you are feeling overwhelmed, my dear pile 02. When it comes to your career, it seems like you are feeling quite anxious and detached. You might even be withdrawing from it in one way or another. I heard "quiet quitting" while writing this. Whatever the current situation at your work is, it's far from ideal. It feels like you are holding back anger too. This is a very specific thing I see, but I feel like some of you might have felt betrayed. You are not showing it, but you are also not ignoring whatever has happened and led to your feeling of turmoil. You are actively taking away your effort to balance the scales quietly. Again, this might apply to just a handful of you, but the King of Cups, as our bottom deck, is looking upset and vindictive. The good news is that you are taking charge, my dear pile 02. Your blessing is that you take authority over this situation and maneuver whatever has happened that led to you withdrawing from your career into a success story for yourself. It feels like you are taking the cup you are holding, and instead of withholding it from everyone, including yourself, you are pouring your energy and your efforts into yourself. You are "upgrading" yourself, is what I heard. Interesting; this pile is very vocal. So maybe you are speaking up for yourself. Whatever it is, it's been a long time coming, and it relates to something you have held on to for quite some time. Your blessing is that you create stability. A new beginning is awaiting. It can relate to a brand new position, a job at a new company, or even your own business. Whatever the case may be, I see you in a leading position. And you are comfortable there. Maybe the King of Cups, in reverse, talked about suppressing your leadership talent and making you uncomfortable and upset. Either way, this new position of leadership will give you a whole new beginning, especially emotionally. I am hearing "clean slate." This is such a vocal pile! Someone might be giving you their scepter; for some, it might not be a voluntary handoff, but either way, it will be fulfilling for you. I see you climbing the ladder. Whatever your goals are in your career, you are getting closer to them. Plans are being made. For some, it might even relate to a position overseas. For sure, big decisions are made relating to the future. Both for you and for your career.

Trust is your next card. With the King of Cups reversed, this is slow-moving energy. It's not something that happens overnight. Especially since for some of you, the handover is not made willingly (i.e., the person leaving said position does not want to do so). Your guides are asking you to trust the process. Trust that what you are going through is meant to happen and that what is promised to you will happen. You are currently in the healing stages, but your career journey (your negative experience right now) is soon coming to a pinnacle. You are going to reach your goals faster than you might have anticipated. A solar eclipse might be significant. This could be an indicator of timing. Either way, this new beginning, this rebirth of yours, is your blessing, and it will come with a handful of opportunities. I see you regaining your passion and your inspiration, and you will feel at home in this position of leadership that is soon to come.

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

PILE 03 ➕

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

O, B, G, A, 8th house, Uranus, Virgo

Song: Only You - Eddie Benjamin, Alessia Cara

BLESSINGS COMING TOWARD YOU IN YOUR CAREER

Tarot: 6 of wands, wheel of fortune rx, the star, King of swords rx, judgment

Oracle: the wasp, energy, jupiter, lunar eclipse

Hello, Pile 03, and welcome to your reading. Please remember that a “blessing” can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. Wow, this is a pile with a bunch of major arcana. Whatever is happening for you, it sure is significant. Your situation is not easy, and it seems complicated. Interestingly, your tarot cards are telling a story and leading into your blessing. You are someone who is established, successful, highly regarded at work, and known for the great results you bring. Your peers do not doubt your skill set. However, it feels like whenever you hit a goal or whenever you experience a win, the wheel is turning sharply for you. Every hit of luck is met with a hit of misfortune. It does not have to be major, though it feels this way to you. It's something you might already be anticipating. However, your prospects are bright, my dear pile 3. How about a mindset shift? Instead of the bad following the good, how about the good following the bad? It's so interesting, your pile. Your blessing is your faith and your hope. This might sound anticlimactic, but it's the most powerful blessing one can get. Luck is unpredictable and unreliable. But hope and faith in yourself and your abilities? Confidence? That's something that can get you places. It's something that leads to intrinsic motivation and actions being taken. Your hope means pouring into yourself, tending the garden of your soul, and allowing things to sprout and bloom for you. Again, bright prospects for you. You will be blessed with an idea and inspiration. This vision will fertilize your soil, and it will allow you to make your wildest dreams come true. Your pile is so interesting because we have a good card followed by a challenging card, and so on, but eventually, we are ending your spread with a positive one. It's reminding me of a seesaw, and I swear it's giving me whiplash. You might feel this way. Having a bad thing leads to a good thing, and vice versa. But again, your ability to keep your head held high and your ability to still believe is a true blessing in and of itself. I feel like you are lying to yourself with the king of swords in reverse. You might feel like you are crumbling under all this pressure and under all these changes that seem to follow you around, but you are not. You are growing in your power, your ability, and your adaptability because that is the skill set that you need. That's the skillset that will bring you far and eventually to a lot of abundance. Your blessing, ultimately, is a rebirth of the self with the judgment card. You will receive an idea, an epiphany. This will lead to you finding your purpose and a renewal of your career. This seems to be such a common theme across all piles, but to me, in your pile, this sounds like growth. It sounds like a level-up. In your pile, especially, we can see the impact that it will have on your life with those three major Arcana cards. It's the birth of something. This is my entrepreneurial pile. I feel like most people in this pile either run their own business or want to do so at some point. Either way, you are birthing something, and it will lead to you having people against you. It's not an easy journey, but it is very well worth it.

The wasp is confirming the king of swords, Rx, in its message. Someone will not be happy about your wins. Do you know what is so funny in your pile, though? The wasp card is followed by the energy card, which has oranges depicted on it. And you know what repels wasps? You are right about citrus fruits, which oranges are. Your energy, the essence of who you are, is so strong and so powerful that those people just cannot touch you even if they try. Your ability to believe and to push through adversity makes you unstoppable. Whatever path you are choosing to walk, it's less traveled, one that is hard, and that takes a lot of power and will. Not everyone can achieve what you set out to achieve, leading to people envying you. But again, these people are an annoyance at worst; they are unable to touch you or your bag. And abundance is waiting for you, for sure. All your hard work and all the adversities you are facing are eventually there to help you grow and lead you toward success. Yes, it might feel like whiplash sometimes with all those huge wins being met with huge obstacles, but what is waiting for you is unmatched my dear pile three. Eventually, you will get whatever you desire, and then some. For that to happen, you have to go through a transformation, and we all know that growing pains hurt. But you will come out on the other side as a winner. Remember that you are always protected.

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

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saintship · 8 months

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Could I request a fic for konig (and/or anyone in the 141) (whoever you think fits the best).

One where the reader has an eating disorder that she's been hiding for a while and the team is starting to notice.

Eventually they confront her and she tries to defend herself but only makes it worse. Saying stuff like she knows her limits now and explaining how it doesn't really hurt that bad to purge since she figured it out.

Like she's trying to comfort them but is only making it so much worse. I need my angst + comfort

I decided on Ghost because there’s a lot of König’s big ass on my blog

WARNING: potentially triggering content for people suffering from restrictive/bulimic eating disorders

This hits close to home, and v accurate to how a confrontation like this can go, I hope you’re alright ml

You’re not fine - Simon Riley x Reader, 141 & Reader

You had a love-hate relationship with little celebrations like these; you liked talking with everyone, and you also liked that it was held at the base, so you didn’t have to worry yourself watching your back. But with celebrations, there will be alcohol, and then food, and then inebriated recruits spewing whatever comes to their mind. One in particular you were sat near was especially vocal, swinging his glass in arcs as he grumbled on and on. Many of his words were nonsense, their only repercussion being the drunk giggles of his friends.

You sat up a bit straighter when he leaned closer.

“Oi, I hate these, you want it?” He murmured, gesturing to the cherry adorning his drink. You looked away a bit, shaking your head.

“Why? You was eatin’ them before..”

“I had enough.”

He only grinned. “What, you think a cherry will make you fat or something?”

Your silence only amused him more.

“Aw, you starve yourself, lovie?” He laughed loud and bright, like what he’d suggested was the most amusing thing he’d ever thought of. His friends didn’t miss it either, now cooing comments and non-questions in your direction that made your head spin.

It wasn’t until you pushed yourself to your feet and made a break for the door that you clocked the eyes behind Simon’s mask, following you carefully. The embarrassment flashed through your mind, but you continued, leaning against the outside wall where people came to smoke or grope each other in the lamplight. You felt the cherry on your tongue, your stomach beginning to flip before you gathered yourself. You were in control. A sharp pain sliced through your gut. You’d been able to walk the line of hiding your self torture until now; if someone walked up to you, there was no way you’d play it off. You were in control. Everything is under..control.

You thought about going back inside, just eating the stupid cherry and getting rid of it in the common room bathroom. But you were tired, and the only 141 member inside seemed to have a habit of burning holes in your back, so what was the point? Going back to your barracks seemed best. Walking by the front entrance again, Ghost pushed open the door simultaneously.

“Oi.”

You stopped and turned; Ghost rarely incited conversation. He approached you, scanning around the grounds as he walked. He seemed to be searching for the right words, a quiet grunt escaping him before he spoke.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re acting..” he gestured with his hand vaguely, his eyes glowering with suspicion.

“Acting what?”

He dropped his hand. “Off.”

When you didn’t reply, he sighed. “Look, I’m not good with this shit, yeah? If something’s wrong, I’ll only catch it once. So what is it?”

Your heart ached. You wished so badly there was a way to brush him off and reinforce his compassion at the same time. But there wasn’t.

“I’m okay, really.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Sergeant.”

His reply made you blink, but your head still shook for the negative. “I’m fine.”

“You-"

“Goodnight, Ghost.”

Your tone only registered in your mind when you’d walked ten paces away from him. Simon Riley had just mustered up the courage to show a bit of concern, and you’d fucked it up. It would take a miracle for him to show vulnerability like that again. Your exhaustion urged hot tears to run down your cheeks, your skin heating up with shame and embarrassment. You didn’t get a wink of sleep.

The next morning it was pouring rain, and your walk to the med bay left you completely soaked by the time you opened the door to your office. The cold and discomfort of wet clothes were dull in your mind; all that played in your head was the encounter from the night before. The unit was empty other than resident patients, the rest of the staff likely at the mess hall. By noon, you were dry and warm, but every knock at your door made you jump. Just as you tried to convince yourself that you were being paranoid, your pager buzzed. Price’s voice rang clear.

“My office. Now, unless someone’s dying.”

Another day, you would have huffed a small laugh at his bluntness, but now, your anticipation weighed heavy on your chest.

Jogging through the rain again to the main building, scenario after scenario ran through your mind. Ghost outranked you, and you’d brushed him off without a glance behind you. You’d never had a charge of insubordination, ever. You admired and cared for your superiors in a way you hadn’t expected, and with that, there was never a time mouthing off even crossed your mind.

You lowered the hood of your rain jacket carefully as you eased Price’s door open, seeing it was already ajar.

Your heart sank through the floor when you saw Price’s expression, and then further some when you looked around the room. Soap, Gaz.. and Ghost.

“Is this an intervention?”

Your joke was met with a downcast silence, as Price rose from his desk chair. “Sit.”

He walked past you to shut the door gently, leaning on its surface. You obeyed his request, settling into a chair near his desk.

“Sergeant..you know that you’re cared for here, right?”

You blinked, glancing at Gaz and Soap. The two of them were so rarely serious that their concerned expressions were distracting.

“Uh..yes. Yes, sir.” You murmured.

“Since we care for you, we notice when you’re not all there. Isn’t that right?” The squad nodded, and you wished for a sinkhole to pull you into the center of the earth.

“Ghost. Why don’t you explain why we’re here?”

You couldn’t look at him, but you felt his eyes.

“You ran off last night. And I know it wasn’t cause of that daft recruit.”

The wood panels of Price’s floor were faded with a worn path of heavy boots. Gaz stepped a bit closer.

“We just don’t want you to be doing anything that’ll hurt you, love.”

You didn’t look up.

“Why would you think that?”

The sound of shifting weight was all that answered at first. Soap’s gentle voice filled the small space.

“You’re not eating, lass.”

Your eyes finally found their way upward out of surprise. “That’s what this is about?” You look around; no one’s expression had shifted. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve skipped every weigh in the last three months.” Price folded his arms.

“I’m a medic, I was busy! I think I would know if I had a problem.”

“So why do you drink your calories? Why do you work through mealtimes?” Ghost’s tone became a bit firmer.

“We’re just a tad worried-"

“There is nothing to worry about!” You interrupted Soap, making Gaz back up a pace. “I know my limits, I know how to do it right. I don’t need a lot.”

