#and it’s hard to feel like you’ve accomplished something when all you did was not do something. but you did!

[miss-morland]

dennis in dtamhd is so bpd recovery coded i feel so much about it <333333

[kyseya]

Ancient Mummy

Imagine working as an archaeologist for a museum. However things hasn’t been going so well lately and there are hardly any visitors during opening hours. Sadly, you’ll be forced to close multiple exhibitions and if conditions are not met, the entire museum might have to shut down.

But by some miracle, a new tomb has been discovered in Egypt; undisturbed, unexplored and completely untouched by humans for centuries. It’s said to be the grave of an ancient king- a pharaoh- who was betrayed and murdered by his own cousin.

It’s the perfect opportunity! Maybe you’ll find something that can bring back interest and by extension, save the museum.

You go along with a few other colleagues to the site in Egypt. The journey was a bit tough but it was a hindered percent worth it. With avid curiosity you explore alone and with the others, the different things to find inside the tomb; artifacts and additional discoveries. It’s all very interesting. Wanting to save the best for last, you finally get an in-person look at the grave itself- the sarcophagus.

You have already heard the main tale of the pharaoh within, so you are a little surprised that there is more to the story than you previously believed.

Over the entire stone coffin were multiple hieroglyphs, each one helping and becoming a story together. Your collegue read some inscriptions and told you a basic summary of what it’s about.

Centuries ago there was a king. He had a wife whom he adored more than anything. She was provided with riches, glory and honour. There was nothing he wouldn’t accomplish for her. The people saw the care he held for his wife and therefore both respected and feared her as well, since any ounce of rudeness might end up with their heads spiked on a pole. It was a punishment fitting for those who dare disrespect his queen.

Unfortunately tragedy struck- a disease, more specifically. It took the lives of many and left whole villages empty. That hardly mattered to the pharaoh though, all his focus went to his ill wife; she, too, had been snatched by death. Up until the moment of her demise the pharaoh spent all day and all night at her side, attentively worrying about her needs. When she was gone he was ruined. He didn’t eat, he didn’t sleep, he didn’t even have the energy to clean himself. What was the point? His beloved was gone so there wasn’t really anything left for him.

It was after this that everything took a turn. It appeared that the king had enough with laying around and decided to do something. There were records of him behaving strangely- even by ancient standards- and drabbling in dark magic. He was later overthrown by his brother, who ordered him to be buried alive. It was quite the terrifying penalty go give one’s sibling. The brother didn’t want the darkness to spread out into the world from the old pharaoh, so he locked him inside the sarcophagus and sealed him far away.

What a tragic story, you thought. Well it was back in the old times and a lot of things were practiced then that aren’t okay in modern day. You suppose it wasn’t the most horrible incident that have happened.

It hadn’t been long since your colleague told you the backstory of the tomb and its inhibitor, but now the others wants to get to the good part and open up the stone coffin. You don’t think it’s the best idea in the world- of course something like this needs to be examined closely and so on, but there is something special about the tomb.

Ever since you’ve arrived, you have had a strange feeling following you around. It’s hard to explain. You feel almost drawn to the sarcophagus or perhaps it’s because it feels as if it is looking back at you. You tried ignoring it, however, the feeling came back stronger than ever the moment the others began preparing to open it up.

You should have told them of your concerns. If you did, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

The first few seconds after opening it everything was fine. All was as it should be; people flocking around to see the discovery and fawn over it while being mindful of its fragility. Then it changed. Your colleague who had been the closest had suddenly been strangled by the thin, dirty arm belonging to none other than the ancient corpse that previously had been resting in death. Everyone was silent as her face turned blue from the lack of oxygen. It was only after she fell to the floor dead that people began panicking. It was hard to process what had just happened, after all.

There was chaos.

Folk ran around like chickens fleeing from a fox that’d managed to get inside the coop. In a way, that was exactly what was going on, though. You had watched as the mummified corpse sat right up and climbed its way out of the cold coffin. It stumbled on its bony legs and quickly found a cornered man and approached him. He screamed when the mummy grabbed ahold of his face and brought it before its own. The creature started sucking the life out of the man- literally.

The man who had previously been a healthy and active person was now shrivelled up like a raisin. His face was dry and wrinkled. He died soon afterwards, only a soft wheeze leaving his lips as he passed.

The opposite seemed to happen to the former-corpse, though. It attacked more and more people and for every kill, it appeared to revert to its original state- a man, pharaoh of an ancient kingdom. The flesh grew back and filled up in the right places and he seemed human again.

How can that be? He had been dead for centuries. Although, just about everything was pretty fucked up in this moment, so his make-over is the least important factor.

You backed into a corner. Your eyes followed the mummy’s every move, it was impossible to look away. There was hardly anyone left apart from you. The one person that was still there was getting attacked by the monster and it wasn’t long until they were reduced to nothing.

Now it was just you and the creature, and it appeared it knew that too.

It turned to look at you. The mummy had now completely reverted back into a man and he was nothing short of breathtaking(and very naked, but you tried not to think about it). It pained to to admit it but it was the truth. He was easily the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. His long, dark hair flowed when he stalked towards you. Despite his outer beauty, you couldn’t forget what you’d just witnessed him do.

Trembling, you pressed yourself against the wall. “Stay away.” you weakly mumbled.

‘This is it. My time is over.’

You closed your eyes in fear and braced yourself for the pain that would undoubtedly come; only it didn’t. Instead of death, a hand grazed your cheek. It was a light touch, one reserved for something valuable and fragile.

A raspy voice talked, “…My love..it is you..”

You had no idea what he said, it sounded like an ancient language. You had studied hieroglyphs but did not know anything about what speech might’ve sounded like. You decided to be brave and slightly opened your eyes.

The mummy was staring at you, but there was no malice or hatred in his expression. In fact, the only emotion you could find on his face was amazement, shock and….love? No, that can’t be. This is not some ‘lovers reunited’ situation.

“How can this be? Death took you and left me all alone- not that I hold you accountable, of course. I know you would never seek to hurt me.” the mummy kept muttering to himself. “Perhaps….the magic worked after all?”

His face brightened and he smiled gently at you. Whilst he happily went on about something, you became more confused than earlier. What the hell was going on? He committed multiple murders in one swoop and now, suddenly, he is acting like you’re friends talking about your day. He isn’t even human! Or at least not anymore, not really.

You voiced this opinion weakly, “Ummm, could you let me go?” You tried pulling away from his touch, uncomfortable at his caresses.

His brows furrowed at your reaction. From the look of it, he didn’t understand you any better than you did him. He focused at the subtle way you attempted to peel his hand off your arm. You let out a yelp when his arms snaked around your waist and he pulled you into his embrace.

He leaned down and whispered into your ear, petting your hair at the same time. “Wife, why do you seem unhappy at my presence? I do not understand. Are you not joyous at our reunion? I love you so, I cannot comprehend any reason why you would not wish to see me.”

Even if you didn’t know what he was saying, you could hear the sadness in his voice. The pain and desperation. No! You couldn’t feel sad for him. He had murdured multiple of your colleagues, he’s evil! Although, why hasn’t he killed you yet? It’s very strange indeed.

The mummy continued, “I can sense things are not as they used to be. Things are different now. Although I do not know the extent of it. However I am most certain of one thing; I have miraculously been reunited with my love and I do not plan on letting you fall through my grasp again.”

He held you in an almost suffocating hug.

“I shall make you my queen once more.”

[vifilms]

tattoo artist!vi who takes notice of just how beautiful you are the moment you step foot in her shop. it’d be the most difficult task in the world to not notice just how insanely breathtaking you are. it’s clear by the smirk on your glossy lips. you know just how good you look. caitlyn, being the woman she is, tries to jump in first. you’re just her type. violet would know, cait’s dated the anti-thesis of her since the moment you broke up. caitlyn kiramman loves pretty girls. anything she can do to be underneath them, she’ll find a way. you fit her bill. violet tried not to take offense of the ways your eyes light up taking to her ex-girlfriend. maybe you’re just nice. that’s it, right? two minutes, someone who is almost as gorgeous as you walks in and then violet forgets about you as her next client walks in. she tries to at least.

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t stop thinking about you. it’s new york. there’s plenty of pretty girls she can drown herself in. well, if she could figure out how to ask someone out without her crippling anxiety suffocating her. she knows she’s somewhat attractive but her lack of knowing how to efficiently communicate it without sound like the weirdest fuck who has ever lived gets lost in translation. she doesn’t like how sure cait is of herself when she talks about you though. violet doesn’t even know you but seeing the glint in those aquatic-blue eyes make her want to punch something. it’s hard to even tell if it due to her budding crush or that it’s her ex. probably both but she ignores it.

tattoo artist!vi who likes to frequent bars on her days off. it’s when she doesn’t feel alone. it’s fun to bug her sister, powder. she’s always been more of a free spirit out of the two of them. an artist, a wanderer, someone who choses to bartend a couple nights out of the week just because she liked meeting new people, learning their story, what makes them tick. are they a mean drunk, happy, or will they burst into tears when you ask them how they’re doing? vi isn’t either really. she’s quiet, calm even, but tonight part of her wants to cry. she feels lonely, lost, and even a little bit upset caitlyn is your first choice. she only knows your name because of the clientele list and that just feels pathetic. violet’s never been the smoothest of talkers, she knows that more than she feels the blood coursing through her veins. she isn’t the girl and she’s perfectly fine with it. perfectly. fine.

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t even enjoy work anymore. three months in and you’ve been cait’s girlfriend and the feeling only gets worse. it’s cliché. a little fucked, but being in love with her ex’s girlfriend? it doesn’t get any lower than this. she let it slip days ago, only to powder, thank fucking god. if violet knew one thing, she didn’t wanna deal with caitlyn’s wrath. according to maddie, she’d been a dog with a bone when it came to you. so protective it nearly turned into possession. she wanted everyone to know that you were hers and not anyone else’s. it wasn’t new to violet, cait didn’t like being runner up to anyone. it’s why their relationship ended in the first place, especially when the girlfriend feels inferior to the sister. when powder comes around to the shop, cait can’t help but wear her disgust all over her face like a poorly concealed mask. vi thinks it’s silly. the both of them are nearly the same it’s almost sickening. if only the other took the time to know the object of their disdain, they would see two peas sitting in a pod.

tattoo artist!vi who hates a messy shop. when personal items are left behind or someone’s station isn’t properly sanitized and clean. it’s why she’s here, alone on the sunday, the only day the shop is closed. it’s been too long since she did a deep clean, just a week or too, but that’s long enough for her. she’s always been proud of what she’s been able to accomplish her. even if she didn’t have much, a girlfriend to love on, or if her father was on the other side of the country, she had this. violet ink. it was her name out on the sign over seeing the street, the luminous violet led lights kissing the downtown street. she made it this far and she couldn’t let anyone run her off from something she fought so hard to build from the ground up. it’s why she was surprised when she saw you. your face free of makeup, your hair in it’s natural state, and you appeared more laid back than you ever were — in her shop. it feels like a fever dream she never wishes to wake up from. cait must have given you a spare key to the shop which she would have a discussion with her about that later because what the fuck? but it’s hard for her to stay mad when you’re standing there looking like a million bucks in the most casual pair of sweats she’s ever seen. it feels different to who you usually are. shredded of the image you maintain, stripped back, there’s just a softer version of yourself and vi can’t help but contemplate if this is the side you’re so reluctant to show.

tattoo artist!vi who stutter how some stupid joke, trying to break the ice and it should have made things more awkward than they already were but your laugh full of symphonies just makes violet smile. in her best efforts, she craves to conceal it from you but it’s impossible when you’re looking at her. she can’t help but smile — so she does. desperately, violet tries not to act nervous when you’re looking at her designs on the wall, not saying a word, just inspecting. there’s a chill in her bones she feels, a need for her work to be loved because if it isn’t? it eats her up from the inside out. maybe it’s embarrassing but she needs her work to be loved. what’s the point if it isn’t? it’s always been an extension of her soul, her life, and if someone doesn’t like it? all they say is they don’t like her. it may be the silliest thing in the world, but she needs to be adored. from a complete stranger, from the people who she’s permanently tattooing, and especially from the beautiful women violet can’t stop daydreaming about.

tattoo artist!vi who blushes when you tell her how much you love her designs. there’s a soft touch to her shoulder, your thumb lightly tracing circles in her sturdy bicep. it feel innocent enough but vi doesn’t give herself much time to think about it. painfully, she takes note in how your eyes soar when they make contact with her designs. even if it makes her cocky, violet knows she’s good at her job. clients flying in from all over the country, just to get tattooed by her. with your undeniable charm, you’ve convinced her to do a custom design for you but you wanna discuss it on sunday’s, alone. if anything, she should know this isn’t a good idea. you’re charming, gorgeous and the prettiest thing she’s ever seen. she should be afraid of caitlyn’s wrath, of what would happen if she found out, but it’s innocent…right? she’s a professional. no matter how much she’s attracted to a client, it’s never been an issues and she certainly won’t make it one now. vi nods and the second she does, you’re leaping in her arms, into her space. you smell of lavender and lilies, like spring in the beginning of march. a sun-kissed marvel aching for the shine of summer, for one breath of fresh air. it’s really all she wants, a moment to be in the sunshine with you, if only for a moment at least she could tell the moon about it. her best kept secret and she would cherish every bit of it. 

tattoo artist!vi who tries to keep her head down low as the weeks carry on. even when you try to make more of an effort to speak with her, the last thing she needs is caitlyn to take one final look at her and realize just how much she likes the attention. maddie already made one comment, even if it was light-hearted — it’s enough to keep her on edge. with the design being complete, all she needs is to tattoo but violet’s been avoiding you and what’s worse? you knew it too. in her true avoidant style, violet failed to go to the shop the last two weeks on sunday. the tidiness and damn right organization of her shop was suffering but she still had plans of avoiding it. rather avoiding you, but in her forest fire of a mind, it comes all the same. all of this is so trivial, so stupid, so tragic. it’s kiramman’s day off and violet and sevika are the only artists on hand today which means she’s overworked. the both of them are tired and violet just completed her last session of the day. she sneaks to the back enjoying the cigarette she’d been itching to have. violet’s on her second one when you corner her into the brick wall she’s leaning on. you’re too close. dangerously close, almost as if the fire you’ve created in violet’s lungs might cause her to burn from the inside out. it’s chilling how silent you are until you aren’t. you’re loud about the way you caress her exposed biceps, tracing the lines of her intricate tattoo as it crawls up shoulders and so do your hands. with a sharp graze, you scrap your nails across her skin as if you want to leave a reminder that she was in fact here. should she even even be here? letting you touch her in the way you are? but it’s not like vi has much of a choice when you push the hem of her tank top up to her ribcage, showcasing the flexing abs on her abdomen. it may be faint but there’s a happy trail, one violet wants to see your lips on but she’s scared to say anything, to move, to breathe. “caitlyn said you were ripped underneath. i wanted to see for myself.” then your touch is gone and you are with it. 

