#but whenever i try to idk make an effort
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perfectly-uncapable · 2 years ago
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randomly saw your tags and you sound like you could use a hug, friend 🫂
awww thank you! i was being really dramatic, honestly. i literally had to go "what did i post that was so worrying???" and then an "ohhh bike got stolen"
really appreciate this tho :)))
#i was also just a bit too exited about the barbie movie avant premiere lmao#and i think we can still go#but i hate that i have to go like -oh are we still going with just the three of us then-#bc it is not THEE most logical now bc the whole plan was also to host a party after and now my cohost cant go so do i still do that??? i ca#but also if like 3/6 people cant come it feels rude to keep the plan going?#but also we could postpone it to...just go to the movie ig#but on the other hand there is only one avant premiere event?#but idk not going to the event also just feels rude to even consider towards the people who ARE available#bc then it's as if theyre not good enough to go alone with#which is completely not the case#but aaaaah none of these plans are going smooth and i feel so annoyed at everyone all the time about it#which is really unfair of me to do bc everyone but me still has exams so OFC stuff isnt smooth#but also everything i try to get exited about gets countered with people just not keeping their agendas free or doubts or idk#i just FEEL like i always prioritise this friend group#but it really FEELS ... TO ME... that its not the same for everyone?#and its not rational at all too bc i KNOW i could prioritise way better and i also KNOW people cannot control when their mom plans a trip o#or when they have to work or give a camp or idk#but whenever i try to idk make an effort#it feels like the universe is against me#and idk this is probably just what being in you twenties is like#and right now its just a piling of all these different things that makes it feel more serious i guess#but idk...no girls trip...no gent fest with everyone together...no barbie premiere...half the group going abroad next year...#i dont blame anyone i know its hard and circumstances are forcing it#but i do feel sad about it#and i also feel hella petty that i really put a lot of effort into the google doc and consulted multiple sites and thought of everything#for people to then go -yeah but the transport- and -we dont need half the things on that list-#*and i took that personally gif* bc i know none of them said that to be rude#lmao love how i said i was just being dramatic and then added this rant lmao#needed to sort these feelings out real quick to see which ones i need to adress and which ones are irrelevant#Anne you have done nothing wrong ever (but also no one rlly has in this situation) but yknow not frustrated with u or smth
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blighted-lights · 7 months ago
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the way that ravage clearly loves and idolizes megatron genuinely makes me ill you have no idea. like this is someone who clearly still adores megatron despite being betrayed by him. and on the other side, the way megatron interacts with ravage in this entire scene is so,,, he's tired. he isn't at all what ravage idolizes and he knows that. he doesn't know what he is anymore but he's not the valiant savior ravage needs and wants him to be, and he Knows it.
ravage is clinging to a version of megatron that no longer exists (or maybe never did in the first place, and only existed in ravage's mind) and megatron no longer has anything to cling to so he rejects his past completely. these two make me ill.
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somegrumpynerd · 2 months ago
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Does anyone else hc that Nightmare can like, absorb his tentacles back into his body sometimes? Like the way Stitch does with his extra arms?
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sherlock-is-ace · 11 months ago
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#gonna be depressing in the tags for a moment#pls excuse me#but whenevery i see a pair of friends that are like soulmates together#who laugh and scream about what they love and have so many things in common#i always become the personification of ''i want what they have''#ever since i was a child i would pray (you heard that right lol) to get a best friend who shared my interests and passions#(and who was gay but that's included in interests and passions lol tho i didn't know it at the time)#i dream with the sitcom worthy friendships with the you get the key to my house and you can come in whenever#we just spend days sitting together and not even talking just being there#or the next best thing. find it online!#but that will never happen and i need to accept that#not even for lack of trying... i even went to a hobby class for a whole month trying to make friends irl#but it's impossible for the simplest reason... i don't enjoy it!#every time i try to do something new and out of my comfort zone i fail misserably because it's literal hell to me#how can i make a friend if i cannot talk to people?#online or whatever?!#i can't even talk to the people i know from school or whatever#i put in so much fucking effort and freak myself out!#and it's not working and it won't work and idk what to do about it!#so yeah i don't think i'm capable of having meaningful relationships actually#and i need to really accept that cause otherwise i will forever dream with it#like i need to stop trying to chase after it it's just not gonna happen#i guess people have these feelings about romantic partners? well not me lol#anyways...#angel talks#personal
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saltyfilmmajor · 2 years ago
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Adulthood really does feel like you don’t have time for your friends sometimes and it blows
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synthville · 2 years ago
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plus unfortunately for me i think r7 is done. splitsville. endpoint will be the 3rd stage of gay divorce when you can finally grab drinks and reminisce on the relationship with resigned fondness lol. just completely over in any way that matters (sorry to the silent subtleties of queerness girlies but that’s almost never done well when gay people aren’t at the helm and with this show in particular they simply refuse to address certain things as a major cop out)
anyway. what im getting from finally giving in to reviews and interviews and my own lesbian eyes is that going forward it’ll be awkward exes to renewed friendship probably shown through their seamless work dynamic. and they’ll leave things on a ‘maybe someday’ note. which, seeing as they even didn’t try in the actual present is beyond bullshit. but a mutual agreement to end things with both obviously having feelings they refuse to act upon because the writers are hateful hacks i can take.
what would be absolutely intolerable to me would be if seven has clearly moved on (with a blessing from raffi to go have starfleet sponsored spinoff adventures no less) while raffi just carries this torch forever. because fuck that. it’s one thing to have her be the one to nudge them along when they’re both in it but to have only her pining after the fact? hellish. like it’s actually deplorable to me.
#im sensing and noticing and realizing and what ive concluded is that i hate it here#‘seven and raffi will always respect and have love for each other’ ENOUGH let them fuck on the bridge or cancel the show#other ick would be 7 ending up w dude like even as i typed that out snakes started manifesting in my home#basically i am bereft#but trying to make my peace with the fact that my expectations will simply never be met#bc i refuse to let this show take me to the edge#they’ve already made a fool of me i cannot continue to hold on to hope#im at the okay sure stage of grief idk lol#bc even if by some miracle there’s a quickie get back together at the end it would be pathetic#wasted all that time for what#won’t actually show any intimacy or love or physicality between the one gay couple but im supposed to clap?#stop playing!#it’s the way they’d have been THE couple for me if there was even an ounce of effort#all that conflict and complexity plus a side of stupid? delicious!!#and yet.#feels like they’re that couple that in 10 or 20 or whenever the fuck this franchise is finally on its last legs#and they’ve exhausted all other options whoever’s the showrunner for the last resort pre post sequel whatever#will make a desperate twitter thread talmbout how these two finally found the way back to each other once again#as if it means anything lmao#to that i preemptively say: rot.#& ​the fact that this was the one trek show to reel me in of all things?#when beyoncé said ​take a minute girl come sit down and tell us what’s been happening#i was the dodo she was addressing!#r7#.rfi#stpk
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anthromimicry · 10 months ago
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“ i feel like i’m pulled back in time to when it happened.” @twcfaces :)
in response to the other's words, silence spread throughout the room almost instantaneously, but it was not the kind that was born out of awkwardness or of any sort of malice — it was a quiet sort of understanding that misao was regarding the other with now. it was undeniable that harvey and two-face, as they were ultimately two halves of one whole, had clearly been through something very traumatic as evidenced by the events that harvey (who was seemingly the host of their body from what she'd gathered from their conversation thus far, though she could be wrong) described to her. so it was important to treat the topic with the respect it deserved... and not to immediately jump to saying that he needed help, because that could be misinterpreted as ' there's something wrong with you, ' which was the exact opposite of what those who practice talk therapy should say to their patients.
