#I just didn’t have the time or energy to make anything about it

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 8

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Sky didn’t have much of a temper.

Even if she was frustrated or annoyed, she rarely got angry or lost her patience. 

It wasn't that she didn't have emotions. She did. She felt things deeply, passionately. However, she also believed that there was no point in wasting energy on getting angry. It didn't solve anything. It only made things worse. 

So Sky had learned a very, very long time ago…that there was no need to start screaming, because her stutter didn’t allow her that anyway…and that maybe…maybe it was easier for her to just let go off her anger about being unfairly treated. 

Getting angry wouldn’t help her. 

That day however…it burst out of her. Burst out of her like somebody had lanced an abscess. 

Her family could say whatever they wanted about her. But they were not going to say a single word about Azriel 

It was Winter Solstice.

Azriel and her had spent the last month or so enjoying winter season in Velaris…even once trying to ice skate on their lake, which only ended with him kissing her skinned knees, because she was definitely not a natural at it.

They had bought Winter Solstice gifts, and baked cookies…had decorated their house with pine garlands and velvet ribbons…

She had knitted them socks and they had made rabbit stews out of rabbits Azriel had hunted in the forest behind their house. (It was…she had never really seen him as a warrior, even when he wore these black leathers and the blue stone that glinted off him…but she could see him as a hunter, when he came home with a couple of rabbits, ready for dinner. It had also resulted in a new fur lined blanket for her, all ready on the couch. 

She had never outright asked…but he seemd to like it when she was cuddled beneath it, like it seemed to soothe some kind of instinct for him. Maybe the fact that it was the animal he had hunted?)   

Sky and Azriel had both made the decision to spend the days with their respective families and have their own Solstice celebrations the next day…that would pretty much sonsits out of a lazy day in bed and nothing else. 

It sounded amazing. Just what they wanted. 

And it had made sense to celebrate like that. She hadn’t wanted to be the one to keep him from his family after all, even if the thought of not spending Solstice with her mate had hurt more than she wanted to admit.

Azriel had been up ridiculous easily in the morning for a snowball fight that was apparently tradition…but not before he had spent a good half hour making her scream his name with his mouth between her thighs…

Afterwards, she had gotten dressed and left the shadows to amuse Hector for the day… and Sky had left to help her mother with dinner preparations.

A nice, quiet family dinner. Nothing more and nothing less.

That’s what it was supposed to be. They didn’t even get that far.

It all went to shit before dinner was even in the oven. 

From the moment she entered her parents house it was a barrage of barbed comments. About her appearance, her stutter, her lack of an boyfriend…her lack of a proper job. (Sellyn Drake was hers. Sellyn Drake was nothing they got to gossip about.) 

Sky had bitten her tongue. She had ignored the comments, tried to enjoy herself. But Claire never knew when enough was enough.

Her sister kept at it. Kept needling, jabbing at Sky until the little bubbles of anger popped to the surface and boiled into something…bigger.

“I…I met my m…mate,” Sky finally said flatly, after anther jab at her lack of a boyfriend. 

Take that Claire. Not just a fiance. A mate. 

Finally in just one thing Sky had been faster than her sister. 

A mate. That mystical rare mating bond had been a gift from the other for her and not for Claire. 

It caught Claire off guard. She stopped pacing, and turned to look at her sister, brow raised. The look said ‘Oh is that so?’ as if it was the kind of nonsense she had come to expect from her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, clearly not believing a word Sky said. 

But Sky wasn’t going to let this go. “His n..name is Azriel,” Sky said with a smile. “We are ver…very hap…happy.” 

They were. They were so happy. So delightfully happy. (So delightfully happy that Sky had been wondering if maybe…maybe the should start trying. High Fae fertility was hit or miss anyway…why shouldn’t they simply start trying and see where it would take them. And if it took two decades, then it took two decades. If it only took a year or three…well, then they were lucky.)  

Claire narrowed her eyes. She was about to say something mean, Sky could see it in the way her lip curled up.

“He…He's a g…good male,” she said firmly, cutting Claire off before she got the chance to spew out anything else.

Claire laughed. It was a harsh, biting sound.

"A good male? Really, Sky?" she sneered. "You actually fell for that line?"

It wasn’t a line. It was the truth. 

Azriel was a good male. Patient and intense and loving. He had never raised a single finger against her.Azriel would never hurt her intentionally. 

 Claire just wanted to belittle Sky in front of their whole family.

"You must be even more naive than you seem if you believe that," she said, almost pityingly. "You really think he wants you? That he actually cares about you? Nobody could want you. I bet he just pities you."

It should have hurt her, she realised. It would have. Even just months ago, it would have hurt her. 

But right now…right now it didn’t really. 

She was supposed to believe that Azriel didn’t want her? The same male that had spent the better part of an hour on his knees in front of her that very morning, eating her out like a starved male? She was supposed that her mate, who’s arousal shot across the bond like an inferno any time she slipped off her clothes, didn’t want her? That the same male that stared at her like she was a goddess, that spent hours worshipping her body with his hands…that she had nearly made come simply by touching his wings a few days ago didn’t want her? 

Still…Claire's words had their effect. She felt a small stab of doubt in her heart, and she hated it. She hated that her sister could still hurt her like this, still make her feel like that insecure little girl who stuttered and couldn't get a single word right.

“He…He l…loves me and I…I love him,” Sky said calmly.

That was clear in every single one of his actions, in every single word. 

“Where did you even meet him?” Sky’s mother demanded. “And what kind of name is Azriel?”

“In…In a bar. Wh…When we went out for Cl..Claire’s Hen Do.  And I im…imagine it’s an Il…illyrian name.”

Everything ground to a halt.

“He’s Illyrian?!” Her mother demanded sharply. “What’s wrong with you, Skylar!”

Sky flinched at her tone. It was harsh, angry. It was the same tone she'd always used when Sky was younger and got anything wrong or stepped out of line.

"Yes, he's Il…Illlyrian," she said, meeting her mother's gaze levelly. "What's…what’s wrong with that?" she asked. 

She knew that her family wasn’t the…most open about Lesser Faes, but…but that hatred in her mother’s voice….she hadn’t expected that. 

“Everything,” Admon gave back with a snort. “You seriously let that barbarian fuck you? I am surprised you actually survived that and he didn’t just rip you apart.”

Every bit of colour leeched out of her face, except her ruddy red cheeks at these crude words. 

This was Admon. Once upon a time, she had wanted to marry him. To have his children. To spent her life with him. 

And…and this was what he told her to her face. 

“I can’t believe that you even let a creature like him touch you,” her mother breathed staring at her with utter disgust.

“He’...He’s not a cre…creature,” Sky bit out. Azriel was her mate. 

“Is it true by the way?” Her brother wondered. “That Illyrian’s have a cat’s prick?”

"Orin!" her mother exclaimed, aghast. "Don't be vulgar! I don't want to know."

Orin shrugged, a smirk dancing across his face. "What? I’m just curious. I am sure Skylar knows. She must please him somehow when she’s still alive to enjoy their…couplings.”

Sky felt ill. She didn't know what to say, what to say in defense of the man she loved. She couldn't get a word out.

“Did you…did you let it touch you?” Her father demanded finally, his voice icy.

It. Not even him. It. Like Azriel was a thing. 

Sky felt her heart drop to the floor, breaking into pieces.

"Yes," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Her father's face grew stony, and he took a step closer to her.

“How dare you?” he hissed. "How could you let a monster touch you like that?"

"He's not a monster!" Sky protested, her voice rising. "He's…He’s k…kind and gen…gentle, and-"

“And I am sure, he keeps you stuffed with his cat prick to keep you satisfied,” Claire drawled.

And Sky was done.

Somehow that was the last straw. 

Somehow that made something inside her break, irreparable. 

It snipped away every thread that ever kept her close to the family that she had been born into. 

“At least I didn’t need to take my sister’s sl…sloppy s…seconds,” Sky said, her voice flat, meeting her gaze full on.“And yes, Azriel more than keeps me s…satisfied.”

Silence descended over the room, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. Sky felt the tension in the air grow heavier with each passing second.

"You…you didn’t just say that,” Claire said coldly. "You take that back, Sky.

Sky raised her chin defiantly. "No.” she said simply. “I'm…I’m not taking back the truth," she said, her voice ringing with unexpected steel.

"You do not speak to me like that," Claire hissed. "You have no right—"

Something inside Sky snapped. Years of frustration, years of feeling invisible and ignored, years of enduring Claire's taunts and jibes all bubbled to the surface.

"I…I have ev…every right," she shot back, her heart pounding in her chest. “Not so fun when you are on the re…receiving end, is it?”

“Either you end your…dalliance with…that creature, or you are no daughter of mine,” her father snapped.

He talked to her like she was nothing. Like she was worth less than dirt beneath his boots. 

And somehow that made it even easier. 

“You want me to turn away my mate…for what? This?” She asked him, cocking her head to the side. .

"For the sake of our family’s reputation," her father said. "You are an embarrassment to us all by associating with that…lesser fae barbarian.”

Barbarian. Lesser Fae. Thing. Creature. Monster.

All of that said about the male she loved. About her mate. 

“He’s Illyrian,” Sky said, her voice icy. 

“Oh come off it,” “Orin snapped. “He’s lesser fae. The only thing they are good for is being fodder for the armies during war times. Other than that, they are worthless.”

Fodder. 

“We have Lesser Fae ancestry ourself,” Sky responded icily. “Our great grandmother was a River Nymph.”

"That was a long time ago," her father interrupted sharply. "It was one ancestor generations ago. And besides, her blood was not that strong to begin with."

Sky thought back to the eyes that looked back from her mirror each day. Blue and beautiful. The one trace of her that got passed down to her.

"Maybe it was her blood that made you think that opening your legs for that creature was in any way appropriate," her mother hissed. 

And suddenly it was so easy. 

“Azriel is my mate,” she hissed. “I will al…always chose him over you. You can spew what..whatever insult you want about him or his pe…peoople. He’s still a bet…better male than any of you could ever hope to be, has treated me better than any of you. I’ll gladly no longer be your daughter.”

She felt the sting of tears running down her cheeks, but she didn't try to wipe them away. She just stared back at her family, daring them to say more. There was a short moment of silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

She should have expected it. Her mother had always been quick to slap her if she did anything anything that she didn’t like.

Just this time…her hand didn’t make contact.

Sky stared at the tendril of shadows that jerked her mother’s hand back, having suddenly appeared. 

*You. Will. Not. Lay. A. Finger. On. Her,* the shadows hissed menacingly.

Sky stared at the shadows, her eyes widening in shock. They were angry. No. Furious. Utterly and completely furious. Her mother seemed equally taken aback, her hand still outstretched in the air where the shadows had stopped her.

Orin looked like he was about to piss himself, and her father…her father stared at the shadows, his face ashen.

“Come here,” Sky said quietly.

The shadows left her mother to come swarming to her, brushing over her cheek in greeting before wrapping themselves around her neck in a clearly possessive move.

Sky felt the familiar warmth of the shadows sink into her, a small bit of comfort in this awful situation. She turned to her family, her jaw set.

"I’m…I’m never coming back," she said, her voice quiet but resolute. And with that, she turned and walked away, She had only taken a handful of steps when she stopped and turned back, one last thing needing to be said, before she closed the door on this chapter of her life forever.

"I never want to see any of you again," she said, her voice shaking only slightly. "And when we have children, don’t you dare come and ask to have anything to do with them. You don’t deserve to even breath the same air as my mate."

With that, she turned and walked away, her head held high. 

***

Whatever went on between sky and her family…it wasn’t good. He could feel that in the bond slumbering underneath his breast bone.

He rubbed it absentmindly, staring in the flickering flame of the Birchin.

He had won that Snowball fight. Once more. One more victory to add to it.  Not that he particularly cared right now.

*Is she alright?* he asked the shadows.

The shadows were…quiet. And that spoke volumes. Something wasn't right. Azriel's heart pounded against his chest, his instincts urging him to act. He had to make sure Sky was alright. He couldn't stand to think about her being in any sort of trouble.

*Physicallly unharmed,* the shadows promised. *Her family is horrible,* they told him distastefully. 

Azriel's heart clenched at the shadow’s words. While it was a small relief that Sky wasn't physically hurt…her family being horrible made him want to grimace. 

“Alright, I had it!” Cassian snapped at that moment. “What the fuck is going on with you two?”

Azriel turned to his brother, seeing Cassian watch Rhys and himself with an expression of…something. Exasperation maybe.

"What do you mean?" Azriel asked, his voice even, feigning ignorance. He was really not in the mood to get into that either. But apparently he wasn’t going to get that small bit of mercy. 

"Don’t play dumb with me, brother," Cassian said, rolling his eyes. "You are both moody and more distant than usual. What the heck happened?"

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Azriel said flatly. Cassian rolled his eyes.

“Rhys?” Cassian demanded with a sigh. 

“You want to explain or shall I?” Rhys addressed him and Azriel just looked at him flatly.

“You gave the orders, High Lord.”

If Azriel had been in a better mood, he would have smirked. But right now, he just wanted this whole conversation to be over so he could check on Sky. The thought of her made his chest ache. He longed to see her, to hold her, to make sure she's alright. But he knew that Cassian and Rhys wouldn’t let him go without an explanation.

“Azriel and I…had a disagreement about Elain.” Azriel just stared at Rhys blankly. Seriously, that was the best Rhys could come up with? That’s what he wanted to go with?!

"A disagreement?" Cassian asked, brows raised. "What kind of disagreement? A 'we came to an agreement' kind of disagreement, or a 'we punched each other in the face' disagreement?"

“A ‘Rhys sticks his nose into things that are none of his business’ disagreement,” Azriel gave back drily.

“Excuse me, you were going to kiss ELain while her mate was under the same roof two years ago. Did you ever even consider the political ramifications of that?” Rhys snapped. “For gods sake, Azriel!”

Azriel's jaw clenched at Rhys's words, his temper flaring even as he tried to maintain a neutral expression. "You think I didn't consider the consequences? Of course, I did," he hissed, his voice dangerously low. "But feelings aren't logical, Rhys. We don't choose who we fall for, and it's not as simple as calculating political ramifications."

“I told Azriel to keep away from Elain. She fell for Lucien. He’s still moping about it and giving me the fault,” Rhys said flatly. “Out of pure interest, how much longer do you want to keep up with that, Az?”

Azriel couldn’t help the laugh that burst out od his mouth at that.

“You didn’t just fucking tell me to keep away from her. You told me and I quote ‘If you need to fuck somebody go to a pleasure hall and pay for it’,” Azriel repeated viciously.

"And I stand by that," Rhys snapped. "The last thing we need is for you to pine over someone who has made it clear where she stands. Elain has her mate, and she doesn't return your feelings. She’s married for gods’ sake!”

“Whoa!” Cassian cut them off. “What the fuck, Rhys?!”

"What?" Rhys demanded, glaring at Cassian.

Cassian gave him an incredulous look. "You told Azriel to go to a pleasure hall? Seriously?"

"I was trying to be helpful," Rhys said, his jaw clenching.

"Helpful?" Cassian asked incrediously. "Helpful would have been to be a little more understanding towards your brother's feelings. He does have them, you know,” Cassian said sarcastically. 

"I know that," Rhys snapped. "But he needs to move on. It's not healthy to keep pining after someone who doesn't return his feelings."

“Where was this opinion for the 500 years of me pining after Mor?” Azriel snapped. 

Rhys's expression darkened. "Don't do that, Azriel. Don't bring Mor into this. She's not relevant to this discussion."

”Not relevant?” Azriel gave back with a laugh. “I think she’s very relevant. You don’t trust me to act like an adult about my feelings. You ordered me to behave like I am some kind of rabid dog. More than once, more than twice. Constantly. Like I would ever do anything to put Mor and Emerie’s relationship into jeopardy. Don’t worry, High Lord. I’ll behave. I’ll leave Mor and Elain alone. .”

Rhys ran a hand through his hair, his frustration clear. "This is not about Mor, Azriel. This is about keeping the peace within our Inner Circle. Elain has her own life and her own happiness to think about. Interfering could only bring pain, not just for you, but for everyone involved. That’s why I ordered you to keep your distance. Not because I don’t trust your feelings or your actions, but because sometimes even the best intentions can have unintended consequences."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Don't give me any of your high and mighty bullshit, Rhysand. You don’t think I am good enough for Mor, and you certainly don't think I am good enough for Elain. But don’t worry, I'll keep my distance, as ordered. I wouldn't want to risk upsetting your perfect little court or ruining your plans for peace. Just tell me who else is off limits, so I know who else I'm not good enough for. Maybe Gwyn? Because remember, ‘don’t you dare to pressure her’?"

Rhys sighed, his gaze softening slightly. "Azriel, it's not about who you're 'good enough' for and who you aren't. It's about respecting people's choices and boundaries. Elain has made her choice in Lucien, and I just want to protect her and the peace we've worked so hard to maintain. And no, nobody else is off limits. You're free to…'seek your entertainment' as you please."

His entertainment. 

Right. 

Azriel snorted, the sound full of derision. “It warms my heart that you give me that permission,” Azriel said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Rhys rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by Azriel's reaction. "I'm not trying to 'give you permission,' Azriel," he said firmly. "I'm just trying to make sure you understand why I'm asking you to behave. I care about you and our inner circle. You're my brother, but I also care about Elain and her happiness. I don't want to see anyone get hurt."

“Have I done anything, anything at all that put her happiness in jeopardy?” Azriel asked, his voices harsh. “I kept away as you ordered. I fucking saved Lucien’s life, so she could be happy.”

"You haven't done anything wrong," Rhys acknowledged, his tone softening. "You've been a better friend to Elain than anyone could have asked. You saved Luicen because you are a good person, not just for Elain's sake. But I still think it’s best if you keep your distance. Not just for her, but for yourself too. Dwelling on feelings that can’t be returned will only bring you pain."

“For cauldron’s sake, Rhys,” Cassian said with a sigh.

Rhys turned his attention to him, the exasperation clear in his eyes. "What, Cassian?" he asked, his tone weary.

Cassian rubbed a hand over his jaw, shaking his head. "You’re so hell bent on keeping the peace you forget that the people in your court have feelings too," he said. "Azriel isn’t some emotionless soldier doing your bidding. He has feelings and desires, just like everyone else. And sometimes it’s not as simple as just moving on."

"I know that," Rhys said, running a hand through his hair. "But sometimes we have to put our own feelings aside for the greater good. As a High Lord, I have to think about the impact my actions could have on others. I'm not trying to shut down Azriel's feelings. I'm just trying to protect him from potential pain.”

“Yeah you did a shitty job at that,” Cassian said drily. “You could have told Mor hundred of years ago to have a conversation with him. You didn’t. But Azriel is supposed to tread carefully not to make her or Emerie uncomfortable. Azriel is supposed to behave?”

Rhys's eyes flashed in anger. "I know I've made mistakes, Cassian. I should have handled things differently with Mor and Azriel. But I can't change the past. All I can do is try to make the best decisions for everyone involved right now."

“You don’t even fucking realise how much of a self important hypocritical asshole you are, do you?” Azriel asked flatly. “It’s okay for you to pursue an engaged female that’s engaged to another High Lord, damn the consequences. But the rest of us…we are told to behave.”

Rhys bristled at Azriel’s words, his own temper threatening to flare. "That's different, Azriel," he said, his voice sharp. "That’s different and you know it. You would understand if you had a…” he hesitated.

"If I had a what?" Azriel prompted sharply.

Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, his fingers clenching around his mug. "A mate."

“Rhys,” Cassian said carefully.

"What?" Rhys snapped, his temper still simmering just below the surface. “He doesn’t have a mate, he doesn’t fucking understand it.”

Aaaaaand…. Azriel was done.

So fucking done. 

“Where are you going?” Rhys demanded as he stood up.

“Home,” Azriel said flatly. “You have my gifts, hand them out. Wish Feyre a Happy Birthday, will you? I’ll be back to do your bidding in about 3 days, High Lord.” 

“I highly doubt that your mother will enjoy your impromptu appearance at Rosehall,” Rhys said. Azriel’s hand twitched towards Truthteller. “Let’s just…”

“Rhysand!” Cassian snapped.

“What?” Rhys asked. 

“I have talked to my mother once since the Sealing of Velaris was lifted,” Azriel said tightly. “One conversation where she told me that she found a new family and that I should keep away from her. So no, Rhys. I am not going to Rosehall.”

Rhys looked utterly shell-shocked by Azriel’s revelation. "Azriel, I..." he started, but Azriel simply shook his head.

"Don't," he said. "Just don't." He didn’t wnat to talk about it. He never wanted to talk about that. His mother could do whatever she wanted. he would leave her alone, just as requested. But he was not going to talk about it. 

“Then I am coming with you. You are not spending Winter Solstice alone brooding at the House of Wind,” Cassian said quickly, standing. 

“I am not going to the House of Wind either.” Azriel answered flatly. “I am going home to my house and I won’t be alone either.”

"What do you mean you won't be alone?" Rhys asked sharply.

Azriel just snorted, “My mate will be there,” he said simply. “She’s better company than any of you.”

“Your...your mate?” Rhys repeated, his eyes widening.

Cassian gaped at Azriel. "Your mate? Why didn’t you tell us? Who is she?"

“Why should I tell you? ” Azriel gave back his voice icy. “I may trust you with this court, Rhysand, but I do not trust you with anything I love. Not anymore.”

[itsrlymine]

Manifesting and Why Feelings Don’t Matter. They Never Did.

