#but i want to make sure they BOTH get something out of this developing relationship.

[nondelphic]

Where I’ve Been and the Future of nondelphic

TLDR; I’m coming back to this blog.

I’m so nervous to post this I literally had to take a nervous shit after drafting this post just THINKING about posting it but uhhh…

Long time no see!

It’s been well over 3 months since I posted regularly on this account. I never intended to take a break, but I got overwhelmed.

I started this account in the middle of August of 2024 with a very specific niche that, if you have seen my posts before, will recognise. 

Honestly, it started mostly as a distraction from my real-life problems. I’d began writing again last spring after a long time of writing block due to anxiety, depression, and getting used to my anti-depressants. Suddenly, I went from not being able to get out of bed to being able to get out of bed just to write. It became an escape. Just like writing fanfiction used to be when I was a pre-teen.

Through that, I rediscovered how much I actually love writing and creating. And when that happened, I also started craving community. I’ve never really had writing friends (the few I had were short-lived), and I found myself missing that connection.

That’s kind of where this blog came in. It was an experiment, not something I intended to take seriously. Just a low-effort, continuous space online that wasn’t too personal but could resonate with a wide diaspora of writers. Somewhere people could see themselves in my posts.

I’ve always been in fandom or hobby spaces online in some form—grew up in a developing tech society with zero internet safety guidance, so my relationship with social media is honestly decent, all things considered. But in recent years I’d mostly been a consumer rather than a creator. And I missed that. The active partaking. The sense of community. The external validation from like-minded strangers (very Gen Z of me, I know).

And also, it gave me something to do over summer, which is the worst time of year for me. I’ve struggled with seasonal depression for years, and writing got me through the worst days of my summer uni break. But it also stirred up so many thoughts and ideas I wanted to share.

So I committed to not only starting a blog about writing, but updating it continuously, with a fixed set of posts to be posted everyday. 

Part of the experiment was personal, but another part was professional. As someone studying and working in media and social media (amongst other things), I know how algorithms work. I understand how consistency, timing, and frequency affect reach and engagement. So I also wanted to test a theory—that’s not really a theory—that if you just post a lot, at the same time, every day, you’ll see growth.

And it worked. I gained over 4,000 followers in just six months.

Numbers aren’t everything, but I won’t pretend it wasn’t validating. Especially when I’d never had a following before. People were engaging, reblogging, sending kind messages. I felt seen, and I felt like what I was making had value.

It was also fascinating to experience it from both sides, both as the creator and as the media nerd in the background mentally noting what worked, what flopped, and why.

Everything was going great.

So why did I disappear?

Well, first of all, my seasonal depression carried on to constant depression and major social anxiety during autumn and into winter. I slept all day. Didn’t go to school. Could barely leave my apartment to go grocery shopping. All I did was write and update this blog. Make sure I had enough posts queued for the coming week. 

I had some visible breaks on this blog which I always announced. “sorry can’t post rn i’m stressed need time to update my queue”. Which was true, and I felt proud of myself for being transparent about it.

But the more my following grew and the more people interacted with me, the more I started doubting myself. I don’t know if it was my anxiety, depression or probable ADHD being the culprit of this, or just plain old imposter syndrome, but I started dreading opening tumblr.

I love coming up with post ideas for people to go “omg are you inside my brain rn?” or “I love your blog, your posts make me feel seen,” and I’ve had nothing but positive experiences with everyone visiting this blog. Yet, with the growing eyes on this page, I just felt this impending fear that someday it will all be gone.

So I do what I’ve always had a habit of doing! I self-destructed. And left this blog with the excuse (to myself) to work on myself and come back stronger.

And I guess that sorry excuse has kinda come true, although at the time, I was lying to myself. This post is literally me announcing I’m coming back. But back when I abandoned this blog, I, with a heavy heart, was really planning on not coming back. The more the weeks, and then months stretched on without opening tumblr, a growing guilty conscience brewed inside of me.

I’d open the app, stare at the little icon, and immediately close it again. I didn’t know how to explain myself without it sounding dramatic or like I was attention-seeking. And the longer I waited, the harder it got to come back.

Because what do you even say after months of radio silence on a blog that wasn’t supposed to mean this much to you in the first place?

But the thing is it does mean something. And even when I tried to let it go, I kept thinking about it. I’d see something funny and think, “that would make a good nondelphic post.” I’d draft ideas in my nondelphic ideas google docs, fully knowing I wasn’t posting them, but unable to turn off that part of my brain that wanted to connect with other writers, other people who got it.

I ghosted my own blog. And I won’t pretend I had a huge dramatic epiphany or breakthrough that led me back here. Just the quiet realization that I missed it. And I have better routines now. And expectations. That make it impossible for me to turn into the same all-or-nothing approach to this blog I had during my darkest days. Don’t worry, I’m still deeply insecure, anxious and depressed, so my self-deprecating posts will continue as scheduled! But I’ve found other coping mechanisms that don’t rely on…….. Tumblr’s algorithms.

I don’t need to be 100% healed or consistent or perfect to post. And everyone who has sent me a message during the time I’ve been away that I’ve been too scared to reply to has assured me of exactly that. Maybe I can just… come back. A little softer. A little slower. A little more human.

I’m not sure what the future of this blog looks like exactly. I don’t have a new “post 10 times a day” strategy lined up. But I do know I want to write again. I want to talk to you again. I want to rebuild what I tore down with my silence. Not out of pressure or expectation, but because I want to.

So this is me, stepping back into it. One foot in the door. No grand promises, just a little wave from the threshold.

Hi again.

I’m coming back soon. How soon? I think it’s best to not make any promises, but I’ve committed to coming back now, so I’m still gonna promise “soon.”

Also, genuinely thank you. To everyone who reached out in my DMs or sent something to my ask box while I was gone: I read every single message. Even if I didn’t respond, I saw you. My heart felt so big reading your well wishes and worries. Like genuinely, I didn’t know this little corner of the internet could hold so much kindness. So thank you, from the bottom of my stupid overwhelmed heart.

See you soon ♡

xoxo nondelphic

Ps. I’m gonna write another post over on @rebellenotes in the near future for anyone curious about what I’ve been up to in the last few months.

[rainbowsky]

Hi RBS! I felt very moved and inspired by their individual stories and their love. So much that it’s given me more motivation in my own life, hoping to develop some of the amazing qualities I see in them. To be able to put in the dedication and work to be the best you can be, to fight for your passions and your person, and to pick yourself up after failure when you need to without letting it break you – that’s very much a person I’d like to be.

So I wanted to ask: Have they/their relationship inspired you in your on life?

Hi blah-bla-blah!

Far be it from me to answer a fun, simple question with a fun, simple answer! 😅

Thanks for the question, I hope you're well! You're right, those are good qualities to have, and I'm glad you've been inspired to become a better version of yourself.

I think this is an interesting question for every turtle to ponder. Not only is it fun/valuable to reflect on how GG and DD have inspired us, but I think it's equally important to have some self-reflection around what we get out of fandom and out of following them.

It's easy to get caught up in fandom and in beautiful pictures and exciting stories and lose sight of where we are in all of this.

I want to be a better person and live a better life, and I equally want to make sure I'm not doing anything harmful or losing sight of what's important both as an individual and as a fan.

So here's the honest truth on that.

The good

On a personal level, GG and DD have had a huge impact on my life and on my perspective. Most of that impact has been due to who they are, where they're from and what they create rather than anything to do with their relationship or 'their love'.

Yes, like most turtles I find GG and DD's devotion to each other and their incredible alignment and rapport with each other very unique, sweet and even entertaining - especially their bickering in multiple languages and through cryptic references - but that's not by any means the biggest impact they've had on me.

Probably because I define 'impacts' as 'factors that have changed something fundamentally about me or my life'.

Here are some of the most positive impacts:

Expanding my horizons

Since becoming a fan of GG and DD I've noticed that my world and my mind have expanded dramatically on multiple fronts. I have been inspired to dig deeply into Chinese social and political topics, history, culture, queer issues, human rights, etc. and I've become a bit of a scholar on all of that (and by 'scholar' I mean 'someone who strives to learn as much as possible' not 'someone who knows a lot').

And I have learned a lot about China and many topics as they pertain to China, but by extension I've also learned a lot more about that entire region of the world - the political, social and historical realities, the cities and geography, the languages and cultures, the landscape of queer rights, queer acceptance and queer culture, etc. And as someone who was already interested in Asian countries and cultures, it's been humbling to realize how little I actually knew/know.

It has enriched my life immeasurably to have these topics become a deep interest of mine.

Fan fiction

Another really great thing that's come out of my interest in GG and DD is that I've developed an appreciation for and an interest in fan fiction - which has in turn enriched my life in so many ways:

It's given me a new perspective on remixing culture and a newfound respect and admiration for one of the most maligned and marginalized art forms on the planet. I strongly feel most of the hate fanfic gets comes directly out of misogyny as channelled through the more socially acceptable vectors of queerphobia/kinkphobia. I can't help but compare remix culture in male-dominated musical spaces with remix culture in female-dominated fandom and literary spaces, and look critically at how differently they are treated in our society. How differently they are valued, perceived and discussed.

It has given me an entirely new insight into writing and into how to improve writing. Almost all the published material that exists in the world is heavily edited and highly polished, so that we're rarely put in a position to be exposed to a lot of amateur writing. Reading so much amateur - often somewhat raw - writing has enabled me to get a much fuller picture of the structures of storytelling and of what works and doesn't work for me, which has had a positive impact on my writing and on my attitude toward storytelling.

Reading a broad range of stories has really opened my mind about a lot of things I used to have a bit of a closed-minded attitude about. ABO, for example, used to creep me out. Now I find the ways this genre examines and subverts social structures extremely interesting and compelling (although there are still limits to my appreciation of the genre).

I've also learned more about myself and my kinks through reading fan fiction. I have had the occasional moment of self-discovery from reading stories that feature so many different relationships and dynamics, and that go to so many unique lengths to explore and subvert social and sexual norms. This is part of why I feel so strongly that the exploration people do via reading and writing fanfic is deeply important, even if authors and readers don't always set out to have a 'meaningful journey' when they write/read a particular story. And once an interest has been sparked, there are dozens, hundreds - in some cases even thousands - of stories to be found that explore or examine that angle/topic.

One good example of this is just the idea of romantic/sweet stories in general. I have never been particularly interested in such things. I consider myself to be pretty unromantic. I'm not even much of a romcom guy. My partner likes romcoms, and I generally just 'tolerate' them when he puts one on. If someone told me prior to getting into this fandom that one day I'd spend a lot of time reading romance stories I would have thought they were trolling me, but here I am voraciously reading about how a cafe barista meets a graphic designer and falls in love, or getting excited about the new ER doctor/single dad music teacher story or whatever. 😅

It has also given me an entire community of interesting people to connect with (and a whole new language/way of connecting) that I previously had no idea existed.

The vast majority of the fan fiction I read is WangXian fan fic, but I never in a million years would have started reading fan fic at all if it weren't for GG and DD and my interest in them.

Putting myself out there

I've talked a bit about this in the past, but blogging has been somewhat rehabilitative for me. I tend to keep to myself a lot and I don't generally put myself out there in a public way. IRL I'm quite private and even withdrawn. My interest in GG and DD has given me a venue for being more socially open without making me feel too socially unsafe.

As a result I've made a lot of new friends and I've been able to share my ideas in ways I've never been able to before. Especially on topics like this. I just can't imagine myself ever talking openly about some of the topics I talk about on my blog - particularly some of the topics that are stigmatized or considered to be 'feminine' topics - prior to getting into this fandom.

And because I've been discussing and sharing these topics for so many years, I've become much more comfortable with and open to discussing them IRL. Some of them, anyway. It's progress.

I've also discovered that there are ways to feel socially comfortable, confident and safe in the world. This is huge for me. As an autistic/ADHD queer person I have often felt uncomfortable in social situations, worried about whether I will be misunderstood or put my foot in my mouth. Here I've found people who have a lot of the same issues, and I've mostly been accepted for who I am (although of course I've also had a lot of hate thrown at me).

I've always had 'special interests', but I've rarely ever been able to fully explore them and share them with others. Tumblr has given me a platform/venue to do that, and it's made a huge difference to my life and to my self-acceptance around being different and around having deep interests that others find strange.

Overall, having this blog and sharing these interests has been a massive positive force in my life.

Self-acceptance

Another thing that GG and DD have given me is a better perspective on my own limitations and self-expectations. While a lot of fans say GG and DD inspire them to strive for more, achieve more, etc. - and they do for me as well to some degree - the bigger impact is that they remind me that not everyone is going to be a superstar, and that's OK.

GG and DD have both had support, opportunity and options that I simply didn't have and never will have. I talked about this in a bit more detail in an ask response back in 2020.

Given where I came from and the background I had my achievements are practically miraculous, but they're also very modest. When I look at GG and DD I remind myself of that, and I am able to be more forgiving and accepting toward myself for my perceived shortcomings and limitations.

There are other self-acceptance aspects to this as well. For example, I have always had an attachment to plushies. It's something that I just can't explain and have always been very ashamed and embarrassed about. I always have a favored plushie and I can't get to sleep without one, ever since I was a very small child.

Seeing GG in his airport photos many years ago, he would always be carrying a plushie. He also often had plushies around him in the video diaries that he would post. That meant a lot to me, and helped me heal some of the embarrassment and shame I have had throughout my life.

There are other things like this, often little things that have made me feel like it's okay to do this or it's okay to be that way. Some bigger things as well.

How about DD and his blunt honesty? This is something that I have been maligned for throughout my life. When I was a little little kid, my mother used to warn people who came to the house, "Be careful, he says what he thinks!"

Throughout my life, especially considering that I have been different from other people in ways that I can't always hide or fly under the radar about, there has frequently been a pitchfork-wielding sort of mob attitude toward how I express myself. I have often been misunderstood, singled out and demonized for simply being an honest person.

I see that this happens a lot to DD as well. People, especially people who are negatively predisposed to him for one reason or another, frequently interpret him as rude, or disrespectful, or savage. It's heartbreaking, because he's such a deeply respectful, kind-hearted person.

I cannot possibly overstate how much I treasure this about him, his personality and the way he expresses himself. I have felt like a horrible person for so long, and watching him makes me see myself through another lens and realize that I'm not that horrible person I've been taught to think of myself as.

So yeah, there are some personal ways that watching them has led to self-acceptance that I never thought I would find.

Other artists

Being a fan of GG and DD has exposed me to a lot of artists actors, musicians, etc that I would never have otherwise learned about. Some of whom are a huge inspiration to me in their own right (Seungyoun, Zhou Shen and Ayunga immediately come to mind).

This has been a huge blessing to my life. I feel so grateful for all of the new artists and creators that I have discovered through my love of GG and DD.

Turtles

Of course I cannot fail to mention all of the ways in which turtles inspire me. They are such a fun, humorous, mostly humble and sweet group of people. So much incredible creativity and so many people who are full of love and enthusiasm. All of the great works of charity that are done in GG and DD's names as well. Their ingenuity and cleverness and wit. C-turtles especially can be truly brilliant and hilarious in ways that are often totally new to me.

And turtles have brought this fascinating language of clownery, fake rumors, detective work and insightfulness that I find so enjoyable to be a part of.

The dolls. Let's not forget the dolls. I never would have thought that I would be interested in dolls at this stage in my life, but I absolutely love all of the dolls and the little outfits and the fictional GGDD offspring, Zhanbi and Bobi, all of pairings of all of their drama characters... It is all just so much fun to be a part of.

Turtles and GGDD have also helped me to get through some of the most difficult times of my entire life. Through deaths of people close to me, through a freaking pandemic, through wars and disasters and climate change and political horrors, through some pretty deep personal lows. I feel so grateful to have had GG and DD and all of my friends and fellow turtles who have helped me survive all this darkness, and who have shared a lot of the brightest moments with me.

The bad (and grey)

Like I just said, as a ND person I tend to get immersed in special interests, and while this fandom and this blog have mostly been a positive way for me to do that, there has been a downside to it. I spend a lot of time with these topics - not just GG and DD but all the topics that have sparked my interest via this fandom: Chinese/Asian politics and queer rights, fandom topics, fan fiction, etc. etc. - and this exploration inevitably happens at the expense of some of my other goals and interests.

I used to spend a lot of time on creative projects, for example, but it's been ages since I've worked on any projects, and even longer since I've finished one. There is only so much time in a day, and every hour I spend with fandom interests is an hour I don't have for something else.

It has also at times negatively impacted my relationships, and I've been actively trying to prioritize them more, which means even more sacrifices of other things.

That's why sometimes you'll see me be very active here, and other times I will be much less active. It's why I can start posts but have a hard time finishing them (my drafts folder is shocking, trust me - you'd be genuinely shocked at how many lengthy posts, reviews, years old ask responses, etc. that are nearly finished but not ready to publish).

I'm not great at finding balance with things like this, and I struggle to keep organized and focused, especially when I have outside demands being made of me that conflict with some of my other interests.

Anyone who's read my blog knows that I can be preachy at times. I'm aware of that, and I actively try not to be so tedious.

But I'm also a bit preachy in my life outside fandom, toward people who say and believe ridiculous shit about China/Chinese people. There's so much Sinophobic propaganda hammered into everyone in the West, it's appalling. I have always been intolerant of any whiff of racism or xenophobia in myself and those around me, but since becoming a fan of GG and DD I've become somewhat of an unapologetic asshole about these things.

I just get so sick of hearing anti-China commentary, I have no patience for it at all. NO, I'm not by any stretch of the imagination a China cheerleader. I'm actually pretty brutally critical of China on many levels - particularly of the CCP - and I cringe when I hear naive people parrot CCP propaganda. But it's kind of alarming how uncritically people accept what they are told about people and situations they know nothing about.

And yeah, on some levels this is a really good thing. People should be challenged on their incorrect or harmful ideas. But overall it's added some friction and conflict to my life that wasn't there before.

It's also fucked up my sleep a lot. As an insomniac and as an autistic person I need a very consistent sleep schedule - ideally one that aligns with the sleep/wake schedule of those around me - or a lot of bad things will happen for me.

Insomnia tends to have a snowball effect in my life, and if I don't get enough sleep one night it's twice as hard to get sleep the next night, and so on and so on. That in turn has a big negative impact on my ability to handle stress and overstimulation, to focus, to stay organized, etc..

Being a fan of Chinese superstars has mercilessly fucked with this on a regular basis. It's pretty hard to stick to a healthy sleep schedule when I'm following events that are happening in a distant time zone. I've become a lot better with this lately, but again - that comes at a sacrifice. When I'm getting 8 hours of sleep a night instead of 3, those hours have to come from somewhere.