Price’s head tilted. “Sergeant..”

“I know how to do it right.” You repeated, a trembling hang raking through your hair.

“Do what right?” Gaz’s question hung heavy in the air.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore, I-I figured out how to..you know, purge. Correctly.”

“What?” Price pushed off the door, standing closer.

“It’s fine!” Tears pricked at your eyes.

“No, it’s not.” Gaz’s voice was low with emotion, his eyes following you as you got to your feet.

“I’m fucking fine!”

“Sergeant, lower your voice.” Price’s order silenced you, a tear escaping down your face.

“It’s—I have it under control..” your voice wavered.

Soap sighed. “That’s not how it works-"

You wiped your tears angrily, irritating the skin that was already warm with embarrassment.

“What do I have to do to convince you that I am fi-"

Ghost’s arms were around you. The rest of the room was silent. Your eyes were closed. You cried into his vest. He smelled like smoke.

“You’re not fine.” His voice was softer than you’d ever heard it.

“I’m sorry..I’m sorry..”

“Oh, love..” Gaz hand was warm on you shoulder.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Soap assured. Ghost’s gloved palm stroked your back.

A different hand laid on your other shoulder, and you turned you head to see Price lean to your level.

“You’re not alone, soldier.”

That night, the entire team accompanied you to dinner. They made sure to tell you that even if you couldn’t stomach anything, just being there made them proud. Proud that you could face this disease that would follow your every step, and that you trusted them to walk alongside you. Ghost excused himself for a smoke, and you followed him out where he stood in the night air. The cicadas were chittering incessantly, but the breeze was nice. You stood by his side for a few moments before speaking.

“You called the meeting.”

He held his balaclava away from his face slightly with a thumb, exhaling a breath of smoke.

“I did.”

Your heart hammered in your chest.

“Thought you’d be angry with me for brushing you off like that.”

His head shook slowly. “No.” He breathed a sigh of the fresh air. “You’re not the snippy type. Something was off. So I went to the people who deal with that sort of thing better than I can.”

You eyed him. “Why do you always end with that?”

He glanced back, but continued to toe at the gravel.

“What do you mean?”

“You say you’re not good with this sort of thing. But you are.”

His brow furrowed. “M’not.”

“When I walked away from you, you could have just decided I was a dick and moved on, but you didn’t.”

His head shook again. “I had to get backup.”

“You knew who to put in that room.”

“Because I couldn’t do it alone.”

“You hugged me.”

Your shoes turn toward him, the glow of the entrance light glancing off the woven fabric covering his face.

“When I was freaking out, you steadied me. It really helped..” your admission suddenly embarrassed you, and you looked at your feet the moment he brought his eyes forward.

“Doesn’t mean I’m good at this.”

“You’re good to me.”

He blinked. “Am I?”

“You’re good to the team. Good to your trainees.” Looking up into his eyes, the apprehension there was gut wrenching. “I’ll tell you every day if that’s what it takes for you to believe it..”

“Sergeant..”

“It’s true. You make me want to be better.”

Ghost shifted on his feet. “I just want you alive.”

You cracked your first smile in weeks. “You make me want to be that, too.”

He gazed at you a bit longer before outstretching an arm, pulling you into his chest while taking another drag with his other hand. Your smile stayed as you leaned into his coat, the warmth radiating from him making your heart swell. The gratitude you felt that Simon Riley was letting you be so close to him was exhilarating. He rubbed your back as he’d done in the office, but out here, where it was just you, Simon, and the cicadas, it was just better.

#cod requests #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #simon riley x gn reader #simon riley #ghost x gn reader #ghost x reader

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arabaka · 10 months

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ miguel o'hara x spidey!fem!reader. CONTENT WARNINGS: oops, all berries (i.e. angst) no smut but minors/ageless blogs go away. depictions of traumatic events. insinuations of anxiety and ptsd. WORD COUNT: 1.4K PSD CREDIT!!! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ love note from the author: this is PART 2 to PURGATORY but you can read this by itself ig... i'm not your mom ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Okay, let’s actually try to get through this, shall we?

My name is – Actually, not important.

I was bitten by a radioactive spider… But something tells me you already knew that. Wait, how many of these have you sat through? Holy shit– that many?!

But can any of those guys say they’ve been through space and time, universe after universe, only to get stranded in a total vacuum void?

You try to bang your head in exasperation but with nothing to cushion you, you end up pulling enough full-body revolutions to make an Olympic acrobat jealous.

Cut to a stretch of groaning that follows you around like a white flag.

Because it sure as hell feels like it’s high time to give up. He always did say you never knew when to quit. You didn’t see it as a bad thing then but now… With a little zero-gravity perspective…

No, no, no– the last thing you want is to give him the satisfaction of being right.

This phase comes and goes. You call it the I-can’t-not-hate-you-you-sent-me-here-in-the-first-place stage.

Grief is fluid, okay?

You despise it all the same. Because when you’re like this, all you can think about is him. Him and the last time you looked into those jaded crimson eyes.

There’s the silver lining you were looking for when it comes to your multiverse communicator finally giving out.

At least you never have to see how heartbroken he looked ever again, perfectly recreated pixel-by-fucking-pixel.

Now if only your actual memory would degrade the same way.

Because you still see it when you close your eyes, you see it all. The strike of terror flashing like lightning in the reflection of his dilated pupils, having come as a harbinger of a terrible, terrible, irreversible decision. The taut coiling of the fists he keeps at his sides, his claws coming in– not because he can’t help it but because he feels he deserves it.

“Miguel !!!! What the fuck?! How could you do this to me!?” You wail, lungs rotted with rage as you punch haplessly against the cocoon swiftly crystalizing around you. Panicked and like a caged animal, your eyes frantically scour the ceiling for an escape but you can only see your wild desperation repeated back to you in the many rubied eyes of the Going-Home-Machine.

I knew that was a stupid fucking name for you.

You never thought you would be on the other end of this wretched thing, be the little fly caught in its web and when you look at Miguel, eyes wrought with a pain too much for even Spider-Woman to bear, you look pitiful like prey too. Your chest spasms with a choked, “I…” Your fists, weak with emotion, unfurl and give way to open palms. Your breath ragged, when you pick your head back up at Miguel you let him have it.

“I loved you.” You say it with canines bared with poisoned malice, rage finally boiling over into heated rivets of tears down your cheeks.

And Miguel, he’s never looked more destroyed.

You swallow a sob, gulping so hard it rocks your chest. Your bottom lip warbles. You’re not good at this tough guy routine.

You never were.

“You can’t let it get to you.” Miguel’s voice, direct and to the point, precedes him in echoes as he makes his way to the high corner you’ve wedged yourself in.

Angling your body away from him, you avoid your superior’s gaze. Superior, because right now he’s not your boyfriend. He’s your commander.

“You’re terrible at comforting, has anyone ever told you that?” You call back, deadpan tone as good a deterrent as any. You sniffle, your throat clenching when you try to stuff the remainder of your cries down. When you finally wad up all your feelings for later, you turn back to face him with a mock look of happiness on your mask. “Who said I’m letting it get to me? I’m not letting it get to me. Sounds like you’re projecting.”

And because he’s your boss right now, not your lover, he sighs in frustration. “Mierda... I’m trying to help you.” He says with two fingers pinching the skin between his knitted brows after his headgear dematerializes. “You’re going to get burnt out at this rate. You know we can’t save them all. We’ve been through this.”

Your body coils into itself, trying to self soothe but it’s not working. Miguel’s voice starts to fade into the background, the cacophony of architecture collapsing and screaming, my god the screaming, overtaking your everything just then.

“You need to get past this–”

“Fucking hell, Miguel– Could you stop acting like my boss for one fucking minute and just be my boyfriend?!” There’s no denying how savagely ragged the last mission made you now that you’ve ripped your mask off. Your eyes are red and puffy, swollen from the tears you thought were safe to shed. Your lips are littered with little slivers of cuts from biting down too hard when you first tried to keep the devastation from bubbling up to the surface.

His body stills, as does yours.

You’d never seen Miguel cry. Not until that day.

It wasn’t bawling. It wasn’t even whimpering. It was a single drop that ran down one cheek, you saw it for a fleeting second before he rushed over to hug you, his hulking body cradling yours in what you thought was love.

But you’ve realized since then that it wasn’t out of love. It was out of grief. Grief because he had to let you go. You weren’t strong enough for this.

And he wasn’t strong enough to watch you go through it again.

Or so he thought. But no, true agony was watching you now, jailed in a prison of his making.

True agony would be spending a lifetime away from you.

“Stop the machine!” Miguel’s order rasps in his throat, a prominent vein down its column bulging and only worsening when Margo doesn’t move as fast as he would like. Frustrated and scared, Miguel rushes to the maze of computer mainframes, his hands a blur as he hopes just one, any one will abort a process already…

94% of the way in.

“Miguel!” Margo’s voice finally comes into focus, “Miguel, you have to stop– the machine–”

“You can either help me or get out of the way.”

Margo stops but that isn’t good enough either.

Big hands, far too roughly, grab at her shoulders and toss her aside in a frenzy. He can fix this. He can.

“Miguel!”

Even the whites in his eyes are splotched red when he turns back to you but finds you weren’t even looking at him.

Your face to face with a machine on the fritz, the massive technological arachnid drawing too many strands from too many places, mixing timelines to override another– corrupting the chrysalis it had nearly finished making.

“I can fix this, Miguel but you have to– Miguel, stop!” Margo’s screams are devastating, shrill and choked as she tries to remedy the situation but her fingers go limp. Limp because she knows.

There’s no fixing this.

The spider’s arms start jerking sporadically, its long limbs with metal claws ripping the timelines it just crossed. The connected strands start to glitch, the bot’s failsafe commands trying to pull through but it can’t fix what it can’t stop.

You watch in horror, too scared to move much less breathe, as the glowing lines stretch and tear, their dimensions ultimately being warped by…

A black hole.

“Miguel, wait–”

Your hand instinctively reaches out, memories of all the times he’s caught you just like this flashing in your mind like a flipbook animation. Only, he can’t save you this time.

No one can.

Thaaaaattt’s enough emo for one day, I think.

You tuck your knees in, slowly folding into yourself as your spin cycle finally comes to an end. Your chest is wound up tight, your heart drumming so loud you feel it in your eardrums. You just want this to end.

A sob creeps up the column of your throat, your eyes already seared red with the tears you refuse to cry. In a rush of emotions, far too many for you to isolate, you rip off the communicator band around your wrist and send it flying to nowhere.

At least, that’s what should have happened.

Instead, your accessory’s open-ended trajectory, well–

Meets an end.

A black hole appears from what looks like a ripped stitch, its growth unstable and its edges weathered. You have to investigate, it’s the first anomaly you’ve seen in this vapid world and possibly your only way back home.

Home.

You imagine Miguel.

So you dive, not knowing where this will take you but…

The bad thing’s already happened. How much worse can it get?

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara #astv x reader #astv miguel #astv fanfic #miguel angst #miguel o'hara angst #.˚₊ ੈ ʚ 🍰 ɞ ₊˚. ꒰ a little treat for miguel. ꒱

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picsthatmakeyougohmm · 6 months

Note

Hello Dear Friend.

I was in your country in 2019.I have gone through your profile and decided to go straight to the point on why i wholeheartedly contacting you.

My name is Mrs. Marion Gadsby from Thailand,Australian,79years,I have been diagnosed with Esophageal cancer .It has defiled all forms of medical treatment, and right now I have only about a month to live, according to medical experts. I have not particularly lived my life so well, as I never really cared for anyone (not even myself) but my business was my priority.

Though I am a very rich lady, I was never generous, I was always hostile to people and only focused on my business as that was the only thing I cared for. But now I regret all this as I now know that there is more to life than just wanting to have or make all the money in the world.

I Am very sick now and depends on machines to survive which I know one day one minute I will be no more , but before departing I have a fortune I will like to confined your position so that you can use it and do the humanitarian work which I failed to do when I had the grace and the time. I have willed and given to my immediate and extended family members ,but these last funds I would want to be useful to the poor and the needy. I don't trust any of my family members again because I don't think that they will deliver the fortune to the poor and needy. This is the main reason why I contacted you because I believe you will make it happen as I will instruct you in the future when the fortune is in your hands.

I want God to be merciful to me and accept my soul, so I have decided to give alms to charity organizations, as I want this to be one of the last good deeds I do on earth.