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t show up on sunday…for the first couple of hours. violet thinks of that night, the way you touched her, like you knew exactly what to do before she even could think of what she wanted next. how on earth did you manage to paralyze her with a mere flick of your wrist? when your nails clawed at her toned abdomen, violet felt the stickiness in her boxers and you’d done all of nothing. she had to put an end to things, the private session, violet couldn’t do it. she didn’t want to be caught in some weird and perversed love triangle with her ex. in the back of her throat, violet feels the lump she constantly has to swallow. the only reasonable explanation is that this, you, is all some weird fantasy of caitlyn to get the last laugh. to fully degrade her in a way she couldn’t, not when you’re the person who gets broken up with. it’s not a secret caitlyn’s ego had taken a hit. to anyone, not being the first choice stings but to cait? it might as well be a death sentence and certainly it wouldn’t stand. 

tattoo artist!vi who isn’t one for confrontation but in the need to savor some of her salvation in her dignity, she walks in the shop. you’re still waiting for her. two hours later, you’d hoped she’d show. ”violet, you came.” it’s endearing but violet also sees herself the night before tangled in her black sheets, vibrator on its highest setting as she applies pressure to her clit, fingers nestled so deep inside her cunt as she hears your voice, thinks about your irresistible lips. violet wonders what you sound like when you come and suddenly the thought sends her hurling towards the edge. the smile you offer is almost like you can see right through her, like you know vi came to the idea of you just the night before. 

with a slender smile, you make your way over to her and suddenly the internal dialogue she created to put an end to this arrangement died on your tongue when she shrugs vi’s leather jacket off. she’s only wearing her wrap to cover her chest, not intending on staying for a long time. definitely not enough to finish the beautiful design she created for you. she’d get cait to do it. their styles were similar to it. your girlfriend has to do this. but you’re touching her bare skin. vi is losing focus as she feels the control slip into your greedy fingers. 

“i know what you’re gonna say.” 

“and what’s that?” 

“you wanna stop this, meeting me here, you feel like you’re betraying someone you love and you have too much integrity to keep seeing someone you so obviously want to fuck.” 

“i can’t—” but the words die on violet’s tongue. 

“sense won’t get to you, that’s something caitlyn didn’t understand. you think with your heart of gold. when it drips for someone, you’d let it bleed out if it meant you were saving someone.” you take a pause, slipping off your shirt as your pierced nipples are exposed. violet nearly begins to drool, her eyes unable to look away from your perfect nipples, the swell of your breast how perfectly they fall on your chest, she’s nearly salivating to be offered a taste. “my girlfriend doesn’t understand you’ve found someone else to be loyal to.” 

“this is not, um, i didn’t—” 

sweetly, you kiss her cheek. “it’s such a bitch isn’t it? your heart wants whatever the fuck it yearns for, no damn mercy on who it hurts.”  

violet can only think of how much she wants to be suffocated by your tits, forever trapped in this venus fly trap you’ve caused her to succumb to. with her best foot forward, she wants to tell you to go to hell, that you’re wrong about her — she would never do something like this — until she does. it’s all tongue and teeth, vitriol and lust spills into her mouth as violet pushes you on the bench, ripping your skirt to shreds with her bare hands. only to find nothing underneath. 

bent over the table, ass up in the air, violet wastes not a single moment and stuffs her face in your fat ass. with a gratifying need, she splits your folds on her tongue as she slaps your ass making you whimper and cry out for her name. it’s beautiful, violet thinks. someone needing her to bring them to the edge, and god, you aren’t shy about it either. never has she heard anyone be so loud and proud about sex. so goddamn confident in each moan you let fall from pornogrpahic lips, it’s damn invigorating. the first one comes easily, you spill over vi’s tongue as she moans back into your weeping pussy, liquid gushing over her face violet never wants it to end. the second time violet fucks you with her fingers, stuffing and fucking until there isn’t any part of you that isn’t undeniably shaking. the third time, you’re on top of her, the two of you finding comfortablity on the cot in the break room as violet lets you fuck her. 

exactly what she expects it to be; hot, rough, fast. slippery pussy rubbing against hers until you collapse on top of her, breast pressed against her binded ones. you have a feeling they are there for a reason and you don’t push, for once in your life, you let yourself succumb to sleep as you fall asleep in her arms. 

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t see you for three months after she had the best sex of her life. even if it does sting, vi knows it’s for the best. six months in and you’re still with caitlyn despite your best efforts. surprising everyone, but violet for different reasons, you admit your slip up to cait but she forgives you. maddie and sevika make a game of it, trying to guess who make you cheat and when violet’s name comes up jokingly, caitlyn’s words leave an unsettling pit in her stomach. 

c’mon, what is violet going to do? look at her. she’s as loyal as a trained dog and i have you trained. don’t i, cupcake? 

tattoo artist!vi who focuses on her work, like a trained dog, she falls back into her routine. sunday’s aren’t as pleasurable as they were with you, or one sunday she should say, but she dismisses the thought altogether. pushing it to the deepest parts of her mind becomes the only viable option. she uses other forms of entertainment to get her mind off of you. powder thinks it’s a good idea to be here but she refuses to step foot in here with her. this is where my path ends, sis. i’ll be just up the hill when you’re ready. a not so subtle wink has her cringing and flipping her off blue-haired braided sister off in the process. this is such a good stupid idea but violet doesn’t manage to convince herself out of this situation she’s conducted for herself. anyways, it’s one night? no one ever has to know. from the moment she steps into the strip club, she knows she never should have been here. she keeps to the bar as she changes songs from the jukebox a few times. this has never been her scene nor will it ever. as she finishes off her class of neat whiskey, the familiar voice whispers into her ear, never thought you’d be here but i guess we’re both full of surprises.

[yaseraphine]

pick a card 3 - something you need to hear right now.

Last day where the Sun is in Scorpio. First day where the Sun enters Sagittarius.

The month of November is always a tough month for everyone. This pick a card is aimed to give some guidance through these dark times. Scorpio energy can be sometimes overwhelmingly intense and gloomy, but it holds great power. Use this energy to die peacefully, and shed your old skin. Like a phoenix, we will all rise from our ashes.

Words of encouragement, healing messages and a tiny bit of reality checks are what this reading will bring you. Hope it resonates.

Pile 1 

The World, 2 of Wands, Knight of Wands, Page of Swords, 10 of Swords (Rx), Queen of Pentacles (Rx?)

Top of the deck : 8 of Cups

Bottom of the deck : 2 of Swords

Life path 7 / Life path 11

“You don’t drown by falling in the water, you drown by staying there.”

“Do what makes you fucking happy”

additional quote : “Do what makes your soul shine <3”

Right off the bat, there is a sense of urgency in walking away from something and making a firm decision. I think you have been in denial about something in your life, avoiding it by trying to live a “normal life”. You’ve been focusing on your day to day tasks as a distraction but something has been at the back of your mind for a while now. And when I say for a while, I mean at least two years, or one year. It is something that you have, overtime, subconsciously suppressed because at the time this thing, career, job, creative endeavor,.. was important to you, but you did not have (or thought you didn’t have) enough knowledge and resources to take methodical practical steps towards it. I am picking up that this might have been something that happened slightly before or during the pandemic (2019/2020). The World fell out of the deck, and this card indicates the completion of a cycle, an ending. After it, the 2 of Wands fell, which indicates future planning, progress, decision and discovery. I feel like the message you need to hear is that now is the perfect time to start this project of yours, or at least plan the practical actions you need to take over the course of the next few months to accomplish it. Don’t overthink over certain details and possible technical issues. There is a fire inside of you that you consistently turned off, thinking and hoping that the embers would eventually die out. The problem you are currently facing is that they never did. You might have an Aries North node. Being assertive and independent doesn’t come easy to you. Starting projects and following your instincts without second guessing yourself is hard. You tried to manage your truest and deepest desires but I feel like this past year, the desire to let it all out, probably influenced by the Lunar nodes being in the sign of Aries and Libra, urging you to just go for it, intensified to the point of suffocation. 

Your spirit guides are urging you to take this leap of faith, to walk confidently towards that goal like The Fool, without worrying if you run the risk of falling from a ravine in the process.

They’re telling you to start slow, to take a step by step approach while still keeping a strong mindset. You will come out victorious only if you’re able to keep pushing through the obstacles. What awaits you is a slow and steady marathon and growth. You can do it !

Oracle cards from the Green With Oracle pulled for you : 

16 - Memory / Rosemary => Leo energy

“Deeper levels of connection with people, concepts and plans are all areas that Rosemary works with. You are reminded to ensure you are in touch with your inner wisdom, paying heed to the past, and have cleared what needs to be released. Listen to your intuition as it is calling to you at present, but be wary of gossip or becoming tactless or too forceful.”

5 - Grounding / Potato => Virgo energy

“Explore the deepest, innermost areas of yourself and situations, as potatoes indicate energies that are calling you to look again at what you may have once missed and will help to bring stability. If you are looking for an answer, try pulling back a little to let things settle on their own first. Challenges at the moment may include ignorance, self-centeredness and forgetfulness, so make sure you are compassionate and focused.

You are called to use all the knowledge you acquired overtime to finally take action. You’re currently ending a cycle. You have enough wisdom to make a plan that will lead you closer and closer to tangible success. Trust your intuition and inner guidance. Don’t make rash decisions, but be decisive.

Just realized these two cards have the same message in the guide book ! This is a crazy coincidence. I used it many times and never paid attention. I didn’t even know two cards could have the same message. This is crazy lol.  Let me share the quote with you : 

 “When the world wearies and society fails to satisfy, there is always the garden”

Pile 2 

2 of cups, 3 of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, Ace of Wands, The Star, 2 of Swords, Page of Pentacles 10 of Pentacles

“The same light you see in others is shining within you too.”

(there are a lot of references to light, stars,shining,;. throughout the reading. Are you drawn to space ? or the galaxy ? You’re probably a huge astrology, and/or astronomy nerd. You are probably also a huge dreamer. Maybe drawn to the idea of being a starseed. You might have strong aquarius placements, or a populated 11th house. Pluto finally going in Aquarius this week is going to grant you so much luck and recognition ! You are about to step into your power for the next 20 years. Like a rocket, you are about to fly towards the stars. Are you ready for the take off ?  

“Don’t let the ugliness of others kill the beauty in you”

Something you need to hear is that you are about to be blessed by the universe ! Shooting Star by XG just started playing !

“Babe, if I give it my all, will it pay off?

Workin' overtime, no days off

All these shootin' stars in the dark (Yeah)

All these shootin' stars in the dark, make a wish (Yeah)

Takin' off from the ground, it's amazin'

So outta this world, I'm in space

Now I'm goin' up, headin' to the stars

Wouldn't trade it out for another life, no

Yeah, we ridin', ridin', ridin' on up (Woo)

So shinin', shinin', shinin' for sure

Ooh, ah, I'm lookin' so lavish (Shinin', shinin', yeah)

Ooh, ah, put in work like it's a habit (I'm lookin' so lavish)

It's a big move, every day's like a dream

Makin' big moves as I should 'cause I'm a queen (Ooh)

Ooh, ah, I'm lookin' so lavish

Ooh, ah, yeah, I bet you can't imagine (Oh yeah)”

You are shining on your way towards the stars. You are currently in your Queen of Wands and Ace of Wands energy, (Million Dollar Baby just started playing, you’re really sure of yourself and goal oriented right now).

You are bursting with confidence and assertiveness. You are determined towards your goals. You are in a “work hard, play hard” type of energy. If it’s not currently happening, you are about to have a huge burst of popularity on whatever you’re currently working on. Could be any project, a youtube channel, a business : there are a few people that are well respected in the industry you're aiming for that are eyeing you right now and that are about to offer you a contract/ a deal/ a collaboration. They have been probably on a hunt for someone like you for a while now and they were probably starting to lose hope until they came across your page/work/profile. They see you as a Star, you’re unique and like The Star in the tarot, you represent hope and faith to them/to their business/ association/school/company. They see your raw potential and they are going to help you refine it. 

Right now, you’re probably more focused on your work/ career/ school and nurturing your friendships, going out. You’re basically active in your social circles and this is benefiting you a lot ! 

An additional message you need to know is that you’re attracting a soulmate! It’s not necessarily a romantic soulmate, could be a friendship, a mentor.. Whatever the nature of this relationship is, it is going to fill you up with even more joy and hope! Your spirit guides are so proud of you and of all the work you have been putting in lately. Even though it was hard, you stayed patient and worked diligently towards your goals and desired reality. You did a lot of shadow work, tried your best to let go of the limiting beliefs that were holding you back. The Universe wants to tell you they are about to reward you.

Oracle card from the Green With Oracle pulled for you : 

40 - Positivity / Marigold : Leo energy (again you are shining and radiating confidence! Your solar plexus chakra and sacral chakra might be in overdrive currently! You are the main character in the play that is your life.)

 “A better understanding is indicated and a reason to be more optimistic about outcomes and the roads to get there. There are opportunities for nurturing encounters and a general aura of happiness pervades. Marigolds help us focus on the positive aspects of even the most difficult events. Your inner child may need to come out for a play, and be sure to take creative invitations. Be wary of not having all the facts and of emotional blockages.”

Pile 3

TW : this pile is a bit sad and angsty.

Before I pulled any cards for you, I already felt your energy overlapping in Pile 2’s reading. Your energy was really intense, deep and melancholic. Sad songs started playing, which completely contradicted pile 2’s energy (which was overwhelmingly positive). You are probably going through a really tough period right now and your soul is desperately crying for help, praying for a hand to come and save you. You have been having really painful realizations regarding your past, especially your childhood. You’ve recently realized that the child inside of you was buried alive. You’ve recently realized that you lost your essence. While growing up, you accommodated to the world around you, what people expected of you, what was “normal”, what was acceptable. By bowing down to other people’s expectations, you let your true self die slowly. You’ve been on autopilot for a while now, completely numb and empty. There is a bit of mirroring between this pile and pile 1 of suppressing one's authentic self and desires. 

Right now, you feel that your heart has been almost rotting inside. You lost all of your passion and your spark of life. But, don’t worry, what you need to hear now is that this painful realization is what is going to set you free. It is the first step towards a really deeply healing period where you are going to reconnect with your inner child. I heard : “The truth will set you free, but first, it will piss you off”. Did you read my last reading by any chance ? I am getting the energy that you chose pile 2 and 3, both or just one, or that you would resonate with those two piles for some reason. Don’t hesitate to check it out, you might find some comforting messages I heard ! 

Now, let me pull some cards for you. I don’t know why, but I felt drawn to use different decks than the ones I used for the first two piles. So, your pile will have different messages (no message from the Green Witch oracle for you)

 [took a little break before going to your pile. You probably need to slow down on your day to day tasks. I know it’s really hard in the productivity obsessed capitalist world we live in, and it is a huge privilege to be able to have enough time and energy to spiritually reconnect with ourselves, but this is what your spirit guides are urging you to do. You’ve got this.]

For you, I used the Occult Tarot and the Heavenly Bodies Astrology deck.

I only pulled 2 cards, one per deck (it was supposed to be like that but more cards sneaked in while shuffling haha) I feel like you need just a simple check up.

Cardinal - Instigation, Bravery and A pioneering spirit => your lost spark and childlike innocence will soon be reignited by a deep healing period. A new beginning is coming for you, but it will take some hibernating time before it comes. 

Sagittarius - Optimism, Exploration and Freedom

Trine - Angelic Support, Harmony and Perfect Flow

Reconnect to your higher self and spiritual side. Disconnect from the direct, yet understandable, dissatisfaction you feel towards life. Your embers that were slowly dying will relive, just trust the process, enter the deepest parts of yourself and keep exploring with positivity : your angels will guide you. There is a team of spirit guides and angels that are proud of your progress. Even if you don’t see it, they do and they want to tell you : There is light at the end of the tunnel, keep on walking.