Some of you care way too much about your feelings for me and honestly…. It’s annoying. Feelings got y’all in a chokehold yet they have nothing to do with you getting your desires. Your feelings didn’t stop your sp from coming back and treating how you wanted them to. Your feelings didn’t change the fact that you got the house/apartment you have always wanted. Your feelings didn’t change the fact that you still reconciled with an old friend from years ago who barely even remembers the disagreement. Whether positive or not, it’s all about the meaning you give them. 

“I want to manifest sp back but I don’t feel like—.“

“I want to make money without working but I feel guilty and—.“

“I know I can manifest whatever I want but what if I feel uncomfort—.“

SHUT UP AND JUST KNOW YOU HAVE WHAT YOU WANT. KNOW IT NOW

No matter how you "feel", you are still the creator of your experience. 

If you are feeling nervous about getting a certain desire, who cares? It’s yours anyways.

If you are feeling scared about something not happening, who cares? You got it and it happened anyways.

If you are feeling like you don’t know how to manifest and create your reality, who cares? You are still creating even if it’s something you don’t want. Just change your perspective. 

Your feelings aren’t your enemies but they are also not your God. At all. You are and you can dictate whether or not the “feelings” you have matter. They don’t but you can also use them to your advantage. I’ve been angry about tons of things before and instead of focusing that anger on the situation at hand, I focused it towards what I wanted to happen instead. 

“F*ck this! I’m literally getting what I want. I have that sh*it right now what am I even talking about “getting” for???? That sh*t is in my freakin face!!” 

If you want to feel anything, feel peace. When I say feel, I don’t mean create or conjure up an emotion within yourself. By feeling, just still your thoughts and mind. There you will find peace— your true essence. Be comfortable there whether it’s for two seconds or two hours. From that peace is where all creation springs. Remind yourself of who you are and know it will never change. You are still in control. 

What you say goes, not what you feel. You can experience all the human emotions —energies in motion— you want or don’t want but at the end of the day none of that matters. Why? Because you create. You choose. Not your feelings. Not your emotions. Even physical sensations don’t hold any power until you give them power. I’ve healed myself a number of times from different pains whether it was cramps, headaches, stomachaches or toothaches and even healing my second ACL faster than the first by thinking as the person who doesn’t feel pain anymore/is healed. It is truly easier said than done because it’s done and easy asf to say. Be so serious. Divorce your feelings, take your ring back and decide who you are in spite of them! 

And don’t let me get started on y’all that let the 3d make you feel a certain way. You are allowing that the 3d to dictate how you feel and keeping yourself in a perpetual cycle you don’t want to be in. Stop it. Get help. Help yourself. 

[dumblilb]

I don’t wanna talk

Vi x Bartender!Reader

(Synopsis: Vi’s been having a hard time recently. You decide to give her a little relief.)

(Warnings: !SMUT MDNI!, lesbian sex, Sub!Vi, oral (both!r), thigh riding (vi!r), strap (vi!r), begging, mentions of alcohol, profanity, crying from overstim, a little angst but not really, kinda fluff)

(Requested: Yes)

(Word count: 2,823)

* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚★。*

As her newly dark hair falls over her eyes all she could think about was how angry she was. It hadn’t even quite hit her yet why. Maybe it was her bruised knuckles, and the way they made her hands look so ruff against your skin. Or the fact that the lights were blinding her eyes. But as she looked up at you over the bar counter, she knew she had one thing to be surely mad at. You were gonna probably gonna send her home.

She held your forearm with a small bit of pressure. Putting the drink you were making for your final customer of the night on pause.

“Please. I need a drink. Just one.” Vi pleads. She looks tired. Her shoulders are slightly slouched and her eyes look sullen. You can’t help but sigh. This is the third night this week you’ve denied her service. Normally you can’t help but place down another beer for a drunkerd. A few extra dollars in your pocket from some rando isn’t the worst thing in the world. But when it’s your friend that’s when it gets complicated.

“Vi, I’m off in a minute. Just let me finish making this and you can come with me back to mine. Okay?” You smile softly. Her grip on your arm loosens and she looks at you for a second, debating her answer. Did she really want you to take her home and put her to bed. Her eyes flicker to the softness in your eyes. And the way your chest moved delicately up and down while you breathed. Actually that doesn’t sound like a bad idea right now. Maybe she wasn’t that upset after all.

“Fine. Just-“ She breathes out heavy, hanging her head. “Don’t make me wait too long.” She lets up on your arm and walks over to the exit waiting for you. You can’t help but stare at her as you clean up and clock out. Her jacket is slung over her shoulder. The fabric molding to the sweat covered muscles of her back. Like an unruly child she scrapes her large leather boots across the floor back n forth. Almost in protest of you testing her level of patience.

You walk over to her and she gives you a slight tinge of a smile as she wraps her arm around your shoulders.

“You’re getting sweat on me.” You grimace. She just places a peck on your cheek with a stuck up grin.

“You love it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to give you that impression.” You roll your eyes. But the undeniable smile covering your face gives her the courage she needs for the night.

The walk home was quick since you live not too far. Which vi was pleased about. The second you unlocked the door she pulled you into your own home, leading you to your room.

“What the hell are you doing.” You can’t help but laugh.

“Nothing I just wanna talk.” She says sitting down on your bed. Discarding her boots and jacket to the floor.

“Talk?” You question. You’re used to her flirting. She’s done it her whole life. She’s never really not been a charmer. But ever since she started doing those pit fights and coming to find you at the bar afterwards, it’s been a little intense. She started coming as a way to see you. She’d buy a drink. Chat you up. Get turned down. And she’d buy another. You could tell she was just sad and lonely. So you didn’t really give the idea of it the time of day. But as the drinking became more intense you got worried. She only seemed to become more upset the more times you sent her on her way. Beer in hand. You’d started to think you definitely fucked up. And she wasn’t joking around.

“Can’t remember the last time we talked about anything other than how bad you want me.” You tease, trying to keep the energy light. Maybe just this once. You’d try and see how this goes.

“You know I’ve had a really shitty day. Lost my match. And the only thing that’s made me feel better is the sight of you. You seem to have that effect on me recently.” She states as you sit down next to her. She leans to rest her head down softly on your shoulder. You don’t quite know how to react to what she’s just said. Her breath is hitting your skin sending a shiver down your back. You go to rest your hand to her cheek bringing her to face you, but she pulls back almost like a flinch. You ease her in closer.

“I don’t think I wanna talk right now.” You whisper, leaning in slightly to close the gap. She almost gasps at the contact but finds composure and melts into the kiss. All she could think about for weeks was how you would feel against her. If your lips were soft or if your eyelashes would flutter against her cheeks. But nothing could have prepared her for how heavenly you would feel.

The softness of your lips had her entranced as she pulled you in for more. Leaning into you making you fall back on your arms, deeper into your bed. She parts for a second, taking in your face. The way your eyes dart from hers to her lips. The way they your lips stay open slightly. Like they’re inviting her back in. You take the chance and kiss her again. Guiding her body up into a sitting position. Practically straddling your hips. You place a hand to her chest, feeling up to her neck. You could feel her heart racing under your touch. Deep breaths wracked her body as you fiddled with the wraps around her torso.

“Can I?” You question and she continues to kiss you, moving down your neck.

“Please.” She exhales and you start removing them. Much too slow for her taste. She’s antsy, nipping at your skin as you work. You finally get it off and take a second to admire her. She beautiful. Her skin is pale but it glimmers with sweat as she pants. You run your fingers over her chest, caressing her softly making her look at you nervously. What if you didn’t like them. What if-

“God you’re fucking perfect.” You exclaim quietly, placing soft kisses upon them. Her head falls back as you enclose on of them in your mouth. Putting your tongue to work, rolling over her nipple gently with your other hand.

Her hand grips your thigh tightly as a way to cope with the new sensation. She runs her other over your head till you pull back. She looks at you slightly confused till you begin removing your top, making her eyes go wide. The black bra still covering your chest doesn’t keep her from gawking. She slides off your lap for a second, hastily removing her own black jeans leaving her in just a pair of boxers in front of you. Her happy trail on display. Scooting forward you grab her hand placing it on your own pants. Giving her permission to remove them.

She bends down in front of you, sliding them over your hips and down your legs. Running her fingers up your thighs she starts to spread them apart, but you urge her back onto your lap.

“You said you had a bad day? Let me make you feel good.” You breathe into her ear, teasing her boxers off with your fingertips. Which she is now eagerly ripping off. Placing her, now noticeably wet, core down on one of your thighs. You grip her hips with a bit of force. Guiding them in a back in forth motion. She lets out a soft grunt as she slowly picks up the pace. Resting her head in the crook of your neck, she sloppily places small pecks to your collar bone. Her hands gripping your waist to keep steady.

Each motion she made caused a moan to leave her lips. They started quiet but as her legs became shaky you’d remind her how good she was doing. You rock your leg up into her, making the whining become louder. Her voice barely sounding legible between gasps, as she pleads with you.

“Fuck! I- I can’t…” She lets out, whipping her head back. You just smile at her softly. You roll over onto the bed, bringing her under you. Her hair falling back out of her face, leaving you with her wide eyed expression. She’s confused as to why you stopped her from finishing, till you get down on your knees beside the bed. Pulling her legs towards you and resting them on your shoulders. Her toned thighs clenched around you in anticipation as you leave little kisses to the area.

She’s starts to get needy, grinding her hips upward towards your lips when you grip her tightly. Looking up at her flushed face. Any makeup she was wearing earlier was fully smudged off and beads of sweat dripped down her abs as her deep breaths made each one flex just a little. It makes your brain spin a little as she looks at you with softness. Eyes pleading with you. Practically begging for relief.

“Please-“ She starts to say when you run your tongue through her folds. Her whole body melts into the bed. Each dip into her making her squirm as you work your way to her clit. Tonguing it with swift motion. Loud grunts leave her lips as she grips your head trying to push you in closer. She wants more. Which is fine. You have much more to give.

Coming up for air you slightly knock her hand out of the way. You begin holding her hips up with nothing but your own strength. Her legs fully over your shoulders. She tries to help by holding herself up with her forearms. But as you begin sucking on the sensitive area she gives up. An echoing moan leaves her as her core starts to tense up. Gripping your sheets tightly, she holds her eyes closed. Almost embarrassed to face you like this. Weak and to your will.

Her hips start to twitch. And before you could even prepare she’s a mess under you. Her release covering your mouth. She lays there panting for a minute while you gently set her down. Leaving wet kisses up her body, till you’re lying against her. Bringing her lips you yours, letting her taste herself. She holds you tight as if scared you would leave. Bitting slightly at your lips. Just enough to claim her stake. Her hand falls to your underwear line and she starts to inch closer to your core. You couldn’t help but peek to see the way her tattoos flowed with her muscles at each movement.

Moving your hips forward you allow her to start softly running her fingers through your folds. A small murmur of pleasure creeps out making her smile into the kiss. Applying light pressure she moves in circular motions, moving her kisses down your neck. Nipping at it slightly. The louder you get the faster she goes. The restriction of your panties upsets her so she takes a pause to slide them off and gets right back to it.

You place your hand on hers and guide it down to your entrance. She understands quickly and moves to be more on top of you. Holding one of your thighs down slightly with her leg. Holding herself up with one of her arms, her other glides its first finger into your core gently. She hesitates for a moment before you impatiently buck your hips, letting her know it’s okay to start moving.

She starts gingerly. Nervous almost. But as you whisper words of encouragement under your breath she starts to pick up the pace. Each thrust making you squirm under her. As her speed increases you bring one of your own hands down to massage your clit. The feeling of another finger entering makes a warmth start building in your stomach. Vi grunts as she continues. Her eyes not leaving you. The way your chest moves at her motions could make her drool. She starts to curl her fingers upward inside you and your pace becomes faster. But it’s sloppy, and a lack of composure becomes apparent.

“Fuck! Vi don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.” You say stern, even in your current state. Your legs start to shake under her and with a last pump the feeling in your stomach releases making your whole body tense against her. She slowly starts to remove her fingers, placing them in her mouth to lick them clean. Under heavy lids you look at her with a smirk. She liked the way you tasted. You could see it on her face. She was pussy drunk.

Sitting up you move to reach under the bed. Grabbing what you need from the box you kept there. She looks at you curious till you bring it into her view. The hot pink strap, now sitting on your lap, makes her eyes go wide.

“Do you want me too..” She starts but as you get up and start to tighten it around your hips, she understands. “Oh!”

“Is this okay?” You check walking towards her position at the edge of the bed. She nods her head rapidly making you chuckle a bit. Pink dusting over her cheeks as you stand between her legs. Cupping her face you rub your thumb across her tattoo, taking in the way she looks. Even in the dark her powder blue eyes sparkle. Her hair can’t help fall slightly in the way of her view. Which in this moment is not something she’s fond of. She wants to see you.

Leaning down, you delicately leave a kiss to her forehead. Grabbing her hand in the process. You pull her up to stand in front of you.

“Turn around.” You muse and she looks at you a little confused, following instructions anyways. The sight of her tattoo covering her back makes you take a deep breath. God she’s so fucking hot. You rub your hands down her back, tracing each line of ink. She shivers slightly under your touch reminding you of what you were doing in the first place. Bending her over, she places her knees and hands down onto the bed and braces herself. Climbing up to bring your pelvis to her ass, you position yourself.

Caressing her hips softly you question “ready?” And you see her nod.

Pushing the tip of the strap in slowly you let her get accustomed to the feeling. A audible moan leaves her and you place a kiss to her back. Finding yourself a rhythm you begin thrusting into her. Slow at first, not to scare her. But then she started begging for it.

“Please! Faster.” She groaned, spreading her legs a bit wider. Which allowed for you to go deeper. Your thighs hitting her ass making as slapping noise echo in the room. But it was hard to hear over the loud whines that escapes her mouth. She can’t help but curse your name as you apply some pressure to her back, making her arch deeper. Holding her hips tightly to secure the motion. Her arms give out and her torso becomes flesh with the sheets. Arms up above her head. She turns slightly back to look at you. Reaching under you start to rub her off while continuing to slam into her.

“Holy shit!” She exclaims trying to hide her face behind her arm, but you stop her.

“Pretty girl, I need you to look at me.” You smile and she moves her arm. Small tears gather in her eyes from the overstimulation on her pussy. You get concerned for a second but when her legs start to twitch a little she practically begs for you to go harder. It only takes a few more pumps before her legs give out and you can feel warmth covering your hand. Easing out of her, you pull out and remove the strap from your hips.

She lays there, body sprawled out across your bed. Her eyes are closed but she has a grin adorning her face. A slight flush on her skin apparent. Quickly placing a kiss to her shoulder, you get up to grab a damp towel. Coming back to sit next to her.

“Come here.” You bring her closer to begin wiping her down. Cleaning her off. She looks up at you with a grin. She puts a hand to your cheek, pulling your lips down to hers. The kiss is gentle and needy. She just wants to feel you. Resting her forehead to yours she sighs.

“You okay?” You question, caressing her arm softly.

“My day just got a whole lot better.”

[cobaltperun]

Tara who has a crush on the cute barista reader??? Love your fics

5 Times You Made Coffee and 1 Time You Didn't

(Request) Tara Carpenter x GN! Reader

Masterlist

Word count: 3.1k

Tara knew she should have been more careful, she knew she should have been cautions of every stranger. First Amber and Richie, then Quinn and Ethan, and she shivered at the very thought if how many times Sidney got betrayed and targeted.

But you were so cute. With that smile, standing out from all the polite smiles of the other barista. And you made perfect coffee, so perfect she now made it her mission to bring as many people, which admittedly and given her social circle wasn't all that many, to your coffee shop when it was your shift.

This time she was here with Mindy, after a long day of classes. "Good afternoon," you smiled at Mindy and then turned toward Tara. "Tara," your already warm smile widened and she almost thought she didn't even need coffee after the burst of energy she got just from seeing you.

"Hey, Y/N," she smiled back at you, hoping her crush wasn't that obvious.

“The usual?” you asked her and she nodded, you’ve been making a cappuccino for her for weeks now and it didn’t take you long to figure out that was her coffee of choice. “And for you?” you turned to Mindy.

“Could I get an espresso?” Mindy asked and you nodded.

“Right away,” you backed away and Tara looked down, blushing at Mindy’s questioning look.

“Spill it, T,” Mindy demanded and pointed at you in the most obvious way. “You have a crush on them and it’s visible from a plane.”

She didn’t have to put it like that. “I just think they are cute,” she didn’t deny her crush. “I just have a good feeling about them, you know?” and she knew a good feeling wasn’t enough anymore, but she had to believe it would be enough this time.

Mindy opened her mouth but then changed her mind and instead just hummed. “Let’s judge their coffee making skills first, you’ll be needing someone who can get your coffee just right,” Mindy grinned and Tara was happy Mindy was the first to find out about you. She knew Chad had a bit of a crush on her, and Sam was… well, Sam, she was protective.

“It’s better than just right,” she assured her of your skills, that was the one thing she couldn’t deny no matter what. You got it just right when she first tried it, and she just asked for a pinch of cocoa powder the second time and since then the cappuccino you made her was flawless.

Before her and Mindy could even start talking you came with their coffees and Tara reached for her wallet. “It’s taken care of,” you winked at her and walked over to the other table before she could say anything. Tara watched you, speechless, as she always was when you just told her the coffee was on the house.

Somehow, she was sure it had nothing to do with your parents owning the place. You would have treated her even if you just worked there.

“You weren’t kidding, they know how to make coffee,” Mindy commented as she took a sip of her espresso.

“Mhm,” she agreed absentmindedly, still paying attention to you.

“Classes weren’t really all that bad today,” Mindy commented, prompting yet another ‘mhm’ from Tara. You were preparing a coffee with utmost care, and there was definitely a reason why Tara kept sitting at this exact spot. It was easy to sneak glances your way from her seat.

“The Babadook sucks,” Mindy said and she once more agreed before Mindy snapped her fingers right in front of Tara’s face.

“Earth to Lover Girl, can you at least pretend we’re not here so you can make googly eyes at your crush?” Mindy was stuck between being amused and annoyed.

“Fine, fine, what did you just say?” she asked but Mindy just stuck her tongue out and Tara rolled her eyes. From the corner of her eyes she caught you smiling at her as you dried a glass you just washed.

About an hour later Tara approached you with the coffee cups. “Thank you, they were amazing, as always,” she told you as you reached over the counter to take them.

“Could I interest you in trying some other coffees? Only drinking cappuccino will make it taste bland over time,” you suggested and gestured at the chair near the bar. “Might be a good way to get to know each other, assuming I’m not misinterpreting things, of course,” you looked confident, but there was a small hint of shyness in your gaze. As if you’ve been trying to ask her this for some time now.

“Sure, I’ll leave my coffee order in your hands,” she accepted a bit too eagerly and you grinned together.

~X~

The next time she came to the coffee shop she sat down close to you, alone and eager to see what you had in mind for the first coffee testing, as Tara dubbed it.

“I’m all yours, barista,” she winked at you, not entirely catching on to what she just said.

You took it like a champ though, not even flinching at the potential double meaning as you prepared her coffee and Tara would love to say she could follow what you were doing but there was a reason she was desperately reliant on a coffee machine or shops like this one. Eventually you placed a small glass in front of her.

“Ristretto, comes from Italy, basically a stronger espresso. Same amount of coffee, in half the water,” it was early in the morning and she did have a long day ahead of her.

She nodded and brought the glass closer to her.

“So, how come you are a barista? I mean, besides your parents owning the place?” Tara asked, not yet ready to drink the coffee and be on her way.

You leaned over the counter. “Coffee is a bit of a passion for me, I love making it, and trying different variations,” you replied and she could see the honesty in your eyes.

Being passionate about coffee wasn’t what she expected but somehow, given how good you were at making it, she immediately believed it.

“I’m happy you can pursue your passion,” when was the last time she could pursue her own passions without looking behind her shoulder?

“It helps that I get to meet beautiful girls, like your friend last week,” you smirked, teasing her slightly.

She tried the coffee, and it was definitely strong, but there was some sweetness to it. “And what am I?” she chose to be bold, leaning slightly closer to you as she asked that.

You moved your hand until it was right next to her and offered it to her, and she accepted, putting her hand on top of your own. “You, Tara, are more than just beautiful.”

“Real smooth, Y/N,” she snickered but she would be lying if she said the compliment didn’t feel nice.

~X~

“Something lighter this time,” the moment Tara stepped into the coffee shop you placed a coffee cup at her newfound place at the bar.

“Am I that predictable?” Tara asked, actually slightly concerned about it. If you could time making the coffee for her after only knowing her for a short period of time. Could someone intending to hurt her learn her patterns this easily?

“Every single morning at 9:27 you walk through those doors,” you shrugged and she figured she unconsciously did start doing that.

She still rolled her eyes and sat down at her seat. She looked at her coffee.

“Café au lait, French this time. Coffee with warm milk,” you explained, correcting her assumption that it was just regular white coffee.

“You’re the expert,” she smiled and tried the coffee, and the only thing that crossed her mind was that she should have gotten you to experiment with her coffee taste sooner. “I swear I only tolerated coffee, but you’ll make me love it,” she sighed, almost dreamily at the light taste.

“That’s the idea,” you grinned but unlike last time when you could stay and chat with her, this time the coffee shop was busy, and you had to do your job. You still had the time to ask her about how her day went yesterday and how she did on the exam she had.

And it made her feel like her heart would lean out of her chest.

~X~

It took some time before you offered her a new coffee. You liked surprising her with new coffees randomly and over that period of time you met both Chad and Sam, both meetings went surprisingly well.