misao instead wanted to show him compassion (or, at least, as much compassion as she could given her propensity for having to fake empathizing with her patients perhaps more often than she'd like to admit) and so all she did at first was nod to affirm the other that she was indeed listening. the gears in her mind right now were just turning was all, as she tried to find what the best thing to say to him would be in this moment. misao preoccupied herself with pushing the tissues on the table across from them closer to harvey just in case he might need them. and this gave her the time she needed to finally settle on what she should say, her expression remaining neutral besides the blink-and-you'll-miss-it frown that tugged at her lips, ❝ i see. well, thank you for trusting me enough to share such a personal and difficult story. ❞
misao took a moment in order to let everything he said to her set in more and continued, leaning forward to show him yet another sign that she was in fact very attuned to what he was saying, ❝ i am so sorry that you were hurt, harvey. or would you prefer for me to refer to you through plural terms? it seems as if the therapists before me that have treated you have made you aware that you have disassociative identity disorder... but i know that every system's preferences tend to vary whenever it comes to pronouns. so, i thought i should ask. but we do not have to talk about two-face at all during this session if you don't want to or unless he wishes to join us. i am correct with my assumption that i am speaking to harvey, yes? ❞ making a trust her and forming a safe environment for them in her office was absolutely vital to helping them heal. and whenever it came to people with a disassociative disorder, misao felt it was especially important to establish a baseline with them about their system.
she only had what other psychiatrists had said about the two of them to depend upon currently in her notes, after all, and things could always change / be inaccurate. misao cleared her throat as she rolled her pencil in between her hands, ❝ now, please correct me if i am using the wrong terms here, but if you are comfortable with answering... i'd like to ask you whether this is the first time you've experienced such a thing. i mean, having this feeling that you are being brought back in time to when it happened. because i believe that if you have been experiencing these flashbacks to the past in a reoccurring fashion, that there may definitely be more to it than what meets the eye. ❞ misao grabbed something from beneath the table in front of her and it was soon revealed to be a notebook with a pen.
she carefully slid it over to him, wordlessly at first, ❝ i don't know if you are fond of doodling while talking, but i always keep a set of these in my office for those who are. so feel free. and i realize that it can be intimidating to speak about these things to someone, but i promise you that my goal here is to just help you to the best of my ability. ❞ misao offered him a small smile before settling back in her chair.
he, or they, might desire to have some space to process everything. and she was more than willing to give it to them.
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rosetta-stoned-bitch · 2 years ago
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I feel like shit, too many straws on my back and one of them is def gonna break it
#Arushi rambles#It's my bday soon and I've never had a lesser inclination to celebrate it#God ugh#My best friend isn't in town#Neither is my boyfriend#And my anxiety won't shut up about how he's actually forgotten my bday and won't even wish much less send a gift#And recently we've been talking much less too since he went back to his hometown and we went long distance#And it feels like I'm the only one who even wants to talk and it's starting to make me feel really really stupid. So stupid that I get angry#Like I get its gotten really stressful. Since he is back home plus has this whole really frustrating job hunt going and it kinda makes sense#To not always want to talk because of how frustrating life has been lately and I'm really trying to be understanding of it all#But it feels horrible to pick up my phone at 2 in the afternoon and have absolutely 0 texts since last night#Which was also me trying to initiate a casual conversation that we did not even end up having#And it makes me want to completely stop initiating any conversation and it's making me want to stop putting in any kinda effort and ughhhh#idk man#I thought this would be different#If he does forget my bday I don't think I'll stay with him. I'm not making the same mistakes here.#I was an idiot to not recognise lack of efforts in the last one I'm certainly not doing it again#No matter how fckn amazing and consistent he'd been the 4 months he was here.#Maybe I should tell him I'm feeling like shit I know I should but whenever we talk he sounds so down and stressed already#I really don't feel like adding on#Ugh idk
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girlwithbloodyfangs · 21 days ago
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 DEAD INTERNET THEORY = 3D
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So, we all know that 3D is a direct reflection of your 4D (your mind).Your 3D reality is like social media, where your beliefs determine the algorithm, which means your brain constructs your reality based on your mindset. So, always try to focus on thoughts which are in your favour.
idk, if you guys can relate or not but hope this helps :)
I KNOW 3D ISN'T A REAL AND DIRECT REFLECTION OF MY 4D BUT I STILL END UP LOOKING FOR MY DESIRE IN 3D ?
This is something I was facing a problem in my past but I have a better answer/solution for this.
So recently, I have discovered this theory of "dead internet". example: you saw this video on youtube saying "this world gonna end soon" but that video doesn't make sense , so you choose to add a comment under the video saying "it's not possible, this video is a lie", so you start getting replies agreeing with the video and trying to convince you what have shown in the video is the ultimate truth, you also noticed most of the comments agreeing with the video and those comments that are agreeing with the video is "bots" and not actually commented by real a person. so the internet is trying to convince people and change their thoughts/perspectives/beliefs. 
Mainly we have been convinced from day one, that working hard is necessary otherwise you won't get success but if someone gets success without any effort that person will be labeled as a lucky person. (most basic perspective changing example).
So, what you see on the internet, it's a lie, maybe something might be real. I guess nowadays everyone knows the internet is a damn lie, just used for entertainment purposes, even though we are aware of that fact, we still choose to scroll on social media.
NOW THAT SAME DEAD INTERNET THEORY APPLY ON 3D 
Take 3D as a dead reality (it is actually dead reality, our awareness give life to this reality), We know that everything is just pure consciousness and everything is connected (i have discussed in the last blog, "how consciousness is connected with the manifestation" you can read this might give you more clarity on what i am talking about )
 so if everything is connected that means what i think is meant to show up in my 3D, the only need is to focus on the favourable thought. Even if you forget for a moment and start focusing on 3D by taking validation from it, Know that what you see in the 3D is not the end result / actually real. Things can change the moment you change your awareness. I have noticed things manifesting so instantly even though I didn't finish my thought. Your intention matters the most and it is what manifests. 3D is dead and nothing without you. So, whenever you start focusing on the 3D. Remember your power that you hold. You are the god of your reality.
Hope this blog helps people who want to make things clear or sometimes we lose track, even myself did it in the past, which is totally fine. I am glad....it will be helpful. Have a nice day....happy manifesting :)
~ keep slaying #girlwithbloodyfangs
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madaqueue · 4 months ago
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CARVE ME UP AND EAT ME
there was almost no information on the mysterious cult nestled into the mountainside near your hometown, with even less knowledge about its leader. curiosity sets you on your path to investigate, but something else manages to keep you.
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pairing: vampire!suguru geto x f!reader
themes/content: dark content (dubcon). smut. cult leader suguru, blood drinking/feeding, like mind control-ish? idk i was making up vampire rules here, pet names (little lamb), fingering (reader receiving), p in v (missionary). 18+, MDNI (wk: 7.6k)
a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!! thanks for getting freaky with me this month, it's been such a blast and i love you all!!!! hope you get to dress up and have lots of yummy candy tonight :) mwah!!!!!
quintober masterlist | main masterlist
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People rarely came back from the mountains.
When they did, they were…different. Months, even years having passed from their disappearance, and suddenly returning with no memory of it. As though their time away suddenly ceased to exist. They couldn’t recall what they had done, who they were with, anything that could help the townspeople pin down the mysterious group making their home in the depths of the woods.
Any efforts to catch the so-called cult were obviously futile - the town lost enough soldiers that the leaders decided it was pointless to send anymore sacrifices.
So, there was a sort of peace. Well, less peace, and more a silent war, a battle of contempt, one that left everyone on edge. Whenever someone went missing, the entire village stood on edge, waiting but never searching.
But you were trained well, oh so well.
“Never go out at night.” “Never stray from us.” “Never get lost.”
“Never go into the mountains.”
They praised you for your obedience, feeding it to you from dirtied palms, making you kneel before them to drink from it. It felt good to be good.
Obedience is strength.
Their orders pulled at the strings of your muscles, dictating your actions, your movements, your very thoughts. They pulled and pulled and pulled until you were stretched taut, desperately tightening you into a form they deemed desirable.
It was only a matter of time before the strings snapped.
The fight was blurry now, nothing more than screams and tears and broken expectations so sharp you worried you may cut yourself. Your feet hit the ground outside your parents’ home faster than you could breathe in the burning air, cold in your lungs.
You had always obeyed.
So now, perhaps you could enact your final act of disobedience. The one thing that had been taught to you so deeply until it buried itself under your skin.
The path up the mountain wasn’t nearly as dangerous as others made it seem. Truthfully, it was shockingly well-maintained, the occasional branch snapping under your feet but no other obstacles.
What could even be so bad about this place, anyways?
The people who returned were never injured, always fed and clean and cared for. They always came back in a fresh set of robes draped over their skin, no signs of markings or damage painted across their bodies.