The Hermit and the Ace of Swords :  The truth about your past came out, now is the time to meditate on those realizations and integrate them. Alchemize the pain in wisdom. You are about to come out stronger than ever. Isolate yourself, or at least try to keep your peace and have a lot of alone time (without completely stopping socializing altogether, humans are social creatures, connecting with people is important for our wellbeing) to ponder, analyze, decrypt all the patterns that you’ve been repeating. Reconnect with your inner child, look at photos of yourself when you were younger, delve deep into your childhood and childhood wounds. Maybe try to find what your attachment style is, anything that stems from your childhood that has been making you stuck in a rut these past years. Maybe, if you can, try to heal the relationship you had with your parents/parent or primary caregiver. Try to understand the nature of you guys’ relationship to see how it affects your self worth now. You've got this, trust me.

here is a link to my ko-fi.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Celebratory Dinner

Aemond Targaryen x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Aemond wants to try something new for your one year anniversary.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, fluff, lovestruck Aemond, oral (f. & m. receiving), 69, spanking, manhandling, rimming (f. receiving)

A/N: This is straight up porn lmao. A request by anon from last December, enjoy! 🩵

Word Count: 1800

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“What time did you say we have reservations?”

Observing your reflection, an annoyed huff leaves your lips as you try to pin your hair back for what feels like the 50th time.

Uncooperative, it seems like your locks stubbornly refuse to wield into the style you have in mind.

Fuck it.

You throw the pin into the sink and sigh loudly, hands coming up to harshly unravel your hard work.

Before you get the chance to do more damage, Aemond appears behind you and gently places his hands over yours,

“In 30 minutes”

He leans to the side and picks up the hair pin you’d thrown into the sink.

“Let me help you”, he says softly, inspecting your hair before sliding the pin between your strands to effortlessly accomplish what you’d spent a good 10 minutes fussing over.

You roll your eyes when the cocksure smirk you’ve come to expect appears in the mirror.

“You’re insufferable”, you mumble, inspecting your hair. He had a habit of being unexplainably talented whenever he tried something out, especially tasks that required him to work with his hands. It was equally enchanting and infuriating.

“You love me”, is all he retorts. He’s still standing behind you, watching you through the mirror with an intense glint in his eye, “You look beautiful”

He ducks his head down to press a kiss to your cheek while his hands grabbing your hips. You lean back against him, smiling as you regard the pair of you in the mirror.

One year today.

When you first met Aemond, he didn’t give the best impression with his stern demeanour and one-worded answers. But as you got to know him better, you soon learned that his stoic appearance merely worked as a façade for him to hide behind. He doesn’t hide from you anymore.

“What kind of place is it? Dornish?”, you ask as Aemond places kisses down the side of your neck.

He hums in reply, lips refusing to leave your skin.

“Did your mum recommend it?”, you tease, knowing that anytime you two ventured outside of the regular rotation of restaurant Aemond deemed worthy a visit, it was by the influence of his mother.

You feel him smile against your skin, and it’s all the confirmation you need. The hands on your hips begin to caress your sides slowly as his mouth moves down to your exposed shoulder.

“So, celebratory dinner. What about the rest of the evening?”, you ponder aloud as Aemond’s attention stays on exploring your softness with his lips.

“I have a few ideas”, he murmurs, mouth coming up to nibble at your ear, “But I prefer showing you over telling you”

You feel a bolt of excitement travel through your body at the thought. He’s ridiculously skilled at rendering you a wanting mess, and the brief attention he’d offered you now had already left the apex of your thighs delightfully sticky. Maybe there’s time for a quick pre-dinner treat?

You push your ass against him, slightly wiggling your hips in provocation, hoping he’ll take the bait.

He does. Aemond traps you in the embrace of his strong arms as he roughly pulls your body against his, the hard proof of his arousal pushing against your backside.

“You want me to show you right now?”, he lowly inquires against the shell of your ear, and the sudden husky tint to his voice sends you deeper into the trenches of desire.

You grind your ass against him in reply, head rolling back to rest against his shoulder. You tilt your head slightly to the side, careful not to ruin the styling Aemond had helped you achieve.

Impatient, a state you often find yourself in around your partner, you start pulling at the form-fitted evening dress you’re wearing, visions of him taking you against the vanity unit flashing before your eyes. Even after being together for a full year, the effect he has on you is potent, if not a little worrying.

Aemond’s hands find yours as he once again restricts their movement, grabbing your wrists in one hand as the other moves down to land a smack against your still covered ass.

“We’re not celebrating our anniversary with a quick fuck in the bathroom”, he chides, voice low and still calm, “Get on the bed”

You feel giddy with excitement as you rush out of the bathroom, moving to quickly sit on the cotton-clad duvet adoring the bed.

Aemond’s right behind you. His fingers move swiftly to undo the buckle of his belt while his gaze stays trained on you. The familiar clink of metal makes your core clench in anticipation as you look up at him, now standing right in front of you. You’re determined to get him as worked up as you are; to balance out the power.

Your hands come up to assist him, grabbing the belt buckle and pulling the leather band out of the belt loop. Your expression is innocent enough, voice overly sweet as you look up at him and ask, “Can I suck you off, baby?”

Your rousing proves successful. Aemond’s jaw tightens, one eyebrow rises as the corner of his mouth slightly twitches to fight off a smirk.

“Why should you have all the fun?”, he questions as he gestures for you to move further up the bed. You comply, allowing Aemond to manoeuvre your position so it is to his liking. He places you on your side, surprising you by lifting one of your legs and laying his head down on your thigh, facing your core.

He revels in your softness for a moment, nuzzling the smooth skin of your inner thigh before pressing trailing kisses up to your centre, teeth biting into the flimsy fabric of your lace thong, moving it to the side.

He wastes no time in devouring you, diving into the apex of your thighs without restrain. The tip of his pointed nose pushes pleasure from your swollen clit out through your entire being, causing you to moan his name and arch your back, pushing yourself further into his face.

He brings a large hand up to grab the flesh of your ass, encouraging your previous movement. His tongue comes out to swipe over your bundle of nerves in confident strokes, and when you let your hips absentmindedly rock against his face, he moans unabashedly into your heat.

Eye-level with his crotch, you watch as his length strains against his trousers in neglect.

Your fingers move skillfully to undo the buttons, releasing his cock with one swift motion before indulging as quickly as your lover had, tongue collecting the pearly proof of arousal from his red tip.

Aemond moans again as you take him into the warm wetness of your mouth, letting your tongue explore the veins of his cock. His hips begin to match yours; both of your bodies moving in a slow rhythm as you give and take pleasure.

His tongue finds your entrance, slightly stretching you out as it searches for that special spot inside you that makes you see stars. Aemond finds it in seconds, erupting a choked moan from you, causing you to vibrate around him, eliciting a moan from him.

Aemond, set on having you peak before him, continues to fuck you with his tongue as the sharp point of his chin bullies your clit. Though the build up is exquisite, it is nothing compared to the peak that he suddenly pulls from you, causing the muscles of your thighs to press against the sides of his head as your walls capture his tongue like a vice.

Any attempts at pleasuring him falter as you're consumed by electric satisfaction, senses fully consumed. You selfishly throw your head back in pleasure, neglecting his aching want as you cry out your own.

Aemond’s face moves away from you as well, looking down to observe your bliss-filled features. He’s breathing heavily, face flustered pink and wetness adoring almost every bit of skin visible.

“Turn over”, he commands breathlessly, manhandling you so that you lay on your stomach before you even have a chance to oblige on your own accord.

He impatiently moves his hands over your pliant body, grabbing your ass in an instruction for you to keep it in the air.

Pleasure is still ebbing inside of you, yet you try your best to yield to his silent command, weak legs folding underneath you so that he can access your backside.

He swipes two fingers through your folds, making your body jerk slightly in overstimulation as they grace your clit before sliding inside you, finding your sweet spot instantaneously yet again.

He’s really learned every single way to give you pleasure; either as an act of love or ownership.

His fingers move slowly, clearly on a mission to steal another peak from you, while you’re still basking in the bliss of the first one. He moves towards the exposed cheek of your ass, teasingly biting the smooth flesh, soothing it with a kiss as you yelp in surprise at the sting.

“You taste so good, baby”, he praises you, “so fucking perfect for me”

You close your eyes and push your flustered face into the duvet on the bed as you feel Aemond’s tongue swipe over your ass, moving closer to the cleft, leaving teeth marks and saliva in his wake.

Your hands fist the bedding next to you as his tongue moves closer to your puckered hole, gently caressing the sensitive skin surrounding it.

His fingers persistently bully the most responsive spot inside you and paired with the slow movements of his tongue, you’re consumed by another forceful orgasm.

You cry out, voice muffled against the bed. Your walls contract rhythmically against Aemonds finger as he works you through the high, moaning loudly behind you. You’re almost certain he’s climaxed too by the sounds of his ragged breath behind you. It shouldn’t surprise you, there’s nothing he loves more than having you at his mercy.

A giggle escapes you, muffled by the duvet your face is still pressed against. You don’t have to lift your head to know that Aemond’s crooking an eyebrow at your unexpected laugh, and before he has a chance to ask, you tell him,

“I think you’ll have to fix my hair again”

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[galactic-magick]

Be Proud: Viktor x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Viktor's newfound fame as the co-founder of Hextech has taken its toll on your insecurities.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions and allusions to body dysmorphia/eating disorders

Author's Note: I starting writing this to play with the idea of how founding Hextech probably gave Jayce and Viktor celebrity status in a way and how that would affect them and people involved with them. It ended up turning into a vent fic about my body image issues as well, to the point I almost didn’t post because it got so personal. But I figured there’s people out there who relate and might find solace in reading this as I did writing it.

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You’re so proud of him. Everything he’s accomplished, everyone he’s helped. He’s living his dream, creating the future, and he’s being listened to and valued by topsiders. This is all you’ve ever wanted for him, and you would never think of standing in his way.

Which is precisely why you’ve never told him how insecure it all makes you feel.

Before Viktor got involved with Hextech, life was so much more predictable. You both could live your days together in peace, never being in the spotlight and rarely interacting with the highest of powers in Piltover. Life was hard, sure, but nothing you couldn’t manage without some tasteful spite and stubbornness. Viktor always knew his background would be a stumbling block for him up here, and you really weren’t much farther ahead, being from a title-less family with half your relatives from the Undercity.

But you’re not used to being around such glamour and poise. As Viktor becomes more involved with the Council and the wealthier areas of Piltover, making Hextech gadgets per their requests and being invited to fancy events, you’re left mourning simpler times. You’ll never get used to people coming up to you on the street while you bring your husband some lunch, or people staring at you during conferences when you’re just there to support him. Everyday citizens want to know and analyze everything about you, simply because you’re married to Piltover’s finest scientist.

You don’t like to bother Viktor with how it’s affected you, especially since he’s so good at handling it all. He’s always been so proud of who he is—where he came from—because he’s had to be. He’s not phased by the new fame as the co-founder of Hextech, and he easily shrugs off any comments people make about his past or his looks. To him, celebrity status is just a slight annoyance that occasionally distracts him from doing his work in the labs. But for you, it’s brought back every insecurity you’ve ever had about yourself.

You’ve stopped joining him as much at dinners and banquets because you fear they’ll judge how you look in a dress. You’ve stopped chiming in to interviews so you don’t say something stupid and embarrass him. You’ve stopped visiting him so much while he’s working so people won’t talk to or see you on the street.

You’ve started picking yourself apart in the mirror again, fussing every morning until you might cry. You compare yourself to the beautiful specimens that surround you, perfect in face, body, and manners. You start wondering if people judge how you speak or how much you eat. You wonder if people gossip about your family origins or your marriage. You wonder if you really, really, tried—if you could look like them. If you could be like them.

Viktor has started to stay back from some events with you lately, claiming Jayce is better at being the face of Hextech anyway. But tonight marks the five year anniversary of the company, and Councilor Medarda insisted there be a grand celebration.

The feast and dance will be held in her personal mansion, with the rest of the council and all the investors invited, as well as several reporters and journalists. Jayce will give an update address on what they’ve been working on, and what they hope to achieve by the bicentennial Progress Day.

This is something you can’t get out of and you know it. You drive yourself crazy trying on every dress in your closet, hoping to find something suitable for the affair. Half of them don’t even fit, which sends you into a further spiral, and the ones that do still don’t look good enough in your reflection.

Now the floor is covered in failed attempts at getting dressed, negative thoughts taking over your mind. Thoughts you know aren’t true, but you can’t stop thinking them.

He’ll be embarrassed to be seen with me.

I’m not good enough to be here.

I should eat less.

If I tried harder I could look like her.

I should check how much I weigh again. What happened to that damn scale?

They only invited me because they have to.

They probably talk about me—

You’re so deep in your head that you jump when you see Viktor leaning against the door frame, eyes full of love and concern.

“Are you alright, darling?”

You look down at yourself, wearing the last dress you had in your closet. It fits perfectly, but that’s part of the problem.

Viktor moves towards you as tears well in your eyes. He wipes them away with his thumbs, smearing some of the makeup you put on earlier.

“Talk to me,” he says.

“No.” you reply, avoiding his gaze.

“No?” he chuckles. “Why not?”

“It’s so stupid,” you sigh. “I thought I recovered from this. I should be able to handle this.”

“Handle what?”

“All this publicity shit!” you finally look at him. “I hate being watched and talked about and judged for what I say and look like all the time. I hate being asked about personal things and nearly passing out because I’m scared to eat in front of people. I hate all these superficial gatherings that are probably just for show-”

“You’re alright, you’re alright,” he cuts you off, dropping his crutch to the floor and wrapping his arms around you. “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been feeling this way? Why didn’t you tell me it was getting bad again?”

You sniffle, “I...I didn’t want to bother you with something that doesn’t seem to bother you. You’re so good at being confident no matter what people say about you.”

“You think it doesn’t bother me?” he questions. “You think it doesn’t hurt me every time I overhear insults about me or my home, let alone when they say it to my face? You think I don’t notice that most of these people wouldn’t blink an eye if I died if it wasn’t for what I can offer them?”

He squeezes you tighter before slightly pulling away to look at your face, “I’m just better at hiding what it does to me, darling. Having a drive to prove myself is not the same as confidence. Now,” he kisses your forehead, “Tell me why you’ve been in here for over an hour and still aren’t ready, hm?”

“Well,” you gesture to the piles on the floor. “Those ones don’t fit. I must’ve gained more weight but I don’t really know for sure because I can’t find the scale. And those ones I just don’t like. And this one does fit, but it’s tight and I’ve never worn something form-fitted to an event before. I don’t want to deal with comments about my stomach sticking out or my arms looking puffy or whether I’m proportioned to their tastes.”

“You truly believe they’ll say those things?”

“I don’t know what they’ll say. That’s what’s so scary.”

The tears return, falling slowly down your cheeks.

“Darling,” Viktor says softly. “No one will ever think or say anything as horrible as what you think and say about yourself. I promise you that.”

You nod, allowing him to soothe you, “I know.”

“I need you to tell me when these thoughts are getting bad. Do you understand? I never want you to go so long feeling this way ever again,” he tilts your chin. “Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good. Now, if you really don’t want to go, I’ll make up an excuse to get us out of it. But…” he slides his hands down your curves, “...it would be quite a shame if I didn’t get to see you wearing this all night.”