I cannot do this myself anymore. I once asked members of my family to close one of my accounts and distribute the money which I have there to charity organizations in Bulgaria and Pakistan, but they refused and kept the money to themselves and used it to buy flashy cars and big houses in the city. Hence, I do not trust them anymore, as they seem not to be content with what I have left for them. The last of my money which no one knows of is the sum of $3,000,000.00( Three Million dollars) my late husband was wealthy as an oil mogul, politician and other businesses, but he died in his private jet crash .WE CAN'T QUESTION GOD.

I will let you have 20% of his funds for your effort and time and the 80% should go to the poor and needy around you, especially those that are in war zones. Treat this message confidentially till it's done. I am waiting for your reply.

Contact me direct for more information. [email protected]

Mrs Marion Gasby. [email protected]

Finally destiny knocked at my door. I'm rich! I don't have to run this blog anymore.

I'll find plenty of big tiddy goth girlfriends with a million dollars

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dontfearrr · 3 months

Text

for my good friend ! this isn’t silly at all i think it’s so endearing :) @legolas-fan-blog

short and sweet as some would say

Lion and the lamb…or fawn?

gif not mine:)

summary: Reader comes across an injured fawn, Legolas is quick to assist his lady.

Pairing: Legolas x f!elf!reader

Warnings: none

Category: fluff

Word count: still working on this💀

—————————-

The crisp air of the morning kisses your pale cheeks, blowing back your long white locks as your eyes fell shut at the content feeling. Though elves weren’t prone to the cold or anything of that matter, it still was nice to experience every now and then. Your bow was in your right grasp while your head was pointed upward to the sky.

That was until you got a feeling that ran through your abdomen all the way up to the tips of your pointed ears. It took you no more than a blink of an eye to nock an arrow. Pointing in the direction of where your nose told you to. You saw nothing, even your elvish eyes couldn’t see anything near or around you.

WHOOSH.

Your eyes widened at the fallen object in between your feet, it was a bright red apple, pierced by an arrow. Your eyebrow lifted in curiosity seeming as it didn’t look like a threat.

“it would seem as if you’ve let your guard down little one!” a familiar and eye rolling voice shouted as his figure hopped branch to branch until he landed in front of you on two feet as if he was a swift cat. You drew your bow back, placing the arrow back into its holster that was latched to your back along with your bow as you crossed your arms.

“Legolas, you should know it is rude to sneak up on a lady.” you spoke to the white haired ellon with amusement laced in your words. He flashed you a playful smile and reached for the arrow that pierced the apple and pulled it free, taking a large bite of the juicy fruit before stretching his arm toward you, offering it.

You took the apple, copying his actions then handed it back, more like pushing it into his chest with fake arrogance. You heard him chuckle behind you, followed by light, nearly silent footsteps of the princling while you continued your walk through the green forrest. You were there out of boredom, wanting to wonder around and find things you could take back home to add to your collection. So far you’ve found a rock in the shape of a star and a perfectly shaped acorn.

“what brings you out here, my lady?” Legolas spoke as he caught up to your side, beaming down at you like a sweet child with his bow in hand still, a habit the young prince has picked up over the many years he’s been alive. “simply boredom. Elrond has been quiet these days so i’ve had much free time on my hands. i come here to collect meaningless trinkets.” you said, glancing up at his smiling figure, returning a smile.

“care for some company? i’ll be as least annoying as i possibly can, my lady” he teased, knowing he knew how to strike a few nerves in you, never upsetting you but as if he was a lost puppy perhaps. He was a good friend of yours, though you cannot deny the small feelings your heart bared for him.

“i’d love some company, however i better not see anymore rogue apples flying my way.” You giggled a little half way through your sentence at his childish manners but it never failed to entertain you, and he knew that. “deal” he never dropped his proud smile as the two of them walked through the soft evergreen.

You two made conversation until your ears perked up at a sound of displease. You laid your arm across Legolas’ chest to halt his movements and he raised an eyebrow in confusion until he too heard what you had. You jogged toward the sound, hopping and swinging on branches to fasten your movements, Legolas followed suit. To your surprise you spotted an injured fawn laid across the forrest floor, blood pouring out of its leg as it cried in agony. Your heart poured into the scene as you carefully approached the gentle creature. You examined the fawn, making sure it had no other injuries.

There was an arrow pierced through its small thigh, it quivered and jerked at the pain. “god damned hunters” you grimaced at the thought of those wretched beings, cursing your beloved woodland.

“Legolas do you still carry those healing herbs on you?” He nodded and swiftly unbuckled his belt that held his leather pouch and handed it to you. He crouched on the other side of the fawn and looked up at you in worry, he knew how much the forrest meant to you, along with everything in it. He would be damned if he were to stop you from doing such. “i’ll break the arrow and carefully remove it, you’ll need to hold the creature down.” Legolas said in a hushed tone, rubbing your arm gently to comfort you, noticing your obvious sadness, your lip beginning to quiver.

You simply nodded and searched through the princes pouch, finding the herb you were needing and laid it out. You bit the bottom of your dark green undershirt, ripping a long piece of it and laying that out as well.

You took a deep breath and ran your hands down the poor creatures torso, putting enough weight to hold it down but not enough to hurt it. Legolas gripped the arrow and snapped it as if it was merely a twig. He slid the arrow out of the wound of the leg and tossed it elsewhere and your eyes squeezed shut, wishing to block out the sounds of the suffering fawn. You then opened your eyes and looked up at Legolas before taking the piece of cloth you ripped from yourself and cleaning up the blood that spilled then taking the healing herbs and took Legolas’ bow from the ground since it was the closest thing and used the end to crush the bright green herb. Once it was a paste you spread it across the wound of the fawn and Legolas held the leg for you so you can tend to the other side as well.

The wound visibly already began healing and you used the same cloth to wrap around the wound to keep it from getting infected. Legolas gave you a smile and helped you clean up the supplies. You stood and whispered a few words in elvish and watched the fawn stand up on its own and run off into the greenery.

Legolas stood next to you and placed a hand on your waist, you jumped in surprise, not ever having been touched in a way by Legolas. “i admire you, little one. you have a good heart.” he looked down at you with his sweet smile. Your eyes lit up in appreciation and it was almost as if you felt yourself blush. Legolas’ eyes visibly widened and his teeth appeared in his smile.

“i may be a fool but i know when someone is flustered.” his thumb ran across your reddened cheek and you huffed. “you’re a good friend Legolas, i don’t think there’s anyone else that would’ve helped me do such a thing. you, my prince, are the one with a good heart.” you said to him and took the hand that occupied your cheek and held it to your mouth, kissing his porcelain fingers.

“well…i smell quite the grapefruit tree near by, shall we?” the tips of his ears heated and he held out his arm for you and you latched onto him, continuing your walk through the forrest with no other than the prince of Mirkwood.

#legolas #legolas greenleaf #lotr elves #lord of the rings #tolkien #lotr fanfic #orlando bloom #legolas thranduilion #legolas x reader #the hobbit #hobbit #elves #tolkien elves #mirkwood #rivendell

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displ3azant · 7 days

Text

(Before cut is In-Character.)

Hiii! Helloooo!

Hello!!!!!! Hehe, thiz iz actually super weird trying to write an intro-- give me a minute.

So, HIII!!!!!!! I'm Unpleasant! That'z not a joke, that iz literally my name. There'z no "deep reason" behind it, it iz literally just what people refer to me az. But, if that'z too weird, I do also go by Unplez or Plez for short.

Uh, pronounz? I don't really care, actually. I don't have a set gender, I've never really met a gradient who doez. That being said, since I started hanging with Infected I have been called he and she specifically a lot... so if it'z easiest for you, just roll with the crowd.

Right, so... the blog. Thatz thiz blog, haha! Well, the easy answer iz I waz super bored, Infected can suck a huge ####, and I like talking about myself! But... I kind of suck at talking in general, so I guess I'll type and answer questionz about myself.

BUT KNOW MY BOUNDARIEZ BEFORE YOU ASK QUESTIONZ! 👇👇👇

(Below cut is Out-Of-Character.)

To those who know me: Good to see you're still stickin' with me! I promise I will make an effort to make this blog much less of a dumpster fire like the last one.

And to those who are only now coming across this blog: Hello! My name is Hex. You don't have to call me "Mod Hex", or anything, just "Hex" will do. I'm the only guy running this thing here. I'll talk more about myself soon, because oversharing is what I do best.

Blog-Context

So, if it wasn't obvious enough from the intro, this is an ask/rp blog for the Unpleasant Gradient from Regretevator, but specifically in the context of the plez-centric au I have created for him. Or, well, the "AU" in question is actually just some freaky amalgamation of all my fucked up headcanons, which means...

I AM NO LONGER DOING DIRECT BLOG ASSOCIATIONS! Really sorry about that, I love my friends with all my heart but if I wanna keep consistency, I'm gonna have to "write the story" on my own. However, I do want to give full credit to my friends @sk8tr1101 and @party-noob for some major concepts involving Unpleasant, especially Audrey who already has some awesome ideas herself. Go check them both out!

MAIN TAGS:

#unpl3zansw3rz - Asks

#unpl3zrambl3z - Non-ask related posts/reblogs

#unpl3zlor3 - Plot points and similar

#ooc - Out-of-character post

OTHER TAGS (to be updated):

(nothing yet, hehe)

Blog-Owner

So hiiii, I'm Hex. If I can be bothered, out-of-character posts will either have the #ooc tag, be in purple text, or be signed off with my name. I'd prefer if you refer to me using he/it pronouns, thnx!

I'd also like you all to keep in mind I am 17 years old, therefore a minor, and even if I wasn't 17 I do not appreciate NSFW/Explicit jokes towards me, ESPECIALLY if you don't know me. It's one thing when you're my very close friends or my partner, it's another thing when you are a stranger on the internet asking me things I should not have to answer.

My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @geometricgiovanni - a Jeremy ask/rp blog set in the same universe as this one! Please note, however, that in the context of this blog, Unpleasant is not aware of the blog nor would he like to be.

Ask/RP-Boundaries

Let's start off by reiterating that I AM NOT OKAY WITH NSFW/EXPLICIT ASKS IN ANY CAPACITY! Sick of getting them, they're repetitive and annoying. Asking safe-for-work questions involving Unpleasant's anatomy is one thing, but I am not responding to ANYTHING involving genetalia.

ALSO! I am very unlikely to respond to things that is either hard to make a unique drawing for or don't progress the story (unlocking "lore" and such). I'm watching your ass, Mango, I know what you like to do (/lh). Joke asks are still okay, you don't *have* to progress story, but please keep in mind my "criteria" for answering asks when sending them. A clean inbox gives me a clear mind. I do not like notifications.

Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, I guess. Not exactly the direction I want to take things, though some storylines will involved implied ships. Don't push anything that isn't hinted at, and under no circumstances encourage proshipping or any kind of illegal pairing. If a ship is hinted toward that you personally do not like, then just block me and move on with your day.

Roleplaying: While I'd prefer to not be in direct contact with other rp blogs, I am totally cool with roleplaying side stories and stuff, interactions and such! Please keep in mind though, Unpleasant in this is not a very social person, so you're probably not going to get the reaction you want.

Also! I think OCs are super cool and am happy to respond/interact with them as well! However,

PLEASE DON'T SEND YOUR GRADIENT OCS TO THIS ACCOUNT IF YOU WANT ME TO DRAW THEM! Please instead send them to @hexational! A lot of people were sending me their Gradient ocs to the previous Unpleasant account, and as much as I love seeing Gradient ocs and Gradient sonas, I'd love to be able to draw them, and if you are just asking an opinion on them and not an in-character ask or a genuine question involving other gradients I'd much prefer you send them to the account previously tagged!

That's pretty much all I can think of! Sorry for the long post, I just have a lot to say hehe

Lots of love, - Hex

#unpl3zansw3rz #unpl3zrambl3z #ic #ooc #ask blog #regretevator unpleasant #regretevator ask blog #regretevator infected #unpleasant gradient

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daizymax · 9 months

Text

a fanciful affair | hjs (m)

summary: your sister is getting married, and you are the maid of honor in the wedding party. to your surprise, the only other person in the wedding party is a previous fling whom you would have rather never encountered again, so maybe it's the “love in the air” that makes you agree to round two.

pairing: jisung x fem reader

genre: some angst, smut

word count: 8.9k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: profanity; alcohol consumption; mentions of sibling favoritism; mentions of societal/parental pressures; some heteronormativity; the wedding takes place in a church but there aren’t any heavy religious elements; pessimistic views towards marriage; jisung and the reader have poor communication at first but eventually they start to get on the right track; graphic sexual content; mentions of (past) casual & drunken sex; some dirty talk; a little bit of foot play; vaginal fingering; oral sex; semi-public sex

author’s note: reuploaded from my old blog and rewritten for stray kids bc i wanted to. i hope you enjoy!

