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#play your cards wisely
squishosaur · 10 months
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why is twisted wonderland like "i am going to ruin your life maybe destroy your worldview a little bit <3 i am going to make you get attatched to these ridiculously named anime boy versions of disney characters and then watch them go through every trauma imaginable that keeps getting progressively worse and more complex as we keep going. i am going to fundamentally change you for better or worse and you will never be able to watch a disney movie again without thinking of me. i am going to make you watch as these awkward teens navigate through Evil Highschool and you have to find Your place in it, knowing fully well that, at the end, after all of that, you will leave all your friends and return to your own world alone again" but also "omg hey girl do you want to see your babygirl as a bunny or a plushie perhaps? say yes"
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king-wilhelm · 1 year
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Okay hold on . In one of my posts I mentioned how wilhelm intuitively knows how to use the resources he has to his advantage and how that makes him a perfect fit for the crown Prince title. I completely fucking forgot about the scene in S1 where he’s talking about letting Alexander take the fall for the drugs instead of Simon and august says “you don’t call the shots you’ve barely been here ten days” or sth like that and this goddamn kid just annihilates august with sensitive info about his family, taking charge among a group of people he barely knows, just to get his way and protect Simon. Wilhelm just knows how to be king, even if he doesn’t.
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bgezal · 12 days
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how would any game dev ever think this is a good-feeling mechanic. is this a joke. is it going to play the worst hand instead. id appreciate that it would mean so much to me
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princeanxious · 1 year
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twilightarcade · 8 months
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I LOVE RHYTHM GAMES
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pucker up buttercup
Yandere florist x reader
Tw: mentions of physical abuse in sexual settings, implied drugging and somnophilia, stalking, implied possessive behavior and controlling nature, mildly nsfw. Not proofread 🌺
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🌷Benny was the quiet kid of your school. You didn't know much about him, except he was a good student and apart of the gardening club. That was all, but Benny? Oh he knew you very well..
🌷you were stunning. You had such amazing hair that he wanted to play with every night before going to sleep, those stunning beautiful eyes that always ghosted over his form in the cafeteria, and your voice that always managed to make him rock hard down there
🌷 recently your family had gotten a wide assortment of flowers for an event. Thinking they were pretty, you asked for the florists name or any social they might have. They handed you a card with the info, and with that you looked up the account on Instagram.
🌷 scrolling through their posts you found a familiar face you'd see every day in the school halls. What was his name again? Benjamin? Beanie? No.. oh yeah! Benny! You didnt know he had such a good eye for aesthetics, especially flower arrangements. But that has to be expected since he spends all his time gardening
🌷the next time you saw him, you walked right up to his table on campus grounds. A bit far from the other outside lunch areas. He froze when he saw a familiar pair of shoes, looking up at you slowly with those big blue eyes
"you're a florist right?"
"y-yes..?"
"how much for a dozen roses and half a dozen tulips?"
🌷you became a regular after that. He'd wait anxiously every day for you in the plant nursery after school. He always gave you such cheap prices, claiming you were his friend and he only did favors for them. You thought he was sweet, so when you heard rumors about him being caught sneaking around the girls locker rooms and stalking a classmate? You shrugged it off,most likely empty gossip
🌷if only you paid attention to the red flags sooner.. you would have realized Benny's real nature. When he asked you out prom night, you agreed, he was sweet and you weren't seeing anyone at the moment. Who knew, maybe this would be the start of a beautiful relationship?
Pros with Benny:
🌹atleast he's a very generous lover. Spoiling you with what he could afford, since he came from humble beginnings he's always wise with the money you both have
🌹 he's completely devoted to you! Never looking at anyone else with love or lust, always worshipping you both in bed and outside it
🌹you learn new things. Like natural remedies, plants and their names, their usefulness to make nearly everything. Even drugs (He's vegan.)
🌹he wants to settle down and raise a family with you as soon as you graduate college! He gets tipsy and love drunk thinking about it too much. He'd make an excellent father. Kind of.
The cons:
🥀 randomly, he'll get very aggressive in bed. Biting you till your skin bleeds, slapping your chest and ass, degrading you with the most vilest words. Not to mention he seems to really like choking you till you almost pass out
🥀he doesn't know how to take no for an answer, he'll go scarily quiet and his eyes will turn dull. A complete contrast to how he usually is. Surely a little intimidation will make you change your mind no?
🥀 he's possessive with your time and love. If he ever notices you staring at anyone a little too long, who isn't friends or family he knows of, you bet there'll be missing person posters by the end of the week
🥀he forbids you from going into the basement. Saying it's his private nursery and you should respect his privacy, even if he doesn't respect yours
🥀 randomly you'll feel sleepy after Eating anything he makes you, growing drowsy and the last thing you can remember is feeling clammy hands hastily unbutton your pants and shirt
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catcatb0y · 1 year
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I BEAT THE NEW FUCKING EVENT SONG IN THREE TRIES WITH ONE OR LESS RESTARTS PER TRY (and one of them was because I sneezed lmfao)
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Out of all the songs, I can't believe they went with the gayass vFlower lesbian tragedy song that I was fucking obsessed with when it came out. The MV is so fucking pretty it's not even funny.
Not to mention!!! An entire Mizuki event???
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I'm foaming at the mouth I can't wait to unlock all of the stories asap.
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I already have three, but I had to stop for irl shit sob.
#there is no cis explanation for Mizuki#maybe a gay one??#but like they change shirts on the roof after saying there's no place for them to change (they are in a school btw)#all of their past depections are masculine-leaning#one of the characters shifts from using 'kun' to using 'chan'#on top of that- despite being a 'girly-girl'/high femme character they use 'boku' not 'watashi' like the rest of their group#they get weird comments about the way they look/dress in school- which at first I thought was about makeup since it's a Japanese school#some schools are pretty strict about that stuff- the hall monitors do chastize kids for wearing earrings and not tucking in their shirts#one of their earlier lines talks about how they're seen as a weird person/outcast (saying like 'aren't you jusf hanging out with me to use-#as inspiration (for your plays)?' or something along those lines) during their past#but you know being a social outcast will do that too#one of their big canon moments is about how they have a huge secret (that usually causes people to leave them)#which I thought at first was just trust issues- but that doesn't really make sense in the canon. especially not with their backstory#also one of their character cards has them surrounded by what appears to be daffodils#which can either mean rebirth and new life (an ode to transness) or it can mean unrequited love#the cishet options are 'respect' and 'chivalry' but that doesn't quite add up with the depiction of seriousness#much less the fact that the flowers cover Mitsuki's mouth (as their eyes are pointed downcast)#there'a also the fact that the (translations) never gender Mizuki#most of the character dialogue avoides using gendered terms and the only pronouns ever used are they/tem#which is definitely A Choice translation wise- meaning either Mizuki is canonically nonbinary or the orginal Japanese avoids using gender#Mizuki they/them lesbian confirmed canon (/hj)#but like#it's a Japanese game... they're not exactly known for their pro-lgbt stances#not to mention the game has three MILLION players (possibly worldwide?) they had a big announcement thanking everyone for that milestone#like a big ass chunk of the players are gay as hell like it's a fucking Hatsune Miku game a lot of openly queer people play it#every single Vivid Bad Squad show is immediately spammed with 'g@y' and 'fruits'#a lot of profiles admit to being openly gay or shipping the queer characters#but still like#a queer character in a Japanese game that has three million players... doesn't sound very likely...
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lyralit · 2 years
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ᴛɪᴘꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀꜱ [ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ]
don't let your skill in writing deter you. publishers look for the storyline, not always excellent writing. many of the greatest books came from mediocre writers—and also excellent and terrible ones.
keep writing even when it sucks. you don't know how to write this battle scene yet? skip ahead. write [battle scene here] and continue. in the end, you'll still have a book—and you can fill in the blanks later.
find your motivation. whether it's constantly updating That One Friend or posting your progress, motivation is key.
write everything down. everything. you had the perfect plot appear to you in a dream? scribble down everything you can remember as so as you can. I like to keep cue cards on my nightstand just in case.
play with words. titles, sentences, whatever. a lot of it will probably change either way, so this is the perfect opportunity to try out a new turn of phrase—or move along on one you're not quite sure clicks yet.
explain why, don't tell me. if something is the most beautiful thing a character's ever laid eyes on, describe it—don't just say "it's beautiful".
ask for critique. you will always be partial to your writing. getting others to read it will almost always provide feedback to help you write even better.
stick to the book—until they snap. write a character who is disciplined, courteous, and kind. make every interaction to reinforce the reader's view as such. but when they're left alone, when their closest friend betrays them, when the world falls to their feet...make them finally break.
magic. has. limits. there is no "infinite well" for everyone to draw from, nor "infinite spells" that have been discovered. magic has a price. magic has a limit. it takes a toll on the user—otherwise why can't they simply snap their fingers and make everything go their way?
read, read, read. reading is the source of inspiration.
first drafts suck. and that's putting it gently. ignoring all the typos, unfinished sentences, and blatant breaking of each and every grammar rules, there's still a lot of terrible. the point of drafts is to progress and make it better: it's the sketch beneath an oil painting. it's okay to say it's not great—but that won't mean the ideas and inspiration are not there. first drafts suck, and that's how you get better.
write every day. get into the habit—one sentence more, or one hundred pages, both will train you to improve.
more is the key to improvement. more writing, more reading, more feedback, and you can only get better. writing is a skill, not a talent, and it's something that grows with you.
follow the rules but also scrap them completely. as barbossa wisely says in PotC, "the code is more what you'd call 'guidelines' than actual rules". none of this is by the book, as ironic as that may be.
write for yourself. I cannot stress this enough. if what you do is not something you enjoy, it will only get harder. push yourself, but know your limits. know when you need to take a break, and when you need to try again. write for yourself, and you will put out your best work.
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stevieschrodinger · 1 year
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Just imagine how put out Dustin would be. He's spent months and months working on Steve, trying to get him to come and play. It had been a personal, ongoing campaign. He used every trick and manipulation and wasn't above just outright whining about it. All he asks is Steve try it; just once.
Just imagine how put out he is when Eddie gets out of the hospital, and he asks Steve one time, and Steve says yes. But of course Dustin can't complain OUT LOUD, because he got what he wanted, didn't he? Steve's going to play.
Dustin makes this as absolutely painless as possible; Steve doesn't even see his character sheet until it's done. Dustin has him roll for stats. They talk about race and class. They talk about what skills his character should have...but he doesn't go into detail. he wants to make this fun for Steve, so he lets Steve pick whatever the hell he wants and when Steve calls his gnome Trip Hazard, Dustin doesn't even bitch about it.
Dustin corners Eddie ten minutes before their one shot starts, and explicitly tells him to let Steve get away with absolutely any and all bullshit. The goal here is that Steve comes back.
Of course Dustin has no idea that Eddie has been making heart eyes at Steve for literally years and fully intends to do that, anyway.
It's a one off, so Eddie has some fun with it. He's generous with the XP and everyone has two levels before lunch, excitedly choosing new skills and spells. After a mini boss battle they come across a hoard of treasure; some of it magical.
It's a free for all and everyone walks away with a fun new powerful toy for their character; Eddie's even pre made little cards with illustrations, descriptions, and the magical abilities of each item. He does a whole array, more than they need, but everyone gets one thing each.
Steve, hilariously, chooses a seven foot spear.