“You actually think it looks good?”

“Of course,” his eyes travel down your figure. “You always look perfect to me.”

“But-”

“No buts. Listen to me,” he faces you towards the mirror. “This body has gotten you through so much. I want you to be proud. Most of these people have never known a day of true hardship, but not you. You’re strong and you’re soft and you’re beautiful, and you’re the only one I’ll ever desire.”

You smile, knowing he means every word. You try to see what he sees, remembering every time he’s showered you with praise. You know he’s never once agreed with any of the horrible things you think about yourself. You know he loves everything about you, including how your body compliments his smaller, angular one. He’s never made you feel bad about anything, so why is it still so hard to believe him?

“Thank you, Viktor,” you say, turning to kiss his cheek. “I’ll try to be proud.”

“Good,” he nods. “Now, no more worrying about the scale or falling into old habits, alright? I want you to enjoy yourself tonight.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll try,” you laugh a bit. “You know what happened to it, though, don’t you?”

“Of course. I threw it out months ago,” he smirks. “You think I didn’t notice you checking it every single day?”

“You’re too good to me,” you bend down to pick his crutch up off the floor and hand it to him. “Let me just fix my makeup and we can go.”

“No more crying it off, alright?” he chuckles.

-

Jayce and Mel are waiting for you, welcoming you both to the celebrations. You can already feel the eyes and cameras on you, but you hold your head high, squeezing Viktor’s hand extra tight.

It’s been awhile since you’ve attended an event, but they always seem to go the same. Investors and council members come up to chat, mostly directing their questions towards Jayce. Sometimes they act as if Viktor isn’t even there, which boils your blood to the point you’ve said something on multiple occasions. Viktor has told you many times that he doesn’t mind being behind the scenes, and that Jayce is better at talking anyway, but you can never fully let it go. If people are going to gossip about him and your lives but not actually talk to him, you’ll gladly take the liberty of giving people a piece of your mind. You’d rather focus on lifting him up than dwell on your own self-consciousness, anyway.

One thing is different this time though—being that Viktor is a lot more handsy tonight than usual. He’s not normally one for public displays of affection, sticking to hand-holding and a few reassuring touches here and there. But tonight he can’t keep his hands off you.

It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, whether it be listening to the conversations, answering questions, or participating in the feast and drinks. He always has a hand on your waist or your thigh, gliding to your hips and stomach every so often. It seems mindless, as if he does this every time you’re out together, but you know he’s putting in a special effort to make you feel good.

And damn is it working.

You feel more at peace than you ever have since entering the public eye, proud of who you are and who you’re with. Who cares if people are whispering about their opinions on the Zaunite inventor? Who cares if there’s pictures of you in tomorrow’s tabloids with unflattering angles? Maybe all that matters is you’re having fun with your husband, and he’s making you feel oh so beautiful.

The night goes on for hours, attendees fizzling out until there’s only a handful left. You convince Viktor to dance with you before you leave, leaning against you and swaying simply. You wrap your arms around his neck, wiggling your fingers into his hair. He looks at you with such admiration, such devotion.

How could you ever doubt yourself under the gaze of those eyes?

“You lovebugs ready to head out?” Jayce approaches you both. “Viktor and I have a meeting with Heimerdinger in the morning.”

“Ah, yes, we do,” he briefly looks away from you. “But...perhaps we could push it until the afternoon?”

Jayce rolls his eyes and chuckles, “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you guys are in for a long night. Have fun.”

He waves and walks away, and you burst out laughing.

“Is it really that obvious?” Viktor jokes, returning his full attention to you.

“Viktor, darling, you’ve been all over me since we got here. I’d say the entire city knows how bad you want me tonight.”

“Maybe I want them to know,” he grins, sliding a hand up your dress and squeezing your thigh.

“Viktor!” you gasp, playfully slapping his hand away.

“Alright, I suppose we can go home first,” he pivots around, moving towards the door and extending his arm to you, “Shall we?”

You nod, quickly returning to his side.

Jayce was right, it’s going to be a long, lovely night.

[p0orbaby]

We No Speak Italiano

summary: you’ll never miss a day of Duolingo again

warnings: are language barriers and miscommunication warnings?

a/n: based on this request ! also thank you to @onsomenewsht for inflating my ego and helping navigate italian !

word count: 2.1k

-

Alexia looks at you like you’ve just dropped the biggest bombshell in the history of bombshells. Her eyes are wide, mouth slightly agape, and she’s got that look, like she’s trying to figure out how to assemble a piece of IKEA furniture with no instructions and half the screws missing.

“Estoy embarazada,” you say again, because you’re pretty sure that’s the right way to tell her you’re mortified after spilling your entire glass of wine on her brand-new sofa.

Your high school Spanish teacher would be so proud.

But instead of the expected response, maybe a nervous laugh or string of expletives, Alexia gasps, and her hands fly to her mouth like she’s just heard the Virgin Mary is back for round two. Her eyes flick down to your stomach and back up to your face. The calculation going on behind her eyes is something like 2 + 2 = 5, but you have no idea why.

“I… Oh my God,” she says, her voice all wobbly, like she’s about to cry. “I didn’t… I mean, this is… Are you okay?” She’s speaking in slow, deliberate Spanish now, like you’re suddenly a toddler and not a grown-ass woman who just spilled wine.

You blink at her. “Sí?”

“Madre mía”

-

It starts with a breakfast that makes no sense.

You wake up to the smell of something cooking in the kitchen, which is odd because Alexia barely knows how to operate a toaster without supervision. You stumble out of bed, groggy, and follow the scent of food.

What you find in the kitchen is nothing short of alarming: Alexia, apron-clad and concentrating so hard that she’s actually sticking her tongue out a little, is stirring something in a pot while a blender whirs ominously next to her.

“Buenos días,” she sings out when she notices you standing in the doorway. She’s all smiles, too bright for this early in the morning, and you immediately get suspicious.

“What’s going on?” you ask, eyes narrowing as you take in the sight of an overfull fruit bowl, a plate stacked with multigrain toast, and what appears to be an entire carton of eggs scrambled and ready to be eaten.

“Sit, sit,” she insists, pulling out a chair for you like you’ve suddenly developed a bad back and need assistance. “I made breakfast”

“You… made breakfast,” you repeat, eyeing the smoothie she pours into a glass and slides over to you. It’s an unsettling green color, like pond scum, and you’re not sure it’s fit for human consumption.

“Sí. You need to start your day with lots of nutrients.” She’s practically bouncing on her toes, like a Labrador eager to please.

You blink at the smoothie, then back at her. “Since when did you learn how to use the Nutribullet?”

She doesn’t answer directly, just gives you an encouraging smile that feels a little too close to a grimace. “Drink up. It’s good for you”

You take a tentative sip, and it’s like drinking liquid grass mixed with what you can only hope is kale. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“No!” She’s almost offended, but there’s a hint of nervousness in her voice that you can’t quite place. “It’s full of vitamins. Good for… energy”

You stare at her, but she just stares back, eyes wide and almost… expectant.

“Okay,” you say slowly, deciding to let this weirdness slide, for now. Maybe she’s on a trendy new health kick. Or maybe it’s an early birthday surprise gone wrong. Either way, you down the smoothie in a few brave gulps, trying not to think about the fact that it tastes like lawn clippings.

Alexia beams at you when you finish, like you’ve just accomplished something monumental. “Bien, bien. Now, sit tight. I’ll get the rest”

She practically skips back to the stove, where she starts piling eggs and toast onto a plate. You don’t even bother asking why she’s suddenly turned into Martha Stewart; you’re too busy wondering if you’ve somehow walked into a parallel universe.

It’s only later, after you’ve forced down an absurd amount of scrambled eggs, that she starts talking about how “important it is to stay healthy” and how she’s “going to take care of everything from now on,” which sounds sweet but also vaguely threatening.

You brush it off, chalking it up to some kind of weird phase. After all, everyone gets weird sometimes, right?

-

By day two, you’re starting to suspect that something is seriously wrong.

It begins with a confrontation over laundry, specifically, the fact that you’re not allowed to do any. At all.

“I’ve got it,” Alexia says, practically wrestling the basket out of your hands when you attempt to head for the washing machine.

You try to grab it back, but she holds it over her head like some ridiculous game of keep-away. “What is with you?”

“You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things,” she says, so earnestly it makes your brain short-circuit for a second.

“It’s a basket of clothes,” you argue, “not a sack of bricks. And I lift heavier things at the gym every day”

She shakes her head, not budging. “No. Let me do it. Just relax”

You gape at her, watching as she carries the laundry to the washing machine like it’s a ticking time bomb. She’s being weirdly gentle, placing the clothes in like they might shatter if she drops them too hard.

Then there’s the vitamin situation. You’re sitting on the freshly cleaned sofa, flipping through channels, when Alexia plops down beside you with a clatter of bottles and packages.

“Take these,” she says, handing you an array of supplements that looks like it belongs on the shelf of a pharmacy. There are multivitamins, folic acid, omega-3s, and some other pill you can’t even pronounce.

“What is this?” You hold up the folic acid like it’s a foreign object. “I’m not trying to hatch an egg here”

“Just take them,” she insists, pushing the bottles toward you. “They’re good for you”

“I’m pretty sure the only thing these are good for is draining my will to live,” you mutter, but she gives you that look, the one that’s all big hazel eyes and soft smiles, and you end up taking them just to get her to stop hovering.

When you try to go for a run that afternoon, she practically tackles you at the door.

“Maybe you should rest,” she suggests, like she’s trying to steer a toddler away from a busy street. “You know, take it easy for a bit”

“Take it easy?” You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not 80. And since when do you care about rest days? You’re usually the one dragging me to the gym at 6 AM”

She opens her mouth, closes it, then opens it again like a fish gasping for air. “It’s important to be careful”

“Careful of what, exactly?”

She hesitates, and you catch a flicker of something in her expression, nervousness, maybe? Fear? Whatever it is, it’s weirding you out. “Just… you know, careful”

You’re about to argue, but she gives you a kiss on the forehead, all soft and sweet, and you end up staying in just to avoid making things even more bizarre.

-

By day three, you’re done. Absolutely, 100% done.

It starts with the breakfast smoothies, again. This time, it’s a vibrant pink concoction that tastes like liquid chalk mixed with berries, and you’re pretty sure it’s the same smoothie you saw in a TV ad for pregnancy supplements once.

When Alexia starts lecturing you on the importance of hydration, while handing you a liter of water with electrolytes, you decide it’s time to get to the bottom of this.

“Alexia,” you say, setting the water down with a definitive thud, “we need to talk”

She glances at you, clearly nervous, and you know you’ve hit the jackpot. “About what?”

“About why you’re acting like I’m a fragile little baby bird that needs to be protected from all the big, scary things in life,” you reply, crossing your arms.

Her face flushes, and she avoids your gaze, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I just-, I want to take care of you”

“I appreciate that,” you say, softening just a little, “but you’ve gone full-on helicopter mode. And it’s freaking me out”

She looks at you for a long moment, then sighs like she’s been carrying the weight of the world.

“You didn’t tell me,” she says, voice soft like she’s whispering state secrets. “How long? I mean… when did you find out?”

You stare at her, a mental Rolodex flipping through every interaction you’ve had over the last few days, searching for the moment when you apparently lost your mind. “Find out what?”

“That you’re…” She trails off, wide-eyed, and then whispers, like she’s on a soap opera, “Pregnant”

There’s a beat of silence. And then another one. You feel like someone just turned off the power in your brain. You’re pregnant? No, no, no. Last you checked, you were just really bad at pouring wine.

“Wait,” you finally say, holding up a hand to stop her from offering you yet another pillow or maybe a foot rub. “Pregnant?”

Alexia’s eyebrows are practically in her hairline. “You said you’re embarazada”

Oh. Oh. Oh no.

“Alexia,” you say slowly, enunciating like you’re the one explaining the IKEA instructions now. “I said I’m embarrassed. Not pregnant. Embarrassed. Mortified. Humiliated because I thought I ruined your sofa with a ten-euro bottle of red”

She looks like she’s buffering, trying to load what you just said. “Embarazada… means pregnant, in Spanish”

Ah, the joys of faux amis, false friends, words that sound like they should mean the same thing but are actually waiting to sabotage you like linguistic landmines. Your high school Spanish teacher can take a hike.

You wipe away a tear, trying to catch your breath. “Alexia… I told you I was embarrassed. Imbarazzato doesn’t mean pregnant in Italian, it means mortified. Humiliated. Just how I felt when I spilled that wine and thought I ruined your furniture”

“Wait,” Alexia says, her brow furrowing in that cute, confused way you’d normally find adorable if she weren’t in the middle of thinking you’re harbouring a tiny human in your uterus. “So you’re not…?”

“No!” You laugh, a little hysterically because, seriously, how did you get here? “I’m not pregnant. We’re both women. How would that even work? I mean, unless there’s something about human biology I missed in school, I’m pretty sure that’s not in the cards for us”

Her eyes widen as the realisation hits, and then she groans, burying her face in her hands. “Dios mío, I’m such an idiot”

You’re still laughing, but you manage to pat her knee reassuringly. “An adorable idiot, but yeah, kind of”

“Well, you did say ‘embarazada,’” she points out. “How was I supposed to know you just meant you were embarrassed?”

You shrug. “Maybe when I didn’t start eating pickles and ice cream? Or asking for your jersey for when the baby arrives?”

“Touché.” She’s still grinning, that big, beautiful smile that makes you forgive her for thinking you were about to drop a baby bomb on her. “So, you’re just embarrassed”

“Yes. Very. And I’m also very much not pregnant. I’m sorry for confusing you”

She sighs, exaggerated like she’s relieved, and you both start laughing again, the awkward tension from the past few days melting away. But there’s still a mischievous glint in her eye, one that makes you a little wary.

“What?” you ask, knowing full well you’re about to regret it.

“Well, since you’re not pregnant,” she says slowly, leaning closer with that flirty smirk you love and hate in equal measure, “how about we do something about that embarrassment?”

She wiggles her eyebrows, and you roll your eyes. “Oh, so now that I’m not a fragile incubator, you’re all over me?”

“Exactamente,” she says, pulling you into her lap with surprising ease, even for someone who regularly benches more than your body weight. “Besides, I have to make sure you’re really not pregnant”

“Alexia,” you say, trying to sound stern but failing miserably when she starts nuzzling your neck, “that’s not how this works, remember?”

She grins against your skin, pressing a teasing kiss to your collarbone. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You push her back just enough to meet her eyes, raising an eyebrow. “But if you want to keep treating me like a queen, I’m not going to complain”

“Deal,” she says, her voice softening, her hand resting on your cheek. “But next time you’re embarrassed, can you please just say it in Italian, or English?”

You laugh, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Sure, but only if you promise not to freak out the next time I spill something”

“No promises,” she murmurs, pulling you closer, “but I’ll try”

[jackiepackiee]

Can I request for a Telemachus x fem reader fluff? Like after the Ithaca saga they just cuddle and rest together after the fight :))

an- just a short one shot, request if yall want anymore!

“My love?” The same gentle voice you’ve heard time and time before called out. Out in the hall, echoing from the tall ceilings and pillars. Beating the breeze of the cold night.

Followed by a knock at your bedroom door the most tame thing you’d heard all night.