The ugly

I have become a target for hate in ways that are often really hard to avoid. This is somewhat inevitable. Anyone who puts themselves out there in any way - no matter how well-intended - will find themselves the target of hate and harassment from someone somewhere.

And it just so happens that there are some features of this fandom that make it a particularly compelling target for some people. The fact that it's a fandom, the fact that it involves queer topics, the fact that it involves real people, the fact that there are rivalries, the fact that it involves discussing ideas some people might find challenging or offensive. The fact that so much of it is a matter of opinion, and I am daring to express mine.

And being targeted is difficult for me. I grew up being viciously bullied throughout my life. People used to call me names, throw stuff at me, spread hateful lies about me, even physically attack me, right from childhood into adulthood. Being different - especially where I was from - was not acceptable, and I was different in so many visible ways.

So while I've gotten much better at handling this kind of thing (and that should really be added to the 'good' list above), it isn't without its harms. Closing my anonymous inbox has massively improved things, but haters will unfortunately always be a fixture as long as I continue in this fandom.

Another impact that falls in the 'ugly' category for me is the fact that I almost never read non-fandom content anymore. I used to voraciously read literature and a wide range of non-fiction books, at a very high volume. I rarely do anymore. When I read it's usually fan fiction or else something fandom-related. I feel this has rotted my brain a bit, let's be real.

However, as I said before, fan fiction and this fandom in general has enriched my life in a lot of positive ways, so it's not all bad. But it does bother me.

It's just the way my brain is wired - it has become much harder for me to get into things that aren't directly related to my interests. I also find that fan fiction feels safe and soothing - something that I often need as a trauma survivor, autistic/ADHD person, etc.

I have to regularly evaluate where I am with all of this, and make adjustments to ensure I've got time for IRL commitments, 'regular' reading/viewing topics, etc. and that balance is not always easy.

What about love?

This is what a lot of turtles talk about when it comes to GG and DD, and I suppose it does apply to me here. They've definitely had an impact on how I view romance, and my own relationship.

I guess I could say I've become more patient and less complacent. I look at our disagreements more affectionately as bickering, and don't read too much into them or let them fester. I take more notice of our compatibilities and accomplishments.

I've always been the sort of person who needs/expects independence in a relationship. A relationship is always made up of individuals. I believe that two people who foster each other's independence and individuality are going to thrive and maintain their interest/satisfaction with each other better than those who focus unduly on the 'relationship' as some sort of third party entity.

It inspires me when I see GG and DD doing what I perceive to be the same thing. They're out there taking their own paths and doing their own things, while supporting and appreciating each other and sharing all the ways in which they're compatible. That's what a truly healthy relationship looks like IMHO.

I've always been this way myself, but watching GG and DD makes me appreciate it more than I used to. It also makes me want to protect and preserve that aspect of myself and my relationship, because I can see how important it is to a truly companionable, loving connection.

I think of DD saying, "Miss me later" and I laugh, because that's exactly how I am (yet according to GG he's 'more clingy than Jianguo' 😅). I think it's possible to go out in the world and live your life as an individual, while sharing a private internal world with someone you love. To me that's the ideal.

Some of the best for last

One of the biggest and best impacts GG and DD have had on me has come through their creative works. I can't overstate how much I love and appreciate the work they do. Especially their music, and for DD, his dance (although their acting projects have also been great to watch and follow).

It's often a source of frustration for me that the projects that have impacted me the most are the ones that I struggle to write about on my blog. With the exception of Stand Up and some other bits and pieces here and there, I don't think I've ever been able to fully articulate my feelings about the projects that have touched me the most.

I have a huge long post still in my drafts about Like the Sunshine. That is a song and dance performance that can't even re-watch or re-listen to because it hits me so hard. The song came out years ago and I still haven't finished that post.

Similarly, Hidden Blade was so inspiring to me in how DD tackled that role and really brought his character to life. I was completely blown away by that performance.

WM hit me like a freight train, and I really want and intend to write a full and thorough review of the entire album and all of the video content (and the physical album if/when it ever arrives), but I haven't been able to even make a proper start.

I also have so many feelings and thoughts about the career choices they have been making, especially DD, who I could not be prouder of. I have written a bit about some of that, but I haven't even hit the tip of the iceberg of how much it all inspires me.

All I can say is, I'm here because I get something very important out of following them and out of sharing my thoughts and feelings about them. They both mean a hell of a lot to me, and I have a lot of fun and learn a lot of new things and see a lot of new perspectives that inspire me through being a fan of theirs.

I also just really appreciate all of you who read and engage with my blog, and who interact with me - whether to challenge me or praise me, either is fine. I just really value that a lot. I feel inspired by the ideas people share with me and by the opportunity to (hopefully) contribute in some way to a positive fandom experience for others.

And I have a few very close friends here who mean the world to me. I truly treasure all of them.

I could go on and on. This is a question that sparks a lot of thoughts and feelings.

I know this has gotten very long-winded, and I will understand if 90% of you have not gotten far enough to read this sentence, but to all of you (whether you got this far or not), thanks so much.

May we all continue to enjoy everything that GG and DD have brought into our lives, and all the ways that they have brought us together. 💛.

I would love it if my readers could share some of the ways that GG and DD and turtles have inspired you. I'd love to hear some of your stories!

There is a somewhat related post about how I deal with people's reactions IRL to my interest in fandom, which you can find here.

[doctorweebmd]

eih chapter 7 6500 words 👀

i made surprisingly good progress today - was feeling like the way i wanted to end this chapter was going to be too harsh of a tone-twist and luckily when I got to it i'm like 'actually. yeah. this CAN and probably SHOULD go into the next chapter' so i still get to end on a painful and angsty note!!! yippee!! woohoo!!

also i am going to get. yelled. at. because this chapter has a lot of physics. its like half angst half physics. if i was in high school and reading this i'd want to kill me with hammers.

[fumifooms]

What if we were both magic prodigies and it otherized us in different ways and we devoted ourselves to protecting a family member who has general other goals & priorities. What if we both did self-sacrifical devotion in opposite ways.

What if we were dark mirrors of each other and where I've grown overcontrolling you've grown complacent. What if, bought as a servant into a pretty loving home, ownership and control is what love looks like to me, and to you neglected and lonely growing up, love is gratefully taking any scraps of it you’re lent.

By belonging to someone, even if she comes back injured or fails at finding Delgal, she feels like she belongs and is cherished, by owning someone he feels safe in them not leaving him.

She’s what’s tethering him do you see… And he’s the only thing giving her direction and purpose in her state. She needs a compass and he needs a support.

They’re both so out of it 😭 It’s the weirdly intense and unearned mutual trust and reliance on each other?? They’re each other’s weird little comfort codependent teddy bear. Or at least they were headed towards that before SHE DIED THEN HE DIED THEN THEY BOTH FORGOT ABOUT EACH OTHER AND NEVER MET EVER AGAIN. Though she’s also the guard attack hound keeping him safe… And vice versa he heals her and can rewrite her very being with just one wave of his hand. They’re both so so mentally and physically vulnerable both but they cling onto each other. They can’t perceive things accurately but despite it all someway somehow they stumble into something closer to resembling companionship just before they both die. Falin is just that kind and Thistle is just that lonely. Overworked.

We both haven’t lived for ourselves in a very long time, haven’t we.

They both have a similar devotion to the people they love but again the difference is that Thistle starts overtsepping while Falin is self-effacing. The other difference between them is that people care about Falin <3 People have given up on Thistle long ago, and he has given people reasons to, while people refuse to give up on Falin. Yaad has a mini arc about it dw about it it’s ok he’s not all alone in the end 😭😭 He reached out for Marcille’s hand but they already all wanted to help him, they just had to be given the chance to, Yaad just had to be given the chance to, it’s okay I’m okay

Hey what if we learned to get in touch with our own identity and the world around us and living in the present again through being in the worst codependent situationship ever.

Falin and Thistle sitting in a tree, sucking on flowers together because they’re h-u-n-g-r-y 💕💕💕

I bet he’s only ever thought of flowers as useless ornaments. Weak weeds. But she shows him they’re tasty and useful and good and pretty in their own right too and deserve existing without proving their worth and waaa <33 Thistles…... Did you know thistles taste sweet if you remove the thorns and eat them?

"Even as a chimera, her kind nature remains" you can’t suppress her in the way that matters. You can’t soothe him in the way that matters. It’s doomed. You’re doomed. It’s all doomed. Save me.

[3x03spring]

man idgaf about what treville and richelieu have going on (mostly nothing) (they dont like each other but they work together a lot bc of their jobs.) (i guess treville holding onto a sense of honour whilst working with the cardinal is interesting but like that's not. thats not really those two having something interesting going on). lets talk about the king and the cardinal man.

[butyoudidthis4what]

No Man's Land

Jack Abbot x f!Reader

5.1k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || C.W.: mentions of blood, mentions of guns and shootings, mentions of death/dying/coding, CPR, anxiety about partner's safety, Jack's traumatized, reader's traumatized, mentions of dissociation and compartmentalization, poor description of medical events, potentially incorrect medical descriptions/knowledge, very very light smut, angst, age gap kind of implied with Jack but not explicitly referenced, no use of y/n or related, not proofread, no beta, I think that's all but if I missed any please (nicely) let me know.

Summary: This is my Pitt-Fest-But-Not fic. Development of your relationship through vignettes of the past and conversations between Jack, Dana and Robby. There's a shooting where you work. Jack is at the ED when the dispatch comes in and is terrified when he can't get in touch with you.

A.N.: If my Robby reads like John Carter I'm sorry, except that a little bit I'm not. I feel like I'm struggling with my Jack characterization but can't tell if that's just me hating everything I do. This is my take on one of my fave tropes where reader is in mortal danger. I needed a physical location that could be associated with reader and settled on a courthouse, but what it is reader does there is not described. Probably (definitely?) needs a part two. If you get the nickname, thank you, I feel seen. If you don't I explain it at the end. This is absolutely something I would call him, in part to fuck with people who know his real name. I would love to know if you enjoyed and to hear any thoughts you'd like to share.

“He has a girlfriend,” Robby smirks at Dana. 

She blinks at him. “I’m sorry, I thought we were talking about Jack Abbot.”

“Oh we fucking are.” Robby stifles his smirk and forces his lips to remain closed and as neutral as possible. 

“You’re shitting me.” Dana’s incredulous look breaks Robby a bit and he starts to laugh, tries to turn it into a cough when both he and Dana look up to find Jack staring at them as he takes his snow dusted beanie off. He gives Robby a ‘really?’ look even though he knew Robby would rat him out to Dana the second Robby had dragged it out of him. 

Dana looks back at Robby. “Who? How did they meet?”

Robby holds up his hands. “You now officially know as much as I do about her.” Dana makes a noise of vague discontent but knows Jack well enough to know Robby is telling the truth. That’s all that’s been revealed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s not worth it,” you whisper. Jack blinks and looks around, unsure if you’re talking to him. He has no idea who you are, has never seen you before in his life but it appears that you are in fact whispering to him in the middle of this bookstore. 

He raises his eyebrows. “It’s not?”

You shake your head, give him an almost conspiratorial smile. “No, he must have gotten a new ghost writer. It’s really bad in comparison to his other stuff. Save your time and money. I’ll give you a summary right now for free if you’re that curious.”

Jack smiles to himself a little bit as he sets the book back on the shelf. There’s something about you, your smile, the way you just randomly spoke to him. He’s drawn to you. An alarm goes off in some part of his brain telling him to ignore it, ignore you, he could get hurt. He pretends to weigh his options as he turns to face you fully. “How about for a cup of coffee?”

Your brows furrow in confusion for a moment. There’s simply no way this unfairly attractive man is asking to buy you a cup of coffee. “The summary?” You clarify. “That I’d give for free. You want it to cost a cup of coffee instead?” You let out a nervous laugh and some part of his heart aches because you’re so adorable. “I just want to make sure I understand before I potentially make an even bigger fool of myself.” 

“Yep.” He can’t help but laugh a little. “You give me the summary over coffee. Actually, you know what? You’re going to have to give me a recommendation too because now I’m going to have nothing to read.” He clicks his tongue at you. 

“Well,” you laugh out, all breathy as you try to pull yourself together. “You drive a hard bargain but I think I’m willing to accept those terms…” you glance at his name badge, “Dr. Abbot.” You give him a full smile and Jack knows then and there he’s totally fucked in the best of ways. 

“Jack.” He smiles at you as you both begin walking towards the café. “Call me Jack.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything quiet enough after handoff, Robby walks out with Jack into the morning sun that does little to warm the breeze pulling leaves off the trees. “Any chance you can cover a shift on Saturday night?” Robby is asking, yes, but he knows it’s not really a question, Jack is always willing to work.

“Can’t.” Jack says simply, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.” There’s an expectant silence that hangs between the two as they keep walking.

“Care to elaborate?” Robby finally asks.

“No.” Jack turns and smirks at him. “It’s none of your and Dana’s business.”

“Ha!” Robby laughs. “So it’s her, it’s about her! The ever elusive girlfriend. Will we ever get to meet her? Or does she not want to meet us? Is she real?” Jack stops walking and gives Robby one of his looks. “Holy shit, is it someone here?”

Jack snorts at that. “No it’s not someone here. She’s not even in the medical field.” He sighs, half longing and half resignation of some kind. “She’s honestly dying to meet you guys, especially you and Dana, but I’m trying to protect her from this hellhole. It’s hard with schedules too, to find a time.”

“That’s such fucking bullshit,” Robby laughs. “Are you afraid to truly commit? Think bringing her here will make it too real?” 

It’s a valid question but one that Jack nevertheless resents. “No, actually, if you must fucking know Saturday is our one year anniversary. We have plans. So you’ll have to find someone else to cover. But I’ll bring her around soon,” he laughs through his nose to himself at your stubbornness, “if I don’t she’s liable to just show up one of-”

“A year?” Robby laughs, incredulous. “A fucking year? How the hell did you hide it for three months before I dragged it out of you?”

Jack ignores him. “Also, I’m moving to days. It’s better for us.” He’s so nonchalant about it, just states it like he’s saying the sky is blue, like it’s not going to make Robby’s eyes widen and mouth drop open like it does.

“I don’t,” Robby huffs a laugh, “I don’t even know where to fucking begin.”

“Then don’t.” Jack smirks, starts to walk again while Robby stays frozen, running a hand through his hair. “Go do some actual work.”

“I thought you found comfort in the darkness?” Robby yells after him. 

Jack slows and turns around but keeps walking backwards, one hand holding the strap of his backpack to keep it over his shoulder. He glances down at his phone and the photo of you that is now his wallpaper. He smiles to himself a little, yells back. “Guess I find it somewhere else now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You giggle, honest to god giggle and Jack could lose his damn mind as he nibbles at your collarbone. “You know if my anatomy class had been this fun, I might have become a doctor too.” 

You’re laying on your back in bed as Jack kisses your sweat slicked skin all over as you both come down from your last round. He’s taken to 'teaching you anatomy' like this, identifying different parts of the human body with his mouth.

“Hmm,” Jack hums against you. “I’m glad it wasn’t then. Fuck doctors.” He starts to kiss down your chest. 

“That has become quite the favorite pastime of mine, yes,” you smirk. “Fucking one specific doctor, actually.” 

“Getting fucked by one specific doctor more like it,” he murmurs into your sternum. He kisses laterally, lips hitting your breast and moving towards your nipple. 

“I think we’ve established what those are,” you moan softly as he takes your nipple into his mouth. You let your hands run through his salt and pepper curls that you adore so much. 

“Can never be too thorough.” You giggle at him again and can feel him smile against you. “But fine, you want something new?” You nod, let your nails scratch gently at his scalp. 

“Nipple,” he kisses your nipple and then down your torso to right above your belly button, “to navel is no man’s land.” He continues to lavish kisses on the soft skin of your stomach before looking up at you when you don’t respond. 

“I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not.” You eye him with mock suspicion. 

He laughs and it’s your favorite sound in the whole world, you swear. Well maybe second, only behind hearing him tell you that he loves you. 

“I’m not. Nipple to navel is no man’s land. It’s a real thing. It’s one of the worst places to get shot or stabbed because there’s so many organs that could be hit and the place we’d expect to get hit would depend on whether the person was breathing in or out at the time, whether their lungs were inflated or deflated. And we generally have no way of knowing. It can be difficult to get clear imaging.” He starts kissing lower, down below your belly button, rubbing his stubble along your skin to tease you as he gets lower and lower. “It’s never a good time. Lots of poor outcomes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s supposed to be his day off and yet Jack finds himself staring at the board and running a hand over his face. “It’s still so fucking weird seeing you here during the day and it not meaning something catastrophic has happened.” 

Jack turns to look at Dana. “I’ve been working days for a month now and it’s my day off.”

“You can go, we’re fine for now,” Robby nods at Jack. “Thanks for the brief assistance brother.”

“No, no,” Dana interjects, “he’s not allowed to leave until we nail down a time to meet his girl.” 

Robby raises his eyebrows and starts to tilt his head and open his mouth to agree with Dana. A dispatch comes through before anyone can say anything else and Dana grabs it, pinning Jack down with her eyes, daring him to leave before discussing meeting you. 

“Saved by the bell,” Jack huffs, taking his stethoscope off and starting to walk away. 

“Shooting at a courthouse,” Dana relays to Robby, “not a mass cas, just a few people, two a little iffy, one they’re already doing CPR on, a few caught in the race to get out. Two dead on the scene.”

It takes a few seconds for Dana’s words to truly register with Jack, but when they do his hearing fades to only a sharp ringing in his ear. This wasn’t happening. He’d been so reticent at the beginning of your relationship, waited so long to give in and define it and hand his heart over to you, terrified he’d lose you because of himself and who he was, his imperfections, his past, his trauma, his PTSD, his baggage, as he thought of it. He feels so stupid now, in the moment, not having worried about how he could lose you from a random act of violence, that in the moments he can’t be there to protect you somebody could come in and rip you from him. Just like that. With the pull of a trigger. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, I can confidently say this is the most unique date I’ve ever been on,” you tease Jack. 

“Hey,” he pants, “me teaching you CPR is a great date.” 

“It would be better if you took your shirt off,” you whisper and wink at him before letting your eyes linger on his arm. 

“If I did that you’d be so distracted you’d learn nothing,” he smirks at you, sweat glistening on his skin just a little. Just enough to drive you nearly feral for him. 

 “I think I’ve got the compressions part down, but I may need more help learning the mouth to mouth part.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You fucking love it,” you shoot back at him, leaning into his space and bumping him with your shoulder. 

He can’t help but kiss you. “Yes,” the word is muffled against your lips, “yes I do.” He gives you a firmer kiss this time before he pulls away. “But really. You should know how to do it, just in case. It will help you feel in control in the moment if the need for it ever arises. You’ll know what to do.”