The options weighed heavy on your tongue. Either you’d reach the cult’s temple, or you’d die trying.
Either way, you’d be acting on your own. You’d be independent, free. With an exhale, you blew the remaining obedience into dust, joining the stars sparkling overhead.
The moon seemed pleased with your choice, at least, guiding your path clearly through the woods. Whenever the ground below your feet disappeared, you knew you had misstepped, returning easily to the worn-in gravel placed along the way. Eventually, the trees became sparse, no longer guarding you from whatever lays ahead.
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust before focusing on the building before you, a gentle glow illuminating the temple through its exterior screens. It was certainly different than you imagined, expecting high stone barriers walling off a great fortress, leaving you to wonder: could masses of soldiers truly not pierce the paper screens protecting this deadly palace?
Yet, you couldn’t help but feel welcomed; it was unimposing, the warm lights flickering inside a definite sign of life. How many people call this their home? How many people serve here?
The wooden steps leading to the entrance creak slightly below your weight, palm hesitantly resting on the sliding door. Doubt flashes across your mind, the pull of your family threatening to tug you back home - should you turn around, forget this silly stunt and return to the life you had known?
Before you can move, the screen slides open in your grasp.
“Do come in,” a soft voice calls from inside as light floods your vision.
Your weight makes you stumble forward as your feet move on their own, carrying you into the room. It’s nice inside, the smell of sage lingering in the air as you make your way to the center. Before you is a man, his green and gold robes hanging loosely from his shoulders, the bare skin covered only by inky locks cascading down his back. His position looks almost leisurely as he kneels, his eyes scanning your figure.
“Sit.”
And you do - your knees buckle as you lower yourself to the ground.
A devilish grin spreads across his lips as he follows your motions. For a moment, his gaze locks on yours, deep purple eyes staring back.
“Quite an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” he purrs.
Air rushes into your lungs through a gasp, but you can’t stop the muscles in your neck from nodding.
What the fuck is happening? Why can’t you control your body?
As fear begins to course through your nerves, the stranger in front of you lets out a breathy giggle. “Good, that’s very good,” he muses.
When he rises to stand, your heart drops as you realize just how deeply you may have fucked up. He’s tall, easily towering over you. The bottom of his robes graze the floor as he circles you quietly - no, silently.
The sound of his humming vibrates in the air - you want to look at him, monitor him for any malicious intent, but you can’t bring yourself to turn your head.
When he’s completed his course around you, he returns to his seat on the floor. Perching himself on the balls of his feet, he leans forward. Cold fingers wrap around your face, pushing your cheeks together as he easily maneuvers you in his grasp. His eyes burn your skin as you realize:
He’s inspecting you.
With a pleased huff he releases your head, settling back across from you. That same smirk rests across his lips as he speaks. “Tell me, why did you come here, little lamb?”
The sound of your voice hits the air before you realize it’s yours. “I ran away.”
“Oh?” With a tilt of his head, his eyes crease. “Well then, I suppose you’ve found your new home. Welcome.”
Silently, he rises once more. This time, he extends a pale hand out to you. “I can show you to your room, if you’d like.”
At his words, the tendons within your body relax, more at ease. Finally under your own control, you raise a hesitant arm. Is this what you want?
Your palm rests lightly upon his.
He smiles.
“Good choice,” he whispers as you rise to your feet.
The temple’s grounds are beautiful, even in the dark. Flickering candlelight lines the stone paths as you walk through tended gardens, over wooden bridges and small streams. He guides you to a house near the back, tucked safely into the mountainside.
The paper slide shudders as it opens, revealing the outline of a bed covered in crisp white sheets.
“You can sleep here tonight. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to call for me,” he informs you, each syllable floating through the night air.
With one swift motion he turns, returning down the path you came from.
“Wait!” you call - as the command settles, you sheepishly cross your hands. Dark hair falls over his shoulder as he turns to face you. “How…how will I find you?”
His eyes close as he laughs. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll find you.” And with that, he disappears into the darkness.
The sun rises hesitantly here. It peeks its head through the translucent screens, barely illuminating your room enough to rouse you. When you finally wake, your thoughts swirl in confusion for a moment - where are you? what happened? - before you remember the previous night, the path beneath the watchful moon, the man who led you here.
Despite the unfamiliar environment, the warnings carved into your skin about the dangers of this place, you can’t bring yourself to feel afraid - after all, if he wanted to hurt you, he surely would have by now, right?
There’s an ache in your muscles as you stretch your arms overhead, bare feet resting upon the wooden floor, cool from the morning air. Idle hands begin searching the room as you open the hand-carved drawers, the scent of pine still lingering on them.
In the first, you find fresh sets of sheets. Below that, cleanly folded towels.
Moving to the next chest, your eyes widen as you scan its contents. Inside lie beautiful silks in every shade - your palms run over blues that mirror the sea, pinks the color of sunrise, greens brought from the forest floor. Each one feels more extravagant than the last, and as your awe clears, you suddenly feel ashamed to be holding them. They slip through your fingers as you shy away in embarrassment, your dirtied skin unworthy of touching them. They aren’t yours, after all - you’re nothing more than a guest here.
Turning to the closet nearby, you swing open the heavy doors, only to be met with even more luxury, this time robes hanging in neat rows.
You shouldn’t take them, but then again, the man did say anything you needed was yours���and you could use a new set of clothes after your travels last night…
Hesitantly, you pull one of the kimonos from the rack - in your hands, it catches the morning sun, small threads of gold reflecting across the room interwoven with the purple cloth. Sliding into it, you can’t help but notice the way it fits you perfectly, the length extending to just above your ankles, the sleeves resting gently along your wrists.
It feels foreign on your skin, surely you look like a fool, nothing more than a child trying on their parent’s work clothes. Glancing around the room, you search for a mirror to confirm your suspicions, but none seem to catch your eye. Oh well, you sigh, you’ll just have to face everyone looking like a stranger.
Stepping outside, a cool breeze brushes past your cheeks, your arms wrapping the robes tighter around your body as you fight off a shiver. It must be colder at this altitude, no longer afforded the protection of the very mountain you now reside on.
Small pebbles crunch beneath your feet as you make your way along the temple grounds. You try to retrace the path you took from the main house last night, but it quickly proves useless, your memory already foggy. Maybe it just looks different during the day?
Nevertheless, you don’t mind being lost here - the area is truly beautiful. Flowers fill the green spaces, ones you’d never seen before, shades of purple and red dotting the meadows. In the distance, tall trees poke against the horizon, leaves dancing in the wind.
As you wander, you pass identical buildings to the one you stayed in last night. Had you walked past all of these on your way there? Surely you would have remembered them, right?
This time, of course, the lights inside are off. There’s no use for them under the sun that’s now settling into the sky above. There are fewer clouds up here, you realize, perhaps another effect of the altitude.
By the time you find your way back to your new home (only able to identify it by the screen door left ajar), darkness has begun growing along the grounds, insects chirping their nighttime songs from nearby trees.
Sliding your shoes off, the smell of something tantalizing hits your senses.
You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until you’re suddenly faced with the most delicious looking meal sitting upon the table. Steam rises from the bowl of salty broth, and for a moment you overlook the fact that someone must have been here to deliver it as you hurriedly shuffle to sit down, scooping noodles into your mouth with the chopsticks resting nearby. Finally, the ache in your stomach eases as you slurp the remaining liquid, allowing it to practically dribble down your chin.
A long shadow is suddenly cast along your room from behind you.
“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying dinner.”
Your spine shoots straight up as you turn, wiping your face with the back of a suddenly clammy palm.
“Y-yes,” you stutter, attempting to hide the utter lack of manners in how you had ravenously consumed the meal.
The man from last night stands in your doorway, leaning against the frame as he crosses his arms. That same smirk spreads across his features.
“Thank you!” you suddenly blurt, aware of your impoliteness. “It was…very good. Thank you.”
Another light chuckle dances across the air. “Please, no need for formalities. I’m simply glad you are enjoying the food. It’s been quite some time since I’ve had to make something for someone other than myself.”
