#and if they do it'll have nothing impactful in it

[eldritch-spouse]

https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/780205955545776128/kalymirs-reaction-to-me-the-old-icon-of-wraths?source=share

Kalymir thoroughly fucking and rubbing the Queen's clit up to the highest point of the fortress to so everyone can hear it.

[Swoon-worthy for the average wrathful demon. Fem reader.]

TW: Exhibitionism; Squirting; Fear play; Passing description of past gore; Kalymir's caps lock

You never could have guessed this is what he'd pull.

The Ring is going through bizarre times, truly. But if there's one thing you've always prided yourself over, through thick and thin, it's your ability to adapt quickly. To survive. When your previous husband got effectively dethroned by the new King of Wrath, you discovered that your life was not in peril, but actually secured.

The newcomer desired you as his own.

What luck, you merely have to learn to live with another unrequited husband.

Kalymir is quite different than the previous monarch, namely in his energetic nature and resilience. You're not at all surprised he took the throne so swiftly, when faced with an aging, much too overconfident Icon. And although King Kalymir can be unpredictable at times, you thought you were getting the general gist of his modus operandi.

For example, when Kaly laughs during intimacy, it's usually either because you made a particularly pathetic noise, or he's gotten an idea- Most likely to bring a toy, or a weapon, into the occasion. Something that'll be as pleasurable as it'll be painful.

You could never, in a million years, have guessed that he would sling you over his shoulder and march outside with your naked body.

Not that he's anymore clothed than you are.

No, Kalymir stomps out the fortress interior with nothing but his bare crimson hide and a swollen cock bobbing between his legs, unbothered by the passing stares of desensitized guards and mildly curious staff. Some snicker at the way you scream and angrily attempt to tear some of the spikes off his back.

" Just what do you think you're doing?!? "

" SHUT YOUR TRAP. "

A clap to your ass effectively achieves just that, the sting of your flesh distracting you from the heat in your face.

" HOLD TIGHT OR CRACK YOUR SKULL. "

It's all the warning you get before this beast of a creature launches himself at the rubbled walls of his own fortress and begins scaling it.

The shriek that left you was pure frightened reflex, tiny human nails fruitlessly digging into his back for all the support you can get. Dangling legs attempt to encircle anything while you grip around his crown of horns and the bone spikes coming from his lower shoulder blades. Instinct makes you bite the back of his neck, hoping to stay as anchored as possible.

Judging by the steaming grunt he let out, Kalymir doesn't mind at all.

The sound of dense claws scraping against harsh stone follows every frantic lift and impact of his climb. You dare not open your eyes and gouge the distance he's already put between yourself and the ground. Impossibly strong muscle mass shifts and coils beneath you, he doesn't even break a mild sweat from this.

The air in your lungs freezes along with every limb in your body when Kalymir hastens, climb seemingly endless, making you realize what his goal is.

This complete lunatic wants to fuck you on the very top of his fortress!

" You're fucking insane! " Is all you can spit through the shock and dread coiling around your throat.

" DON'T GIVE ME SHIT. YOU'RE WET ENOUGH I MIGHT SLIP. "

The possibility, no matter how crudely worded, is paralyzing.

He has a point however... Shamefully.

Just as Kalymir innovates Wrath, he innovates in your bed chambers, something the previous ruler hardly cared for. He's effective, overwhelming. To this demonlord, domination isn't merely subduing you for his personal use, it's wrenching all the pleasure out of you he can get, forcibly, pushing you past your limits, until you cry and hurt and collapse. An all-encompassing type of fight you had never experienced.

Compared to the dull and trivial acts of before, is it any wonder Kalymir can easily make you wet?

In less time than you'd ever bet on, the King has scaled up to one of the high points of his own fortress. A somewhat conical shape of hard, clawed rubble- Marks of demons who had previously perched upon it. You dare take a peak into what lies below, and the sight is dizzying in its grandeur.

Various zones of Wrath reveal themselves to you, a miasma of mahogany patterns and endless moving shapes. You never thought of how much blood was spilled on the streets daily until you got to see it from above, like now. The arenas stand out, decorated in engravings of glorified slayers and tormentors from ages ago. Your vision blurs for a slight second, moving figures becoming no more than blurred blobs as you grip harder onto Kalymir, so afraid of falling.

He would tank such a fall, shaking it off. You, on the other hand, would paint the fortress like an ripe tomato.

" D- Don't set me down. "

Your threat stutters past intensely grit teeth, more of a pathetic plea than anything.

" NOT PLANNING ON IT. "

In a series of movement that would make any standard human nauseous but do hardly anything to someone as used to bruthisness as you, Kalymir has flipped you over against his front. The motion does little to jostle his perfect sense of balance. It's as if you weigh less than feathers to this demonlord.

The ensuing position has your back to his front, held tightly by unrelenting arms which your poor heart hammers against.

" HANDS AROUND MY NECK! SUPPORT YOURSELF. "

You don't need to be told twice.

Scrambling, shaking digits dart upwards for any inch of safety. Nails claws against a hard chin and defined cheekbones in their panicked efforts, before finally latching around the corded muscles in question. You think some might have chipped in the process, but he doesn't complain, holding your lower body up by the meat of your thighs.

It's a strange position to be in.

You are now spread open and exposed to the burning wafts of Wrath's winds, the adrenaline in your system allowing you that much more sensitivity to every stimulus. The slightest changes in the air make your nipples pebble and your cunt twitch against nothing.

Your mind empties for a fraction of a blissful second where all that exists is mild confusion, your heartbeat and Kalymir's steady breaths inflating his chest.

Then, abruptly, you imagine what might happen if your hands' strength falters, slipping to an ungodly fall, a screaming, wailing death.

" ... I'm gonna fall. " You warn him, gasping.

For as careless as Kalymir often is, you don't think he plans to get rid of you anytime soon, so it would be in his best interests to not let you die in such a horrid way.

Broken nails dig harder into his hide, subpar anchors that only succeed in making the King groan, teased to satisfaction.

" QUIT FUCKING WHINING AND SQUEEZE MY COCK LIKE EARLIER. "

You're now suddenly reminded of the activities interrupted only mere minutes ago. The throbbing length resting beneath you has hardly flagged a bit, in fact, you're willing to bet scaling around his fortress with you over his shoulder has only made Kalymir hornier.

It should have taken longer for him to successfully hook the tip of his cock to your entrance, but truth of the matter is he had stretched you prior, and you're really just as wet as he had taunted you over.

Kalymir leans back against one of the merlons of his fortress and curves forward a certain amount, just enough to allow the penetration to be that much deeper. You get to feel every inch of his barbed shaft force its way inside, letting out a mute, trembling sigh.

There's no doubt you're clenching around him hard. If not from pleasure, then surely how much tension this dangerous position is exerting all over your body. He chuffs like a gratified bull and rocks to grind his cock further into you, a gesture that has your toes curling and eyelids fluttering as it crushes all manner of sensitive spots inside you.

" Hhnrh- "

" HAHAHA, YOU'LL CHOKE MY DICK OFF AT THIS POINT, YOU HUNGRY WHORE. "

You bet he'd like that.

The demonlord finds a rhythm far too fast for someone that's standing in such heights. Entirely unbothered by the surroundings and never faltering, he bends his neck and bounces you on an unrelenting girth, letting gravity and momentum screw you harder onto his wet dick.

Even though you're so high up, neither of you seem to get enough air in your lungs, panting like a pair of animals in a frenzy, perhaps putting some rutting gargoyles to shame with your beastly display.

Every loud cry you release triggers a trickle of laughter from the King, eager to rip out more of them.

" HOW DOES IT FEEL, RUNT? DID HE EVER DO THIS TO YOU? "

Terrifying. You opt not to tell him that.

" N- No. "

" OF COURSE NOT. " He grinds out, snarling. " BECAUSE HE WAS FUCKING WORTHLESS. "

The Icon halts his bruising pace, a pause that finally allows your poor brain to stop rattling around your skull and pay attention, even if your body writhes for more.

" YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GONNA DO NOW? "

Uh oh.

The side glance you give him is both vicious and mortified.

You may be considerably weaker, but you'll make the next few days torturous to him if he decides to truly harm you.

" YOU'LL HOWL FOR ME. " Kalymir grins wolfishly. " LOUD ENOUGH FOR THE WHOLE RING TO HEAR. "

Before you can think too hard on what he's implying, Kalymir has already shifted positions again.

He now squats on the very edge of the crenel, the claws of his feet hooking onto the stone. You're compressed, folded in two almost, one of his arms holding your knees up to your chin while the other creeps between your legs.

You have no idea how he's managing to stay perfectly balanced throughout all this, he doesn't so much as sway in any direction.

The view you get, although partially obscured, is horrifyingly large. Embers of instinctive anxiety flaring as you realize that you might die before you even hit the ground. You know you're squeezing around his dick again because he moans openly.

As if to make it worse, he tilts forward a bit and you shriek instantly.

" Ff-Fuh-Fucking stop! "

" HAHAHAHA- "

There's no semblance of shame or mercy to be found in the King.

" LET'S HEAR IT THEN. "

You didn't know what to expect, until his hand started moving.

The Icon begins, jarring and harsh, finding your clit and using the pads of his fat fingers to roll it incessantly, with a pressure and speed you have never had used on you.

All of this comes together to create stimulus of such intensity that, for a second, all you can do is try to twist and writhe in Kalymir's iron grasp, desperately gulping air while your eyes blur again.

Sure enough, the noises that begin belting out of you are nothing short of bestial, whines and strained moans shifting to clipped yelling and grunts. No one put into your shoes right now would give a flying fuck about keeping noises palatable. All you want to do is hold on and survive your husband's bizarre fetishes, honestly.

Kalymir quietly pays attention to what elicits the loudest reactions, shifting a leg back to spread you further.

The closest thing to a warning that he gets from you is a babble of loose vowels followed by an overstimulated sob.

" THAT'S IT- LOUDER. "

You couldn't hold back the thundering orgasm that rolls through your entire body even if you tried your damndest. It short-circuits your mind for a good moment where you can only feel the ringing in the air caused by your own wanton cry, followed by the force with which you erupt all over Kalymir's cock.

" MAKE IT FUCKING RAIN! " He cackles, barks with laughter, flicking fingers torturing you to prolong the overwhelming climax.

Admittedly, the way you flutter around him has the Icon finally starting to huff and puff, his already hot figure overheating further. It won't be long before Kalymir is filling you, the thought making your tormented clitoris twitch painfully.

You wonder if there's people around, below the fortress, watching. What are they thinking right now? This'll be the talk of the Ring for a while, possibly other Rings.

" HEHAHAHA, LOOK AT THOSE FREAKS- EAT UP YOU FILTHY FUCKS. "

Oh yeah, there's definitely perverts crowding around then. Were they just... Waiting for you to cum so they could... Taste it? Gross. Demons are so disgusting.

" BECAUSE THERE'S MORE COMING RIGHT UP. "

Your eyes bulge.

His hand starts moving again.

" I'm gonna f-fucking kill you! You son of a bitch, you motherfuck- "

And he just laughs.