You bite your lip and smile at him. 

“What?” He eyes you with suspicion. 

You shrug. “Nothing, I just love you so much. Sometimes it overwhelms me, how much I love you.”

He can see it in your eyes, how much you love him, can almost feel it physically squeezing him like a tight hug. He’s really not sure what he ever did to deserve you or your love. “I love you too, Doll.”

“I love you more, Peter.” Your face pulls up into that usual self-satisfied and silly grin you get sometimes when you call him that nickname. It’s a recent thing. You’re calling him it more and more though, it’s becoming a natural way of referring to him. From anyone else he would hate it, hearing it between another couple would make him roll his eyes. But from you? He loves it more than you’ll ever truly know. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack spins around.

“Jack you can still go, we’ve got it covered.” Robby looks at Jack for a minute and then meets Dana’s eyes as she looks to him after taking her own look at Jack. 

“What courthouse?” Jack asks. It’s quiet, controlled and clipped and almost missable in the chaos of the ED. He’s not looking at either of them, staring past them at a wall with a chest heaving more and more by the second as his face grows paler. 

He tries to keep it together. Dana will say the name and it won’t be your courthouse and he’ll go straight to your actual courthouse, grab you, take you home and never let you leave. A perfectly reasonable reaction, he thinks.

“Jack-”

“What fucking courthouse?” It’s louder this time, almost enough to pause the chaos of the ED. 

Jack’s voice drips with what sounds like rage to most of those who hear him but is unmistakably fear to Dana and Robby. 

Neither of them have ever seen Jack like this, this scared, struggling this hard to keep it together, truly raising his voice for anything other than to quiet down an unruly patient. His eyes find Dana’s and they’re glassier than she’s ever seen them, the intensity of his gaze making it painfully clear he’s hanging on every word and the wrong ones will shatter him. 

She swallows and opens her mouth and Jack knows what she’s about to say before she even says it. And she does. The name of your courthouse. 

“I’ll triage.” He says it before Dana has even finished, the words hollow and breathless and commanding all at once. He spins and starts off to the bay doors with nothing more. He obviously knows from the report Dana gave that they won’t need triage. He just needed to get out of there and try to create an excuse to stay in the ambulance bay. He knows Robby won’t let him, that Robby and Dana already know you’re at that courthouse, could be a victim. 

Robby and Dana share another look, So you work at a courthouse. This courthouse. “Fuck,” Dana mutters, “I really hope we don’t end up meeting her today.”

Jack’s hand dives in his pocket as he strides to the ambulance bay. He already knows in his heart that there’s not going to be a text from you saying that you’re okay. He hasn’t felt his phone buzz. He never even kept his phone on him until you. 

Even though he knew he wouldn’t have any messages, waking his phone and seeing none hits him like a freight train all the same, right in the chest. It threatens to bring him to his knees, make him sick, but he can’t. He sets it all aside. If you do come out of one of the ambulances he can hear in the distance you’re going to need him at his best. But what if you’re one of the two people dead at the scene? He has to shove that out of his mind too, can’t give into the complete panic that threatens to consume him. 

Disassociate. Compartmentalize. Do the job. ABC. Assess. Stabilize. Repeat.

His fingers fly across his phone automatically, calling you having become so routine. He prefers it so much to texting, hearing your voice, communicating more directly. “Call me,” he starts, “the second you get this message. Or fucking text me,” his voice breaks, “please. Fucking please.” He hangs up and calls again, knowing he’ll get your voicemail again but trying anyway because it’s all he can do. 

He’s helpless, powerless, he can’t do anything to try and save you and that threatens to swallow him whole. 

Your voicemail recording telling people to leave a message plays again and all Jack can wonder is if this is all he’ll have left of your voice in his life. Your voice on your mailbox, maybe some voicemails you’ve left him, videos, voice memos you’ve sent. All distorted by recording, not your real voice. He can’t remember what your real voice sounds like all of the sudden. What your laugh sounds like, how you sound when you’re sleepy or in the throes of pleasure or telling him you love him. God, did he even tell you he loved you the last time he saw you, when he said goodbye? 

“I need you to call me,” he says into the phone again, pauses. “I love you.” He takes a ragged breath in and speaks through his teeth. “I love you so fucking much, so you have to be okay and you have to fucking call me.”

He sends a series of texts asking you to call him or text him or call the hospital or do anything to let him know you’re okay, asking if you are okay, asking where you are as though you’re going to respond. He already knows you’re in the back of one of those ambulances because of fucking course you are, because he’s not allowed to have anything good in his life apparently. How could he be so stupid to think differently?  

“Hey, we don’t need triage for this. The numbers are controlled.” Robby walks out to stand next to Jack in the ambulance bay. “If you want to stay you can, but you can’t wait out here to see who shows up, you have to-”

“Yeah, yeah, jump on the first patient that pulls up, I know, I got it,” he interrupts Robby. 

There’s a silence as Robby passes him a gown and ties for him before he does the same for Robby. 

“Jack, if she’s in one you cannot-”

“Like fuck I can’t.” It’s just a statement. Cool and collected and a projection of indifference. It scares Robby more than if Jack had yelled. 

“No, actually brother, you can’t. I’m telling you right now. You’re not working on her. We don’t work on family, on significant others, and you would tell me the exact same thing. It’s too risky, you’ll be too clouded.” Robby watches Jack’s jaw clench and roll as he stares out at the street. 

He wants to argue that of course he’ll be clear, he’ll be focusing on saving you, he’ll have never been so clear in his life. But part of him knows that seeing you like that on his trauma table, your blood all over the table and him and his hands might make him freeze.

“Fine.” Jack whispers. “But if she’s,” Jack has to pause and take a shuddery breath. “If she’s gone or really going and it’s inevitable you have to let me in. You have to let me try to save her. You have to let me code her, Michael.”

He can taste the rising bile in his throat just at having to talk about coding you.

The first ambulance pulls up before Robby can respond and Jack’s on it so fast Robby’s surprised Jack doesn’t get smacked in the face by the door opening. 

It’s not you. It’s someone who is very much not you and is clearly one of the iffy ones. 

Disassociate. Compartmentalize. Do the job. ABC. Assess. Stabilize. Repeat.

Jack forces himself to go emotionally numb as he listens to the paramedic rattle off vitals and history, trying so very hard to focus on this, something he can do, even if it’s not for you. By the time they hit trauma one Jack’s fine and in full swing, running it like he would any other trauma. Nobody on the team in the room with him suspects anything is amiss.  

He hates the way he can’t see the other’s who come in, that he has to stay with this patient until they’re stable and can’t go looking for you. He chastises himself for not having brought you here before or at least having you meet Dana and Robby. They don’t even know what you look like, couldn’t identify you.

“Jack!” He glances at Dana who stands at the door as he preps for the chest tube. “What’s her name?”

He yells your name at her, impassive and stoic as he reaches for the scalpel, ignoring the looks everyone throws each other at the slightest tremor in his voice.

“I’ll look for her.” Dana promises. He doesn’t respond. He can’t. He’ll fall apart. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The restaurant you’re at has to be the fanciest place you’ve ever been to. It’s the hottest place in the city and you have no idea how Jack snagged reservations here for dinner to finish out celebrating your one year anniversary. 

The lighting and low hum of other patrons talking to each other and glasses and silverware and plates tinkling is cinematic. You feel like the main character. But then that’s always how Jack makes you feel. 

“I got you something.” He pulls out a wrapped rectangular object. 

You click your tongue and tsk at him. “We said we’d do them at home! I didn’t bring yours!”

“I know. I have something for you at home too.” His eyes sparkle in the flickering candle light, a little smirk pulling up. “I didn’t mean for it to be a double entendre, but both are true.” You snort a laugh at him and take the gift from him. “Open it.” He’s still smiling, eyes still sparkling,  but there’s something there. He’s nervous. It makes you even more curious. 

You carefully unwrap the object until it reveals itself as a hardcover book. That same one Jack had in his hand a year ago and that you told him was bad and gave him a summary of over coffee. 

“Oh, Jack,” you say softly, eyes getting a little watery. It’s so perfect. So sweet and sentimental. The book that brought you together, that gave you each other. It’s almost like a physical representation of the foundation of your relationship in a way. 

“You have to open it,” he instructs you in a whisper.

You raise an eyebrow but do as he says. 

‘Move in with me?’ is written on the blank first page. 

You look between the page and Jack. “Is this?” You look back at the page and then up at him again. “Are you really asking…?”

He nods. “Move in with me. Or move somewhere with me, we can get our own place, it doesn’t have to be my apartment. We basically live together anyway at this point. Let’s just make it official, yeah? Wherever you want, you can decorate however you want. Just as long as it’s our place.”

You bring a hand to your mouth for a second before using your napkin to dab at the inner corners of your eyes to stop the tears from falling and look back at him. 

“You’re a romantic, Jack Abbot,” you hum all dreamily. 

“You better not tell anyone. Can’t have you ruining my street cred.” He smirks, but his expression and the way he fidgets show he’s still anxious. “So?”

You realize then you never actually answered him. Sniffling a little laugh and letting a few tears fall you give him his answer, voice thick and full of emotion. “Yeah, I think I’m willing to accept those terms. I’d love to move in with you… Peter.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He hears you counting to yourself before he sees you. “One, two…”

It’s not loud, just said in a normal voice, softer if anything because of how you’re panting, but Jack is so on edge and so desperate to find you he’d subconsciously been listening closely to his surroundings, military training kicking in. His head snaps to you and he doesn’t even know what to think when he sees you being rolled in on top of a gurney, performing CPR that would rival the quality of his own. 

“Why is she..?” He hears Robby question the paramedic as you roll in. 

“She was performing them just as well as we could and it was better to just scoop and run,” the paramedic explains. “She must have had one hell of an instructor.”

“Peter!” You yell, without looking up, not sure if he’s still here. You’re so used to it by now that the nickname is just what comes out of your mouth as you look for him. He’d texted you to let you know he was going in for a bit.  

Jack could sob and the entire team in the room with him can feel a crushing tension shatter. Maybe he does get a little teary just from the sheer relief. He tells himself it’s sweat in his eyes.

“Yeah Doll?” He yells back, not giving a fuck about everyone hearing him call you Doll, and you calling him Peter, knowing full well he’s going to have so much explaining to do about this entire situation, the confusion in the room palpable. 

“I’m okay!” This time he does laugh to himself. 

“Yeah I’d say so,” he mutters, smiling. He’s still anxious to see you, get his own eyes on you, feel you with his own hands. 

It’s only about thirty more seconds before his patient is stable enough and he can rip his gloves and gown off and start putting fresh gloves on as he walks into the trauma room you’d been wheeled into. Normally he’d yell out for someone to talk to him or ask what they’ve got but not this time. This time he doesn’t even care about who’s on the table, only the person who came off it. Only you. 

You’re standing to the side now, watching Robby and the rest of the team work, impassive as pink tears stream down your face from the dried blood on it. You’re just so fucking overwhelmed by everything and now that you’re not doing CPR everything that’s happened is hitting you at once. 

Jack says your name as he moves to you, needs his hands on you. 

“Are you hurt? Were you hit?” He rushes out. His voice brings you back and you look up at him with wide, terrified eyes. He goes to look you over but you latch onto him, hugging him tightly, shaking a bit. 

“I’m fine, I’m okay, I’m, I’m sorry,” you start to rattle off, fisting at his scrub top and clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. In the moment he might just be. 

He hugs you back just as hard, kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t care who sees right now, all he cares about is you. “It’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m just so fucking glad you’re okay. I thought… I thought you were…” He doesn’t have to finish, you know what he means. “I can’t fucking lose you. I love you way the fuck too much.”

You’ve been so wrapped up in each other neither of you have noticed that Robby’s patient, the one you were doing CPR on, has started to code again. “Abbot, need you here!”

You let him go, nod at him. “Go on,” you whisper, “I’ll be right here. I’m okay. I love you more.” Jack nods at you and walks over, jumping in and assisting Robby.

It’s once you’re out of Jack’s arms, away from his warm body and more grounded in reality that you notice how cold you are, how you’re swaying because he was supporting you far more than you realized, how lightheaded you are, how your abdomen and chest really fucking hurt. You chalk it up to the adrenaline wearing off and being sore from the chest compressions you just did. 

On the other side of the room an instrument tray gets knocked over, metal hitting the floor in a loud clang. It startles you, makes you jump and twist quickly to see what it was, if it was another gun, another shot. You feel something almost tearing, a sharp pain across your abdomen and lower chest, a feeling of sticky warmth against your shirt.

You sway a little, start to realize how much worse the pain is now. It’s bad enough that you can’t even make noise to express the pain. There’s no air in your lungs, you swear. You realize your lightheadedness is now much, much worse, that you’re shivering from how cold you are. Or are you just shaking? You can’t tell. It doesn’t make sense. The room isn’t even that cold. You shouldn’t be so cold. Not unless.

You pull your shirt up slowly and look down and run your hand over your skin and sure enough, there’s a bullet hole seeping blood, about half way between your nipple line and belly button, skin now covered in a dark bruise. 

You cough a little, it’s quiet. It starts feeling like there’s water in your lungs. Like you can’t get any oxygen in even though you’re in a room full of it. The metallic taste in your mouth is what manages to seep into what’s left of your consciousness next. You cough again, into your hand, and feel something wet hit your skin. Blood. 

It hits you. You’re drowning in your own blood. That’s why it feels like you can’t breathe. You’ve been shot. In a bad place, one of the worst places, Jack had told you that night. You get scared, feel your heart pounding. It feels like you’re dying. You don’t want to die, don’t want to leave Jack. You’d just finished moving into your new place together, were going to spend all weekend unpacking and painting and getting furniture where you wanted it. You were going to make your home.

Time. You were supposed to have more time together.

“Hey, Jack,” you slur softly, struggling to keep yourself standing. Luckily he hears you. Your use of his first name and the slur to your voice has him panicking again already. Time slows as he turns around to take you in, eyes going from your face and the blood coating your teeth and trickling from your mouth as you try and smile reassuringly at him, down to your torso where you’re still holding your shirt up just enough for him and everyone else in the room to see the bullet hole and bruising marring your skin. “I think, I think I’m not good, it’s not good.” Your vision tunnels so fast you can just barely see Jack’s expression of sheer abject unadulterated horror and panic as you get out your last words. “Nipples to navel… no man’s land.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter. Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter. Yes, I worked in a bookstore through college.

Part Two is up!

[unboundprompts]

Hello! Can you help me and/or give me examples of how to write a pre-teen? Specifically a slightly mature for their age but still socially-awkward, selfless, empathetic, extroverted 10-year-old

How to Write a Pre-Teen

Voice and Language

Simple but specific vocabulary: Pre-teens might not use very complex words, but they often know and throw in some “big words” they’ve recently learned or mimic words they hear adults use. Don’t overdo it, though—they’ll often misapply or half-understand these terms, which can create natural, humorous moments.

“It’s totally, like, a catastrophe that I forgot my project.”

Expressive dialogue: Pre-teens are enthusiastic and often exaggerate. They can also shift quickly between emotions, from excitement to frustration.

“That was the best movie ever!” might turn into “Actually, I mean, it was kinda boring in some parts, but, you know, overall…”

Thoughtful yet blunt: Kids this age often haven’t fully learned the “filters” adults use. They can be direct and say things that are surprisingly insightful or unexpectedly honest.

Thoughts and Perspective

Developing identity and opinions: They’re beginning to form their own beliefs but still echo the views of family, teachers, or friends.

“Mom says people should never lie, but I wonder if little lies are okay if they help people feel better…”

Questioning and introspective moments: Pre-teens are curious about life, relationships, and “big ideas.” They may ask questions, but sometimes keep their deep thoughts to themselves, exploring them internally.

“If friends are supposed to be there for each other, why do I feel alone even when they’re around?”

Struggle with abstract concepts: At this age, they’re just beginning to understand abstract ideas like justice or friendship but often approach them in straightforward, literal ways.

Behavior and Actions

Impulsivity and energy: They might shift quickly between activities and emotions, getting distracted or excited without much control over it. They may also blurt out ideas or act before thinking, especially if they’re extroverted.

For instance, a character might immediately jump up to help someone even if they aren’t sure what to do, or they might “borrow” something without fully considering the consequences.

Physical awkwardness: Pre-teens can be a bit clumsy as they’re still growing into their bodies. This can lead to endearing, awkward moments.

They might knock something over, trip over their own feet, or feel self-conscious in ways that show they’re still figuring themselves out physically as well as socially.

Friendships and Social Dynamics

Navigating social rules: Pre-teens are very aware of social “rules” but may not fully understand them. This is an age when they care a lot about what their friends think, but they’re also just beginning to question these dynamics.

A pre-teen might want to befriend the “cool” kids but feel conflicted when they realize their values don’t align. Or they may try too hard to impress friends and feel self-conscious afterward.

Conflicted loyalties: Friendships are often intense at this age, and they might struggle with conflicting feelings if friends argue or if they feel left out.

“I really like hanging out with Sarah, but I know Emma doesn’t. Maybe if I can make them both laugh, we could all just… get along?”

Small gestures: Pre-teens often show they care in understated ways, like sharing snacks, giving a small gift, or cheering someone up when they’re down. For a socially-awkward pre-teen, these gestures may come out clumsy but sweet.

Insecurity and Self-Awareness

Self-consciousness mixed with bravery: Pre-teens often fluctuate between trying to fit in and wanting to stand out. They might do something brave but then doubt themselves or quickly retreat if things don’t go as planned.

For instance, a character might volunteer to speak in front of the class only to feel panicked once they’re in the spotlight.

Hyper-awareness of themselves and others: They’re beginning to notice how others perceive them and may get flustered easily or worry about little things, like if their clothes look okay or if they sounded silly.

“I shouldn’t have laughed like that… I bet everyone thought I sounded so weird.”

Joking as a defense: Pre-teens often use humor to cope, covering up their awkwardness or discomfort by making jokes.

Reactions to Conflict and Emotion

Quick emotional shifts: They might go from laughing to frustrated to embarrassed in just a few minutes. They feel emotions intensely and may have outbursts or react strongly to things adults might dismiss as minor.

Heroic ideals vs. real-world disappointments: Many pre-teens have an idealized view of right and wrong, fairness, and heroism, and they may be disappointed when things don’t align with these ideals. They’re just starting to understand that people aren’t all good or all bad.

“I don’t get it… why would she lie about something like that? Friends are supposed to be honest!”

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Isagi Yoichi going absolutely insane when someone talks shit about you, his one and only girlfriend.

And I'm not saying insane as in "Don't talk about her like that!". I'm saying insane as in "Say her name again with that filthy mouth of yours and I swear I'll cut your fucking tongue off."