Questions lie along the tip of your tongue, but before they can escape, he turns with a wave. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Wait!” You internally curse yourself again for the interruption, but one question in particular was burning its way through your throat. “I realized I never learned your name…”
“Oh,” he smiles through thin lips. “My name is Suguru, but most call me Master Geto. You can choose whatever name you like.”
Warmth floods your face at the title, and further at his informality. “O-okay.”
With another small flick of his wrist, he continues the path away from your room. “Anyways, goodnight,” he calls into the darkness ahead.
“Goodnight, Master Geto,” you murmur to yourself.
Your second day is all too similar.
You wake.
You dress.
You wander.
You eat.
This time, Master Geto does not stop by your room at all. You’re beginning to wonder what he does all day - hell, you’re beginning to wonder what anyone here does all day, not having seen a single other person.
All that free time leaves you to fester on your thoughts.
When you were a child, you heard the rumors of this place. At first, it was a sort of commune, a community where disillusioned and lost souls could go to find purpose. But when they stopped coming back, the stories twisted into more sinister adaptations. It was a religious group, who worshiped their leader as a false god. Then, it was a sex cult, who offered their bodies to him as a form of salvation. After that, it was a political power who strove to overtake all of society and enact his rules as law.
Time after time, story after story, it was always him at the forefront: some mysterious man who cornered and compelled his followers to obey.
And yet, you find yourself doubting it. How could he lead if he was never present? More than that, who could he lead if there were no loyal servants here to be led?
It didn’t add up.
The townsfolk were known for fear mongering - perhaps it was nothing more than a way to avoid losing any more citizens, to prevent them, too, from joining the strange man in the mountains.
But then again, you can’t quite shake the power you felt radiating from him when you were in that room, the way he so easily manipulated your body (and your thoughts) with nothing more than his words.
The thoughts string together in your mind as you pace the temple grounds during your walks, the only routine grounding you to the passage of time.
Today the sun struggles to shine through the clouds, a general greyness cast upon everything. It’s been almost two weeks, and you’ve barely seen him at all. Occasionally he’ll stop by your room, but only hover in the doorway, never entering. His voice always seems so calm when he speaks to you, offering simple observations about your meals, as though he was slowly investigating your preferences (not that he needed to - you were grateful simply to be fed - but he persisted nonetheless).
Tonight, you return to find the entrance to your room closed, the candlelight from inside casting a welcoming glow. As you slide the shoji open, a familiar scent fills the space. Your mouth waters as your feet carry you forward on instinct.
With the first bite from the bowl, you nearly moan in pleasure at the taste.
“Is it good?”
This time, you don’t jump at his silent approach. Glancing over your shoulder, you smile through a full mouth. “It’s incredible.”
“Good,” he laughs softly, “I’m glad. I was worried it wouldn’t be as good as you remembered.”
“Master Geto,” you swallow, “this is delicious.” Through another bite, your voice lowers, “It’s just like the oyakodon my parents used to make.”
“I know.”
The statement catches you momentarily off-guard, questions catching in your throat making you nearly choke.
He senses the change immediately as your shoulders close off, confusion building behind your eyes. “I apologize if I overstepped,” he begins, uncrossing his arms and allowing them to hang loosely by his sides in the slightly oversized robes, “I remembered that dish being popular in town, so I thought it might bring some comfort.”
“Oh,” you hum, tentatively chewing another bite. It’s a reasonable explanation, you suppose, even if it leaves more uncertainty swirling in your lungs.
After a moment of silence, his presence in your doorway begins to feel…awkward.
Normally by this point he’d have left with a wave, fading into the darkness outside. But not tonight. Tonight, he stays, swaying slightly within the entrance.
As your gaze covers him, the traditional robes remind you - perhaps you were being even more rude than you expected. You still knew very little about him, but maybe he abided by more traditional laws, one that forbade a man from entering a woman’s sleeping quarters without her permission.
(You always thought those rules were a bit silly, but now was not the time for debate - now was the time to learn more about the man lingering outside.)
“Would you like to come in?” You place the question into the air as you swallow the final piece of your dinner.
His grin threatens to tear across his cheeks as he nods politely. “Of course.”
As he approaches the table inside, his presence suddenly feels overwhelming. Even though he’s not physically much larger than you, something about him suffocates the space, his soul spreading out until there’s no room left. It’s stifling.
But when he sits across from you, it gets sucked back into himself. You can breathe again.
“How is the temple?” he asks easily.
“It’s beautiful,” you muse, “but…where is everyone?”
“Everyone?” He cocks his head to the side. “Oh! You mean the others. They aren’t particularly active during the day - you know how hot it gets here.”
In an instant, it feels right - the memories of the brisk mornings become hazy in your mind, replaced with the sun beaming overhead. Maybe you even returned to your room with sweat glistening along your skin after a particularly long walk.
Suguru notices the way your vision clouds over as the experiences rewrite themselves. If you were more present, perhaps you’d be able to decode the emotion flashing across his face as his nose scrunches and eyebrows furrow.
He stands suddenly, pulling you from your internal trance.
“Well, I suppose I should be going now,” he hums, gliding seamlessly to the doorway once again. “Goodnight.”
Before you can breathe a question, he’s gone, the rattling screen door the only proof of his existence.
You think you’re going insane here.
When you fled, you wanted to find something exciting, a new experience, an act of defiance. You wanted something to fill the emptiness in your soul and make you into something else, someone stronger, someone braver, someone more than the obedient little girl you left behind.
But now, with every repeated step through the temple grounds, you feel yourself collapsing inwards. The support beams inside you aren’t strong enough, cracking under the weight of loneliness.
Why wasn’t anyone here?
Why wasn’t anyone helping you?
Even Master Geto’s presence became desired, in spite of the slight unease that brewed within your stomach when he was around. It was like an addiction, as though he knew just how to feed you enough of him to keep you coming back, to keep you starving.
Ironic, isn’t it? That here, in a place with all your needs met, with delicious meals and extravagant clothes and plush beds, you find yourself destitute. Hunger pangs shoot up your chest as you eat alone, the robes begin stifling each breath, too hot even as the days grow colder. Every night you become increasingly acquainted with the wooden beams drawn above your bed.
You’re empty.
On your thirty-first night, after hours laying alone in the dark, you wonder if perhaps the moon would have any advice for you. She’s always watched over you, maybe she could guide you.
Outside, the gravel shifts beneath your feet. The candles are lit once again, lining the paths throughout the grounds. You’ve never seen anyone light them, and yet every night, their flames continue to burn (not that you need them, of course - you’ve grown accustomed to this place, steps tracing it like palm lines).
So you trust your legs when they carry you forward. Until you’re once again at the entrance of the main temple, the same warmth flickering from inside.
The door slides open easily, the hesitation that used to live in your muscles now replaced with tired indignation. You no longer have to wait for Master Geto’s command to enter (even though you want it, you want it so badly, to be told what to do and where to go and how to act and what to think until you’re nothing but his little puppet because then at least you could be something).
A part of you expected him to be in his chambers given the late hour. But a more possessive part hopes he’d be here, waiting for you.
Your lungs breathe a sigh of relief as you feel his gaze. He smiles as you stand in the doorway.
“What’s my little lamb doing up so late?” he coos, beckoning you inside.
Rubbing your eyes, you take your seat on the floor next to him. “Couldn’t sleep.”
It’s been some time since you’ve been here, you realize - perhaps since the first night you arrived - but it feels comfortable, the scent of smoke lingering in the air. And Master Geto is here, too - that surely helps.
“I see. Tell me, would you like me to make you some tea?”
Your head nods on its own, perhaps an effect of your recent insomnia.
Silently, he rises, moving easily through the room to collect his arsenal. Armed with a maroon teapot and a single cup, he returns to where you rest in the center of the room. Dark liquid pours into the mug before he places it in front of you.
The first sip burns your tongue slightly, but you avoid wincing - you wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful. You wouldn’t want to push him away.
Deep eyes watch your every move, drinking you in. That quiet discomfort is back, but you shove it down with a forceful swallow. After all, if you seem distrustful, it may make him unhappy, or worse, leave you. After so long without him, you’re content to sit under his blanket of silence.
“How are you enjoying your time here?”
Your throat catches for a moment. Should you tell him it’s killing you, eating you alive and breaking you down? Should you tell him how much you’ve missed him? No - surely he’d think you strange, you barely know each other despite the time you’ve spent here.