[ccrisntok]

A DRDT POST????1?1? NO WAY!!!!

Yeah I drew some Whace because I love them with my entire being. My beautiful boys.

Plus lil comic below the cut (how I feel like non-killing game au crushes could be formed... Or at least one of the crushes!)

^^^ Ace after anyone genuinely compliments him (especially a classmate who happens to be a cute guy)

Anyway time to go back into my cave love you guys !

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"Oh!"

Hot, joyous tears sprouted from Susannah's eyes as soon as the question left Philippe's lips, a shaky smile crossing her lips as she put a hand to her mouth: Again, despite knowing exactly what he was about to ask of her, she still couldn't help but be surprised.

"Oh, Philippe..." she murmured, eyes glistening still as she lowered her hand to rest on her pounding heart, wondering if it was as deafening for him to hear as it was for her, hearing it thrumming and drumming in her ears. "Before I met you, I...I never thought about the future. I felt like...I had no future, other than working at Mickey's. That my life would always be so...boring, so empty.

But you...you changed that! You came into my life, and brought so much light and energy back into it, and you've...you've made me the happiest woman in all of New Orleans! And to be your wife...that would make the happiest woman in all the world."

She punctuated this declaration by throwing her arms around his shoulder and embracing him in an excited kiss, pale cheeks red as roses as she concluded, "Y-Yes, I-I'll marry you!"

[tetedurfarm]

having a snack on their shiny new floor ✨

[bidokja]

genius archer's streaming is actually a much more fun read than i was expecting and handles the disability aspect better than i thought it would

[drgnflyteabox]

can't get much better

pairing: ghost / simon riley x fem reader summary: simon is forced to take some time off - he makes the most of it. tags/warnings: very soft, pregnant sex, size difference, softdom!simon- he's a masculine man who doesn't let his lady lift a finger :'), oral (f), one (1) butthole kiss, dacryphilia, daddy kink (sigh), minor minor foot stuff, allusions to injuries and chronic pain, title from an adrianne lenker song w.c: 2.5k

You try very hard not to think about it, but it's hard not to notice how massive he is.

Even shirtless, he somehow looks bigger, muscles flush with heat and exertion under the sun. He toils and breathes hard like an ox, working while you sit on the porch wrapped in his big flannel. Wearing his clothes is like being swaddled in a blanket straight out of the dryer, warm and nostalgic and syrupy with love. It leaves you feeling some type of tender. You're afraid of that feeling sometimes, of how soft it is and how soft it makes you. He could ask anything of you, and you'd yield like he was pressing his thumb into a bruised peach.

You have.

"How are you two?" Simon is so quiet when he wants to be. One would think he'd clomp like a horse with how big he is, but he can float like dust. It used to startle you, but you've been sinking deeper into the memory foam mattress of this life with him and it doesn't anymore.

"Tired, even though I'm not doing anything," you squint at him through the late afternoon sun. It haloes him like an angel.

"You're growing my baby in there, love. That's not nothing," his voice is rough, it always will be. But it's rough now like earth and soil rather than rough with pain and smoke the way he'd sounded when you met him.

You're feeling especially nostalgic, it seems, not like it's hard here. His hand is warm on your belly.

"I guess so," you let him pet you for a moment. Your stomach is swollen but not as big as it'll get, just enough to veto pants. A few months to go still. "How's your back?"

"Argh," Simon says, taking a heavy seat next to you. Dismissive and yet he groans a little when his muscles unclench. Classic.

You slowly reach up and nudge him until he's facing the field opposite to you, face toward the golden afternoon sun and his back to you. He's never asked you to do this, to take care of him, but it's your favourite thing in the world.

His back is always rock-hard no matter how many times you take your knuckles and fingers to it. Just a condition of a hard life lived for him, countless falls and impacts and pushing through injuries. There's a slight slant to his spine now that isn't there in the pictures he's shown you of his youth, but the stiffness is the same. You might've said he was born to be a soldier, had you not known him as a father. He could do both, but - you'd never say this out loud - you were privately grateful for this injury. It wouldn't take him out forever, but the recovery would be long. Long enough to get the homestead started, to get you pregnant.

Simon would never be completely still. This was compromise. Sweet compromise, a life started and time with him you could think back on the next time he shipped out. Making the most of things, he would always say. Making the time count.

"That feels good, love" he groans. Bending forward slowly, relaxing, he's like an aloof stallion finally accepting an apple from your hand. Acquiescing. Showing you his back. It's trust, and you savour it.

"I bet it does," you tease back, just a little. Your fingers are nimble and attuned to his specific aches and pains. "Are you hungry for dinner?"

"I'm hungry for something," he turns, slowly, hands reaching for your thickened waist. Huge, work-roughened hands. War-roughened hands, holding you like a delicate egg. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing that holds you together; all your pieces, everywhere, until he's holding you.

Kissing him is a contact sport. It's his hands moving, cupping your breast and then your pussy through your panties, your own hands wrapping around his broad shoulders like he's the only thing keeping you from drowning. It's open-mouthed, breathing into each other. Impossibly, you get softer, melting like ice on a hot day. 

Before you can lean back on the bench, he stands and lifts you with him. He's still hot from the day, damp with sweat, pushing you into the house while kissing you still.

"Simon-" you start, with no goal in mind. "Please."

"I've got you, love," he murmurs. He always does. Before you know it, you're laid back onto the plush armchair in your living room. Simon knows this is the most comfortable place for your newly-aching body. Affection swells in your chest uncontrollably and comes out through your eyes leaking down your face. Sure, pregnancy makes people emotional - but you're still embarrassed, touched by how considerate he is.

"It's alright, shh," he thumbs the tears at the corner of your eyes. His cock tents his work pants, aroused by them. "Let me take care of you."

The next words he murmurs are into your cunt, right over your panties, tongue laving over the already-wet fabric. "Just need your daddy, don't you?" You clench in tandem with his words, hot all over, skin prickling. He pushes your dress up, bunching it right under your tits.

It's reminiscent of how you spent the first night with him, on the very first day you'd met. Hurried, his big head between your thighs and clothes hanging off you still while he made you fall apart.

He's fucking good at it, too. Pulls your panties to the side and builds up the pressure with which he sucks on your clit, softly and then harsher until you shake. You've been extra horny lately, always wet around him and always so swollen. The scrape of his five-o-clock shadow against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is what tips you over, clamping his head tightly and shouting your orgasm into the heady summer air.

"That all it takes?" Simon grins, chin wet, fingers moving from your hips to your pussy to gently rub along your slit.

"Give me a second, please," it's humbling how quickly you come nowadays. Quick and intense. Fireworks.

You set your foot on his shoulder and he turns towards it, kissing your ankle. Patience is rare with him, something come about only since you confirmed your pregnancy. You miss being overwhelmed by him, miss the nights where he'd guide you over the edge one, two, three times in succession.

He pushes now, just a little, not waiting for your go-ahead but watching you intently. His fingers spread your cunt in a V and he puffs a breath on your sensitive clit. You jump. He grins again, leaning down to lick you, using one hand to hold both your legs under your knees and push them until they meet the soft bump of your belly.

"Hold them there," he says. It's spoken not to you, but to your hole, which he spears his tongue into. You obey as you're helpless to do, holding your legs up and giving him an unimpeded view. It's more than vulnerable, it's not only baring yourself to him completely but giving him the authority to do what he wants. What you need.

Simon eats you out like it's a kiss, slurping you down and letting you leak until the evidence of your weakness to him is all over you. Your legs are wet, and it drips down onto your other hole. He pushes a thumb into your cunt, dipping it in and out.

"Needed me, did'ya? Watched me all day," he's so smug, sometimes. His lips find your bare foot, kissing your sole. "Been wet like this all day?" His other hand finds the meat of your asscheek, spreading you open further, letting the split of you open to him. He leans down, kissing your inner thigh, then your other hole. You whine and clench your pussy around his thumb. 

"So needy," he murmurs, finally finally moving back to your clit. Flicks his tongue over it, something that might've been teasing before but is intense now. Your hands tighten against your legs, head thrown back.

"Oh please- Simon!" You shout again, abs drawing up, stars in your eyes. "Ahh- I'm-"

"I know, honey," his lips suction again around the hard little pebble of your clit, eating like a man starved. 

This is how he likes you. Losing control, coming apart, helplessly vocal against the onslaught of his tongue. No matter how many times you've done this, it never gets old. The release almost always makes you cry, especially intense like this. You're wet all over, face and cunt and legs. He is, too.

"You still with me, love?" He pets your flank like you're a horse.

"Yes," but that's not what he wants.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl," and fuck if that doesn't always fill you with warm fuzzy energy. Wipes your brain, keeps you soft and floaty.

He guides you up and out of the armchair, lifts you into his arms when your legs shake too much. That electric feeling is still coursing through you, tingles in your extremities as they come back to life.

The hand he strokes over you is half affectionate, half proprietary. You've been his since the first time he laid eyes on you.

He reminds you of it as he sets you down gently on the bed, your hair a halo around your head and hands reaching to his face where you pull him down for a kiss. Hands find his shirt, pulling it off you, and then the dress. Fingertips touch the headboard, your arms stretching up, making room for him. Slips your panties down your legs.

It's a lingering, indulgent kiss. Breathing each others air, gasping into his mouth, he puts his elbows by your head and lays as much weight down as he can without cramping your full belly. He's as vocal as you, groaning and rutting like a dog.

"Ready for me, sweet girl?" He leans out of the kiss, sitting back on his heels. You nod, desperate and pulsing between the legs again like you didn't just come twice.

"Daddy's gonna take care of you, don't you worry," he rearranges you like a doll, turning you to your side and getting between your legs. A pillow is tucked under your belly, and he tests your flexibility by holding your leg tight to the length of his body. Your hamstring burns a little with it.

A hand holds your knee, another to your waist. His jeans scrape against your sensitive skin.

You focus on little details. His scar, touching his eyebrow and splitting through his nose, ending down by his jaw. The knuckles on his fingers holding your knee, and how rough the pads of his fingers feel on your waist. This man has never had soft hands in his life. Those same hands capable of so much force, so much violence, the very same that hold you and guide you. A shepherd, you his lamb.

The weeping head of his cock kisses your hole, catching there and traveling up. He taps it against your clit until you're tensing, whining, needy again. Tears down your cheeks.

He steadies you, pets your waist, guides his cock inside and it feels like you can breathe again. His mouth laves hot kisses over your ankle, the sole of your foot again, reverent and controlling all at once. The stretch burns - it always does, and maybe always will. Simon is just so big, thick all around and the mushroom head of him could always bump your cervix if he's not careful.

He's careful now, but only just. You can sense his control fraying, his hips driving forward steadily but his thighs tensing and his grip getting meaner. This is your favourite part. Watching him sweat, breathe hard, taking his pleasure in you.

"Yeah-" he cuts himself off with a long, drawn out groan. Deep, from the bottom of his belly and out. "Already so full of me, aren't ya? Can't get full enough."

You plead with your sounds, words out of your grasp. Your hands clutch at the sheets but it isn't enough. He's solid, he's your anchor, but he's losing himself in your cunt and you're free falling.