He can handle people badmouthing him. It's not that deep, really. He's a football player, so, like every other athlete, he has fans and haters all around the globe (more fans than haters, but anyways). So, he developed the hability to just tune off all the hateful comments. Badmouth him all you want, that ain't changing the fact that he's a sucessful all star player and you're not.

What he can't handle, though, is when someone tries to talk shit about his relationship with you, his favorite person in the whole world.

Sadly for the media, you're not a famous singer or model. Yoichi and you met when you were both still little kids, dreaming about monsters, princesses and the world cup trophy. In kindergarten, he thought you were a very great friend. He realized you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen when you were middle schoolers, and, by the time high school came, he had already learned to accept the fact that he was head over heels for you. And so, like a "straight out of a movie" kind of scene, he confessed his love for you all sweaty and smiling in front of the whole world after his winning goal at the Blue Lock XI against Japan U20 match two years ago.

So yeah, you and Isagi had a cute love story. Every video of you together had millions of views and thousands of "couple goals" comments, and people loved you (honestly, how could they not? You're amazing, he's not even sure how he managed to make you fall for his "football rizz" or something, but he's glad you did anyways).

Apparently, not everyone appreciated you as much as he thought.

"Isagi, one minute of your time, please!"

"Isagi, for french press right here!"

"Yoichi, answer my question!"

"Wow. One at a time, guys!" Isagi smiled nervously yet kindly, sitting in a chair in front of the mass of reporters from all across the world who came just to interview him.

Smiling again, Isagi pointed at one of the what seemed like thousands interviewers.

"The lady over there, with the Sae Itoshi shirt"

"Thank you for the opportunity" The room became silent. The woman, seemingly in her late twenties, smiled "I'm Maria, from Brazil's national TV press. I'd like to ask a question you about your relationship with (Name) (Surname)"

Smiling wide like a lovesick fool like he always did when someone mentioned you or your relationship, Yoichi urged the reporter to continue.

"Sure. Go ahead."

"It's a known fact that you and (Name) (Surname) have been in a relationship for a little over two years. And so, your fans are wondering: do you plan on getting married shortly?"

The silence in the room was papable. All the cameras and microphones turned to a now strawberry red Yoichi. But he wasn't embarassed because of all the attention he was getting or from the fact that the whole world was seeing this right now. He was used to this feeling of "pressure" already.

He was red because he knew you were watching this interview. He was the one who asked you to do so, after all.

"Uhm... well" he swallowed hard, eyes avoiding the cameras "We have a healthy and happy relationship. We both love each other very much and spend a lot of time together. So... I guess I'd be lying if I told you I haven't thought about it before, but..."

He couldn't even finish his sentence. The press' reaction was instantaneous. Cameras' flashes everywhere and the reporters voices overlaping eachother filled the room.

"BUT" Isagi tried to continue, but just gave up on shouting since his voice couldn't compete with the voice of the lots of reporters. So, he just said to the mic in front of him, almkst whispering, hoping it would capture his voice "I think it's still a little early. I want to make sure we're both mature and financially secure first!"

Reporters were still talking and trying to get his attention. With a sigh, he realized they wouldn't stop shouting until the next question came.

"T-the guy with the light shirt"

"Argentinian press right here" the man started.

Oh oh. Yoichi didn't sense a good vibe from this man. He doesn't know if it's his smirk or his posture, but something feels off. He looks almost dangerous.

I'm probably going crazy, Yoichi thought.

When the man opened his mouth again, though, Isagi realized his intuition was right all along.

"I know you said you love your girlfriend, but you do realize the fans think your girl is just keeping you from becoming the best version of yourself, right?"

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"What." Isagi said, the words coming out in a rather forced way.

Unlike before, the silence in the room was not only palpable. It was now suffocating, uncomfortable.

"Well, it's clear as water" the man shrugged, as if what he was saying made a lot of sense "She is stopping you from becoming the number one striker in the world."

All Isagi wanted to do now was jump across the room and send his fist flying straight to the man's face. He wanted it to realize how utterly wrong he was. How your relationship was actually the best thing that had ever happened in his life, and how he would have probably given up on football have you not begged him to go to the Blue Lock program.

And the though of you sweet, caring you watching this made Yoichi give up on his idea of hitting the man straight on the nose, even if his body was trembling just from thinking about it.

I have to keep my cool. For her.

"Why..." he swallowed. Hard. "Why do you think this is truth?"

"You're not using your time wisely. Instead of practicing, your wasting it because you keep giving for futile things like a relationship"

Oh, how much Yoichi wanted to jump this ugly looking clown. How he wished to hit him hundreds of times, over and over again until he swallowed his own words. Until he regretted ever learning how to even speak.

His fist was already trembling. He was taking deep breaths to keep himself steady.

But it seems like the argentinian doesn't know when to stop.

"Also, it gets kinda tiring living with the same person for a long time, no?" The man laughed "I wouldn't blame you if you're actually cheating on her too, I honestly wouldn't have just one girl if I was you. I mean, you're a star and she's just..."

"Shut. the fuck. up."

All the cameras turned to him again. Yoichi was red. But it's not cause he was embarassed, like the other time.

He was red because he was seething with boiling rage.

I'll kill him. I swear I'll fucking kill this dumb shit.

"Never" Yoichi narrowed his eyes "And I mean never say my girlfriend's name with that disgusting voice of yours again. If you as much as look at her, consider yourself fucking dead." He got up from the table, gaze harder than the one he wears on the field "That woman is the source of my happiness, and you have no right to talk about her like that. If you talk with me with respect you have to show respect for her too. Are we clear? Or is your skull too fucking thick for the information to get into it?

"Calm down, amigo! I was just saying what the fans think." The man smirked, gald to get a reaction from Isagi. If looks could kill, he would have been 6 feet under already "They think it would be better if you both break up..."

"You've fucking done it."

Yoichi jumped from the table, ready to kill the man.

He wanted to crush his skull with his bare hands, to show him just how much you mean to him and how mad he gets when someone mentions you in a degrading way.

Gladly, the japanese PR team removed the man from the room before things could get worse, or else Yoichi would realky have done some damage (he was an athlete, after all).

Watching the man leave the room with furrowed brows and a subtle pout (he really wanted to beat him, after all), Iaagu decided to use this moment to make some things clear. So, he turned to the main mic again.

"I hope this serves as a lesson" Yoichi said, somehow managing to look at almost all of the cameras at the same time "To everyone watching this. Don't expect to talk shit about my girlfriend and get out with all of your teeth in place. I fucking dare anyone to badmouth her. I won't let you get away with it." He glared at one of the cameras "This press ends now."

He then quickly got out of the room, ignoring all the reporters who tried to get him to come back.

With a sigh, once he was in the changing room, he grabbed his phone, not surprised to see almost 20 missed calls and 50 missed massages from you.

(My love ❤️)

-> YOICHI???

-> WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING

-> (1 missed call)

Don't worry, I'm going home now 😁 <-

Miss you ❤️ <-

-> Typing...

With a smile, he put his phone in his pocket and started to go home.

Man, he just really wanted to see you. Specially since he knew that the next day, the press would want more interviews about what happened.

Whatever. What really matters is that, at the end of the day, you're his and he's yours. And no amount of dumb reporters or media will ever change that.

~ A/N: not proofread. This sucks 💔 I wrote this to stop my growing Aiku obsession LOL

Masterlist

[miyukisu]

NSFW Alphabet | Sae Itoshi .ᐟ

❤︎ | Get to know Sae Itoshi from A to Z~ ╰ feat. sae itoshi x afab! reader

minors do not interact

[A] Aftercare Decent. Bare minimum. Not over the top. At the very least he would wipe you down and clean you up without expecting you to move an inch. He'll even guide you to the bathroom if you plan to shower together (there are times when he carries you, but that's reserved for days when he REALLY goes all out on you). You have to specifically request for things if you want him to do it. Otherwise, that's all you're getting.

[B] Body Part Sae's canonically into ass. But it's important to note that he cares more about shape rather than size. He'll subtly ogle at your ass even in broad daylight, especially if you're wearing tight clothes that showcase it. On himself, however, he's aware of how nice his thighs look. Sometimes he'll pass by a full-length body mirror in just his boxers and he'll stand there for a minute to admire his legs. Partially, this is why he enjoys working out his legs.

[C] Cum Cums a lot, but not thick. It's more on the translucent side. He maintains a healthy diet so you can expect the taste to be bearable. Of course, he likes to release on your ass, but sometimes it gets on to your back as well. It's a sight he never gets tired of.

[D] Dirty Secret Even with his partner, he would hate to admit that he likes taking nude pictures of himself. It's not like he's going to send them out or that he gets off to it; he's no narcissist. But there's just something inexplicable about doing it. He'll snap a few, look at them, then delete them. He isn't sure why. But if you're into receiving nudes, he'll gladly comply (that is, if you've been together long enough).

[E] Experience Despite his good looks, it's surprising to know that he hasn't done it with a lot of people. He only does it with someone he's in a relationship with and even that rarely happens. He's a busy person and it takes longer for him to develop trust for anyone compared to the normal person. But you could say that he's a natural. He can make you cum at least a couple of times through instinct alone.

[F] Favorite Position He has a hard time picking between plain ol' doggy and reverse cowgirl. See any similarities? Yeah, both positions just give him a nice view of your behind. It allows him to grope, squeeze, and slap it any time he wants. He particularly likes watching it jiggle at every hard thrust that he does. Although, he might prefer doggy a little more as he can have most of the control in that position. But it's trivial to pick. He'll just have you in both positions each time you decide to do it anyway.

[G] Goofy The man doesn't smile, let alone laugh, during sex. It's not that he's not enjoying it, but he doesn't find the act to be humorous at all. He finds it weird to call it "fun". He'd rather describe it as passionate and intense which is why he's serious. However, there are VERY rare moments when he cracks a small smile, but it only happens in highly emotional moments (like your first time having sex as a married couple, for example).

[H] Hair He trims it, but not for sexual purposes. He's an extremely hygienic man, so he does it out of self-care. In reality, he doesn't care too much about what their partner thinks of his hair. If they like it; then great. If they don't; they can deal with it. Besides, he doesn't care about his partner's hair. He'll take whatever's waiting for him down there. He'll never go fully bald because he finds it odd. He'll trim it a bit regularly and that's about it.

[I] Intimacy A very passionate lover; that's for sure. As I've mentioned, he finds the act to be something serious. He'll only do it with you out of love and care. So even if he doesn't outwardly seem like a romantic person in bed, he definitely is. He likes to keep it fair in the bedroom. So if he's enjoying, you should be enjoying it just as much as he is. Although, he doesn't speak much, but he'll call you "Amor" sometimes. Sae will whisper that name in your ear gently.

[J] Jack Off As you might expect, he doesn't do it a lot. For one, he's too busy doing or thinking about something else. It's something that he can only think about doing when he's lying in bed at night with a blank mind. Sae mostly does it out of frustration—if he wants to release pent up emotions without lashing out on someone else. He's quick and likes to get the job done as fast as he can. Can you blame him? It relaxes him after all. Though, he isn't immune to temptation either. If you send him jack off material, he'll gladly use it.

[K] Kink Sae discovered it a bit late, but he likes brat taming. He doesn't even know that it's a thing. He just knows that he likes putting disobedient girls in their places. He'll act annoyed or pissed off at your insolence, but deep down, he's craving that you do it more. Something about feeling that his authority is being challenged, excites him. Of course, it adds some spice to your bedroom activities. But maybe it has to do with him proving to you over and over again that he's the one in control—he's the one holding the reigns. He especially loves it when you eventually become obedient in the end. But keep being a tease; he eats it up.

[L] Location Anywhere as long as it's inside the house/apartment/hotel. He likes the privacy and comfort that those places offer. He can't be bothered to think about the possibility of getting caught. As thrilling as it might be, he has a reputation to uphold. The impending PR work is not worth the orgasm, at least for him. He also would hate to do it in a place that would force you into a weird position. At least at home there's a bed, a couch, a chair, or a counter for you to use. Again, he's a hygienic guy, so the dirty outdoors is a huge no for him.

[M] Motivation First of all, he has to be either extremely relaxed or incredibly frustrated—there is no in between. But once either condition is met, it's not that hard to get him in the mood. In fact, he likes to hear how eager you are. Simply asking him if he wants to do it would be more than enough. Even better if you express how much you've been needing him throughout the day or week. There are times when he initiates things, but that usually happens when you're already touching each other (like while cuddling). You'll know because he'll grind his hard on against you or deliberately take your hand and place it there.

[N] No Anything extreme is off the table for him. In many ways, he's quite vanilla. The farthest he'll go would be a little bit of bondage and usage of toys. But if there's extreme pain, blood, piss, and things beyond that involved—consider him out.

[O] Oral Again, he likes to keep things pretty equal, so likes both giving and receiving. Although, you might notice that he'll go at your pussy first before letting you suck him off. It gets him into the momentum apparently. Plus, most of the time, he already gets you to cum from his tongue alone. You swear that he gets better each time he does it. You can never last long since he likes to suck on the clit, oop. When you suck him off, he'll tangle his fingers in your hair and guide you lightly. He lets you do your thing, pretty much. The only exception is when he's really stressed out—expect him to tug at your hair a little harder then.

[P] Pace He usually likes it slow and sensual. Sex is the only time he feels relaxed and in control of his time. Why would he want to rush it? The atmosphere also feels different for him when he goes slow. Furthermore, Sae uses this as a way to observe you properly—which spots to hit, which points to stimulate at the same time, and so on. It gets him off knowing that he can get better and better at providing pleasure. Consider it as part of his ego as well. He might take it slow, but there are definitely moments when he pounds you hard and steady. The type of pounding that needs you to hold on for dear life or else you'll fall.

[Q] Quickie Not really a fan of it. But it's not like he would never do it. Sae will only resort to quickies when absolutely necessary. Those kinds of situations are mostly when both of your schedules are packed and there is literally not enough time to have proper sex. That or when both of you feel incredibly frustrated and nothing else will satiate you but each other. Another reason why he doesn't do this as much is that it leaves him wanting more. He hates feeling like a needy idiot, so he avoids quickies as much as he can.

[R] Risk He'll try anything not-so-extreme at least once, especially if you ask him nicely. Though he has shown interest in experimenting in bondage a bit, more specifically, in shibari. It's a bit intricate and it might hurt you a bit if not done right, but if you're willing to share that risk with him—he's game. From the Sae perspective, I'd say a risky thing that he does is whispering things in your ear he wouldn't normally say. He just likes to keep you on your toes and the way you clench down on him is just way too good. Besides, you'll most likely forget he said it anyway because he fucks you dumb most of the time.

[S] Stamina His endurance and stamina in general are certainly well-trained, but he is just a man. His dick needs to recuperate at its own pace. Maybe he can last two rounds for the most part, but there are days when he can only last for one. But it's not much of an issue. In that one round, he can last for so long. He can take advantage of that time and make you cum over and over again. Besides, even if you've milked him for the time being, he can still go at it with his mouth and fingers. You'll never catch him breathless after a few measly minutes.

[T] Toys He doesn't own any. He feels silly spending money on such things and using it on himself. But if it's for you; he'll gladly spend as much as he needs. He just doesn't see the appeal of using it on himself. Pocket pussies? Cock rings? Seems a bit ridiculous to him. But if you happen to own a vibe or two, he'll definitely use it. There's no harm in heightening your pleasure anyway. He's also chill with a bit of bondage rope and handcuffs. He's a bit iffy about using dildos though. Maybe it's because of his pride, but what's the use of it when you can have his dick instead?

[U] Unfair He's a tease without even trying. The snarky remarks that he makes comes out of his mouth naturally. "Oh, you're cumming again? You're too easy," and he'll say it with a straight face. Sometimes when you do ask him to fuck you faster, he'll ignore you on purpose. The man wants to hear you beg so nicely for him after being such a brat earlier. Although, he's surprisingly less of a tease as you'd expect.

[V] Volume Mostly grunts and groans. He claims that you will never hear him whimper, so of course, you make it your life's purpose to get him to whimper. It has yet to happen. And he does find it amusing that you think that you can make THE Sae Itoshi whimper like a bitch. Aside from that, the sounds he makes aren't so loud. He makes sure the grunts near your ear, containing it there. BUT, a little quirk of his is that he lets out a long sigh once he cums. It just feels so relieving that he can't help it anymore.

[W] Wild Card He thinks he'd bust right away sometimes whenever you stare up at him while you suck him off. Seeing you servicing him so eagerly while on your knees does things to his brain. It makes his ego swell like insane. "You're such a good girl, amor. You love me alot, don't you?" He'll wipe away the tears that threaten to fall because your jaw's so stretched out. Sae knows you're struggling a bit, but hang on for now and he'll reward you plenty afterwards.

[X] X-ray Not that girthy, but loooooong. He has quite a pretty dick, especially since he keeps it neat down there as well. It doesn't curve that much, but it is quite veiny. You can see the veins because of his pale complexion. There's one particularly thick vein that feels the best when rubbing against your walls. He's also cut, so you know that he has a light pink tip. Definitely a shower.

[Y] Yearning He's definitely more inclined to have sex than jacking off. That's because he'll actually make time for it. Sae will find ways to clear up his schedule or at least have more time with you—to have sex and to do things other than sex, of course. It's an odd, but helpful, trait of his that he can easily match the libido of his partner. Unless if his partner has an insanely high libido, then you'd probably have to find even ground. But again, it's not hard to get him into the mood. So if you initiate or ask him, more often than not—he'll get down and dirty with you in a heartbeat.

[Z] Zzz He doesn't fall asleep right away because, A) he needs to clean up and take care of you, and B) he just isn't tired enough. Don't get him wrong—good pussy pushes him to the edge, but being well-trained just helps him to not pass out immediately after busting. However, he will fall asleep right away once you're all cleaned up and the bed (which presumably got drenched) is all tidied up. Once you're sleeping soundly in his arms, he'll let himself be consumed by slumber as well.

❤︎ Overall: Sae's quite a good lover in that he puts effort and meaning into sex and that he's constantly improving. He genuinely cares about making it an activity both of you enjoy. 10/10 experience.

©kzyluvr do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note Actually a bit terrified that I might have butchered Sae Itoshi in this one

[megwritesriddles]

The First Move ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: A slightly disorganised account of being friends-with-benefits (or slightly more) with Spencer Reid.

Tags: Unprotected sex (birth control mentioned though), Creampie, P in V, Semi-public office sex, Fingering, Friends with Benefits, Secret relationship, Very minor hinted breeding kink (?), Awkward/Inexperienced!Spencer, Pining, Spencer Reid in glasses, Menstruation mention.