Tara had a gut feeling she would be trying a new coffee today as she walked into the coffee shop and saw you heating up water in some thin and tall pot. “Hey, Tara,” you said without turning to look at her and she leaned over the bar to watch you work. “Come over to this side,” you invited her and she happily rushed to your side. She just now realized this was the closest the two of you were, even closer than when you would bring her coffee to the table. So, instead of turning into a tomato, she focused on what you were doing. You added ground coffee to the boiling water and soon enough it began frothing.

“Watch out!” she exclaimed out of habit, but you just grinned and lifted it up, before lowering it back onto the stove and Tara watched as the coffee began frothing again.

“Trust the process,” you told her and lifted it again just as it reached the top of the pot and then did it again one last time before pouring it into two porcelain coffee cups. “Try it without sugar at first, then add it if you need to,” you said and placed cups in front of the chair next to your own. You patted the spot next to you and Tara hopped onto the chair, happy to be sharing coffee with you for the very first time.

“Which one is this?” she asked, the strong scent immediately woke her up, and while it was bitter it had a taste just as strong as the scent. It was bitter enough that she needed to add a bit of sugar to it.

“Turkish, you saw the process, and that,” you pointed at the thin and tall pot. “Is most often called a cezve,” you explained and took a sip of the coffee, clearly enjoying yourself.

Tara smiled, leaning a bit closer to you, enjoying the warmth of the coffee and your presence.

~X~

“Caffè mocha!” she knew this one, she never really went out of her way to try it, but she knew it, and she was proud to show you she could name what you just made for her.

“Mhm,” you were drinking with her behind the counter again, as it was a habit you seemed to develop ever since you made that Turkish coffee for her. “Figured you deserved something sweet for getting an A on that exam,” you nudged her lightly and she grinned, all happy and proud.

“You know it,” she looked at you and felt ready to finally take that next step. In fact, she’s been trying to get herself hyped up to say it since your meeting with Sam went well. “Say, Y/N,” she began and cleared her throat.

“Yeah?” your full attention was on her, made possible by lack of customers at the moment and Tara thanked whatever higher being arranged for that to happen.

“I want to make coffee for you,” she said and you raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her offer. “Come and hang out at my place? I mean, Sam will be there because she is really protective, but uh, yeah, come to my place,” she stopped herself before she could start rambling.

“I’d love that,” you said and that was when her luck ran out, as a customer came into the coffee shop and you had to go and get his order. “I’d absolutely love that,” you leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and Tara pumped her fist and cheered quietly, much to your amusement.

~X~

You couldn't remember the last time you were this nervous; after all a beautiful girl just invited you to her apartment. Granted with her older sister present as well, but she did invite you. You looked up at the building in front of you, it was almost daunting with how many floor it had and as far as you knew there were no elevators and Tara lived on the top floor. You still had no idea why, or why Sam was as protective of Tara as she was.

You understood older sibling protectiveness, but Sam took it to the next level.

“I can do this,” you hyped yourself up and typed in the code Tara gave you. The heavy metal doors opened, and you stepped in, beginning the long journey up the stairs. Well, at least this was a good test to see if you were still in shape. And it turned out you were still in good shape! Which was great because otherwise you would have had a lot of troubles keeping your heart rate normal. Your heart was already beating faster than it should just because you were about to meet up with Tara but that was beside the point, at least you didn’t have to worry about whether you were or weren’t in shape. You reached the door of her apartment and took another deep breath. “I can do this,” you whispered to yourself, and you checked the flower bouquet and the box of chocolates you brought. Frankly speaking, you may have dressed to impress a bit too much, but knowing Tara she would find it endearing.

At least you hoped she would.

You were just about to knock when the door suddenly opened and you were met with the girl you had a crush on for the past several weeks. Could the ground beneath your feet just open and swallow you whole? This was too embarrassing! “Oh, hi!” you stammered embarrassed as she caught you in front of her own doors like a dumbass who couldn't even get the courage to knock on the doors of the girl that invited them in herself.

“Hi,” she blushed and looked down and you found yourself thinking she looked so adorable like this. And then you both just laughed because you were both ridiculously shy about this. All that confidence you had back at the coffee shop was seemingly gone, as it was blown away by the wind blowing around the building. “Oh, shit, sorry, come on in!” Tara seemed to realize she was blocking your entrance and stepped aside letting you come in and join her inside.

“Right, thank you for having me,” you cleared your throat and gave her the flowers and the box of chocolates. “Uh, this is for you. I didn't know what you liked so I just went with the cliche option,” you nervously rubbed the back of your neck as heat rushed to your cheeks. Tara smiled and took it from you, and her fingers brushed against your own.

“Thanks, I love it,” and so you went inside followed her to the living room where Sam was already waiting.

“Hello, Sam,” you nodded, greeting her and she nodded back.

“Come on sit down, I won't bite,” Sam smiled kindly at you and gestured towards the sofa “Tara's been really nervous about impressing you, just so you know,” her words cause Tara to adorably blush once more.

“Sam please,” the younger Carpenter sister groaned and seemed to make herself even smaller than she was and then she just pointed toward what you assumed was the kitchen. “I’m just going to go and make coffee.”

Unlike you, she had a way to flee.

But that meant you would be alone with Sam.

“Wait! Do you need help? You know, since I am a professional and all that,” you were grasping at straws, pleading for mercy, because anything would be better than being along with Sam. Even all these weeks after you met her she still made you nervous. Tara seemed to relax at seeing you were just as nervous as she was, if not more and she laughed patting you on the back.

“I think I can handle myself,” well, as long as she felt better you figured you could take some teasing. Resigning to your fate you just sighed and sat down as Tara left you and Sam alone.

“So, what are your intentions with my sister?” Sam asked without a hint of joking, she was completely serious, and you choked on air, only to then hear her chuckling. “Relax I'm just messing with you. Let's just wait for Tara to come back with coffee.”

Well, that was a relief. So, you sat there in silence, and you had a feeling this was only awkward for you, from the looks of it for Sam it was more amusing slash comfortable. Finally, after way too much time, Tara came back with three coffee mugs and she sat down next to you. You recognized the smell the moment she stepped into the living room and you couldn’t describe how happy you were.

“I've been practicing,” she confessed and it showed because the coffee smelled wonderful.

“Cortado,” you would recognize the scent anywhere and she, from the looks of it, did it perfectly.

Tara smacked her forehead in frustration “Damn, I was sure you wouldn't guess it. Guess that’s a pro for you,” she, clearly still annoyed, handed a twenty dollar bill to a rather satisfied Sam.

“It's one of my favorites actually,” you confessed and her eyes widened at that.

“So how come you never made it for me?” she sounded offended as if something special between you just became a tiny bit less special.

“It's not on the menu, and well I like to keep this one for special people. And in private, can't have customers smelling this and asking about it,” you shrugged and took the sip of the coffee. You were right, it really was perfect, even more so since Tara was the one who made it for you.

“Fine, you goofball, but you're making it for me next time. At your own apartment,” you could work with that even if Sam nearly choked when Tara said that.

[piastrisun]

unexpected confession.

pairings: lando norris + fem reader.

summary: as the elevator stalls, so does your composure. lando’s sudden, earnest words turn the trapped moment into a delicate dance between panic and possibility.

genre: fluff.⠀word count: 1k.⠀ warning: none.

notes: lando’s birthday!!! a bit short but i hope y’all like it. <3 no use of y/n or any names at all.

you and lando are standing in the elevator, the air uncomfortably still, and the space around you both feels too small. the elevator’s hum seems louder now, echoing in the confined space. the flickering light above does little to calm the rising tension between you two, as your body instinctively shifts to press against the corner.

you’ve never thought much about how close you are to each other—how every small movement feels amplified in this moment. it's as if your very proximity makes the silence heavier. your mind races, trying to distract itself from the fact that you're alone in an elevator, stuck for what feels like forever. it should be mundane, but with lando here, everything suddenly feels too intense.

and then, he breaks the stillness, his voice barely above a whisper but loud enough to shake you out of your thoughts. "i don’t want to die without telling you this."

your heart skips a beat, and a chill runs down your spine. the sudden panic floods you, and you whip your head to face him, your eyes wide, your breath catching in your throat. “what?! what are you talking about? are we—are we dying?”

his face goes pale as he stammers, looking more flustered than you've ever seen him. his hands hover over the elevator buttons as though he can fix the situation with the press of a few keys. “no! no, of course not… well, i mean, i don’t think so. but listen, it’s important.” he avoids your gaze, the nervous energy practically crackling between you.

you let out a shaky, almost panicked laugh, trying to control the rapid beat of your heart. “lando, this is not the time for dramatic confessions! you’re freaking me out!”

he shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes dart around the elevator. you can tell he’s struggling to keep it together, his body stiff with the weight of whatever he's about to say. “i love you. i always have. and i’m sorry for not saying it sooner.”

you freeze, your body going rigid. the words land with such weight that you can’t process them fast enough. your jaw falls open, and your mouth feels dry as you blink a few times, as if trying to clear the fog in your brain. "wait, what? you love me? you’ve… always loved me?" you can’t quite wrap your mind around it, your voice coming out in a whisper, disbelief taking over. your hands tremble, and your heart is pounding so hard you swear he can hear it. "are you—are you serious right now? do you think we’re going to die in this elevator?"

“no! no, i don’t think we’re dying! i mean, not right now.” lando sighs dramatically, dropping his shoulders in exasperation as he leans back against the elevator wall, seemingly giving up on fixing anything. “but… look, i just needed to say it, okay? i didn’t want to leave with it unsaid. so, if we do die, well… at least you know.”

his words hang in the air like a strange confession, one that doesn't quite make sense given the circumstances. but even then, a knot of warmth stirs in your chest, a strange mix of emotions you’re not ready to confront.

you step back, crossing your arms tightly over your chest as if trying to shield yourself from what’s happening. you narrow your eyes at him, your lips curling into a teasing frown. “so, this is your plan? we get stuck in an elevator for five minutes and suddenly you’ve decided to unload your feelings?”

he groans, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. he slumps against the wall, letting out a breath like he's trying to deflate from the awkwardness. “this wasn’t exactly the moment i planned, okay? but i’ve been holding it in for years, and if you do kill me with that glare, at least i’ll go knowing i said it.”

you bite back a smile, your eyes narrowing in mock judgment. you raise an eyebrow as you lean toward him. “glare? i’m just trying to process this. you’ve have fancied me all this time, and you never said anything?”

his shoulders tense, and he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze as if searching for some way to escape. “i wasn’t sure if you felt the same. i thought maybe you’d think i was, i don’t know, creepy or something.” his voice cracks slightly, a nervous chuckle escaping him. he looks down at his shoes, his embarrassment clear. “but now here we are. stuck in this tiny box together, one awkward cough away from the end of our lives…”

you can’t help but laugh, the sound light and a little shaky as you step forward, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “well, lucky for you, i don’t think you’re creepy. and maybe… just maybe… i’ve had a few feelings too.”

his eyes widen, his mouth slightly agape, disbelief written all over his face. his voice falters for a moment, but it’s full of hope. “wait, what?!”

you laugh softly, the playful edge to your voice not masking the sudden warmth in your chest. "you think i’m just going to throw myself at you after you drop that bomb? i’m not that easy, lando."

his eyes light up, his expression shifting from surprise to sheer delight. he takes a step closer, his grin impossibly wide as he leans in, his voice filled with teasing excitement. “oh, really? because if we do get stuck here a little longer, i can think of a few ways to pass the time…” his gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, mischievous and full of playful challenge.

you roll your eyes dramatically, trying to maintain some semblance of control over your emotions, but the smile you can’t hide betrays you. "you’re unbelievable."

lando shrugs, his grin growing even wider as he leans back, arms crossing in mock defense. his eyes dance with a mix of humor and genuine affection. "i do try."

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.

[knottedhearts]

Argument: M.S

Summary: You and Matt are arguing because he's being awfully loud, and you're on your period.

The evening had started off fine. You’d both been sitting in the living room, enjoying a quiet night in. But that peace quickly shattered as Matt’s loud voice carried through the room like a sledgehammer. He’d been talking non-stop about some random topic, laughing at his own jokes and rambling without noticing how overwhelming it was. You were curled up on the couch, trying to get comfortable despite the aching cramps that came with your period. You wanted nothing more than to curl up and zone out to a movie or even just close your eyes for a few minutes of silence.

But Matt’s energy was impossible to ignore. His laughter echoed off the walls, and his voice cut through the air with each sentence. It didn’t matter how much you tried to focus on the TV screen or ignore the noise—it felt like his presence was all-consuming, drowning you in sound.

You shifted uncomfortably on the couch, your lower back aching, your abdomen throbbing. Every movement made the cramps feel worse, and the constant noise made it harder to focus on anything but the pain.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You turned to him, your voice tight with frustration. "Matt, can you keep it down?"

Matt didn’t seem to hear you at first, his energy undeterred by your quiet request. He was too caught up in his own story, too wrapped up in whatever had him so animated. "No, seriously, man, I’m telling you," he laughed loudly, his voice rising as he explained some ridiculous anecdote.

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your cool. "Matt," you said again, this time louder, but with an edge to it. "I’m not feeling good. I’m on my period, and I have cramps. Can you just… lower your voice a little?"

Matt paused mid-sentence, finally catching your tone, but he didn’t seem to understand the seriousness of it. He shrugged, not noticing how you were holding your stomach, trying to soothe the pain. "What’s the big deal? I’m just talking."

You stared at him, the irritation bubbling up like a volcano. "The big deal, Matt, is that I’m literally cramping in pain, and you’re yelling like you’re hosting a damn podcast! Can you show a little consideration?"

He frowned, clearly taken aback. "It’s not like I’m yelling at you. I’m just talking loud because that’s how I talk, alright? You’re the one overreacting."

You could feel the frustration rising, the way the tension in your body was making everything worse. It was hard enough dealing with your physical pain, but now Matt was being dismissive of your need for quiet.

"Overreacting?" you scoffed, shaking your head. "Matt, I’m literally sitting here in pain, trying to get through this, and all you can do is talk at full volume like it’s a damn comedy show. It’s not about how you talk—it's about you being completely unaware of how you're affecting everyone else in the room!"

Matt’s expression turned defensive, his eyes narrowing. "You seriously want me to apologize for how I talk?" His tone was rising now, getting sharp. "I’m not gonna start whispering just because you’re uncomfortable. That’s not my fault."

You felt your jaw tighten, your hands balling into fists. "It’s not about whispering, Matt! It’s about being mindful of the people around you! You never think about how your loud, obnoxious voice affects others. It’s like you don’t even care!"

Matt didn’t back down. "I care! I’m not trying to piss you off. I’m just being me, alright?"

"Being you?" You could feel your patience snapping, the frustration boiling over. "Being you isn’t the problem, Matt. The problem is that you can’t be bothered to understand that people need quiet sometimes, and right now, I need some damn quiet!"

The words hit him harder than you expected. He took a step back, his eyes flashing with irritation. "You think I don’t understand? You think I don’t know you’re having a rough time? But that doesn’t mean I have to change everything about me just to suit you!"

You stood up then, pacing for a moment, the cramps flaring up as you moved, but the anger took over. "I’m not asking you to change yourself, Matt, I’m asking you to be aware of other people’s needs for once. Is that too much to ask?"

"Yeah, it’s too much!" Matt shot back, his voice louder than ever. "I’m not gonna sit here and apologize for talking! Just because you’re dealing with something doesn’t mean I have to tiptoe around you like you’re fragile!"

You felt the tension in the room growing thicker, your chest tightening with frustration. "I’m not fragile, Matt," you said, your voice wavering with a mix of anger and exhaustion. "I just need some goddamn peace. Can you give me that?"

But Matt wasn’t backing down. His voice was cold now, defensive, as though he couldn’t understand why this was such a big deal. "You think I’m just gonna stop being myself because you’re having a bad day? That’s not how it works."

The words felt like a slap, and you finally snapped. "You know what, Matt? Maybe you should just leave me the hell alone!" You threw your hands up in frustration, the weight of the argument crashing down on you.

Matt’s face reddened with anger, his hands clenched into fists. "Fine! You want me to leave you alone? Maybe you should just deal with it yourself, then!"

His words stung, and before you could even react, you spun on your heel and started walking away. "Where are you going?" Matt called after you, but you didn’t stop, walking straight toward the door.

You grabbed your jacket, throwing it on as you walked out of the room, trying to push away the wave of frustration that threatened to overwhelm you. "I need space," you muttered under your breath. You didn’t even know where you were going at first, just wanting to escape, to get away from the noise and the tension.

"Wait," Matt said, his voice softer now, but you didn’t turn around. "I didn’t mean it like that," he called after you, but you kept walking, your heart pounding in your chest.

You didn’t want to hear apologies right then, not after everything that had been said. You just needed a moment alone, away from the noise, away from the confrontation. You didn’t know when or how the two of you would work through this, but right now, all you could focus on was finding some peace.

You didn't know how long you'd need, but you were sure of one thing—until Matt could truly understand the importance of being considerate, the fighting, the noise, and the misunderstandings weren’t going to stop.

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 30/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, age gap, angst, fluff

Word Count: 7782

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

A while later, Jensen stepped behind Danneel into her hotel room, feeling the weight of the evening bearing down on him. He was tired—tired of the endless back and forth, tired of the emotional tug-of-war, and tired of pretending that things were okay when they clearly weren’t. But before he could dwell too long on his weariness, he heard the familiar patter of small feet and a chorus of excited voices.

"Dad!", JJ and the twins shot toward him, their faces lighting up with excitement the moment they spotted him. Instantly, Jensen’s exhaustion melted away as his kids wrapped their arms around his legs and torso, jumping up to hug him. He knelt down, scooping them up into his arms as best as he could, grinning despite everything.

“Hey, hey!”, Jensen laughed, hugging them tightly. “I missed you guys”.

JJ was the first to pull back, looking up at him with a mischievous grin. “We missed you too, Dad! We were waiting forever!”, she exaggerated, her hands gesturing wildly, as if they’d been waiting hours longer than they actually had.

“Forever, huh?”, Jensen teased, ruffling her hair. “Well, I’m here now”.

The twins clung to him, babbling over each other about their day, their toys, and everything he had missed while he had been with Danneel. His heart swelled with love for them, the stress of the evening fading into the background. For these few moments, it was just him and his kids—no tension, no arguments, no looming decisions. Just them.

Danneel stood by the door, watching the reunion with a quiet expression. She didn’t interrupt, giving him this moment with the kids, and for once, Jensen was grateful. It wasn’t often that they had moments of peace like this, and he wasn’t about to let anything spoil it.

After a few minutes, Jensen stood up, his kids still clinging to him. “So”, he said, looking around the room, “what’s the plan for the rest of the night? What have you guys been up to?”.

JJ’s face lit up as she tugged at his arm. “We were watching a movie, but we can start over since you’re here now! Please?”.

Jensen chuckled, glancing at Danneel, who shrugged slightly, as if to say, it’s your call.

“Sure, why not?”, he said, turning back to his kids. “Let’s watch it together”.

They scrambled back toward the couch, the twins chattering excitedly as JJ grabbed the remote to restart the movie. Jensen settled onto the couch, pulling them close as they nestled against him, their energy contagious.

For a brief moment, as the movie started playing, everything felt… normal. Like they were just a family enjoying a movie, without the weight of divorce and custody hanging over them. Jensen allowed himself to relax, to be present in this moment with his kids, knowing that this was what it was all for—the long hours, the hard conversations, the compromises. It was for them, to make sure they had this stability.

Danneel sat down across from them, her expression still neutral but less sharp than earlier. She didn’t say much, just watched the movie quietly, letting the evening play out in peace.

Meanwhile, you sat with Jared and Misha at a quiet bar tucked away in a corner, the low hum of conversation around you barely registering in your mind. Dinner had finished over an hour ago, and the three of you had decided to stick around for drinks, waiting for any sign from Jensen. But as time dragged on, you couldn't help but feel the weight of his absence pressing down on you.

Jared was watching you closely, noticing your distant gaze as you stared blankly at the condensation on your glass. He leaned forward and gently shoved your drink closer to you, offering a small, encouraging smile. “You’re gonna want to finish that before it gets warm”, he teased lightly, though you could hear the concern in his voice.

Misha, sipping on his cocktail, shot Jared a glance before turning his attention to you. “You okay?”, he asked, his tone softer than usual, as if he could sense the tension building inside you.

You forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine”, you replied, though your heart wasn’t in it. The truth was, you weren’t fine. It had been hours, and there was still no word from Jensen. You knew he was with Danneel and the kids, that this was important, but the uncertainty was starting to wear on you. You tried not to let it show, not wanting to come off as clingy or unreasonable, but the waiting was harder than you’d expected.

Jared raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Look, I know this isn’t exactly how you pictured the night going”, he said, leaning back in his chair, “but you know how it is with the kids. They’re probably watching some Disney movie, and Jensen’s caught up in it”.

Misha nodded in agreement, setting his glass down. “Yeah, I mean, if he’s with the kids, that’s all the explanation you need. He probably got sucked into ‘Frozen’ or ‘Toy Story’ and lost track of time”.

You let out a soft laugh at Misha’s joke, knowing that he was probably right. “Yeah, you’re probably right”, you said, your voice a little lighter now.

Jared, sensing that you needed a distraction, leaned in closer. “Look, I know it’s hard, but trust me—Jensen’s all in with you. He’s dealing with a lot right now, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgetting about you”.