"Play with your tits for me," he commands, pumping faster. You're reflexively tightening around him, clit jumping for attention, squeaking each time he lets himself in as deep as possible and touches the mouth of your cervix.

Sunlight slowly fades on the bed, the last golden rays escaping out the window as you're bathed in dusk. 

There's nothing to do but obey, hands finding your swollen breasts and squeezing. They've been sore and huge, like that week before you get your period only it's been a couple months. None of your bras fit anymore.

Simon appreciates it, he loves it. Has you cooking for him with your tits out, nipples peaked and pussy leaking. They bounce, now, stopped only by your hands pinching and twisting. It's insane - no one in the world could replicate the feeling. No artist, no musician. Electricity zips from your breasts down to your clit and shit - you might come just like this, untouched, just full of your man and fondling yourself.

"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking," he pants, leaning over you, bending your leg. "Pinching my dick, sweetheart. Your pussy's so fucking good."

The orgasm begins in your toes, tingling. Your muscles tighten, drawing up, up, towards your cunt, which is making obscene sounds around him.

Simon sees the signs, sees your eyes rolling and your body going taut. He abandons your leg in favour of rubbing your clit with two big fingers quickly, up and down.

"That's it, sweetheart, come all over my cock. Go on," his voice is a snarl, barely distinguishable as human, beastly. "Be good for daddy.”

It's like the crescendo of an orchestra, like a summer afternoon in august, like waking up without a clogged nose after being sick, it's - really fucking good. You're near sobbing, crying out his name, abandoning your tits to reach for him desperately. He meets you halfway, shuddering his own orgasm into you. The press of his hips against yours is better than buttered toast, the delicate press of his chest against yours as he lets your leg go is bliss.

"Si-imon," you slur, hands on his cheeks. He laughs and kisses your forehead.

"What's that, sweet girl?"

"I love you," you cry a little more then, feeling him pull out and lay next to you. You're boneless.

"I love you too," his arm reaches across you, pulling you into him. "Both of you." Hand on your belly again.

"That was insane," you pant. He barks a laugh against your hair. "I'm serious."

"I know you are, love," he kisses your forehead, petting your stomach. You can tell it's meaning, can feel the gratefulness behind the kiss. He's saying thank you, for staying with him, for making him a father. Your hand finds his, squeezing back a wordless reply. Of course, it says.

<3

[lux-astrorum]

update, the zit on my chin is back YET AGAIN so I get to try out the new extra strength microdart patches from zitsticka. in slightly better news, finally figured out what was causing my hip flexor pain from running and it was the FUCKING SHOES so I went out and got new ones which will be hopefully better for me

[zeltqz]

pics and videos — pt 2

✈︎ content warning | 18+ CONTENT: guided masturbation (caleb teaches mc how to jerk him off), fingering, first times, orgasms, kissing, cunnilingus (caleb uses his evol to keep your legs open) cuddling in a bathtub, you both praise each other a lot during this

✈︎ synopsis | after sending caleb pics and asking him to come over, the two of you finish what you both started over the phone and get ready for new beginning in your relationship

✈︎ PART ONE HERE

^ recommend reading before starting this, but you don't have to :)

The second the phone hung up, you and Caleb both came back to your senses and realised what the hell you just agreed to. Caleb was too nervous to even get dressed to come see you at this late hour, and you were regretting everything as you laid on your bed, nearly suffocating your face with your pillow.

This was the most spontaneous thing you both had ever chose to do. Not only was it almost 3 in the morning, and Caleb had a Fleet meeting in a couple of hours, but you also had work later. Granted it was in the afternoon, but you'd be too exhausted regardless.

Your mind can't stop travelling back to the phone call you just had with Caleb. His voice...that was so breathy and pathetic when he spoke to you. His dick that you couldn't get out of your mind even if you tried.

A strange feeling pooled in your stomach as you anxiously counted down the minutes it'll take Caleb to get the one-way train from Skyhaven to Linkon Station. You weren't sure if the feeling was nerves or excitement.

Caleb didn't bother to bring much with him as he headed to the train station. He knows you have a bunch of his stolen hoodies that you still haven't returned, even from high school. They might not fit him now, but clothes are clothes. He also has a bunch of his own stuff lying around in your house, and vice versa, the two of you treating each other's houses like your own.

He parks his car outside the station and heads inside to catch the next train down to Linkon.

It's thirty minutes later, you are brushing your teeth and freshening up when your phone buzzes. Pausing your show, you swipe on Caleb's text message.

caleb: soooooooooo im here in linkon now but there are no taxis :c

you: LMFAOOO walk then

caleb: ...

you: fine. im coming to pick u up. stay put

caleb: yes ma'am :D

You smiled at his text, grateful nothing much has changed between you both since that phone call and spat toothpaste into the sink. You quickly washed your face, shoved on a large pair of Caleb's sweats you always wear to bed, haphazardly put on a jacket, and headed outside to your bike.

Parking outside the station, you spotted Caleb leaning against a pillar attached to the station. His body was facing the inside of the station, his back towards you, and so you took that opportunity to sneak up behind him.

Slowly you approached from behind and pounced on him, wrapped your arms around his waist. He stumbled forward from the impact, nearly dropping his phone. He whipped his head around to turn around and looked down at you.

Your face was nuzzled into his back, inhaling the soft fabric softener lingering on his shirt. "Guess who?"

"Hmmm?" he feigned thinking as he rubbed his chin. "Is it...Tara?"

You froze and he fought back the urge to laugh when you backed away, glaring at him. "That's not funny."

"Oh? But it was when you did the same to me last month with Gideon?" He raised his eyebrows while smirking, watching your face contort into one of disbelief.

"Well—that's different," you said, face flushed as you tried to come up with an excuse. His smirk only grew and it just pissed you off. Eyebrows furrowing, you pushed him. "Whatever go back to Skyhaven. Don't talk to me."

You turned to walk back to your bike only to feel him grab your wrist, tugging you back to him. He pulled you into his chest and lifted your face up to stare at him.

"Are you really upset?" His eyes, filled with concern, didn't match the sly smirk on his face. His hand cupped your cheek and you shook your head, nuzzling into his palm.

"No. I'm not."

"Good." His thumb brushed your cheekbone a few times before he cleared his throat, taking a few steps back from you. "Anyway, your place?"

The implications hit you both real quick and the familiarity you both shared moments ago was now washed away as you came face to face with reality.

"Oh. Yes! My place, right. Follow me." Your body was stiff as you turned and walked towards your bike parked across the road.

Caleb walked beside you, seeming unbothered about the entire situation as he walked with a prep in his step unlike you who felt like your legs were suddenly made of metal. Were you maybe overthinking it? Caleb clearly doesn't seem worried, so why were you stressing so badly over this?

Taking a deep breath, you straddled your bike, pulling out your helmet and place it on your head. Caleb follows suit behind you, straddling your bike.

He clears his throat as you fixed the straps, tapping his knuckles against your helmet.

You turned to look back at him.

"Where's mine?"

You looked at him in confusion through the glass of your helmet, then realised what he meant. "Oh, you'll be fine. Your skull is thick enough to survive any accident." Turning back to the front, you turned the engine on. "Just hold on tight and you'll be fine."

In retaliation, he pinched your waist, making you flinch.

"Ouch?!"

"I'll keep doing that the whole way home. If I gotta die, I'm takin' you with me."

You narrowed your eyes at him, as if testing his bluff. He seriously wasn't going to risk your life like that. Turning back around, you fixed yourself to drive only to feel both his hands pinching at your waist again. Then again.

And again.

“Oh my god, stop! Fine, fine.” You turned off the engine and hopped off the bike.

Caleb watched as you moved to stand next to him on the sidewalk, removing the straps from your helmet and took it off. His eyes remained on you as you stepped closer to put the helmet over his head. His hands moved to your hips, tugging you closer as you fixed the helmet on him.

"You didn't really need to do it," Caleb said, voice muffled from the helmet.

"You wouldn't stop whining if I didn't, so..." Your breath hitches when you feel his fingers around the hem of the sweatpants you were wearing. He was looking up at you and even with the helmet glass you still couldn't escape unscathed under his stare.

Quickly you finished buckling it and mimicked patting his head like always does to you. "Happy now?"

He smiled, nodded and let go of your hips, allowing you to to sit back down on the bike. You leaned forward to fit your hands around the bike handles when you felt Caleb's warm chest press against your back, arms sliding around your body to hug your waist tightly.

Every single contact you both make has you flinching all of a sudden, which is strange considering it was never a problem before. He rested his chin on your shoulder.

"What? You wanted me to hold on tight, right? This tight enough for you?"

You couldn't bring yourself to respond, the thick lump in your throat blocking any possible response. You nodded and quickly focused all your attention on the road ahead.

You'd never wanted to kill Caleb more in your life. His hands wouldn't stop rubbing your waist as you rode back home, nuzzling his chin into your shoulder. Part of you wasn't sure if he was doing this on purpose or not, and you wish you could sneak a look at his face to see his true intentions, if he's wearing that stupid smirk or not.

Caleb was never shy about teasing you. He's done it for years, and you eventually had to just get used to it. It then got to the point where you had to tease him back in order to survive, and it just became a thing now. But this? This was too much. The level of physical touch had never succeeded more than just hugs and cuddles on the couch when watching movies. If you could barely handle this, what makes you think you can handle anything more with him?

Your mind was racing and you had to force yourself to ignore his touch, his presence, his warmth behind you and focus on getting the hell home.

The view of your apartment building appeared in the distance and you never felt more relieved. The second you parked it, you were pushing him off you and stepping off the bike.

"Someone's eager," he joked, watching you shift side to side on the sidewalk.

You said nothing and turned to walk inside. "Hurry up before the gate closes. I'm not letting you inside if it does."

Caleb chuckled and stepped off your bike, quickly catching up behind you. He removed the helmet as he followed you up the elevator to your apartment.

He wasn't stupid. He could tell you were acting differently since you came to pick him up at the station. While driving, you were so quiet, and that wasn't like you normally. Even as he watched you walk down the hallway, your head was down, staring at the ground. You only ever did that when deep in thought.

Doubts started to fill his mind, wondering if the two of you were about to make a huge mistake. Though he shouldn't be worried since technically this was all your idea. You were the one that sent him that photo to begin with. You were the one that asked him to come over.

You reached your door and grabbed your keys from inside your pocket, fumbling with them as your heart pounded so loudly you could hear it in your ears.

Caleb noticed you fiddling with your keys, probably stalling for time. The door unlocked and you stepped inside, kicking your shoes off. You were about to walk further into the apartment when he grabbed your wrist.

Turning to look at him, you were nearly startled by his concerned expression.

"We don't have to do anything if you're feeling doubts," he spoke softly, hoping it was reassuring enough for you. "I mean it. Nothing will change if you decide to back out."

You paused to think. "Then what will we do instead?" There was no way in hell you were even going to consider changing your mind about this. You wanted this so badly. Sure, you had doubts, but that was worries for the future, not the present.

"We can uh..." He looked around your house, eyes landing on the television in the living room. "We can finish that show we were binging at my place last month?"