“It’s been…comfortable.”
He tilts his head through a thoughtful hum. He allows the quiet to choke you for a moment before he continues. “And yet, you’re here at this hour. Tell me, why?”
Your lips are moving on your own, fighting against your better interest. “I’ve missed you, Master Geto.”
“Oh?” He seems pleased with your response, letting out that tantalizing little chuckle. “What is it about me you’ve missed?”
This time, you’re able to stifle your voice before it betrays you. Through another sip, you let the words simmer on your tongue before he speaks again-
“Tell me.”
“I missed being told what to do,” you blurt, nearly spilling the tea that had been resting behind your lips.
Thin lips tug into a smirk as he eyes you, and you can’t help but feel you’ve answered correctly, even if it was against your will.
That fear bubbles inside your chest once again, but this time it’s tainted with something else, something hot. Something you would be tempted to call desire.
Adjusting his weight, muscled legs sprawl before him. “Come here, little lamb,” he purrs.
So easily he pulls your strings. In an instant you’re crawling towards him, until you’ve settled upon his lap, head resting on his shoulder. Perhaps a month ago you would have been scared at how easily he maneuvers you to his will, but after countless days left with only your own thoughts to drive you, it’s a welcome reprieve. A body is a heavy thing to carry alone; there’s no harm in letting someone else borrow it for a moment.
Slender fingers card through your hair, melting you beneath his touch. Until all that’s left is a fluid form in the outline of your flesh; it makes it all the more easy to shape that way.
“You must be tired, poor thing,” Suguru hums into the crown of your head.
“Mmm,” you hum in response, eyelids fluttering closed.
“Go on then, sleep.”
And your vision melts into his darkness.
When you wake, everything feels stiff. The room, your body, the blankets cocooned around you. Stale air sits in your lungs as you rise from the bed.
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, landing on wood floors and drawn shades. Everything is covered in a fine layer of dust except you, the only living thing here.
Nothing moves except for your breathing, no sounds besides the mattress creaking as you stand. Your thighs are tense, aching with each step forward. At least your robe is comfortable, even if it’s not the one you remember falling asleep in.
That memory itself feels fuzzy - how long had you been here?
But the slippers on your feet are warm, and you don’t feel that gnawing ache inside your stomach anymore. Maybe it doesn’t really matter.
Sliding the bedroom door open, you wander into the hallway. At the end, flickering candlelight casts a glow across the familiar carpet, the same as in the main building. Oranges and greens blur in your vision as you make your way to it, and your heart picks up its pace as you walk, drawing you in.
It lurches when you see him.
Master Geto.
“You’re finally awake, my little lamb.” His voice is smooth like silk, softer than the sheets that had cradled you as you slept. “Come in.”
The room is beautiful, dark reds and browns lining every surface, especially the bed he lays upon. The material is cool on your skin, flushed from sleep.
“You slept for quite a while,” he hums, beginning to slowly run his fingers over your hair. “Do you feel better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Why thank me?”
“I think…I think it was because of you.” The sentence trails up at the end, leaving it a question. One he does not decide to answer.
“Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, please. Thank you, Master Geto.”
His lips spread into a smile as he rises, silently moving to the teapot resting in the corner. With his back momentarily to you, it’s easier to remember all the questions you ought to ask - how long was I asleep for? where is everyone? why am I here?
But they’re too overwhelming, too big. You aren’t sure he’d answer them, anyways - you aren’t sure you’d want an answer. It’s easier to not ask.
“I’m not sure I should stay here anymore.”
His shoulders stiffen, just enough that the tea nearly spills over the edge of the cup. He sets it down on the table beside you.
“And why is that?”
“I just…” you trail off, holding the mug in your hands. It’s warm, making your palms itch. “I’m not sure there’s anything for me to do here.”
“You keep me company. Is that not enough?”
“It is, but I just…I guess I don’t feel like I’m doing a good job.” It’s easier to speak when you only have to face the steaming liquid held in your lap. “I feel lost without you. I don’t know what to do with my time. I mostly just wander around and hope I see you, or hope you give me something to do. I like that, but I’m not even doing anything. You’re never around during the day anyways, so then I end up festering with my thoughts and just feel worse. I’m losing my mind here.”
A slender finger traces up your neck, tilting your chin so you’re forced to look at him. His eyes hold a dark ice behind them, the kind that would slice open ships and kill sailors in the middle of the night, the kind the sea only makes when it’s craving blood.
“You have a purpose here, little lamb, you just can’t see it.”
You can’t hold his gaze, so you allow it to fall to the pink and red of his lips. “Then tell me what it is! I want to do something, please Master Geto.” Nails leave crescent-shaped marks in your skin as you grip the teacup.
“I can’t tell you, not yet.”
“Either tell me, or I’m leaving.”
You aren’t sure where the words came from, but they shock you as they land. Perhaps some deep part of your soul, some part the moon uncovered on your walk to the temple, growing brighter under her protection.
Fire, then ice flares behind him. He forces his shoulders back, cooling his tone. “Why don’t you drink some tea and calm down a bit, then we can talk about this?”
“I don’t want your tea! I want to know what’s going on!”
“I said, drink.”
The muscles in your arms tighten to bring the cup to your mouth. Liquid is forced past your lips through a choke. It burns your throat.
Once it’s empty, you drop it, the mug clanging against the floor. Tears prick the corners of your eyes in pain, and Master Geto seems tense. Lowering himself to the ground, he gingerly picks up the cup, allowing his palm to graze yours as he rises. Silently, he glides to the corner of the room where steam rises from the still-full teapot.
With everything in you, you force your mouth to move. “How do you do that?” Your voice is hoarse.
“Do what?”
“That,” you stumble, trying to explain. “Make me…do things.”
Six seconds pass before he answers.
“Do you know what obedience means?”
You nod.
“Tell me, what does it mean to you?”
“It means to do as another person says, always.”
Glancing at you from over his shoulder, his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Exactly.” He pours more liquid into your cup, a silent apology in his own misshapen way. “Some must be trained into obedience through leashes and chains, but others are born for it, their souls a softer shape, one that’s easier to mold.”
The mug is warm in your hands as your fingers wrap around the ceramic, accepting it from his grasp.
“Someone like you, for example, was made to obey. You feel it, don’t you? That emptiness when you aren’t being commanded?”
As you nod, something inside you aches, a hole where your autonomy should be. And here is Master Geto, so kindly offering to fill it.
“That makes it all the more effortless to follow someone, you see. I can sense it, the way your body practically begs me to control it.” He explains it easily with a wave of his hand, as though a few sentences could make you understand.
And yet, you do. It feels right to be led by him, molded by him, controlled by him. It’s the comfort you’ve felt, the warmth that clouds your thoughts whenever you’re near him.
“Is that…is that what I’m doing here?” A large hand reaches over to rub slow circles into your back through the robe - his robe, you now realize. “I’m here to follow orders and do whatever you say?”
“No, no, not at all.” A sound close to a laugh brushes through his throat at the thought. “You’re here for something else.”
You finish the second cup of tea - it’s easier to drink now that your throat has already been burned. “Please, tell me why. I promise not to leave, please, Master Geto.”
Dark eyes fall to the empty cup in your hands, then back to you. So powerless in his grasp, the smell of him lingering on your clothes, on your skin, on your breath. An impossible scent to lose, even if you were to run.
“Do you know what a vampire is?”
Confusion swirls in your mind at the question. “Yes? I’ve heard of them, of course. Creatures who live forever and drink blood to survive, right?”
“Exactly,” he smiles, voice smooth like the silk wrapping around your body. “There are other components too, of course. Other powers. The commands, for example. And you’ve heard of those coming back from my temple, yes? How they return with no recollection of their time here?”
“Yes.”
“They were ones who ran - who I allowed to run, of course. They didn’t please me, or they were too weak to keep my company. But as you can imagine, I couldn’t allow them to tell others of what they had seen here, regardless of how stupid some of them may have been. So, they may survive, but the memories must go. And that’s just a fraction of what I’m capable of.” His words rise and fall in pitch, the most visible sign of excitement you’ve ever seen in him, before it flattens again. “Many think vampires are dangerous, but they aren’t, not if they’re able to control themselves. It’s a matter of obedience, you see.”