Word count: 3.7k

all fandom masterlist | cm masterlist | read it on ao3

Authors note: This will probably be my last fic for quite a while because all my final uni due dates are rapidly approaching and sadly I need to focus on them, I will be back tho... I feel like this has a weird structure but I'm prob just in my head about it lol... Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Spencer had never known what to answer when asked if he had a type, frustrated how regularly the question seemed to come up despite it being nobody's business but his own. His life had given him room for very few crushes over the years, in fact, for a long time in his teen years he had thought that sex and romance was uninteresting to him entirely, caught up in his studies and with no one age appropriate around to latch onto with his developing hormones. Sure, he saw pretty girls that caught his eye on occasion, but he was never around them enough to know if that feeling was anything more than aesthetic. He’d thought he was different from everyone else in this aspect as he was in most other ways, and had more or less come to terms with it, when it all changed. He hated change, even if this change made him more ‘normal’, and had been completely thrown off when he realised he could in fact experience crushes and arousal towards real women, rather than just fictional characters. It turned out, he had just been looking for something specific.

Now he knew what his ‘type’ was, but still had no answer to the question when asked, too embarrassed to admit it. He liked a woman who took charge, not to the point of a specific dynamic, but a confident woman who made the first moves. Perhaps it was a symptom of his insecurity, perhaps his general personality, but he found it very arousing when a woman took charge of him, showing unabashed interest and guiding him around. He wanted, deeply, to be wanted. You were just that, and deep down he’d known it from the moment he met you. Immediately, he was interested when he met you in the BAU meeting room, you being introduced as the newest member of the team. You were well-dressed and styled, but not to the point of standing out or being flashy, tasteful quality fabrics and an air of confidence most new recruits didn’t have. And, of course, you were insanely beautiful. 

For months, he did nothing about the crush he was harbouring on you. He didn’t have the confidence, and either way, you were coworkers, it would just get messy if you did get involved in some way. Yet, when you made the first move, all of Spencer’s worries flew out of the window.

“I like your shirt,” you smile wryly, sitting yourself on his desk in front of him, forcing his eyes upward away from the case files he’s reviewing. He flushes. The two of you are completely alone in the bullpen, not for the first time, both working overtime. It’s another thing he likes about you, similar dedication to the work. He clears his throat.

“Thanks,” he gives an awkward tightlipped smile, spinning his pen between his fingers. You smile back, tilting your head and tracing your eyes down the fabric. A subtle light purple floral print.

“Most guys wouldn’t wear something like that,” you hum. The comment makes him nervous.

“I- uh… I know it’s not very manly–” he stammers, flushed and embarrassed, assuming you were being backhanded. He knew he didn’t dress macho like someone like Morgan, but at various times he’d gone shopping and tried on more ‘manly’ outfits, he’d just felt so completely ridiculous and not himself, so had given up on it. He liked the clothes he wore, did it really matter what other people thought? They already found him weird either way. But when it was you saying it, suddenly it mattered more than ever.

“No! Reid!” A chuckle escapes your lips despite yourself. “I’m serious, I like it, it’s a compliment, it’s fun,” you reach out, running a fingertip over the sleeve, making his muscles tense a little. He swallows, averting his eyes for a moment before looking back at you.

“Sorry I… I’m used to people meaning the opposite of what they say… you know?” he laughs nervously, stopping himself from speaking further, watching your hand fall back to your side. You shrug.

“I always mean what I say, I don’t bother with games, it’s a great shirt,” A moment of silence passes as your eyes meet. Spencer can’t seem to stop himself opening his mouth again.

“And anyway… I certainly wouldn’t describe myself as fun, I’m like… the opposite of fun… I uh…” he voice dies away as his eyes follow your hand up to play with the small pendant on your necklace, drawing his attention to your cleavage. He’s sure you didn’t have so many buttons popped earlier today. He mentally berates himself for even having noticed that, but can’t seem to draw his eyes away from your chest, especially as you lean forward a little. You notice his wide eyes on you and it reminds you why you came over here in the first place.

“Do you like my shirt, Dr Reid?” you whisper, your voice low and sultry and immediately travelling down to his crotch. The question throws him off and he flounders, his mouth gaping for a moment, the pen stopping between his fingers. Lashes flutter as his eyes meet yours, praying he isn’t imagining the lust he sees there. Still, he’s too nervous he’s misinterpreting you. He cannot comment on your body, the last thing he wants to do is ever make you uncomfortable, so he stays somewhere safer, albeit, unconvincingly. 

“It’s a great… colour,” he smiles shakily. This seems to be the wrong answer, as your face falls a little in disappointment. For a moment, you think he’s rebuffed you, perhaps you’d been imagining his staring all this time and he really wasn’t interested. You shift your legs, preparing to hop off of his desk and leave him alone, when you spot his eyes darting to your thighs, Adam’s apple bobbing noticeably, eyes dark. Taking a great risk, you shift your legs again, spreading them just slightly, trying to cling onto your flimsy prospect of plausible deniability. His breath hitches, his eyes wide and laser-focused. The shadow of a bulge in his slacks as you glance down his body is all you need to finally stop beating around the bush. 

“You’re getting hard,” you state simply, keeping your word about not playing games. Spencer’s mouth falls open, completely in shock that you’ve said that to him. Though he hadn’t yet noticed it himself, he can’t really deny it, glancing down, it’s clear that it’s pretty unmistakable. Your directness turns him on, so when you reach down, your hand curling around his tie and pulling him forward, he goes more than willingly toward you, rising from his desk chair. “I could help you with it,” you whisper as his lips stop just before yours, a shaky breath washing over them. “If you want…” you add with a seductive purr. He nods an eager agreement, eyes closed and breaths shallow, moaning the instant your lips touch. It’s nervous, as many first kisses are, Spencer is a little shaky, needing you to guide him to stand between your legs. You play with the strands of hair by his ear, using them to keep him held close, though he isn't exactly trying to pull away. An uncertain hand cups your jaw and he draws your bottom lip into his mouth, sucking lightly. It’s the only move in his repertoire, but it works beautifully, drawing a soft sinful sound from your lips. He responds in kind, whining as both of your hands tangle into his hair. To him, it’s heaven. When you lie back, he barely allows his lips to disconnect from yours, following you down in desperation, propping himself over top of your body. As your legs wrap around his hips and pull him in, he’s done for.

The night turns into your first hook-up of many to come. You let him take you on his desk, finding his fumbling enthusiasm both endearing and sexy. He’s gentle and cautious, it’s obvious he’s nervous beyond belief, but you placate him with sweet words, and take the lead whenever you need to. He’s long, thin and slightly curved, his head falling into the crook of your neck with a loud moan as he bottoms out inside of you. The actual sex is over a little fast, this isn’t his first time, but it’s not far from it, combined with the fact the two of you are technically in public and that he’s having sex with you of all people, means he really has no hope lasting long. Honestly, he thinks it’s a miracle he lasted as long as he did. Breathless and apologetic, he tries to think what to do next. He’s no douchebag, he isn’t going to use you and disregard your pleasure, but he’s entirely unsure how to achieve your pleasure. In theory, yes, he knows everything about pleasing a woman from all the books he’s read in case of this situation. But it is so very different to be presented with the real thing. You don’t look like one of the clinical diagrams he’s used to seeing, and he’s not sure he’s entirely lucid after being allowed to come inside of you. Seeing his release dripping out of you doesn’t help. You giggle a little as you see his wide-eyed look, the gasp that leaves his lips.

“I think I’ve just discovered something about myself,” he confesses, pupils dilated as he thoughtlessly reaches up and uses his finger to push the release back into you. The moan you grant him tells him you liked the action as much as he did. He gets to work trying to recreate what he’s read in his books now that his hand is on you anyway. After a good while of figuring out your anatomy, he’s surprisingly deft with his fingers. You knew you’d always stared at his hands for a reason. You pull him down for a kiss as you come, very glad for your birth control.

He can’t quite believe he’s had sex with you, sitting completely dazed on the metro on the way home afterward. He’d never done something so wild, with so little forethought or discussion, in his life. He certainly can’t bring himself to regret anything. Despite making very sure with you that no evidence was left behind, he was anxious, convinced that everyone would somehow know what had happened on his desk when they came into work the next day. He replays the encounter over and over in his head once he’s at home in his bed, never so grateful for his eidetic memory. Part of him wants to call you, but he just can’t get himself to.

It was nearly a month before you hooked up again, much to both of your chagrin. You had been waiting around for him to invite you to his apartment or something but slowly came to realise it wasn’t going to happen. He was still too nervous around you, more so than before, despite what you had done together. Constantly stuttering and wringing his hands when talking to you about a case, staring longingly across the bullpen and following you around like a lost puppy when on a case together. With his behaviour as it was, it was a testament to his professionalism that he was able to focus on the cases at all, but whenever there was a quiet moment, it was back to you. It amused you that no one on the team had figured out what had happened, just assuming Spencer’s little crush had got worse, always shocked how you managed to stay ‘oblivious’. He brought you coffee, carried your go-bag onto the plane for you, always hanging around you afterward for a while, staring at you shyly and waiting. But he never once dared to make the first move.

Eventually, you get sick of his pining and you just invite yourself to his apartment, catching up to him as he leaves work and threading your arm through his, taking the metro with him. He seems over the moon, chattering with nervous excitement to you as you walk from the metro station to his apartment. Once inside, you push him backwards into his bedroom, causing him to fall back on the bed. You hop up to straddle him and he’s never been so aroused in his life. He sounds so whiny and eager as you ride him, more than happy to be with you again and bring you pleasure in any way he can. By the end of that night, he knew he was addicted to you with no going back. When you fall asleep in his bed, he spends a long time just looking at you and stroking your cheek. You are beautiful and he is falling for you, but he doesn’t know what to say or do about it.

From then on, you invite yourself over at least once a week, if not more, walking arm in arm with him to and from the metro station, spending the nights blowing his mind and ever entwining yourself into his life for several months. You’d even hooked up in the employee bathrooms at work at one point, but had immediately decided not to do it again when Penelope nearly caught you. It had been fun nonetheless. Sneaking into his hotel room when out on a case was another common way to initiate, so common that Spencer had just started texting you his room number as soon as the team got to a given hotel, knowing you would come visit him once everyone else was in their rooms and not likely to catch you sneaking to him.

In a matter of moments from entering his room, you’re guiding him backwards toward the bed as you kiss feverishly, struggling to kick off your shoes before hopping up into his lap like normal. He hums happily, his large hands settling on your hips, fingers flexing anxiously, still not quite used to your physicality despite the months of hook-ups. He leans back against the headboard, looking up at you with a slightly awed expression. The heat was already rising between you, leading you to shrug off the robe you’d wrapped around yourself for your way here, letting it fall to the floor. Spencer twitches beneath you as the clear outline of your breasts, and your nipples which are pebbled from the cold, come into view. Yet, he doesn’t try to pounce on you like most guys might, just giving a shaky smile and running a tender hand up your side. You smile back, cupping his cheek and running your thumb over the cheekbone.

“Have I ever told you I like your glasses?” you muse. He puffs out a laugh.

“Once, when I first started wearing them, but I didn’t believe you,” he chuckles and you do too.

“Well, I do like them, they make you look cute,” You place a kiss on his cheek, trailing toward his jaw. He laughs once more, though more unstable now, tilting his head to give you access. 

“I don’t think I get called cute all that much,” he jokes, eyes meeting yours as you pull away to look at him.

“You should be, you’re a total cutie,” you tease, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his lips which he eagerly reciprocates, his fingers twitching, debating moving somewhere else. “The,” kiss. “Cutest,” another kiss. “Ever,” you smile against his lips. He smiles back, a hand sliding up your back and pulling you closer to press against his body. You were so complimentary lately, it made his head spin. Your hands move up, gently removing his glasses as they press into you uncomfortably when the two of you kiss. “It’s a shame, they really do something for me,” you smirk as you fold them closed. He reaches out to stop you, taking the glasses from you and slipping them onto your face. You blink, trying to adjust to the blurriness of his prescription. He takes the sight of you in for a moment before dramatically wrinkling his nose. 

“Yeah, not your look,” you gasp and smack his arm lightly, making him laugh.

“You total ass!” 

“I’m kidding, you look as adorable as ever, it’s unfair, how can you make everything work?” he squeezes your side. You roll your eyes, taking off the glasses and placing them in the open glasses case on his nightstand. He watches you, rubbing your sides slowly. “Do the glasses really do something for you?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah, I don’t really know why, they just do,” you shrug, sitting back up properly in his lap, shifting your hands to rub his chest through his pyjama shirt. “Anything that I wear do it for you?”

“Everything,” he grins. You laugh.

“I’m being serious!” you prod his chest.

“So am I! Seriously, whenever I’m around you it’s like… I’m one whiff of your shampoo away from getting hard,” he confesses, a quiet and slightly nervous laugh puffing out of his chest. Of course, he knows you must have noticed this by now, but actually confessing to it aloud feels a little pathetic. He’s just so… enamored with you. You tilt your head, staring down at him.

“You’re such a horny little freak,” you giggle, cupping his chin and leaning down to give him a kiss. “I would have never guessed it when we first met,” he laughs against your lips, shifting your hips against his so you’re sitting comfortably.

“You must bring it out of me, I wasn’t like this before,” he retorts a little nervously. He’s still a bit unsure around you, worried that he’s going to say the wrong thing and scare you away forever, but every day it gets a little easier. You get a little closer to him and don’t get scared away when you see the ugly. It feels so good it hurts.

Like the other week when you’d come home with him, only for his mother’s sanitarium to call while you’d been making out on his couch. It had only been to inform him about some medication changes, but the fact they’d called him had freaked him out. He tried so hard not to cry, it was ridiculous, nothing was even wrong, he wanted to be strong for you, but the tears had come anyway. Instead of finding him odd, or sitting and awkwardly waiting for it to pass, you’d soothed him for a bit, stroking his hair, and then endeavoured to distract him. You’d put on a documentary for him and made him some tea, sitting in his lap while he calmed down and watched the documentary. He’d felt like a big baby, but it felt good to be cared for. You’d left his apartment that night without getting what you’d come there for, but you never seemed upset, being your normal teasing self the next day at work, twisting his tie around your hand when you’d caught him alone by the coffee machines, taunting him by pretending you were going to kiss him and pulling back. He’d been able to steal a kiss later that day by hanging back to pack up after a meeting. When he’d apologised for the previous night, you’d just said you were glad he was okay. He blinks rapidly as you snap your fingers in front of his face.

“Spence? Where’d you go? You like… glazed over,” you pout. He smiles sheepishly, reaching up to push a hair out of your face.

“I was just thinking about you,” he admits. You huff. 

“I’m right here! You don’t have to think about me!”

“I know, I know, sorry, just got lost in my thoughts,” he pulls you closer so your chests are pressed together, pecking your forehead and taking a subtle whiff of your hair. The scent seems to immediately lower his blood pressure, you just made him feel safe these days, he wished he could stop being so nervous and just enjoy things. “You mean the world to me,” he whispers in an effort to do just that. The words make you pause, you don’t really expect them, but they warm your heart to no end. 

“You mean the world to me too,” you rest your forehead to his for a quiet moment. His eyes close and he drinks up your words and your closeness. One day, and it would be soon, he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend. It was a terrifying prospect and the idea that you might say no was so painful it was physical, but he had to do it. More and more often he almost finds himself blurting out that he loves you, and if he’s going to tell you that, it’s going to be on purpose. Probably with flowers and chocolate-covered strawberries, or maybe running through an airport if the movies he’d been watching for inspiration were anything to go by. However he decided to do it, it would have to be special, prove that he cared for you without a shadow of a doubt, and hopefully aid in making you fall for him. Part of him just wished you’d say it first, like you did with most things, but there wasn’t really any telling if you felt that way. You’d been different with him lately, and he hoped it wasn’t too optimistic to consider you might feel the same as he did. Your head shifted to his shoulder and your body melted onto his, clearly assuming that tonight would be a cuddling night. You’d done this a few times now, after particularly scarring cases or when you were on your period, it wasn’t really usual friends-with-benefits stuff, but in your line of work, a little cuddle was often very much needed, so was justifiable. He turns his head to kiss your forehead again.

“Don’t give up on me just yet,” he whispers, hoping to sound lighthearted. 

“Yeah?” you ask quietly, looking up at him as he looks down to meet your eyes. “I’m not giving up,” you whisper, kissing his jaw a few times. The words have deeper meaning to Spencer and he takes a shaky breath.

“I just may need you to make the first move,” he smiles, shifting to face you. You smile simply.

“What’s new?”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

taglist: @i-live-in-spite , @raysmayhem-72

xoxoxo

[hotchnerwrites]

Hi hi hi my babyy🤍🤍

First I want to apologize for appearing until now, life has become severely difficult :( How have you been? How is everything going?🫂

So now I'm someone's controversial young girlfriend🙇🏻‍♀️(it's not as many years difference as it sounds) and that gave me an idea with my favorite man🫠

What if Hotch and the reader have this mutual desire but Hotch doesn't approach the reader because her's younger and the reader doesn't approach him because her's afraid of rejection But one night maybe they share a kiss or a light touch that makes Hotch close himself off more and discourages the reader:( and finally when they go on a case the one from the head office who is Hotch's age flirts with the reader and she reciprocates first because she is single and second because she really loves that her couples are older 😮‍💨 and Aaron gets really jealous because he 'thought he was the only one' and that tension finally falls apart when he confronts her and she simply tells him that the head of the department is some kind of distraction about her crush on Hotch 🫠

The truth is that in the end I didn't know how to develop the idea, I'm sure you can do it better, I hope it was understood. 😭🙏🏻

As always take it only if you feel comfortable (and understand it) I send you all my love, I'm excited to be here again I'm not going to lie about it!!🥹💗💗

xoxoxo

-👩🏻‍🦰

Unspoken

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: SFW, jealous!hotch, mutual pining, angst, sort of happy ending, making out, no use of (y/n),

A/N: HIIII LOVELY, missed seeing you in my requests. things have been crazy on my end ngl 😭 moved cities, broke my teeth, med exams etc. god is testing me rn smhhhh. and congratulations on your new relationship!!!! so happy for you <3 (totally not jealous 😔/s) anyways, kind of went crazy on this request, LOOOOVED the idea so much. i wanted this man suffering in the fic lmaooo. anyways, here you go!!! hope you like it, and it's what you wanted!!! sending u all my love 💚

PS. Let me know if the formatting is off. It's wonky on my laptop but not my phone for whatever reasons.

My requests are open. Send me stuff! :)

There had always been something there.

Unacknowledged, simmering beneath longing glances and fleeting touches. An almost magnetic pull between you and Aaron— felt by both, acted on by neither. It existed in the quiet spaces between conversations, the way he positioned himself beside you during briefings, in the way his hand would almost touch the small of your back before withdrawing at the last second.

But that something was fated to remain unspoken. Unmentioned.

And that had been Aaron’s choice, not yours.