You smiled deviously. "I already finished that." His face fell and your smile only grew. Slowly, you took a few steps closer towards him, grabbing the helmet he was holding and pried it from his hands. You moved to place it on the kitchen counter then walked back in front of him.

"I'm not changing my mind." Now it was your turn to reassure him. Your hands cupped his face as he looked down at you with such intensity it made you want to melt. "I meant every word I said on that call, Caleb. I want this. So badly."

His breath hitched as he took in your words. Blinking rapidly, he turned to look at the side, away from your intense reassuring gaze, his eyes darting between the kitchen and your balcony. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and you patiently waited for him to process everything.

The two of you knew of that unspoken barrier, forbidding you to go any further. It was a lot to process, but you had come to terms with it a long time ago. Caleb, on the other hand, seemed more hesitant, and you were willing to wait for him.

Except today. You were impatient as hell. Wanting to speed up the process a bit, you ran the flat of your thumb down his throat, brushing his adam's apple. He swallowed thickly and turned to look at you.

"Does this hurt?" you asked, rubbing soft circles on the protruding flesh.

"No."

Nodding, you tilted your head to the side and pulled him down to your level, your foreheads brushing as you looked him in the eyes before moving them down to his lips. "I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

He didn't protest and so you leaned in, pressing your lips against his softly. His eyes slipped shut as you deepened the kiss, moving your hands to his hair. He moaned softly, protecting the back of your head as he pressed you against the hallway wall.

Your lips never leave his as you hoist yourself upwards, his hands quickly darting out to grab you and lift you off the ground. Crossing your legs against his hips, you clutch onto him tightly, as if you were afraid of him slipping away.

Caleb was first to break the kiss, panting heavily as his eyes darted all over your face—your lips, swollen and shiny with saliva—your eyes, dilated and blinking rapidly as you stare at him, foreheads brushing.

He dropped his head down, nuzzling it against your shoulder as he takes a moment to calm himself down. His fingers flexed against your thighs as he held you against him and the wall, his breathing still showing no signs of slowing down.

"Caleb?"

He doesn't respond, only nodding against your shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"You—" He finally looked up at you, brushing his forehead against yours. "You have no idea how long I was waiting for this."

You smiled, cupping his cheeks. "I have a hunch."

He mirrored your smile, bending down to kiss your jawline. "Been waiting forever." He softly moans as he presses more kisses to your skin.

Your breathing shudders as he makes his way to your neck, his tongue darting out to lick a long stripe, sucking his saliva straight off your skin afterwards. He repeats this a few times until a mark starts to form.

Your legs tighten around his hips. "Am I a good kisser? Was it worth it?"

"You're everything—" he says between pecking your neck, "I want—" another kiss to your neck before moving to the opposite side, "and more." He sucked hard and you let out a moan you didn't expect. He found one of your sensitive spots, and doesn't let that information go. He keeps sucking, biting at your skin gently enough to not hurt, but hard enough to leave teeth marks.

Somewhere deep in your mind, you were worried about the marks showing above your Hunters uniform, but you found it hard to care, tilting your head back to let Caleb's mouth explore more of your neck.

"You're so perfect," he rambles in between kisses, spewing as many praises from his desperate lips. "So amazingly beautiful. You sound so good. Make that noise for me again, please?"

He moved back to that previous spot where he ripped that moan from your throat with a simple suck, and sucks harder, much harder, enough to elicit another moan from you.

"Sound so good. Oh my god. Your body is so sensitive."

"Caleb, you're rambling," you mumble, clutching tighter onto him.

"I'm sorry. So sorry. I'll shut up if you want me to?" He forced himself to break away from your neck and look into your eyes "Whatever you want from me, I'll give it to you."

You softly shake your head. "No I like it. Keep talking." He opened his mouth to speak when you quickly shushed him with a hand over his mouth. "Take me to my room first."

He blinked and nodded, lifting you higher to readjust his hold on your body and carried you down the hallway and into your room.

"Cling onto me real quick." He climbed onto your bed, and you clung your arms around his neck, relocking your legs around his hips, clinging to him like a koala as he let go of you with both hands.

He smoothed out your bedsheets with both hands, fluffing your pillows before setting you down gently onto them.

"You're so extra," you mumbled, pulling him back down for another kiss.

"You only deserve the best." He pulled away to strip his shirt off, tossing it to the side.

You moved to sit onto your elbows to get a closer look but Caleb tugs on your ankle, causing you to fall back onto the mattress. He moved your leg to the side, giving him enough room to climb between them, hovering on top of you.

“Just lay there and relax. Let me take care of you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “But I also want—”

He shook his head. “Nuh-uh. Remember why you invited me over?” Your brows furrowed even deeper in confusion. “You wanted my help because you couldn’t finish?”

“Oh. I mean, yeah but that doesn’t mean I can’t also help you.” You ran your hands down his arms, smoothing your palm over his biceps, then to his chest, caressing his pecks, then down, past his abs, to his sweatpants.

You gently tugged at the hem. “This isn’t just about me. Let me make you feel good too.”

He grabbed your hands with one hand, pulled them away from his body and pinned them above your head. “Maybe later. But my focus is just you now. I’ll be okay.”

You were a few seconds away from throwing a tantrum when his lips reattached to your neck. One hand still pinning your hands down, he used the other to lift your shirt up and over your stomach.

He let go of your hands to shift further down the bed, planting kisses along your stomach as he untied the string to your sweats.

He chuckled lowly, seeing how big they were around your hips. “Still wearing my clothes huh?”

“Yeah, and you’re never getting them back.”

“We’ll see.” He pulled them down with your panties and you helped kicking them off your legs.

Now your entire lower half was bare in front of him. He stared at your pussy, breathing steadily. You shifted uncomfortably at his silence.

“Caleb?” You moved to kick at him but he quickly caught your leg.

“Sorry. I just—” he didn’t finish his sentence, lowering his head to your pussy. “Wow.”

“I knew you were a virgin but this is pathetic.”

He laughed and nodded. “Real pathetic of me, huh.” He lifted himself up on top of you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “This virgin though…” his voice dropped low enough to make your stomach churn, instinctively closing your legs shut, “…is gonna make you scream.”

Before you had a chance to respond, his thumb rubbed your clit, fingers weaving through the wetness of your pussy. Your mouth fell open and he shut you up with a kiss, licking into your mouth.

His finger prodded gently at the tight hole, hesitating as if he was scared to push inside.

“It’s okay, do it,” you reassured him.

“Let me know if I hurt you at any point.” With that he slowly pushed inside and you let out a loud moan at the stretch. You underestimated how much larger his finger was compared to yours.

“You okay?” Caleb asked, stopping his movements. “Is it too much?”

“No no it’s okay. Don’t stop, keep going.”

His finger continued to push inside until he was knuckle deep. Your back arched off the bed and Caleb placated you with kisses on your cheek, nose, and lips.

“Taking me so well. I’m so proud of you,” he spoke softly in your ear. He began to thrust his finger back inside you, stretching you out and curling them inside you.

You couldn’t stop moving, your legs unable to stay still as his finger tickled places inside you you’d never reached before.

“Want more?”

You nodded rapidly, biting hard on your lip when his middle finger prodded at your hole, pushing inside. The sensation was uncomfortable at first, but it quickly developed into pleasure as his fingers both moved in tandem inside you. His thumb rubbed circles on your clit as his lips continued to make out with you, swallowing your loud moans to not disrupt your neighbours.

“Do you feel close yet?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so. It feels good though. K—keep going.”

“I have an idea.” He pulled his fingers out and you almost whined upon feeling empty. He moved back between your legs, laying on his stomach and grabbed both of your legs, enclosing them around the side of his head.

“Hope this works,” he said before pressing a kiss to your pussy.

His tongue licked up and down, tasting every inch of you. He wasted no time, had almost no technique, just purely driven by lust, want, and hunger as he devoured you. He swallowed as much of you as he could, kissing and sucking at your clit harshly, then gently, then flicking his tongue against it.

So much was going on your body didn’t have the chance to keep up with it. You felt a warm sensation beginning to form, the feeling unfamiliar to you and quickly closed your legs, body twitching as you tried to calm yourself down.

Caleb pulled back and looked up at you. “Did I hurt you?”

“No…it was just too much—I need a moment—” you couldn’t speak in between your breathy pants. You covered your face with both hands.

He smiled and pried your legs back open. “That means it was working. You want to cum right?”

You didn’t remove your hands from your face, nodding slowly.

“Then you can’t close your legs anymore. Do you want me to keep them open?”

You shakily nodded and then the familiar sound of Caleb using his evol hit and suddenly your legs couldn't close, even if you wanted them to.

"We'll need a safe word, if it gets too far. Whatcha thinkin'?" he asked, resting his chin on your pelvis, patiently staring up at you.

You grinned deviously. "Cilantro."

His smile fell and you started laughing even louder. "Fine. Only because it works. Instant boner killer." He shoved his disdain for the herb to the side and repositioned his face back between your legs and picked up right where he left off.

With your legs forced open like this, it suddenly made the sensations much more...prominent. You could feel tingles running through your veins all over your thighs as his tongue licked into you. His eyes were closed shut, moaning as he gulped down everything you were giving him. He pulled back and watched your pussy glisten, practically sparkling as a mixture of his saliva and your wetness shined underneath your bedroom light.

He slowly reinserted his finger, not stopping until it was fully pressed into you and you nearly screamed when his tongue found your clit again, obnoxiously licking and sucking. The urge to snap your legs shut hit again and your body instinctively fought against gravity to relieve yourself from this overwhelming sensation.

His finger curled inside you, his lips, now wet and shiny with your lick, enclosed around your clit, sucking rhythmically and your body gave up.

You screamed so loud you probably woke a few neighbours up, but you couldn't care about that, not when your body suddenly flared up and was shaking uncontrollably.

Your sudden reaction worried Caleb and he looked up at you with concerned eyes, turning his Evol off and letting your legs snap closed out of instinct.

It took nearly a whole minute of your breathing to return back to normal, for the stars behind your eyes to fade, and for your muscles to stop twitching. Caleb swallowed thickly as he watched you curl onto your side.

"Was that...uh..." He scratched his head. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I just need a minute. Oh my god that was intense."

Caleb shifted to lay down next to you, wiping sweat off your forehead. "I didn't hurt you did I?"

"No, no it wasn't painful. It was just...a lot to take in. Holy shit. That was amazing." You couldn't stop laughing now. "Oh my god, you really made me scream."

He smirked. "Told you I could."

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away. Taking a deep breath, you rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling. Caleb, on the other hand, raked his eyes back down your body. His fingers found themselves back between your legs and he swiped a finger against your pussy.

Immediately your body spazzed and you pushed him away. "No stop, I'm not ready to continue. It's sensitive."

"Alright." He moves his damp fingers to your chin and pulled you in for a slow kiss. You tasted yourself on his tongue and moved closer to him, your chest pressed against his.

"So what now?" he asked as he pulled away.

You paused to think, biting your lip. Your eyes ran down his body, his chest, past his abs, then down to his sweatpants. Pushing him onto his back, you climbed on top of him, straddling him.

"What are you doing?"