“Obedience,” you whisper into the empty space.
“If one can stay in control of their desires, it’s barely any different than how a human lives.”
Your hands fiddle with the hem of the robe, teeth chewing on your lip. “Why are you telling me this, Master Geto?”
The finger on your chin trails up until his hand rests upon your cheek. When your eyes finally meet his, he smiles, a gesture you don’t return. Your heart beats loud, pulling you into him.
“You know why.”
And you feel it, in the depths of your stomach. The true weight of his horror, his power, settles like obsidian in your chest. A cough stifles from your mouth from the coal-black dust inside you.
His thumb runs over your lips, pressing down on the plump flesh. You should run, you should scream and beg for help and go back to your parents and pretend this never happened. You aren’t safe here, you shouldn’t stay a moment longer.
All your body can do is quicken your pulse, thrumming up your neck.
Your lips part. His thumb slides past them.
When he smiles, he seems pleased, and you feel warm like the tea spreading through your muscles with each breath. Flickering candlelight casts a shadow across his eyes, and they seem to glow with hunger.
“Are you scared?”
His skin tastes sweet as it settles on your tongue. You slowly shake your head, humming a soft, “No.”
A twitch of a smirk plays across his lips. He didn’t even have to compel you. They spread wider, allowing sharp, whitened fangs to poke through. Your eyes widen and pupils dilate as they dig into his lower lip, red blooming beneath the skin.
“You should be.” He’s leaning forward, until he’s so close you block the light from cascading across his face. In the shadows of your body, he looks monstrous, all flashes of black and white. “And yet, you stay. Tell me, why? What could you possibly hope to achieve?”
Air rushes through your lungs, and the words tumble out in a single breath. “I want to obey you, Master Geto.”
Tilting his head to the side, dark bangs obscure his eyes.
“Ah, I understand now. You really were made for this, weren’t you?”
Sliding his thumb from your mouth, he closes the distance between you. A long finger tilts your chin upwards, locking your gaze on him.
“You want to be good for me, don’t you?”
You nod. You can’t help it - you want to do anything he tells you; you will do anything he tells you.
“Good.” Pink lips brush against yours. His breath is cool as he whispers, “Then lay down.”
The sheets are chilled against your burning skin as your back rests upon them. It’s easier, now, the way you’ve accepted your muscles enacting his will. It feels right to let him pull your strings, letting him shape you into whatever pose he sees fit.
He doesn’t even need to command you to open your legs, large palms spreading your knees apart easily, allowing them to fall with the weight of his gravity. Your clothes are gone in an instant, laid bare before him, returned to your natural form before the god that granted it. It’s only natural.
Hot breath hits your core, cold eyes resting on your face. His thumb trails a path along your skin until it lands upon your clit, each slow circle another rotation around his orbit.
It’s almost too much, your body writhing under his touch, desperation making your hips rut uselessly into him. But he’s just…watching you.
“P-please,” you can’t help but whine, trying to grind into him for any additional ounce of friction. Master Geto simply continues his agonizingly slow pace.
Your gaze meets his for a moment, fire crackling beneath it as his lips tug into a sinister grin, a predator about to consume its prey.
Eat me, your body begs, I’m yours.
Oh, he knows.
His palm opens, sliding two fingers easily into your cunt. Just as he curls upwards, sharp teeth move from poking through his lip into the soft flesh of your inner thighs. For the violence crackling beneath his skin, he’s surprisingly gentle as his canines sink into you.
Because he doesn’t want it to hurt.
Not yet.
The prickling pain tingles your senses as he pulls your first orgasm from you, a faint moan humming in your throat.
When he rises from between your legs, red dribbles from his lips. He crackles with pride, completely unabashed; if anything, he’s proud.
Warmth blankets your body as he crawls on top of you, a wolf stalking a lamb. And you can’t bring yourself to run.
Muscled shoulders bare themselves under the flickering lights as he slowly sheds his robes, pale and morphing, too blurry to focus on. If you were more naive, you’d be tempted to call him an angel.
“You taste so sweet,” he purrs, his face now mere centimeters from yours.
When he kisses you, a mix of metal and cum tangles on your tongues, intoxicatingly you. Every ounce of his weight rests against you until you can’t pull in a breath anymore, your ribs unable to expand below him.
But like always, he grants you mercy.
He pulls back, just enough to let air rush in through your parted lips. Your skin burns where he places a gentle peck to the corner of your mouth.
Because now, you want it to hurt.
And oh, he knows.
That devilish smile curls upon his lips, no longer hiding the fangs behind it. Every beat of your heart makes you dizzy, your vision pulsing with each reverberating thrum. You wonder if he can feel it in your chest.
(He can.)
(He wants to claw it from your body and eat it.)
The remnants of blood lingering on his teeth are wiped away as his tongue swipes over them, an innocent white left in its wake. How perfect a sinner’s body can be.
He’s shifting his weight above you, but you barely notice, too enamored by him, too lost in his eyes, in his depravity. The moment your eyes flutter shut to protect your soul, he’s reaching out to you.
“Look at me, little lamb.”
And then, your gaze is locked on him.
And then, his cock is pressing into you.
Lips part, fire shoots up your spine, a cry dies in your throat. It’s burning and tearing and it’s death and everything is too hot and you’re staring into those eyes with flames behind them and you think you’d let him kill you if he asked.
Not that he needs to ask, of course.
Your back arches off the bed as your eyes nearly roll back into your head but they can’t - because it’s not what Master Geto commanded. Because you always do as he says.
Because you always obey.
Instead, tears prick at the corners and your entire body trembles and he’s staring down at you with pity.
“There, shh, that’s my girl,” he coos. He wipes away a tear with his thumb but he doesn’t stop, not until his pelvis is flush with yours and all you can feel is him inside you.
Ragged breaths rack your core, your walls clenching around him from his size alone.
“You’re being so obedient, so good,” he whispers into the shell of your ear. And the sun bursts through your chest.
A slack-jawed smile spreads across your features at his praise, cheeks warm and full of pride. You’ve done everything you were made for - you’ve made Master Geto happy. You’ve been good.
When he drags his hips from you, his tip catching and pulling and gouging any remaining shred of disloyalty from your consciousness, you know you’re his: your mind, your soul, your body. All his, in any way he wants it.
When he thrusts back into you, the emptiness inside you is filled with him.
Him.
Him. Him. Him. Him.
Master Geto.
All you have ever needed.
All you will ever need.
Master Geto.
Warmth blossoms in your chest as he fucks you into the silk sheets. You are his. You were always made to be his. There’s no pain in it, no uncertainty. It’s as things were always meant to be.
But there’s still something missing, something lingering in the droplet of red beading at the corner of his lips.
Eat me, your body pleads, I’m yours.
“Master Geto,” you whimper, “I…I want…”
As he gazes down at you, there’s a reverence behind it - not to you, no, but to your servitude.
“Yes, my little lamb,” he breathes through the sound of skin against skin. “Tell me what you want.”
“Bite me, Master Geto,” you cry, “please.”
And you feel him laugh, his breath hot against the skin of your neck. “Well, how could I deny my most devoted?”
First, it’s the searing pain of his fangs sinking into your skin. An instant later, it’s the burning pleasure of it.
A moan bubbles from your throat, allowing your head to fall back into his waiting palm, cradling you above the respite of feathered pillows. Because for now, he will hold you; you should be held by him.
Suguru is greedy as he drinks.
Grunts and groans echo from his chest, his body never stilling as he plunges in and out of you in pace with his tongue lapping at your pierced flesh. Just as his teeth pull away he strikes them into you again, and again, and again. Puncture wounds grow across your skin, blooming hues of maroon beneath them, stars decorating the sky, each one a burning supernova moments away from exploding.
They mark you for what you are: his.
“You taste,” he pants, “fucking devine.”
Nails claw at his back, your head lolled back into the sheets, limp beneath him. Of course, you’d move if he told you to - you’d die if he told you to.
Each racing heartbeat makes your vision pulse, head swimming as he drinks from you. Your body melts inside him, warm in his stomach.
The friction of his hips between your legs only grows, until it’s burning like the teeth in your neck. Red flames prick your skin, Suguru’s tongue chasing each one to put it out.