Only minutes before all you had been able to hear were blood curdling screams that ripped through throats so hard they took away their ability to speak. Cries of pain and fear from men who terrorized the palace.

Then silence.

Drops of blood so loud they could be heard as it poured from dead men’s wounds onto the still stone.

For minutes you had no idea who was dying. Who would be able to recognize their lovers scream of death when all you’ve heard is sweet nothings? You really didn’t have any idea if Telemachus was returned from his diplomatic mission.

But now, he was back.

You jumped out from under your blanket and raced to the door, taking away the barricades of chairs you put up when you first heard the fighting and swinging it open.

Telemachus stood there, arms at his side as he waited patiently.

He looked… accomplished.

Eyes filled with an undeniable relief. Never as tense as he once was around the bastards who overtook his home.

Sure, he was tired. Covered in the blood of enemies slain, sword no longer on his person. One could only imagine what that weapon had done.

It was simply him, standing there after completing something as heroic as protecting his family.

You couldn’t help but choke on your words. “Are you hurt?” Finally spilled from your lips. You pulled yourself back, unable to embrace him in a hug as you wished to. Not wanting to hurt him anymore if he was injured, seeing the red across his body.

All he did was shake his head, chest deflating from its position as a sigh left his lips.

“It’s over, I’m okay.” Before he could assure you anymore, you threw your arms around his shoulders.

He was stiff at first, feeling the blood soak from his clothes to clean skin. But soon he hugged you back, hands grabbing your waist and holding you in his chest. Fingers wrapping around your smooth dress with a gentle possession.

“My father is back.” He whispered into your hair, words foreign on his tongue.

As quickly as he spoke you pulled back, eyes meeting his with a strange glow. “That’s… Tele that’s wonderful!”

Unable to contain either of your smiles, he kissed your forehead. “I’ll have you meet him soon. After tonight.” Brushing your cheek with his thumb, he pulled away from you.

When he pulled away you reached back.

“It’s okay, I just need to change.” He huffed, a slight laugh at your behavior.

However his laugh was quickly snuffed out as you pulled him by his wrist into your room. Walking over to the basket of clothes you had and pulling out one of his chitons he had left.

A smile reached his eyes, but not his mouth. Not able to recognize the feeling of comfort he never had.

He didn’t blush as he usually did when you touched him. Even as your gentle fingers moved his clothes down his shoulders and off his body, he didn’t flinch. Eyes watching your every movement as you worked to remove the tattered fabric. Skin ghosting over his with such care.

Not until you put on his fresh new clothes did he move. He pulled you closer, pressing his lips against yours.

Not shyly, or with the passion he sometimes gave.

No, only a kiss that belonged in the moment. Comforting to prove that this was actually real.

“You must be exhausted.” You spoke when he pulled away, brushing his hair out of his face. Not at all startled by his kiss.

Without room protest, you pulled him to lay together in bed. Blankets resting over your hips as he tugged them over the two of you.

He hesitated before letting his neck let go of its tension and head rest against your pillow. Arms reaching to rest on your hips.

“My love, you deserve an explanation.” His thumb ran circles on your skin.

“No.” You retorted. “I don’t wanna know, not right now. Now is for us.” Nodding, you nuzzled into his chest and took in his warmth.

He tensed, but his body couldn’t deny the lovely feeling of having you close.

“Aren’t you scared of me?” He whispered, not able to meet your eyes.

“Scared?” You questioned. “You saved everyone here from those men.” You kissed his jaw before letting your head rest fully in his chest.

Arms wrapping around his body, feeling his muscles relax and his heartbeat moved in a steady rhythm.

He let his face rest against your head, nuzzling his cheek into you as his grip became more confident in holding you.

“For you? I’d do it 1000 times over.”

[satsugacafe]

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬 | (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 4)

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: If it's not a bother for you, can you please write types of simp they are for rojuro, kenpachi, kensei, sajin and iba? Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Zaraki Kenpachi, Unohana Retsu, Ichimaru Gin, Muguruma Kensei, Ulquiorra Cifer

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: Anon, I’m so sorry that I didn’t write for most of the characters you requested. Majorly because I don’t write for them. However, I didn’t want to turn down your request and decided to answer for Zenpachi and Kensei while adding in extras. I tried my hand with Kensei for the first time even though I’m uninterested in writing for him.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Zaraki Kenpachi — Aggressively Affectionate Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა Firstly, he’s fiercely protective of you, even though he knows you have strength and skills and all that, he still keeps an eye on you during battles, ensuring no harm comes your way. And god help those who do harm you.

˚₊‧꒰ა We all know he has his roughness, but just for you, he’ll grow a little softer. Ruffling your hair, bumping your shoulders, pulling you onto his lap or letting you piggyback ride across Seireitei or wherever he goes (because he gets lost). Aware of when you’re stressed or tired and forces—scolds—you to take it ease. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. Take a rest, I’ll handle things here.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You’re his favourite sparring partner from now on. Whether you have the strength to go against him, he’s sparring with you. Consider it his way of indirectly training you for tough opponents because once you can handle him, you’re good to go.

˚₊‧꒰ა His hands roam and wander and they do not apologise. Walking through the barracks and suddenly feeling a slap to your ass, standing beside him or bending over and randomly feeling his hands on your hips, out of nowhere, a giant, towering six feet figure drapes over you, or a bone-crushing hug that turns you into jelly. Yup! Expect it.

˚₊‧꒰ა Your number one hype man, or maybe Yachiru fights him for that position. But he’s your hype man and makes sure that his division also hypes you up anytime you’re fighting or celebrating a victory or accomplishment.

˚₊‧꒰ა Constantly makes bets with you to see who can kill more Hollows or beat up (in his case, kill) bad guys. The winner…gets something only he could think of giving. I’ll let you all decide.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Say that again, and you’ll regret it. Do you wanna die?” Yes, he threatens everyone and anyone because they dare ill-speak about you?! Never around or not around him. Would tell you to spar with him so you can feel better. Hit him as many times as you want since he’ll tank every hit.

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s fiercely loyal, never letting anyone mutter a single word about you. Which brings about his bluntness when it comes to letting you know how he feels. “I don’t like when you’re upset. Tell me who did this?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Doesn’t like when people interrupt your time with him. “Shoo. Can’t you see we’re busy?” Which leads to his possessiveness, always making sure others know that you’re his. “They’re with me, got a problem with that?!”

Unohana — Gentle-Natured Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა “Have you eaten today? You need to keep your strength up.” Yeah, for all of you who don’t like to eat (proper food), you’re gonna have her on your case when she learns you haven’t been taking care of yourself properly. (don’t think anyone wouldn’t mind though)

˚₊‧꒰ა Super supportive and always there to lend an ear anytime you need something to just listen to or give advice. Words of encouragement will be returned whether you ask for them or not, she will always boost your confidence. “You have so much potential. Never doubt yourself.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Tea dates, which probably start off with cooking dates. I can see her inviting you over to her division to spend time making your favourite meals together before moving to her quarters for a more private setting where you can enjoy your meal and some tea.

˚₊‧꒰ა I really don’t believe anyone is that foolish enough to harm you when she’s protecting you. Like everyone knows her reputation back then, and it hasn’t vanished, so you are well protected. Even if she doesn’t need to revert to that old version of her, her legendary skills in Kido are enough to keep you safe.

˚₊‧꒰ა Randomly pops up out of nowhere when you’re minding your business. All you would suddenly hear is her voice behind you, calling your name sweetly, or suddenly feel her arms sliding around your waist. It gives you quite a scare no matter how many times she reminds you that it’s all in good spirit.

˚₊‧꒰ა She had a habit of touching you as a gesture of reassurance, more for her sake than yours. A silent reminder that you’re real, you’re safe and alive, you’re still here with her. She sees you as her haven, her peace of mind and source of all things good. A light among all her transgressions in her past. Something good in her life.

˚₊‧꒰ა On that note of her being touchy, she does enjoy it when you cuddle her. Even if it’s just leaning into her side and wrapping your arms around her or sleeping beside her—she loves it. A small kiss to your forehead or head while she holds you closely and whispers, “You’re my everything,” or “You bring me much joy.”

˚₊‧꒰ა She loves to call you affectionate nicknames and terms of endearment, which makes your heart race when you look at you so sweetly and softly. “My dear,” “My heart,” “My love,” “My stars.” She’s a romantic one as well, in her own way of course. Surprising you with unexpected acts of kindness, a massage, a hot bath, or a spa day.

Ichimaru Gin — Devoted Simp (obviously)

˚₊‧꒰ა He loves to keep you on your toes, making you flustered or leaving you blushing, when often teasing you in a light-hearted manner. Sometimes, he likes to appear out of nowhere, always keeping an eye on you. “Miss me? I was just around the corner. You look so cute when flustered, you know that?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Fiercely protective and will never let anyone harm you while he’s around or not around. “Touch them, and you’ll regret it.” During any situation that becomes tense, and he notices your discomfort, he’ll use his charming words to defuse the tension. “No need to worry, everything’s under control.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Has a soft spot for seeing you happy and goes out of his way to make you smile. Using the moment to call you affectionate nicknames, often in a teasing yet endearing tone. “Hey, sunshine, come here for a second,” or “Looking lovely to today, cutie.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You don’t have to worry about Gin being honest about his feelings or expressing his thoughts, even if they’re difficult to express. “I care about you more than you know. You’re my everything.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Loves when it’s just you and him together amidst the moments of chaos where he can let his hair down and be at ease. He is protective of those cherished times between you two. Doesn’t appreciate when someone encroaches or attempts to drag you off. “I love moments like this. When it’s just us. You and I.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s very attentive to your needs and wants while listening to your troubles or ambitions. He’ll remember that you only drink beverages of a certain colour or sit on a certain side of the room—as silly or odd as your preferences are, he respects them. As for your goals, he’s there to support you. “I believe in you, and I’m here to support you at all times.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His form of physical affection is as subtle and gentle as the wind. A gentle brush of his hand against your cheek, a kiss to the back of your hand, a gentle hug before he pulls you onto the futon to cuddle and peppers your face in soft kisses, landing the last one on your forehead.

Muguruma Kensei — Tough and Dedicated Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა He naturally has a tough exterior, often giving you a hard time, but it would be clear that he cares deeply about you. His teasing would be a way of showing affection to break the ice in case you felt like he was being a bit too tough on you.

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite his gruff exterior, he’s not immune to your teasing. If you call him out on being soft for you, he’ll scowl, but the faint pink on his ears gives him away. “Tch. Soft? You’re seeing things.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He tries not to let his affection affect his leadership, but it’s clear he values your opinion above others. If someone questions it, his response is simple: “Their insight’s solid. Got a problem with that?” But if that person doesn’t know to back off, he is fiercely protective, even if there’s no real danger. If someone so much as raises their voice at you, he’s immediately in their face.

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s awkward with words when expressing how he feels, so he opts to show his care through actions—like fixing something for you or standing watch during late-night shifts. “What? You needed help, and I had time. No big deal.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Though he tries to act cool, his flustered moments give him away. If you catch him staring, he’ll clear his throat and mutter something like, “You’ve got something on your face—never mind.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Kensei always finds himself drawn to your presence, his usually stern expression softening whenever you're around. “Oi, don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking into my thoughts again.” On rare, quiet nights, he lets himself be honest. “You make all this crap easier to deal with, y’know? Don’t go running off, yeah?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s surprisingly attentive, remembering small details about you that most wouldn’t. If you casually mention liking a certain snack, it’ll mysteriously appear in the barracks the next day. “Don’t overthink it, yeah? It’s not a big deal.”

Ulquiorra Cifer — Stoic Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა “Why do you insist on holding my hand?” Struggles to understand physical affection and your need for it. To him, it’s confusing and foreign, though, he slowly eases into the act bit by bit.

˚₊‧꒰ა Incredibly observant and always noticing the smallest details about you and remembering them. “You prefer you tea without sugar, correct?” or “You enjoy a warm blanket during the rain.” Even when your interests might be odd to him, once he understands that it brings you comfort, he strives to achieve it.

˚₊‧꒰ა His form of affection of performed through acts of service. Perhaps something of yours finished or broke. He will repair it or retrieve a new and better version for you, in the same colour with greater efficiency, so it doesn’t crash out on you. “Your vase was broken, so I took the liberty of repairing it.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Quiet moments with you are heavily appreciated—often sitting together in comfortable silence or engaging in deep, meaningful conversations. “Your presence is…calming. I enjoy your company.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s so straightforward with his feelings, never beating around the bush to leave you second-guessing what he was attempting to say. “I care about you. That is the truth and should anyone harm or take you away from me, they will suffer.” Protective and honesty as well.

˚₊‧꒰ა Enjoy teaching you about the Hollow world and his experiences, finding satisfaction in sharing his knowledge with you. Sometimes he would talk about his time before becoming an Arrancar and the room might grow silent as you feel sorry for his loneliness or the fights he got involved in back then.

˚₊‧꒰ა Has a habit of silently watching over you. At first, it came off as stalkerish since he was always lurking behind you, five paces silently. It was unnerving, but you eventually grew accustomed to his silence as he followed you around for your safety since other Espada might let their superiority go to their head and attempt to harm you.

©satsugacafé 2025: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[melancholyhigh]

RECKLESS.

ft. rookie!leon x lieutenant!reader

synopsis. after leon was careless on a mission, you ask him to pay you a visit to your office.

content. 3.0k words. smut. age gap, power imbalance, delulu leon, subby leon, masturbation, praise kink, office sex, handjob, blowjob, edging, dacryphilia.

note. mb guys, i'll post dilf leon a little later. sub leon is my favourite leon.

masterlist. i love feedback! :3

Tough love. That’s what Leon liked to call it when you’re scolding him. He’s got sympathetic looks from his coworkers each time you drag him away to chastise him, but he doesn’t take it to heart — you want the best for him.

They always say how he ‘gets it worse,’ and they don’t understand how he takes it. But it’s different when you reprimand him in comparison to his colleagues. You pull him aside to lecture him, never in the presence of others. It’s so much more intimate. Unlike his fellow officers, where you nearly publicly humiliate them, he gets special treatment.

Leon likes to think he’s your favourite. He knows he’s your favourite.

When he was the newest recruit, he thought nothing of your ways. You probably did it to all the rookies, but after a few weeks in, he realised you only ever did it to him. 

At first, you thought Leon was just like the others. He was inexperienced and expected much more than this field could accomplish. 

You were strict, that was much. The older officers knew of your demeanour when they had first been there. You weren’t cruel to rookies. They’re new officers. It’s their first time at the department, and you’ve been here longer than you’d like to admit. You couldn’t be too harsh on them, but you weren’t the gentle parenting kind either.

Something about Leon ticked you off, though. You didn’t know what exactly did. When he messed up, you had to tell him off, and, at first, it was worse than what you’d usually say to the other recruits. You felt that he should’ve known better. You weren’t ever this particular with rookies, and you’re shocked that Leon hasn’t even transferred yet. You felt guilty to the point you apologised to him.

So when you pull him aside from the others, they expect you to be worse than you usually are, sparing Leon from the embarrassment, and to an extent, you are. In reality, you’re softer to him. Even if it’s not noticeable — you can tell. You do it so your reputation stays intact. You’re mortified by how gentle you are to him, contradicting your usual attitude towards the other older officers. It’s obvious enough that Chris notices. 