You never pushed him. Not when you caught his gaze lingering, not when he brought you coffee and no one else, not when he gave you his coat on cold nights without a word, not even when— after a particularly hard case— you had found yourself in the dimly lit hallway of a motel, wrapped up in his arms, listening to his uneven heartbeat like he was battling something within himself. 

For a second, you had let yourself hope. This had to be it. His breaking point.

But then he had pulled away. 

And the next day? He shut you out completely.  He didn’t meet your eyes in the briefing. He stopped those wordless gestures you had learned to find comfort in. His usual attentiveness toward you, the way he always ensured you were comfortable… was gone. He was probably more attentive towards Reid.

So, it became obvious. You adapted like you always did. You drew the line in the sand and stuck to your side. The conversations became strictly professional, words clipped but polite. You stopped bringing him a cup of coffee if he lingered in the bullpen late at night. On long flights home, he stopped offering you the seat next to him.

Even the team noticed.

Rossi had given Hotch a Look more than once, his stare heavy with disappointment. JJ asked if you were okay, and even Morgan had thrown out a casual, “What’s going on with you two?”

You vehemently denied everything. Everything was fine. Everything was normal.

What else could you have said? That you wanted Aaron? That you had spent months convincing yourself he had wanted you, too? That, in the end, he had rejected it— no, he had denied you— not even with words, but with distance?

You knew you deserved better. You deserved someone who would be proud to love you. Someone who wasn’t scared of the possibility of a relationship.

So, you moved on.

———

Then came Baltimore. 

Michael Keating was confident, charismatic, and older. He was the Chief of the Baltimore Division, respected and soft-spoken. He carried himself with ease, joked about the growing silver streak in his hair, and greeted everyone by name. He made people laugh and asked about their day.

And he noticed you. 

It started small. A compliment on your profiling. Deferring to you when asked about the unsub. 

You hadn’t meant to encourage it. But then again— why refuse yourself? You had spent too long pining for something that wasn’t meant to happen. You were single, and you wanted a change. And Michael was perfect.

Keating was different. He was direct in a way Hotch never was. He didn’t hesitate to place a hand on your lower back as he showed you around the precinct. He leaned in when he spoke to you, close enough that you could smell his cologne. He smelled like the ocean— sea salt and sandalwood.

But there was something about Michael that reminded you of Aaron. The little things. The way his voice softened when he said your name. The way he listened— giving you his rapt attention, something Hotch always did, but only ever with you.

Nevertheless, Keating wasn’t Hotch. And you weren’t going to let yourself draw baseless comparisons. So you let him flirt with you. It felt good to be seen. When he brought you your morning coffee, you accepted gratefully, smiling up at him. When he leaned in and said something low and teasing, you laughed.

That was when you felt it.

A prickle at the back of your neck. Someone watching.

You didn’t deign to turn, but you knew. 

Aaron.

For a second you felt suffocated. But the feeling was gone as swiftly as it had come. When you finally joined your team, Hotch was talking with García, and he didn’t even spare you a glance.

For the rest of the day, you pretended that it hadn’t affected you as much as it did. You maintained your professional façade, breaking only once when Michael slid you a sticky note with a silly doodle on it. Everything went well. Or so you thought.

Hotch brushed past you with nothing more than a curt “Excuse me” as he entered the meeting room. His voice held a subtle undercurrent of knowing, but you brushed it off. It just wasn’t your problem any longer.

But when Keating pulled out your chair for you, you felt it again— the prickling.

Hotch walked out of the room.

Emily noticed. 

“Whatever it is,” she muttered as you watched Hotch’s back disappear down the hallway, “you two need to sort it out before it affects the case.”

You know she’s right. But you can’t bring yourself to answer. What was there to say?

Aaron had no right to feel this way. He had his chance. If he wanted you, he should have said so. But he didn’t, instead, he turned tail and ran.

And you weren’t going to sit around waiting for him to come to.

————

The bar had emptied, the rest of the team long since in their rooms. You had stayed a bit longer, letting the bite of your drink settle into your bones. You needed it after the week you’d had. Michael had apologised profusely when you’d invited him; he had to meet with the prosecutor. After the initial sting of disappointment, you were glad that he wasn’t here. You needed some space from it all. You let your mind disconnect from the world, letting the faint hum of the music take over.

Which is why you weren’t prepared when Aaron cornered you. 

“Keating?” His tone was level as if asking you about the weather. But the way his hands were clenched tight told you a different story. “That’s who you want?”

Your stomach twisted, almost painfully.

Not this. Not this conversation, not after months of silent torture, months of being ignored, months of being treated like nothing.

“What does it matter to you?” You retorted, rolling your eyes. Fatigue seeped into your voice that had nothing to do with the case. “You don’t get to ask me that, Aaron.”

Something flickered in his eyes when you said his name. Maybe it reminded him of how you used to say it with warmth.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. “Didn’t think he was your type.”

A short, humourless laugh escaped you. “My type?” You shook your head vigorously. “I didn’t realise I needed your opinion on that. You’ve barely acknowledged my existence this month.”

Hotch’s shoulders tensed. “That’s not—”

“Not what? Not fair?” Your eyes burned, “You pushed me away. You didn’t even ask how I felt. You chose for both of us and now you’re— what? Upset I’ve moved on?”

“That’s not what this is.”

“Enlighten me, then,” you snap, anger hiding the fact that you were begging for an answer, one you knew he’d never give.

Nothing. As expected. The silence between you stretched on. You didn’t know what you had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. All of a sudden, the atmosphere of the bar became a little too much. The stench of stale beer overpowered your nose and the tinny audio from the jukebox irked you. You slid off the barstool and threw a couple of crumpled bills on the counter.

Then, barely above a whisper, you heard him rasp, “I thought I was the only one.”

A punch to your chest might have hurt less. 

Your breath stuttered, heart aching at the confession that settled in the space between you. He was falling apart, and you could see it—the way his brows drew together, the way his throat bobbed as he tried to force out something he wasn’t ready to say.

And for the first time, you saw the truth for what it was.

Aaron Hotchner was a man who carried too much. Who loved too hard and too quietly. Who convinced himself that his feelings were a burden he couldn’t afford, even when he was faced with the enormity of it.

But he wanted.

God, he wanted.

And it terrified him.

A bitter laugh escaped you. How could he? No, how dare he expect you to hold on to the idea that you were his when he kept you at a distance further than the rest of the team? That no one else could want you the way he did?

“You could have been, Aaron,” you responded, the weight of the world suddenly crushing you. “But you were the one who made sure you weren’t.”

Something in him shattered. You could tell. The way he flexed his hand, the way his posture stiffened like he was dealing with a blow he wasn’t ready to receive.

“Why are you doing this, to me?” Hotch’s voice was hoarse, thick with emotion— anger, regret, longing and want all tangled together.

“I’m doing this to you?” Your voice wavered, and you hated yourself for it, “Hotch, do you even hear yourself right now?”

He stepped closer, crowding your space, eyes dark with something desperate. “I tried—” He dragged a shaky hand through his hair, “ I tried to stay away. I thought it was the right thing.”

“Right thing for who? It sure as hell wasn’t right for me,” you jabbed an accusatory finger into his chest, ignoring the slight tremble, “You shut me out. You acted like nothing was there, like I had imagined everything.” Your voice cracked, “And now I get to deal with you being jealous because Michael actually sees me? Because he’s not afraid to show me wants me?”

A muscle in Aaron’s jaw fluttered as he repeated, “I told you, it’s not about that.”

“Oh, wasn’t it?” you cried, anger building, “You wanted me to wait for you? To exile myself in the dark and hope that maybe one day you’d stop being afraid of us? That’s not fair, Aaron. I can’t do that to myself. I deserve better.”

“I know.” His voice cracked on the words, and for the first time, you saw the raw emotion on his face— all of it. The weight of it, the struggle in his eyes, the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t know if he had the right.

The anger ebbs out of you, replaced with something numb.

“Then why? Why didn’t you—”

Aaron moved then. He reached for you before he could stop himself, finger ghosting over your wrist before settling there, gripping gently. The heat of his fingers burned, like something he had been starving for but denied himself for too long.

“Because… I wanted you. Too much,” he admitted, voice grating like it pained him. His grip tightened on your wrist, thumb tracing the delicate skin. “I was afraid that if I let myself have this— you— I wouldn’t know how to stop.”

It was cruel, really. How he could unravel you with his words, make you forget about the months of pain and anger and hurt you’d endured. Even the way he looked at you like you were someone he couldn’t bear to lose.

“Aaron—”

Whatever you were about to say was swallowed up by his lips on yours. 

It wasn’t anything like the countless times you’d imagined it. You had always figured he’d be gentle, taking his time.

But this wasn’t soft, nor was it careful. This was desperate.

Like he was a man at his breaking point, like someone who had wasted time denying everything, only to give in all at once. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing across your cheeks as he tilted your head, deepening the kiss. He was pressed flush against you, sandwiching you between the barstool and his body like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers like sand. In the back of your mind, you faintly registered the whir of the jukebox as it changed the track.

You gasped against Aaron, and that tiny sound undid him. He groaned softly, tilting his head to chase you, to taste more, to lose himself in a way he had always wanted but never permitted.

You breathed in his scent, bourbon and coffee, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. You were anchoring yourself because this was everything you had been waiting for. 

The kiss lingered, months of tension evaporating between you, the space that had existed suddenly gone, replaced by something breathless and real. You pushed back against him, ready to get your heart’s desire. Aaron didn’t stop; he was kissing you as if it was the last thing he would ever do. He tasted heavenly, much better than you’d ever imagined. Every thought eddied out of your mind as you let the feeling of his lips against yours wash over you. Even before the moment was over, you knew that this memory would be branded into your soul. 

When Aaron finally pulled away, he didn’t go too far. You sucked in a ragged breath and squeezed your eyes closed as he rested his forehead against yours. His breathing was uneven too, and you could feel the warmth of it against your lips. Then, slowly, his hands dropped from your face. He took a step back— reluctantly— just enough to reach up and loosen his tie. 

His fingers scrabbled at the knot for a moment before he wrenched it down forcefully. He then ran his hands through his hair again, mussing it in a way you’d never seen before, and let out a breathless laugh. For a split second, memories of the night when he had held you close flashed before your eyes. He had loosened his tie then, too, before enveloping you in his embrace. 

“I don’t want to be the one who let you get away,” Aaron whispered, his voice bringing you back to the present. 

The pain in your chest throbbed. At how broken and hopeful he sounded, all at once.

“Aaron,” you murmured, letting his name rest on your tongue for a moment too long.

“I—” he stopped, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe himself. This wasn’t where he had thought the night would go. You watched Aaron carefully, his chest still rising and falling too quickly. You reached for his hand, squeezing it once. 

“Aaron,” you uttered his name again, tone firmer, hoping to bring him back to you.

He looked at you then, chocolate brown eyes hardening with resolve. He started, “This… us…”

You cut him off, then. 

“Aaron,” you repeat, brushing your fingers over his jaw, “You need to choose. Me, us. Everything. You have to choose to stay.”

He glanced off to the side somewhere. Then, a slow exhale. A quiet moment of realisation.

He met your gaze again, almost bashfully this time, “If you’ll still have me.”

You laughed then, disbelieving because, of course, Aaron would say that, as if your heart hadn’t been his since the first time you saw him.

Neither of you spoke then. The past, the hurt, the hesitation— but also the possibility— swam through the charged atmosphere.

The choice.

“Okay,” you said simply.

When Aaron pulled you into his chest, you let him.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[xjulixred45x]

I think in the Parent Yuu and Baby au, i imagined that Yuu would leave/entrust the baby in the care of the students with experience with (younger) siblings and relatives or kids: Trey, Jack, Epel (maybe he has a big family), Jamil, Kamil, Lilia (having heard he helped take care of Malleus when young and maybe Malleus, Silver, and Sebek pitch in to wonder how was it like when Lilia took care of all of them in the past), Rook (yes he has siblings), and Idia plus Ortho. Maybe a scenario(s) of their day and experiences in babysitting.

Babysitting Yuu's Baby

This would happen when Yuu has to go to an event where she can't take her daughter (such as Glorious Masquerade, PlayfullLand, or Coral Sea), specifically asking the characters not involved in the story to babysit the baby while she's away.

There are certain characters who directly offer without hesitation, either because of their good relationship with Yuu or because of their experience caring for siblings/young children, such as Lilia, Kalim, and Rook. The others have to be formally asked to see if they can and WANT to do it.

Lilia is by far the calmest, despite all his babysitting experience vven in pressure or crisis situations, he remains calm and cheerful, even trying to make others laugh about the situation (such as when something catches fire while he tries to warm up milk for the baby). But don't worry, he still has out-of-this-world reflexes and parental instincts; he can catch the baby before it hits the ground or almost telepathically sense that it's about to do something she shouldn't (e.g., putting a fork in an electrical outlet).

Rook is another one who constantly and "discreetly" watches over the baby, and he narrates everything she does as if the baby were the protagonist of a fairy tale. He's definitely the best at reading stories or making them up at nap time; his voice seems to relax the baby quite a bit (it also helps stop her from crying or distract her when she gets fussy). Another one with incredible reflexes, and he's definitely avoided several incidents caused by the deteriorating bedroom (seriously consider talking to Yuu about it...).

Trey definitely does the thing of putting the baby in a baby carrier (either on his chest or on his back) while he cooks and hums, which puts the baby to sleep pretty quickly (to everyone's amazement). He has practically infinite patience, even if the baby is a picky eater (I mean, he's been dealing with Riddle for years), and he has the muscle memory to deal with babies, which Yuu's baby is nothing compared to what he has faced.

Epel is the secret weapon for when the baby won't eat what Trey makes for her. All it takes is a couple of apples, a knife, and BOOM! The baby is devouring different animals in apple shapes. Epel is the kind of babysitter who likes to play a little rough with the baby, whether it's pretend wrestling, being the knight who slays the dragon (with lots of gory details), and generally likes to indulge her in things other kids wouldn't normally let her.

Jamil is another one who helps in the kitchen, and he's the strictest about maintaining some sort of routine for the baby (whether she has one or not, he believes it's important and good for her development). He makes sure Trey doesn't cook only sweet things (or at least alternate them with nutritious and healthy ones) or sneaks candy to the baby. They both keep Lilia away from the stove or anything that produces fire. He's a bit tense when it comes to holding the baby, but he lets her play with his braids when he's tired.

Kalim is the one in charge of keeping the baby occupied most of the time while the others take care of Ramshackle. They both have a lot of energy, so Kalim is the only one on her level. They do everything: Kalim acts like he's a horse and the baby ride him, lifts her up in the air (NO MAGIC CARPET, Jamil almost has a heart attack), Kalim picks her up and pretends the baby is dancing, even sings her a few songs from The Boiling Sands (he's definitely given the baby crackers when no one's looking, don't worry! The baby actually likes them).

Jack is by far the one who takes babysitting duties most seriously, maybe too seriously. He's probably the one who handles the most tedious baby-related tasks, things like getting her up in the morning, feeding her at night, bathing her, cleaning her up after she's eaten (and dirtying most of the table and her clothes in the process), changing her diapers, etc. He's surprisingly good at these tasks despite his sensitive nose, but that's because his younger siblings are still young, so he probably still has the muscle memory for these things fresh. The others have to force him to take a break or alternate with another of their own.

Idia is definitely the least suitable and at the same time the most suitable to leave with a baby. Again, he has no problem leaving supplies or bringing things to make things easier, but interacting with the baby? No, he's going to ruin it somehow. He can interact with the baby through the screen and even put on some cartoon series that's good for her, but when they put her on his lap (the few times he goes to ramshackle) he freezes, but at the same time he accepts his fate and doesn't move when the baby falls asleep (even if she drools on his sweatshirt; he didn't even like that one anyway).

Ortho, bless him, is the one who usually takes over to do the chores no one else wants to do when babysitting, basically a second Jack, but happier. Every time the baby wakes up in the middle of the night, he does a general check-in to make sure everything's okay. I imagine he can manually warm the milk himself, or play lullabies when the baby can't sleep, so he ends up being a very practical babysitter, lol.

In short, the baby is in good hands. I'd just be worried that the kids don't kill each other or that Lilia burns down the house trying to cook something.

________

(ESPAÑOL)

Esto pasaría cuando Yuu tiene que ir a algún evento en el cual no puede llevar a su hija (como el de Glorious Masquerade, PlayfullLand o Coral Sea, justamente pidiéndole a los personajes que no participen en la historia que cuidaran de la beba mientras ella no estaba.

Hay ciertos personajes que directamente se ofrecen sin dudarlo, ya sea por su buena relación con Yuu o por la experiencia que tienen con cuidar hermanitos/niños pequeños, como Lilia, Kalim y Rook. Los demás hay que preguntarles formalmente para saber si pueden y QUIEREN hacerlo.

Lilia es de por lejos es más tranquilo con toda la experiencia de niñero, incluso en situaciones de presión o crisis se mantiene tranquilo y alegre, incluso trata de hacer reír a los demás de la situación (como, por ejemplo, cuando algo se incendia cuando el intenta calentar la leche para la beba). Pero no te preocupes, sigue teniendo reflejos fuera de este mundo e instintos de padre, puede atrapar al bebe antes de que toque el suelo o sentir casi telepáticamente que est�� a punto de hacer algo que no debería (ejemplo; poner un tenedor en el tomacorriente).

Rook es otro que está constantemente vigilando a la beba de forma “discreta”, aparte de que narra absolutamente todo lo que hace como si la bebe fuera la protagonista de un cuento de hadas. Definitivamente el mejor a la hora de leerle cuentos o inventarlos a la hora de la siesta, parece que su voz relaja bastante al bebe (también funciona para que deje de llorar o distraerla cuando se pone quisquillosa). Otro con reflejos increíbles y definitivamente ha evitado varios incidentes causados por lo deteriorado que esta el dormitorio (considera seriamente hablar con Yuu al respecto...)

Trey definitivamente hace lo de poner a la beba en un porta-bebes (ya sea en su pecho o en su espalda) mientras cocina y tararea, lo cual pone a la beba a dormir bastante rápido (para el asombro de todos). Tiene una paciencia prácticamente infinita incluso si la beba es quisquillosa con la comida(digo, lidio con Riddle por años--) y tiene memoria muscular para lidiar con bebes, la bebe de Yuu no es nada.

Epel es el arma secreta para cuando la beba no quiere comer lo que le hace Trey, solo necesita un par de manzanas, un cuchillo y BOOM, la beba está devorando diferentes animales o formitas de manzana. Epel es el tipo de niñero que le gusta jugar de forma un poco más “ruda” con la beba, ya sea pretendiendo jugar a la lucha libre, ser el caballero que mata al dragon (con muchos detalles sangrientos) y en general le gusta consentirla en cosas que normalmente el resto de chicos no le dejarían.