( click here to read on AO3 instead )

---

“I’m on my way right now.”

That part is essentially true.

“Yeah, I’m in the car.”

That part is a downright lie.

“Yes! Stop worrying so much. It's just the rehearsal, isn’t it?”

It takes two heartbeats for you to realize your mistake, at which point your heart practically stops. You close your eyes curse your loose lips. You hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud — it just slipped.

Detonation imminent in three... two... one...

“Just the rehearsal?!” Jihye screeches. “Are you kidding me right now? I mean, yeah, I guess it's just the rehearsal. …For my goddamn wedding! It’s only the practice for the most important event of my life. It needs to be perfect, and my Maid of Honor is probably still at home, probably not even dressed yet, telling me it's just the rehearsal. So typical of you, Y/N. Oh, and for the record, Mom and Dad aren't happy about you not being here yet, either.”

You reopen your eyes just to roll them, then return to fishing your car keys out of your bag.

They may not be happy, but it's not like your parents can be surprised by your tardiness. It’s their younger daughter — the perfect student, the perfect athlete, the perfect musician — who is the stable, reliable one.

Sure, you know for a fact that your mother and father love you. They’d do anything for you, give you anything and everything they can. But you’re also well aware that Jihye’s compliant, placating nature takes a lot less of a toll on them. Your parents must be beyond grateful for her. Their nerves are frayed and frazzled from suffering through your rambunctious “phase” that still hasn’t passed.

Your teenage years can be summed up in a series of jaundiced words, whiny protests, and indignant groans from your side of the ring, and stern lectures tapering off to exhausted sighs from your parents’ end. Whenever your attitude became too much, your mother and father would turn their attention to Jihye. She would present them with yet another trophy or academic achievement to soothe their souls and assure them that they were capable of raising a “successful” human being in the eyes of society.

These days, you are keeping your trend alive and well by refusing to conform to your parents’ expectations of settling down in a monogamous heterosexual relationship for the purpose of “stability” and starting a family of your own. And, just like always, your parents have turned to Jihye for comfort. They are spending a fortune on your baby sister’s wedding, a clear display that they favor the direction her life is going.

But Jihye — like most everyone else in the world — deserves happiness, of course, so why not try to make this special day as perfect as possible for her? If she wants to get married, she is certainly entitled to her dream wedding.

Just shy of four months ago, in a show of sibling camaraderie and familial commitment you knew would please your parents, you had promised to be nothing but supportive of all of your sister’s wedding plans, from the humblest of requests to the most exorbitant demands. Your stamina had kept up fairly well, but you are gradually losing steam as the end draws nearer.

Only a little over twenty-four more hours to go, you remind yourself with dull cheer.

Though, if you’re being completely honest, you aren’t even sure that Jihye getting married is such a good idea. At least not so soon, anyway.

She and her boyfriend (fiancé now, of course) had only been dating for eight months when he proposed. Surely that was not a long enough period of time to truly get to know another person, and you blatantly told her as much. But Jihye was over the moon and she couldn’t — wouldn’t — hear of it. She swore up and down that she knew in her bones Chris is definitely the one, which took you aback. Your sister was never one to be overly romantic. Jihye always, always keeps a calm, disciplined, pragmatic head on her shoulders. So even while you are quite skeptical of her declaration of having found her so-called soul mate, you also trust her judgment. She is the smartest person you know, after all.

Besides, you can’t deny that by the rigid standards of society which your parents hold in such high esteem, Chris is everything a husband “should” be. He is charming, handsome, clever, funny, financially stable, and the epitome of etiquette. And, above all, he seems to make Jihye genuinely happy. He hasn’t changed her, but he does get your uptight, austere little sister to giggle and joke and relax and adore life. You have to admit you’d be hard-pressed to find a better partner for her to spend the rest of her life with.

But do they have to be so hasty about it? And do they have to get married on their one-year-anniversary? It makes you want to gag.

Presently, you collect yourself and say, “I know, honey, I'm sorry. Still trying to get my shit together and act like I’m the older sister here.”

Jihye sighs quietly on the other end of the line. When she speaks again, her voice is much calmer and softer. “I didn’t mean it like—”

“Yeah, I know,” you say. “I'll be there in ten minutes, okay? And for the record, I am dressed.”

She giggles, and you know you’re on your way to being forgiven. “Okay. Drive safely, Y/N. See you soon.”

---

Everyone who arrived at the church on time gives you peculiar looks when you join them inside seventeen minutes later.

It takes a moment for you to realize it is because they all dressed up for the rehearsal while you are still clad in a pair of ripped, black denim shorts and a white tank top with the name of your favorite band advertised across your chest. Evidently the universe decided you just needed something else to mentally kick yourself over today. You only hope that Jihye and your parents will be too absorbed in other, more crucial details to waste energy scolding you.

No such luck.

In a flash, your mother is on you like a vulture to carrion.

“I thought we told you this would be semi-formal!” she whisper-hisses in your ear as she hugs you.

“Hi Mom,” you say with an unapologetic smirk. “Hi Dad.”

“Hi pumpkin, glad you could make it,” says your father. He leans down and pecks the air near your temple.

“Oh look, hon!” your mother exclaims to your father. Something behind you has caught her attention. “That must be Chris’s sister and her two kids. When did they get here? Let’s go say hello...”

As quickly as that, your mother ushers your father away to leave you standing alone, but only for a second.

“There you are!”

Oh no, it’s the Bridezilla! you panic playfully, turning towards the sound. Jihye waves excitedly and hurries towards you with quick and dainty stiletto’d steps. Her fiancé follows her at a much more leisurely pace, hands in his pockets.

Chris catches your gaze and smiles. Then he glances at the back of Jihye’s head, gives a slight shrug of his shoulders, and looks to you again with raised eyebrows as if to fondly say, Yeah, she’s been a little much today, but we love her.

You grin back at him from over your sister’s shoulder as she slams her frame into yours and wraps her arms around your neck affectionately. The scent of her signature shampoo makes you think of home.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you say. “I'm the worst.”

“You are not, don’t say that. It’s fine, Y/N.” She might be reassuring herself more than you, but you’ll take it.

Jihye pulls back and squeezes your bare biceps. Her eyes sweep over your outfit in the same judging manner as your mother’s did, but she manages to hold her tongue. She’s trying to keep it together for the rest of the day.

“I’m just glad you’re here now,” she says instead, smiling warmly. “This should all be really simple. The minister already talked me, Chris, Mom, and Dad through most of it. We just need to ‘act it out.’ If we can just find your partner now, I think we’ll be ready to get started...”

By “partner” you know she means whoever Chris elected as his Best Man, whom you have never met before. His and Jihye’s relationship has been such a whirlwind that you’ve never gotten the chance.

It will just be you and the Best Man in the wedding party, which is one decision of Jihye’s for which you are admittedly thankful. Large wedding parties are typically too ostentatious in your opinion. Though you can’t help but wonder if there would have been more people involved if your sister had only given herself more time to plan.

Jihye peers around with sharp eyes. “Darling, have you seen Jisung?”

Chris also makes a cursory inspection around the place at her request.

“Hmm... Well, I don’t- Ah, here he comes now, sweetheart,” he says with a gesture of his hand somewhere to your left and Jihye’s right. You look to where he is indicating and see a man making his way towards the three of you from between the pews.

The immediate thought that registers in your mind is that he is extremely good-looking. Thick dark hair parted slightly off-center, eyes the color of bitter coffee, wide shoulders. The sleeves of his button-down shirt are rolled up to his elbows, granting a nice view of veined and sinewy forearms. He isn’t especially tall, but his legs are a bit long for his body proportions. His smile is wide but a little nervous for some reason…

… Oh no ...

You’ve seen him somewhere before.

You’ve spoken with him before.

You’ve slept with him before.

And he was one of the worst one-night-stands you have ever had.

It was something around six months ago when you had gone out with a group of friends to one of the city’s hottest night clubs. It was a scene you felt like you were starting to outgrow, to be honest, but your mission success rate had always been one-hundred-percent, and you were in the mood to score that night. The mission was simple: get laid.

It was always easy to find someone to take home or leave with for the night, sometimes scarily so. It was nothing a form-flattering dress, sexy heels, and a boat load of confidence had ever failed to accomplish, in your experience.

It was two shots and half a cocktail into the night when you spotted his friends dragging him to the dance floor. He was laughing, that much was clear. You think you may have even heard the sound of it over the chatter and thumping music. Maybe that was why you continued to watch him.

He was awkward getting started, likely embarrassed, but he was good when he finally let himself go and really dance. His friends were objectively better — their moves were sharper, cleaner — but it was he who held your attention. Even from a distance, you could see his bangs were damp from his exertions and the heat of the suffocating crowd. His face was dewy and glowing. Even while dancing, he didn’t stop laughing and talking with his friends.

“He’s cute,” said one of your girlfriends. “And he looks like he’s having a good time.”

You didn’t need to follow her line of sight to know who she was talking about — you’d already been staring at him for minutes.

It was when you had finally lowered your eyes to the dregs at the bottom of your glass when your friend had leaned in closer and said, “He's looking at you!”

You remember snapping your eyes up to find she was right. The music had changed, and the man didn’t look awkward at all as he stared right back at you. He must have caught you staring.

The events between then and when you entered his apartment were a thrilling mix of drinking, laughter, and shameless flirting. Some memories have been blurred by the shots you consumed, but others you remember vividly. His touch on the small of your back when he ushered you out the door. The heavy cloud of stale smoke in the Uber to his place. The exact angle of the tent in his pants while taking the elevator up to his apartment.

If only the X-rated scenes that transpired after tumbling into his bed were as worthy of such detailed remembrance.

He had been a messy kisser, but that was something easily excused by the healthy stream of alcohol muddying his veins. Unfortunately, it did not help his head skills as you’d hoped it would. His fervent desire to go down on you had initially turned you on greatly, but you soon grew frustrated at the sloppy way his tongue lapped at your folds — never in the right spots, and never with the right consistency. Several times you had climbed close to your climax, only to never quite crest.

Frustrated, you opted for urging him to just fuck you already with the prayer that having him inside of you would be better. And it was better... until he came within five minutes of entering you, pulled out, then slumped to the side.

Unfortunately, he was not the first man you had hooked up with to finish so quickly and leave you unsatisfied, but he was the first one to fall dead asleep within seconds afterward. He didn't even bother to remove the soiled condom from his softening dick first. You also left it right where it was and fled his place as quickly as possible, feeling an odd sense of petty payback while thinking of the gross mess he would have to deal with in the morning.

On your way home, you sulked over the disappointing night that you thought held so much potential. There had been such chemistry between the two of you at first, after all. Sadly, he ended up just being some hot guy you enjoyed flirting with for a couple hours and a pitiful story you could tell your friends about later.

You never expected to see or hear from him again, yet here he is. What a small, funny world.

Except you are far from laughing.

Your heart kicks into overdrive with worry and fear over the impending awkward situation, but you do your best not to let it show on your face. In fact, you resolve not to mention your previous acquaintance with Jisung at all. Definitely not in front of your sister and her fiancé at their wedding rehearsal.

You manage to get your heart rate down to what you estimate to be a smooth one-hundred-ten beats per minute by the time Jisung the Terrible Lay is standing directly in front of you.

“Hi,” he says, still smiling. “I'm Jisung. You must be Jihye’s Maid of Honor?”

Oh, so he’s also going to play dumb. Good.

You nod and introduce yourself (again) while giving his outstretched hand the briefest of shakes.

“So, how do you know Chris?” You mentally applaud yourself for the calm steadiness of your voice.

“Best friends since middle school,” is Jisung’s simple answer.

“I wish you two could have met ahead of time,” Jihye chimes in apologetically. “It would have been nice if you had gotten to know each other at least a little bit before the wedding. I should have made the time for all of us to go out to lunch or something, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s no big deal,” says Jisung. His smiling eyes do not leave yours. “I mean, it’s not like we’re the ones getting married.”

He has the nerve to punctuate his stupid jest with a wink. You pretend to be flustered by forcing out a giggle in harmony with Jihye’s.

Your sister glances back and forth between you and Jisung for a moment, and you can practically see the gears turning in her head. It wouldn’t be a surprise if she took a stab at playing matchmaker at some point today to hook the two of you up.