Even though you are rough to Leon, sometimes you’re not as intimidating. Other times when he’s been playing the ass, you’re worse than usual.

When he forgets his papers, you’re easy on him. He’s hard-working, people forget. A slap on the wrist. If anyone else forgets them? You’re on their ass immediately. It’s part of the job. How can one be so forgetful?

You try to reason with yourself that Leon’s more responsible than the others. And you’re not wrong. But you feel uneasy knowing there is an underlying reason why you treat him differently.

He acts thoughtless during patrols? You’re oddly silent, more silent than usual, and it scares the entire department. They usually chalk it up to a patrol gone seriously awry, and it’s not entirely wrong to assume that. But you’re less of a threat when shit blows up in your face to uncontrollable forces rather than when things do not go as smoothly because of an avoidable mishap.

You’re residing in your office right now. If you were to face Kennedy right now, you’d do something you’d regret. He almost botched the arrest. You and a few officers patrolled an area known for its high crime rate where a recent robbery occurred at a nearby convenience store, and you and your team were investigating the area. 

During a conversation with the store’s owners, your squad found the suspect armed with a handgun. As you’re about to take action, just your luck, when Leon S. Kennedy handled the situation. He disobeyed your orders, whether verbally or not, when he dealt with the thief. You were appalled because he knew better than that. Maybe it was adrenaline or stupidity, but the situation could’ve gone south.

Back at the department, you ventured to your office, ignoring Kennedy in the guise of paperwork. You tried to do paperwork, but the image of Leon with a bullet wound, unable to be the officer he used to be or even dead, continues to flash in your mind. 

Was it normal to have such a sense of despair at the thought of losing a coworker? Not to this extent. For Christ's sake, he had a bulletproof vest on. Why were you even thinking about that? You never thought about your other colleagues in such a manner. 

Did you find him attractive? Of course, you had eyes — he was as cute as a button. Not that you’d admit that. Did you like Kennedy more than you lead on? Well, shit. You’re starting to overthink everything. You knew how fond he was of you, like a puppy, following you and obeying your every command. You probably liked that too much.

Sighing, you lean back on the soft cushioning of your office chair, the leather squeaking under your weight. You had to do something about this revelation, don’t you?

–-

Leon has been anticipating visiting your office once again. He’s disappointed with the silent treatment he’s been receiving from you lately. You had brushed him off initially, giving him a stern, “Don’t pull that shit again, Kennedy,” before dismissing him entirely. 

He wasn’t reckless on purpose to hear you reprimanding him. Not that he likes it or anything, but he prefers you being angry to blatantly disregarding him. He wished you’d do something. Punish him for all he cares.

Leon furiously clicks his pen, unable to focus on his papers. He wishes you’d pay attention to him. He reminisces on the time you shared at the bar. It seems to be on his mind more often lately. 

After a tough case, some officers decided to head to a bar and invited him to tag along. He was relatively new, so he took the opportunity while he could. The others relentlessly begged for you to join them — to loosen up. You weren’t keen on the idea at first but you eventually gave in. You clearly adored your squad, and it wasn’t as subtle as you thought.

Leon tried not to get too drunk. He did not want to embarrass himself in front of others, limiting his alcohol intake. You seem not too fond of getting drunk, bourbon in your hand, watered down by the ice. 

You were sat next to him, making quips and chuckling at inside jokes that the older cops say. He felt excluded, quietly sipping on his drink as he listened quietly. After another round, they started to filter out, leaving essentially you and him alone. There were others, but they were too intoxicated, waiting for their spouse to pick them up.

The buzz picks up its pace the longer he’s in the bar. He’s minding his business, and you’re with him. He takes a peek at you. You’re sat there with a look of contemplation. After a few moments, your voice slices through the noise that fills the packed room.

“Hey, Leon,” you said, turning to him and resting a hand on his shoulder. It was the only time he heard you call him by his first name, granted he only saw you at the department. He had looked at you, brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry for being too hard on you. I know it’s probably a lot, but I do it ‘cause I care, ya know? I’ll ease up on ya.”

His cold lieutenant, who he hadn’t heard speak an entire sentence since you joined them for drinks, was talking to him, not just that, apologising to him. Your palm on his shoulder feels warm, giving him a reassuring squeeze before you drop your hand.

“It’s fine. You’re just doin’ your job, Lt.” His face gets redder at the prospect of you caring about him. God, you were so close, a rare smile blooming on your pretty lips. He’s quivering like a leaf and hopes you think it’s the alcohol. 

“I’m gonna head home. Need a drive?” You had finished your drink, standing up and putting on your jacket.

He shook his head, “No, I’ll be okay.”

He regrets not accepting the offer. He ended up taking a cab home, wondering how it’d play out if he had agreed to let you carry him home instead.

The same night, at home, he remembers your hand on his shoulder and the words you had said to him. He felt fuzzy, and he was sure he was mostly sober. He needed a cold shower, leading him to think not-so-professional thoughts about you, arousal blocking his senses.

Up against the cool bathroom wall, he tugs on his aching dick, wishing it was your hand instead, teasing him. He thought about what you’d do to him, making him cry as you whispered how much of a good boy he was, just like you’d tell him he did a good job after a tough assignment.

He came, his fingers coated in his sticky seeds, grimacing at the sight. He had taken an extra cold shower, pondering if he regretted climaxing to the thought of his boss.

He didn’t.

–-

Leon groans in annoyance, scratching off another word he spelt wrong. He wonders if you still remember the night at the bar. It wasn’t anything remarkable, but it solidified the burning fact that you actively care for him.

Leaning back on his chair, he decides to take a quick break. However, it was cut short as you entered the room. Your eyes are on him, and he immediately begins to work on his papers. He didn’t need another reason for you to disregard him.

“Kennedy, meet me in my office. Now,” you say. Your voice is cold, and you’re glaring at him. The officers in the room are giving him a look filled with pity. He doesn’t care, preferring your attention over their sympathy. It’s the longest sentence you’ve said to him since you reached the department.

As you walk to your office, Leon follows like an obedient puppy. He hears the gossip of his coworkers behind him once they think he’s out of shot. He ignores their words and trails behind you, anticipation filling his system as well as another emotion that only you can make him feel.

Once in your office, Leon closes the door behind him with shaky hands. He’s trying his best not to smile, biting his lip. You didn’t forget about him.

“Lock the door,” you sighed. Your command confuses Leon, but he obliges, twisting the lock on the door. You’re leaning up against your wooden desk, arms crossed. You refused to look at him, but your acknowledgement of him was enough. He’ll take what he can get.

“Come closer,” you beckon, your voice low as you look at him. He nervously walks closer to you, almost tripping over his own feet. He prays you didn’t see that. Leon coughs awkwardly, a few inches away from you, leaving enough room for Jesus.

“You know why I brought you in here, officer?” You questioned, voice laced with authority. Leon is stunned at your response. Usually, you get it over within a few minutes, leaving him to finish his papers with a dazed smile, not entertaining pointless questions.

“U– uh, because I disobeyed your orders?” Staring at the floor, he doesn’t want to see your reaction. He really fucked up this time if you’re dragging it out like this.

A smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. Humming softly, you reply, “Yes. You’re a smart boy, Leon. Shouldn’t you know better?” 

“Yes. I’m sorry, lieutenant,” he answers quickly, straightening his posture. Fuck, you’re calling him by his first name all of a sudden.

“I should punish you,” You mention, catching him off guard. He stares at you with doe eyes, pink lips parted as if he didn’t hear you correctly. The sentence wasn’t inherently wrong, but the tone you said made his body heat up.

You grab his belt, softly tugging him closer to you. He stumbles, pressing himself against your warm body, lips brushing against yours. He’s stunned, unable to form a coherent thought, watching you grin at the sight of him.

“I think you’d like that too much,” you chuckle, admiring how wrecked Leon was. You didn’t even get to the fun part yet. You bump noses together as you get nearer to his face.

“Is this okay, darlin’?”

“God, yes, please.”

You capture his lips softly with your own, and he whimpers quietly. Your lips move in sync with his. It’s slow and soft, and you’re testing the waters with him. If he knew he’d be making out with you in your office, he’d buy some mints. His hands move to grip your waist, squeezing eagerly to get more of you.

You break away, heavily breathing as you try to catch your breath. Leon’s chest flushed to yours, and his lips slick with your combined spit. He subtly grinds his bulge against your thigh, eyes snapped shut. The kiss was so much better than he imagined. He still can’t fathom that this is real, that you’re real.

“Can I touch you, pretty boy?” you ask, fidgeting with his belt buckle. His head reels. You think he’s pretty? He’s heard others say it but thought nothing of it. It’s different when it comes to you. 

He nods mindlessly, “Yeah, t– touch me.”

Slowly, you unbuckle his pants, watching it fall to the ground. He’s in his boxers, precum darkening the light-coloured fabric. You run your fingers along his prominent erection through the cloth. A soft moan escapes Leon as you tease the tip.

He watches with hooded eyes as you trail your hand from his tummy to the waistline of his boxers, tugging them down. His cock is fully erect, flushed pink to the head and dribbling precum down his shaft. Wrapping your digits around his throbbing dick, you slowly stroke him, kissing his neck and nipping the sensitive flesh.

You use the excess precum dribbling down his cock as a lubricant, picking up your pace. Leon’s desperate moans fill the room, as well as the lewd noise of you jerking his aching cock. Your other hand wraps around his taut waist, bringing him closer to you. You whisper filthy words and praises into his ear, your pace on his member insistent. 

When he’s about to climax, you stop your movement, cruelly laughing as Leon whines at the loss of your touch. He desperately bucks his hips into your enclosed hands, but it’s not enough. He looks at you with glossy eyes and fluttering lashes. 

“This a punishment, darling. You’re not going t’cum that easily,” you tease, slowly stroking his shaft once more, thumbing the sensitive head of his cock. Leon furrows his brows, frustrated. Leon knew he could’ve avoided this if he was good for you, but then again, would have you been giving him a handjob if he wasn’t so bad.

You continue to bring him close to completion, only to take it away at the last second. He doesn’t know how many times you’ve ruined his chances of coming undone, but he knows you’re cruel. Tears streamed down his face, leaving a red, irritated trail behind on his skin.

“Oh, you look so pretty when you cry, darlin’.” you coo, his cock still in your fist as you continue to stroke him after ruining another orgasm. He throws his head back, and you’re nuzzling into the junction of his neck, leaving bite marks on the flushed skin.

“Please, please, let me cum. I– I'll be your good boy,” he hiccups, rutting his hips into your palm. 

“Mhm, okay, baby. I think you deserve it.”

You take your hand off his needy dick and give him a sloppy kiss on his lips. He observes you through watery eyes as you get on your knees in front of him, your hands gripping the back of his thighs. Fuck, he couldn’t believe it. His lieutenant was on their knees for him, about to make him cum with their mouth.

He whimpers when you drag your tongue along the shaft, tracing the veins that lead to the base. You moan softly at the taste, kissing the tip before taking him entirely into your mouth. He couldn't help but buck into your warm mouth. 

He wasn’t going to last long, he was already so sensitive from you jerking him off. His ruined orgasms only add to it. He props himself on your mahogany desk, the wood digging into his back. Eyes rolling to the back of his head when you hallow your cheeks and take more of him down your throat.

“Ugh, Fuck,” he cries when you moan around his dick, his eyes squeeze shut. A wet gag leaves you as the spongy tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and your grip on the back of his thighs tightens, leaving indents in the soft flesh. 

“‘M so close,” he whines, thrusting feverishly into your mouth, the desk shaking with each move. Drool slips past your lips as you stare up at him through your lashes clumped together by tears, silently permitting him to climax, his tummy clenching at the sight. To see you in such a manner, you, who’s always professional, on your knees in front of him, choking on this swollen cock. It’s something that’s only ever occurred in his wildest dreams.

He whimpers loudly, hand clasping over his mouth to hide his embarrassing moans as he finishes down your throat. You pull away from his softening cock, coughing, wiping the spit and cum accumulated on your face. You stand up on wobbly knees, gripping Leon’s bicep to balance yourself.

Once Leon gathers himself, he kisses you, filled with passion, his arms encircling your waist, moaning into your mouth. He’s giddy, peppering kisses all over your cheeks and puffy lips. You really do like him, don’t you? You just gave him the orgasm of his lifetime in your office. It’d only be fair to help you out, too.

“Can I return the favour, Lt.?”

[ken-dom]

Ken’s First Orgasm

Ken x reader

1.1k words

Summary: Since Ken entered the real world, he’s been experiencing some… feelings (AKA a good orgasm might calm him down)

Author’s Notes: It’s smutty, it’s tongue-in-cheek, it’s a little bit silly… just take it for what it is, enjoy the Kenergy and have fun 🩷

This was my first Ken fic, originally posted to my main blog under the title 'Ken's First Time.' Due to a tagging issue on my main, I'm reposting my works here to have everything in one place.

Warnings/content: NSFW, 18+, first kiss, first orgasm, making out, dry humping, hand job, gn!reader, Ken’s self doubt and nerves (and crying)

‘I’ve been getting these… urges, like, there’s something stirring deep inside me that I can’t seem to tame,’ Ken uttered huskily, fingers toying with the hair by your ear. ‘I think it might be because I’m craving… this.’

Biting his lip, he stared deep into your eyes, the heat of his gaze dropping down to your lips before slowly leaning in.

When you followed his lead, breath quickening as you tilted your head, he faltered, pulling back with a quiet growl and balling his fists in frustration.

He had hung on your every word all day, never taking his eyes off you for a single moment. And you’d noticed the way he lit up every time you looked at him… but now, you began to wonder if you’d done something to put him off.

‘Ken?’ you breathed carefully.

‘I- I’ve never…’ he hesitated.

Oh. That’s all it was. You dipped your head to meet his sparkling eyes again.

‘You’ve never kissed anyone?’ you asked gently, lifting your palm to rest softly against his handsome cheek.

Ken cleared his throat and forced a smile. ‘I’ve tried. Lots of times.’ He lifted his chin with mock confidence, as though trying to kiss was some sort of proud accomplishment. ‘You know how it can be.’

‘It’s alright,’ you soothed, rubbing your thumb soothingly over his cheekbone. Your mind raced with what else he probably hadn’t done either, the thought causing heat to pool at your core. ‘We’ll take it at your pace.’

The silky tone of your voice and the comfort of your words made him feel… dizzy? He blinked his gaze away, blushing. Feeling it again. That pull of something deep in his gut that made him want to submit himself to… whatever it was his body was craving so much. Damn it, he really needed to just get over it and kiss you.

You smiled warmly, leaning in again with pause enough to allow him time to decide. To your delight, he pressed forward, lips crashing soft and wet against yours, and as you parted your lips to encourage his tongue, he moaned loudly into your mouth while his fingertips drove hard into the flesh at your waist.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, it was suddenly hard to remember to breathe, his needy whines and desperate grabbing clouding your thoughts, causing your legs to tremble, but eventually you pulled away, panting.

‘Wow, Ken… that was-’

‘Terrible! I mean, you… you were great. I had no idea what I was doing. I'm not made for kissing, I’m only good at Beach.’ He shook his head, frustrated. ‘I shouldn’t have- mmh!… mmm…’

You shut him up instantly, diving back for more and inadvertently pushing him to lay back on the bed. You straddled him naturally, conscious thought still lost in the haze of excitement.