Jamil es otro que ayuda en la cocina, y es el más estricto en mantener una especie de rutina para la beba (ya sea que la tenga o no, cree que es importante y bueno para su desarrollo), se asegura que Trey no cocine solo cosas dulces (o que al menos se intercalen con cosas nutritivas y sanas) o le pase caramelos a escondidas al bebe. Ambos alejan a Lilia de la estufa o cualquier cosa que produzca fuego. Es algo tenso a la hora de cargar a la beba, pero deja que juegue con sus trenzas cuando está cansado.

Kalim es quien se encarga de mantener distraída a la bebe la mayoría del tiempo mientras los demás se encargan de cuidar ramshackle, ambos tienen mucha energía, por lo que Kalim es el único a su nivel. Hacen de todo, Kalim actúa como si fuera un caballo, la alza por los aires (SIN ALFOMBRA MAGICA, a Jamil casi le da un infarto), Kalim la levanta y pretende que la bebe baila, incluso le canta algunas canciones de Las Arenas Hirvientes (definitivamente le ha dado a la beba crackers cuando nadie está viendo ¡tranquilos! Al bebe en realidad le gustan).

Jack es de por lejos el que se toma la tarea de niñero más enserio, talvez demasiado en serio. Probablemente es quien se encarga de las tareas más engorrosas relacionadas a la beba, cosas como levantarla en la mañana, darle de comer en la noche, bañarla, limpiarla después de que comió (y ensucio la mayor parte de la mesa y su ropa en el proceso), cambiarle los pañales, etc. Es sorprendentemente bueno en esas tareas pese a su nariz sensible, pero se debe a que sus hermanos menores siguen siendo pequeños, por lo que probablemente sigue teniendo fresca la memoria muscular de estas cosas. Los demás tienen que forzarlo a darse un descanso o intercalar con otro de ellos.

Idia definitivamente es el menos adecuado y al mismo tiempo el más adecuado para dejar con un bebe. De nuevo, él no tiene problema en dejar suministros o traer cosas para hacer todo más fácil ¿pero interactuar con la beba? No, va a arruinarlo de alguna forma. Él puede interactuar con la beba a través de la pantalla e incluso poner alguna serie de caricaturas que sea buena para ella, pero cuando la ponen en su regazo (en las pocas veces que va a ramshackle) él se congela, pero al mismo tiempo acepta su destino y no se mueve cuando la bebe se duerme (incluso si babea en su sudadera, ni siquiera le gustaba esa de todos modos).

Ortho, bendito sea, es quien suelen relevar para que haga las tareas que nadie quiere hacer cuando cuidan a la beba, básicamente un segundo Jack pero más alegre. Cada vez que la bebe se despierta en medio de la noche, el hace un chequeo general para asegurarse de que todo esté bien. Me imagino que puede calentar manualmente la leche el mismo, o poniendo canciones de cuna cuando la beba no puede dormir, por lo que termina siendo un niñero muy práctico lol.

En conclusión, la beba esta en buenas manos, solo me preocuparía que los chicos no se maten entre si o que Lilia incendie la casa tratando de cocinar algo.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[vyyper]

a little too shy to ask this off anon but mydei with a scholarly wife hcs please 🥺🥺

Mydei with a Scholarly S/O

a/n: hi anon! i know you said wife but i just went along with the flow as i wrote and it ended up gn, i hope that's still alright! i enjoyed this request a lot :)

mostly fluff, written with the pre 3.1 setting in mind

-i think a scholarly partner is just so so perfect for mydei. he values knowledge highly and knowing that you are in constant pursuit of it makes him so happy for you!! definitely your #1 supporter.

-he'd tell you about kremnoan history and culture, if you show interest. he tries not to let it slip too much but it excites him. it's important to him that people know, that this information doesn't fade, and he'll be reassured knowing someone like you has this knowledge

-he'd love to let you use his library, read all the books within together, nothing but the pages and each other to pass the time. perhaps in a kinder life, but he's still more than content reading with you now. if he has the time, one of his favorite things to do with you is read in silence. perhaps he'll cook some warm stew, and you'll sit together, reading, occasionally sipping from your bowls in comfortable, affectionate silence.

-will let you ramble about anything and everything! he's always willing to lend an ear and try and help you out with whatever research you may be doing, as much as he can. he's definitely a good listener, quiet unless you ask for input and what input he gives is helpful and to the point. it's one of his favorite things to do, listens to you with the fondest look in his eyes, like you're the center of the universe. people whisper about the cold glare mydeimos has on his face before he strikes down and enemy, but they've never seen how mydei's eyes burn with warmth as he listens to his beloved.

-additonally, after bringing up a new subject you notice him with a book about it in his hand sometimes...wants to learn about it with you so he can supply help if you need any. and the fact that you make anything interesting to him, you make him want to learn even more than before.

-refuses to let you overwork though, don't even try you'll break his heart...his duties already keep him away from you, the last thing he'd want is for you to let your health spiral in what time he gets with you. if you're losing sleep and forgetting meals, he'll cook you a whole feast and let you rant out all your stress before dragging you to bed. he'll rub your shoulders and tell you not to do something like that again, not to worry him, hold you as you sleep. if he's away he'll reluctantly get your friends to check on him regularly. he understands the importance of privacy and trusts you can be responsible...but he does worry, and he wants to make sure.

also on the topic of him wanting to read because of you...he knows how to interpret poetry, so i think he'd read romance poems and be reminded of you, feel the emotions they describe, maybe even pick up ways to show affection towards you from them since kremnoans don't even have a word for love.

wait i have this vision of him carrying you. you joke that you're too tired to get up from where you're working at in hopes it'll sway him and he blinks before picking you up like you weigh nothing and setting you down on the couch or bed. you're too shocked to say anything. he watches your expression with a faint and teasing smile, both at your shock and at the fact that he's gotten you away from your work.

-adding onto how he likes hearing you talk, i think after a very long day or so he'll return home, slump into bed. he doesn't mean to wake you up but if he does, he'll apologize before reluctantly asking you just talk to him, about any developments in your studies or anything else you want to talk about. your voice calms him and he'll listen to you until he feels you starting to drift off, the soft pattern of your breaths in sleep calming him further.

-early on in your relationship, before you're married, he tells you one day that there is no word for love in the kremnoan language. you think you see hints of regret on his face, guilt in his tone. so you smile and tell him the word for "love" in yours. i love you.

you don't expect him to use it often, at first. although he's warmed up around you, you assume that saying such a thing must be difficult for him. but tell him how to say it and he'll repeat it everyday. "i love you," he says back after you tell him, once to test the sound on his tongue, and then again to affirm the words you . his tone is unwavering, unlike your slightly nervous one, like the words are something already deeply engraved in his mind he's just recovered. "i love you," he murmurs as you drift off, on a rare night where he gets to rest with you in his arms. "i love you," he declares, kissing your knuckles before ending his show of affection with a press lips to your ring, holding your wrist gently.

he wants you to remember it always. he'll be bound to you forever and always; he never wants to let go, and he'll be sure to remind you of it.

[speechless-illusions]

I kept seeing people on Tiktok saying "Suzanne ended Hayffie" "I'm proud I never shipped them" and even trying to flip the narrative and bring the age difference discourse and the "she met him when he was a minor!!" cards to try and make the ship become "problematic" and tie it to the recent "ship police/purity" witch hunt (ironic, after reading a whole book about the dangers of propaganda) so other people turn to hate it now.

And I'm so surprised because to me, an avid Hayffie shipper since day 1 (more than a decade in this ship, I won't get off now or never), Hayffie has never been so validated as with this book. Suzanne has given us SO MUCH CONTENT.

The makeup case scene? Her putting flowers on Haymitch's shirt? Both are very intimate scenes to me. Her being the last one she saw before entering the arena (her eyes being the last thing he focused on before going into that hell) AND first friendly one to see after he got out? Her making sure he knew that even after how the Capitol portrayed him, she believed he was a good person? Her making sure to check on him during the whole time he was in those capitol parties (and we know what depravities the capitol people made victors do. She maybe was checking noone did anything to him)? I even saw a comment on a Hayffie edit saying that in how grey Haymitch's life turned after his games, Effie was there every birthday of his after that, wearing rainbow colored clothes and trying to bring a positive attitude...

YOU CAN'T TELL ME SUZANNE DIDN'T PURPOSELY GIVE US ALL THIS CONTENT OF THEM

I'll admit I was a bit sad after seeing no mention of her in the epilogue and seeing so many people saying the "goose mate for life" thing completely invalidated them. And then I stumbled upon a comment here on Tumblr that made me go investigate and...

It turns out the "Goose mate for life" means once goose choose a partner, they'll be with that parner until one of them dies, then have a long mourning period, but then CAN and sometimes DO find a new partner after all of that.

I CAN'T THINK SUZANNE DIDN'T KNOW THIS. AND I'M THRIVING AT THE IMPLICATIONS

All I hope, and want to believe, is that this book, just as how Haymitch tells his story to Peeta and Katniss, is finally his way to reconcile with everything and with Lenore, to finally let go of the feelings of regret and guilt. And realise he can have someone by his side to help him cross this world before he finally gets reunited with her again in the other. I believe Effie is that person to him and I'll always still do.

P.S. Knowing most of Effie's development and their relationship sparkled from the movies and not the original books I can't help but pray the director of the SOTR movie has something prepared for us... Maybe if the put the epilogue in the movie, we'll see Effie with Haymitch there 👀

[graciedollie]

Grayson Headcannons

Warning(s): nothing too drastic, lex sesbian, mention of scissoring, cunnilingus, fingering, and strap usage, slight dacryphillia, and small mention of tits/cunt slapping (😛), mention of different hair types and body types. Overall, just Grayson being a sweetie <3

A/N: She’s so underrated. like seriously I LOVE HER😖

SFW

This woman is honestly a romantic at best.

If she were to meet you at the Last Drop, she’d probably be drawn to you—your smile, the way you carry yourself, and how your eyes gaze over at her. She would probably try to scoot her way over and suggest to pay for your drink, which of course, you’d agree and you would start to chat a bit—slowly warming up to each other, but even so she’s an Enforcer and you’re a Zaunite—not a good mix, people would think, which leads to meeting in secret here and there sometimes.

But on the other hand, if you were a piltie, then of course she’d be drawn to you by all the things I stated in the previous line. She would probably be out on duty and you would happen to pass her, giving her a smile before she stops you just to tell you how much of a beauty you look. It would be a routine. You running into her and starting a conversation—which soon led to going on small dates.

I feel that she would prefer going to dinner, theatre, or even a small coffee shop as a date for starters, but as you both develop more in the relationship, she’d most likely prefer to treat you to fancy restaurants, spoiling you rotten, and of course, doing things you love.

Grayson would definitely be a very, VERY observant partner—like seriously. If you so even glance at something you wanted in a store, it’s in your hands almost immediately. If you want something, but can’t get it yourself and don’t wanna burden her with getting it for you, she’ll already be getting it for you. If you mention something you like (ex; specific perfumes, books, clothes , etc.), she will make a mental note of it and get it for you.

She’s probably only been in one relationship in her life, but it didn’t workout—leading her to be a bit more guarded with her feelings(??). As much as she would love you dearly, she still feels the need to keep her guard up, but as you both get more comfortable in the relationship—the guarded walls come crumbling down and she’s way more open to you.

Grayson is a busy woman—she’s an Enforcer for God’s sake. She knows her work is stressful and pretty dangerous, making quality time a tight squeeze. You know she’s busy and she tries hard to spend time with you—making sure you’re loved and feel appreciated for—but she makes up for it with the gifts she’ll send to you (ex; flowers, your favorite food, letters, etc). It’s definitely one of her love languages and you love that she spoils you rotten, but you still crave her regardless, as does she.

Speaking of love languages, besides gift giving, she also loves physical touch and acts of service. Whenever you two are out together, she’s always in touch with you—always. Hand around your waist. Holding your hand. Holding you close to her side. Locking fingers together. Her hand on the lower drift of your back. Anything. She will have you close enough to be touching you. When you’re alone together at home—she’s more touchy. She’ll have her hand on your thigh, rubbing along your sides, massaging your legs, and even massage your tits a bit. She loves having you under her touch, it’s really comfortable. If you’re not a fan of physical touch yourself, she’ll back off, of course.

Her acts of service is practically doing whatever you need her to do—most times doing stuff that you don’t even need to tell her to do. She’ll make dinner or help you with it—even if you fight her on it. She knows you can do good on your own, but she just wants to show you how much she really loves and cares for you. She’ll help you slip on your shoes, zip up your dress (if you’re a fan of wearing them), and helping you do your hair. Now, if you have like type 3/4 hair, she’ll be confused on how to care for your hair, but trust me—SHE GONE LEARN. It’ll take a couple tries, but soon enough, she’s your personal hairstylist <3

Being an enforcer is definitely frustrating and tiring—which mostly leads her to coming home upset and tired. You wouldn’t even have to say anything but open your arms and let her engulf your body—melting into her touch as your hands would rub her back, earning soft grunts from her. She’d stay silent for a moment before telling you about her day, which you gladly listen and sometimes put your feedback on it. As much as she tries not to take her frustrations out on you, her dearest, it sometimes happen on accident, but she will immediately apologize after taking a couple deep breaths. She never wants to make you feel bad after she had a bad day, but she definitely tries her hardest and make it up by holding you close to her while saying she loves you and she’s sorry (gifts are bonus points).

Now, if you were to be upset after a bad day, she’d do the same, but with more (idk). She wrapped her a strong arms around you and hold you close to her as you would either stay silent or rant about your day. Her hands would rub your back, occasionally smoothing her hand over your hair to calm you a bit. She’s very understanding and knows how it is to be stressed, which is why when you just snap at her, she isn’t too mad, but only encourages you to take a deep breath before she pulls you closer to her on lap—engaging you with her arms as she held you close to her. Of course you don’t mean to sometimes and you even apologize deeply for it, but you, too, are also working on it.

She fuckin loves watching you try on clothes. She could be sitting at the edge of the bed, eyes wide with such love and affection as you would come out wearing various outfits (outfits that she picked for you for special events). You would strut around with your cute outfits with a wide smile on your face, absolutely loving how obsessed and beautiful her precious girl was :)

Grayson is pretty strong (I will die on that hill.) and she could pick up a bit of weight tbh, so she just randomly likes picking you up—either bridal style or over her shoulder just to mess with you. Now if you’re a bigger girl, that’s even better. She loves seeing the shock and surprise on your face as she lifts you, chuckling at your reaction before hushing your protests with a searing kiss.

When you two have an argument, which isn’t too common, it’s quickly dispersed. If she’s in the wrong, she’ll be quick to apologize for what she said/did—but sometimes she’s stubborn, which would make the argument a bit longer (bonus point if you’re the same also). The argument wouldn’t last too long as she didn’t want to go to sleep with you, knowing you’re upset with her and there’s some tension. Eventually, she’ll be the one to come clean and apologize, which you also will if you’re in fault (if you’re not stubborn), leading the argument to die down—hugging each other tightly, relishing in the warmth of the tight embrace.

She’s snores pretty lowly, but when she’s utterly exhausted, that shit is so damn loud that you sometimes have to throw a pillow over her face to muffle the snores (not trying to suffocate her ofc <3).

As I said before, her work is pretty dangerous and stressful, which means she never wants you caught up in something—which is why she don’t really like to tell you a lot of things that involves her works. She doesn’t mean it in a non-trusting way, she only wants to keep you safe.

Grayson tries to be polite with certain things she say, but she can’t help but say it bluntly—especially when it has something to do with something that’s stupid. There are some things she won’t bother to speak on, but her facial expressions will say everything her mouth prefers not to say.

She has a good patience, but most times you push it. There are times where she literally had to go outside or something to take a deep breath when you asked the most nonsensical question she ever heard of all her years. (Isn’t she like in her late 40s or older??.)

NSFW

well well well

THIS WOMAN IS A SOFT DOM AND I WILL DIE ON THAT HILL.

Anywho…

But like I said, she’s a soft dom (literally gives the energy). She’s literally the sweetest when it comes down in the bedroom, slowly taking her time to explore your body as she would leave soft kisses along your neck.

Her favorite parts of your body is definitely your stomach and thighs. She can’t help but get even more aroused at the way your stomach jerks/quiver and your thighs tremble. She always pepper more kisses to those areas as she believes that parts such as these should be cherished and loves that you trust her to do so. (Bonus points if you have a larger stomach and thighs).

Most definitely eats you out for her pleasure and yours, ofc <3.

She takes her time while eating you out. Starting with gentle kisses to your inner thigh before slowly placing kisses to your soaked cunt and up to your aching clit—relishing in the soft gasps as she did so while gazing up at you.

THIS WOMAN LOVES EYE CONTACT. FUCKKKKK.

She loves eye contact dearly, stating that it adds more intimacy to the heated moment. She loves holding your gaze when she’s eating you out, fingering you, strapping you and even scissoring with you. She finds it enduring to see you struggling to keep your eyes open while she’s making you feel like you’re in paradise, smirking at your dejected whine when she stops completely when you squeezed your eyes. You try to keep your eyes open, but it’s hard when she’s making you feel so good and you know she’ll stop if you close your eyes :(( (EXTRA BONUS POINTS IF YOU’RE SHY OR NOT ALL THAT GOOD WITH EYE CONTACT).

She’s a tease. Shamelessly.

You could be on the brink of the most earthshaking orgasm and she’ll slow her pace, watching how your thighs twitch and face scrunch up. She loves making you wait for it. First, she’ll kiss and suck at your neck while sliding her fingers over your clothed-clit, but pull away soon as you start getting more impatient. She loves seeing the way your face scrunch up with frustration and neediness, knowing she was only playing with you—nonetheless, she’ll give you what you need.

She absolutely adores fingering you. Feeling the way you squeeze around her digits and the way your clit throbs against her thumb is such a rewarding feeling. She KNOWS she’s making you feel good with only her fingers, though she can use her mouth and strap, but prefers her fingers.

There are times she uses her strap and when she uses it, she usually has you riding her, on your back, or holding you against the mirror so you can watch yourself completely lose it.

Not much of a dirty talker, more so of sweet talker, such as saying: “you’re taking me so well, love” “feel how deep I am?” “No, baby. Keep them open—you know this.” “Hear how she’s speaking to me? I know, honey.” “Too much? Aw, baby, just hold my hand, yeah?” “Be good for me, love.”