Already beat you to it, you brood silently.

“Shall we get this show on the road, then?” Chris asks.

“Please,” agrees Jihye. She waves to the minister to signal she is ready, and he nods.

The minister takes his place near the alter and requests that everyone else congregate at the other end of the chapel. Jisung sidles up next to you at a proximity that is a bit too close to just be friendly, but you refuse to acknowledge him by even moving away.

It’s funny how senses work — a whiff of his cologne takes you straight back to that night. Your memory flashes you a vision of you leaning against his arm on wobbly legs, and you suddenly remember the feeling of his warm, slightly callused hands cupping your elbows to steady you. You swear you can even remember the sound of his amused laughter at your inelegant state, and the taste of his beer breath in the air.

You force yourself out of your reverie before you become lost in it.

“It’ll be very simple, everyone,” assures the minister, echoing Jihye’s earlier words. “I think everyone has already been made aware of the seating arrangements, so let’s just get straight into the processional order, and then do a rundown of what the ceremony itself will entail...”

As more instructions are given, Jisung leans into you and murmurs under his breath, “You look nice today.”

A laugh almost escapes you at his unexpected comment. He utters it with the perfect ratio of humor and sincerity.

You manage to play off the smile on your lips by flashing it towards the woman your mother said to be Chris’s sister when you suddenly catch her eye.

“Uh, thanks,” you say to Jisung in an equally hushed tone.

“I mean it,” he insists. “You look every bit as pretty as when I saw you in the club.”

You ignore his compliment and try to move your lips as little as possible as you say, “Can we please not talk about that here?”

Jisung lets out a soft snort of laughter. “Sure, no problem.”

He leaves your side when his turn comes to practice standing behind Chris near the alter, and you follow immediately after to take your place on the opposite side, all too aware of his eyes on you for the remainder of the rehearsal.

---

His eyes are still on you when you take a seat directly across from him at the dinner table.

Jihye, in her mildly Bridezilla-esque way, opted to forgo the big, customary rehearsal dinner with the families in favor of a more intimate meal with just her fiancé, her fiancé’s Best Man, and her Maid of Honor. Your parents were more than a little offended about not being included, and perhaps Chris’s were, too, but who were they to deny a bride’s request on the eve of her wedding day? What they don’t realize is that this is the cordial outing Jihye wished she’d planned for just the four of you months ago. It took everything in you not to roll your eyes when she suggested this arrangement back at the chapel, but you weren’t at liberty to reject her wishes any more than your parents were.

“Ah, I’m so glad we’re doing this now!” Jihye says buoyantly. She even bounces a little in her seat to show how physically overcome with joy she is. She beams back and forth between you, Jisung, Chris, and back to you again. Sometimes you still see your kid sister in her.

“Absolutely,” Chris agrees at once.

“Yeah, this is... lovely,” you decide unenthusiastically. You swivel your eyes back to your menu when your sister shoots you a scolding look that says: Be nice.

“So, have you guys been here before?” Jisung asks the betrothed couple conversationally, waving a hand through the air to show he is talking about the restaurant.

“We came here on our first date, actually,” Jihye answers in a chipper tone. She scrunches her nose at Chris in a cutesy way and proceeds to tell the table all about the memory.

In the spirit of neatly categorizing him back into place amongst your other lousy one-night stands and nothing more, you try not to grant Jisung too much of your attention when you fall into the conversation. It proves to be quite difficult, however. Listening to and observing him in this casual, non-sexually-charged scenario is intriguing. It also brings to mind a thought that had not occurred to you before: Jisung could make a wonderful boyfriend.

You had been so wrapped up in your mission of merely hooking up that night months ago that you never stopped to think about whether or not the person you went home with could be more than a one-night-stand, or could even be dating material.

But Jisung is.

He’s witty but not arrogant. Funny but not obnoxious. Charming but not cheesy. Gorgeous but not conceited. His smile is distracting and compelling. His stories are interesting and comical. His laughter is merry and infectious.

No wonder he’s best friends with perfect-fucking-Chris. But there has to be something wrong with him...

And then you remember there is, in fact, a catch: his bedroom manner.

That thought makes you snort out loud into your drink, and you sweep away the romantic notions clouding your mind.

Some time between dinner and dessert, a local band begins to play music near the dance floor, and Chris whisks a giggling Jihye away from the table. As soon as they are gone, you contemplate making up an excuse to slip out, but Jisung is already speaking to you.

“Good, we’re alone now,” he says.

“Good? How so?” The question spoken with a different tone could sound cute and flirty, but the flat disinterest in your mumbled words is moody and a bit harsh even to your own ears. It doesn’t appear to dampen Jisung’s sunny demeanor, though.

He simply grins and says, “Because now we can talk to each other.”

You shrug your shoulders. “We’ve been talking.”

“Don’t play coy with me, pretty lady,” he says. “You know what I mean. We can talk about the night we met, and why we haven’t met up since.”

You groan and cross your arms over your chest as you lean back in your chair. “I’d really rather not.”

Is he really that clueless? If he truly has no idea what went wrong that night, it is not worth your time explaining it to him. But god damn him for being so handsome and likable otherwise...

“Okay...” Jisung says slowly. “If you don’t want to talk, then how about a dance?”

“What, here? Now? I don't think so.”

“What if I put it this way: we can sit here and talk like adults, or we can dance and I won’t say a word. What do you think?”

The silent dance is definitely the lesser of two evils in your mind, but you are afraid of what other nostalgic feelings could be dredged up while in that intimate situation. Your only real option is to elude the decision he wants you to make.

“You can’t make me do either,” you say.

Jisung’s grin widens. “Is that a challenge? What if I picked you up and carried you to the dance floor?”

You allow yourself a laugh at his joke. “Do you think that would be cute or something? I think everyone else in this restaurant would throw your ass out for trying, especially if I was kicking and screaming the whole way.”

“You wouldn’t dare cause a scene like that, would you?”

“You wouldn't cause a scene like that, would you?” you throw back at him.

“I just might.”

“Do it, then. I dare you.”

The pair of you sit there smirking across the table at each other in a weird sort of stand-off, waiting for the other to make a move. He caves first by breaking the silence.

“Dance with me,” Jisung implores in a soft, honeyed tone. His eyes twinkle brightly. He looks wholly unafraid of being rejected.

God, he really is clueless, isn’t he?

“No, thank you,” you answer shortly, stubbornness getting the better of you.

“Would you dance with me if I was the last man on Earth?”

His follow-up question comes as a surprise. He must be determined to get some sort of positive answer from you tonight.

The best you can do is laugh away the silly question and wish him a good night. When you get up to leave, Jisung offers to at least walk you to your car, and after a moment of hesitation, you agree.

You both say hasty goodbyes to Jihye and Chris on your way out. Jihye pouts a little at your abrupt departure, but she doesn’t complain, and you know it is because she is pleased to see you walking out with Jisung. Everything looks to be going according to plan in her brilliant match-making mind.

When you and Jisung reach your car in the parking lot, you turn to tell him goodbye once again.

“You were really awful in bed,” you find yourself blurting, apparently unable to keep the words bottled a single second longer.

Jisung at least has the decency to flinch at your blunt assessment. The wrinkle of his face is noticeable before he turns his head away and takes a step back from you. You wait for him to retort, but he stays silent.

Unbelievable, you think. He’s not even going to defend himself.

Just as you turn to leave, his fingers close around your wrist. True to the nature of electricity, a spark jolts through you nearly instantaneously. His hold is delicate but it feels as though you are being branded. You whip your head around to regard him curiously.

“Sorry,” he says, letting go of your wrist as quickly as he grabbed it. “Just— please wait. Let me say something. Please.” He emphasizes the pleasantry as if it means all the difference. He takes a deep breath; it goes in shaky and comes out resigned. “I know I was terrible. I could make excuses about being drunk and about you being so fucking pretty that I couldn’t help myself from coming so quickly. Both of which are true, for the record, but they’re shitty excuses and you deserve better because from what I can tell, you’re a pretty great woman. All I can say is that I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Y/N, you don’t even know how sorry I am. And I know you don’t owe me anything, but I would love to have a chance for us to start over.”

At the end of his little speech, he reaches out for your wrist again and gives your hand a little squeeze. It is a soft gesture and over in a flash, but a warm tingle still ripples through your body and doesn’t fade.

You can still feel it on the drive home... in the shower... when you climb into bed.

You can still see his smile reflected in your windshield... against the tiles in your bathroom... in the blackness of your room.

You can still hear his laughter in the lonely car ride... over the drumming of the water in the tub... over the serenade of crickets outside your window.

And you can’t understand why it matters to you so much that he was terrible in bed that one single time.

---

The ceremony went off without a hitch.

The decorated chapel — stuffed with flowers, wreaths, streamers, candles, bows, as well as people donned in silk, lace, velvet, perfume, diamonds, gold and pearls — was a vision worthy of any bridal magazine showcasing the “ideal” wedding. Beyond the floor-length glass windows, the sky was dyed like cotton candy from the fading sunlight. A violinist stood to one side and played light, dreamy tones before and during the processional, then the classic Wedding March for the bride’s entrance.

Jihye played the part of the radiant bride beautifully. Seeing your little sister’s eyes coated in glassy tears as she walked down the aisle on your father’s arm, then hearing the tremble in her normally steady and authoritative voice as she vowed her devotion to another person (all while wearing a several-thousand-dollar dress meant for this one single occasion) was almost enough to make you cry, too.

Several times during the vows, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking across the aisle just to see the beautiful smile on Jisung’s face. It had been there since he met you at the other end of the aisle and presented you with a beautiful, white orchid corsage to match the boutonniere pinned to his lapel. When he slipped it onto your wrist, the touch of his slender fingers started to rekindle the spark the two of you had had months ago.

“You look beautiful,” Jisung had whispered in your ear. “You are beautiful.”

The same could have been said of him in his dapper black tuxedo and bow tie, but you could not locate your voice to tell him as much.

The nervous flutter of your heart was made visibly apparent in the way your fingers trembled when he lifted them to kiss the back of your hand, but Jisung couldn’t take notice because his gaze was fixed on your face, and yours was fixed on his in return. The pools of his eyes were so easy to drown in.

In that moment, immersed in the whimsical atmosphere all around you, you were prepared to give him the answer you couldn’t give him last night when he proposed to starting over. You were ready to tell him you had been foolish for not giving him a second thought all these months, and you would appreciate a do-over very much.

But then Jihye was hissing from somewhere off to the side for Jisung to get moving, and you lost the chance to speak your wishes. Something about the small bounce in Jisung’s gait down the aisle told you he already knew what you had wanted to say, however.

Now, here at the reception, it is time to forget about such sappy things and get drunk.

If only the waiter with the tray of champagne would circle back around so you don’t have to go chasing after him and start up some “alcoholic spinster” rumors for your family to enjoy at your expense.

“Hi!” Jisung appears at your side like a miracle, bearing a knowing grin and two flutes of the same champagne you were just ogling. “You looked like you needed a drink,” he says, letting you lift one from between his fingers.

Your lips are already around the edge of the glass. “Was it that obvious?”

“A little, but hey, who cares? It’s a party.” He pauses for a sip of his own drink, then says, “I liked your Maid of Honor speech, by the way. The story about your little car surfing adventure was hilarious.”

“Oh, thanks,” you giggle. “I’m afraid my parents didn’t find it quite as funny.”

“Well, no, but they wouldn’t, would they?” Jisung laughs. “But they did like the part when you said that Jihye getting married is far braver than all your teenage stunts combined.”

You hum in agreement. “Hm. Yeah. Luckily, they don’t seem to know the difference between bravery and stupidity.”

Jisung’s grin tilts lopsidedly at your comment. “Not a big, uh, proponent of the whole marriage thing, I take it?”

“Nah,” you dismiss at once. “There are billions and billions of people in this world, and folks want to tie themselves to just one with a sheet of paper recognized by the government? To some person they met in a teeny tiny corner of the world without ever having stepped outside of the thirty mile radius they’ve lived in for their entire life?” The bubbly alcohol in your glass sloshes haphazardly as your hands become animated, but you pay it no mind. “And so many marriages just end in divorce anyway, so then people have to go through that whole fuckery. Lose half their money, half their shit. And the things they do get to keep, they have to look at and get a big fat reminder of how they picked it out with their ex-spouse during a time when they thought they were in love. They probably went to the store that day hand-in-hand and had no idea things were going to totally implode spectacularly—”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” Jisung interrupts, laughing loudly. “How drunk are you right now? Maybe I should take that back...”