You glanced at Jared, appreciating his attempt to ease your mind, but a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little restless. “I know he is”, you replied, sighing softly. “It’s just… I hate waiting around like this, not knowing what’s going on”.

Misha offered you a reassuring smile. “It’s understandable. But you know Jensen—if something was wrong, he’d let you know. He’s probably just caught up with the kids, and that’s something we can’t fault him for”.

You nodded, knowing they were both right. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Jensen or his commitment to you—it was just the limbo that made you uneasy. You wanted to hear from him, to know that everything was okay, and that the evening hadn’t turned into some drawn-out confrontation with Danneel. But as the minutes ticked by, you tried to push those worries to the back of your mind.

“He’ll be here soon. In the meantime, let’s finish these drinks and try not to stress, yeah?”.

You smiled gratefully at Jared, feeling a little more grounded. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, guys”.

Misha grinned, lifting his glass. “To patience, then”, he said, raising a toast.

You clinked your glass with theirs, taking a sip of your drink, trying to let yourself relax. Even though Jensen hadn’t called yet, you reminded yourself that he was likely caught up with his kids, just as Jared and Misha had said. He’d be there soon.

What you didn’t know was that, at that very moment, Jensen had fallen asleep on the couch with his kids curled up beside him. He hadn’t meant to, but after the long day and the emotional exhaustion of dealing with Danneel, the warmth and comfort of having his kids close had lulled him into a deep sleep. For now, he was completely unaware of the time that had passed, unaware that you were waiting for him.

Eventually, Jared and Misha walked you back to your hotel room, both trying to lift your spirits as best they could. They had been great company all evening, but as the hours dragged on and there was still no word from Jensen, your unease had grown. You’d texted him a few times, just to let him know where you were, hoping for some sort of response—anything to indicate he hadn’t forgotten. But still, nothing.

“He’ll probably be here any minute”, Jared reassured you with a confident smile, even though the clock was ticking later than anyone had expected.

Misha nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he’s probably feeling guilty right now for not checking his phone. He’s going to show up, don’t worry”.

You smiled at them, appreciating the support, but the anxious knot in your stomach had only tightened. “I hope so. Thanks, you guys, for tonight. I know it wasn’t the plan”.

“Anytime”, Jared said, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Get some rest, and Jensen will be knocking at your door before you know it”.

Misha added with a wink, “If not, just send me after him”.

You managed a soft chuckle at that, but deep down, you were more worried than amused. You bid them both goodnight and entered your room, closing the door softly behind you. The room felt too quiet now, the air thick with uncertainty. You paced for a bit, checking your phone again—still no response. You sighed, trying to push the unease aside, but the silence on the other end felt heavy.

Meanwhile, back in Danneel’s hotel room, Jensen and the kids were still fast asleep. Jensen’s body slouched slightly on the couch, his kids curled up beside him, their small arms wrapped around him in peaceful slumber. His phone, placed precariously between his legs, had vibrated several times throughout the evening, but he hadn’t stirred. The exhaustion from the day had knocked him out cold, completely unaware of the missed messages and calls.

Danneel, however, wasn’t asleep. She lay in her bed across the room, watching the scene unfold. She had been awake for a while, her thoughts swirling. Watching Jensen sleep with the kids, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of something—jealousy, resentment, or maybe just a reminder of what they had lost. But as the phone continued to vibrate in his lap, her curiosity grew.

With a glance at Jensen to make sure he was still out cold, Danneel quietly slipped out of bed and padded over to the couch. The phone buzzed again, lighting up briefly as it vibrated against the fabric of his jeans. She leaned over, careful not to wake him or the kids, and caught a glimpse of the screen. Though the phone was locked, one thing was clear: your name kept flashing with every new notification. Three missed messages from Y/N.

Danneel’s eyes narrowed as she straightened up, her mind racing. She had never heard your name before in the context of Jensen, not in any conversation, not even as a passing mention.

Danneel’s curiosity only deepened as she stared at Jensen’s phone, your name flashing on the screen like a beacon. She had pieced together enough to know you were important to Jensen, but not knowing exactly who you were was driving her mad. The phone was locked, so there was no easy way for her to get the information she was dying to uncover—a picture, a detail, something that would help her put a face to the name.

Frustrated but unwilling to risk waking Jensen or the kids, Danneel silently slipped back to her bed, her mind racing. Who were you? How long had this been going on, and why hadn’t she known about it sooner? Jensen was a private person, but this was different. He’d hidden you well, but now that she knew your name, it felt like a key to unraveling everything.

Lying there in the dark, she couldn’t shake the urge to know more. She wanted to see what kind of woman Jensen had chosen after her, someone who had clearly been important enough to text him multiple times late into the night. What did you look like? Were you younger? Prettier? Someone more… her type?

A part of her burned with jealousy—whether it was toward Jensen for moving on or toward you for stepping into a life she once controlled, she wasn’t sure. But the feeling gnawed at her, pulling her into thoughts she hadn’t allowed herself to fully acknowledge. Was she just bitter because she couldn’t keep things together with Jensen? Or was it that seeing him with someone new made her face a reality she wasn’t ready for?

Danneel glanced back over at Jensen. It was a peaceful scene, one that reminded her of how things used to be when they were still a family, before everything had fallen apart. But now, with your name in the picture, she couldn’t help but feel like an outsider to that peace—like she had been replaced.

She knew there was no way she’d get anything out of his phone tonight, but she wasn’t done. She’d find a way to learn more about you, to see who this woman was who had apparently captured Jensen’s attention. Danneel wasn’t the kind to sit back and let things unfold without her knowing the full story.

For now, she had to be patient. She lay back down, though her mind refused to quiet. The knowledge that Jensen had someone else, that you were out there waiting for him, only added to the mess in her head. As she stared at the ceiling, she made a quiet promise to herself: she would find out more about you.

She wasn’t going to let this go.

Back in your hotel room, the silence was deafening. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at your phone, hoping for some kind of response. You had texted Jensen multiple times, your worry building with each unanswered message.

Why hadn’t Jensen responded? Even a quick message, just to let you know he was okay, would have been enough. You tried not to let your mind wander too far into negative territory, but it was hard not to wonder if something was wrong—or if there was more to the situation with Danneel than he had let on.

With a deep sigh, you set your phone on the nightstand, trying to convince yourself to get some rest. Jensen would explain everything when he could. He was with his kids, and that was important. But as you lay there, the uncertainty gnawed at you, making sleep feel like a distant possibility.

You pulled the blanket up, staring at the ceiling in the dim light, your mind racing with thoughts you wished you could quiet. You wanted to trust that everything was okay, but as the hours ticked by, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something had shifted. Something you didn’t yet understand.

It wasn’t until Arrow padded across the room, her little voice mumbling something about needing to pee, that Jensen stirred from his deep sleep. Groggily, he blinked his eyes open, the soft glow from the hotel room barely illuminating the space around him. The weight of JJ was still pressed against his side, her head resting on his arm. He glanced over and saw Danneel fast asleep in the big hotel bed, Zeppelin curled up beside her, oblivious to the world.

Jensen rubbed his face with his free hand, the fog of sleep slowly lifting. That’s when he noticed his phone, still wedged between his legs. His eyes widened as he saw the screen light up with missed messages from you.

“Fuck”, he cursed under his breath, the realization hitting him all at once.

It was 3 in the morning.

Arrow, too sleepy to notice his dad’s panic, shuffled into the bathroom, leaving Jensen alone in the quiet room with the weight of the situation crashing down on him. He felt a pang of guilt ripple through him—he hadn’t meant to fall asleep. The plan had been to check on the kids, spend a bit of time with them, and then head out to meet you. But now, hours had passed, and you’d been left waiting.

Carefully, he adjusted JJ, making sure not to wake her as he reached for his phone. The missed calls and messages stared back at him like a silent reprimand. You had texted him multiple times, probably wondering where he was and why he hadn’t responded. His heart sank as he scrolled through them:

You: Hey, just wanted to check in and see how things are going with the kids. You: We’re heading back to the hotel now. You: Is everything okay? Let me know when you get a chance. You: I’m starting to get worried. Haven’t heard from you. Please text me.

Jensen’s heart clenched at the last one. You must have been worried sick, wondering why he hadn’t responded. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself for letting things get this far. His mind raced with how he was going to explain the situation to you. You knew he’d been with the kids, but this wasn’t what he’d planned. And now, it was 3 a.m., and he wasn’t even sure if you were still awake.

He shot a quick glance toward Danneel, who was still sound asleep, and sighed. This whole night had gone sideways. Trying to move as quietly as possible, Jensen extricated himself from JJ’s sleeping form, laying her gently on the couch before grabbing his phone. He stepped out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him to avoid waking anyone up.

Standing there in the dim light of the hallway, he tapped out a quick text to you:

Jensen: I’m so sorry. I fell asleep with the kids. Just woke up now. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging like this. I’ll explain everything, but I wanted you to know I’m okay.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if you were even awake to read the message, but he hit send anyway. It was the least

But you were already asleep, your phone lying untouched on the nightstand, its screen dark and silent. Jensen quietly gathered his things, careful not to wake the kids, who were already fast asleep again. Arrow had climbed back onto the couch beside JJ, their small bodies curled together in peaceful slumber.

Jensen cast a quick glance at Danneel, still sleeping soundly in the large hotel bed, and decided not to linger. There was nothing left to say to her tonight. He slipped out of the room, gently closing the door behind him. His mind was focused now—he needed to get to you, explain everything, and apologize for leaving you in the dark for so long.

As soon as he was outside, the cold air hit him, waking him up a little more. He quickly pulled out his phone, dialing for a taxi. The streets were quiet at this hour, with only a few cars passing by. It didn’t take long for the cab to arrive, and Jensen slipped into the back seat, giving the driver the name of your hotel.

He leaned back against the seat, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

The taxi ride felt longer than it was, the silence in the car giving Jensen too much time to think. His mind wandered, filled with guilt for how the night had unfolded. He could only hope that you’d understand once he explained the situation. He wasn’t the type to leave you hanging, and tonight had been an exception—one he hadn’t anticipated but would make sure didn’t happen again.

When the taxi pulled up outside your hotel, Jensen paid the driver quickly and hurried inside, making his way to the elevator. His steps were quick but quiet as he reached the door to your room.

Jensen stood outside the door to your hotel room, the keycard in his hand, hesitating for a moment. He let out a soft sigh, his shoulders heavy with guilt. He hadn’t meant for the night to turn out this way, and now here he was, creeping in hours later, hoping you’d understand. He swiped the card through the lock and quietly stepped inside, careful not to make any noise.

The room was dim, the soft glow from the streetlights outside casting a faint light across the bed where you lay, curled up in the blankets. You were fast asleep, your breathing soft and even. Jensen paused, watching you for a moment, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he’d let you down tonight.

There were still two hours before his alarm would go off for the second day of the convention. Quietly, Jensen moved to the corner of the room and began to undress. He peeled off his jacket and shirt, setting them on the chair by the desk. His eyes never strayed far from you, the sight of you so peaceful in sleep only deepening his guilt. He wanted to wake you, to apologize and explain, but he couldn’t bring himself to disturb you.

As he slipped out of his jeans, he moved quietly to the edge of the bed, sitting down gently beside you. For a moment, he just watched you, his heart aching. He reached out, carefully brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

As you felt his touch, your eyes fluttered open, blinking heavily as the haze of sleep slowly lifted. It took a moment for you to realize what was happening, your mind still fuzzy with tiredness. You blinked again, and in the dim light of the room, you saw him—Jensen, sitting beside you, his expression etched with guilt and exhaustion.

“Hey”, you whispered, your voice thick with sleep as you tried to gather your bearings. “What time is it?”.

Jensen sighed softly, his hand still resting near your face. “It’s late. A little after three”, he admitted, his voice low and apologetic.

You blinked a few more times, your brain slowly processing the situation. You had fallen asleep waiting for him, unsure of what had happened or why he hadn’t shown up or answered your messages. Now here he was, hours later, looking as guilty as you’d ever seen him.

“You’re just getting in?”, you asked softly, your voice gentle but carrying a hint of the hurt you were feeling.

Jensen nodded, his hand moving to lightly touch your shoulder. “Yeah. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for things to go like this. I…I fell asleep with the kids”, he said, his tone full of regret. “I should’ve texted you earlier, but everything with Danneel and the kids just…it got overwhelming, and then I was out cold”.

You sighed, shifting slightly in bed so you could face him more fully. You weren’t angry, not really. More than anything, you were relieved to see him, to hear him explain. But the lingering feeling of being left in the dark still stung.

"I was worried”, you mumbled softly, pulling the blanket up to cover yourself a little more, almost as if it could shield you from the vulnerability you were feeling. You hated the wave of emotion that came with it—the uncertainty, the waiting, the hurt. You felt stupid for staying up, waiting all evening, and now that he was finally here, the mixture of relief and frustration sat heavy in your chest.

Jensen’s heart twisted as he watched you, the disappointment in your eyes cutting deeper than he expected. He knew he’d messed up. He knew how much his silence must have weighed on you, and seeing you like this made him feel even worse.

“I know”, he murmured, his voice low and filled with regret. His hand gently cupped your cheek, thumb tracing lightly along your skin. “I should have been here. I didn’t mean to leave you waiting, and I’m sorry I made you feel like that”.

You nodded slightly, but you still couldn’t shake the feeling. “I just… I felt stupid, you know? Waiting around, not when you were coming”.

Jensen’s chest tightened at your words. He hated that you felt that way. More than anything, he wanted to make it right, to show you how much you meant to him. The urge to close the space between you, to kiss you, and make you feel loved and secure overwhelmed him in that moment.

Without thinking, Jensen leaned down, his lips brushing yours softly at first, then deeper as if he could pour all his apologies and emotions into that kiss. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, holding you gently but with an intensity that conveyed everything he couldn’t put into words. He wanted you to feel how much you mattered to him, how much you meant.

You kissed him back, hesitantly at first, but the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in the kiss began to chip away at the frustration you had felt. The connection between you two was undeniable, even through the mess of emotions. Slowly, you melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

Jensen’s hands moved slowly, gently, as he deepened the kiss, his fingertips lightly brushing over your skin. The warmth of his touch sent a soft shiver down your spine, and despite the lingering frustration from earlier, you couldn’t help but let yourself sink into the moment. The intensity of his kiss, the way his hands moved with care and reverence, slowly began to erase the hurt you’d felt.

His hand slid down to the blanket you had pulled up around yourself, and with a gentle tug, he pushed it aside, revealing your body clad only in a thin thong and a small, fitted top. His breath hitched slightly at the sight of you, his eyes darkening with both desire and tenderness. For a moment, he just looked at you, taking in the way your body curved beneath him, but it wasn’t just lust in his gaze—it was something deeper, something that spoke to how much he wanted to make things right between you.

"God", he whispered softly, his voice thick with emotion as his hand trailed along your side, brushing against the exposed skin of your waist. "You’re so beautiful".

His touch was slow and deliberate, as though he was trying to remind you of how much you meant to him with every stroke of his hand. He leaned down, kissing you again—this time slower, more purposeful—as his hands continued to explore your body with the same delicate care. His fingers traced the line of your hip, slipping under the edge of your top, his touch warm against your skin.

You let out a soft sigh against his lips, your body reacting to the warmth of his closeness, the intimacy of the moment drawing you in further. The lingering hurt you’d felt began to melt away with each tender touch, each gentle kiss. Jensen’s hands moved to lift your top, sliding it up and over your head before tossing it aside. His gaze roamed over you, filled with both admiration and guilt, as if he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be here with you, despite how he’d messed up.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone, then lower, trailing down the center of your chest as his hands continued to caress your sides, pulling you even closer to him. Every touch, every kiss was an unspoken apology, a silent promise that he was here, fully present with you now.

You ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as his lips explored your skin. The earlier frustration was gone now, replaced by the intensity of the connection you shared with him since day one. Jensen’s hand slipped lower, tracing the curve of your hip, pulling you tighter against him.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting yours, his breath coming a little heavier now. "I love you", he whispered, his voice raw and sincere, as though he needed you to know it in this moment, needed you to feel how much you meant to him.

"I love you too", you whispered back, your hand still resting in his hair, tugging him gently back toward you. You pulled him into another deep, lingering kiss, and in that moment, all the worry and hurt from earlier faded, leaving only the warmth and closeness of being with him.

Jensen’s lips moved softly against your skin, the warmth of each kiss sending shivers through you. As he kissed down your body, his breath grew heavier, but so did the emotion behind his every touch. When he reached the waistband of your panties, he paused, resting his forehead gently against your lower stomach.

“I’m sorry”, he murmured, his voice thick with regret. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t important… like you didn’t matter. You mean everything to me”. His lips brushed lightly over your skin again, soft and reverent.

The sincerity in his words cut through the haze of intimacy, grounding the moment in something deeper. It wasn’t just about desire—this was Jensen trying to make amends, to show you how deeply he cared for you beyond just physical attraction. His hands moved gently along your thighs, gripping softly but with a tenderness that matched his words.

“I never want to hurt you”, he whispered, looking up at you, his fingers gently tracing the outline of your waistband. “I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere”.

Your heart clenched at his words, and you could see how much he meant it. His guilt, his need to make things right, it all reflected in the way he touched you, like he was pouring every ounce of love he had into each movement. His fingers slowly dipped under the waistband of your panties, and he kissed your hips softly, as though asking for permission, waiting for your approval before moving any further.

You let out a soft breath, running your fingers through his hair, gently urging him on. “I know, Jensen”, you whispered, your voice filled with affection and reassurance. “I trust you”.

That seemed to be all the reassurance he needed. Jensen kissed you again, lower this time, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your panties. His hands moved deliberately, carefully sliding them down your hips, his eyes never leaving yours as he did.

Jensen’s actions were deliberate and filled with the sincerity of his earlier words. This wasn’t just about physical intimacy; it was his way of bridging the emotional gap.

As he gently spread your legs more, allowing himself to get comfortable between them, his eyes never left yours. The vulnerability in his gaze mirrored your own, creating a deep connection that went beyond the physical. It was as if, in this moment, all the frustration, the waiting, and the uncertainty were melting away, leaving only the raw, genuine affection you both shared.

“You mean everything to me”, Jensen whispered again, his voice barely audible but filled with unwavering conviction. “I don’t want to lose you. Not like this”.

This was how he expressed the depth of his emotions, how he communicated the things he struggled to say with words. You knew him well enough by now to understand that moments like these were his way of showing just how much you meant to him, even if the way he went about it was slightly unconventional—maybe even a little twisted.

You bit your lip, feeling the warmth of his body and the intensity of his gaze. There was no denying the connection between you, the way his every touch seemed to erase the distance that had built up over the evening. The frustration, the worry—they were dissolving, replaced by the unspoken promise that he was here, fully present, and committed to making things right.

“Jensen…”, you whispered, unsure of how to put into words the mix of emotions swirling inside you. It wasn’t just the relief of him being there; it was the reassurance that, despite everything, he truly did appreciate and care for you. You could feel it in every kiss, in every touch.

Jensen’s lips moved with deliberate tenderness, pressing softly against your most intimate spot. The warmth of his kiss sent a rush of sensations through you, blending seamlessly with the lingering emotions of the evening.

You let out a soft sigh, the mixture of relief and desire swirling within you. The earlier frustrations and worries seemed to dissolve under the sincerity of his actions.

Your hands ran through his hair, pressing him softly closer as he dipped his tongue gently, pressing it flat against your clit.

You moaned quietly, the sound a soft affirmation of the connection you both were rekindling. Jensen responded by pulling you closer, his hands gently resting on your hipbones, guiding you into a more intimate embrace.

Jensen’s tongue moved with deliberate patience, his movements slow and intentional as he began to explore your most intimate spot. Each gentle lick was accompanied by a soft murmur of apology and affection, his eyes never leaving yours.

You felt a warm flush spread through your body, the earlier frustrations and worries melting away more and more under the soothing rhythm of his touch.

Jensen’s hands moved gently along your thighs, his touch both comforting and electrifying. He was attuned to your responses, adjusting his movements to ensure your pleasure. Every lick was slow and deliberate, each one building anticipation and deepening the intimacy between you.

As his actions intensified, the passion overwhelmed your senses. With a breathless whisper, you guided him upwards, your hands trembling slightly as you pulled him closer. He understood your unspoken request instantly; his movements synchronized with your desires as he pushed his boxershorts down, freeing himself.

The moment his lips met yours, the intensity escalated. The taste of yourself on his lips heightened the experience, blurring the lines between your separate existences. As he positioned himself at your entrance, you both paused, sharing a look. Then, with a gentle thrust, he eased inside of you, the depth of his penetration making you cry out softly against his lips. The sensation was overwhelming yet perfect, filling you completely in one fluid motion.

Jensen’s movements were slow, almost reverent, as he began to move within you. Each thrust was measured, designed to bring pleasure and express his apologies and promises non-verbally. His hands, previously tracing paths along your thighs, now cradled your face and ran through your hair, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss that mirrored the rhythm of his movements.

"I love you”, Jensen mumbled into the kiss, his voice low and filled with emotion. His hand gripped your hip firmly, holding you in place as his thrusts became slightly rougher, each movement still deeply reverent but now driven by a growing intensity.

Your response was a soft moan into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him even closer if possible. The way he said those words, with such profound sincerity, made your heart swell within your chest. It wasn’t just a declaration; it was a reaffirmation of everything he felt, everything he wanted to make up to you.

The sound of your combined breaths filled the room. You could feel every inch of him, every pulse and throb as he moved within you, each thrust meeting a need you hadn’t voiced but he had understood.