Though she’s really sweet and soft when it comes to you, she does not take kind to you mouthing off to her whatsoever or doing something she specifically told you NOT to do. Argue all you want, but you know where you’ll end up. She’ll edge you to her heart’s content, even when you say sorry. She won’t stop unless you say the safeword, which she would immediately stop and check on you. Though if you don’t say the safeword, then you’re in for a night. She’ll finger you slowly then speed up, but stop soon as she could feel you tense around her. With her strap, she make you work for it, so you’re riding her. Nonetheless, she’s gentle with you after all the torture and give her girl what she earned.

She’s not too much on the receiving side, but she loves when you’re eager to go down on her or rub your cunt against hers. She can’t get enough at how your eyes practically gleam as your eyes met her glistening folds before greedily lapping away at her. Plus, she’s not too loud, but she does grunts and release low moans. (sometime whimpers if she’s overstimulated enough)

She hates seeing her precious girl cry when she’s upset, but when you’re overstimulated and drowning in pleasure, that’s a different story. Her lips can’t help but twitch in a small smirk before she would gently kiss away the salty tears, relishing all your little whimpers and choked moans.

Grayson isn’t really mean or such, but she’ll sometimes slap your cunt or your boobs, just wanting to earn a yelp from you. She does it randomly, leaving you on a questioning edge each time—which she finds very humorous.

Like I said before shes pretty gentle and soft with you, but there are times where you push her to the point of being not so gentle with you. Sometimes she’ll prop you on her lap to give your ass hard swats or have you on your knees between her thighs, fingers in your mouth as she glared down at you, but ofc, she’s gonna be sweet in the regardless.

but even so, don’t take her sweetness for granted. She will be QUICK to spread your legs if you try to jerk them shut if you’re embarrassed, overstimulated, being stubborn or all the above. She’ll also use her strength to pin your hips against whatever surface you’re against to hold you still if you get a bit too squirmy.

Now, I know I said she doesn’t try to come home from work with a shitty attitude and take it on you, but you, somehow, encourage her to use you as a stress reliever. She was hesitant, but agreed as you were gleaming to help her. The moment she comes home upset, you already know what’s to come. Getting manhandled every which way. Grunting and breathing heavily in your ear as she practically fucks you with every ounce of frustration she has.

Regardless if she’s rough or soft with you, AFTERCARE IS IMPORTANT TO HER. She takes it very, VERYYY seriously (as she should). She’ll make sure you’re ok, help you clean up, and cuddle you close to her while she coo about how well you did for her and how she loves you so dearly (and ofc you care for her just as much <3)

I NEED THIS WOMAN. FAWK

hope you enjoyed <3

[downbad4sylus]

“This mark is different”

(part 3 to “I killed you”)

synopsis: You and Sylus return to the base from the field of flowers where he shows you his horns.

content: NSFW; 18+ MDNI; smut with some plot; sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; soft!sylus; virgin!sylus (i am of the opinion that sylus wouldn’t so much as breathe near another woman who isn’t MC); virgin!reader; kissing; oral (fem receiving); p in v; soft sex; slightly rough sex; no protection (wrap it up kids); multiple orgasms; idk if this counts as monster fucking but sylus has horns and a tail; mostly proofread

word count: ~3.5k

tags: @travelerth; @midiplier; @satansdaughter123; @bookfreakk

a/n: massive thank you once again to everyone who’s read, liked, and reblogged parts 1 and 2, i genuinely can’t express how happy it makes me that so many of you have enjoyed these little stories :’) anywaayyy, in honor of the new banner and all the new spicy content (bless our game developer overlords) here is part 3 where things between you and Sylus get a little spiicccyyyy

Okay, so when Sylus asked if you wanted to go back to the base and see his horns, you might have taken him a little too literally.

What you thought was him innocently taking you to his bedroom—warning the twins on your way that he still didn’t want to be bothered—turned out to be far from that.

Which was how you found yourself currently pinned beneath him on his bed, tongues tangling and lungs screaming for air, no horns in sight. Or tail. Or wings.

You lightly pounded a fist against his chest. “Sylus…I need…to breathe…”

Sylus was loath to part from you, but did so regardless, taking the opportunity to marvel at the sight of you before him. Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, chest heaving. You were beautiful, perfect, and his.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked, making sure he had your consent before he continued.

You bit your lip, and he nearly lost control then and there. How many times did he have to tell you to stop doing that?

“How far are we going?” you asked softly.

“As far as you want, sweetie,” Sylus assured. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

“I, um, haven’t really done anything before,” you confessed, turning your face away so you didn’t have to look at him.

Sure, you had a few boyfriends throughout the years but you’d never had more than a heated makeout session, it was usually the reason why those relationships ended. You weren’t a prude or anything, you were just saving yourself for when someone really special came along. Or maybe you’d unknowingly been waiting for Sylus to come along.

Sylus pinched your chin and forced your eyes back to his. “Me neither.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “Really?”

He nodded. “I’d never give myself to anyone but you.” He released your chin in favor of dragging a finger down your neck before wrapping his hand around it, careful not to choke you. “I do, however, have a very good memory.”

Your heart thundered in your chest. You wanted him. You needed him. And most importantly, you trusted him.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay what, sweetie? I need you to tell me exactly what you want,” Sylus said, his thumb rubbing soothingly along the length of your neck.

“I want you, Sylus, all of you,” you said. “I want you to make me feel good.”

“Oh, Y/N, I’ll do so much better than that.”

He released your neck, trailing his large hand over your chest and down your stomach until his fingers teased the hem of your shirt.

“May I?” he asked.

You nodded. “But I get to take off yours next.”

Sylus chuckled. “Are you trying to make a deal with me right now?”

You nodded again, smiling. “For every one thing you strip off of me, I get to strip something off of you.”

His ruby-red eyes sparkled. “And those are your terms?”

“Those are my terms.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

You eagerly sat up and held your arms above your head. Sylus huffed, clearly amused by your enthusiasm, and gripped the bottom of your shirt in both his hands. In one smooth motion, he removed it, tossing it aside as his gaze roved hungrily over your now-bare skin.

When you reached for his shirt, intent on running your hands all over his delicious abs, you suddenly found yourself back against the mattress, wrists pinned to the pillows.

You blinked to find Sylus hovering above you sporting a positively wicked smile.

“Sylus! What are you doing?” you exclaimed, fighting to free your wrists.

He cocked his head. “You never said when you got to rid me of my clothes,” he drawled in that infuriatingly smug tone of his. “You need to be more specific when setting your terms, sweetie.”

Your mouth popped open. This was what you got for trying to make a deal with the King of Deals himself.

“Now, let’s get rid of this next,” he mused, trailing his fingertips along the underwire of your bra.

“How are you—“

Black-red mist enveloped your bra, tickling the skin underneath. It took only a moment for Sylus’s Evol to make quick work of it, the undergarment reduced to black and red specks of dust, leaving your upper half fully exposed.

Sylus’s pupils dilated as his hand gently cupped your breast, and you whimpered when his thumb brushed over your nipple.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “And all mine.”

He was barely touching you yet your core had already gone molten and was beginning to throb with need. You needed more of him, his hands, his lips, his tongue, his co—

A jolt of pleasure shot straight to your core, tearing a loud moan from your lips as Sylus closed his own over your neglected nipple. He continued, tongue laving and teeth biting until he switched to your other breast, giving it an equal amount of attention.

You were panting by the time he lifted his head with a quiet smack of his lips.

But Sylus was far from finished.

He kissed his way up to your neck, where he licked and sucked at your sensitive skin. You wanted to touch him, thread your fingers through his hair but he still had your wrists pinned firmly above your head with seemingly no intention of releasing them.

You cried out, your back arching as Sylus sunk his teeth into your neck.

“This mark is different,” he breathed, lapping his tongue over it to soothe the sting. “This time, I want to count how many times I can make you come before it fades.”

“Fuck Sy,” you groaned.

He trailed down again until he reached the waistband of your pants. He looked at you, one brow raised, silently asking for your consent. You nodded, straining against his hold on your wrists, desperate to bury your hands in his hair.

You nearly cried with relief when he finally removed his hand, only to have your wrists bound by his Evol instead.

“Sylus,” you whined.

He chuckled. “Be a good girl and let me have my fun first,” he said. “You’re the one who asked me to make you feel good.”

“Then stop teasing me already!”

“Mmm, very well.”

Sylus yanked off your pants, leaving you in just your underwear, which were soaked through by this point. He made quick work taking them off as well, groaning at the sight of you finally naked before him.

“So, so beautiful,” he murmured reverently as he reached out, brushing his thumb over your clit. Your hips bucked at the contact, and it was all the reaction Sylus needed before descending on you like a man starved.

Spreading your legs wide, Sylus licked your slick entrance, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. Your back bowed off the bed, crying out in pleasure as he focused his efforts on your throbbing clit. He slung an arm across your waist and pushed you back down, keeping you locked in place, unable to escape the pleasure he was so eager to give you.

His unoccupied hand ghosted along your inner thigh, growing closer and closer to where his mouth was, until he reached your entrance and slipped a finger inside.

You moaned. “Please Sy,” you begged him. “Please let me touch you.”

Without parting from your core, Sylus’s Evol dissipated from your wrists, freeing you at last. Your hands immediately went to his head, burying your fingers in his hair.

Release tingled down your spine, the tension poised to snap. When Sylus added a second finger he nearly undid you then and there.

You grip his hair harder, moving your hips as much as his iron grip would allow, riding his face.

“Sylus,” you panted. “Sylus I’m gonna—ah.”

“Go ahead, sweetie,” Sylus said gruffly. “Come for me.”

And you did, the tension exploding as you came all over his mouth and fingers. He continued to lick and suck, his fingers pumping in and out while you rode out your high, stopping only when your body went limp beneath him.

“That’s one,” Sylus said proudly, straightening as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You stared at the slick covering his fingers, transfixed by the way it shined in the light. Sylus noticed.

“Want a taste for yourself?” he asked.

Heat flooded your cheeks but when your eyes met his, you nodded.

“Open,” he commanded. You obeyed and Sylus slid his fingers inside your mouth. When you closed your lips around them he said, “Now suck.”

You couldn’t feel any embarrassment you were so turned on, tasting yourself as you licked and sucked Sylus’s fingers clean.

“Good girl,” Sylus purred as his withdrew his fingers. “Would you like to uphold your end of our deal now?”

You pounced on him, almost knocking you both off the bed. You tore at Sylus’s shirt, bunching it up over his torso before ripping it off his head. Without stopping to admire his physique, you rose on your knees, positioned on either side of his legs, and unbuckled his belt. The bulge in his pants made your mouth water and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your hands around his cock and wring as much pleasure out from him as he did you.

“Lift your hips,” you told Sylus.

He raised them, his chest heaving with anticipation as he watched you. You hurriedly popped the button and pulled the zipper down, then with all your might, grabbed the waistband of his pants and underwear and yanked.

Sylus’s hard cock slapped against his abdomen and you nearly abandoned undressing him at the sight of it. He was long and thick, precum leaking from his slit and onto his stomach. You wanted to touch it, taste it, feel it inside of you.

“Don’t stop now, kitten,” Sylus encouraged, his voice breathless. “You can’t leave my pants like this.”

You blinked, realizing you’d be staring at his cock, hands still gripped tight on his pants, which were only halfway down his thighs. You mumbled an apology and managed to finish stripping him, tossing his clothes aside onto the floor somewhere.

Sylus groaned as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “Kitten,” he panted. You dragged your hand up his length, gathering the precum at the tip before running it back down. “Hah—ah, that feels so good.”

But Sylus grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

You pouted. “I want to make you feel good too.”

He smirked. “You can do that some other time, right now, I need to be inside you.”

Sylus sat up, putting you at eye level.

Your breath caught. He was so beautiful, with his sharp, chiseled features, but what really took your breath away was the look in his eyes. He looked at you like you held his entire world in your hands. Like you were the only light shining in a life otherwise shrouded in darkness. You loved this man, and it was so heart achingly clear he loved you too.

Sylus cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

“I’ve never been so sure about anything before,” you answered him with a smile. “I love you, Sylus.”

He smiled too, a real smile, not anything like his smug ones. “I love you too, Y/N.”

He kissed you, lips pressing softly on yours. It was slow and unhurried, like you had all the time in the world to just enjoy each other. Even when your tongues met, you didn’t rush, Sylus gently pushing you down onto the mattress.

He drew back when his cock teased your entrance. “I’m going to go slow, okay? If it hurts or you need me to stop, just let me know.”

Your hands flew up to his face. “Sylus wait.”

He didn’t move a muscle.

“You said I could see your horns.”

Sylus faltered. “Sweetie, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

You shook your head. “No, I want to see them, Sy, and your wings and tail. I said I wanted all of you and I meant all of you.”

Sylus’s heart thundered in his chest, unsure whether to give in to your demands. He was sure if he protested further, he’d be able to convince you to drop it for now. In truth, though, he was nervous. Yes you had remembered your past together but you’d never seen him in his dragon form in this life. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you. He’d never recover if you saw him as the monster he truly was, you were the only one who loved him despite that very fact.

“Sylus.”

Hearing his own name tore him from his thoughts, his gaze fixing on your face.

“I love you now just as much as I did then, dragon and all,” you said firmly. “Please, I want you to be able to be yourself with me.”

Sylus hung his head and sighed, resigning to your demands. “Fine, but no wings, they’re too big for the bed.”

“Okay, I can live with that.”

Sylus huffed and brought his lips back to yours. As you kissed, black-red mist swirled at the top of Sylus’s head and at the base of his spine, revealing his scaled, black horns and tail.

He held his breath as he parted from you, bracing himself for your reaction. But when you opened your eyes, they were not filled with fear. They were filled with awe.

You lifted a hand and brushed the bottom of one of Sylus’s horns. He shivered at your touch, his tail swishing back and forth behind him.

“Are they sensitive?” you asked, ghosting your fingers up the length.

“Yes,” Sylus breathed.

You hummed thoughtfully as you angled your head, peering at his tail, then looking back at him. “You really are beautiful, Sy.”

He swallowed against the lump in his throat, moved far more than he could ever express with words that you found him beautiful, even like this.

“May I continue now?” he asked, deflecting with his usual arrogance.

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Please.”

Sylus almost lost his self control at the relief that flooded through him. His cock was throbbing so hard it was painful, and the only way he could soothe it was to be buried deep inside your cunt.

Tail thrashing wildly, Sylus repositioned the head of his cock at your entrance, somehow even more soaked now than before. Coating himself first, he then began pushing past your folds.

You inhaled sharply at the burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size.

“Relax, my love,” Sylus soothed, one hand trailing down toward your core. He gently circled your clit, encouraging your body to relax.

You whimpered, clenching around the head of his cock, desperate for him to fill you more despite the pain.

Taking his time, Sylus rocked his hips slowly, easing into you inch by inch all while rubbing your clit to keep you loose. By the time he bottomed out, the pain you’d felt had been long replaced by the pure pleasure of being filled with his cock.

Sylus trembled with the restraint it took to not start pounding into you, wanting your first time to be more loving and tender. There was plenty of time to take you hard and rough.

“I’m going to move now, okay?” he warned, breathing heavily.

“Yes, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He groaned and rocked his hips until just his tip was left inside you, before sliding back in. You both moaned as Sylus began thrusting in earnest, his pace slow and steady.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” Sylus panted. “Just like I remember.”

You were unable to respond, too consumed by the way he moved inside you, his cock hitting you in all the right places.

As though it had a mind of its own, Sylus’s tail snaked around one of your legs, keeping it locked to his waist.

Tension building already, your nails dug into Sylus’s back as each thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge. Sylus could fell your walls fluttering around his cock, and while he wanted nothing more than to lose himself right along with you, he was determined to rip as many orgasms out of you as he could.

He picked up the pace slightly and you responded in kind, tightening your grip on him as you cried out.

“Sylus, oh fuck, don’t stop, please please please don’t stop.”

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He captured your lips in an impassioned kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you moaned. One hand cupped a breast, his fingers teasing your nipple before moving on the other.

His touch, his kiss, his cock, it was all too much.

Your back arched as you came, waves of pleasure washing over your body again and again with seemingly no end. Sylus kept moving through it, pausing when you finally slumped into the bed.

“That’s two, but we’re not finished yet, kitten,” Sylus growled.

You hardly registered his words before he was flipping you onto your stomach, a shocked oof breezing past your parted lips. He dragged your hips up so your ass was in the air, sliding his cock back into your cunt with ease. His tail slid along your ribs, then across your breasts, the hard scales rubbing on your sensitive nipples, and it pulled you flush to Sylus’s chest. On instinct, you reached back and grabbed onto both of his horns. The groan he let out was purely animalistic.

“You better hold on tight,” he whispered in your ear, the only warning you got before his cock started slamming into you.

You moaned at the delicious new angle, your body already working toward another orgasm. Admittedly, you’d been a bit nervous that Sylus was relying solely on memory from another lifetime in order to please you, and truly you would’ve been happy with whatever he’d be able to give you. But this? This was not at all what you expected.

“I won’t last much longer, kitten,” Sylus warned, his thrusts growing sloppy, “and I fully intend on bringing you with me.”

His hand slid down your abdomen, two fingers finding your clit and rubbing in quick, tight circles.

Your cunt clenched hard around his cock as you pulled on his horns, your mouth popping open in a silent cry. Sylus groaned, doubling his efforts both with his cock and his fingers.

“Sylus!” you yelled, body tensing. “Sylus, oh please.”

“Give me one more, Y/N,” he muttered. “Be a good girl and give me one more.”

Your climax slammed into you, your vision going white as the pleasure rocked your body harder than the last two. It drove Sylus straight off the cliff edge, chasing his high right alongside you, filling your cunt to the brim.

When you were both spent, Sylus collapsed on top of you, but you were too fucked out of your mind to care about his weight crushing you.

He didn’t linger on you too long though, rolling over onto his side, taking you with him as his tail was still wound around your breasts. He peppered kisses on your neck and shoulder, making you smile.

You twisted in his hold to face him, placing a chaste kiss of your own right on his lips. “I love you, Sy,” you murmured.

“I love you too, sweetie,” he replied quietly.

“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?” you asked, the picture of innocence.

Sylus scoffed. “I was under the impression I was much more than just your boyfriend.”

“You are, but I can’t introduce you to people as my soul-bound lover,” you protested. “We need a socially acceptable label, Sy.”

“You want to introduce me to all your little Hunter friends?”

“Yeah, as my small-business-owner-slash-fruit-stall-vendor boyfriend, Skye!”

He gave you an incredulous look, as if he couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now. But, he’d never deny you anything. “Fine, I’ll be your boyfriend as long as you get to be my girlfriend.”

“You have to ask me first.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You have to ask me to be your girlfriend first.”

Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Y/N, my love, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

You grinned and smacked your lips against his. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Little did you know that Sylus had much bigger plans in mind than you being just his girlfriend. Fiancé was good, but wife was even better. You know, for the sake of socially acceptable labels, of course.