‘You- you liked it?’ he breathed huskily as you pulled up to get a look at how pretty he was, breathless with anticipation beneath you.

You nodded, humming in approval. ‘And it feels like you did too,’ you smirked, grinding down against his already aching erection.

The noise he made was unearthly, a growl and a whimper and a groan and a desperate exhale all at once. The pressure he had been feeling there released ever so slightly with a small pearl of precum, affording him a moment of bliss between the aching neediness.

You stilled, worried you’d hurt him somehow, but his eyes widened revealing pupils dilated to the size of dinner plates, and you realised it had been a sound of pleasure, not pain.

‘What… was… THAT?’ he cried out breathlessly. ‘That felt incredible! Sublime! That’s it! That’s what I’ve been craving?! Do it again? Please-’

The last word tapered into a whine as you rolled your hips to grind against him again, and he flopped down onto the pillow, eyes rolling back with overwhelming sensations he couldn’t find the words for.

‘Ken?’ you asked softly, leaning down, ‘you’ve never had an orgasm before have you?’

He shook his head.

‘Do you want to?’

He couldn’t catch his breath and his reply came out as a husky whisper. ‘Will it feel like that again?’

‘Better,’ you grinned wickedly.

‘Oh fuck, yes,’ he mumbled, not even realising he’d sworn. ‘Please.’

You leaned in to kiss him again, igniting the flames inside him that had been roaring since the first time you held his hand. Ken moaned in anticipation, closing his eyes tightly, composing and preparing himself.

You rocked your hips only once more and he exploded, fists bunching the sheets while you continued to writhe against him, his back arching off the bed and tears prickling at his eyes as his orgasm tore through every fibre of his being.

It was like nothing else. How had he never so much as wondered what this would be like until he had entered the real world and discovered human feelings and thoughts… and needs.

His chest heaved as he came down from his high, lazily lifting an arm to rest over his forehead in complete surrender while he tried to claw his way back to the present, with you.

When he opened his eyes, he was met with you smiling down at him, nothing short of smug.

‘Was that- did I-?’ he stuttered.

‘You sure did,’ you panted, heart pounding and heat rushing down to keeping your own arousal simmering. God, he was a picture, mussed hair and pink cheeks and heavy eye lids.

‘Oh… oh, that was, it was-’

You chuckled, climbing off him to settle at his side, where he turned to face you.

‘Should I have… you know? Was there something I didn’t do? You didn’t…’

The concern in his eyes was endearing, but you laughed again and he relaxed. Another tear slid down his cheek as you caressed his arm tenderly.

‘Don’t worry, Ken, we have time for that. I get the feeling you’ll be great at… doing stuff. Besides, that wasn’t quite the whole thing. I’m glad it felt good, but there’s a lot more I can show you. If you want me to…’

Ken snorted a disbelieving laugh. ‘Well, good, because these urges I’ve been getting? I think they might have actually been for-’

‘Orgasms,’ you interrupted with a smirk. ‘Yeah, humans tend to get that a lot.’

‘I’m not surprised! How do you get through the day without doing that at regular intervals?’

You laughed, gently wiping the tears from his cheeks. ‘It will calm down when you’re a little more used to it. In the meantime… let’s make the most of your libido, yes?’

‘Absolutely,’ he agreed eagerly, as though the word libido meant anything at all to him. Nevertheless, he was as eager as anything for another round.

‘I’m going to start undressing you this time… if that’s alright?’ you muttered seductively, kissing at his collar bone while your fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt.

‘Of course. You don’t have a body like mine for nothing. Well, I suppose it’s main purpose is for Beach, but-’

‘Ken?’

‘Yeah?’

You didn’t use any more words, and he suddenly lost all concept of his own thoughts when your hand slid inside his beach shorts.

‘How does this feel?’ you whispered as your fingers wrapped loosely around his thick length and pumped slowly, lightly. You didn’t want to overwhelm him too soon.

‘R-real- f-fucking- oh!- good, hnnng…’

[karinadele]

Heaven

Ratchet x Reader

NSFW

Cept ur not even there. Just a deadass ramble spinoff of the main story.

Warnings: Angst, 18+ (ofc) just solo action + obsessed ratchet

…How? When did he have these feelings?

Under the starry night, he sits by the ledge of the cliff. Groaning as he runs a servo down his faceplate. She’s a human girl Ratchet. How did you fall so hard for her?

He could count the consolation, bore himself until he mapped out Cybertron. He could go for a drive, letting nothing stop him. But he won’t. His thoughts always came back to you. Fragile like glass, yet stronger than a dark energon infused scraplet. A bug that’s wiggled itself into him. He didn’t know when these feelings developed, just that now they’ve consumed every part of his circuitry. The longing for you is so painful. He’s lost the chance to hold you, and doesn’t know when he’ll have the chance again.

Was it the day he met you? Perhaps he was unconsciously already had his spark drawn to you at that moment? Or was it when you got the ekg tattoo on your forearm? A simple line symbolizing life, the very exact one on his arm. Whatever it was, you warmed into him. The unconditional love and care you gave him… Annoying as he felt in the moment, always telling him to refuel, to recharge… Now, missing it more than ever.

He remembered when you first got the tattoo, surprised that a human would physically change their looks permanently, and one to dedicate to him. Remembering the time when he ran his digit over it as soon as it was healed, the softness of your skin as well as the scabs from healing, sending jolts right to his own frame. Landing where his own markings were.

Sighing as he feels his spike pressurize, pressing against the plating. Something about a soft human– No. You. One he thought was the same as him, worn and tired of conflict, but you quickly proved that even with trauma, one can stand strong. One can still be kind. Not just in their line of work, but even in their personal lives. You told him it was years of therapy and work, but even he knew. That was not all it was. It takes the strength of steel, no. Something even stronger than the hardest alloy on Cybertron to be able to accomplish what you did.

A spark he long thought he’d lost. Yet you’ve managed to slide it back into him. Igniting it again.

Popping open his plating, as he glances around to make sure no one is nearby. He thought about how kind and gentle you were, always doing whatever to help out. What would those arms be if they were not holding energon cubes, but his spike? Slowly wrapping his servo around the base, as he imagines it to be your hand. Letting out a soft guttural groan as he deluded himself into feeling your warmth.

You often laid on his chassis. After finally coaxing him into recharge, everytime you would lay on him until you were sure he’s deep in stasis. A moment cut too short. If he knew you would be gone, he would have never allowed himself to shut down. Chasing the feeling of you again, he ran his free servo over his chassis, placing it where you always laid. Picking up pace with the other servo, he imagined if you were with him. Laying there, soothing him that it’s okay. Encouraging him to let loose, indulge in desires, and to overload.

Feeling his spark glow stronger. His energon lines pulsing through him, as he remembered how you would sit by his shoulder, patting and soothing his helm. What would those palms feel like on his spike? Running his servo up the length, he palms the tip, the feeling being softer than it actually is. Overwriting his sensors that it’s your palm, Gently rubbing him, as you wrap your hands over his shaft, stroking it up and down.

Now going at the steady pace, letting out groans as he continues to work himself. Only seeing and feeling you. He knows transfluid probably isn’t safe for you, but he wants to see you covered in it. To be dripping in his blue marking. Or perhaps filling it in you– even the thought of it just brings him closer. Pants chasing after pants, he moans out your name. Static gargling his vents as he flutters his optics. Picking up the pace, faster and faster as he hears you encourage him for his release.

He can hear you being proud of him, long has the guilt of doing something like this left. Replaced with kind words of encouragement, sweet nothings and a mutual desperate need of release. Grunting a static groan as he shuts his optics, other servo on the ground, propping himself up as he overloads. Spilling the blue glowing liquid all over his servo, wishing it was your hands.

A moment of calmness washes over him. It’s been so long he’s indulged himself in any sort of pleasure, and the fact that it was you that melted his exterior to tell him he should enjoy it, absolutely sends jolts down his spinal strut. Still feeling aftershocks as his abdomen plating shifts and clenches, dribbles of transfluid still oozing out.

He tells himself he needs to find you. Chase you to whatever depths you may be in. All that matters is that you’re with him. Pulling out a cloth from his subspace as he wipes himself off, processors running overtime to plan his next move.

[sunalee]

the hood and the healer

summary: The town's vigilant always visits your tent with a wound to be taken care of.

with: Kim Mingyu

warnings: historical!au, mentions of injuries, a bit of angst and grieving, open wound (nothing graphic), healer!reader, childhood friends to lovers?, unspoken feelings, fluff. word count: 1500+

The evening comes, and it’s the time for you to close the doors of your humble hut to rest. Fortunately, there weren’t too many villagers seeking your care today: two children who got into a fight in the streets, a wounded guard who prevented a robbery, and a lady with a skin disease in her knee, who needed weekly treatments to improve her health.

You can’t exactly call yourself the best healer in the realm, your tools aren’t the most advanced, and neither are your skills, much to the short time you’ve been practicing. But you’re proud to help in any way you can. 

The well-being of your patients it’s what matters most, and you do whatever you can to provide that, paying close attention to every ingredient chosen or bought, cleaning and tending them to later produce ointments and other types of medicines. You learned all the recipes from your late father’s journal, your inspiration of healer, who taught you everything you know today.

His manuscripts are now all you have of him since your childhood home was demolished four years ago, on orders of the current governor, Mozan. That tyrant ravished almost every knowledge source in town, monopolizing to his own hands so that people pay more for services they had in abundance. So many valuables, research, and medicines that could bring so much improvement were lost that day, and with your father’s death, you had to learn from the worst scenario how to get back up and move forward with your life. 

It’s been a tough and long process, but even though you still didn’t accomplish a comfortable situation, you’re grateful for what you’ve done so far.

Organizing the glass balm jars on the shelves, you’re startled by hurried knocks on the door, so suddenly that almost makes you drop the jar you’ve been holding. 

Who could it be at this hour? For precaution, you take a medium branch from the pile you gathered early to the fireplace, hard enough to leave a good concussion. You take a deep breath before unlocking the door and slightly opening it.

A tall, hooded-dressed man is waiting on the other side. The white fabric of his haori almost hides his brown uniform underneath it, but you don’t pay much attention to that, eyes focusing on the way the man is holding his arm close, a clear sign of injury.

You don’t need much more than the warm-brownish eyes gazing at you, and the wooden bow strapped to his back to recognize your childhood friend Mingyu. 

“Do you have time for one more patient?” His pleasant, deep voice vocalizes a question a little embarrassed and restrained as if he did something he shouldn’t and now it hurts like hell. And from the way his body is curling forward, he won’t be able to endure that wound much longer.

And you know exactly what got him into this situation. Oh, how much you want to give him the slaps his mother forgot to do. 

Sliding those thoughts aside, you make room for him to enter, guiding the dark-haired man to the futon where you tend most of your clients. You preferred to quiet yourself, feeling down your throat the hard lecture you wish to free, but you let your worry lead you, removing his belongings and upper clothes until you spot the ugly hole covered with blood on his shoulder.

“Arrow.” He informs, hissing when you touch the wound with a white cloth to clean it and inspect it better. “I put some pressure on it on my way here, but I suppose it’s worse than before. It feels like it.”

“Fool.” You whisper to yourself, but Mingyu catches your words, chuckling in response. He has to agree with you on that. He turns quiet, watching you as you meticulously check on him, searching and finding other bruises along his torso and back. He noticed the signs you leave and sadness in your eyes at every scratch found, making him feel guilty for making you so concerned. 

Ensured enough, you return to the main wound. Thank goodness Mingyu wasn’t stupid to ignore it, as without proper care it could quickly become infected and worsen his situation. It isn’t large, but you’ll need to give it a few stitches to close it and quicken the healing process. 

You leave for a few seconds, gathering the material before returning with a basin of water, some more cloths, strips, an ointment, and a canteen of water for him to recover his energy. You offer some seeds to lessen the pain, but he denies them gently, knowing how much you struggle to find these seeds in the woods. He’s been through a lot more pain than this, he can take it. 

“Tell me if it gets too much.” You encourage him while cleaning the wound, gazing at him one last time before taking the needle and twine, and starting to stitch his skin. Mingyu does an excellent job at hiding the intense pain in his body, taking deep and even breaths to relive it. His resilience stuns you so much, how can the patient be calmer than the healer? 

 It’s a horrible sensation, especially on someone so dear to you. It’s something that you pray to never need to repeat. You finally finish the nerve-wracking stitches, content with your work but still nervous as you inspect it for any mistakes. 

“You’re worried.” He points out after a few moments,  noticing the way your body is stressed by the whole situation.

“How did this happen?” You decide to ignore it, gathering the material to start patching him up. 

He sighs. He won’t win this fight. “I broke into one of Mozan’s vaults. There weren’t any patrols at first, but a few archers appeared later on as I collected the coins.” He tells the story so casually that you could believe he does that every day after breakfast. “I got away in time, but one of them hit me in the shoulder as I was riding.” He confesses frustrated,  not quite meeting your eyes. “Don’t worry, I made sure to lose them before I came here.”

You chuckle in disbelief, trying to ingest what you just heard. How can he presume that you’re more worried about two archers breaking into your house than your only friend, who almost died at their hands?

Honestly, you never will understand what goes through Mingyu’s head. But clearly, it’s majority nonsense.

“Was that funny?” He asks, visibly confused. Your urge to hit him grows, but you rather fill your hands with the ointment to rub on his wound. Maybe if you press your fingers just a little harder, it’ll hurt him enough.

But you love him too much to do that.

“Why do you keep doing this?” You can’t take it anymore. You can’t keep watching him putting himself in danger over nothing. “What’s so nice about robbing the rich, hm? Why do you keep risking your life on this? It’s not worth it,Gyu!”

“Of course it’s worth it!” He sneers, getting defensive. He doesn’t want to argue with you, but he won’t just let you assume his purpose is pointless: you need to understand his point.  Pursing his lips, he keeps on explaining. “You know I’m not doing this for money. I’m doing justice to everyone who suffered for the greed of these men. To all who starve, while they stuff themselves with wine and meal. I’m doing this for us, _______.”

“This isn’t the right way to do it, and you know that.” You firmly rebound, even if it’s clear in his eyes the purity of his intentions. His heart is the greatest you’ve ever seen, but his emotions aren’t enough to assure his safety. “Your father would never agree with what you’re doing right now.”

“My father is dead because of them!” He raises his voice, gaze turning into flames for a moment. Breathing hard, he realizes what just happened, and tears start forming in the same place, making you regret bringing up such a sorrowful memory. “He was a righteous man who fell into their trap.” He gulps down, trying to contain his growing emotions. “ -and I’ll not let anyone else suffer as he did. I won’t let any child lose their father the way I lost. And I don’t care if I have to go through hundreds of arrows to guarantee that!”

You stare at each other for slow, silent seconds, until Ren regains his calmness, eyes softening as he realizes how he handled things. You continue to tend to his wounds without muttering words, but you can feel his regretful gaze on you. The only sound echoing in the room is the flames covering the woods in the fireplace.

You finish the last bandage before returning his clothes, not really meeting his gaze.“All done. Try not to make any brusque movements with your arm, and remember to change the dressing around the same time for the next few days.” You give the instructions, holding the now bloody bowl in your hands to discard. “I’ll get you medicine for the pain.”

A gentle hand holds your arm before you can move away, making you stay still as you search for an answer inside those beautiful blazing eyes of his.