The intensity of the moment built with each passing second, the room echoing with the sound of your bodies coming together. His free hand wandered up to caress your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw as he looked into your eyes. The connection was palpable, a raw and unguarded exchange of emotions that spoke louder than words could.

“You mean everything to me”, Jensen breathed out, each word punctuated by a deep thrust that sent waves of pleasure radiating through you. His gaze held yours, locked in a moment of complete vulnerability and trust.

As Jensen’s movements became even more focused, each thrust seemed to hit just the right spot inside you, his tip brushing against your G-spot with a precision that left you breathless. The intensity of his actions brought waves of pleasure that coursed through your body. His name escaped your lips in a loud moan, the sound filling the room, mingling with the rhythmic sounds of your unity.

Feeling you clench around him, Jensen’s breath hitched, his movements momentarily faltering as he shuddered with the sensations.

Jensen’s hand, which had been caressing your cheek, moved to entwine his fingers with yours, holding them beside your head on the pillow, anchoring you to the moment, to him.

"Look at me”, Jensen urged gently, his voice low and intense. He squeezed your intertwined hands, while his other arm supported him, keeping him elevated just above you. His gaze was unwavering, filled with a mix of raw desire and deep affection, inviting you to connect not just physically, but soulfully as well.

You met his gaze, locking eyes with him as he continued his deliberate, focused movements. The depth of emotion you saw reflected back at you amplified the sensations rippling through your body. In his eyes, you saw not just the physical pleasure, but a profound commitment and an open vulnerability that he shared only with you.

As Jensen maintained eye contact, his thrusts remained slow and measured, each one driving deeper. The intensity of his gaze, coupled with the depth of his strokes, created a crescendo of sensations that threatened to overwhelm you.

“Stay with me”, he breathed, almost as a whisper, as if he was sharing a secret that only you could understand. This simple plea was laden with meaning, reinforcing his desire to remain connected in every way possible.

Your response was a breathless nod.

His gaze drifted momentarily to your chest, watching the subtle movements synchronized with his thrusts. The sight elicited a deeper groan from him as his eyes fluttered closed, a wave of pleasure evident on his face. Then, with a firmer resolve, he pushed deeper, increasing the force slightly.

When his eyes reopened and met yours again, something in his expression had shifted—a raw intensity, a silent plea mixed with the depths of his feelings laid bare. The connection in that look, so charged and so full, tipped you over the edge. You felt the climax build rapidly, an overwhelming rush that seized your entire being.

As you came around him, your eyes locked with his, the world outside melted away. Your body clenched around him, and his response was immediate; his own climax triggered by the intensity of your release. Jensen’s movements slowed as he rode out the waves of his own release, each pulse and throb echoing yours, deeply interconnected.

After a moment, Jensen’s thrusts slowed to a stop.

As Jensen’s movements finally ceased, his grip on your hand loosened, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. His eyes remained closed, lashes fluttering slightly against the high color of his cheeks.

Slowly, his eyes opened, meeting yours once again with a softness that contrasted starkly with the raw intensity from moments before.

Jensen’s hand shifted from yours to trace a gentle line along your jaw, his touch tender as if he were handling something precious. “You okay?”, he asked softly. It was a simple question, but laden with deeper meanings, seeking assurance not just about your physical state but also about the emotional undercurrents of what had just transpired.

You nodded, unable to keep from smiling slightly.

With a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, Jensen gently pulled out of you, the sudden absence leaving behind a sense of warmth and tenderness. He let himself sink onto the bed beside you, his body still humming with the aftermath of your shared intensity. His hand brushed through his damp hair, pushing it back as he exhaled deeply, still catching his breath.

As you cleaned up, you glanced over at him, his chest still rising and falling with a gentle rhythm, a contented smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Jensen turned his head to face you, his eyes full of affection as he watched you. “I’ll never get tired of moments like this with you”, he murmured, his voice low but filled with sincerity.

You felt a slight blush creeping up your cheeks at Jensen's words, his sincerity catching you off guard in the best way possible. Before you could respond, he gently pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your body tightly against his. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world was just the two of you, nestled in this shared, quiet space.

His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that mirrored the ease of the moment. You let yourself sink into him, your arms finding their way around his waist, holding him as close as he was holding you. The softness of the sheets, the warmth of his skin, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest created a cocoon of calm around you both.

Jensen pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment. "I love you", he whispered, the words almost a breath against your hair. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but each time felt just as powerful, as if he was reminding you of something constant and unwavering between the two of you.

You tilted your head up slightly to meet his gaze, your heart swelling with affection as you whispered back, "I love you too", The smile that spread across his face in response was pure, filled with the kind of warmth that made everything else fade away.

For a while, you both stayed like that—wrapped up in each other, the quiet hum of the world outside the only sound that occasionally drifted in. There was no rush to move, no need for words to fill the silence. Everything felt right, exactly as it was.

Jensen’s hand absentmindedly traced gentle circles on your back, his touch soothing and familiar. "Let’s just stay like this", he murmured, his voice soft, "for as long as we can".

You nodded against him, your body relaxed in his arms. "I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else".

As you drifted back to sleep, your body curled up against Jensen’s, he lay there wide awake, his mind racing even though the room was peaceful. His heart ached as he watched you sleep so peacefully, your face relaxed and your trust in him evident in the way you clung to him even in your sleep. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, careful not to wake you again, his touch soft and reverent.

In the quiet moments that followed, Jensen couldn't shake the heavy weight pressing down on him. You had given him so much—your love, your support, your patience—and yet he felt like he was always falling short. His life had become a series of complications, and somehow, you were constantly caught in the middle of it. The guilt gnawed at him, growing heavier with each passing thought.

He didn’t deserve this level of trust, of unwavering love. Not when he kept disappointing you. Jensen's mind wandered to the countless times his complicated life had interfered—his obligations, his kids, the unresolved issues with Danneel. Every time he thought he was getting things right, something else would fall apart. And yet, through it all, you never wavered. You believed in him, supported him, encouraged him, even when he couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Jensen’s chest tightened with the weight of it all. He couldn’t help but wonder if you deserved more—someone whose life wasn’t so tangled, someone who could give you the stability and simplicity you deserved. The thought of losing you, of not being enough for you, scared him more than anything. But even scarier was the idea that he might hurt you by continuing to drag you through his messy world.

He let out a shaky breath, feeling the lump form in his throat as his eyes lingered on your peaceful face. He loved you more than anything, but how long could you keep giving him so much without him truly being able to give back? He wanted to be the man you deserved, but with everything that weighed on him—the kids, the divorce, the constant demands of his career—he worried that no matter how much he tried, he would always end up falling short.

His hand tightened slightly around your waist, pulling you closer as if to reassure himself that you were still here, still with him. He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there as he closed his eyes, trying to push away the suffocating guilt.

"Sorry", he whispered softly, his voice barely audible. It wasn’t something he intended for you to hear—just something he needed to say, even if only to himself. "I´m so fucking sorry". He wished he could do better, be better, for you. But right now, all he could do was hold you close and hope that someday, somehow, he would be able to live up to everything you saw in him.

As the night wore on and the room remained silent, Jensen stayed awake, his mind restless despite the calm around him. He watched you, a mixture of love and guilt swirling inside him, knowing that no matter how complicated things became, he would do whatever it took to keep you in his life—if only he could figure out how to balance the chaos and keep from breaking the heart of the one person he couldn’t bear to lose.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

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[infamous-light]

The Witch's Game Ch. 1

Agatha Harkness x Maximoff! Reader

AO3: The Witch's Game

Summary: Life in Westview had always been dull and uneventful until Agnes, a charming and mysterious woman, arrived.

Her presence brought a spark to your otherwise monotonous world, and you quickly found yourself drawn to her, developing an undeniable crush. But as you grew closer to Agnes, you began to realize that there was much more to her than meets the eye.

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: none for this chapter

The first time you met Agnes, it was like she had brought all the energy of a summer storm with her.

Her laughter rang out, vibrant and full of life, echoing down the hallway long before you saw her. When she finally came into view, it was like she filled every inch of the room with her presence. You hadn’t expected to meet someone like her – most of the residents in Westview were kind but distant, always waving hello but never lingering for long. It was never anything beyond the surface level.

Agnes was different. She was a force of nature, wearing her boldness like a favorite coat – comfortable, familiar, and unashamedly her own. She captured your attention in a way that no one else here ever had. You hadn’t just noticed Agnes – you were drawn to her.

It started with Agnes already deep in a conversation with your mother, her laughter bubbling as she joked about her latest attempt at baking a cake for a local charity event.

“I swear, I measured everything twice,” she declared, gesturing with her hands dramatically. “And somehow, I still ended up with a cake flatter than a pancake. Don’t even get me started on the frosting fiasco – I had more on me than on the cake!”

Your mother laughed heartily, a warm, rich sound that echoed throughout the kitchen. You could tell she was enjoying Agnes’s story, hanging onto every word as if it were the most captivating tale she had heard in years. It wasn’t often that your mother responded in such a way. She was usually more reserved, but Agnes seemed to have a way of drawing her out of her shell.

Then, as if sensing a new presence, Agnes turned toward you. And in that instant, the world seemed to pause. It was as though a switch had been flipped, and her whole face lit up. She flashed a grin, a wide, welcoming one that felt like it was meant for you alone.

“Well, hello there!” Agnes greeted loudly, her gaze sweeping over you from head to toe with exaggerated interest. “Wanda, is this your daughter you’ve been telling me so much about? She’s darling.”

Her attention felt like a spotlight, and you could feel your face warming under her scrutiny.

“H-Hi, it's nice to meet you.” You barely managed to stammer out.

If she noticed your awkwardness, Agnes didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she smiled – wide and knowing.

“Oh, and so polite, too.” She cooed, reaching out to pinch the air near your cheek.

Your mother chuckled softly, glancing between you and Agnes with a slight smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Yes, she’s my pride and joy,” your mother said warmly, her voice filled with a fondness that made you relax, if only for a moment – until she continued, “Along with my two boys, of course. Though,” she added, her gaze locking onto you, an impish gleam flickering in her eyes. “She’s a little shy, aren’t you, sweetie?”

The warmth that bloomed across your face earlier now traveled down to your neck. You nodded, offering a small, sheepish smile. The way Agnes’s grin stretched further made it all too clear that your flustered reaction was both endearing and mildly entertaining to her.

“Don’t be shy, honey,” Agnes chimed, her tone syrupy sweet, though the glint in her eyes was anything but innocent. “I don’t bite… much.”

She punctuated the words with a wink, and it sent a jolt of nervous excitement through you, making your heart stutter in its rhythm. The laugh she shared with your mother was easy-going but held a note of private amusement.

“Oh, Wanda, you won’t believe what’s going on over at Ellis Avenue,” Agnes said, practically sliding onto a stool at the kitchen counter, her excitement palpable. “You know that new couple? The Bakers? Well, it turns out the husband is not as squeaky clean as he seems. I’ve seen him sneaking out late at night – well after his wife goes to bed, mind you. And let me tell you, he wasn’t alone. He was with someone else. A young man, in fact.”

She leaned forward, eyes wide with mock horror, her voice lowering into a conspiratorial whisper. “I spotted them up near the old diner, parked by the trees where nobody usually goes. And they weren’t just chatting, either. They were cozy, real cozy, windows fogged up and all. I thought to myself, ‘Now, that’s a little more than neighborly, Agnes.’”

Her smirk widened as she relished the shock on your mother’s face, then added with a wag of her eyebrows. “And don’t think I missed that young man slipping out of his car this morning, hair a mess, looking downright... disheveled. If you catch my drift.”

Agnes’s eyes sparkled with glee as she leaned back, her lips curling into a wickedly satisfied smile. Your mother blinked, surprise still marring her face before her lips twitched, barely containing her laughter.

“Oh, you’re terrible, Agnes!” She exclaimed, shaking her head in mock dismay.

Agnes, unphased, tossed her hair over her shoulder and waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, don’t even start with me, honey,” she drawled. “You know I’m just here to keep this town lively. Without me, all these little secrets would go to waste.”

You watched the exchange in silence, trying to stifle a laugh. You couldn’t help but find the situation oddly entertaining. But Agnes wasn’t done yet. She turned her gaze back to you, her eyes gleaming with an unmistakable spark of mischief.

“What about you, darling?” She purred, voice dropping an octave, the words slipping out like silk. “You’ve got your own secrets, don’t you?”

The question hit you like a jolt of cold water, and instantly, you felt the heat rush back to your cheeks. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words became tangled in your throat, and all that escaped was a shaky, stammered reply. “I – uh – well –”

Agnes’s grin stretched wider at your stammered response, clearly delighted by your reaction.

“It’s okay, kiddo,” she cooed, her tone sweet but teasing. “You don’t have to tell me everything right away, but I do know one thing.” Her voice took on a sing-song quality.

Your curiosity piqued; you couldn’t help but ask. “And what’s that?”

Agnes’s eyes sparkled with mirth, but her lips formed into a tight smile. “Now, that’s something for me to know and for you to find out.” Leaning forward on the stool, she tilted her head. “Where’s the fun if I just give it away?”

A strange flutter stirred in your chest, confusion swirling in your thoughts, mingling with the growing feeling of exhilaration. What could she possibly be implying? The question lingered, taking root in your mind.

Meanwhile, your mother observed the interaction with an amused glint in her eye, resting her hand on your right shoulder.

“Well, would you look at that,” she remarked with a wide grin plastered on her face. “Your face is practically glowing. I didn’t know Agnes had that kind of effect on you.”

“Mom!” You blurted out, your face burning with embarrassment.

Your mother chuckled, a sound that was both affectionate and amused. She patted your shoulder with a light, reassuring squeeze, clearly enjoying the moment. Agnes straightened up, still smiling that knowing smile of hers. Though, it was just a little too self-assured.

“Don’t worry, darling. I find it absolutely adorable,” Agnes purred, her voice velvety smooth. “You’re so easy to tease, unlike your two brothers,” she continued, a sly smile curving at the corner of her mouth. Her gaze flickered briefly over to your mother, as if sharing a secret between them. “You’ve got a gem on your hands, Wanda. A real treasure.”

Agnes flashed another wink in your direction, and your heart skipped a beat again.

“Well, I best get going,” Agnes said, her tone shifting to something more businesslike. “It was lovely to finally meet your daughter.”

She stood, her fingers briefly brushing over the fabric of her swing dress, smoothing out the creases as she adjusted herself.

“I'll be seeing you, dear.” Agnes said, her voice light and airy as her gaze lingered on you.

With that, she gave you and your mother a languid, final wave, her fingers fluttering in the air. Her hips swayed with an exaggerated confidence as she sauntered out of the kitchen. The sharp click of her heels echoed throughout the house until it faded into the distance as she exited through the front door.

And there it was – the subtle shift in your chest, the flutter you hadn’t expected. At first, you thought it was just the novelty of her, the sheer force of her personality that was so different from the norm here in Westview. But as Agnes spoke to you, her eyes locking with yours for just a moment longer than necessary, something in you stirred – a soft heat creeping across your skin, your pulse quickening in a way that had nothing to do with nerves. It was something more, something that made you want to linger in her presence, to hear more of her thoughts, to be the one she turned to with that enigmatic smirk.

Agnes made everything feel a little more alive, a little more real.

It was a rare thing, and now that it had settled inside of you, you found yourself wanting more.

That was the day you realized you had developed a crush on your nosy neighbor.

***

A week later…

The opportunity to see Agnes again came almost out of nowhere.

You were sprawled on your bed, a book open in your lap, the quiet rustling of pages the only sound in your bedroom. You had been lost in the book, the world outside fading into the background when the moment was suddenly interrupted by your mother’s voice calling from downstairs.

“Sweetheart, could you bring these cookies over to Agnes’s house?”

Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest at the mention of her name. You hadn’t seen Agnes in what felt like forever, and the thought of seeing her again stirred a flurry of excitement and nerves in the pit of your stomach. Without hesitation, you sprang from the bed, the book slipping from your hands and landing on the floor with a quiet thud. You made your way into the kitchen and quickly took the cookie tin from your mother’s hands.

With a quick smile and a muttered, “Thanks, mom.” You turned to exit the kitchen.

Before she could respond, you were out the door in a flash, almost tripping over your own feet in your haste.

You couldn’t wait to see Agnes again.

[areyouwell]

Hii I love your Phobophobia series so much, can you do a little one shot of flashback from the relating series? Something like a day in their life back when they're still in that gateway forest cabin house.

They spend quite some time there, I remember a brief scene where Logan made a DIY gift for the reader's birthday and it was the CUTEST thing ever, or the framed picture of him reader's put on the counter. I just need to get know more of what happened like a reality tv show lmaoo. When it's only the two of them most of the time, isolated. Surely there'd be time where they'd get sick of each other, but they couldn't ask for more, and they wouldn't ask for more, they only have each other.

i have no restraint when it comes to these two... as much as i wanna focus on my new long series i just can't quit them

'Prisoner of My Past' – A Phobophobia Oneshot

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!F!Reader

Warnings: MDNI

Word Count: 8.1K

A/N: if y'all keep requesting them, y'all are gonna get em. here's another firefly and logan oneshot, taking place after 5.5 and before 6. smut, angst, fluff, what else could a girl need?

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside @justice4billiam @holyhumorliteraturelight @cxptainbuck @sseleniaa @sadslasher13 @yallgotkik @whyamistillontumbler @maddiedinosaur @bethexo07 @pwpwppeepeoor @y08h

The slightest breeze kicked up the light, sheer curtains of the cabin window, the approaching autumn heavy in the air as your brows furrowed instinctively. Pulling the covers closer around your neck and burrowing further into the furnace warmth of Logan’s chest, a croaky groan of disapproval rumbled from your throat. 

Too early. Once again you’d woken up too early. 

A soft smile of adoration pulled at Logan’s lips as he tightened his hold around your body, already knowing you’d woken up in an irritable mood because you had indeed woken up before ten in the morning. He didn’t say anything, knowing you’d rather attempt to gaslight yourself into believing you were still asleep for a few more minutes before you’d finally accept that you were conscious. Still, he pressed a light kiss to the crown of your head, his way of telling you he was awake too. Whilst you didn’t quite have the same appreciation for mornings that he had, there was still no other way he’d rather spend his time. Curled up with you beneath the plush duvet and various quilted blankets with the window cracked open, just the way you liked it. The only downside was the sun. And oh boy was it making a bright debut this morning

You shifted again, pressing your nose into the hollow of his throat as if you could simply assimilate yourself into his body and escape the reality of having to open your eyes. But you weren’t that kind of mutant, unfortunately. At least, not that you were aware of…

“Ready yet?” He murmured into your hair, voice thick and scratchy with sleep in a way that made you shiver slightly. Smug bastard knew the effect his voice had on you, and had, on more than one occasion, used it to borderline seduce you out of bed. Not that you hadn’t turned the tables, and seduced him into bed. But this was different. This was unfair. Because it was happening to you. It was fine when you did it…

You answered with another long groan of malcontent and a huff of resignation, before finally removing your head from the comfort of his neck, blinking away the remnants of the sleep you so sorely wished to return to. 

“Hey.” He grinned with a raised brow. After the first few times of you reminding him that the concept of a ‘good morning’ didn’t exist and was stupid, he decided to drop the whole ‘mornin’ thing altogether, despite being content to lie back and listen to you rant about it for the next twenty minutes.

“Time?” You asked gruffly, not having the energy to lean up a fraction and look past him to the bedside clock.

“You really wanna know?” 

“Good news or bad news?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

You huffed again, your forehead falling forward to rest back into his chest. “So that’s bad news then.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from where your forehead rested, and you almost thought waking up this early was worth it just to hear that. Almost.

“It’s before ten.” You could hear his shit-eating grin, clearly thrilled you were up earlier than the goddamn worm before it’s eaten by the bird. 

“How long before ten? There’s a difference between five minutes and fifty.”

“Then you definitely don’t wanna know.”

You looked up from his chest with a deep, irritated scowl, before mustering up the courage, and the energy, to prop yourself up on your elbow to look at the digital clock by his bedside. 

You almost fainted. 

“Three minutes past nine? Three minutes past nine?! Times like this shouldn’t fucking exist. There was a reason I scheduled all of my damn classes in the afternoon. What do people even do this early in the morning? Sit around and wait for the day to start?” You lamented, flopping back onto the pillows before Logan could take advantage of your change in position and remove his arm from beneath your body. It’s fine, he didn’t need to feel his hand anyway…

“Hate to break it to ya Firefly, but most people would be at work by now.”

“Disgusting heathens.”

Logan snorted a laugh, shifting himself to lie atop you, blanketing you with his own body. You found it comforting, like the world’s warmest weighted blanket that could also double up at a stress toy when your hands needed something to knead into. You savoured the way he’d almost purr when your fingers dug into the hard muscles of his shoulders or back, working through stiff knots until he melted into your chest. But this time your deft fingers wove through his hair, simply playing with the soft brown strands as you slowly woke yourself up, the scruff on his jaw scratching against the skin of your collar. Your nails scratched lightly against his scalp and you felt the telltale, purring sigh dust your chest where he’d turned his head to listen to your heart.

“Ya know…” he began, his voice taking on a different gravelly tone to the one he woke up with, and you could already sense where this was going. “There are ways to make mornin’s like this worth wakin’ up for,” he turned his head to rest his chin on your breastbone, heated desire swirling in his dark gaze.