Eddie holds it together and does not laugh. He lets Steve do whatever he wants, and when Steve has a moment of madness and acts out his tiny gnome suddenly getting his spear stuck in every single doorway, everyone looses their shit.
The final battle though, that evening, rapidly because serious; an acid spewing black dragon. Everyone rolls initiative. The Dragon, with advantage, goes first, and the battle goes back and forth for several turns before, "the great beast raises itself onto it's back legs, mighty wings spread, so massive they fill the cavern," Eddie climbs up on his chair, spreading his arms demonstrably, "the dragon draws in a mighty breath...Will the Wise, your move."
The party uses their turn to attack, moving their little people on the board appropriately. Steve's turn comes and everyone looks at him..."I'll, ah, move, I think."
"Attack Steve!" Dustin encourages him.
Steve moves his little gnome, with hilariously oversized cardboard accessory, to directly in front of the dragon, the air in the room grows heavy, intent, "no attack...I set to receive a charge."
Every turns to look at Eddie, who frowns down at the map.
"It's on here," Steve volunteers the little card that came with his spear. "This counts, right? Double damage because it's magic, then setting to receive a charge is double damage again..."
Everyone looks back to Eddie again who, solemnly, frowns...then nods.
The dragon unleashes it's attack, everyone in the party taking damage. The dragon falls forward, aiming to land on all of it's feet again.
"Does that...work?" Steve asks hesitantly.
Eddie nods. The damage is so great when Dustin works it out, they have to borrow dice from Will to combine with Dustin's so Steve can roll them all together. The combination enough to fill his cupped hands.
Steve kills the dragon. Everyone is up, screaming and cheering.
Steve is the only one to notice when Eddie rolls damage; Trip Hazard is instantly killed by the crushing force of a dragons corpse.
Steve doesn't care, especially not when Eddie gets real close to whisper in his ear, "that was so fucking clever, I'm furious."
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 8 months
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Practice On Me — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Young Azriel (twenty years old) in Windhaven. A deliciously cliche trope that’s always fun to write. You and Az are close friends, and that’s why he trusts you with a certain insecurity. And also why you come up with an interesting solution. Doesn’t mean it’s necessarily a good idea, though…
Word count: 4.5k.
Warnings: None.
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These nights are cold and unforgiving.
The snow began hammering down in silent droves a couple of hours before. A thick layer of it now blankets the ground and paints the Windhaven camp a brutal white that makes you glance at the boots on your feet. Basic, brown boots that will be soaked and frozen by the time you reach your shoddy hovel of a house. You should have left at the sight of the first snowflake that kissed the ground.
But Rhysand’s mother’s cottage is warm and cosy in a way that yours isn’t. It lulls you to sit back rather than sit up, the fire crackling away in the corner and the smell of spilled ale tinging the air, Cassian’s clumsiness, of course. Your friends eyeball each other around the table, and this game of cards has been going on for too long, and you think your eyes might be growing heavy. If you don’t muster the energy to walk home now, you’ll regret it.
“I’m out.” You announce wisely, eyeing the pitiful deal of cards in your hands. You pile them atop of the table, stretching your arms above your head. The game continues around you.
Playing cards with Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel is always a little amusing — seeing them transform from boisterous, drunken fools to serious, suspicious competitors. They study each other across the top of their cards as if there are any real takings to be had by the winner — but Rhysand’s mother would have your heads if you actually gambled under her roof, so a pile of plastic buttons it is.
Certainly not an incentive to stay any longer.
You stand from your chair, earning curious looks from your three friends. To them, the night is young, at least while Rhys’s mother isn’t here to berate you about the late hour — two, three o’clock, perhaps — but to you, with an unpleasant journey across the camp still to be completed, the night is very much old and very much over.
“I’m heading home before the weather gets any worse.” You announce, plucking your jacket from the back of your chair. “Enjoy the rest of your game, ladies.”
Cassian snorts and Rhys studies his cards once more, ever the serious player, but it’s Azriel — Azriel, who places his dealt hand face-down on the table and also stands from his seat.
“I’ll walk with you.” He announces. Your other two friends don’t so much as bat an eyelash at the offer, because it’s a regular one, one you’ve heard a thousand times and one you know not to politely protest.
Azriel is your closest friend in this gods-forsaken place. And he will genuinely plunge a dagger into his heart before allowing you to brave your walk home alone.
So, you wait by the door as he shucks his jacket on, sliding warm gloves over his scarred hands. And then you’re opening the door, and a savage flurry of snow is pelting your face like it’s been waiting to attack.
“Fucking hell, close the door.” Cass grouses. “It’s glacial out there.”
As if, as Illyrians, the four of you aren’t used to the brutal temperatures. You roll your eyes at his whining and shove your hands into your pockets, before planting a boot into the thick layer of snow already on the ground. You grimace at how little protection your shoes afford you. Twenty years you’ve lived here. You should know better, be more prepared. Hopefully you can make it home before your feet turn to blocks of ice.
“Goodnight, assholes.” You call over your shoulder, and your friends momentarily break from their poker faces to return the sentiment. “Love you!”, Cassian calls, and “Keep warm!”, Rhysand reminds you, and then Azriel is following you out of the door.
“Cass is definitely losing that game.” The Shadowsinger immediately sidles close to you, his side pressed against yours. It doesn’t do much against the glowering cold, but it’s a comfort.
“I’m sure we’ll be able to hear it across the camp the moment he realises.” You breathe a laugh, curling in on yourself. Not only is the temperature simply unpleasant, but it also causes you pain — any extreme weather seems to make the ruined remains of your clipped wings twinge. You search for a subject to distract yourself from the sensation. “How come you didn’t invite Kaeda tonight?”
The name of Azriel’s recent interest has him angling himself towards you, snowflakes catching in his hair. He raises a dark eyebrow. “We’ve not moved past the casual stage yet. Certainly not enough to subject her to Cassian’s company.”
“Shame. It’d be nice to have another female around.” Rhysand’s cousin, Mor, sometimes comes to visit, and you have a few good female friends around the camp, but in your closest circle, you’re a little outnumbered.
Something that didn’t seem to matter so much when you were all younglings making mischief. But you’re adults now. Things are different. You are different.
Azriel presses his arm into yours. “If things progress, I’ll bring her to meet the three of you.”
That’d be nice, you think. To have another friend, and to see Azriel happy. See him appreciated. He deserves to be appreciated.
“And are they?” You press back. “Progressing?”
It’s then that there’s the slightest shift in his demeanour. Anyone else might not catch it — he’s the Shadowsinger, after all, and damn well guarded and cryptic and good at hiding what he’s thinking, feeling. But you’ve known him since you were mere, little runts, and you know every little mannerism.
Even in the freezing cold, Azriel blushes. Turns coy.
“What?” You urge, trying and failing to read him.
He gives a half-hearted shrug. “I want to kiss her.”
“Then why don’t you?
“I want to do it right. I don’t…I don’t want to fuck it up.”
The concern seems like a baseless one. You’re sure Azriel has kissed people before, although he’s always been considerably more reserved than Cassian and Rhys when it comes to females, and you’re not certain how far he’s ever gone. Of all the things you talk about, this isn’t usually one of them. You’re not sure why.
But you’ll help, if possible. You mull over his words as the two of you crunch through thick snow, more and more of it seeping into your useless shoes. The soles of them are worn, and you need a new pair, but you can ill afford it right now. Eventually, the cold starts to get painful, and you stop for a moment, leaning on Az’s arm as you swear quietly.
“There’s no way you’re making it home in those.” He’s totally right, of course. “I told you to get new ones.”
“And I told you, I can’t afford them.” Your toes are numb, now.
“I could fly you straight to your door—”
“Az, you know you can’t.” You sigh; the two of you have had this conversation countless times, because Az takes your safety very seriously indeed. “My father won’t like it.”
It’s not like your father isn’t aware that you’ve been friends with Az and the others since you were youngsters. But as you’ve gotten older, he’s only gotten more paranoid. The last person in the godsdamn universe he would want to think about you having relations with is any of your three closest friends. And if he so much as catches a whiff of them at your door, one of you is sure to pay for it.
Azriel knows you’re right, even if he doesn’t like it. He curses under his breath, and then his arms are snaking around you. “Alright. Hold on to me.”
“What are you…” You cling to him as much as your frozen fingers will allow. He’s always a little warmer than you are, and the feeling is pleasant. As pleasant as his scent is. So naturally, you press closer to him.
“We’ll go to the mead hall.” Azriel explains. “No one will be there now, but the hearths will still be warm. We can spend the night there, and I’ll fly you home in the morning when your father has left for the forge.”
The mead hall is where the Illyrian families across the camp congregate almost nightly to eat their dinner and learn of camp news. It mostly becomes an unpleasant atmosphere, with the males drinking too much and at least one fight certain to break out. You try to attend as little as possible, opting to eat your meals elsewhere, usually in the company of your friends, but your father sometimes insists that you accompany him and drag his drunken ass back home afterwards.
At this time of night, though, the brutes will have been long kicked out and sent home. The cooks will have followed soon after, and the only remaining presence in the long hall is the heat that filled the place. The mere thought of it is a mouthwatering one.
Unsurprisingly, it’s locked, and unsurprisingly, Azriel and his shadows get the door open as if it isn’t. He places you down in the entrance, and you’re immediately heading through to the mammoth dining hall, the warmth breathing out at you and thawing your frozen skin.
Az’s boots thud on the wooden floor after you, leaving little patches of melting snow in his wake. “I’ll get another fire going.”
You hop up onto one of the long wooden tables, first kicking off your sodden shoes and then stuffing your socks into them. You wiggle your toes, trying to generate some warmth into your pinkened feet.
You watch Azriel from across the room. The strands of his dark hair are damp and falling into his eyes, his skin cold-bitten. Sometimes, in moments like these, it stuns you how beautiful your closest friend is. You suppose it’s easy to forget, sometimes, when you’ve known somebody for so long; easy to become desensitised to their beauty. But looking at him like this, you’re sure he must have a whole line of suitors — both female and male — vying for his attention. Even if it’s something he never talks about.
To you, he’s just Az. And you can’t help snorting quietly as he so predictably scoops your shoes and socks up and places them by the fire he has lit.
A mother hen, truly.
“You should start to warm up any second.” He says, traipsing back over to where you’re sat. He slots himself between your legs, and his warmed hands cup your face. “I’m going to buy you a new pair of boots.”
“No you’re not.” You immediately quip, narrowing your eyes up at him. “I’ll buy them when my father chooses to pay me.”
You know it ticks him off — he, like the other adult males, gets a semi-decent wage for his commitment to the Illyrian army, the hours of training he puts in. You, on the other hand, might spend hours — days — helping out in your father’s forge, using the skills you’ve observed from him, and you’ll still only see the flash of a coin on a rare day that he decides he tolerates having a daughter, and that you’re not so bad, after all.
Hence why Azriel can afford a pair of boots, and you can’t. But you’ll not take his money.
So, you change the subject, relaxing into the pleasant sensation of his shadows tickling your skin, warming you. “Why would you fuck it up?”
Azriel’s face turns blank. “What?”
“You said you don’t want to fuck up kissing Kaeda. Why do you think you would?”
He stares back at you for a beat. And then his cheeks darken imperceptibly — nothing to do with the cold.