“I'm not drunk!” you say hotly and a bit too loudly, jerking your glass away even though he isn’t actually reaching for it. A few nearby heads turn in your direction, so you lower your voice and grit, “I’m not drunk.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” The expression on his face does not look particularly sorry. “Can I ask you something else without you going off on a rant?”

You deflate with a sigh, calming yourself before saying, “Sure, what is it?”

“Dance with me?”

You force the corners of your mouth down a bit to prevent your smile from growing too wide at the sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

“Sure.”

He does take your drink now, setting it aside with his before taking your hand next.

If people are watching the two of you when you step onto the dance floor together, you are oblivious. The only thing you can focus on is the warmth of Jisung’s other hand radiating through your dress from its place on the small of your back when he pulls you in close, and the solid plane of his chest heating you from the front. You absently wonder if he can feel your heart racing. You think maybe you can feel his.

“I haven’t looked around in a minute,” Jisung says quietly when you both settle into the soft rhythm of the music and begin gently rotating. “But am I suddenly the last man on Earth?”

An ungraceful bark of laughter pops out of your mouth. Too late, you cover your lips with your fingers, but Jisung does not accept the movement of your hand. He reaches and brings it back to his shoulder, then gives it a few pats as if to embed it firmly into place.

“You’re not the last man on Earth,” you admit without looking at him.

“So you want to dance with me?” he presses, playfully ducking his face into your view to force your eyes on him.

You exhale a softer laugh. “I do.”

“Funny. Your sister said those exact same words a little while ago.”

“So did your best friend.”

Jisung curls his lips down and protrudes his chin thoughtfully. “I guess that makes them both stupid.”

“Or brave,” you argue matter-of-factly.

“Yeah. Or brave.”

A few silent twirls go by before he speaks up again.

“I have another question,” he begins slowly, then goes quiet for long enough that you eventually look at him questioningly. The resident smile is gone from his face because his lips are pressed together rather seriously.

“What’s your question, Jisung?”

He parts his tight lips and whispers, “If I were to kiss you right now, would you consider it brave or stupid of me?”

If he could not adequately feel your heartbeat a moment ago, he certainly should be able to now.

You take a moment to consider your words. “Neither,” you finally decide. “I’d consider it cliché.”

“Ah. Well, what do you think about cliché, then?”

You swallow hard. “I think I can handle it.”

To put that statement to the test, Jisung suddenly dips you backwards, and you squeak in surprise. He keeps his eyes locked on yours while waiting to see if you will protest. After a long enough moment of receiving no resistance, he leans in after you and matches his grinning lips to yours.

Several whistles and cat calls ring out all around you. The supportive sounds encourage Jisung to lift you back upright and continue the kiss ardently, which you reciprocate in full. Instead of simply enjoying it, your brain chooses to analyze the kiss and how much it differs from the last time you did this with him — in a good way. Either he has been practicing or alcohol completely abolishes all sense of his coordination.

With that thought, you start to laugh until you are unable to maintain contact with his lips. Jisung celebrates your laughter by beaming and squeezing you tightly.

The audience of people crowded around begins to applaud at the endearing display. Even the bride and groom — the people who should be the sole center of attention all night — are standing on the sidelines clapping their approval. It’s as if none of them have ever witnessed two people kissing before.

Then you see the unmistakably hopeful look on your parents’ faces, and it dawns on you that they are excited by the prospect of you entering an actual relationship with someone. You know how their minds work. No doubt they are already going so far as marrying you off to Jisung despite the fact that he is essentially a stranger to them — and to you.

Those bothersome thoughts threaten to spoil your cheerful mood, but Jisung reels you back in by pecking your mouth chastely. It feels like the punctuation to an unspoken agreement to a new start.

You gift him with a flattered smile and allow him to lead you back into another dance, and everyone else resumes their own business.

The fast pace of the next song immediately reminds you of the infamous night that has been on your mind ever since Jisung reappeared in your life yesterday. The way his eyes are following the motion of your hips tells you that he is remembering, too. With just a few well-timed shakes and some not-so-accidental brushes, things quickly alter from sweet and charming to hot and tense.

Jisung brings his lips to the edge of your cheek and whispers towards your earlobe, “You’re giving me some dangerous thoughts right now, baby.”

Boldly, you entreat, “Tell me.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth. “I’m thinking about asking if you want to get out of here, but I don’t think I should.”

The scent of his cologne tinged with just a hint of sweat is positively intoxicating. The tips of his fingers grazing along your hips makes you lightheaded in the best possible way.

“Why not?” you ask.

“Well, you see, the last time I left with you like that, I screwed up and didn’t see you for six months,” he tells you. The smile on his face is a bit forlorn. “I don’t want to make the mistake of sleeping with you too soon again. I want this new start to be perfect.”

His words are wise. You put your hormones on pause for a moment and envision yourself going on sweet dates with him in all the usual places — to the beach, to an amusement park, to his favorite café — before one night the two of you finally make love to each other in a perfectly romantic setting.

As darling as all of that would be, you have no patience for it now. There will be plenty of time for those fanciful scenarios later. Or at least, that’s what you’re planning on.

“The problem wasn’t us sleeping together too soon,” you explain. “The problem was that you were bad.” You pinch his earlobe to let him know you mean what you say, but in a playful manner.

Jisung snorts and shakes his head away from your fingers. He seems unwilling to say more on the matter, so you have to continue and make your desires known.

“Jisung, I’ve been waiting for months to get laid at this reception, and you’re the only one here I’m interested in following through with now,” you level seriously. “Besides, if we’re starting over, I need to know that the first time was a fluke.”

“It was a fluke,” he insists.

You press your lips to the shell of his ear. “So prove it.”

When you pull back, there is still a somewhat hesitant expression on Jisung’s face, but the desire in his eyes is growing; the brown that used to be there is being swallowed by black lust. His gentlemanly resolve is crumbling.

“Can the Best Man and the Maid of Honor even leave the reception?” he worries, still clinging to his better judgment.

Good question. Honestly, you have no idea what the standard protocol is for the wedding party’s attendance after the ceremony is finished and the obligatory speeches have already been made at the reception.

You contemplate just going to Jihye and telling her outright that you and Jisung are leaving. Certainly she has no further need for you to be here. But then again, there is probably something more you are supposed to be doing for her. Helping with the gifts or cleaning up the mess afterward, perhaps. But didn’t she hire a crew for that? You can’t remember. In any case, you can hear her incredulous tone now, scolding you for wanting to duck out early on her big night just to hook up with Jisung — even though she wants you two to become a thing.

You gaze around and spot your sister sitting beside her new husband at their specially reserved table, feeding him a bite from her fork and laughing. She seems distracted enough for the moment.

“We don’t have to leave. We just have to be quick,” you say, taking Jisung’s hand and tugging determinedly. “Come on.”

You half expect him to remain rooted in place and hiss another anxious remark at you, but he comes along willingly. The things you assume of him never go as expected; you should probably stop assuming things altogether.

Without stopping to survey the curious looks that you know are being shot in your direction — because it is clear that you are moving with a purpose and Jisung is along for the ride — you lead Jisung straight to a side room containing the gifts you were just wondering about and shut the door behind you. Not a second is spared before you grab the flaps of Jisung’s tuxedo jacket to pull him in for a more heated kiss.

“This is crazy,” he laughs after you release his lips again with a wet suction noise.

It is crazy, but it is also too thrilling to stop.

“Well, it wouldn’t be my sister’s wedding reception if I didn’t try to cause some sort of scandal,” you joke off-handedly.

“You mean your speech wasn’t inappropriate enou- hnghh, holy shit.” Jisung’s laughter dries up when he witnesses you sliding your panties off from beneath your dress. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps.

With a smirk, you say, “Come on, we have to be quick, remember?”

Your fingers work quickly at unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. Your hand slides past the band of his underwear to find him not very hard, but not completely soft, either. His breath hitches at your touch.

“Ffffuck,” Jisung breathes. “You really want it, don’t you?”

You grin wickedly. “Mhm. Really want to be fucked the way I should have been months ago.”

You give his cock a squeeze, earning a full moan from him. You rub him up and down as best as you can from the angle permitted by the confines of his clothing. His cock stiffens rapidly and a lustful sigh overflows from his mouth.

With a few quick shifts and yanks, you guide his erection out of his pants and boxers and drop to your knees in front of it. You don’t remember it being quite this thick, but you’re pleased. It looks so delicious. The head is ruby red, and the vein curving around the smooth underside looks fit to burst.

Jisung gasps at the first kittenish lick you draw on the slit of his cock. One of his hands comes down to hold the side of your face. You peer up at him through your lashes and smile as you press the head of his cock against the tip of your tongue. He groans lowly in his chest at the sight.

“We don’t have much time,” he tells you as though you haven’t already told him as much. His voice is already getting husky. “So we’d better make the most of it.”

Unexpectedly, he curls his hands around your arms and pulls you back up to your feet. The action utterly confuses you. No man you have ever been with has ever stopped a blowjob before it has even started, and there is no way he could have misinterpreted your intentions. Is he afraid of coming too soon again? That’s certainly a likely possibility.

Before you can question him, Jisung takes the back of your head and brings you in so he can slant his mouth over yours. The force with which he crashes into you is enough to bruise your delicate lips, but oddly enough, you don’t mind. The sincere passion he is pouring into the kiss is burning you from the inside out. He moves to assault your neck next, freeing you to speak.

“Jisung, what—” You clear the rasp in your voice and start again. “Why did you stop me? I wanted to—”

He interrupts you with a moan that rattles against your collarbone. “I know, baby. As much as I would love to have your lips around my dick, the point of this is to make you feel good right now. We can worry about me later.”

He breaks away from your skin to glance around the room. There isn’t exactly a four-poster bed in the vicinity, so he decides the best option is to sit you down in a small chair. Either that or the gift table, but that feels like it would be a bit too disrespectful to Jihye and Chris.

Jisung kneels in front of you and removes your heels carefully as you take a seat. His thumbs rub gentle circles into your smooth skin as he shuffles closer to you on his knees and leans in to peck your lips twice. His touch is sweet and relaxing, letting you know without words that he is going to take good care of you. The anticipation is nearly overwhelming.

Soon, Jisung’s fingers trail upwards, following the muscled lines of your calves under the skirt of your dress. You swiftly drag the expensive fabric up over your thighs to give him unfettered access. He grins at you then looks down at the view you have so generously granted him. His hands creep higher and higher on your legs until he is tantalizingly close to where you need him most.

“Jisung, we can’t take too long,” you remind him impatiently. The whine in your tone is apparent, but you don’t care.

“I know, baby,” he says again. One of his index fingers skims just over the lips of your pussy. “Indulge me for just a minute, please.”

He distracts you with another kiss, and you meet his probing tongue with a whimper of need. Since using words isn’t an option at the moment, you try to convey in other ways how much you need him right now. You pull on his arms and at his hair. Your feet glide along his legs and he opens them wider. When your toes bump against his cock still standing out from his pants, he groans loudly against your mouth, and you can tell it is not out of pain. He likes it. Emboldened by his reaction, you press the ball of your foot directly against his cockhead with a bit more pressure.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he pants against your chin. “I bet you’re good with your feet.”

Honestly, you have never tried serious foot play, but he sounds turned on enough to make you want to try.

“Maybe you’ll find out,” you tease with a giggle. “Right now I want you to prove you’re good with your fingers.”

“You got it, baby.”

He finally pushes a thick finger between your folds and curls it, beckoning a gasp into your lungs. Your hips automatically jerk forward to seek more friction. Jisung obliges your body language and buries a second finger deep inside your walls alongside the first.

“Shit. Your pussy is even tighter than I remember.”

“Have you thought about my pussy a lot these past six months?”

“Absolutely,” Jisung admits freely, and you have no reply for his honesty because you were not expecting it.

He draws his fingers out to just the tips, then plunges them back inside without delay. He repeats the motion again and again, gradually increasing the pace. The sounds coming from your core are sticky and obscene. Your eyes roll back in your head, and your head falls back as well.

“Fuck, just like that,” you urge breathlessly. “Touch my clit, too, please. I need more.”

Jisung lets out a hungry moan. Instead of using his thumb like you figured he would, he bends forward to brush his tongue against your swollen bud. Your thighs twitch reflexively at the sudden contact on your most sensitive area, ready to either snap against his head to stop him or fall away even further to invite him in. They decide on the latter.

A whimper squeezes out of you, along with a string of barely coherent encouragements.