‘Mhm? That so? And how, may I ask, could waking up this early be so worthy?” You loved these little games you played together, the rhythms you danced. Logan pushed himself up on his elbows to barely hover over you, and you didn’t miss the way his arms flexed slightly as he worked his way back up to your neck, tracing his lips up from between your breasts, over your collarbone and to the side of your throat, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Your body slowly smouldered to life, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he littered the side of your neck with little nibbles and sharp bites, smoothing over the small hurts with his tongue. Your breath hitched in your throat as he sucked a light bruise against the scar on your pulse point, his hands braced either side of your head. 

“I could start from here…” he murmured against the lobe of your ear before pulling it with his teeth, revelling in the way he could smell your sweet arousal building between your thighs. He went back to suckling deep purple blossoms into the skin of your throat, leaving the side of your head tingling deliciously from the attention.  “‘N work my way down…” he did as he said, indeed working his way down from the side of your jaw to your collar, grinning against the bone as you shivered a quiet gasp when his hand skirted from aside your head to brace against your waist, his thumb smoothing soft circles against your skin. 

Your eyes fluttered closed, breasts aching for him to finally claim what was his and seal his mouth over your peaked nipples, but he did nothing but tease you, tongue darting out to lap between where you needed him most. Well, not most, but you knew when he was in this kind of a mood, it was going to take a while before he was where you needed him more than anywhere else, the apex of your thighs already slick and ready for him. 

Logan looked up at you through dark lashes, committing to memory the way your brows pinched when he neared the peak of your breast, only to furrow again when he moved away to work up the other as if he couldn’t decide which he wanted to take first. He knew it was cruel for him to tease you this way, and he knew you could give it just as much as you got, maybe even more, but at this moment, he truly didn’t care. If you decided later to bring him to the edge only to leave him high and dry, he knew it would be worth seeing you like this. Submissive. Impatient. Yearning. Desperate. 

Your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, lips sandwiched between teeth when his tongue circled the tip of your breast, and you could only arch your back so far before he took pity on you and enveloped your sensitive pebble with his warm, wet mouth. You keened, head falling back onto the pillows as your fingers in his hair encouraged his movements, a disobedient whine flying from your gated lips as he sucked gently, his tongue flicking over and over the perked bud. 

A low groan rumbled from his throat, heightening the soft sparks of pleasure he delivered with his mouth, already feeling his need for you throbbing against your thigh, his hips grinding against your soft skin. But he wanted to take his time. After all, you’d woken up much earlier than normal, and things like that should be rewarded. Drawing in a deep, slightly shaky breath, he nipped across your plush chest, scraping his teeth over where he knew you were most sensitive before settling his mouth over your neglected nipple, drawing another breathy whine from your lips. 

“Logan…” you sighed, squeezing your thighs together and unknowingly providing more for his pulsing cock to grind against. His eyes fluttered closed as muted ecstasy fogged his mind from doing nothing but grazing his tip along your inner thigh, his teeth clamping down lightly on your hard bud. You gasped airly, and Logan wished he could capture the sound in a bottle.

Descending further, he took his time kissing and lavishing the various scars across your stomach, making sure to run his tongue along each one at least once, even as your body quivered with wanton anticipation and your hips rose needily into his chest. 

“All the way down to here.” You’d completely forgotten he was explaining what he could do to make the morning worth it until his gravelly, lust-laced voice rose from between your thighs, his hands now braced against your hips to hold you still. Your scent wrapped around his addled brain, pulling him closer to your slicked cunt and your teeth sank into your lower lip just as he moved to swerve your heat altogether, his lips attaching to the needle-point scar to the left of your inner thigh.

Frustration kindled in your chest despite the tickling pleasure of his mouth, the rough surface of his bears scratching deliciously against your velvet skin, sending a mixture of feelings through your scalding blood. Your fingers twirled through the strands of his hair, pulling harshly in an attempt to shift him to where you truly needed him most, but it resulted in nothing but a huffed groan and a sharp nip as if he was reminding you to behave. You tensed your jaw hard enough to hear your teeth grinding together, the ache between your thighs becoming almost unbearable, that needy pulsing of your walls begging for attention. 

It was taking all of Logan’s self-control to ignore the call of your sweet arousal, to push down his instincts to devour you and continue on with his constant, lengthy teasing. Until you tugged on his hair again, a shiver running down his spine as he grinned wickedly against your thigh, his leaky cock jumping with equal need. 

You cried out the moment his nose nudged your clit as he practically nuzzled into your throbbing pussy, his tongue finally darting out to lap up the honeydew nectar dripping from your heat. And the moment he tasted you, he couldn’t hold back. Lewd groans and wet smacks filled the air as he devoured your aching cunt, lashes of pleasure struck your body with each desperate suck of your clit. 

“Fuck…! Logan… Logan!” You gasped his name through harsh pants and airy moans, your voice unrestrained as he dragged you closer and closer to that edge after working you up for so long. Your spine arched, hips undulating against his waiting tongue, and he loosened his grip on your waist to allow you to ride his face, relishing the desperation of your movements. His lips latched onto your throbbing pearl, freeing one hand and teasing his fingers around your entrance, inhaling sharply as your nails scratched up the sides of his neck. 

Achingly slowly, he gifted you the ecstasy of his fingers, your velvet walls instantly clamping down on the sudden, welcome instruction. Fuck he could feel you pulsing around him as his digits curled inside you, and he burned to feel you around his cock. With steady, careful ministrations, he heard your voice crack slightly, a telltale sign of you getting teasingly close to achieving your high. 

Your head snapped back as the pads of his fingers grazed that little bundle of pure lightning deep within your cunt, your entire body shaking as you teetered on the precipice of euphoria. “Th-there! Don’t stop… Fuck yes, Logan ‘m so– so close!” You trembled, subconsciously proud of yourself for even being able to form a coherent sentence with your mind so blissfully blank with pleasure. 

He growled in affirmation, pulsing his fingers against the rapturous key to your release until he felt your thighs clamp around his head and breathing became almost impossible. A broken wail stuttered from your lips as he finally pushed you over the edge, fractured gasps cried into the ceiling as warmth flooded your senses, feeling nothing but the unbearable ecstasy of his tongue and fingers. 

Your hips ground senselessly against his mouth, wave after delectable wave of release coursing through your nerves, your sharp nails sinking into the sinewy muscles of his shoulders as you clung to him for dear life, every fibre of your being set alight by his wicked ministrations. And in true Logan fashion, he didn’t stop, and it wasn’t long before sharp spikes of sensitivity shocked your system that had you frantically pushing him away, giving yourself a moment to recover. 

You hissed a curse as you floated back into your trembling body, dark chuckles fanning up your body as his slick mouth crawled back up to your neck and you were barely able to shift your boneless arms up with him.

“Worth it yet?” He asked, voice husky from groaning into your cunt, and you managed a crooked grin, chest still heaving with the intensity of your orgasm. You didn’t quite know how to articulate that, even if he hadn’t just sent you to nirvana and back, just waking up by his side and seeing his face makes early mornings worth it. 

“Mmm, not quite, but it will be.” You hummed, your fingers leaving the tangled mess of his hair to ghost down his chest, dancing across the prominent vein at his naval before dipping lower to gently grip his cock, feeling it hot and heavy in your hand. Logan’s features slackened, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly dragged your palm up and down his shaft, circling his sensitive tip and using the copious pre-spend as a natural lubricant. His jaw fell open with heavy breaths, abs flexing as he thrust into your grip and you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense with restraint. 

Wrapping your still slightly shaky thighs around his waist, you gave his member a small squeeze before swiping his tip between your soaking folds, clamping your lips together to silence your oversensitive whimpers when he nudged the hood of your clit. Slowly rolling his hips, Logan breached your heat, loosening a low groan into the side of your neck as you welcomed him eagerly. There were few moments he’d feel more at peace than when he did buried deep inside your cunt, wrapped in the clenching velvety walls at the apex of your thighs. 

And he could feel the way you deliberately tensed around him, gripping him like a vice as he drew back. Clenching his teeth, he could already feel himself wanting to fill you, wanting to claim you as his own here and now, despite having done just that countless times before. His fingers gripped the sheet on either side of your head as he managed to find a steady rhythm, almost teasing himself with the promise of the earth-shattering release he knew he’d find. He always did when it came to you.

“Always feel so good, sweetheart. S–! So fucking good.” He stuttered, a shock of ecstasy catching him off-guard as you sank your nails into his shoulders. The gentle roughness of your scratches always sent his mind reeling with the paradox, and in response he circled his hips slightly, grinding into that spot only he could reach. You’d confessed once that you’d never managed to make yourself cum like that, and it inflated his ego tenfold knowing that only he was able to bring you that kind of brain-numbing pleasure. 

“‘M yours, Logan…” you whispered like a secret, sending a shiver down his spine and a pulse to his cock. His hips stuttered into yours, losing control of himself briefly before he found himself having to still completely, lest he came before you did. You sent him a knowing grin, tensing around him as if to seduce him back into the rhythm he’d previously set. 

“Say that again.” He almost pleaded, and your brows pinched as your efforts proved successful, only this time there was a primal brutality to the way he started to thrust into you, his back arching with the slicing pain of his claws sliding through the skin of his knuckles, providing more pleasure than hurt.

“I’m yours. Belong– Fuck! Belong to you…” Your voice hitched slightly, head pitching back as your second release of the morning bubbled just below the surface. Logan growled into the side of your neck, carefully freeing his hand from the tangle of sheets and mattress filling to wrap around your thigh, lifting it higher to sit at his rips, nicking his own flesh with his claws as he did. An involuntary gasp sailed from his lips, another strike of lightning igniting his blood as he felt you tremble around him, your high so fucking close. 

“Mine.” He snarled, catching your earlobe between his teeth as he shoved his claws back into the padding of the mattress, your nails sinking deeper into his shoulders as you canted your hips onto his pistoning cock, your moans climbing higher in pitch before getting caught in your throat altogether. There was the briefest moment of silence before you tipped over the edge, back into the ocean of pleasure you’d just crawled out of. 

Logan sank his teeth into the space between your neck and shoulder as you shuddered uncontrollably around him, your entire body spasming with utter bliss as you rode him through your second orgasm, your nails dragging from his shoulders to his back, down over the tense muscles running down either side of his arching spine. How he managed to hold out whilst you soared through inconceivable ecstasy was a testament to his self-control, and only when you were coming back down did he continue, now chasing nothing but his own release. 

“Yours… ‘m yours.” You repeated almost like a mantra as your mind blurred for a moment, before returning with a clarity you hadn’t felt since waking up that morning. “All yours, Logan…” you whispered with renewed intentions. Leaning up slightly, you clenched around him once again, dragging a low, desperate moan from the depths of his chest before you murmured something that sent him flying over the edge. “And you are mine.”

Logan’s eyes screwed shut as you sank your teeth deep into the side of his neck, his jaw locking open as he stuttered a roaring gasp of your name, his cock jolting and pulsing as he shot rope after thick rope inside you, a firestorm of pure, unadulterated pleasure coursing through his system. He could feel the warm trail of blood trickling down his shoulder from where you’d bitten into him, the sharp sting only causing him to lose control of himself completely, his hips bucking wildly into your cunt before he stilled inside you, chest heaving, mind hazing, cock throbbing. 

The coppery tang of blood invaded your mouth and you were worried for a moment that you’d gone too far, but the way he sagged onto you, uncaring of his weight, told you otherwise, and you watched the wound stitch back together with the same fascination you felt when seeing it for the first time. 

He was dead. He must be. There was no way he could have come back from that. Everytime you fucked, he swore it just kept getting better, and he reached a new height with each release. Cracking his eyes open, he could see the three deep veins in the mattress left behind by the slashing of his claws, stuffing and fluff scattered across the floor and the bed. He knew he should move. Knew he should probably roll off you and let you breathe, but if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t think he could. It was rare the Wolverine felt little to know strength, and every single time he did it was little after spilling into your welcoming cunt. 

With a soft hum, you thumbed away the little trickle of blood down his neck before your fingers wove through his soft strands of sweat-damp hair, chuckling lightly as he groaned in exhaustion. You knew it wouldn’t last long, and if you continued, he’d be hard again in a matter of minutes, but you couldn’t stop the yearning to soothe his pretty head. 

“Almost tore your throat out… sorry.” Though, from the sounds of it, you didn’t sound sorry at all. If anything, you sounded almost proud of yourself. Logan breathed a sigh into the side of your neck, feeling too heavy to do much other than shift slightly, pulling himself from your heat. 

“‘N they say I’m the animal,” you giggled wickedly at his words, though your expression softened almost instantly as he looked up at you, eyes full of nothing but sheer, pure devotion. “Christ, I love you.” He murmured, before finding the willpower to raise up onto his forearms and roll onto his side, tucking you in tight and taking you with him, his lips sealed to yours in a passionate, languid kiss. 

“I love you too.” You responded, your tone hushed as you basked in the afterglow of the morning. “Definitely worth waking up for.” 

Logan scoffed, but the sound warmed your heart because his little, disobedient smile meant everything to you. He meant everything to you. You sincerely hoped he knew that. With everything that was going on. Kreva, Jade, the file, your past… you hoped he knew that, despite all of that, he was what mattered most to you. 

And something shining in his eyes told you he did.

It was early afternoon by the time you and Logan managed to peel yourselves away from each other for longer than two minutes to hop into the shower, as dismayed as he was for you to wash his scent from your body. He made sure to hold you the entire time, from the moment you stepped in the shower all the way to heading down the stairs and starting breakfast. Or brunch. Or whatever the equivalent of an afternoon fry-up was. 

Logan set his chin atop your head as you shimmied the pan of bacon, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as he swayed the both of you to silent music, pulling a small chuckle from your lips. 

“If I burn myself I’m blaming you.” You murmured, leaning further back into his embrace as you carefully set down the pan.

“I’ll kiss it better, don’t worry.” He responded lowly, doing just that to the various deep purple blossoms across the side of your neck, a delicious reminder of thirty minutes ago when he was pulling you to the edge of insanity. You never reprimanded him for the marks he left behind, never scolded him for the bruises he sucked into your skin because truthfully, it drove you crazy. His animalistic instinct to mark and claim you called to your desperation to be claimed. To belong. And you’d be lying if you said you would refrain from disappearing into the shadows for a good long while after. 

You breathed a contented sigh, wondering just how at peace you were feeling considering your circumstances. You’d been here for around a month at this point, falling into a steady routine. A few days of the week Logan would head out to handle little jobs for extra cash, from fixing up old cars with the local mechanic Todd, to removing trees and branches for the locals in the next little town. And he’d always come home with whatever provisions the two of you needed. Running out of milk? He’d come back with a few long-life cartons. Needed more flour? He’d come through the door with another two bags of all-purpose, or self-rising if you were baking bread that day. 

And you loved it. You truly did. However, there were some days you couldn’t help the cabin fever. You needed to get out. You needed air, a change of scenery, anything. It was a conversation you’d had a few days after you’d arrived, and he insisted you didn’t need to leave for any reason. But you’d failed to mention that maybe you wanted to. 

“We’re running out of eggs…” you tried to keep your tone as nonchalant as you could, glancing over to the tray of a dozen empty little egg cups, the remaining two about to be cracked and fried along with the bacon. 

Logan hummed thoughtfully, his chin dipping into the top of your head as he nodded. “I’ll pick some up tomorrow, Mrs Whitethorn wants some firewood for the colder months so I can grab some on the trip and– what?” He’d sensed something was up the moment you opened your mouth, knowing you better than the back of his own hand at this point. And when you sighed slightly at his resolution, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I just… maybe I could grab some? Ya know, we’ve been here for a month now and nothing’s happened so–”

“No.”

You clenched your teeth together, flicking off the gas to the stove and stepping to the side so you could turn and face him. “Logan, we’re safe here. Nobody knows where we are. Not even the Professor. You said it yourself. What’s going to happen on a quick trip to the shops? Because that’s all it would be. A quick in and out. No faffing, no lingering, just a change of pace.”

“We’ve already had this discussion.” He responded, his voice taking on a hard edge. 

“Yeah, well, I want to have it again.” You mirrored his change in demeanour, folding your arms across your chest defensively. 

“And what coulda possibly changed in the last month? They’re still lookin’ for ya, an’ people talk. Ya think nobody’s gonna whisper that there’s a new girl in town? That’s how things get outta hand. That’s how he’ll find you.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but terrified frustration was starting to make it impossible. He didn’t want to argue about this. He didn’t want to fight about this. This was the safest option and he wasn’t going to budge.

“It’s a tiny fucking town in the middle of nowhere, who’re they gonna tell? Their neighbours? You’re right, we’re fucked if Mrs Whitethorn finds out you’re living with someone,” you spat sarcastically, the lonely days he was away feeding your claustrophobic irritation. “They don’t even know I’m a mutant! I’m fairly certain they don’t know you’re a mutant.” The shadows in the room started to grow and twist, silhouettes exaggerated, disproportionate to the casting furniture. But Logan didn’t back down. He was used to it by now, the way the leash on your mutation would slip whenever you were experiencing heightened emotion. 

“Look, Charles asked me to keep you hidden and safe, so–”

“Oh, that’s why you’re here? Because Charles asked you to be here? Well, excuse me for thinking you did this out of any kind of concern for me. I should have known Charles would just get his fucking guard dog to deal with the situation. Shoulda been here two years ago, maybe you coulda accompanied me when he sent me away! Made sure I didn’t murder anyone else in cold blood.”

“You’re insane.”

“And this shocks you? You say that like you didn’t know this already, Logan. Newsflash, I was always insane! But that’s what you fell in love with! Insane ol’ me, running around, scaring the kids, endangering her team. Yep, that’s me!”

“Why’re you bein’ like this? You’re behaving like a fuckin’ mo–” Logan stopped himself, a flash of hurt whipping your features before your eyes turned hard, jaw clenching. 

“Go on. Say it.” You hissed, daring him to finish his sentence. But he kept his silence, simply returning your venomous glare. “Like a monster, right? That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it? You’ve read the file, Logan, you know just how much of a monster I really fucking am.” 

Logan snarled, tearing his glare from your daggers and snatching his coat from the hook. He couldn’t be here right now. He couldn’t be around you right now. You both needed to cool off, and there was no chance of that happening whilst you were both in the same house. 

“And just where do you think you’re doing?” You spat accusingly, eyes narrowing.

“Out.”

“Must be nice to be able to leave whenever you want. Send me a postcard, will you? I’ll be here because apparently I’m on fucking house arrest!” You shouted as he slammed the door behind him, the only confirmation you had of him actually leaving was the rumble of the truck’s engine and crunching of gravel as he drove off. You screamed in frustration, the shadows around the house whipping and lashing out in similar rage. The shattering of glass tore you from your anger, raising your head from the cradle you’d made with your hands to glance over to the mantlepiece. 

Your heart shattered along with the glass. 

“Shit…” you whispered, rounding the sofa and sinking to your knees on the rug, your fingers trembling as you debated trying to salvage the picture you’d broken in your outburst. It was one you hadn’t taken that long ago, and you only surprised him with it last week. He’d rolled his eyes at your beaming grin, remembering distinctly the moment you’d wrapped the scarf around his neck and snapped a quick picture before he could do so much as protest. And oh did he protest, the moment you took the picture you had to run back inside and hide beneath the bed. Even then he dragged you out. 

You loved that picture.

And now you’d broken it. 

You ignored the sharp sting of pain as you picked up the shattered glass, blood leaking onto the warm rug, crimson fingerprints staining the frame. You exhaled a shaky breath, sniffing back the tears lining your eyes as you fought to fix the pieces back together, almost frantically jamming the sharp edges against one another. 

By the time you gave up with an angry shout, your hands were covered in blood, and there was a stain in the carpet you knew would likely never wash out. You could theoretically just dissolve your hand in shadow and heal up, but you savoured the sting on your fingertips, the welling of blood on your palms. As twisted as it was, it not only reminded you that you were alive, but it kept you grounded, kept you from getting caught up in the tidal wave of grief and rage and guilt. You didn’t mean to say all those things to him, you just wanted him to listen and he wasn’t hearing you. 

You watched as a trail of scarlet dripped from a cut from your fingertip down to the centre of your palm, pooling around the stains, merging with other little brooks of sanguine. Closing your hand, you winced slightly as the slices barked in pain, blood oozing from your clenched fist before you stood from the ground, grabbed your coat, and slammed the door behind you in an extremely similar fashion. 

He didn’t even know where he was going. Didn’t even know where he needed to go. He just knew he needed to get out. Did you really think he was here just because Charles asked him to be here? Did you not understand just how unbelievably dangerous it was for you to venture off on your own? He knew you valued freedom, but did you value freedom over your own life? Over his grief? Did you not understand how completely and utterly broken he would be if he lost you? It was too much of a risk. How couldn’t you understand that?

And how could he be so fucking stupid as to think you’d just let him keep you hidden away? How could he let himself get comfortable with the fact you’d never want to leave the house? How had he almost called you the one thing you were so terrified of being? Christ he was such a fucking idiot sometimes. That flash of hurt played over and over in his head. The way your features shifted from fury to pain so damn quickly, before it was back to fury. He’d cut you. Deeply. Deeper than even his claws could cut you. He should turn around. Try and explain without raising his voice why he had to keep you safe. Why he was begging you not to drive off on your own. But it was so damn difficult when you kept arguing with him constantly and not letting him finish his goddamn sentences. 

He should turn around. 