It surprises you. Az can be coy; shy, even. He’s the quietest of the three males in your circle. A pensive observer, never having much to say but certainly always having much to think about. And you know he has his insecurities, things that bother him, but he’s mostly sure of himself. Knows his power, his strength.
You’re not quite used to him balking from a subject. Becoming flustered by it.
“Has anyone complained about your technique before?” You cock an eyebrow, already knowing that no, they absolutely haven’t. Azriel has very full, kissable lips — something you’ve observed a couple of times before. In a totally platonic way, of course. Totally.
“I didn’t say that,” he lowers his gaze, “I—”
“Just go for it.” You reach up, pinching his flushed cheek between your fingers. “Jump right in and land one on Kaeda. Impress her with your kissing prowess—”
“You,” he tugs your hand away, “are so annoying—”
“The rest will naturally follow when you have your tongue in her mouth. Trust me. And then you’ll be wondering why you were worried in the first place—”
“Except that I’ve never kissed anybody before.”
Immediately, you fall still.
He may as well have shouted the words, from how loudly they seem to echo through the hall.
You stare up at your dear friend, and you blink. Wait for the punchline. Wait for a teasing grin to tug at the corner of his lips — something that very few people other than you get to witness — and for him to tell you that he’s jesting, and of course he’s kissed somebody before, and done a lot more stuff than that, too. All the stuff. Every bit of it. Over and over again—
“Let’s just drop it.” He murmurs, stepping away. You think you might have offended him with your silence, your surprise.
“Wait.” You blink, grasping hold of his arm. “Just…wait.”
He studies you. “Is it that much of a shock?”
Honestly? Yes, yes, it is. Because how did you not know this? You met Azriel when you were both eleven years old. Nine years ago. You faced puberty together and all the awkward things in between. And while you may not sit and discuss the ins and outs of your respective experiences, you simply assumed that his were progressing and evolving just as yours had. Cauldron, Rhys and Cassian stuck their cocks in different males and females every other week. You supposed you’d merely…grouped Azriel in with such things.
But when you think about it — really, truly think about it — Azriel is the only one of the three males who has never introduced another female to the group; no matter how short or fleeting their presence might be. You can’t pluck from your brain a single name he’s ever mentioned besides Kaeda — and that’s a very recent thing.
You’re still waiting a teeny, tiny, little bit for him to say he’s joking. But his cheeks are redder than ever.
“You’ve never kissed anyone.” You repeat, blinking at him.
He purses his lips. “I haven’t.”
“You’ve never pressed your lips to another person’s—”
“I think we’ve established that, Y/N.” He pivots, turning his back on you. “Just forget it.”
“No, wait, fuck, Az, you know I’m shit with words.” You reach for his hand. “Just…how come? Why have you never kissed anybody?”
His hand is tense in yours. You don’t like it. So many times, you’ve held his hand, felt his fingers fold around yours and your palms warm against each other’s. But he holds it limp, now, barely any weight to it. You give it a gentle squeeze.
He pauses. Then squeezes back.
And it’s then that you realise that’s where the problem lies — his hands. Scars.
“Az,” you sigh softly, tugging him closer to you. “Your hands are beautiful. A part of you, your story. Anyone worth knowing — worth kissing — will think the same.”
And gods, you mean the words with every tiny shred of your spirit and soul. There’s no one on the Mother’s green earth that you love more fiercely than the male in front of you. So kind, despite the hatred that’s been shown to him. So gentle, despite the brutality of your environment. He’s wiped your tears and kept you warm and shared his food and given you a place to sleep when your father has made your life particularly difficult. Platonic soulmates exist, and Azriel is yours.
He turns back to you and keeps hold of your hand. And he chews his bottom lip as he says, “I do know that. I know that not everybody is judgemental. But it’s not just the scars.”
You brush your thumb over the back of his palm. “What else is it?”
“I just simply don’t know…how. Fuck, theoretically, of course I know how kissing works. I’ve seen it more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be any good at it. I could be awful, for all I know.”
You highly, highly doubt that to be the case. “You just…practice. Until you know what you like. Until you know your technique.”
Hazel eyes study you curiously. “So…you have, then. Practiced.”
It’s rather strange, but a sudden, random slither of guilt presses down on your shoulders. Silly, because Azriel would never begrudge you your experiences — and you’ve had plenty of them, good and bad.
But in that moment, you want nothing more than to be able to tell him that you, too, have never kissed anybody. That you’ve never touched anybody or lain with anybody. That you’re just as inexperienced and clueless as he is.
But that would be a bare-faced lie. And you and Azriel do not lie to each other.
So perhaps it’s the guilt that causes you to blurt out, “Practice on me.”
Azriel blinks at you. His hand slackens in yours. “What?”
And fuck, you’ve said it now. You’re not sure whether or not you even meant to, but you think it’d be more awkward to retract the words than stand by them and ride them out. You square your shoulders. Try to seem sure, confident.
“Practice kissing with me.”
The poor male is completely dumbfounded. “You’re…my friend.”
“Yes, Azriel. That’s why I’m offering. Practice on me, refine your technique, and then you can apply that confidence to Kaeda.”
“Practice…on you…”
“I’m trying really hard not to be offended by the disgust that’s on your face right now.”
“Shit, no, that’s not—”
“You know what? Forget I said that. Dumb idea. Terrible idea. Forget I even mentioned it.”
Az stares at you. And you don’t want to balk from the eye contact, but you also totally want to throw yourself in the fire, because it would burn less than your embarrassment right now.
And then he says, “Is it a serious offer?”
You lift one shoulder into a shrug. “Why not?”
Oh, there are a million fucking reasons why not. The most pressing being that yours and Azriel’s friendship is, perhaps, the most stable thing in your life. Certainly the most precious and treasured. Rocking that is a very bad idea, indeed.
And you think, for a moment, that that’s precisely what Az is going to tell you. He has that look on his face that he usually gets when you’re about to do something stupid. The one where he chews the inside of his cheek and his eyes rove your face.
But then the word leaves him, quiet and a little breathless, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I accept your offer.”
He—damn. You didn’t think this far; suppose you didn’t expect him to actually agree. And yet here he is, agreeing.
Suddenly, you feel like you’ve never kissed anybody, either.
But you’re supposed to be guiding him here. So you sit up straight. Lift your chin. Azriel watches, eyeing you a little like you’re a creature he’s never seen before. The bewilderment on his face squeezes your heart a bit.
“Do you want to do it now?” You ask.
He swallows. And his eyes fall down to your lips before flicking back to meet yours. “I suppose there’s no time like the present.”
And there isn’t. The two of you are here alone, no background noise from Cassian or Rhysand to battle with. It’s just you and Azriel. Your eyes. Your mouths.
You realise you’re still holding his hand, and so you use it to pull him closer to you, slot him back between your legs. You’re certain he’s trembling, and you are, too.
“Just take your time.” You tell him. “Let your body lead. Do what feels natural.”
He gives a stiff nod. And pauses. “And you promise to be honest afterwards? About how it was?”
Your eyes soften. “Always, Az.”
He nods again, and then he’s sucking in a slow, steadying breath. You remain still, allowing him to make the first move, to do whatever he wants.
There’s a pause of heavy silence, and then he dips his head. Kisses you once.
It’s a quick, closed-mouth kiss. Sweet, if not a little stiff and awkward. But you know Azriel is testing the waters, deciding whether he truly wants to do this. If he surmises that he absolutely doesn’t, you’ll stop, say no more about it. You keep still and allow him to decide.
And when he pulls back to study you, you give him a reassuring smile. One that silently communicates, I’m fine, we’re fine, this is fine.
It seems to give him the little boost he needs.
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Slowly, he slips his hand out of yours, and you allow him to. You watch as he inches even closer. Moves his hands up to rest at either side of your face.
When he’s cupping your cheeks, his eyes meet yours, and he whispers. “Is this okay?”
You squeeze his forearm once. “It’s fine, Az. Do whatever you feel you want to do. I’ll tell you if I don’t like anything.”
He nods, and his gaze drags down to your lips. You’re still, careful, not moving until he’s ready to. And maybe he’ll not feel ready. Maybe he’ll stop this and pull back and decide it’s a terrible idea—
No.
Azriel’s thumb sweeps over your cheek. And then he leans in and presses his mouth to yours a second time.
This time, it’s different — you can tell straight away.
It starts out slow, his lips exploring yours, moulding to the shape of them. The kiss is a caress on your mouth, and it’s a damn good start. You find yourself leaning into it. Kissing back.
For a split second, you feel Az pause. But then his hand is cupping your cheek firmer, the heat of his palm meeting the heat of your face and making you forget how cold you were only minutes ago. Az’s lips part, and so naturally, yours do the same. You kiss him gladly.
And he’s not bad at all. You’ve kissed far more experienced males with far worse technique. Azriel may be nervous and tentative, but there’s something there, lurking beneath the surface. Something that will grow with the right encouragement, the right amount of confidence.
You…you want to give him both.
But it’s important to remember why you’re doing this. For his sake. So he can comfortably kiss the female he’s interested in.
You part from him momentarily, his breath fanning your lips as you ask him, “Are you doing okay?”
“I am.” There’s a rasp to his voice. “Are you?”
“I’m doing great.”
And you are. The weight of Azriel’s hand on your cheek is surprisingly pleasant. This exploration is new, and it’s thrilling, and it’s nice. It feels…nice.
“Do you want to keep going?” You know what you want to do. “Or would you like to stop? Whatever you want, Az.”
He swallows again. “I want to keep going.”
You nod, and in gentle encouragement, you move your hands to rest at his waist. You must be imagining the slight tremor that wracks through Azriel’s body in that moment. Or perhaps it’s just a coincidence.
There’s no time to think, because he dips his head and catches your lips faster this time. He tilts your head up, applying a little bit of pressure to your mouth. Your lips part, and so do his.
Az’s tongue seems to tease the seam of your lips. And then he slides it into your mouth.
His taste invades you so suddenly, so thoroughly, that you gasp. It’s something rough and smoky. Rugged and pleasant. You can’t think of the exact words as his tongue meets yours, and nor do you care to. All you want to do is reciprocate. Kiss him.
You scoot forward on the table, lifting yourself up slightly to add a touch more fervour to the kiss. Your tongue rolls around Azriel’s, and it’s so damn good, so damn sinful, so damn unexpected.
You’re aware, somewhat, of Azriel’s hand slipping from your cheek and resting at the column of your neck. And he licks at the roof of your mouth, and at your tongue, and somehow at every part of you that has you wanting more. His lips work perfectly with yours, not faltering once.
In that moment, you might forget who you are and what your life story is, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget this — this kiss of pure, salacious, unguarded need. If this is what Azriel kisses like for the first time, you can’t imagine how he could possibly progress. How it could get better than this.
One of you makes a needy little noise — you think it might have come from him, but it lands in your mouth, anyway. And then you’re being yanked closer, and your hands are moving up to tangle within Azriel’s hair, and you’re tugging the strands and pulling him against you and kissing him so desperately that you’re sure you’re going to feel it days, weeks, months from now. Azriel’s fingers knead the back of your neck, and your legs snake around his waist, locking him in.
There’s movement. Natural, pleasant movement — you, him, both of you together, moving and shifting.
You don’t know at which point you’re lying back on the table, or which of you made it happen; but suddenly Azriel is hovering over you, his body flush to yours, too-hot parts of you meeting too-hot parts of him.