His grunts grow animalistic, a beast pulling muscles and tendons until it’s out of breath. Shoulders tense beneath your palms, and your stomach begins to tighten.
“Master Geto, I-”
“I know,” he growls into your neck. Arms tighten around your body, until they cage in your ribs, until you can’t breathe anything but him. “Cum for me, little lamb.”
Warmth floods your senses, numb save for his cock twitching. He bites down harder as his claim shoots into you, thick and hot.
For a moment, you wonder if he tore flesh from bone. When he removes his head from your collarbone, blood dripping down his chin in thick rivulets, it seems all the more possible.
Licking his lips, he groans at the sanguine flavor pouring down his throat, sweet like honey. When he kisses you, his tongue presses against yours until it lingers in the back of your mouth. Sweet like him.
Low eyes meet yours, a thumb stroking your cheek.
“Stay here, with me.”
And maybe, you will.
It’s easier like this, to be his.
It’s easier to obey.
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yoru-exe · 2 months ago
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KINICH ࣪ ִֶָ ⋆ . heart eyes
kinich isn't sure if he should be embarrassed about it, but if he's being honest, he thinks more than he feels. dealing with emotions has never been his strong suit. so when his system acted funny when he laid eyes on you — a total warrior-stranger at the stadium — it took a very long time for him to understand why he felt so.
when his heart refuses to cooperate, he relies on his wit, like he always does. he couldn't put his finger to his emotion yet, but he knows exactly what to do to something precious — he protects it, like the parcels his clients often entrust him with. so he starts to play the protector role whenever he teams up with you for assignments given by the archon. he look forward to those opportunities much more than he's willing to admit though.
for someone who preaches about allocating a specific amount of energy for task execution, seeing kinich giving extra effort into it sure raises some brows, of which his pixelated companion specifically wouldn't shut up about.
"are you planning to die sooner? that's why you wield your weapon even when i, almighty dragonlord, k'uhul ajaw is up here above all?", his evil laughter boomed in the sky, though fallen on the saurian hunter' deaf ears.
"just shut up and and clear this mess quickly. not like you're doing much anyway". he easily slashed away at an enemy, while ajaw fired is dragon breathe in annoyance, "how dare you!".
the battle ended much faster with them working together. while he didn't want to make it a habit for ajaw to think that he can sit back while he does the hard work, he definitely wanted you to feel so.
"thanks, but i can protect myself, you know."
"i know, but i still want to protect you".
kinich swore he saw your cheek turned reddish. did the heat bother you? it sure was quite sunny that day. before he could ask if you're feeling alright, you quickly moved to inspect the wound on his forearm, so he couldn't see your face anymore. but he's not one to oppose, so he left your to it.
it was a mission that the two of you embarked on a particularly long journey. throughout the travel, he got to know more about you, and each time you open your mouth to speak, he paid close attention to each word you said as if they were magical and he's enchanted.
then, by the time the mission completed, you arrived at a point that's closer to the scions of the canopy, so you expected to walk yourself home on your own. to your surprise, kinich had another plan.
"i'll take you home. do you have everything you need? we can rest first if you'd like to".
it took you a little while to process his action before responding, "but you'll have to circle back to your tribe. mine is still further ahead. you don't have to trouble yourself-".
"i don't mind".
kinich isn't a man of word, but his action speaks so loud that while he's still trying to figure out the emotion he feels towards you, you had already feeling the same for him.
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⊹₊ author's note ₊⊹
i mean, idk, this idea randomly came to me while i was doing laundry of all thing. love at first sight kinich sounds kinda ooc imo? but i kinda like how this one goes sooo
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azrielsshadows42 · 3 months ago
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Azriel SFW alphabet
This has been sitting incomplete in my drafts since March so... idk.
Warnings: I don't think there is any other than some self-deprecating, correct me if I'm wrong, unedited
A = Affectionate (how affectionate is he)
Now let's get this straight, this male LOVES you with every fibre of his body and soul, if you need affection he is there in seconds, he is super observant, so you don't even have to ask, he has at least one small shadow that follows you around to make sure you are alright. Whether you just need to hold his hand or you need him to hold you through the night, he has no problems fulfilling your requirements.
When he needs affection however... is another story, he will almost never ask for it, he doesn't want to bother you, and no matter how many times you tell him it's not a bother he will always feel like he is being a burden to you. You will need to learn how to read him better than anyone because he will not make it easy for you.
B = Best friend (what would he be like as a best friend, how does the friendship start?)
He would be an amazing best friend, always knows when you are feeling down and how to cheer you up, it takes a while but once you are close enough the friendly teasing is hilarious. you would definitely have some inside jokes just between the two of you.
At first it would be him only interacting with you when necessary, he will be as polite as possible cause he doesn't want you to be scared of him but he also doesn't really want to spend a lot of time with you 1) Because he has trust issues and is wary of you, it is kind of his job and 2) Because he doesn't want to corrupt you.
C = Cuddles (does he like to cuddle; how does he cuddle?)
Azriel will completely deny it if anyone asks him but... he actually really likes cuddles, this man is so touch starved he NEEDS skin to skin contact. He is perfectly content to just lay with you in the evenings after dinner, admiring your beauty. And while he trains extremely diligently, he secretly loves when he has a good reason not to train so he can wake up next to and actually have a proper breakfast together instead of just leaving a note with promises to see you later.
Once again will adamantly deny it if asked but his favourite way to cuddle is spooning, he likes to be the big spoon, he loves having his arms wrapped around you along with his wings for extra warmth because he knows you love it, just for that extra reassurance that you are safe and haven't disappeared. He could be convinced to be little spoon for a night if you really wanted it, but it would take some pleading.
D = Domestic (Does he want to settle down, how good is he at cooking and cleaning?)
So, I feel like Azriel would absolutely love the idea of settling down, in concept but would be really scared to do so, not because he's unsure of his feelings for you, no not at all, he loves you wholeheartedly sometimes a bit too much he'd be scared because he thinks you might change your mind. That he isn't good enough or he'll taint your innocence what innocence? It will definitely be a few years, maybe even decades before he is certain you won't leave him for someone "better". And even then, he will need reassurance.
Now when it comes to cleaning, this man is over the top, everything is immaculate, there is not a speck of dust to be found.... ever.
But you see with cooking... I don't know, I feel like it could go both ways, he's either stupidly good at it like, bro??? Where did you learn this? Truly Gordon Ramsey level cuisine. Or... he doesn't know what he's doing, at all. He'll try, he will most definitely try to have you come back to a lovely home cooked meal whenever he has the chance to but... it doesn't always ever come out the way he intends it to. But it's the thought that counts and you really can see the effort he put into it.
E = Ending (if he had to break up with you, how would he do it)
There is only one way (other than unfaithfulness) that he will break up with you, and that is if he feels that you, being with him, is putting you in too much danger. This man has waited 500 years for his mate or anyone to love him as wholly as you do, and ending your relationship will absolutely break him. He'll do it very respectfully and considerately, he will seem composed, yet not cold-hearted, but once he's behind closed doors and he is 1000% sure NOBODY can hear him, there will be tears streaming down his face and the only thing keeping him from going back on it is the knowledge that you are safer this way. His shadows try desperately to console him but nothing they do works, only you could calm him once he's at this point.
F = Fiancé (how does he feel about commitment? How quick would he want to get married?)
He has some commitment issues, the idea is daunting to him but he wouldn't be unfaithful to you, even if it would save his life. He would want to wait a few years before sealing the deal, he wants to know you, your soul, every sweet thought and dark desire, he wants to know everything.
G = Gentle (how gentle is he, physically and emotionally?)
Azriel is all about light touches that leave you wanting more, brushes against your arm with his own, light hand holding, small stolen looks across the room, just the sweetest thing. He tries his very best to hide any emotions he might have that would upset you, very aware of whatever emotional state you're in especially when you don't, needs some help to remember that he is allowed to have negative emotions and doesn't have to be ok 24/7.
H = Hugs (does he like hugs? How often would he hug you? What are his hugs like?)
Azriel doesn't mind hugs, if you hug him, he won't stop you and he will sometimes initiate them but, he's more inclined to other methods of affection; forehead kisses, cheek kisses, hand kisses, small adoring whispers in your ear, more kisses, longing looks, did I mention kisses?