"Returning the favour." You untied his drawstrings and pulled his sweats off. Reaching inside his boxers, he moaned when you gripped his cock and pulled it out.

Smiling, you examined it, comparing it to the mental image you saved in your brain from the photo he sent a few hours ago. You exhaled softly and bent down to get a closer look at it, your breath softly hitting his tip. He moaned softly and you looked up at him, smiling.

"Is it sensitive?"

"Kinda." He scratched his head, awkwardly, fighting to look away from the intensity in your eyes.

"Walk me through how to do it." You grabbed his hand and manoeuvred it on top of yours. His big hand engulfed yours and you moved to sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Yeah okay. Uh...start slowly."

Following his instructions, you began to move your hand up and down his cock at a slow pace. His hand helped you set the pace, letting go once he felt like you got the hang of it. He choked back a moan, throwing his head back against the headboard.

"Should I go faster?" you asked, lips brushing his ear. He nodded, closing his eyes and letting out more moans as you planted soft kisses by his jawline.

You sped up your movements and his hips began to twitch upwards, his moans and breathy pants getting louder and more erratic. "You sound so good," you whispered in his ear, kissing and biting his earlobe.

"F—" he held back on cursing, opening his eyes to wrap his hand around yours on his cock, speeding up his movements. His hand squeezed yours, applying pressure and twisting your hand around his cock for more stimulation.

"Are you close?"

"Yeah, I'm so—" you cut him off by moaning softly into his mouth, pulling him in for a deep kiss. His hand weakened his grip around his cock and he cupped your cheek, kissing you at an angle.

Your hand sped up, reaching the tip and applying firm amounts of pressure, feeling it twitch in your hands.

"F—fuccccccccck fuck fuck," he broke the kiss, spewing curses as his hips surged upwards, a loud moan escaping his lips as his cum splattered all over your hands.

You planted kisses along his cheeks, placating him as he took a moment to calm down. He peeked his eyes open to look at you examining his cum on your palm.

"What're you thinking?"

You looked at him, showing the flat of your palm. "What it tastes like."

"Probably gonna taste like shit."

You snorted and stuck your tongue out, ready to lick at it when he caught your palm.

"Please don't. I don't think I can handle seeing you do that right now."

You sighed. "Fine. Help me wash it off." Slipping off the bed, you pulled him off with you.

You could barely stand straight, your legs feeling tingly from your previous orgasm. Caleb noticed and scooped you off the ground, carrying you bridal style into your bathroom. He set you back down and plugged the drain hole, running the bath water to fill the tub.

You walked over to the sink and washed your hands off, drying them with a towel.

"C'mere," he called out to you, stepping inside the tub, holding his hand out.

You grabbed onto his hand, letting him pull you closer and sit on top of him, your back against his chest. He bowed his head to your shoulder, planting soft kisses on your skin as you rested your head back against his.

"This is nice," you murmured softly, grabbing his hand and linking it with yours. "Thank you for doing this with me."

He chuckled softly, lifting his head to look up at you. "You don't even need to ask. I'll do anything for you. You know that."

"I know." You looked down at the water. "Same, by the way."

"Hm?"

You shifted to sit sideways on his lap, wrapping one arm around his shoulder to sit closer. "I'll do anything for you too."

His eyebrows rise as he processes your words and smiles softly. "I'm glad." He pulled you in for kiss, the two of you no longer hesitant with your movements. He holds you tightly, like he was scared the water on your body would slip you away, and you cling onto him just as tightly.

"I'm tired," you murmured, pulling away to rest your head against his shoulder again.

"You want to dry up or sleep here?"

Your lips pursed as you thought. "Here. You're warm, and the waters nice too." He fixed his arms around you, clutching onto your tightly as your eyes slipped shut, slowly drifting to sleep in his arms.

soooooo they didn't fuck YET THO dont be mad pls HAHAH

taglist:

@rxelarailuj @ladyackermanisdead @rin-dont-wear-clothes  @seagreen22 @hisscenery @silviex @sxnnxngg @lostgirlinthewoodss @darklitost @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @cordidy @heeknow @agustdxjiminx @mcdepressed290 @uroborosvirus

[adieutristana]

Hii

Can you make Arcane women X Reader who became blind or deaf in an accident trying to protect them?

I love your writing and sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language

of course! thank you for the request, and your kind words <3

disclaimer that i am neither blind nor deaf but chose deaf because i know it better (family members). i tried my best but the last thing i want to do is be disrespectful, please let me know if you have any feedback.

summary; headcanons of arcane women with fem! reader who went deaf protecting them.

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn.

warnings/tags; mentions of war/combat, injury, medical talk (mel), hurt/comfort, fluff

men dni.

jinx;

���.* your first time being caught in crossfire was nothing short of terrifying. jinx's ego is inflated beyond belief, even going as far as to say she just can't seem to die. but it doesn't make you any less fearful for her safety, or more importantly, her life.

✧.* she's got another enforcer on her back, chasing her through the lanes as she repeatedly tries to fire her gun to fend them off. it's not seeming to work, though. she's panting, her legs threatening to give out underneath her, but she can't stop moving. not now.

✧.* you happen to be walking by after running an errand, and seeing jinx zip past you is concerning, to say the least. you decide to shift gears to follow after her, clutching a bag of produce to your chest as you run. but god, jinx is fast.

✧.* you finally manage to catch up to jinx, long, blue braids trailing behind her as a sort of unintentional tracker.

✧.* "jinx- jinx, what's going on?"

✧.* "damn enforcer... won't leave me alone... it'll be fine, i've got this taken care of." she says through gritted teeth, weaving in and out of different alleyways with expert speed.

✧.* the enforcer is approaching behind the two of you, closer and closer. you forcefully take jinx's elbow and shove her behind you, fully blocking her body. and then, the impact.

✧.* you're not even sure what happened- just the next thing you know, there's an enforcer with several holes in their body, and jinx is knelt in front of you. trying to speak to you, but it's like the world's gone silent.

✧.* "what? i don't understand... what's going on," you mutter, half to yourself, and half to jinx. but you quickly realize that you can't hear yourself speaking, and you can't hear her voice, despite the fact that she looks distraught over you. you're bleeding, the shock of it all stopping most of the pain, yet it just doesn't feel real.

✧.* jinx quickly grabs your shoulders and guides you back to her hideout. it's obvious that you're shaken up and in a haze, the last thing your girlfriend would want is you trying to find your way there by yourself in this state.

✧.* she sits you on a tattered couch, getting her (your) first aid kit out to hastily patch you up. you're looking at her hands working quickly on your wounds, but don't notice the fact that she's trying to ask if you're okay, if you're hurting, if you can forgive her for not being able to stop you from getting hurt. she looks up at you, dark lips pressed into a thin line. her brows are furrowed, searching your expression.

✧.* "i... can't hear anything." you say, although again, you can't hear the sound of your own voice.

✧.* jinx's eyebrows raise this time, but she quickly finishes wrapping your injuries without another word.

✧.* jinx is used to communicating non-verbally since taking in isha, but she wants to be sure of how you'd prefer to do it. first she'll make sure you don't have any lasting injuries, apologize profusely to you for everything despite going unheard. then, she'll start writing things down for you to tell you.

✧.* before long, you and jinx are making your own system of signs. you'd had to take up sign language classes, but jinx wanted to be able to communicate with you more intimately. whether you wanted to speak to her or no longer speak at all, she wants you to have that option.

✧.* 100% blasts her music even louder when you're around. she'd read something about deaf people being able to enjoy music via vibrations of the floor, so she keeps that in mind. most of the time she just plays 'get jinxed,' but the thought is there.

✧.* jinx ultimately just wants to help you get back on your feet and adjust after the accident. she thanks you profusely for protecting her like that, apologizing in the same breaths. naturally, some things in your lives will have to change, but she just wants you to be able to get back to living your life.

vi;

✧.* being with vi means being okay with her coming home with various bruises, cuts, scrapes, even sprains and broken bones from time to time. she can't always explain every injury, memory fuzzy from the series of events the day held. but regardless, she'll let you wrap her up, massage her, take care of her. it's nice to be doted on for a change.

✧.* vi's one and only strict rule is that you are not allowed to get involved in any of the fighting she does. even if it's something as seemingly harmless as standing before the council, you can never truly know what'll happen. you stay home, or at work, anywhere but where vi is getting into a fight. the last thing she wants is to see you hurt the way she gets hurt.

✧.* but this time, you decided not to listen. go behind your girlfriend's back. she's got a particularly dangerous job in the lanes, something about negotiation...? but it's the person she's negotiating with that worries you. so you decide to trail behind vi, staying a few feet behind her so that she doesn't notice you. it's harmless just this once, right? it's not like you're actually fighting, you're just making sure she's okay.

✧.* at first, things seem to be going well. a famous dealer of shimmer, someone she's decided to try and take on in an effort to slow the supply in zaun. you can't make out anything they're saying, but no punches are being thrown. that's always a good thing.

✧.* until they are.

✧.* vi has her gauntlets, striking and dodging with expert speed. you've seen vi before in pit fights that she allowed you to attend, but it always surprises you just how strong the girl is. she's like the human equivalent of a tank.

✧.* you inch closer, until you're peeking out from behind a corner at vi and the man. she seems to be holding her own so far, but you can't help the overwhelming dread enveloping you.

✧.* a punch is thrown by the man that makes your heart drop, and you immediately rush to jump in front of vi, guarding her with your body.

✧.* "babe, what are you doing-" she gasps, before you're hit several times, over and over. her eyes blown wide, vi leaves your side for just a moment to take the man down. she understands now that it's pointless, someone like this can't be reasoned with. she's not sure why she even tried, especially seeing you hurt like this.

✧.* vi kneels down beside you, wrapping both arms around you before quickly helping you up. she takes one of your arms around her shoulder, supporting your weight as she brings you home. she doesn't try to pry, try to talk to you, her mind focused on just getting you to safety.

✧.* the second she gets you through the door, vi sits you down on your bed, grabbing a kit to patch you up. still silent, still focused, her eyes unmoving. she seems strangely stoic, but you chalk it up to her just being absorbed in what she's doing.

✧.* finally, she looks up at you, and asks, "do you feel alright, baby?"

✧.* you furrow your brows, trying to make out what she's asking you, but you simply can't. everything is silent, and you don't know why, and you wish so badly to hear her voice. your lips are parted, but no words come out.

✧.* "baby?"

✧.* "i... everything is quiet." you mutter. vi’s eyes go wide, but she immediately catches onto what you’re saying- and scrambles for any way that she can talk to you. writing at first, but she listens intently as you speak and tell her exactly what you need. her first priority is helping you heal from your external injuries, her second is to help you adjust.

✧.* vi wasn’t really given a formal education, but she will seek out a local class or group so that she can learn sign language for you. the last thing she wants is to not be able to properly communicate with you. given, she doesn’t know much about deafness or hearing loss, but she’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re able to get back on your feet.

✧.* generally, though, she tries not to mention the accident too much. she knows it’s a sore spot for you, and she also doesn’t want to reduce you to the fact that you lost your hearing. you’re still the same girl that she fell in love with.