The kiss is burning, and needy, and you writhe beneath him, and he writhes on top of you, and he’s pressing against you, and you both groan.
And then Az breaks away.
He doesn’t move far — just rips his lips from yours.
You’re both panting, breathing so hard that your heaving chests touch with every breath. Azriel blinks down at you, and you blink up at him.
And in that moment, you become aware of just how far this has slipped. He’s basically lying on top of you, his body moving with yours. Your scents have changed and combined, and you both know what the earthier, deeper quality to them means.
That you got a little carried away. And this needs to stop — now.
Azriel stares down at you, panting against your mouth as your heart thunders in your ears.
“Fuck.” Is all he says.
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azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden
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arijackz · 2 months
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PICK A CARD: What You're Walking Away From and What You're Walking Toward
⚸ "Just like moons and like suns, with the certainty of tides, just like hopes springing high, still I’ll rise." —Maya Angelou
Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. I wish you love and light through this renewing period. <3
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p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4
♦︎ Pile One ♦︎ (3oP, 2oS rev., the tower, the star)
⚄ The cards are taking a while to come out, I feel like whatever seeds you’re planting, the bulk of the work is being done internally, subconsciously, or in your sleep. ⚄ With the three of pentacles,  you are reevaluating the role your social connections play in your life and how exactly they’ll fit into the puzzle pieces of your future. For most of you, these are friendships. A few of you, romantic relationships. Another subset of you, there is an emphasis on the relationships you've built with the people you share a common goal with. This can be for work, clubs, hobbies, etc. ⚄ You are moving out of 5th house-type friendships (here for a good time, not a long time) and entering 7th and 11th house partnerships. These unions go beyond just having fun. Deep connections are developed so you can have a support team to lean on during the upcoming highs and lows of the 6th, 8th, and 10th house. They hold more significance and the people who reside in this area of your life should be thoroughly vetted. ⚄ Two of swords rev., you are battling with an internal decision regarding the company you keep and struggling to center yourself.  This tower moment is forcing you to vet. To take action. Reflect on whether these people help fulfill your life purpose and achieve your goals or just hinder them. Reassess your relationships according to what you want out of life. ⚄ I was trying to keep this pac short and down to 3 cards. But apparently not?? The star just flipped out, reaffirming that there's a lot of good shit in the works. Stepping away from certain people will align you with the next phase of your life. Bigger and better is coming in. Some of you are settling in relationships in fear of being alone. ⚄ Staying with connections you have outgrown will leave you stagnant. The universe has big plans in store for you, your life is going to take off soon. It will not wait for your friends to hop aboard the ride. You cannot take everyone with you. Your relationships are coming into question because the universe is doing some pruning for you. ⚄ I see people “jumping ship”, maybe you feel the people around you are not there for you during your rough patches? Yeah, connections built on shallow foundations are dissolving.  ⚄ The king of cups popped up out of nowhere. You are falling out of alignment with the people you’re with and leaving them will push you towards kinder souls who are more emotionally nurturing.  ⚄ Mercurial, Uranian, and lil bit of Jupitarian energy. I’m talking directly to you Virgo, Gemini, Aquarius, and Pisces placements. I call you out with love of course. This is my sidereal big 3 after all<3 ⚄ The star is a very hopeful card, filled with excitement and abundance. You are driving on the road to your destiny. There are only a few seats left in the car, choose wisely. ⚄ Advice: Have faith in your intuition and discernment. I say this in every pac lmao. You’re definitely on the right path (you’re leading up to the star), but this transitioning period is going to be uncomfortable because you are leaving connections behind. When we exit our comfort zones and leave people, we tend to gaslight ourselves and downplay the situation or allow fear to derail our judgment. You are too close to your dreams to let old connections hold you back. You have a deep knowing that these connections will not survive the ride to the top, listen to your intuition and let go of what is no longer serving you. Be selfish if need be.
I only bark once.
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♦︎ Pile Two ♦︎ (temperance, the magician, the hermit, knight of swords)
⚄ I felt a puff of air in my left eye. The left side of the body is traditionally associated with the intuitive and receptive feminine. You are in a waiting period right now and are receiving intuitive downloads and messages. Your connection to the metaphysical is strengthening. Be inquisitive at this time and assess your life in a higher light, you are being blessed with the ability to see the hidden and the unforeseen.  The synchronicities you are seeing right now are not a coincidence. (Extra confirmation if you’re seeing repetitive 3’s, 5’s, 8’s, triangles, stars, and the infinity symbol)
⚄ Lmfao I was planning on only pulling three cards but the life you’re sowing right now is HUGE. 3 major arcanas back to back and then a court card?? You are being prepped for a whirlwind of adventure. You’re in your own world fucking COOKING.
⚄ The slow period you’re in is forcing you to build a foundation of balance, patience, and introspection. Boring. I know. But it is crucial to your development. I said it best in my last pac so i’ll say it again here, Whatever you build in this lifetime will be built slowly and have a solid foundation because your legacy is meant to withstand the test of time and last long after you leave this Earth. This period you’ve spent waiting is you getting your ducks in a row and sowing your seeds for the next evolution of you.
⚄ Shoutout to my Pisceans and Saturnians. If you have resonated with this so far, definitely go check out pile 4 of my ✩Glow Up✩ pac because there are a lot of gems in there for you.
⚄ You are creating your future reality in this introspective period. I feel for a lot of you, your self-work is centered around deconstructing the old perception of yourself and building your identity up from scratch. You are either beginning, in the heat of, or ending a long period of self-discovery and establishing your self-esteem.
⚄ With the knight of swords at the end of the spread, you are approaching the end of the tunnel with renewed vigor and resolute faith in your capabilities. I’m seeing your life in reference to that religious story, (Lord forgive me, I am telling it wrong and forgot the details 😭) where the man gets locked in a cave and starved, expected to either be dead or too feeble by the time his sentence is over. Instead, he comes out stronger than ever and with twice the unwavering spirit he had before his time in the cave.
⚄ This is what’s happening to you, you are finding inner strength and willpower that is going to propel you forward in your destiny. And you will not fail. It’s not even possible, the resolve you’ve built for yourself will carry you faithfully through all the bullshit life will throw at you.
⚄ Advice: None. You got this in the bag,just remember that you only lose battles when you retreat. The energy you’re cultivating for your near future is the knight of swords, a character who will never retreat. Therefore, you will never truly lose.
"I was born underwater with three dollars and six dimes"
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♦︎ Pile Three ♦︎ (9oS, the hanged man, 6oS, 10oW)
⚄ Off the bat, you need to surrender any hangups you have surrounding your future. I picture your mind running 24/7 telling you all the ways you’ll fail as you work tirelessly. Or, you want so desperately to put your plans into action, but a buried subconscious fear prevents you from moving forward, adding more stress on your shoulders. It is weighing heavy on your mental health and causing severe anxiety that is inhibiting you from much-needed rest and healing. This is the season of surrender, it’s okay to let go and let the current wash you away. As soon as you release your fear of making mistakes, you’ll learn the flow of the waves.
⚄ Two of pentacles is at the bottom of the deck, I feel your stress stems from a fear of financial insecurity and the overwhelming pressure of having to plan a sustainable career yourself. A lot of your priorities in life are demanding your attention and it is becoming a heavy burden.
⚄ I am going to be blunt because I care. You gotta stop giving a fuck. Your anxieties are paralyzing you. You need to sip a little metaphorical “fuck it” juice. I am just now getting out of the mental space you’re in. The only thing that helped me step out of my fear-induced paralysis (which lasted a long and dark 6-years), was to reaffirm that no matter what decision I make, I will come out prosperous. In fact, the more you stress about the future and the more control you try to take, the further you push your desires away, which will only fuel your anxiety bugs.
⚄ Have faith that no matter where you land, you have the power to turn any less-than-ideal situation into something bountiful. The bird does not fear the branch breaking because it has faith in its wings. Not making a choice at all is worse than picking the wrong one. You’ll win some, you’ll lose some, all situations bear fruit, just keep putting one foot in front of the other. This too shall pass.
⚄ Advice: I know it is easier said than done, but ground yourself in the present. Release yourself from the worries of the future and the nightmares of the past. Stop stressing about upcoming due dates while you eat and stop reaming yourself for past mistakes while you’re out with friends. Tune yourself into what is happening before your very eyes.  Turn your brain off and mindlessly do something. Anything that brings your attention to the present. Don’t even worry about being productive. Watch tv, color, dance, cook, anything but sitting and stressing. This sounds crazy to say in today’s work culture but trust me, stressing about being productive or pushing yourself to “grind” will be your downfall. Your body needs to regulate. With the six of swords, you have to make the conscious decision to walk away (stop stressing and allow the situation to run its course) from what is mentally plaguing you. These are the seeds you’re sowing, you are on the path of releasing your burdens. I’m proud, we can do this!
"Mom, Meet Mary Jane the Milf!"
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(representative of the whole relax message in your pile. i had fun making the board, this is not an endorsement.)
♦︎ Pile Four ♦︎ (6oS, king of pentacles, 7oP, 5op)
⚄ Cards went a lil buckwild here. There are a lot of pentacles in this spread, I feel like you are dissolving a lack mindset. What you desire and your perspective of success is evolving. You are stepping out of a false idea of wealth. You might have had a habit of undermining the talents and resources you have and comparing them to what others have.
⚄ This is my doomscroll pile. My silly little rotters. Looking at people with nice things and thinking why can’t I have that? Looking at attractive people and going I’ll never be as pretty as them, I am cursed with these looks. Looking at people who showcase their talents and saying, oh I could never do that, they’re so much better than me.
⚄ You are realizing just how harmful these thoughts have been to you. You had curated a mindset that would have you look at people and then immediately place yourself as inferior to them in some way. This shapes a reality where you feel constantly inadequate, thus always in need of something. This constant feeling of need prevents you from seeing the resources you already have within and building off of those.
⚄ Congratulations, you are stepping away from that lack energy. You’re beginning to see the value in yourself and redefining what it means to be prosperous. Now it's, Oooo, that girl looks so cool playing the bass, this encourages me, I bet I could learn an instrument too. Instead of, “Oh look, another person doing something with their life while I sit here and rot. What is wrong with me, why can’t I be as cool as them.”
⚄ Do you see how the latter self-talk is just draining the life out of you? It sets you up for failure before you can even try. 
⚄ When I say a false idea of wealth, I mean the superficial things you believed would bring you fulfillment. When you were in that dark space, you looked at pretty girls and believed that if you looked like them or got the attention they got, you would finally be happy. Now, you’re on a journey of discovering things more sincere to your identity to find fulfillment in.
⚄ You are discovering your interests, hobbies, etc. Anything that boosts your self-esteem and gives you a sense of value. You are about to fall in love with yourself and all the endless capability of creation you hold.
⚄ Advice: Comparison is the thief of joy. Unfortunately, with social media, every day is a pissing contest about who can have the most and be the best. I’d bet money that the most attractive, smartest, and most talented person you know is sizing up the person next to them and getting a false sense of satisfaction or self-hate. Don’t fall into that. Break the societal cycle and look inward for satisfaction. Compete with yourself. Be the only person you are trying to impress.
There is beauty in my unraveling
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Let me know what piles you pick!