“Oh God, J-Jisung. Yes, yes, y-yes! Like that. Don’t stop. F-Fingers a little s-slower. Tongue faster. Please. Oh f-fuck, yes!”

He redistributes his weight on his knees to get comfortable between your legs, then hastens to follow your commands. His tongue sharpens and digs relentlessly into your clit. The points of his fingers graze against your g-spot with each deliberate stroke, and that’s when you twist your fingers in his hair.

“God d-damn it, Jisung,” you moan. Your body starts to writhe uncontrollably, trying to ride his face to your finish.

“Yes, baby,” he coos sweetly, face still planted firmly against you. The vibrations of his voice tickle your clit gloriously, and you can feel his grin against your hot skin. “You taste like fucking heaven. Is this good? Does it feel good?”

“Yes, fuck, oh, fuck, k-keep going.”

He hums and continues with renewed vigor.

Every time his fingers drag backwards from your pussy, you suck them right back in with a tight squeeze. His lips wrap around your clit and his tongue slips under the hood. The ministrations on your raw bundle of nerves drive you straight to the edge of madness.

Your fingers curl against Jisung’s warm scalp. Your toes curl against the cold tile floor. Your back stiffens to keep your center firmly locked against Jisung’s face. Your breath hangs suspended in your chest for a long moment...

...then suddenly you’re exhaling it with an expletive cry of satisfaction when you tumble over that blissful edge. Spasms wrack through your body repeatedly as it struggles to harbor the intense pleasure crashing over you.

Somewhere in your electrified mind, you are aware of Jisung’s other hand on one of your hips, trying to pin you back down to the chair. You let go of him and move back quickly when you realize you must be suffocating him, and his fingers slip from you in the process with one last parting squelch. When you look down at him, you can clearly see the glisten of your juices slathered over his nose and chin and mouth.

His grinning mouth.

“I think you enjoyed that, baby,” he comments proudly, “considering I just about drowned just now.”

You huff out a laugh and shake your fuzzy head. “Fucking hell, Jisung. Why the fuck couldn’t you have been that good the first time?”

“I wish I could have been. Then I would’ve been doing this with you this whole time.”

“Oh, you think so? You think we would’ve stayed together up to now?” You grin at him and push your toes against his shoulder playfully.

He doesn’t answer you right away. First, he takes your foot and brings it up to his sticky lips to kiss the pads of your toes gently, one by one. Your smile falters when your mouth droops open at the strangely erotic sight, but his smile only widens.

“Yeah, that’s what I think, pretty lady.”

His presumptuous yet sweet admission leaves you speechless. All you can do is tug him towards you to kiss him with newfound admiration, heedless of the mess still glued to his lips. Truthfully, you relish the taste of yourself on him; you think of it as proof of the capabilities you thought he lacked, and you have never been happier to stand corrected.

Jisung is the one to break away first, still smiling. “Can I have one more dance before I take you out of here to make you come some more? Preferably on my dick this time?”

The bizarre combination of endearing and lewd words makes you laugh heartily. What a surprising man he has turned out to be.

“Absolutely.”

---

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dunefeather · 2 years

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His (18+)

Dark!Paul Atreides x F!Reader

Content: smut, dubcon (Voice used), dark!Paul, naive!reader, Dom!Paul, possessive!Paul, manipulation, toxic relationship, unprotected sex, mutual pining, fluff, angst.

Anyone else would look pathetic being so clumsy and terrified of everything but for Paul you are pretty enough to be considered as cute. Himself thinks the Voice remains rather difficult to master but you don't do yourself any favor.

"Try again." His mother tells you from across the table. "Tone. Inflexion. Pronunciation. Conviction."

Lady Jessica does her best not to show her frustration at your series of failures but it's obvious to the young Atreides that you can still feel it in her aura.

The long sleeves of your grey dress got folded under the pressure of your nervous fingers playing with them. Your eyes full of tears are directed to the piece of cereal bread right before his mother. The corner of your lips moves nervously to keep your sobs at bay.

"T-Take..."

"Not like that. And your gaze." Jessica half-sings to hide her anger. "It's over for today. We'll try again tomorrow."

Despite the gentle hand pressing your shoulder as a sign of encouragement you sit deeper in your chair, refusing to look at her in the eyes.

It's unbelievable how sweet you can act even while sobbing like you are, your elbows resting on the table. You would be so easy to make his, but it wouldn't be pleasing. Too simple.

"Please don't be angry at Mother. She tries her best."

"I know but... how can I accept to use that power on... on living beings ?" You whine before wiping your wet face with your shaky hands. "It's monstrous. I already feel bad enough when a dog stares at someone to get a bit of food, I won't even be able to look at people in the eyes because I would have made them do something horrible."

That's your main flaw. Too weak and sensitive but for some reason he finds it hot. Unable to live with that overwhelming pressure of that reality, the one where any hesitation could cost your life.

"But one day it could save you." He argues softly as he sits next to you. "You know with all those assassination attempts, conspiracies, mentally unstable political opponents..."

"Oh no I wasn't even thinking about all of them oh no not that."

"The training only consists in using it for simple things. What was wrong with telling her to give you bread, or water ?"

"Paul... it's manipulating one's mind. That's unbelievable." You whisper.

He hums and nods. He still doesn't understand your point but it's not today with such stress level that you are going to accept the facts.

"So... do you want me to ask something to the cook to get you some good supper ?" He asks as he takes your wrist in his thing fingers.

You let a shaky sigh out, shy eyes crossing his as his confidence skyrockets. It's clear for him to see through your behavior towards him. So sweet. So innocent and genuine. Finally someone normal and spontaneous there.

"I-I don't know Paul but thank you for asking. I'm not hungry anymore. I'm sorry for being such a disappointment."

"Don't worry about its the beginning is always a bit rough." He chuckles as he rubs up your forearm, witnessing you melt as his hand starts to get under your sleeve. "I know you well. If you can't then you can't. It's only a matter of time before you get comfortable with that idea. It's a gift."

"Ok."

He smiles at your timid response as you look down at his hand disappeared under your sleeve. You want more and see his signals.

"I have to go." He says as he stands up, abandoning your soft skin and your sad face. "I'm expected to join my quarters soon. New lessons." He adds with a pouting face.

"Oh. I see." You mumble before walking up to him eagerly. "I'm happy for you to have so much opportunities to learn and not to get stuck on the same stuff all the time. You are going to be a great Duke."

"Thank you. And despite what you might think you are going to be a great Countess, or Baroness or Duchess."

He meant it in a flattering way, but he knows something is off as you keep walking silently in the desert hallway.

"Actually Paul... it's what is stressing me out. I'm a walking undesired mess. I'm too clumsy and shy to get anything right. I should be a peasant. Not training for the Bene Gesserit. Technically I shouldn't even talk to you with respect or anything. You are a male so you should be weaker than us. Yet I'm here seeking for help from someone who I should consider as miserable compared to myself. Please don't take it as an insult, it's our order that... well I guess you know what I mean, you're clever after all. But it's not how I'm going to find a husband."

"I wouldn't have thought that would be a priority for you."

"I'm following this training and I'm going to marry a noble man. A bit like..."

Paul stops dead in his track, not even smiling as he watches you walking and talking with your head lowered to your feet. His fists are clenched, as well as his teeth. They are planning to marry you ? And he was not even aware of it ?

"Come back here."

You obey blindly, just as weak as anyone else to that power he is starting to master. Your footsteps are quicker and confident than usual, your eyes empty.

"Listen to me." He adds as he takes your head in his hands. "You deserve better. Keep that in mind."

You nod again and Paul feels a burning euphoria threatening his reason. He is gifted.

"Tell me you're beautiful."

"I am beautiful."

He rubs your cheekbones with his thumbs, and right as you come back to your senses with that worried light in your eyes...

"Say it again."

"I am beautiful.

"Repeat."

"I am beautiful."

He stops by biting his tongue as he already feels tipsy with such simple yet unnerving power he has on you. It would be so easy.

You blink and step back from him, your breath high-pitched and all too fast.

"Paul it's n-not good it's... it's nice of you b-but really I don't t-think... that's not a good id-idea."

You are melting on your feet right before him as your fear turns into flattered grimaces. It'd be so easy to make you his. You. An Atreides. His Duchess. His Lady.

"I'm trying to help you." He insists with his arms crossed. "You have to confront the world around you. Keep an open eye on everything instead of looking away. It's not like that that your enemies are going to disappear."

"But I'm going to have my husband." You squeal. "I'll get protection from the guards and..."

"That is not how a Bene Gesserit would think." He argues back as he steps towards you. "Show me your strength. Show it to me."

"I have none Paul please you're scaring me..." you whisper while looking around you.

"I am trying to help you." He reminds you softly. "My mother is a powerful woman. You can trust her. Why would you be afraid of me ? You should be afraid of the outside world."

"I'm already afraid of that thank you." You mumble pitifully before closing your eyes as your back reaches a wall.

"Look at me. Keep your eyes on me."

It's infuriating how much you treat yourself like you are nothing. If only you knew how much he cares about you he wouldn't have to try to protect you. Is he going to cross that dangerous line ? It's wrong.

Your empty eyes remain on his for a while before you close them again, swallowing hard as he caresses your cheeks with his folded fingers.

"You're beautiful." He whispers as he admires your features. "So delicate."

The moment his fingers reaches your throat he notices your strong pulse below. Poor little thing. He really should make you understand that once his, you would take have to fear anything nor anyone.

"May I ?" He asks.

Behind his curls falling on his forehead he watches you nodding, eyes half-closed. Is this arousal or anxiety ? Who cares.

His fingers linger on your dress covering you completely from throat to toe. Especially on where a cleavage would be. He likes to feel that firm flesh underneath. With his height it would be easy for him to see some breasts without you noticing it.

"Paul... it's for.. uh... my husband. I have to r-remain pure for my husband."

"I'm going to be your husband."

No sound leaves your lips to form that "what" you were about to say, instead they get pressed against his. Finally he gets you resisting a bit and showing some bravery. Finally. He looks down at you as you gasp for air, your horrified eyes turned to your hands that clenched on his jacket to maintain some distance between you.

"Paul you're not going to.."

"Listen to me."

Once he has your fully artificial attention he kisses you again, moaning against your lips as his tongue plays with your unanimated one. It feels good to have you as his. He definitely should make you his.

"I'm going to marry you."

"Are you ?" You ask shyly.

You're falling, all too confused to resist.

"I am. I am."

"But Jessica never told..."

"Why do you think she is the one educating you, in the heart of this House ?" Paul lies with a huge comforting smile as his mind starts to wander in some decadent place. "They wouldn't have sent you there."

He kisses you again and this time you mirror him although with nothing similar to his own passion. You squeal as his hands grab your buttocks, his kiss deepening at the pain he feels when you press harder against the wall. They want you to remain chaste but he has other plans for his girl. He may have never done it before but it doesn't mean he doesn't know the theory.

"Go to my room."

You obey, blinking and confused once in front of his bed. After this he doesn't lose much time as he embraces you from behind, his hands rubbing your thighs through your dress as he whispers to your ear.

"My lovely future wife." He says before kissing your burning cheek. "So beautiful and hot like that."

"Am... am I ?" You ask.

He got you. That edge in your voice, that's begging.

"Oh yes you are. Such a magnificent future Duchess."

He does his best to keep his voice as seductive as possible but his shaft is throbbing against his pants. He presses you harder against you, dry humping your buttocks gently as he listens to your breathless sighs.

"Do you think that any girl can drive me crazy like this ? An Atreides ?"

"No... No I don't think so..." You moan as he kisses your throat eagerly. "Fuck Paul stop it's getting too much..."

"But that..." he emphasizes his word with a more insisting grind from his hips, "that was not too much ?"

"I-I don't know..."

"Are you aroused ?"

You don't say it immediately but he feels lightheaded as you move your hips back to add pressure to his needy crotch.

"I am aroused." You whisper.

"Louder."

"I am aroused." You squeal.

"Take that off."

That formidable power he has over you is the most delightful thing he got to experience in his life. He watches your back now bare to him if not for your bra, and himself losses his belt at your curves still covered partially by white panties.

"Remove the rest." He commands as is palm massages the bump in his pants.

Shoes gone, socks gone. Panties gone. Bra gone. Your nudity is pure. So pure he could come right there. He could ejaculate right there on your bare asscheeks on on your legs. He'd love to cover you with his seed, all this seed he wasted in his hands throughout the months just by thinking about you as his Duchess kneeling for her Duke. His beloved Duchess using her own Voice for dubious things in bed.