✧.* however, vi is eternally grateful for the way you protected her that day. she doesn’t know what could’ve happened to her if you didn’t.

mel;

✧.* it happened during the attack on the council.

✧.* you were overseeing the meeting regarding the independence of zaun, a peace treaty of sorts. your girlfriend frequently invited you to sit in on meetings, saying that it was important for you to be aware of what’s going on in the city. part of you thinks she just wants an excuse to spend more time with you, though.

✧.* one second you're watching spotlights flicker as council members make their decisions, the next second you hear glass shattering and screams. you're throwing yourself over mel's form to soften the blow to her. and then- nothing.

✧.* you wake up in a stiff bed, your back feeling as if it's on fire, various tubes and wires sticking out of you. you look around, vision clouded, taking in your surroundings. a bland-looking room with white curtains, the air dry, a vase of flowers on a table, and a chair beside your bed. with mel sitting in it.

✧.* "darling, you're awake," she breathes out, reaching for your hand. she wants more than anything to bring you close, to hold you to her and never let go, but she can't do that right now. not while you're in this condition.

✧.* you squeeze her hand, but you don't register what she's said. you can't hear anything, in fact, and it's... strange.

✧.* you just look at mel, your expression still. she's searching for something, anything.

✧.* "...please, darling, say something."

✧.* "i can't hear you, mel." you state.

✧.* it doesn't take long for mel to catch onto what's happened, likely due to how many tragedies she's seen in her life. she's seen people lose their vision, movement in their bodies, limbs, and their hearing.

✧.* mel squeezes your hand back, a pained look in her eyes, but she's just grateful that this is the worst thing that came of the explosion. her first priority is getting all of your external wounds healed, getting you back to a state where she can finally take you home and hold you the way she aches to.

✧.* in the meantime, mel hires one of the best sign tutors in piltover (she can't be bothered to take a group class) to teach both you and her. the last thing she wants is for you two to not be able to communicate, even if you insist that you can (sometimes) read her lips.

✧.* the second the doctor says you're in good enough health to go home, mel is gathering your things and rushing you home. she's fussing over you, making sure you're okay to walk after being in bed for so long, peppering your face with gentle kisses and no doubt leaving some of her lip gloss behind.

✧.* mel does still want you to sit in on council meetings, despite everything. internally, she feels horrible for your sacrifice and selflessness. but she doesn't bring it up- she doesn't want for you to feel guilty or bring up any bad memories. she does hire an interpreter to sit in as well, so that you can still follow along.

✧.* mel also is careful to let you know that she's in the room before touching you. one of her favorite things used to be wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, nestling her face into the crook of your neck and pressing gentle kisses to sensitive skin. but she realizes that may startle you now, so she'll make sure that you can see her before doing anything.

✧.* your girlfriend overall is just very caring, very doting, as always. she's always been an attentive and devoted lover, wanting to make sure that you're comfortable and most importantly happy.

sevika;

✧.* it was during the rally in zaun, near vander's statue. all was well, you were stood next to your girlfriend as she spoke to a crowd of various groups- jinxers, traders, silco's former allies... your hand on the small of her back to reassure her as she spoke.

✧.* until enforcers raided the rally, full tactical gear and brute force. the crowd immediately disperses, some being thrown to the ground, others shoved against fences and handcuffed- and the second a spear was thrown at sevika, you knew you had to do something.

✧.* sevika was always insistent that you allow her to do the hard work. she's used to defending others, throwing herself in the face of danger and taking the worst of everything. she did it for silco, she did it for jinx, hell, she does it for you.

✧.* before she could protest or push you out of the way, you were throwing yourself in front of sevika, taking all of the blows directed at her. the instant she realized what you were doing, she was gripping your shoulders, trying to shove you away from her, saying "i've got this, move," and asking what the hell you think you're doing. but you won't budge.

✧.* you just keep taking it, hit after hit, wincing and screaming out in pain, but you can't bear to see sevika hurt. not anymore than she already has been.

✧.* the next moment you remember is waking up in your girlfriend's lap, her cradling your head, brows knitted together in painful concern. it hurts her to see you like this. the second you begin to blink your eyes open, she's holding you close to her chest.

✧.* she pulls back slightly to look at you, just taking in your features. god, sevika is just so grateful that you're alive, that you aren't hurt too badly. you're bruised, you were beaten, you have a few cuts and gashes, but it seems like she's gotten those cleaned up while you were unconscious.

✧.* "dove? are you okay? please, talk to me."

✧.* you wince slightly, your lips parted. sevika is trying to say... something, but you're not able to understand any of it.

✧.* "i don't- i don't understand..." you breathe out, and then you realize that you can't hear your own voice either.

✧.* "what don't you understand?" she asks, but you still can't quite make out what she's asking you. what you can see is that her expression is growing more and more frantic.

✧.* "i can't hear you, sev. i can't... hear anything." you say, hoping to god she understands what you're getting at.

✧.* her eyes widen, but sevika's expression quickly softens. she knows more than most people do what it's like to lose something in battle, having lost an arm protecting silco from one of powder's bombs nearly a decade ago. she sighs, pressing her lips into a thin line, and nods. she doesn't say anything further, but helps you onto your feet so that she can make sure you're fully there after being out for so long.

✧.* first thing she does the next morning is seek out some kind of resources for sign language. she's not the type of woman to take formal classes normally, so she'll stop by the only (run down) public library in zaun and begin to teach herself. it does take some time, but she gets there, and eventually she's at your level (although you went to an actual class).

✧.* similar to mel, she'll let you know that she's in the room before touching you in any way. one of sevika's favorite things to do is brush the small of your back from behind, give you lingering touches in the morning after she's woken up and you're already cooking breakfast. but she knows you'd probably jump out of your skin now that you can't hear her behind you, so she'll do whatever she can to avoid that.

✧.* as i've said many times, i do imagine that sevika is a pretty soft and gentle lover the majority of the time. this transcends into this, but above all, she wants you to just adjust. life goes on, you learn how to live with what you've lost and work around it. she knows that very well from experience.

caitlyn;

✧.* you were caught in crossfire of one of the many shootouts between noxian forces and piltover's soldiers. you had never been a violent or confrontational person, preferring to watch from the sidelines and let your girlfriend take care of the dirty work. that didn't mean that you didn't have opinions, but you opted to stay behind the scenes.

✧.* lately, though, caitlyn has been coming home with worse and worse injuries. at first it was a few cuts, a few gashes, but then it's stab wounds, bullet holes in her arms and sides. it's a miracle how she hasn't been vitally wounded, but you don't want to wait until that actually does happen.

✧.* so one day, you insist on letting you come with her. caitlyn tries to protest, tries to persuade you to just stay home, or go out to local shops, or take yourself out to eat, anything but putting yourself in the face of violence with her. but you're relentless, you won't have any of it- so finally, she gives in.

✧.* "stay at a distance, okay? the last thing that i want is for you to get beaten up like i do."

✧.* you try to listen, you really do. but with ambessa, noxian forces, soldiers coming at caitlyn and topside's soldiers from all directions, it's hard to not want to do something. the battle is getting more heated, caitlyn moves with frightening speed and accuracy. but it's not enough, not this time.

✧.* your eyes don't know where to look, don't know what to focus on. you can hardly keep up with everything, especially from where you're standing, but you finally decide to step in. you can't bear to see caitlyn get hurt anymore, and you can't even begin to comprehend the idea of losing her because of this.

✧.* it all goes by in a flash. you in front of caitlyn, the woman screaming your name, being shoved to the ground, sharp pains, then nothing.

✧.* you wake up in caitlyn's bed, surrounded by bouquets she got you and with her sitting on the edge of the bed. the second that she registers you're regaining consciousness, she can only smile down at you with tears pricking at her eyes.

✧.* "oh, thank gods you're awake," she breathes out, immediately reaching to take your hand and intertwine your fingers with hers, calloused thumb running across the back of your hand.

✧.* what's strange is that you can feel caitlyn's hand against yours, you can see her lips moving, but you can't hear anything, and it's driving you crazy. clearly she's trying to say something to you, but it's inaudible. everything is.

✧.* she furrows her brows, waiting for your response. normally, you don't take this long, but you're just... staring at her, your expression unmoving.

✧.* "dear?" she asks, her face growing visibly worried.

✧.* "i don't know what you're trying to say, cait, i- i'm sorry." you whisper. "i can't hear a thing."

✧.* caitlyn is a smart girl. she takes a moment to process what you've said, but it does click in her mind pretty quickly. you've lost your hearing. a million thoughts swirl through her head, about learning how to effectively communicate with you, how to adjust around this, but she can't get ahead of herself. she just sighs, gently brushing her lips against your forehead and letting you continue to rest.

✧.* however, similar to mel, caitlyn hires a sign teacher to teach both of you. cait is very immersed, practicing with you whenever possible. it's not only a good bonding experience, but it helps her be able to accommodate you better.

✧.* absolutely doesn't let you go on any more missions with her, though. not that you'd ask- but if you did, the answer would be an immediate no. neither of you really speak about what you did that day.

✧.* caitlyn is grateful that you jumped in to defend her, knowing she likely would've suffered worse in her own wounded state. but it's a sore spot for both of you.

✧.* caitlyn is also very well-researched, so she does go to some archives to read about hearing loss and how to build something around it. that's all she wants for you, really, to be able to make something out of this. she doesn't want to coddle you, doesn't want to give you sympathy that she knows you don't need. she's grateful that you came out the other end with your life intact.

[stilljuststardust]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"I can't affirm it if it isn't true"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

1. You control what's true.

The 3D is not the indicator of what is and isn't true because it's reliant on you to determine it's state. You decide whats true because when you change it does.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

2. Uncomfortable ≠ incapable

You don't LIKE thinking something that isn't true in the 3D. You are physically capable of doing so.

Reasons you don't like doing it ≠ being prevented from doing it.

Yes, it is uncomfortable for you, but you have to be ok with discomfort. Yes believing in yourself feels really weird. It is unfamiliar and therefore feels unsafe. You believe that worrying is protecting you (it isn't) and so you're afraid that if you stop you'll get blindsided.

Growth is uncomfortable. You can stay where you are or you can grow.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

3. You can think whatever you want

The thought police are not going to break down your door for thinking something that "isn't true". Oh no someone might catch you believing in yourself. There is nothing stopping you from thinking anything at any given time.

Living in the end is internal, you can still take care of your day to day responsibilities. This is even more true if you are manifesting something less "serious".

Nothing bad is going to happen if you're "wrong" about how you look, nothing bad is going to happen if you think as if you have a dog and you don't.

I understand how in more serious manifestations that sounds like it doesn't apply but it still does. Thinking as if you have money doesn't have to entail spending as if you have money. You can still do what you need to do, you can still take precautions. You're just not repeating your circumstances to yourself over and over again in your head.

The physical world cannot impact your manifestation and therefore it is ok if you have to make important decisions and take action in the 3D.

You can still think as if, because thought is purely internal.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

4. Would you say it to a fairy

Weirdest possible way to explain this but:

If a fairy cast a spell over you so that thinking as if something was true = it being true, would you be saying that's too hard? Would you seriously be like "Fuck you magical fairy, you can't possibly expect me to think something that's not true" ?