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rvp32 · 7 months
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The Games We Play: A Tale of Lust
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TW: Litle BDSM, edging, overstimulation, spanking, Fingering
The morning didn't kick off on the best foot; your coffee maker chose today to call it quits, depriving you of that one blessed potion that tethers your sanity and prevents you from going all rogue. But hey, the day took a turn into interesting territory when you found yourself trapped in the corner store.
Picture this: a young woman wrapped up like a mystery package from head to toe, was in full-blown panic mode, tearing her surroundings apart in search of her elusive wallet. And what's the big deal, you might ask? She was in a race against the clock, not wanting to miss a date with destiny, also known as a crucial meeting.
No need for Shakespearean monologues here. You stroll over to the cashier, cool as a cucumber, and flash your card. The cashier does her beep-boop thing, wrapping up the transaction with a flourish. Meanwhile, your attention shifts to the enigmatic woman in distress. Your lips don't even need to flex those vocal cords to convey your message, "Miss, let me cover this tab."
With a nod that could put a ballerina to shame, you collect your goods and graciously extend the bag with her belongings. It's like an unspoken understanding, a scene right out of a modern fairy tale.
Exiting the store, you're just about to slide into your trusty vehicle when a voice, as sweet as honey and warm as a summer breeze, pierces the air, "Thank you!!" It's her, the masked damsel in this retail distress. In response, your lips curl up in a smile that’s more contagious than a chuckle.
A courteous nod on your part, a grateful chirp on hers, and you’re on your way, ready to chase down whatever adventure the day's got planned for you. Just as you’re about to speed off to your meeting.
*****
The office had that early morning hush, a quiet anticipation hanging in the air as folks trickled in, not quite ready to dive into the grind just yet. You found your way to your designated corner room, plopped your stuff down, and decided to indulge in a quick social media scroll.
Just as you were lost in their world, a voice, as familiar as your heartbeat, cut through the calm. It was none other than Roh Jisun, not just a colleague, but one of your closest pals and your trusty secretary.
She raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Who got you smiling like an idiot, don't tell me you finally got yourself a girlfriend."
You chuckled, shaking your head. "Good morning to you too, Ji. You know me, I don't do the girlfriend thing. Just enjoying some highlights from the football games," you replied, setting your phone aside. "So what's on the agenda today?"
"Well, lucky for you, there isn't much on the schedule today," Jisun replied, wisely steering clear of your notoriously dry love life. "Just a meeting with an idol for a brand endorsement and some documents to review."
Your eyes lit up with excitement. "Yes! That means I can head home early today. Let me know when they arrive; I'll dive into some reference material so I don't sound like a complete idiot."
Jisun chuckled at your candidness and made her exit.
With files spread across your desk, you delved into the world of this idol selected by the marketing wizards. She was no ordinary star; she was the crème de la crème, one of the hottest idols of the current generation. Since your knowledge about idols was about as deep as a puddle, the files laid it all out for you - background info, detailed analysis, the works.
As you neared the end of the file, the section with photos, you were hit with a punch of awe. To say she was pretty was like calling a sunset 'nice.' She looked like an angel who had graced Earth, but there was an undeniable fragility about her. The images had you entranced, lost in admiration.
A polite knock at your door brought you back to reality. "Sir, the folks from Starship Entertainment are here to discuss the brand endorsement deal," Jisun reported in her professional tone. "Should I let them in?"
"Please, do," you nodded.
One by one, three individuals entered the room. And then, as if fate had a wicked sense of humor, she walked in. The same woman you'd crossed paths with at the convenience store, only now she was without her mask and hat.
"Oh, what a coincidence," you remarked, extending your hand. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Wonyoung."
Her eyes sparkled with surprise and gratitude. "It truly is! I can't believe the chances. Again, thank you so much for helping me out." Her smile could light up a city.
"Please, have a seat."
The negotiations flowed seamlessly, and everything fell into place. The deal was set, and a date was locked in for the commercial shoot. "I'm looking forward to working with you. Thanks for your cooperation. Here's to this reaching the heights we're hoping for."
As they left, you settled back in your chair. But a mere moment later, there was a knock on your door, followed by Wonyoung's head peeping in.
"Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Wonyoung?" you inquired, curious about her return.
"I want to thank you for helping me out today, so please let me treat you to dinner," Wonyoung offered.
"Alright, just let me know when and where to pick you up," you replied, raising an eyebrow at the surprise on Wonyoung's face. "That was easier than I expected. Can I get your phone number? You know, to text you the details."
A sly smirk played on your lips as you motioned for her to come closer. She hesitated for a moment before approaching, maintaining eye contact without saying a word.
"You know, Miss Wonyoung, I need your phone to input my number, unless you've got a photographic memory," you teased, causing a blush to creep up on her cheeks. She fumbled for her phone in her handbag, and you deftly entered your number. Handing her phone back to her, you remarked, "It's a bad habit to stare at someone, Miss Wonyoung."
"I'm really sorry, I didn't realize I was staring. I'll text you the details. See you then," Wonyoung practically bolted out of your office.
Shortly after, Jisun walked in, her voice carrying a hint of sternness. "What was all that about? What did you say to make that angel run away?"
"Calm down, Ji. I just teased her a little. She wanted to thank me for helping her," you replied casually, not missing a beat as you continued to read the documents.
"You'll never change. Why does she want to thank you?" Jisun inquired, curious about the situation.
So you recounted the whole story about your chance encounter with Wonyoung. Jisun burst into laughter and commented, "Wow, it truly is an incredible coincidence."
You returned to your documents, but something else was occupying your thoughts, or rather, someone. Regardless of what the papers said, your mind kept drifting back to the interaction with Wonyoung. Her subtle nervous movements, the way she blushed at your teasing, and the pure excitement in her eyes when you agreed to her proposition—it all danced in your thoughts, like an enchanting melody that refused to fade.
After a few painstaking hours of wading through and approving a mountain of documents, you'd finally conquered the pile Jisun had left on your desk. Packing up your laptop, you decided it was high time to replace that dearly departed coffee machine. Strolling through the store, your gaze was momentarily captivated by a Pepsi ad featuring none other than Wonyoung's larger-than-life cut-out. You couldn't help but admire her beauty for a few seconds before shaking off the distraction and making your way to the appliances section.
With a new coffee machine in tow, you headed back home. It only took a couple of minutes to set up the shiny new addition to your kitchen. Eager to wash away the day's toil and dust, you headed for the shower. There, amidst the soothing cascade of water, your thoughts inevitably drifted back to Wonyoung and the unexpected events of the day.
The cold shower did wonders to invigorate both your mind and body. Afterward, you settled onto the couch and noticed a message from an unknown number. It was Wonyoung, inquiring if you would be free tomorrow evening. You quickly replied, confirming your availability.
Within moments, another message popped up, this time with a reservation at a well-established restaurant. You didn't argue with her choice and appreciated her initiative. With the dinner plans set, you wandered into the kitchen to prepare your meal for the day. Tonight, it was a simple yet delicious dish: rose pasta with grilled chicken thighs on the side.
Having savored your homemade dinner, you retreated to your cozy corner, book in hand. The words on the pages wove a soothing lullaby, and before you knew it, you had surrendered to the embrace of sleep, calling it a day.
********
The day seemed to fly by, yet the thought of Wonyoung lingered in your mind like an intoxicating poison. Numerous scenarios involving her had taken root in your thoughts, and it was fair to say that most of them were far from what people might expect. What you realized was that your attraction to Wonyoung wasn't of the romantic variety. It was something deeper, something about the way she seemed fragile and innocent that piqued your interest and stirred a side of you that rarely saw the light of day. 
 As the day drew to a close, it was finally time to pick up Wonyoung. Arriving at her house, you sent her a quick text to let her know you'd arrived. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Wonyoung in a stunning black off-the-shoulder dress.
"Good evening, Miss Wonyoung," you greeted with a warm smile, holding the car door open for her. "You look absolutely beautiful."
"Good evening," she replied with a soft smile. "You're quite dashing yourself, Mr. CEO." With a final exchange of smiles, you closed the door and headed to the driver's seat. 
"How was your day? I hope it wasn't too tiring," you asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you as you drove.
"It was relaxing, honestly," Wonyoung replied with a smile that lit up the car. "It was my first day off in a while, so I finally got some good rest."
"That sounds wonderful. I apologize for monopolizing your precious free time then. I hope I can keep you entertained," you quipped, trying to tease her a bit.
Wonyoung's blush deepened, but she met your gaze with sincerity. "No, not at all. You seem like a very interesting person, and I would love to spend time with you."
Her direct response caught you off guard, and you found yourself momentarily at a loss for words. "That's very kind of you," you finally managed to reply, a genuine smile gracing your lips. "I look forward to getting to know you better as well. Maybe we can be friends."
You noticed a subtle change in Wonyoung's demeanor, her smile fading ever so slightly after your last comment, but you decided not to dwell on it. "What do you like to do during your free time, Miss Wonyoung?" you inquired, attempting to steer the conversation in a different direction.
"Please call me Wonyoung, you don't need to be so formal with me," she replied with a warm smile. "I love to read, hike, and watch shows," she added, her gaze wandering around the interior of the car.
"Alright, Wonyoung," you said with a playful twinkle in your eye. "Reading, hiking, and shows, huh? Sounds like you've got a nice mix of hobbies. Any recent favorites?"
She leaned back in her seat, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Well, I just finished a gripping mystery novel that had me up all night. And as for hiking, there's this trail I love near my place. It's so serene and peaceful."
You nodded, genuinely intrigued. "A mystery lover, huh? Any recommendations? I might need some new reads."
Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Oh, definitely! I'll text you a list. And speaking of recommendations, any favorite shows or movies on your end?"
You chuckled, realizing you might be in for some teasing. "Well, lately I've been into documentaries a lot more than shows.."
She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. "I guess I was wrong about you being interesting."
You both shared a laugh, and the car seemed to hum with a newfound camaraderie. As the evening unfolded, you discovered more about each other's quirks, interests, and shared laughter. The chemistry between you was undeniable, with a hint of flirting and teasing that only added to the intrigue of your blossoming relationship.
The drive seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, even though it had been nearly half an hour. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and you found yourself thoroughly enjoying Wonyoung's company. Arriving at the restaurant, you helped her out of the car. However, as you made your way toward the entrance, she stumbled, and instinctively, you reached out to prevent her from falling.
In that brief, heart-stopping moment, your eyes locked, and the air between you thickened with an undeniable tension. It was as if an electric current passed between you, and before you knew it, she leaned in, and your lips met in a kiss that felt heavenly, charged with a depth of feeling that took you both by surprise.
Her lips tasted divine, and as you pulled her closer, your mind wandered to places that were vastly different from the sweetness of the moment. Desires and tastes that diverged from the mainstream public swirled in your thoughts, and it shook you to your core. You pushed her away, breaking the kiss abruptly.
Wonyoung's shock was evident in her doe-like eyes, now brimming with tears. "Wonyoung, we shouldn't do this," you stammered, your voice strained with difficulty. "I'm not the right person for you. You deserve someone better. I'm not the person you think I am."
Deep down, you yearned for more, to ravish those heavenly lips and her enchanting body. But you knew, for both your sakes, this path was fraught with complications you didn’t want to put her through because it would destroy her innocence.