And it was with a harsh smack of the steering wheel and a savagely muttered curse that he did, flipping the indicator and pulling into a layby, swinging the truck around and tracing the road he’d just taken, only the opposite way, back to the cabin. Back to you. How could he be so damn stubborn? How could you be so damn stubborn? Fuck, he loved everything about you, from your hotheaded rants about mildly irritating things to your little head tilts when you’re reading a particularly good book but Christ alive were you stubborn.

And he loved that about you too. 

And this was what he was focussing on when he pulled back into the drive, the gravel crunching beneath the wheels. The lights were still on, which, under normal circumstances, would mean you were still awake. But something didn’t sit right. The door to the cabin was left slightly ajar, and he could have sworn it clicked shut earlier when he slammed it. Maybe he’d slammed it a little too hard and it had bounced back open? But surely you would have closed it. You were always complaining about it being too cold in the north. He was certain you could have closed it. 

His heart started to beat a little faster, and he begged his mind not to get ahead of itself. He needed to keep steady if he was walking back into the swirling storm of your justified rage. But as he stepped out of the car, not even the calming breeze could soothe his pulse. The cabin was far too quiet. He half expected you to be anger-cooking, something you were known to do once or twice. But nothing. And not the relieving kind of nothing. The incredibly concerning kind of nothing. 

The copper scent of blood hit him like a ton of bricks. The interior reeked of it. Fresh as well. Freshly spilt blood. In his cabin. In his cabin he shared with you. In his cabin he’d left you in. Now panic started to well in his chest, gripping his heart in a clawed fist. Pushing open the door, he called out your name. He couldn’t smell you over the scent of freshly minted coins, but he couldn’t hear you either. Not your breathing, not your heartbeat, not even your angrily pacing footsteps. You weren’t here. 

Fuck. 

You weren’t here.

Logan raced up the stairs, still calling your name. He had to be sure. He had to be certain you weren’t here before he let himself go crazy. Before he let himself completely lose composure. And just as he suspected, nothing had changed since that morning. The bed still wasn’t made, the lamp was still knocked over from your morning tryst, and you still weren’t there. He took a breath, willing himself to think rationally before he completely lost his shit and tore down the whole forest looking for you. Racing back down the stairs, he quickly scanned the living space for any kind of clues, before his eyes fell to the rug. And the shattered glass surrounding your treasured picture frame. 

A crack of guilt splintered his heart as he crossed the room, bending to one knee and gingerly picking the picture from the scattering of sharp shards, removing the paper from the frame altogether. His thumb wiped clean your scarlet fingerprint from your beaming smile, forever captured. He wished he could go back to that moment and ask you to take it again. Take another where he didn’t look so mildly irritated to be in it. But you adored it. Said it captured the two of you perfectly. 

A large part of him couldn’t disagree.

Logan spun around as the door flew open, heavy boots trudging through the doorway. And he knew things were extremely wrong when you didn’t pause to remove them, instead tracking mud and leaves through the kitchen. You hated it when he did that. When he didn’t remove his shoes before entry. He would always receive a sharp look of disapproval and a deep huff before you’d all but push him back to the doormat. It used to be a game, where you’d stand and wait to see how long it would take for him to roll his eyes and cave. It never took long. 

He inhaled deeply, carefully setting the photograph back on the mantlepiece as you wordlessly strode past him. “Look, I–”

“Don’t.” You cut him off instantly, not even bothering to cast a glance his way as you trudged up the stairs, pine needles and soil dusting each step with the force of your stomping. And all he could do was close his eyes against his slight wince when the door to the bathroom slammed shut, the sound of the shower humming from inside accompanying his guilt. After everything you’d been through, he went and called you the one thing you were so afraid of being. 

How fucking insensitive could he be?

It felt empty. The room felt empty. The bed felt empty. Your heart felt empty. This wasn’t right. As much as you wanted it to be right now, and holy shit did you want this to feel right, it simply didn’t. You tossed and turned, having far too much space than you were used to having. You could spread your legs without obstruction, starfish to your heart’s content. Except your heart wasn’t content. Your heart was anything but content. 

With a heavy, defeated sigh, you rolled onto your back, looking at the space beside you, the permanent dip in the mattress that you both knew would never fade now. Your chest felt hollow, a pit of longing opening up in your gut. But you couldn’t give in. You were mad at him. And he was mad at you. You were mad at each other. You wished he would hear you, just listen for one damn sentence before he immediately got lost in a tirade of his own and drowned you out. It was infuriating. It was irritating.

But it was Logan. 

And it was that thought that had you throwing the duvet off your legs with an exaggerated huff, as if gaslighting yourself to be annoyed about the situation. Bare feet touched the cold, wooden floorboards as you crossed the upstairs bedroom and over to the stairs, dragging the woollen blanket with you. It was larger than the one on the sofa, and you knew that one would barely be long enough to cover his legs, let alone his entire body. 

The boards creaked beneath your footsteps as you padded down, ignoring Logan as he immediately sat up from his admittedly uncomfortable-looking position on the sofa. You knew he was awake. Just like he knew you were awake. This wasn’t your first fight, not by a long shot, but it was the first fight you’d had as a couple, and honestly you didn’t much care for it. Neither did he. 

Wordlessly, you crossed the living room, savouring the warm rug beneath your toes, a nice contrast between the cool floorboards. And there was no argument the two of you could ever have that would stop Logan from opening his arms for you, the comically small blanket falling from his body. There was no way he was about to admit it out loud, especially being in the throes of a heated argument, but he missed you. Fuck, he didn’t hold you for one night, less than, and his entire body burned to be near you. To pull you into his chest and murmur just how sorry he was. 

But neither of you said anything as you clambered onto the sofa next to him, lying with your back against his chest, his arm caging you against him as you settled the blanket over the two of you, fluffing up the cushion by his head before laying down. It was precarious, and you knew you could return to the bed if you both wanted to, but there was something too soothing about this to even consider that option. 

“I’m still mad at you.” You muttered as he buried his nose in the back of your head, inhaling the smell of your shampoo. 

“I know,” he responded, voice thick with exhaustion. 

You nodded firmly in affirmation before regret gnawed at your insides. 

“But I still love you.” The soft admission wove its way into his heart, and he couldn’t help the slight smile pulling at his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your head. 

“I know.”

Your eyes glowed with the reflection of the dying embers. No matter the season, it always seemed to be fucking freezing here, and you were eternally grateful for the constantly burning hearth Logan kept up for the both of you. Sparks popped from the charred wood, rising up the chimney and into the night above, and you watched them go, too much on your mind for sleep to find you a reasonable candidate. 

“I don’t want to be a prisoner of my past.” You whispered, trying in vain to stop the harsh sting of tears from falling down your cheeks. You knew he could smell the salt, and you didn’t want to give the wrong impression. You didn’t want him to think you were too vulnerable, or too weak, to leave the damn house.

But you could tell it was futile when his arms wrapped around you tighter, holding you with the solid surety you’d craved since you’d first started fighting, and you both hated and adored the comfort that settled in your chest. He’d still be here. He’d always be here. You knew you were grasping at straws when you said he was only here as a favour for Charles, and everything he’d done for you, was still doing for you, screamed otherwise. Logan wasn’t a liar by nature. When he said he loved you, he meant it. 

Logan screwed his eyes shut, opening his heart and allowing himself to hurt the way you were. He knew this was his doing, but he just didn’t know how to explain it to you. “I don’t know how to keep you safe…” he uttered, feeling your body tense a little with the admission, before you were shifting in his arms, twisting awkwardly until you were facing him, nose to nose, on the tiny sofa barely big enough for him alone. You stayed silent, letting him take his time in finding the right words. You knew it was a lot for him to say that, to admit he didn’t know what he was doing. You wouldn’t press. You wouldn’t push. You were content to wait for him. 

And the depth of his gratitude could never be spoken aloud, for the failure of those very same words he was trying to find. “Kreva found you in the last place he’d ever think to look. He said so himself. I can’t– I can’t run that risk. I can’t let him find you again. Because if I lose you– Firefly, if I lose you–”

“I know,” you did. Truly, you did. Because if you lost him. If Kreva found you, and you lost him, you knew it wasn’t something you’d ever recover from. Pressing your forehead against his, your hand slowly found its way to the side of his jaw, your nails scratching ever so lightly through his beard. “I’m sorry. I– I know you’re not here just because Charles asked you to be. I was angry and upset and honestly? Kinda just looking for something to justify it,” you apologised quietly, and he breathed a soft smile against your chin. “And you were right. I was behaving like–”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he interjected, pulling back from you slightly. “I was an asshole. I have read some of the file, an’ there was nothin’ to even suggest that. There were plenty of monsters I read about, but you weren’t one’ve ‘em, alright?” He implored, his eyes slightly reflective in the low light. You nodded faintly, a hefty weight lifting from your shoulders and chest, your breath looser in your lungs as you drew in an easy breath despite the cramped space.

“Okay…” 

Logan pressed a delicate kiss to the side of your mouth, sighing as you reciprocated, shifting so you could capture his lips wholly. 

“I love you.” You whispered, a secret shared for only the two of you in the bubble of security you’d created for yourselves.

“I know.” He repeated, and your brows furrowed, your lips pulling in a disobedient, reluctant smile. 

“Say it back, asshole.” You couldn’t help but laugh as his mouth split into a grin, a hearty chuckle rumbling from the depths of his chest as you slapped his bicep lightly.

“I love you too, Firefly.” He hummed, tucking you cosily beneath his chin and holding you tight, both for emotional and practical reasons. He really didn’t want you to fall off the sofa and ruin the moment. 

As hilarious as that would be.

Logan let the silence settle for a minute whilst his mind started to wander. Neither of you had really come up with a solution to the issue, and whilst yes, it was nice to be speaking to you again and holding you again, he was worried that this was only temporary until the problem reared it’s ugly head a few weeks down the line. That was when it struck him. Christ he really could be fucking stupid sometimes. This was such an obvious answer and you’d both just had a ridiculously heated argument over it. 

“Come with me. Tomorrow, when I head to Mrs Whitethorn’s. Come with me.”

Your head shot up from the crook of his neck, and even in the darkness, he could see how they danced with disbelieving hope. “You’re serious?”

“I’m serious. I’m no good at talkin’ to these people. I just show up, do the job and leave. Reckon she’d want some friendly company for once.” He shrugged, trying to play off just how much your excitement was rubbing off on him. In truth, he wanted you to meet the people he did odd jobs for. He wanted people to see the woman who’d stolen his heart. His soul. And to be callous about it, he wanted to show you off a little. Especially to Todd. 

“Even if she’s a secret spy for an underground mutant experimentation project?” You provoked lightly, raising a crooked brow.

“I think I’ll take that chance.” He murmured, loosening his grip so you could get comfortable again before he secured you flush against his chest. This was what he’d craved since the beginning. Since setting eyes on you that first time when welcoming you home. He just wanted you safe. Preferably with him. Actually, that was also a requirement. But he never wanted you to feel like a prisoner of your past.

Not now. Not ever. 

[theoneandonlysourcandy]

Henry hotline x reader headcanons (but this time there’s a WHOLE BUNCH)

So I feel like the last Henry headcanons have been too short, I want to feed y’all (and myself) a three course meal, so, I’m just gonna be putting anything about Henry hotline I can think of here and hope for the best!! Enjoy my cringe slop

☎️- Alright, first off, he LOVES giving you any sort of affection, and will constantly hold your hand whenever he’s with you. When sitting next to each other, he’ll put his arm behind you on your chair. Any sort of touch or affection he can get.

☎️- Will tease you sometimes, but never actually be mean to you, he’ll just poke some fun at you, like if your short he’ll say “How’s the weather down there” or something.

☎️- Speaking of being short, if you were, he’d lean on you with his arm, like putting it on your head or shoulder. Unless you don’t want him too, though. Otherwise your permanently his wall to lean on.

☎️- SHOWERS you in gifts, I under exaggerated how much he gives you gifts in my first post. Anywhere he goes, he’s getting you a gift. It’s honestly insane just how much stuff you have from this guy, and most of it is pretty fancy.

☎️- He’s definitely rich as fuck. No doubt. If you want something, your getting it. A necklace? It’s already on your neck. A new phone? Of course, just don’t call him too often with it. Even if you feel bad about spending so much of his money, he’ll just reassure you that he’s got plenty. More than plenty, actually.

☎️- He’d get jealous often, not like super annoyingly often where if you talk to someone other than him he’d be mad, he’ll just get a little jealous often when your talking to Frankie or deputy duck-actually, HUGE emphasis on deputy duck. He hates that bitch, if he sees you talking to him he’s immediately coming up and joining the conversation, while giving deputy duck a VERY obvious glare.

☎️- Cuddles you all the time. He loves having your head on his chest while you two watch some corny movie together, or just having you in his arms. He never wants to let go once he’s got you cuddled up in a bunch of warm blankets together.

☎️- Brags about you 24/7, will not shut the fuck up about you when your not around, he’s practically driving Frankie insane.

☎️- Never ever in a million years will he ever want kids, but, he’ll happily marry you without a second thought! Just. . No kids. His headaches are already terrible enough, he doesn’t need anymore screaming kids around him, he’s got enough of them to deal with at the park. And they CONSTANTLY call him!

☎️- Loves to take you out on fancy dates, if you couldn’t tell already, he absolutely loves spoiling you.

☎️- Someone’s making you uncomfortable? He is absolutely livid. He’s immediately coming over and putting an arm around your waist before they can try anything else, and gives them the most passive aggressive smile you’ve seen from him, and you’ve seen those smiles before from his bad temper.

☎️- Speaking of his temper, sometimes he’ll snap at you thinking your someone working on his show or something, but as soon as he realizes it’s you, he apologizes profusely. He feels so bad about it, he didn’t mean to upset you, he’d never want to.

☎️- He’s both a cat and a dog person, he just can’t really choose. Cats are nice, calm and cuddly, but he also loves the energy from dogs and playing with them. If you want to get a cat or a dog, he’s all for it, he doesn’t care which one you want either. If your happy, he’s happy.

☎️- He can start arguments pretty easily with his constant headache, but each time he feels really bad about it, muttering apologies and finding a really nice gift to make you feel better. He’s usually a really good with words and an absolute flirt, but after an argument, he can’t even say a single sentence correctly.

☎️- Speaking of flirting, he does it constantly. Flirts, loving teases, the whole nine yards. His ultimate goal is to make you blush like a tomato. Of course, if your mad or being serious he won’t, but otherwise, he’s cooking tomatoes.

I was in a online class Making This and the teacher randomly called my name and I panicked and scared my cat, hope you guys I was giggling and kicking my feet making this hes LITERALLY my husband Im literally Henry hotlines number 1 fan (btw, if anyone’s been looking for some Henry hotline bots on character ai, I can give y’all my account name so y’all can check out mine, there’s like NO finding Frankie bots and I wanna change that)

[krisluxxeeempress]

MARS SQUARE SATURN SYNASTRY| ASTRO SYNASTRY SERIES

Aw, man. This synastry aspect is like a parent and child relationship, with the beginning stages being the worst part for anyone who shares this synastry. The mars person depends on the Saturn person and resents it and chooses to rebel. The Saturn person feels responsible for the mars person and becomes frustrated more often than not, with the mars person. It’s interesting because parents love their children (most times) and children (usually) love their parents at the end of the day, despite all the growing pains.

Personally, I am estranged from my family, but my parents still have an emotional hold on me. I love them despite all the pain I feel they’ve caused me and I’m sure they feel the same way. They provided me a safe environment and a private education so despite them not being there emotionally for me, I am grateful and love them. They were very hard on me and expected a lot from me but at the end of it all- I am hyper independent and strong because of them.

So, with the mars square Saturn synastry that is how they both feel about each other which inadvertently causes the square, the challenge in this dynamic. A parent can claim that their kids get on their nerves but in the same sentence they claim they wouldn’t be where they are without their kids and usually their life reflects just that. Example, before kids the parents weren't living right or taking anything serious. After kids, I've witnessed parents buying houses, obtaining degrees and having better jobs. They felt the need to grow up and so they did. It wasn't just talk but action.

Kids can claim to hate their parents but when it really matters, the kids always come through for the parents even in adulthood. You hate that your mom makes you clean your room, but you do it anyway because deep down you love her. Your parents hate how expensive you are, but they still work hard to not only provide for you but also strive to give you what you want. Both parties want to please the other and, in this quest, comes the frustration because if only I didn’t love the Saturn person, I wouldn’t have to do this. If only I did not love the mars person, I wouldn’t have to tolerate that.

We tend to EVENTUALLY love what we initially FOUND difficult at first. Therefore, I can say the mars and Saturn person do begin to love each other deeply after some time. Anytime Saturn is involved, you can expect long term. IT’S WEIRD BUT THE MORE ANYONE INVESTS FINANCIALLY (OR ENERGETICALLY) INTO SOMETHING OR SOMEONE, WE BECOME EMOTIONALLY INVESTED- IT'S ODDLY NEVER THE OTHER WAY AROUND. I SUPPOSE THAT IS WHY SOME SAY LOVE IS AN ACTION AND NOT AN EMOTION.

WITH THAT BEING SAID, THIS COUPLE SHOWS LOVE THROUGH ACTION. THE SATURN PERSON TRAINS THE MARS PERSON HOW TO ACT AND HOW TO PROPERLY EXERT THEIR ENERGY IN A MATURE MANNER AND INITIALLY THIS IS WHERE THE HARDEST CHALLENGES COMES IN. THE MARS PERSON IS LIKE A WILD ANIMAL AND THE SATURN PERSON IS THE TRAINER TRYING TO DOMESTICATE A WILD ANIMAL.) SOME WILD ANIMALS WILL SUBMIT MEANWHILE OTHERS RATHER DIE THAN TO BE DOMESTICATED – THE RESISTANCE IS USUALLY COMING FROM THE MARS PERSON WHICH AGAIN MAKES THIS SYNASTRY VERY DIFFICULT TO DEAL WITH. THE SATURN PERSON FEELS LIKE THEY HAVE TO TEACH OR RETEACH THE MARS PERSON EVERYTHING, USUALLY IT’S RE TEACH BECAUSE DUH! WE ARE GROWN.

SO, IF THE MARS PERSON IS USED TO BEING DISRESPECTFUL, IMMATURE, PLAYING GAMES IN RELATIONSHIPS- THE SATURN PERSON WILL CORRECT THIS BEHAVIOR AND IT WILL FEEL LIKE THE MARS PERSON IS RECEIVING AN ASS WHOOPING. SIMILAR TO A PARENT DISCIPLINING THEIR CHILD.  

The mars person will feel like everything they do is a problem and they’re unable to do anything right according to the Saturn person. The mars person will either decide to give up, rebel and run away from the Saturn person- kind of like a teenager who is mad at their parents for expecting better from them and begins smoking, drinking and getting in trouble with the law. The thing is the Saturn person does have high expectations and mars person will be challenged to rise to the occasion. This synastry aspect does give off ultimatum vibes because in reality, the mars person needs the Saturn person more than the Saturn person needs the mars person- and if the mars person is honest with themselves, they know this.

Going back to my examples- the wild animal needs the trainer, and the reckless kid/ adult needs their parents. Parents provide protection from all things the kid isn't ready for, same goes for a trainer. But in the moment, the animal, the kid, the mars person is unable to appreciate this and views it as an opposition (someone against them) not a (square) challenge to overcome.

the Saturn person has more experience and knowledge because they have been there and done that. The Saturn person “wasn’t born yesterday” so to speak. So, the Saturn person has patience with the mars person to a certain extent. Depending on the sign Saturn is placed in will determine just how short that patience will extend.

The Saturn person wants to invest in the mars person but only if it’s worth it and that is where the strength or weakness of the mars person will be exposed AND CHALLENGED. BUT IT’LL BE UP TO THE MARS PERSON TO RISE TO THE OCCASION. THINGS GET BETTER WITH TIME WITH THIS COUPLE SO LONG AS THE MARS PERSON ADHERES TO WHAT IS BEING TAUGHT, SHOWN AND EXPECTED- LIKE ANYTIHNG IN LIFE. WHEN WE START NEW JOBS AND ARE UNDERGOING TRAINING, THINGS SEEM OVERWHELMING BUT AS YOU STICK IT OUT, THE JOB becomes easier, and you will find that you were capable all along. When we start lifting weights at the gym, it’s painful, foreign, uncomfortable, and hard work but only the strong survive right? When you stick with something hard overtime you see massive growth and that is what this synastry is about especially for the mars person.

As for the Saturn person, they must learn greater patience and understanding and maybe some compassion because they have been the mars person before until they learned for themselves. Not everyone heals and learns at the same speed as yourself and having that expectation isn’t realistic or fair. The Saturn person may be too hard on the mars person and sometimes, this is because the Saturn person is trying to be a better through the mars person.

Back to my parent and child example- there are so many parents who failed in life in some regard and then they have children and try to live vicariously through the kid. A parent always wanted to be a doctor but couldn’t accomplish this, so they expect their kid to live out that dream. When the kid rebels, the parent in turn feels betrayed and let down and gives up on their kid with feelings of disdain and resentment. So, the Saturn person is challenged to reflect upon their intentions when it comes to the mars person.

Nonetheless, the mars and Saturn person are invested in each other because they both have a point to prove.  The mars person has the energy, drive and will to rise to the occasion but the Saturn person may initially make them feel insecure and question themselves. This makes the mars person angry but deep down it’s really insecurity because the mars person wants to make the Saturn person proud of them, they just hate how the Saturn person goes about it. Again, it feels like an ultimatum or conditional love not unconditional in the eyes of the mars person and this makes them resentful and resistance initially.