You are back at yourself as you hide the front with your arms, but he smiles. It's cute but crossing your legs like that only spreads your asscheeks a little.

"You're magnificent like this. Don't you know that ?"

"Thank you but I'm not."

"If I were you I'd touch myself every night while looking at my own reflection. Turn around."

He definitely could come right there. Your perked nipples are better than in his fantasies. Not too big, not too small. Exactly what he likes as he takes them in his hands. No wonder why there are so many naked statues of women everywhere.

You moan as he starts to suck on your perked nipple, his smile hard to repress as you hide your face behind your hands.

"Oh no it's embarrassing." You moan as his tongue circles your left nipple. "Oh no... I shouldn't. It's too... too soon."

His hands grab your bare buttocks as he keeps harassing that same nipple over and over, his lips closing on your firm flesh. He's obsessed now. He is going to marry you and give you so many heirs. He's gonna try every night while making you scream of pleasure like you are some desperate whore taken off the street trying to arouse the whole district. He's going to make you yours more and more at every hips thrusts.

"Paul... Paul... I..."

For a second he thinks he hurt you somehow but your silent and ashamed orgasm only makes you hotter. So many possibilities to make his future wife come.

"Lie down on my bed."

You do as instructed, your shaky legs carrying you and he stands there, right in front of you as he removes his clothes slowly, his chest rising fast.

"Spread your legs."

You obey, revealing the wet part as you fold your leg. It's dripping onto his own blanket.

"Touch yourself."

He stops lowering his black boxer to watch your fingers playing with your own body. His own erection is almost painful now, pulsating under his gaze. It never happened before and after tossing his boxer away he doesn't waste his time more than that to join you.

The Voice loses its effect on you at the moment the Atreides positions himself between your legs, his eyes half-closed like drunk as he witnesses your ashamed face.

"You're beautiful. Don't be shy honey. Don't be shy." He whispers as he caresses your bare leg. "My lovely future Duchess. Please look at me."

No order there, but you do as intimated, you face still hidden behind your hands. He clenches his teeth as he watches his shaft sliding inside you, a moan escaping him, followed by another as he feels you clenching around him. There is some resistance.

"I love you beautiful. It's going to be alright." He moans with his eyes lowered to your connected intimacy.

He doesn't want to hurt you or even injure you. It's none of his plan. He wants to make you fall in love with the best sex any man could offer you.

"Paul please be gentle. Please I..." You articulate breathlessly. "Please kiss me."

He connects your lips, his tongue quick to find yours. Your arms and soft skin swallows the top of his body completely. And with a smooth hip thrust, he finally gets where he wanted to go.

He moans against your neck as your nails scratch his back, your legs agitated like the ones of a bug struggling to get back on its feet.

It's going to be alright he whispers as he looks down at you, his mind shut to the outside world. He feels great. You're tight, warm, wet, naked. Perfect. He can run his fingers through your hair, calm you down with open-mouthed kisses, you are convinced you are going to marry him. Even better. You moan between kisses. You're hot. Really hot. He is definitely going to convince his parents to marry you. Oh yes he is going to do that. He wants you everyday. He wants to take you every morning, every night.

Your first name escapes his lips as he feels you close. He loves this intimacy with your obvious stress as he caresses your naked breasts and kisses your chin. Fortunately he "I love you"s manage to make you enjoy this time together. And by the Gods, how much he loves you.

He smiles widely once his face hidden in your hair, your delighted moan muffled against his neck as he thrusts inside you once more. Then another time, and the next one is the last one before he feels himself too far gone to worry about the world. It's so satisfying for him to know you got his seed and loves what he has done to your body. He lets a sigh out of his mouth as he feels your muscles clenching and unclenching around his shaft. He didn't know that. No wonder why it is said that sex leads the world. Why is it considered as a bad thing ?

"Paul... it was... it was great..." You whisper in confusion. "I... oh shit I shouldn't have done that... I liked it too much."

"You are going to be my wife one day and we are going to lead a planet." He promises absentmindedly before kissing your forehead. "That was just the beginning."

He is going to protect you from everything, teaching you how to embrace that corruption necessary to evolve amongst the monsters preying on people like you two.

- - - -

Thank you for reading, please comment and reblog if you liked it ! 😊

#paul atreides x you #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides #timothée chalamet

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rebeltarot · 6 months

Text

FORECAST ➕ What blessings are coming toward you?

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[3 piles] ・ [4 decks] ・ [5 cards for each pile] ・ [letters, signs, messages, songs]

Hello love, and welcome to my pick-a-card reading. you can find instructions and my disclaimer below. please read these before choosing your pile.

ⓘ Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction.

Painting: Leda and the Swan - François Boucher

Helpful Links: How to choose your pile ➕ Request a reading

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PILE 01 ➕

ⓘ Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

R, E, S, S, 33, Virgo, 5th House, Sun, Taurus, Love Affair, Narrow Eyes, Thin Nose, December, Empowerment, I'm intimidated by you, Dance with me - make me sway, A present, I like naps and you, Live every day with intention

Song: Like Me - Chase Icon

WHAT BLESSINGS ARE COMING TOWARD YOU

Tarot: Page of Wands, The Emperor

Oracle: The Hound, South Node, Self-Worth

Hello, and welcome to your reading Pile 01. Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. Your blessing relates to a passion that you have—something that inspires you and that you are curious about. This certain area of your life or topic that you are so interested in might feel like it holds limitless potential. It's like the sky is the limit. This passion relates to something where you consider yourself a novice, someone who is still discovering, learning, and maturing. Your blessing is your graduation in this area. You will grow from the Page of Wands, who carries a fierce love and passion, to the emperor, who is successful, steadfast, and confident in his knowledge. The banana on the page card stood out to me. Bananas are associated with fertility, prosperity, spiritual growth, and good luck! Your passions and interests play a bigger role in your life, and your blessing is heavily linked to that. It might even go as far as to relate to something that you have loved and enjoyed ever since you were a kid. For some of you, this could mean that you will turn your passions into a business or career; for others, this could be about your quality of life and confidence in general, though that seems to be a smaller group. The Hound relates to the keyword "pursuit," which immediately made me think of the song "Pursuit of Happiness" by Kid Cudi, especially the line: "I'm on the pursuit of happiness, and I know, everything that shines ain't always gonna be gold." I do feel like you might have been distracted by careers and interests that were considered valuable and honorable in our society, but your blessing is going back to the roots and your authentic passions and interests. You are focusing on the present while utilizing your past, especially the knowledge that you attained when you were still young or even in a past life. Your blessing is that your talents and skills will build your future and, for most of you, your career. You are and will be intensely pursuing an idea or passion that will help you achieve your goals and attain abundance, whatever that means to you. You have previously chosen the path of least resistance, but you are now learning that if there are no hills and valleys, you should be wary of your direction. As mentioned before, your past plays a big role, especially in the passions you have had ever since you were a kid. The number 33 could be of significance to you. This passion that I keep on referring to is something that has never left you, something that has always been on your mind—similar to unfinished business. And you are unable to ignore it now. You have been toying with this idea before, and now you are pursuing it in full force—your passions, your happiness. There could have been people in your life who doubted you and the potential you see in your pursuit; however, the self-worth card is reminding you that you can see more than others can. You can recognize the potential, and in turn, people, events, and material objects are drawn to you. By aiming higher, you are attracting even greater experiences in your life. Your energy will grow, and remember that receiving is action. Stay loyal and true to your curiosity, and you will be greatly rewarded. Journal prompt: How do I relate to the word "deserving"?

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PILE 02 ➕

ⓘ Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

O, P, E, N, C, Scorpio, Mars, 6th House, Leo, Green Eyes, Sincere, Crush, Responsible, Unwanted Change, I want to marry those eyes, I keep falling for the bad ones, You are my true love - my one and only, You are not shrewd enough, Be true to who you are, When you love what you have you have everything you need

Song: Jungle - DillanPonders ft. Ruby Waters

WHAT BLESSINGS ARE COMING TOWARD YOU

Tarot: Page of Pentacles, 7 of Cups

Oracle: The Three-Toed Sloth, Midheaven, Gratitude

Hello, and welcome to your reading Pile 02. Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. Your blessing relates to choice, especially in your career life. You are quite an ambitious person, someone who is industrious and goal-oriented. You seem to be new in your career. This might relate to the industry you're in or the job you're doing. Either way, your work ethic, and your diligence have led you to attract options in your life. These options represent different great opportunities that are opening up for you. However, you might be still searching for your purpose. These choices that are presented to you are urging you to realize what it is that you want. They are guiding you to search for your purpose. I feel like thus far you have been quite consistent with what you are doing and with the industry you are in. However, you might be stuck in a rut. "I just want to be alone and quiet in a room with a chair, a fireplace, and a tea cozy. I don't even know what a tea cozy is, but I want one." This is a quote from Buffy (TV Show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer). There is this urge within you to take a break and go for the unknown. You have this inner calling for something that you do not understand yet. A vacation could bring you the clarity that you need. Stepping away from your usual stressors and your daily rut will bring you a much-needed break that will eventually lead to a breakthrough. You will be inspired to break the mold and to look for an abundant source of life and energy that refills you daily. During this much-needed break, you will get the opportunity to reflect on your professional reputation and what it truly means to you to be successful. You will take responsibility for your authority, replacing learned definitions of concepts such as success with your understanding of them—a definition that fulfills you, inspires you, and makes you happy. I feel like you will reawaken an ambition that might not make sense to others but fulfills you deeply. Whatever hidden dream you've been carrying with you will come to the forefront, and it will guide you towards your potential. Your blessing is that you will be recognized and appreciated for your genuine self and dreams, as well as your authentic achievements. You will be living out your potential and experiencing deep love and gratitude. Journal Prompt: What does success mean to me? Who is the person I admire most, and why?

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

PILE 03 ➕

ⓘ Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

I, I, E, E, A, Libra, 7th House, Sun, Throat Chakra, Heart Chakra, Equal relationship, Hurt people hurt people, I'm becoming the best version of myself, Now that you have me do you want me still, I can't really explain it - I'm so into you, Guests coming - Means trouble, Your next love affair will surprise you, Do not wait too long before saying "Yes", So much fun

Song: More - K/DA

WHAT BLESSINGS ARE COMING TOWARD YOU

Tarot: 10 of Swords, Page of Pentacles

Oracle: The Toad, Moon, Forgiveness

Hello, and welcome to your reading Pile 03. Please remember that a "blessing" can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. This is such a beautiful pile, wow. The 10 of Swords talks about painful endings, betrayal, and deep wounds, but it also signifies the ending of a cycle. Whatever is represented by the 10 of swords, it cut you deep, and it might have felt like you were drowning in your pain. With the page of pentacles following the 10 of swords, I can see that your blessing is you becoming and growing into a new and pure person. Someone loyal to their principles and values. Someone who, despite their pain, does not harbor resentment or hurt but instead focuses on their intentions. You are diligently working on yourself and your healing journey. Pentacle energy relates to foundational matters and earthly manifestations. It's where your subconscious meets your ego. Obviously, this is and will be quite new to you, as we have an ending here and a new beginning represented by the page, but you will be able to achieve your goals and stay loyal to yourself. This positivity will attract new and pure connections in your life. "If more of us valued food, cheer, and song above hoarding gold, it would be a merrier world." A quote from the book "The Hobbit" by J.R.R. Tolkien. I feel like your previous ways of dealing with this wound focused on the future and the next best thing. Arriving and living in the present moment could have felt unsafe to you. There is or was a lack-mindset here that had you focused on what you were missing, leading you to hold onto things that weren't good for you or that weren't serving a purpose in your life. This does not have to relate to material things; it could talk about careers, connections, pursuits, etc. Your blessing is that you will learn to observe things clearly as they are. You will reconnect to your subconscious and work with the ebbs and flows of your emotions, honoring your current phases and working within those cycles. You will look to your feelings and intuition rather than your logic. The way you see and perceive the world will drastically change, and in turn, it will release and free you from the shackles of your past hurt and pain. By not harboring resentment and focusing on your intentions, you will reconnect with your sense of self. Your blessing is healing. It is self-forgiveness and a sense of belonging. You will be fulfilled, and you will realize that holding onto and following a dream only satisfies you if you focus on the present and gratefully work with what you have. Journal Prompt: Can I forgive myself for loving people who hurt me?

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #tarot community #free tarot readings #tarot readers #forecast #predictions #tarot of tumblr #free tarot #pick an image #tarot readings #divination #witchblr #spiritual community #tarot reading #tarot #channeled messages

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