"Wait, are you gay? I'm so sorry; I should have been more careful. Please forget this ha—" Wonyoung began, but you cut her off before she could finish her sentence. "No, I'm not gay," you replied. "It's just that I have certain... something else. Let's just get dinner, and I'll show you what I mean afterward," you said, hoping to evade the topic.
Walking towards the restaurant, with Wonyoung following closely, her curiosity got the better of her, and she pestered you with questions. "Tell me what it is. It can't be that bad, I'm pretty open-minded. Please tell me; I'm so curious!"
You shot her a stern glare that left her looking shocked, but she quickly pushed back. "That glare isn't going to shut me up. So tell me what it is, and I'll shut up."
Before you could respond, the waitress arrived to take your order. You ordered for both of you without giving Wonyoung a chance to continue her line of questioning. As she filled the water glasses, you placed one in front of Wonyoung and instructed, "Drink it." She did so without protest.
"If you aren't going to tell me, at least let me guess, and you just say yes or no," Wonyoung suggested, her curiosity undiminished.
Wonyoung's questions came one after another, each one prying into the mysterious aspect of your life. You responded with straightforward "yes" or "no" answers, hoping to keep the conversation from delving too deep.
"Are you a criminal?" she inquired.
"No."
"Does it have something to do with your sexuality?"
"No."
"Do you have any medical issues?" Her gaze traveled in an unexpected direction.
"What? No, I'm perfectly healthy!" you retorted, feeling a bit flustered.
"Is it something related to your preferences in bed?" she ventured.
This time, you simply nodded.
Her response was unexpected, a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Oh, spicy. Are you perhaps into BDSM and power dynamics?"
Although you didn't verbalize a confirmation, your expression said it all. You were taken aback by how quickly she pieced it together.
"Oh my god, I can't believe I got it so fast," she exclaimed. However, her lack of further comment left you in an awkward silence, uncertain about how she truly felt about your revelation. It seemed she either felt uncomfortable discussing it or maybe had her own reasons for not pursuing the topic further.
Before you could say anything more, the food arrived, and you decided not to probe any further, not wanting to spoil the mood any further.
As the meal continued, you couldn't help but notice that Wonyoung wasn't eating properly. Her playful approach to her food caught your attention. "Wonyoung, eat properly. Don't play with your food," you advised, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum in the restaurant.
Wonyoung responded with a mischievous smirk. "What if I don't want to?" she teased, her words carrying a hint of suggestion. "Are you going to punish me for being a bad girl, Daddy?"
Her remark left you momentarily flustered and choking on the food, a rush of thoughts and desires flooding your mind. You quickly regained your composure, though, and tried to steer the conversation back to safer territory. "Let's just enjoy our meal," you suggested, hoping to quell the tension that had unexpectedly arisen.
The rest of the dinner passed in silence, the earlier tension still lingering in the air. Wonyoung had insisted on paying the bill as a gesture of thanks, but you had already settled it before she could reach for her wallet.
"I was supposed to treat you as a thank you!" she protested.
You brushed off her protests with a gentle smile. "Consider it my way of saying thank you for entertaining me."
The two of you left the restaurant, and Wonyoung followed closely as you made your way back to the car. The silence continued, hanging heavily between you. Then, out of the blue, Wonyoung broke it with words you never expected to hear from her pretty lips.
"I want to experience how you control others. How you will fuck me and make me beg"
The shock of her words hit you like a jolt of electricity, causing you to slam on the brakes and bring the car to a sudden stop at the side of the empty road.
Locking eyes with Wonyoung, you delivered your words with a firm and almost grave tone. "No, you don't," you asserted. "The things I do aren't like what you watch in movies. And even if you were serious about this, I don't believe your fragile body could handle it. Pretty things can be easily broken if not taken care of. What I do doesn't show much care for you; it would push both your mind and body to the limit."
Your words were a serious cautionary note, aimed at changing her thoughts and preventing her from a path that held potential danger and discomfort.
Wonyoung's smirk persisted, and a playful tone danced in her voice. "'I'm not as fragile as you think I am. Moreover, I don't believe you have what it takes to break me, Daddy,'" she quipped, her words filled with a hint of teasing. "On a more serious note, I honestly think you're all talk. There's no way you can actually make someone beg."
Wonyoung's taunting and challenging tone persisted as you continued the drive. She seemed entirely unshaken by the gravity of the topic, and her curiosity was piqued.
"So, Mr. CEO," she continued, her voice laced with playful skepticism, "are you saying you can make someone beg for your control? You must have some secret weapon or technique, right?"
Your eyes remained fixed on the road, and you responded, your tone still cautious. "It's not about a secret weapon or technique, Wonyoung. It's about understanding boundaries, trust, and consent. It's not something to be taken lightly."
Wonyoung, however, seemed determined to push your buttons further. "Boundaries, trust, and consent? Those sound so boring and safe. Where's the excitement in that?"
You let out a sigh, recognizing that she was testing your resolve. "There's a difference between excitement and recklessness. What I do, or rather, what I've explored in the past, is not a game. It's a realm that requires responsibility and understanding, especially when it comes to the well-being of all parties involved."
Wonyoung leaned back in her seat, a challenging glint in her eye. "I still don't buy it, Mr. CEO. You'll have to prove it to me."
Wonyoung's taunting continued unabated, and it was clear that she was enjoying pushing your boundaries. She leaned closer, her tone dripping with mischief. "Come on, Mr. CEO, don't be so serious. Show me what you've got. Make me beg or are you going to be a coward and run away?"
Your grip on the steering wheel tightened as you felt the tension in the car reach a boiling point. You had tried to warn her, to convey the gravity of what she was asking, but she seemed intent on testing you.
Finally, unable to contain your frustration any longer, you slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a sudden halt by the side of the road. Without thinking, your hands found their way to Wonyoung's throat, fingers pressing firmly against her delicate skin. The shock in her eyes mirrored your own as you choked out the words, "You have no idea what you're asking for, Wonyoung." She releases a small moan.
The moment hung in the air, charged with a dangerous energy, and you realized that you had crossed a line you couldn't uncross. Wonyoung's playful taunts had ignited something within you, a darkness you had long kept in check. 
Your responsibilities, your reputation, and everything else faded into insignificance as you drove to your house, your mind consumed by a primal desire. Once you stepped inside, there was no turning back. You pulled Wonyoung with you, and in the dimly lit hallway, you pinned her forcefully against the wall.
Your hand gripped her throat, and the other held her wrists firmly above her head. The room seemed to close in around you both as you whispered into her ears, your voice laced with a warning and a final chance for her to bail out. "Is this what you wanted, Wonyoung? This is your last chance. After this, there's no turning back."
The intensity in your eyes burned as you awaited her response, the gravity of the moment weighing heavily on both of you.  
“Yes, This is what I wanted, for you to restrain me and have your way with me,” Wonyoung says, her eyes filled with determination, to experience what it feels like to let someone have complete control over what happens to your body.
You immediately kiss her, the kiss unlike last time was harsh, filled with lust. Both your tongues exploring each other's mouths. Sliding a knee in between her legs causes her to moan into the kiss. 
Wonyoung grinds on your thighs, enjoying the friction. You let go of her throat and hands, now exploring her body but ending up on her ass, squeezing it and feeling her stiffen up with the contact. 
Breaking away from the kiss you pull Wonyoung toward the room that you kept locked away from everyone. Wonyoung followed obediently. Once the door is open you push Wonyoung into the room and she falls onto the bed. 
“Take off your clothes,” It wasn’t a request but a command that Wonyoung obeyed. Watching her remove her dress was like watching a movie unfold, it slowly got better. Now she was in her bra and panties. 
“Kneel,” After Wonyoung's obedient response, you left the room momentarily to get changed. The air was heavy with anticipation, and every moment seemed to stretch. 
You returned to the room, your presence felt as you stood behind Wonyoung. Your fingers began to braid her long and silky hair, a soothing and intimate gesture that contrasted with the intensity of the situation.
As you worked on her hair, you explained the dynamics of what was to come. "This is how it's going to go," you began, your voice firm yet reassuring. "You do everything I tell you to. If you do well, then I will reward you, and if you don't, you get punished. It's simple, isn't it?"
Wonyoung nodded, her trust in you evident. But you had one more important thing to convey. "One more thing," you added, your voice softening with genuine concern. "If at any point you think you can't handle something, say the color red. Everything that we're doing will stop immediately, and I will make sure you are fine. Your safety and well-being are my top priority."
With these words, you set the boundaries and the rules, ensuring that this journey would be a consensual and mutually satisfying experience for both of you. 
With a gentle kiss on Wonyoung's neck, you left her in a state of heightened anticipation, a mix of confusion and excitement swirling within her. She could hear your movements but couldn't predict what would come next.
When you returned, it was with a blindfold in your hand. Placing it delicately over her eyes, you obscured her vision, taking away her ability to see. The loss of sight heightened her other senses, making her acutely aware of every sound, touch, and sensation. It also added an element of unpredictability, deepening the intrigue and excitement of what was to come in this shared exploration.
In the dimly lit room, a tremor of excitement ran through you. Here, within these four walls, everything was under your control. It was an opportunity to satisfy a desire that had remained hidden from the world, a longing that had been kept secret. The urge to witness vulnerability, to see tears, and to have someone willingly surrender themselves to your complete mercy had always been there, lurking beneath the surface.
With every breath, every whispered command, and every touch, you were stepping into the territory you had long kept locked away. 
With a firm but controlled grip on the newly braided hair, you pulled Wonyoung up and whispered into her ear, your voice dripping with stern intent. "I'm going to make you regret every single word you said during the car ride, Princess."
Wonyoung shivered in response, the weight of your words sinking in, a mixture of anticipation and fear coursing through her.  
Wonyoung yelped in surprise as you pushed her onto the bed, and her heart raced with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. She had entered a realm of unknown sensations and desires, and the anticipation of what would happen next was palpable.
The sound of your footsteps drew her attention, and she turned her head in your direction. As you joined her on the silk, a hard slap landed on her cute butt.*Yelp* It was a sharp, stinging sensation that sent a jolt of electricity through her, awakening new sensations and desires that she had only begun to explore. 
Slowly unclasping her bra, you squeeze her ass and give it a couple of spanks. Wonyoung is now whimpering. “Spank yourself, Princess, it better be hard, I want to see your handprint on that cute ass of yours,” Leaving Wonyoung by herself, you grab a pair of leather handcuffs. 
Your tone shifted from stern to gentle as you cooed comforting words to Wonyoung. "That's enough," you murmured soothingly. "You did such a good job, princess, such a good girl."
With a reassuring touch, you grabbed both of her hands and cuffed them, ensuring they were secured firmly, making it clear that she wouldn't be able to escape from your grasp. 
You introduced a new element to the unfolding scene, a game that would both challenge and please. With a commanding tone, you explained the rules to Wonyoung. "Now let's play a game," you began, your voice unwavering. "For every slap, you will count and apologize for being a brat."
Wonyoung nodded in compliance, but you demanded more. "Use your words, princess. You are a human, after all, aren't you?"
With a submissive "Yes, sir," she complied.
The first slap landed firmly, and Wonyoung counted, "1, I'm sorry for being a brat." You repeated the action, the impact slightly harder, and she continued, "2, I'm sorry for being a brat." The third strike came down, causing her to gasp with a mix of pain and arousal. "Ah!! 3, I'm sorry for being a brat."