The mars person ultimately doesn’t feel like they can be themselves or accepted if they do not submit to the Saturn person. Whereas the Saturn person feels like they do understand the mars person which is why they have high standards for them because they can see the potential in the mars person that the mars person cannot comprehend at the moment.

Personally, I am predisposed and maybe biased in the sense that I think life is about challenges and growth. If you are with someone who doesn’t challenge you, I feel it to be pointless. I view this synastry to be very beneficial and reflects a mature love that will last the test of time which we all claim to desire at the end of the day. But when things get hard most people run away from it.

If you truly love someone or want to make it work, you’ll find a way. You'll make a way, giving up was never an option.

[fairlyabookie]

Comforting You

Author's note: What do the boys do when you're feeling down

All you need is a hug from him to help unwind whatever frustrations you had, the scent of vanilla and baked goods embracing you like a comforting hug. His body heat was perfect, enough to nuzzle your head against his chest as you just wanted some peace and quiet. 

Trey seemed to have noticed your fatigue, brushing his lips against your forehead. He asks a harmless question, in which you halfheartedly reply, the energy you had before completely depleted after a long day. That response was enough for him to know - he lets you stay as you are, drawing circles on your back as you nuzzle against him like a cat. 

“Can I ask why?” Trey asks once more, his habit of asking such questions from taking care of his younger siblings. Much to his amusement, you acted like his younger siblings, a little spoiled under his care but adorable nonetheless. He dares not to prod you further, letting silence reign in between as he adjusts your position. 

You let him manhandle you, your arms wrapped around his neck in an embrace. He didn’t have to hear you speak, as the gesture was enough to tell him: don’t leave me. Your partner lets a chuckle bubble from his lips. Without a moment’s hesitation, he retrieves a blanket and drapes it around you, placing a kiss on your forehead. You cling onto your boyfriend tightly, fathoming his physique.

He reminded you of a large teddy bear, although not as soft as a stuffed animal. Helpless as he was as you didn’t reply, Trey thought of some ways to make you talk. “[Reader], do you want a treat? I can make it if you want.” That was enough to rouse you from your stupor. “Sure.” You hum, peeling yourself from his body. “Give me time, okay? I’ll be back with your treat.” He ruffles your head affectionately, messing up your hair. You didn’t mind the gesture, watching his silhouette drift to the kitchen. 

Epel knew a thing or two about comforting his friends - although, it wasn’t much, he hoped it was enough to bring a smile to their lips: a carved apple bearing a semblance of a flower, an animal and a cup of apple juice fresh from his family farm. Though he wished he could do more, his family taught him that the basic need of food and drink was a natural subsistence - something that can make one feel better after a long day. 

He watches you earnestly as he imparts those gifts, your lips curling to a smile. “Thank you, Epel, how sweet of you.” Yet, somehow, your smile didn’t reach your eyes - the boy had to work a little harder to keep your spirits up. He had to ask: “Is there anything I can do for you?” 

Such a question roused you from your stupor, to which you gave him a smile. “I’m fine, Epel. I just need some space.” You answer politely, your voice soft enough for only him to hear. The boy lets a smile befall his lips. “Alright, let me know if you need anything, okay?” Such an offer belied the hubris Epel had with his relatives in his hometown: a helping hand. 

You accept his offer with a whispered thanks, before taking his gifts to your room. As he watched you depart, he wished he could do more than just providing a simple thing. An idea popped in mind. The boy rushes up to you, asking if you’d like to ride with him on the Magical Wheel. Not sure where he was going with the question, you had to ask him his reason. “Perhaps a ride with me would help set a change of pace! C’mon!” He takes your hand, taking you along for a ride. 

You weren’t much of a thrill seeker, but Epel was; he urges you to hold on, kicking up the engine with a burst of magic. Suddenly, you feel the rush of wind against your face, the scenery of the school blurring as you speed along in the vehicle. You can hear Epel’s laughter from his shouting, his voice lost in the chaos. You cling on, feeling the stressors of the day disperse in the wind. 

Sebek noticed something was amiss - not to say it was his intuition, he just knew something was off from you. He didn’t speculate - he thought of asking you up front what ailed you, since your feelings tend to wear on your face. “[Reader], is there something the matter?” Your classmate asks, his intense stare piercing right through you. You manage a gulp, the man facing you intimidating as ever. 

You lack the words, mustering enough courage for a meager response. “I’m fine, Sebek.” That response ticked the boy off, his features contorting to one of frustration. Knowing very well how short-tempered Sebek was, you anticipate another scolding from him - silence follows, merely a sigh from the boy. 

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Sincerity seeps into the boy’s words, his expression gentle, one that belonged to a prince at first sight. Out of the many times you’ve encountered Sebek, this was the first you’ve seen him be so collected and calm - your heart skipped a beat. 

You wished to tell him your troubles, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. Yet, you didn’t want to be alone with your thoughts. If this doesn’t trouble him, you thought to yourself, as your lips begin to ask “Sebek,” You watch for a change in reaction, anything that would betray any sign of annoyance, “Can you walk with me for a little bit?” 

Sebek expected a little more grandiose request, but he’ll entertain it in the meantime. “Much obliged, [Reader]. Where to?” You didn’t expect immediate compliance from Sebek, finding yourself trying to catch up to him as he began a leisurely stroll. You shyly catch up to him, shoulder-to-shoulder, as you didn’t say a destination in mind, just walking aimlessly until your temperament improved. 

[boundbyeclipse]

hiii can you write smut number 5 with current James????

black velvet

genre : smut

word count : 1227

tags : current!james, female!reader, age difference (not specified how much), reader is a tattoo artist, a little rough james, semi-public sex (i think?), that’s about it

from the prompt list : 5. “don’t cover your mouth. i wanna hear you”

a/n : sooo i saw a photo of James getting a tattoo done and i thought hey, that’s a perfect idea for one of my requests! it really stuck to me and i had to write it. i really hope you enjoy this one x

‘Poison’ by Alice Cooper played in the background after you returned from your dinner break at work. You hummed along to the lyrics while lightly bopping your head to the beat. You absolutely loved rock and metal, so the playlist used at work always consisted of bands who did exactly those genres. It always gave you motivation and boosts for some energy, no matter if you were sad, angry or irritated.

While preparing for your next client, the sound of the entrance door opening and closing reached your ears. Technically, it was just a bit too early to show up, but hey, this one’s a regular and you didn’t mind at all.

“Hey there” you greeted him while putting some black gloves on your hands.

“Hey. Mind me showing up before I should?”

You gave him a warm smile, shaking your head left to right.

“Nope. You can come take a seat actually, I’ll go print out the tattoo and get more ink”

“Alright” James smiled back, hanging his jacket on the rack and making his way to the big, comfortable leather chair. He watched you walking around and you didn’t quite pay any attention to him, at least at first. Or, you just didn’t want to.

No matter how many times you’ve done tattoos on this man in the past few years, there has always been some sort of a tension between you both. It wasn’t anything like what you’ve had before with other men. They might have complimented you, made you smile, even blush, but none of them put you in such a vulnerable position with their presence alone. And there have been many times where his eyes would pierce right through you in the middle of getting his skin drawn on, creating the impression of him wanting to do some things to you. The lust was purely emitting from him the whole time. And you cannot forget about those moments when his fingertips would brush against your skin, making you shiver and think of scenarios in your head that were not so innocent. Sure, he was much older than you, but that didn’t stop either of you from craving each other every time.

Not too long after, you were already seated next to James, with his hand extended out as you were drawing lines on his skin.

My, oh my, did those large hands of his drove you insane.

“You got any more people coming after me?” he suddenly asked, his blue eyes hinting at something.

“Nope, you are the last one today. Puts my mind at ease knowing my last client is a regular. No need to overthink”

One side of his mouth curved up into a small smirk.

“Are you sure your mind is at ease? Because I can feel you’re all tensed up”

You swallowed and bit your lower lip hard after he said that. Trying to hide your growing frustration, you giggled.

“Maybe I am, I’ve been here since seven in the morning, you know”

He cocked an eyebrow up, not quite believing what you were saying. James could clearly see how you bit your lip, adjusted in your seat and giggled due to getting thrown back by his comment.

“It’s kind of easy to tell that it’s not because of the work. You don’t need to hide it”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and your body froze for a moment before you looked up at him and asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you secretly think about all the possible ways I could use my hands on you,” you could not believe what he just said, but it was totally true, “it’s written all over your face. Even your body language gives it away with how you shake, squirm in your seat, how you breathe heavier when I’m around. I know you think of me”

“James, don’t-“

“Just finish the tattoo first, then you can explain yourself”

Not even ten minutes later, you had your body pinned against the door of your break room, with no way to escape the tall man who hovered over you. His hands roamed your body while he kissed your neck, sucking on the sensitive spots to make you even weaker. The way he held you by your hip against the door made you so vulnerable and so turned on, that you could not help but moan into the heated kiss.

With one swift move, James opened the door behind you and the both of you walked backwards, still all over each other until the back of your calves hit the lounge couch that was in the room. James helped you with taking your shirt off, leaving you in a black lace bra. You sat down and watched James from below, eyes full of desperation and need, looking right into his own. He removed his shirt and tossed it away, unbuckling his jeans and unzipping them, then hovering above you as he laid you down slowly, but with rough kisses and a tight grip on your waist.

Your hand reached into his jeans and you cupped him through the fabric of his underwear, giving it a couple squeezes as James groaned in response. He was big, thick and hard, and you could feel yourself getting so wet that it started to hurt. You really needed him.

With no clothes left on your bodies, he was now inside you, moving his hips as he watched your face, loving the way your eyes rolled back with each thrust. The way your back arched, your naked bodies touching against each other, it put you in such a trance. Every second of it - you just loved.

With your moans becoming louder, you felt a little embarrassed, and your hand found its way to your mouth to silence yourself. But James wasn’t going to let you hide.

“Don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear you”

Carefully, he took your hand and now had both of your hands pinned above your head. Your moans filled the room as you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to feel every single inch of his length in you. Almost to the point where you could barely take it.

“I can’t- I can’t take it”

“Yes, you can. Just hang on for a little bit more for me, okay?”

You gave him a nod in response, eyes watery and lips parted as you breathed heavily, your high hitting you right then and there. It happened so quickly, that you could not even tell James that you were close.

Another moan slipped out of his mouth as you coated him in your juices, your walls pulsing whilst he was still inside you, able to feel everything.

“Almost there” he told you as he gave you his final thrusts before pulling out and cumming on your stomach. Both of you were panting, with small beads of sweat on your foreheads and hair all messed up. But as soon as you got your breathing back to normal, it was time to clean up and go home. Though, James just wasn’t quite keen on leaving you so soon.

“I’ll give you a ride back home, so don’t worry about taking a bus in this weather” he gave you a warm smile as he put his jacket on and waited for you at the entrance door.

[radiance1]

Something New

Sun Wukong blinked open his eyes to gentle wind and warm sunlight.

‘Ah,’ He thought. Slowly pushing himself up off the ground and into a sitting position. He idly crossed his legs, fingers claiming fistfuls of soft grass as he stared up at the sky. ‘I thought I had done everything right, that time.’

Flower Fruit Mountain.

He was back here, again.

How many times does this make it? The… 100th? 200th? 1000th? He was unsure, keeping track of time lost all meaning, to him, only when the sands of time reversed did he realise it had actually passed. Or if some outside force made him aware of it.

It’s funny, how much he used to care about time. How much he had yet so little he lacked.

He exhaled softly, eyes closing as he sat there. The wind blowing through his fur, the sun’s gentle light bearing down on him, soft blades of grass between his fingertips and the sounds of life in varying shapes and sizes from around his mountain.

He would have to get up, soon. Back to work on making sure everything went right, most likely in a different method to the previous one, a slight difference or a major one he didn’t know quite yet, though.

Wait.

His brows furrowed, lips quirking downward in a soft frown as he looked inside of himself.

Where?

Blood flowed beneath his skin, yes. Beating with his layers of Immortality. His heart still beats, the power vested within himself flowing through it and the rest of his body alongside his magic.

And yet.

This was… Odd. Curious, even.

The thread of time seemed to be… Absent? From where it was vested within him, or… Something along those lines. There was nothing exactly physical about it, nor was it anywhere within his flesh.

If it was, he would have torn it out loops ago.

Still, it was odd how it wasn’t there. Considering it’s persistence in the beginning of each and every loop, twisting and curling around itself before slowly beginning to unravel once more and then, ultimately, disappearing until the ‘end’ of the loop to mark the final moments before he had to do it all over again.

Its absence startles him.

And yet.

Was this it? Was he finally finished? Finally freed from the once endless loops? No longer bound to the thread of time and forced to find ways to kick Destiny off its course?

He felt the corners of his lips quirk upwards, breaking the frown as something burned in his chest. Once swaying embers that persisted just as Sun Wukong’s many immortalities, yet ever so slowly grew dark yet darker. Turned into a roaring, raging inferno that set his entire body ablaze once given the slightest hint of fuel.

Hope.

It was a while since he had felt it in such measure, such force , since a while after the loops had dragged on and on.

“Heh,” A snicker escaped him first as he started to shiver from the excitement that began to course through his veins. Then, a small chuckle. “Hehe.” His hands uncurled and curled around the grass between his fingers, legs kicking out from their crossed position as he began to laugh. “Haha!” He fell onto his back, heart pounding away within his chest as he felt his face split from how wide the smile on his face was.

Then, he cackled.

It was loud, it was unrestrained, it most certainly didn’t sound sane in any measure of the word. But did he care? No. He had the right to something like this, after so long.

He let go of the grass and flapped his hands, kicked his feet, wagged his tail, rolled around alongside his loud, unrestrained laughter. Just, anything to get rid of the excess of energy that flowed through his body and set his heart pounding and his head feeling light.

Though that may be just because he was unable to breathe properly from laughter.

Eh, he was immortal enough to keep going.

So he did.

Time was a construct that held no sway over him, now. For he was finally, finally free from its clutches. He could do whatever he wanted now! With no fear of everything eventually resetting! He could do so, so much more now!

Or nothing at all!

He had thought, even dreamt, about this moment. Of everything he do when he was finally free! But he could just, do nothing at all! Just stay on Flower Fruit Mountain and eat peaches! Or, or! Or draw, make games! Explore the rest of the world and nab any artefact or treasure or just anything in general that drew his fancy or was too dangerous to just have not laying around in his vault!

There was so much for him to choose from, and the best thing was? He didn’t know what to do at all!

Oh this was! This was great!

Eventually, he was left sprawled out on the ground, a delightful burn in his lungs as he gave it the air it desperately lacked moments prior. His vision was blurry and his face was wet both from shed and unshed tears with even more on the way.

It felt… Good. He, felt good. So… Free.

And tired, too. Not physically, but perhaps everything had finally caught up to him.

He felt his eyelids slip shut,

Maybe… Sleeping for a while wouldn’t hurt, right? 

He was free, after all…

----

A wave of power that washed over him broke him from his slumber, and barely a thought crossed his mind before he was pushing himself up off the ground, blinking away the crust from his eyes as his vision turned golden.

That wave of power did move than wash over him, it pulsed through the entirety of Flower Fruit Mountain. Sun Wukong flung his head all about, his mind shrugging off the fatigue in exchange for nothing but panic and agitation.

His hand moved towards his ear, before he paused.

Oh, right.

He didn’t have the staff in this timeline.

He instead plucked off one of his hairs, turning it into a staff that he clenched and unclenched his fingers around. Before ultimately letting go off, its shape changing back into a hair that blew off and away into the wind.

It just didn’t feel the same.

Regardless, he jumped up into the air, a familiar golden cloud manifesting under him that his feet touched down on. He rose into the air, hoping to use the vantage point to see just where the wave of power came from-

Oh.

-And his vision was instantly drawn towards a specific part of Flower Fruit Mountain, his enhanced vision instantly able to pinpoint exactly the why and how.

This was… Unexpected.

He shouldn’t-

This wasn’t how-

What?

His cloud zoomed across the mountain while his brain struggled to process what he was seeing. Before long, disappearing under him as he touched down to the ground, feet taking his absent mind over to the small boulder that had previously held a small stone-

“Ba?” The soft, fragile voice called out.

-now replaced with a child.

“Heya, bud.” Sun Wukong said softly, reaching out and picking the newborn off of the stone. An uneasy smile playing at his lips as an even uneasier chuckle escaped him. “You’re uh, I didn’t expect to be seeing you, here.” He said.

“Baba?” The child reached out, patting him on the cheek and looking him in the eyes. Before reaching up to his… eyes?

Oh, right.

Gold flickered out of his vision, and whatever plausible deniability he once had disappeared along with it. 

“No,” He chuckled, shifting around on his feet as his tail thumped against the ground behind him. Rather that than showing just how agitated he actually was. “Not your baba, kiddo.” He said, even as his mind travelled a mile a minute to try and wrap around and understand what, exactly, was going on.

He wasn’t supposed to be here, not this far back at least.

The kid’s- no MK’s face scrunched up in front of him.

Sun Wukong blinked, tilting his head in confusion.

Confusion melted away into bewilderment as MK sneezed, the generated wide pressure enough to blast away the blades of grass and dirt from his fur as well as turn it into a mess. Even pushing Wukong’s head back a bit!

He blinked.

MK sniffled.

He looked behind him, the only area safe from destruction being the ground immediately behind him. Everything else having been either upturned or blown away. He then turned back towards MK.

“Right,” He began slowly. “I forgot you could do that.” He hummed, jumping up a bit as he leaned back and fell onto his cloud. He shifted MK around to hold him in the crook of one of his arms and against his chest, his other hand hovering over the infant in his arm.

He flexed his fingers, drawing upon his magic into a familiar shape guided by his will, a magic circle forming beneath his fingertips. 

He paused.

He didn’t know why, exactly. Logically, he knew what he should have done. Sealed the kid’s magic, fly over to the nearby city then drop him right outside of Pigsy’s door and wipe his hands clean of the situation and just watch from afar.

So why, exactly, was he hesitating?

It was the right choice, the correct choice in all honesty.

He didn’t need MK on his mountain, MK wouldn’t be MK if he grew up on Flower Fruit Mountain either. Life as a mortal, no matter how powerless he became- no, because of how powerless he became despite his origin, would shape and mould him, alongside Pigsy’s guidance, into the MK that Sun Wukong knew and cared for.

The MK that would go on to become his successor.

So why-

“Ababa!” Mk reached out for the magic circle, stars in his eyes as giggles spilled from his lips. 

He felt two things curl in his chest. One that made him feel warm, lessened the unease of his smile and softened his eyes as he cooed at the infant.

And the other.

Ah, so that’s why.

He was curious.

Curious indeed.

This… Situation, offered him a chance for something new. An opportunity to change the course of destiny in its entirety.

And yet.

It wouldn’t be the right choice.

Everything that had made MK, well, MK had happened without his interference. In which he only watched from afar as MK grew from an infant into an adult that was eccentric yet loveable. All the way until he eventually found and picked up his staff and sent everything into motion.

If he kept MK, instead of giving him up, that would offer up new opportunities. So many different things for him to try, to do, all of which would shape MK into an individual that would either be so far from the one in his memory, a carbon copy, or a middle ground.

It would also render knowledge that Sun Wukong held useless or close to it.

So, what to do?

Give him up, and play by Destiny’s script.

Or.

Keep him, and try something new?

[animalsalvationassociation]

I’ll always protect you . . .

[ DO NOT REPOST, ALL ART & CONCEPTS WERE MADE BY ME ]

Digital Illustration Time: 14hrs 54min

Y.N. & Fae (Ref)

lore lore LoRe LORE LORE LORE LO—!!!

Lol, hi! 👋 So really quick I just wanted to say, this post took so much love, time, & energy. You guys have no idea the amount of work I have been putting in for Y.N. & Fae’s backstory, it’s crazy.

Now I’m not saying that to make anyone uncomfortable, to feel bad, or anything like that. Genuinely I had so much fun with this it’s not even funny. But with that I’ve also put so much of myself into these pictures (including the sketches, we don’t talk about Fae’s face in the last one it was a mistake and I hate it but we’re moving on)

ANYWAYS, what I’m trying to say is . . . This is my love letter. To everyone who’s been supporting me through the journey of this blog. I didn’t realize it until looking it up, but we officially hit our first year mark on November 5th and I couldn’t have done it without all of you.

Thank you my darlings, you have all brought me so much joy, and don’t worry we’re not even close to done! This is only the beginning! So please stay tuned these next couple weeks, I’m trying to have a bunch of posts lined up for the blog and if all goes well it’s gonna be great! (Although please give me some grace as it is the holiday season)

Have a wonderful day and I’ll see you in the next post!

( I love giving my characters panic attacks :3 )

-

Also guys, be mature please. I’ll probably show a good amount of PDA (because I’m touch starved) between Fae and Y.N., we're not gonna make it weird okay?

1. They're besties 2. They're going to have an extremely close sibling-like bond and I don't want to mess with that — Y.N. is literally representing you the audience, and Fae is my art/octosona. (Aka she me) 3. . . . Let’s be honest here I’m probably gonna make up an Oc to ship myself with anyways it’s what I do.

Much love, gn 💙

[ This is a Octonauts AU, in no way is this canon to the OG storyline. ]

[empyrealbiscuit]

Hi! It’s empyrealbiscuit, the world’s baggiest username. Eyyy, it’s been a bit, but at least I have Blackbonnet stuff for y’all. I felt entirely too pooped out to attempt coloring in my lineart, so here’s some nice black lines. I might be getting back to posting art at a normal schedule fairly soon, but that’s not a guarantee, so here it is while it lasts!