Because that's what half of you are doing now. "How do I think as if when the 3D says otherwise" You say the words in your head. You repeat words in your head.

Your thoughts are not chained to the physical world and there is no material consequence to thinking contrary to the 3D in the privacy of your own mind.

Changing your beliefs is uncomfortable, accepting that you are literally all powerful is uncomfortable, growth is uncomfortable. You have to choose between the pain of everything staying the same and the pain of growth.

Would you go to a fairy and be like "your spell doesn't work. No I didn't think about it as if I had it, why would I do that if I don't have it??" That's how you sound.

If you Google law of assumption it'll tell you that it's literally just thinking as if you have already manifested it. If you don't want to do that then why ask me how to apply the law of assumption? The law is the law, if you ask me about the law I will tell you to think as if you already have it.

I teach law of assumption, don't get mad when my advice is to assume.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[woso-dreamzzz]

Javelin

Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: You and Ona are each other's homes

The first time you met Ona, she kicked you in the face with a football.

In revenge, you threw it straight back at her and she accidentally lost a tooth from the impact.

You'd been best friends ever since then and your parents could barely keep the pair of you separated.

And as with all things like that, a relationship was naturally the next step.

Fumbles in the back rooms of the family home, making out in your room during family reunions, a kiss after Ona scores in an important match.

And all of those soft, teenage fumbles transformed into something much more beautiful.

You'd followed her to Manchester when she left Spain.

It had taken a lot, uprooting your whole life and moving to a different country whose language you hadn't paid much attention to in school.

Ona helped though.

Ona always helped.

That had always been the case.

Ona helped you and you helped her.

Your training never really went as long as hers. You weren't away from home as often as Ona was. Throwing a javelin wasn't quite as physically draining as football was so you were able to cook dinner and clean up and go to almost all of her matches to support her.

"That smells good."

Arms close around your waist gently and a head rests between your shoulder blades.

"Taste," You say, bringing a spoon up to Ona's lips straight from the pot," Good? Too salty? Not salty enough?"

"Perfect," Ona says," Perfect like always. You spoil me."

"You deserve to be spoiled."

Ona giggles a little, a soft kiss being pressed against your neck as she moves away. "I'll grab the plates."

You make a home in Manchester together before Barcelona come knocking and you're more than willing to return to Spain again.

You get another coaching team. You train in the heat.

You and Ona discuss a dog but nothing has come of it just yet. You bask in each other's company. You return to family reunions and seeing Ona's family on the weekend right until the summer.

The run up to the Olympics is brutal.

You're both tired and drained but it's a dream to represent Spain on a stage like that, to show people around the world just what you can do.

People watch events that they don't usually watch and if you can even convert one person into a javelin fan then it'll be an Olympics well spent.

You have your goals for this Olympics and Ona has hers.

And you hate seeing that her goals will be left unfinished.

"Hey..." You say gently as she approaches you at the barrier," I'm sorry."

You can see her putting on a brave face. You know it's fake.

You lean over and gently draw her closer.

Spain hadn't made it to the final. They'd lost the bronze medal.

Ona had lost the bronze medal.

Your own gold medal for javelin feels like a weight in your bag, heavy and you wish you could throw it in the river so Ona wouldn't be able to see it.

But you know that she knows you won it.

She'd sent a very long rambling text before setting up an accompanying phone call where she declared her love for you and told you how proud she was and how she couldn't wait to see your medal.

Now though, you don't want her to see it.

You don't want her to see it because you know she'll be reminded of what she's just lost and you can't do that to her.

You won't do that to her.

You refuse to do that to her.

So you hold Ona against you now as she rests her head in your shoulder and you play with the soft baby hairs that rest on the back of her neck.

"We've got a break now," You whisper to her, voice quiet and soft and everything she needs to hear right now," We'll go somewhere hot. With a beach. We'll relax and have some fun before the season starts again. Relax and reset."

"I wanted to win you a medal," Ona chokes out against your skin," I know you've already got one but-But I wanted to get you another one."

"I don't need another one," You assure her," I've got you. That's enough for me."

[canisalbus]

Hi! A little life update.

At the end of October I wrote that I was deep in a depression spiral and due to unexpected occurrences I had been left with basically no income for several months. I had emptied my savings at that point and was feeling extremely stressed, sick and hopeless.

I just want to thank everyone who reached out and offered support or even looked up my ko-fi info and sent me a donation. It was an unfathomably kind thing to do and helped me tremendously. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I was at the end of my tether, I had 1,70€ in my bank account at that moment. I was sleeping four hours per night on average because my insomnia was so out of control, and had more or less stopped eating, after surviving on nothing but porridge, bread, apples and buttered pasta for close to a month. Things were kind of dire. No one has ever showed me that kind of unprompted generosity before, irl or online. Thinking that people I've never even met were willing to support me like that both warms my heart and makes me feel kind of guilty and undeserving. I'm not used to being treated like that. I hope I didn't make you feel pressured to get involved. It did genuinely help me put myself back together though. The next day I went and bought some essential groceries and getting to eat properly was a massive boost in terms of energy and mood. I'm doing a little better now. I finally managed to get the financial situation corrected, but it'll take months before my finances recover and I'll be able to go shopping without feeling paranoid about counting every cent and hating myself if I buy a small treat. I mentioned that my seven years old, well-served laptop is on it's last legs, so the remaining funds are going towards putting together a new PC, hopefully soon. I don't really have any product or extra content to offer you as a thank you for the ko-fi donations I received, but I hope it's at least nice to think that they're directly enabling me to continue making more art in the future.

I'm still struggling with intense anxiety every day, and it has caused me to develope some kind of impostor syndrome that is impacting my online presence negatively at the moment. I look at the things I try to draw and the asks I get, and feel like nothing I create, say or write is good enough or worth people's time and attention. I'm having hard time opening up like I used to, and I miss the interactions I used to have here, they were an immense source of inspiration and motivation to me. But I'm trying to work on that, and hoping that posting stuff will start to feel more natural again eventually. This got a little long, but thanks for reading! I hope life treats you well.

[ang3lcakess]

The week ahead (..◜ᴗ◝..)

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Pile One:

The self: 6 of cups

You'll find yourself seeking familiarity for comfort, going inwards and holding onto some fond aspect of a past self or time, and looking more fondly on an old version of you that you were disappointed or ashamed of. You're coming to terms with something about yourself after some introspection, and allowing yourself to see that moment of you in time in a more neutral light rather than a negative one.

Those around you: 5 of cups, page of pentacles

You'll be making steps in healing from a bitter connection that left you disillusioned with social relationships, whether it be relationships, friendships, or familial connections. You'll be more open to the idea of opening up again and investing in not in the harmful relationships of your past, but in new/existing relationships that are good for you.

Work/school - 2 of swords, 8 of pentacles

You may find yourself stuck in the middle of a situation, whether it be a small problem or a larger decision making point that could impact the trajectory of your career/schooling. One of these decisions might be "harder", requiring you to devote more effort and time into it. Follow the path that aligns with what you truly want, even if it isn't the easiest one to take.

"Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same" - All at Once, The Fray

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Pile Two:

The self: 3 of wands

When it comes to your personal development, you should look out for opportunities that can help you grow. Take the time to help someone with a quick little thing or go/try something new. It doesn't have to be major, it just has to push you a little bit.

Those around you: King of cups

Things will be holding steady when it comes to the connections in your life, with nothing major rocking the boat. You'll be able to approach situations with a more level headed mind.

Work/school: Knight of pentacles

You are locked in and have a steady flow going on. Focus on the things you do best to feel encouraged and keep that momentum going and it'll be easy to maintain that positive flow!

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Pile Three:

The self: 10 of cups

You'll find yourself content with or in love with an aspect of yourself, or even all of yourself after a period of feeling just okay, or not so good with yourself. Take some time to invest in your personal care, specifically the smaller things like keeping your nails maintained or hair trimmed, etc...

Those around you: 10 of swords, queen of swords

You'll find yourself looking at a fading/severed connection through a more objective lens- no rose colored glasses anymore! You'll be able to see certain things for what they were, acknowledging what this person had done, and recognizing what you should do in future connections as you move on.

Work/school: 9 of pentacles

Kudos to you! You've been working on something, putting good effort into it. Your work will be acknowledged, and you'll be rewarded with the fruits of your labor. Acknowledge the effort you put into this thing and give yourself a pat on the back!

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

[kryannoy]

sylus's favorite things to do . . .

genre: nsfw, smut

character: sylus

warnings: impact play involved, teasing, cockwarming

HAND HOLDING

This is a must. Sexually or non-sexually, he doesn't mind holding your hand. But when you're struggling to take his huge cock, squirming here and there, pulling the sheets or anything, he'll have his bigger hands over yours and prying to open it so he can intertwine your cute fingers. He also loves it when his hands press yours down onto the mattress while he's thrusting himself deep inside you, fast and suddenly coming to an abrupt slow, then fast again without warning you.

COCKWARMING

When he's working or stressing out with his two adult kids, he'll pull you onto his lap and make you grind on him. His grip on your hips pushing you back and forth, forming an obvious tent under his pants. It wasn't hard to feel and spot it on your clothed pussy up to your inner thigh. Once he's hard, he'll pull down both of your pants and let his dick engulf inside your warm, gummy walls with a relief sigh. He has a habit of bucking his hips up yours and claims it as "adjusting his seat" but boy, you know it wasn't from that smirk on his face. When it comes to sex, after sex specifically, he'll keep himself sheathed inside you while hugging you from behind until he accidentally falls asleep.

TEASING

Somehow, it always turns him on when he's the one receiving it. Your flirtatious acts, your previews of what's to come are what makes his breathing go labor. As if his chest isn't big enough, it keeps going up and down when he's breathing rapidly from your continuous teases. His favourite is when you touch him from his stomach, up to his chest and smacking some on his face, making him flinch from the impact. And oh, how he just wants to beg you like a dog when you push his thighs wider with your heels. Sometimes he even has dirty fantasies of you stepping on his cock with your expensive heels he bought for you.

IMPACT PLAY

Whether it'll be receiving or giving, he doesn't mind. Sometimes he likes to receive, other times he likes to do it to you. With your consent, of course—because he has big hands and long fingers for nothing, it'll hurt you. But most times he wouldn't want to hurt you so he'll receive it instead. He'll let you play around with him and submit the control to you just so you can get a taste of superiority. He likes to let you have hope because he finds it cute of you, a kitten who thinks they're in charge.

FOREPLAY

He loves to take his time with you. Getting you in the mood and making sure you feel good is important to him. He doesn't care if his dick is strained, somehow he takes pleasure in that. He loves to see your face contort into different expressions and your voice making the cutest sounds. He doesn't do quickies so a lot of times he's late for work or meetings because he will not half-ass his time with you.

VOYEURISM

The feeling of getting caught is the best feeling he could ever imagine. Although, most of the time he doesn't really care if he gets caught with his dick stuffed into your cunny or your mouth. The closer the people around, the faster he goes just to make you burst your bubble and moan loudly by accident so he can blame you instead. Yes, he would put his hand over your mouth if he notices the fear in your eyes. His main goal is to make you cum when people are close to where you guys are.