Satisfied that she had apologized sufficiently, you reached for a glass of ice on the bedside table. Taking an ice cube, you placed it on the sensitive area where she had been struck. The sudden coldness against her heated skin made her gasp and squirm, but you held her firmly in place, introducing a thrilling contrast of sensations to the experience.
With a practiced ease, you flipped Wonyoung's petite body around, exposing her erect nipples and toned midriff. The anticipation in the room was palpable as you continued to explore the depths of desire between you.
Grabbing another ice cube, you placed it delicately on her left nipple, the sudden coldness on the sensitive spot causing Wonyoung to instinctively bring her hands down from above her head. But you were swift, catching her hands and placing them back where they belonged.
Taking the ice cube into your mouth, you traced a tantalizing path around her left mound, ensuring no part of her was left without attention. You moved to her right nipple, repeating the same maddeningly slow and sensual exploration while simultaneously pinching and playing with the other one.
Wonyoung's voice filled the room, a chorus of pleasure and desire escaping her lips as her body squirmed uncontrollably. Her legs rubbed together in a desperate attempt to find some relief from the various sensations that were overwhelming her senses, aching for release and satisfaction.
You continued your teasing exploration, trailing the ice cube slowly toward Wonyoung's belly button, relishing in the way her back curved from the heightened sensitivity. The room was filled with an electrifying tension, desire mounting with every passing moment.
Finally, you removed the one piece of clothing that was drenched, a clear indication of how excited Wonyoung had become. The ice cube hovered just above the spot that begged for the most attention. A simple act of blowing air on her very wet core caused Wonyoung to moan in desperation.
"Please," she managed to say, her mind clouded to the point where forming a coherent sentence was a challenge.
But you weren't ready to make it easy for her. "Please what, Princess?" you teased, relishing in her vulnerability.
Her face flushed with embarrassment, and she brought her hands down to cover it as she stammered, "Please touch me there."
You continued to push her boundaries, enjoying the game of control and surrender that had enveloped you both, as you whispered, "You have to be more specific, Princess. I've been touching you the entire time."
Wonyoung's initial response was mumbled and unclear, but when you demanded she speak louder, she screamed, "I want you to touch my pussy, please. I need it!"
Granting her request, you gently played with the swollen nub, eliciting a sharp reaction as her toes curled with the newfound sensation. After some tender foreplay, you decided to take it further, inserting one finger into her. Wonyoung's moans grew louder, her arousal undeniable.
Using your free hand to continue playing with her sensitive nub, you slowly pumped your finger in and out, savoring every sound and reaction she made.
But Wonyoung's desire burned fiercely, and she begged for more. "More, please. I need more," she pleaded, her voice dripping with need. "Please put one more finger or eat me out, please!"
You couldn't resist teasing her a bit more. "Such a needy slut," you taunted, delivering a slap to her pussy that made her scream. "Only good girls get to make demands."
Desperate and on the edge, Wonyoung responded fervently, "I'm your good girl, Daddy. Please give me more. I need it so badly."
With a sense of control that heightened the intensity of the moment, you decided to edge Wonyoung, not once, but four times. Each time, you brought her right to the precipice of release and then denied her the ultimate satisfaction. It was an exquisite torture that pushed her desire to its limits.
The first time you edged her, her moans filled the room as you skillfully brought her to the brink, only to stop just when she thought she couldn't take it any longer. "Please," she begged, her voice filled with desperation. "Please, Daddy, let me come. I need it so much."
But you were relentless, and the second time you edged her was even more intense. Wonyoung's body quivered as she teetered on the edge of release, her pleas growing more urgent. "Please, please, I can't take it anymore. Please, let me come. I'll do anything."
The third time you edged her, her cries of frustration and longing filled the room. "Daddy, please," she whimpered, her body trembling with need. "I'll be a good girl, I promise. Just let me come."
But you denied her once again, pushing her to the limits of desire. The fourth time you edged her, Wonyoung was a writhing, desperate mess. "Please, Daddy," she sobbed, her voice cracking with need. "I need it so badly. Please, please, let me come. I'll do anything you want."
With your words of encouragement, you leaned down and moved closer to Wonyoung's ear, your breath hot against her skin. "Go ahead," you whispered sensually, "show me how much you needed it, show me what a slut you are!"
Nibbling on her ear, you continued your passionate ministrations, pushing her closer to the edge. Wonyoung finally let go, surrendering to the pleasure she had begged for and needed so desperately. Her back arched, her body trembled, and a stream of liquid gushed out, staining the perfect silk sheets beneath her. 
Without giving her much time to recover, you immediately take out your cock and position yourself in front of her freshly used pussy. As you slowly move in, wonyoung’s body reacts to your cock by screaming and tightening around it. She was very tight, almost like this was her first time. 
“Wait, slow down, please. I am so sensitive, Daddy, please! Wait!” Wonyoung pleads and you agree. Once she nods signaling that she is ready you continue till you bottom out. 
“Oh God, you are filling me up so well” Wonyoung manages to say in between moans.
“Princess, can I start moving now?” You ask because you can no longer hold back. Wonyoung makes eye contact with you through the mirror across from the bed and says “Yes, Daddy”
With her permission you begin pounding like there is no tomorrow, Wonyoung responds with nothing but moans and occasional screams when you hit her sweet spot. Her moans are like melodies you will never get tired of hearing. Playing with her clit as you pound her push her over the edge as she orgasms again, “Fuck! Daddy!” Wonyoung screams. 
Even though Wonyoung had reached her orgasm you continued to pound her tight pussy. “Please, please, too much, Daddy!” The overstimulation frying up nerves in her brain and sending her to a mental state she never knew she could possibly achieve. 
Wonyoung brings her hands to stop you from moving but you grab them, her eyes rolled back and back arched as you continue pounding. “DADDY NOOO!” 
“This is your punishment, baby, who said you could cum? This is your punishment!” You grunt as you put more force into the thrusts Every thrust sends waves of pleasure through Wonyoung’s body. 
“AGH, GOD!!” Wonyoung screams she starts to mumble things that you can no longer understand, you continue to chase after your orgasm. 
“Where do you want me to cum, Princess?” You ask as you reach closer to your peak. 
“I-inside, Daddy” Wonyoung manages to say in between her loud moans. 
“Fuck baby, Daddy is going to cum in your tight pussy,” You grunt,
“Yes, Daddy fill me up, I need to feel that warm cum in my pussy please!” finally Wonyoung manages to form a coherent sentence. With her explicit consent, you unload the biggest load of your life in Wonyoung’s pussy. 
“Fuck, Princess that felt so good, You were such a good girl, my lovely princess,” you say after you envelop her in a hug and place a kiss on her forehead. 
“Yes it was, I never knew pleasure could be so intense!” Wonyoung said as you pet her hair. Silence fell in the room but Wonyoung said “This is just the beginning right?”
Realizing how insatiable Wonyoung is and how good the sex is, you reply “ Yes, Princess. From today onwards you belong to me, you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy, I love the way you touched me. I need your touch, it's intoxicating and addicting” Wonyoung says as she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck. 
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Kafkaesque
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Summary: On the flight back home, Spencer and Reader exchange books to read, and Spencer is surprised by your selection.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Funny, fluff-ish
Content warnings: Franz Kafka (i like him but whatever)
Word count: 1k
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The team is on the jet heading back to Quantico after yet another successful case was solved. The tensions of a stressful arrest started to quell as only clusters of city light started to become their only view for the rest of the flight. Morgan has already passed out listening to music, taking up two seats for himself, while Hotch, Emily, Rossi, and J.J. stay occupied by playing poker. Their banter filled the cabin along with the sound of shuffling cards, and actual chips were exchanged instead of poker chips.
You and Spencer, on the other hand, decided this was the perfect time for reading. You had been discussing the idea of exchanging books to get each other’s opinion, since you two are the only consistent readers among your colleagues (and also because Spencer’s banned from playing poker for cheating (again)).
You only briefly got to start each other’s selection before landing, but now there was plenty of time to cross some of the short stories of Sherlock Holmes off your TBR. Considering you were reading in the same space, you expected this to be more of a challenge. Because Spencer is a fast reader. A notoriously fast reader. To the point where Hotch has prevented him from reading while questioning witnesses. The speed at which he combs through books knocks off their focus. You’ve seen it yourself, so much that it’s not as funny as it was when you started here.
Nevertheless, you explore the world of Sherlock Holmes. As you turned the pages, you marveled at the intricacies of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s storytelling. The deductive prowess of Holmes and the vivid depiction of Victorian London transport you to another time and place. Andrew Scott’s charismatic portrayal of Moriarty in the TV adaptation flickered through your mind, though you wisely kept that observation to yourself. Last time, Spencer gave a passionate lecture on the discrepancies between books and television adaptations, citing difference in attention spans, and you had no desire to open that can of worms again.
Amid the familiar hushed ambiance of the cabin, you felt a familiar sensation—the piercing gaze of someone fixated on you. It was a feeling you had grown accustomed to, whether it was the malevolent eyes of criminals from afar of the intense scrutiny across an interrogation table. You tore your attention away from the pages of your book to meet Spencer’s eyes. His expression was contemplative, yet he was less than a third through the book.
“Wanna trade already?” You asked, breaking the silence.
“No, no,” Spencer replied, his lips pursed as he continued to study you.
You raised a brow. “Any questions I could answer?”
“How did you come across him?” He held up your book, “The Complete Short Stories” by Franz Kafka.
“Oh,” you shrugged, “just those angsty high school years, you know?”
Spencer’s nose wrinkled at that. No, he, in fact, did not know what you meant. Because he wasn’t old enough to have angsty high school years. And if he did have any at all, they would have been during college—neither period of his life he cared to recall.
“You’ve seriously never picked up Franz Kafka?” You asked him. “You? Spencer Reid? The equivalent of a human encyclopedia?”
“Only some of his short stories were used for college lectures.”
“Okay.” You feigned a laugh. “So what’s the problem?”
“What was your childhood like, Y/N?”
Your face widened in shock before a sly smirk emerged. “Are you seriously profiling me because of my favorite author? That’s absurd!” The urge to playfully smack him surfaced, but the goodness of your heart made you resist (also because this isn’t your book you’re holding). “Kafka enthusiasts come in all forms, you know. Like everybody else.”
“He’s your favorite author?” Spencer chuckled, still very surprised.
You nodded. “And what about it?”
“You’re just so… happy all the time.”
You cocked your head to the side. A small laugh slipped out as you said, “Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Reid. Should I have brought ‘The Adventures of Strawberry Shortcake’ to help maintain your image of me?”
“No! I mean…” Your shared laughter briefly interrupted his train of thought. “It’s just not what I expected from you.”
“Hm.” You settled back in your seat, opening the book to where your thumb rested between the pages. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” You’re ready to get back to reading, but you still look at Spencer.
His eyes sparkled, and the curiosity of something becoming more complex than intended makes his brain run for miles. “Perhaps I don’t.”
As the jet continued its steady course back to Quantico, you and Spencer settled into cozy companionship, growing more familiar with each trip. The ambiance remained peaceful, with the faint hum of the engines serving as soothing background noise for your literary exploration.
You find yourself engrossed in the world of Sherlock Holmes once more, relishing in the intricate puzzles and razor-sharp deductions. Andrew Scott continued to dance in your mind from time to time, a testament to the power of well-crafted adaptations (excluding season four. You never told Spencer there was a fourth season).