“Forgive me… For being so harsh with my words. I know you only worry for me, and I’m immensely grateful for your care.” He tries to apologize, shoulders soothing as you offer him a small smile in return. 

“It’s all right. Forgive me for the things I said to you as well.” You answer, also regretfully. Mingyu didn’t lose his father to a disease like you did, and neither had the honor to stay with him in his last moments; his father was murdered in cold blood, and punished publicly for confronting the tyranny without fear. An honored soldier, who did nothing but protect his people. If you were in his place, you would be just as furious as him. You move closer, rubbing softly his good shoulder. “Now, let me bring your medicine.”

He lets you go this time, taking a moment to look around the room as you search on the shelves.

“Looks like the roof has some holes in it.”

“Termites.” You explain, grabbing a green bottle, the smell of calendula filling your nostrils as you confirm the content. “They’ve been growing fast outside, and ended up coming to my house as well. Once I get enough, I’ll repair the damages.”

“I could help you with the coins, you know.” He not so discreetly proposes, but you know very well where those funds came from. “Winter is coming, and these holes won’t do you any good with the cold.”

“I can handle it, Gyu, but I appreciate the offer.” You leave no room for conversation walking back to him and passing the medicine. “Take twice a day, ten hours apart. It doesn’t taste very well, but it will help you through the pain.” You instruct, noticing after that he doesn’t take his eyes off you as he catches the bottle, amused by your stubbornness. As always. 

“Thank you, _______.” He says, not only for what you’ve done, but for every wound, pain, and struggle you’ve helped him go through, since his childhood. One day, he'll honor everything, starting by giving you a better place to live. It won’t be today, nor tomorrow, but certainly one day.

He rises from the futon and surprises you with a tender, slow peck on your forehead. You’ve never questioned Mingyu’s feelings before, content with just being a dear person to him. 

But perhaps, something deeper could arouse in the future.

“Take care, my healer.” He says with a hint of humor, already dressed with his uniform and belongings. Walking towards the entrance, he turns to you one more time. “Until next time.”

“Not wounded, I hope.” You almost plead, making him giggle so genuinely that brings a smile to your face as well. It’s good to see him well. 

“But that’s the funny part.” He answers with a cheeky grin, and with the last wave, he leaves your hut, closing the door on the way out.

Already missing his presence, you start gathering the used material from the ground, but you find a small bag that wasn’t familiar. There’s a note beside it, but you decide to check the content inside, finding a good amount of gold coins that make you speechless. Shaking your head in disbelief, you open the note, already knowing who gave you such gift:

“You said you didn’t want help with the roof, but you didn’t say anything about the medicine’s price.”

— Gyu.

© sunalee 2024 — all rights reserved.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Love and deepspace boy getting you back for touching their butt when theyre angry and turn away from you pls (I hope you know what I mean)

Honestly had no idea what Xavier would do in retaliation, so I kinda just skipped him. Plus I didn’t want any of them sounding repetitive of each other and that I couldn’t think of anything…

Rafayel

‘I’m not just gonna grow a tail, even if you touch it over and over again.’ He muttered after you smacked his ass, pouting as he rubbing his backside as though you bruised him with your playful swat.

You scoffed, he always acted as though that any form of activity would make him bruise like a peach but when in reality he was just being extremely dramatic; so basically being himself.

So when he began to ignore you shortly after the incident, you weren’t at all shocked nor were you worried as in the end Rafayel always tended to be the one to come crawling back for your affection and attention; you often joked that he couldn’t last a day without pestering you with text and voice messages, attempted FaceTime calls and calls in general and needless to say he took that as a personal challenge but failed just under a record breaking five seconds into it.

However this felt a lot different then to the other times he’s ’ignored’ you.

He was scheming and you were rightfully skeptical.

One day, you had grown bored of his recent antics that you started to head towards the front door and were just about to leave when something caught the corner of your eye; a discarded paintbrush. ‘What the-‘ you sighed before marching over to pick it up, less then amused. ‘I swear I’ll have to get on Raf’s ass for leaving his shit lying about sooner or later because one day someone’s going to get hurt-‘

SMACK

You looked over your shoulder to see a smirking Rafayel and everything started to come together for you.

‘You just smacked my ass.’

‘Yep.’ Rafayel replied, almost as if feeling accomplished.

‘But did you have to do it that fucking hard?’ You complained as you were now the one pouting and rubbing your sore backside as though you were an easily bruised peach.

Rafayel shrugged. ‘You did it to me first, so-‘

‘Yeah but I didn’t smack you nearly as hard as you did just now.’ You cut him off before muttering to yourself. ‘That’s gonna bruise and make sitting down a whole lot harder. Thanks for that.’

Rafayel pretended as though he didn’t hear you and moved past you to pick up the paint brush with a look upon his face as though he had been searching all over his impressive studio for awhile, pocketing it not long after. ‘Aww that must really suck, for you that is, hope you’ve got an excuse on hand for the instance that someone takes notice and starts asking questions.’ He then gave you a look of false sympathy, patting you on the shoulder before leaving you to focus on his latest painting.

You fucking hated him sometimes but couldn’t help but love him twice as hard for his stupid antics that you secretly adore.

Zayne aka ‘mr surgical knots.’

‘Is this really necessary?’ You grunt as you tried to break your hands free from the knot that was currently keeping your hands bound together.

‘Consider it a precaution for your,’ Zayne pauses to watch you struggle before continuing, ‘wandering hands.’

You chuckled humourlessly as you decided that it was hopeless in trying to get your hands untied, Zayne had done an excellent job in making sure that the knot was strong enough to keep your hands restrained but yet not tight enough to cause discomfort to your skin. ‘all this just because I might’ve touched your ass?’ You asked rhetorically, gauging at how his ears became red at the memory, before his evol kicked in and cooled his temperature significantly. ‘Seems a little excessive if you ask me but then again…it’s not exactly the worst punishment you could’ve come up with.’ You drawled, causing one of Zayne’s brows to raise in question.

‘So you find your current predicament to be…pleasurable?’ He inquires as he steps closer to you, making sure that he took his sweet time to admire his work and make internal pointers on how he could improve for instances where he maybe in need to use this certain knot again.

‘I mean you’re the one that’s putting words in my mouth.’ You replied, shrugging your shoulders,fully aware what this attitude of yours would bring should you keep it up.

Zayne’s jaw twitched unseeingly, he knew what you were doing and also knew that you were blatantly aware of what you were doing and so he tears this theory out by reaching a hand out, grabbing you by the restraint and swiftly pulled you closer to him until your chests were practically touching. Your eyes flickered to every inch of his face to see any signs but nothing; His face was still perfectly set in stone as it usually aside from his eyes, his eyes were glittering with an unusual look to them as they peered at you, that you couldn’t help but feel a little hot and flustered under such a unique gaze.

He then leans his head towards your ear and whispers in a low falsetto, ‘Would you like to find out just how pleasurable being tied can be?’ He drawls softly. ‘I can happily show you and help you get closely acquainted with human anatomy.’

[always-just-red]

008 with Xavier for Christmas prompts? 🥰

Whoaaaa this was actually my first ever solo request for Xavier? So thank you!!! Hope you've enjoyed the holidays, anon! 🥰

Christmas Tree

Xavier x Reader ⭐🎄☃️❄️

Prompt #008: lifting up a smaller frame to put on the finishing touch on the christmas tree: the tree topper (a star, an angel, or something else!)

| Word count: 800 | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Please be careful.”

You feel a gentle pair of hands at your waist as you balance on a stool, up on the tiptoes of one foot. You’re reaching, reaching… but you can’t quite get this stupid star on the tree, and Xavier thinks he’s helping, but he’s not. He’s an anchor, keeping you from achieving maximum reach. You just need to get a liiiiiitle further.

“It’s okay, Xavi, I got it. Sheesh, where’s this concern when I’m tackling Wanderers, huh?”

“I’m always concerned when you’re tackling Wanderers,” he frowns behind you— you can hear it. “Although, in a healthy, supportive way. Not a paranoid, lack-of-faith-in-you way.”

You chuckle to yourself. Stop reaching. “This feels like a lack of faith,” you say, patting his hands.

“Well, it’s healthy support.”

“Okay, okay. Can I get a healthy, supportive boost, please?”

He adjusts: moving closer to you, letting his hands circle lower. After a short countdown, he lifts you. There’s no huff of exertion. No tension. Show off. You still have to reach a little, but you manage to plonk the star on top of the tree.

“Happy?” Xavier asks, and there’s no strain in his voice, either.

“Happy. You may release me.”

With his own, quiet chuckle, Xavier sets you down beside the stool. You sigh and brush your hands together like you’ve just accomplished something difficult. It takes all of your Wanderer-tackling strength and poise to not giggle as you glance up at the tree topper.

Xavier looks up at it too. “Wait.” He narrows his eyes: inspection, not suspicion. “Is that… me?”

You couldn’t believe your luck when you found that star the other day, when you were out Christmas shopping with Tara. It’s pretty, shiny and golden— as all stars ought to be— but it’s also a photo frame. Maybe for pets? They’d used a picture of a cat on the box it came in, but you had a much, much better idea.

“Yeah…” you confirm. “I was tied, you know? Did I want an angel on top of the tree? Did I want a star? Then I thought—” you stretch, catching Xavier’s face in your hands— “why settle for one? Why not have both?”

His cheeks are being squished by your palms, but his eyes dart back to the tree topper. “Aww,” he says after a moment. “That’s cute.”

“You’re okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His mouth is still pinched, and his voice? A mumble.

You let him go so you can gaze at the photo on top of the tree.

It’s not a flattering picture. You never thought you’d be able to say that, but you worked hard for it, so you can— it is not a flattering picture! It took you about a hundred ambushes with a camera. About a thousand, failed, flattering photos. His face stuns at literally every angle, and damn it, you now have proof! He’s blessed by gods you didn’t even know existed. He’s impossible. Insufferable.

But then you got that one photo.

… In Akso, when he was maybe sort of kinda unconscious, even bleeding a little, but it’s fine! He was fine, wasn’t he? One flash of your phone, one scathing look from dear Doctor Zayne, and you got it:

The one photo of Xavier where he doesn’t look like a model. At least… not for anything anyone would want.

“It’s… not the best picture,” you answer finally. You don’t know what else to say; you thought your masterpiece would speak for itself.

“I don’t know,” he muses. “I think I look handsome. Why? Don’t you?”

Blue eyes turn on you, wide like the baubles on the tree, and sparkling with just as many Christmas lights. You feel like you’ve kicked a puppy. “Well, yeah, of course,” you stammer, “but still, it isn’t—”

A flash.

You blink, stunned.

Xavier is smiling down at his phone, and realisation dawns on you. “Wait, did you just—”

He turns the phone around to show you the photo he just took of you, and suddenly ‘unflattering’ has a whole new face and meaning. Your eyes are closed. You’re mid-speech, but you look mid-sneeze. “For next year!” Xavier chirps sweetly.

“No, no, no, Xavier, you have to delete that. It’s Christmas! Come on, please, just—”

You grab at the phone but he’s way ahead of you, holding it up out of reach with an easy-going hum. He turns away— walks away— and you can’t see it, but as you nip at his heels, flailing and frantically begging, he smiles, triumphant.

[a-certain-romance]

No One Knows

Characters/Ships: Yandere!Ruan Mei x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut written by a minor, Possessiveness, Fingering

For years, Ruan Mei has struggled with her ongoing research in the origins of life. Failed experiment after failed experiment. The emanator she created was only a short-lived example of all those years of hard work. Maybe it was too ambitious. And frankly, too large to manage. She needed something more stable, and tangible for long enough to be studied.

Through hours upon hours of trial and error, she finally succeeded in the creation of her most prized possession: you, her perfect little creation.

Her attempts at creating life were finally fulfilled with the help of that trailblazer from the Asteral Express. You were timid at first. Her modifications gave you the knowledge and ability to speak and read, but it took some time to warm up to her. Ruan Mei desperately wanted to study you immediately, but she’ll settle for simple observations until she gains your trust.

It was a slow process. If Ruan Mei has learned anything, it’s that she needs to learn how to show you affection. She spent more time with you when it didn’t involve her research. Although she’s been apathetic for some time, you’ve given her the courage to step out of her comfort zone. For the sake of this project of course.

Whatever she did worked. You eventually became as clingy as her past experiments. It’s only natural for you to adopt that same loving nature as the others have, but this time she’s enabled it a little more. She lets you be in the same room when she’s doing side projects and shares her knowledge of the biological and ecological aspects. She shares a lot of her pastries with you, and even makes the time to bake things with you. Sometimes when she’s spending a lot of time writing, she lets you lay your head on her lap for a while. She used to only see you as an influential accomplishment, but now she feels a sense of protective ownership over you.

She can’t keep you at the space station forever. Even though Herta doesn’t mind, she’s starting to get a little too curious about what Ruan Mei is keeping in that unoccupied level of the station.

And worst of all, her little creation is starting to wonder what’s behind those big steel doors that keep her locked in. And that just won’t do. She’s seen you giving those doors such longing looks, seen you tap and occasionally scratch the glass window. She makes a mental note to re-enforce the durability—‘just in case’. She knows she should observe your new behaviors a little closer, but she came to that conclusion a little too late the day she caught you stealing her card.

Were you…actually trying to escape? But why? She transformed this entire area just for you. Her past experiments have prepared her for what it takes to give something life; from food to sunlight to entertainment to company, what more can you possibly need?

“I’ll show you how much you need me.”

Her kisses are feather light at first. She pins you against the very door you intended on breaching. Even the pinning is gentle. You could probably struggle against her, but something tells you that she can easily overpower you with enough motivation.

Just as gently, her knee pressed right against your core. Her lips brush against your cheek, “Do you want more?” She asks sweetly. A little too sweetly. You shake your head, and she flips you around forcefully. In her breathy voice commands: “Hands against the door.”

Your palms shakily press against the surface. “Perfect,” she muses.

She strokes here hands all along your body, eventually settling on your waist. “Look at the way your body reacts to my touch. You’d miss this if you left me.” She kisses and nips your skin with satisfaction as her lips move down your neck.

“Only I can make you feel like this. I created you; I know your body like the back of my hand,” her thumb tugs at your waistband, causing your breath to hitch, “See? Spread your legs for me…yes, just like that, wider. That’s my girl.”

She rolls your pants down carefully to the floor, prompting you to kick them off. Your underwear follows soon after. She returns to her stance behind you. Her gloved hand finds its way to your entrance, and her middle finger is the first to push past your folds. “Be good for me.” She rasps, planting kisses around your shoulder blade.

Your slick coats her finger with every stroke. She retracts from you for just a moment to bite her soaked glove off with her teeth. She tosses it behind her before returning to your inviting warmth with an added finger. She sighs pleasurably, almost nothing is obstructing her skin from yours.

Her other hand forces you to look out the window as she scissors her fingers inside you. The glass is somewhat clouded from your panting, but you can make out the sight of how her green eyes bore into yours.

Her fingers curl and rub feverishly against your sweet spot. Your body shudders as you inch closer to your climax. “Let go,” she moans, “let go and cum for me.” Your slick spurts through her slender fingers as you climax.

As you come down, Ruan Mei whispers a few “good girl”s as she kisses your neck. Her arms wrap around your body possessively with no intention of letting go.

She’ll make arrangements for a more permanent residence to keep you close. No one knows of your existence, and she intends to keep it that way.