[evieelyzabethh]

If it’s okay to request, may I request something in modern au (viktor x reader, established relationship) where jayce is hosting a costume party and reader dresses in something that makes her look super pretty (maybe I even suggest, her dressed as cowboy barbie, cause my bi self is obsessed with that look) and viktor gets handy with her. If you’re comfortable, can you make it nsfw or at lesser suggestive?

Definitely projecting as someone whose personal fav holiday is Halloween, but I imagine reader to be super stoked about it. Like the set up gets a big makeover that she forces Vik to help her with, there's a bunch of spiders and skulls and spooky decor all over the place, the ambient music transitions to creepy organs or the instrumental soundtrack of one of those old Hollywood horror movies. You definitely spare no expense when it comes to costumes, sometimes even going as far as to make it yourself.

Jayce isn't the biggest Halloween guy; he just likes the decor and the movies. While you went as cowboy Barbie, he definitely went as a plain cowboy, walking around shirtless with a huge cowboy hat atop his head and a lasso attached to the leather belt he's wearing. The denim jeans he wears are flared, just barely showing the brown boots that he bought to match with the suspenders the rest on his bare chest. The party is rather intimate, nothing more than a bunch of mutual friends, a bunch of pizza, and at least a gallon of Jungle Juice.

Now, you knew that Viktor wasn't going to be Ken. Even though his costume wouldn't be a matching hot pink, he thinks the fringe is silly and totally not his vibe. To be fair, he hasn't done a matching costume with you since you went as a Playboy Bunny, and even then, he only showed up in a suit and tie. He didn't even name the costume; he just went along with what everyone else assumed. That year, he was a man of many costumes: Men in Black, James Bond, Hugh Heffner, a bodyguard. Someone even thought it was a Legally Blonde reference, and he was Emmett. This being said, he has no issues with you going as cowboy barbie or any of the other skimpy costumes you've worn throughout the years, as long as he gets to tag along and see you in it.

He doesn't even have to worry about jealousy, it's incredibly clear who you came with. He doesn't force you to stay by him, but the way your gaze travels to him at parties, the pretty curls you spent hours on bobbing around as you move around to find him in the crowd makes it incredibly obvious who you're tethered to. The pink, starred ascot that had been around your neck had been undone by a bathroom make out session and could now be found around his wrist. When you talk to friends, you make yourself cozy next to him, the drink you've been nursing for the better part of an hour in your hand as you lay your head on his chest, squirming deeper into him as what he whispers in your ear makes you shiver.

And you think you're being slick, but the way his hand plays on your thigh and the look in your eyes getting farther away says everything. So, when you abruptly say your goodbyes, no one is surprised that your car stays parked out front for at least a half hour.

It's really not the most comfortable arrangement, knee deep in the passenger seat or whatever Chapel said. Your head keeps bumping into the steering wheel, even with the seat being pushed as far back as it'll go, but his hand at the back of your head absorbs most of the impact. You hear it in his voice when he hisses extra loud, his eyes closing as he weighs out whether or not it's worth it to pull you off and drive home. He knows if he asks you, you'll just tell him to drive as he sucks you off and he is desperate enough to do just that.

Especially with the way you look right now. He's always been the type to initiate eye contact, and with how good you look right now, your make-up miraculously intact thanks to whatever waterproof mascara you use, spit dripping from your chin to the top of your tits, your cheeks red, eyes a bit gone from the lack of oxygen, he could cum just by looking at you. His little reminders, "Don't forget to breathe, doll. Through your nose, you can do it.", are quite necessary with your refusal to pull off until he spills down your throat, and fuck is he thankful. If you were in a teasing headspace and decided to edge him now, tears already in his eyes, half his energy going to steadying his own breath so he didn't pass out and the other half trying to keep him from bruising the back of your esophagus, he would probably cry.

You'd been going at it for a while already, pay back for all the lingering touches throughout the night and looking too good in that suit. The languid licks trailing from his leaking tip to his balls couldn't even be hurried along by his hips shallowly bucking into your mouth. You were in your own little world, moaning around his cock, hands pressed firmly in between your thighs as you buck into nothing while his honeyed praise goes through one ear and rattles around in your brain and spills out between your legs.

"Just a bit more. Doin' so good. So close.", he groans, so good. And he really doesn't last much longer, spurts of his cum shooting down your throat as he shudders and whimpers through the aftershocks. That post-nut clarity hits like a semi-truck when he looks out the very foggy windows to see Jayce out the window holding the clutch you left behind, looking entirely too shocked to have just walked up to the window. It's the scariest thing he saw all Halloween.

[cineatros]

･ ⟢ ⋮ last look ゛༝. ✦ daniela avanzini

"And then some days you wake up

pairing.ᐟ daniela avanzini x reader.

about.ᐟ Daniela never meant to let Y/N in, but from the moment they met, there was no stopping it. Their bond was fast, messy, and unbreakable—until one tragic night shattered everything. Now, drowning in loss and memories, Daniela must find a way to move forward, even when it feels impossible.

genre.ᐟ heavy angst. hurt no comfort.

cw.ᐟ established relationship, major character death, car accident, language.

wc.ᐟ 1159 words

a/n.ᐟ this is for anon who requested angst before valentines :D and i highly recommend to listen to the song while reading 'cause it'll hurt so good. Don't worry guys, I'll post fluff for after this (maybe)

and everything's perfect."

Daniela met Y/N.

It started at a college party, the kind neither of them wanted to be at. Daniela was nursing a drink, staring blankly at the crowd, and then Y/N was just there, somehow weaving herself into Daniela’s life with an ease that was both infuriating and magnetic. They became friends quickly, laughing too loudly in coffee shops, sneaking out of boring classes just to sit in the library together, talking about everything and nothing.

They had their ups and downs—fights that ended in slammed doors, silent treatments that stretched too long, reconciliations over shared cigarettes on apartment balconies, but through everything, they stayed.

They always stayed.

Tonight, Y/N had called her just minutes before, voice laced with urgency as she reassured Daniela that she had picked up the anniversary gift. Their car had broken down earlier that week, leaving Y/N no choice but to take the motorbike. Daniela had laughed, telling her to be careful, that they had all the time in the world.

“You should’ve just taken a cab,” Daniela muttered, gripping the umbrella tighter as she stood under it.

“I would have, but someone forgot her keys inside the apartment,” Y/N shot back, teasing. “It’s fine, Dani. Just a little rain.”

Daniela sighed, shaking her head even though Y/N couldn’t see it. “You always say that. Just get home, okay?”

“I’m almost there,” Y/N promised.

Then a sound—a sickening screech of tires against wet pavement, the sharp impact of metal against flesh and bone. The phone clattered to the ground, and Daniela’s heart dropped.

“Hello? Y/N?” Her voice was tight, frantic. “What happened? Why is there someone screaming?”

Silence.

“HELLO?”

Then the call disconnected.

The world didn’t shatter in an instant. It crumbled slowly, piece by piece, as Daniela stood frozen in the middle of their apartment, her fingers gripping the phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She redialed, over and over, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts. The minutes stretched, heavy and suffocating, until the call that ended her life came.

Y/N was gone.

In the days that followed, Daniela didn’t remember much of the funeral. Just hands on her back, voices murmuring words that meant nothing, and the crushing weight of absence. Everyone told her they were sorry, but sorry didn’t bring Y/N back.

Sorry didn’t make it hurt any less.

She couldn’t stay in the apartment anymore. Their home—once filled with laughter, warmth, and half-finished books—now felt like a mausoleum of memories she couldn’t escape. Every corner held a ghost, every room a whisper of Y/N’s laughter.

She moved out. She had to. Their apartment—no, her apartment now—was too much, too empty. Instead, she bought the house they had been saving for, the one Y/N had been so excited about. It felt like an insult to do it without her, to step into a dream they had built together alone, but she did it anyway.

Packing was the hardest part.

She wandered into Y/N’s office, surrounded by shelves coated in dust, boxes filled with remnants of a life they had planned. Her fingers traced the spines of books Y/N had promised to read, their framed pictures still clinging to the walls, the office chair still tucked neatly under the desk as if Y/N would come back at any moment and sit down.

She slid down the wall, a drink in hand, staring at nothing. The apartment was silent now, unbearably so.

Then, a voice.

“You know you can just get rid of it, right?”

She turned, and there she was. Y/N, sitting beside her, the same lopsided smile, the same teasing glint in her eyes. She wasn’t real—couldn’t be, but Daniela didn’t care. She just looked at her, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“You know I can’t do that,” she murmured.

Y/N smiled softly. “But keep our photos, though. We looked happy there, and you looked too good in your twenties.”

Daniela let out a broken laugh, her chest tightening. “I know. You always tell me that.”

Y/N just gave her a soft smile. “It won’t always be like this.”

Daniela shook her head. “And why wouldn’t it? What’s going to change it?”

“Time.”

Y/N leaned her head on Daniela’s shoulder, her presence warm and familiar. “It wasn’t your fault, Dani,” she whispered.

“But why does it feel like it is? Why does it feel like I’m being eaten alive by this guilt?”

Y/N wiped away the tears that spilled down Daniela’s cheeks. “It’ll go on like that until it doesn’t.” She held Daniela’s face in her hands, pressing their foreheads together. Daniela broke, her sobs raw and unrestrained. Her mind kept replaying the doctor’s voice, the moment the world shattered around her.

“It was the drunk driver who was at fault, my love.” Y/N continued, her voice calm, even as tears traced silent paths down Daniela’s cheeks. “You’ll feel guilty and hungover and just... shit.”

Daniela choked on a sob. “I should’ve been there.”

Daniela shook her head violently. “How do I move on from this? What if I don’t want to? What if I just want you here, because I can’t—I can’t let you go?”

Y/N smiled sadly. “My love, you’ll just hurt yourself more if you do that. There are things that need to be let go.”

Y/N pressed a kiss to Daniela’s forehead, the ghost of a touch, the whisper of something slipping through her fingers. The two sat in silence, Y/N fading into the dim light of the room, until Daniela was alone again.

And she knew—truly knew—that she wasn’t coming back.

The house felt hollow.

The walls echoed with silence.

The bed was too big.

The books stayed unread.

Daniela tried. She really did. She went through the motions, unpacked, made coffee in the mornings, and went for walks, but there were still nights where she reached for her phone, muscle memory dialing Y/N’s number before she remembered. There were still days where she set out two plates instead of one, still moments where she turned to share a joke, only to be met with nothing but empty air.

She had known love. Had lived it. Had lost it.

And now, she had to figure out how to keep going without it.

It wasn’t a grand moment of healing. It was small things. Breathing. Moving. Letting time pass. It was placing a book on Y/N’s shelf instead of leaving it empty. It was standing in the kitchen without breaking down. It existed. Surviving. And sometimes, that had to be enough.

One day, it wouldn’t feel like this. One day, it wouldn’t hurt so much. One day, maybe—just maybe—she’d wake up, and it wouldn’t feel like the world had ended.

But not today.

'Cause Y/N was not just a chapter in her story. She was the whole damn book.