You were also increasingly aware of Spencer’s presence beside you. Instead of the prickling sensation of having eyes on you, his knee brushed lightly against yours, sending tingles through your body, along with zero doubt it was accidental, considering this guy hesitates to shake hands. He still took the time to look at you after some moments of reading, as if he were deducing what certain Kafka works in that book could mean to you exactly. He flipped through the pages—actually reading—like he would find the answers.
You heard him swallow. “So, uh, why is he a roach in this one?”
“Because that’s how he feels.” You knocked your knee against him this time. “Just keep reading, Spencer. We’ll discuss it after.”
You watched him bite his lips closed as he tried to suppress a smile.
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mellowwillowy · 1 month
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Yandere who tricked you into debt with each game you played against him. You really shouldn't have involved yourself with the shady bastard who refers to himself as a 'Sponsor'.
You had always been intrigued by the mysterious man referred to as the 'Sponsor'. He lured you into a dangerous world of games and debts, ensnaring you in his web of manipulation. He promised lucrative rewards and fame, a high-risk high-reward game yet each time you played against him, he would trick you into incurring more debts with every loss.
His games were rigged against you and each game you played brought you further into debt. Now, he had you exactly where he wanted you – in a position of desperation and with no way out.
His slender fingers lightly stroked your arm, his touch like a whisper of poisoned air. You had just lost a hand of poker against him, a swift defeat caused by his royal flush against your full house. With a sickeningly sweet cooing tone in his voice, he gripped your face by the cheeks, his nails digging into your flesh.
"I thoroughly enjoyed our game, but did you?" He asked in a mocking tone, his eyes sneering and uncaring at the way you trembled against his touch and tone.
You tried to shake him off, or at least pull your face away, but his grip was tight and firm. His maroon eyes gazed into yours, unblinking and unrelenting. With a shivering lip, you snarled at him through gritted teeth; "Curse you, you fraud."
A curse in retaliation instead of a plea, it truly amused the 'Sponsor'.
In a split second, you were pinned beneath him, your back hitting the poker table. The impact of the collision knocked the air out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for breath. While you were still gasping for air, his face was now inches away from your neck. His tongue licked a stripe up from your now forcibly exposed collarbone to your jaw, sending a shudder of revulsion through you.
"I really like you," he whispered, his breath hot and heavy on your skin before he added, "You never fail to show me just how shallow you can be."
Right before he could bite your neck, you managed to thrash free from his iron grip and elbowed him right on the face. He staggered back, rubbing his red cheek in shock. His eyes blinked at you in an empty daze once, twice.
As he regained his bearings, his eyes flickered into a familiar teal hue. Erickson's teal eyes came back to focus and he broke into a laugh.
"Why, I just enjoyyyy teaching disobedient pups like you." The veins on his neck stood out, and though he tried to feign politeness in his tone, the scrunched-up brows betrayed him.
"Stupid mutt," he spat the words out, his fingernails digging deeper into your cheek, threatening to tear it open.
"You should have just behaved and I'll let you live as a pampered cat thoroughly." Your struggles only seemed to excite him further, tightening his grip on your cheek and raising his other palm threateningly.
Just before Erickson could slap you, a man held Erickson in place, preventing him from landing the blow. "How much is their debt?" He inquired, his tone dripping with indifference.
Both men locked eyes, maroon against teal, both of them resembling each other quite a lot if not for their physical stature.
"And what do you think you are doing, Noel?" Erickson asked, his head cocked to the side. To your surprise, he didn't seem to mind the interference.
"I am here to sever them from you debt-wise," the man who you assumed to be Noel replied, his other hand motioning like the blade of a guillotine falling down.
Erickson barked into a laugh before he decided to let you go. He gave Noel a theatrical head shake, "Why of course, why not ask this little mutt how much they owe me?"
Noel walked over to you and helped you rise to both feet, his maroon eyes bore into yours, the answer was obvious.
Upon hearing the ridiculous amount of your debt, Noel's brows scrunched as he pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated. Erickson merely smirked and shuffled the playing card, seemingly enjoying the show.
Moments of silence passed, except for Erickson's whistling.
"I'll loan you the fund for you to gamble with me. It'll be half of your debt and you are to play against me to pay off your debt."
Erickson raised both of his eyebrows before laughing again, this time in a mocking manner.
"Aren't you lucky, mutt? You got yourself a 'Sponsor'."
"If you are worried about losing and falling into a larger pool of debt, then rest assured because I guarantee you that it will end with your victory." "And how do we gamble for it?" Noel held out his right hand, "As simple as rock, paper, and scissors."
You tilted your head, a curious expression tinted with suspicion on your face, "What's the catch?" "You'll have to play paper against my rock twice. That's the catch." Erickson smirked, a mocking gaze twinkling in his eyes as he interfered, "No," Erickson's fair face twisted into a mocking smile, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What's the catch, dearest brother?"
"... You'll have to pay your debt off and stay away from gambling for as long as you are still under my wings."
****
It ended in a swift victory. Noel kept his end of the deal well, allowing you to pocket a large sum of money, which you promptly passed on to Erickson to clear your debt.
You believed that you had reached a happy ending, having successfully cleared your debt.
Erickson pocketed the cheques and elbowed his brother from behind, his lips curling into a smirk.
However, your sense of ease quickly dissolved, the momentary relief was dampened as Erickson turned around and spoke to you.
"I suppose it's time for you to pay up."
You looked at Erickson dumbfounded, "What?"
Erickson simply folded his hand and cocked one of his eyebrows, "Pay up what you owe."
"I have paid off my debt on you, what the fuck do I owe to you again?"
If you had a cent for every time Erickson laughed, you would indeed be filthy rich. He was still cackling with his arms wrapped around his stomach, folded into a laughing mess, apparently finding something very funny about your plight.
You looked on in confusion as Erickson continued to laugh. After another moment, his thumb pointed to your 'Sponsor'.
"Not me you silly head," he stated, "but him."
It is suffocating. "I never stated that it was an interest-free loan."
Has this man always been the devil in a saint robe? "And you are not allowed to gamble to earn the money you owe me. Not for as long as you are still under his wings. Kha-ha! I really want to help you but that's what you get for striking a deal with the saint."
The devil and fallen saint had captured its lover through collusion.
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thesirencult · 4 months
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Pick A Card : Your Inner Goddess
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"How would you behave if you knew you were a God or Goddess? How would you treat yourself, how would you treat others? What kind of consciousness would you hold about your smallest actions if you knew their effects influenced the rest of creation? If your awakenings could bring joy to the multitudes? What kind of mindfulness would that inspire?"
- Anodea Judith, Eastern Body, Western Mind: Psychology and the Chakra System as a Path to the Self
Within each woman there lies a Goddess. Within you there lies a force to be reckoned with.
She awaits the moment you find her and she awakes.
Take the messages with a grain of salt. First and foremost trust your intuition and your inner Goddess...
Within each pile you will find what your inner goddess craves, how you can service her and what's holding her back.
Pile 1
The Hierophant, The Sun, The Empress
Your inner Goddess is craving warmth and care. A daring little lady she is. She reminds me of P!nk in the music video of U+Ur Hand.
She is sitting pretty with her book and she is not easily impressed. Maybe because she can do EVERYTHING she puts her heart and soul into. Very wise and commanding, yet feminine and seductive.
Your inner Goddess wants you to realize that you deserve abundance and happiness. You need to work on your Solar Plexus. I get that I should also talk to you about your adrenals. You have been hustling for a long time and the Goddess wants you to sit your pretty booty down and take a moment to breathe and realize that you are right on time. Go get it panther!
Pile 2
The Fool, The Star
Wow. This is a very airy energy. Your inner Goddess is here to see and experience everything. She loves being vulnerable and wants to push you out of your comfort zone.
She dares to dream about a better future and she wants to tell you that if you don't dream it and belive it you mights as well not even try.
Just do it, she says, and dives straight out the cliff. She always manages to survive and those negative voices feel jealous that the "naive" Goddess makes the best decisions right on the spot. Trust your intuition and inner Wisdom.
Pile 3
3 Of Cups, The Star, 10 Of Swords, Queen Of Wands
I don't know why, but your inner Goddess gives me "black cat energy" or Scorpio energy. She is that seductive voice that whispers "do it now, analyze it later".
She is affectionate and loves a good foot rub. Your inner Goddess has been through it. She has been accompanying you for SEVERAL lifetimes and she could have been the black cat to your Cleopatra back in ancient Egypt.
I feel like we should not play around with this one cause she might whip us up. Lol. Your inner Goddess comes out during "playtime" if you know what I mean. Look at your Lilith cause she is a lot like that placement in your chart. Alien yet homely. She can be either a storm or a beautiful river. Beware, she scratches anyone that dares hurt you. Payback's a bitch, so is Mrs. Catwoman here.
P.S. Get that sexy leather bra and that rose tattoo. Tie up your man/woman and have fun ! xoxo.
Pile 4
4 Of Cups, The Chariot
Hello brat! No worries, we can all be brats sometimes *wink,wink*.
Little lady, your inner Goddess is FED UP. She is a go getter and she is done watching you be a pessimist. She wants you to get some fuel into this fire.
Your Venus sign can be indicative of what your inner Goddess is like. She is pretty private and this can indicate issues with how you express her energy. All in all, she comes up when you think of what makes you grateful ! Feed her!
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yandere-sins · 1 month
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Yandere!Aventurine who takes jewelry from corpses he stumbles over to give it to you.
Warnings: Yandere, Mentioning of Death/Blood/Bodies/Murder/Piercing his darling/Choking
Yandere!Aventurine who wraps his hands around the corpse's neck to measure whether the necklaces will fit you or not. He knows what size your throat is well enough, but he doesn't mind picking up necklaces that are a little too small. Just a little too tight so he can properly collar you. Bonus points if they have something dangling from them in the front with which he can play.
Yandere!Aventurine who doesn't mind the blood on the gold as he tears out earrings from the corpses he finds. It would be a waste to leave them, wouldn't it? You'd look so good with more gold dangling from your body. He chuckles to himself as he thinks about you in nothing but the gold he draped over you. And maybe his coat—if he's feeling frisky. Ratio might call him a peacock, but you'll be a piece of art if you'd let him decorate you as he pleased.
Yandere!Aventurine who checks every ring and brooch for inscriptions, clicking his tongue and trashing them when he finds any. It's wasted metal, but at least he can remove the gems from their settings. That should be just enough money to win you a new, prettier ring if he plays his cards right. One that he can slip on your finger and kiss reverently every time before he leaves.
Yandere!Aventurine who watches the dolled-up people swaggering around the casinos he visits, checking out their jewelry and searching for sets with real jewels that he can bring home. Not every corpse is dead, yet when he imagines what you'd look like in their necklace-earring combo sprawled out on his satin sheets. They die quickly enough, though, and he keeps a pile of jewelry cleaner at home, so you'll be none the wise where it comes from.
Yandere!Aventurine who sometimes doesn't bring food home, but at least he got a new piercing to put on your body (you'll learn to keep still after the first few he placed). He makes sure that one day, when you have learned to behave and cling to his arm no matter where he goes, everyone being so envy of what is his. He can't always win in a gamble, but how could he ever be a loser when he's got you, sparkling to the nines, all to himself?
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