However, when he does hug you, it's usually from behind so he has an opening for neck kisses or when he's just come back from a long mission and needs you in his arms.
I = I love you (who is the first to say, "I love you"?)
You. Definitely you, if you don't say it, the relationship is never happening. He will wait for you to spell it out, and even then, he isn't sure, like: you kiss him on the lips, stare lovingly at him, shyly say goodnight and he'd be like, she could have meant that as a friend, right?
Cauldron save this male; he is in Jude Duarte level denial.
J = Jealousy (How jealous is he?)
On the outside, not at all, very calm, collected, the most you'll see is a clenched jaw, or his hand might twitch toward Truth-Teller. Unless you show signs of discomfort, he will let you be.
On the inside? The leash on his anger is being pulled, and it has been pulled tight. There is no room for give on it. It is so taught that if a bird landed on it, it would snap. Whoever is in range should fucking run. And whoever it is aimed at should write their will and pray.
K = Kisses (What are his kisses like?)
Like I've mentioned previously, he loves giving you little pecks at random points of the day. However, when you're alone and he is just looking at you, and that wave of adoration hits him... he just can't help kissing you slow.
L = Little ones (How is he around kids?/Does he want any?)
Az gets really awkward around most kids, he tries not to get too close to them. He gets over this when it comes to kids he spends alot of time with, namely his nephew, Nyx.
Azriel is really scared to have kids, and at first he is completely convinced that he doesn't want any, though with the right person, He'll have kids, and he loves them more than the world itself. He resigns from his position as spymaster to fully commit to his family, he's got enough money, and he never looks back.
M = Morning (How are Mornings spent with him?)
Most days he is already training with Cassian before you wake up, but every Saturday, he has a slow morning wit you, or you'll wake to breakfast in bed.
N = Night (How are nights spent with him?)
Some nights you shower together, and it's sweet and wholesome, you do your skin routine and he'll watch with a smile fro the door way. You even manage to rope him into a nightly face mask later into your relationship.
He says goodnight with a million kisses all over, pulling the blanket over the both of you and pulls you in close, holding you no matter how much you move around in your sleep. If you're a sleep walker, no you're not.
O = Open (When does he start revealing things about himself? Is it all at once or bit by bit?)
Bit by bit for sure. Every small thing you learn about him is earned, there is no volunteering of information. You have to extract the lore, have to practically drag him kicking and screaming into emotional intimacy. There are no flood gates. It is a tap that never runs, only leaks slightly. It takes ages to get to everything that happened to him, but it is worth the wait. It always will be.
P = Patience (How easily angered is he?)
For you, infinite patience, he will explain and re-explain a topic as many times as you need. He just comes back from going out while it's that time of the year and you say you need/want something else again, no worries, he'll go out and get it for you, as well as being ready for you to say you forgot to tell him you wanted something when he gets back and go out again.
You are allowed to do things that no one else could do and walk out alive, like pranking him, and I don't mean something that Cassian would do, like hide a weapon of his, I mean like:
Azriel walks into the room while everyone is chatting. You immediately notice his presence yelling his name in excitement, heads turn toward him. Cassian spits out his drink, Rhysand's mouth falls open, Feyre gasps, Mor's eyes widen, even Nesta raises a brow. It takes a moment, then the shock wears off, and Cassian bursts out laughing.
"What happened to your hair?!"
Azriel's brow furrows. "What do you mean?" He could see you desperately trying to hold in your laughter, but failed, and sunk to the floor, not able to breathe from how hard you were laughing. He could see Rhysand also fighting it off, but his face cracked, and he to, joined in, Feyre and Mor were not far behind.
"What? What is wrong with my hair?" Nobody could pause their hysterics long enough to say something. He stood in confusion until Amren, the only one who wasn't laughing at all said "It's bright blue, boy" that for some reason unleashed a new wave of giggles and Nesta cracked a smile.
He looked to the mirror hung in the hall, seeing that his hair was indeed a pastel blue, with flecks of purple near the ends. The truth was, he knew his hair would be an unusual colour today, his shadows had caught you buying the magic hair-dye, but he let you swap out his shampoo, as to not spoil your fun.
Even if he hadn't known, the look on your face said everything. "You are lucky I love you" he said, shaking his head and sighing, your smile only broadened at his words, your arms flung around his mid-section and face nuzzled in his chest. "I love you too"
Q = Quizzes (How much does he remember things about you? Does he remember everything in passing or does he forget everything?)
Little secret, Az is actually quite forgetful, when it comes to dates like your anniversary or the inner circle's birthdays (Including his own) he cannot remember it for the life of him. Luckily, his shadows give him reminders but when it comes to the details, like your coffee order, preferred foods, general likes and dislikes, it's like he has a separate compartment of his brain allocated to only you with unlimited space.
"How did you know I liked (Input song name here)"
"I remember you humming it when I walked into the room"
"When? I forgot about this song."
Short pause
"Eight years ago? Give or take."
R = Remember (What is his favourite moment in your relationship?)
If you ask him, he'll probably say when you said 'I love you' for the first time, or that time you woke up after a peaceful night, just looking at him with love but really, it was when he was pissed at Rhys and Cassian for disregarding his dislike of the Illyrians because they wanted him to 'embrace his culture'.
Rhys had sent him to go talk with Devlon and a number of other camp lords when they both had the afternoon completely free, spending it with their mates as if he didn't have a mate too.
After he got back, he had gone straight to you, and you had listened to him while combing your fingers through his hair. He had finally dragged himself downstairs to give Rhysand the news on the camps with you following behind him a few paces.
You waited outside the door, Azriel had opened it, about to leave when Rhys said he also wanted the report of some other mission by tomorrow morning. Azriel didn't even say anything, he'd just sighed and a muscle in his jaw ticked, then Rhysand had made some comment about his attitude, it was spoken with a light tone, but you had had it with his crap.
You had started berating him, yelling, really laying on it, not even letting him get a word in. Not that he could, he was too stunned.
Cassian had made the grave mistake of seeing what the commotion was. You brought him into it. Both Rhys and Cass had to just take it like children being scolded for taking an extra cookie. Neither would meet your eyes when you were done.
You grabbed Azriels hand, pulling him along as you stormed out. Once rounding the corner, you winnowed both you and Azriel to your house muttering under your breath. The only words he actually caught was "Fuck them" before you pulled him into bed and you simply cuddled for the rest of the night and well into the morning.
S = Security (How protective is he? How would he protect you? How would he like to be protected?)
Az is your personal body guard and the shadows are the surveillance cameras. No one in Velaris is safer.
He needs no physical protection, he needs emotional protection. He needs you to guard his heart like a dragon guarding treasure. He needs you to occasionally remind him to stand up for himself against Rhysand and Cassian because he deserves good things too.
T = Try (How much effort does he put into dates/anniversaries/etc?)
In the beginning, he is trying to impress you, to convey how much he feels for you through the dates as he struggles to articulate the enormity of his love. Like booking out theaters, really fancy dinners, picnics with way too much food and so on it's honestly overwhelming.
He eventually dials it back, finding a good balance of well thought out but not OTT (Over The Top). Every once in a while though, he'll still do an extra something.
U = Ugly (What is a bad habit of his?)
His tendency to shrink into himself when he's in pain, to ignore his needs, to put what he wants on the back burner to focus on everyone else.
V = Vanity (How concerned is he with his looks?)
See, the massive injustice of Azriel is that he barely gives 2 shit's, as long as he looks somewhat presentable, he couldn't be bothered to do anything more.
He wears the same thing every day, washes his face, combs hair, and he's ready.
He is blessed with effortless beauty.
W = Whole (Would he feel incomplete without you?)
He always felt incomplete, before he met you, there was a hole, after he met you, that hole was slowly filled up with your laugh, smile, and touch. If he had to lose you, that hole would be ten times as large and gaping, because the entire foundation of his very being went with you.
X = Xtra (A random head cannon for them)
He likes hiding little things like your keys or glasses (If you have them) so that when you ask "Azriel, have you seen my {fill in the blank}" he can stand there with said object in hand and give it to you, all so you'll give him that little smile and a kiss on the cheek.
Y = Yuck (What is something he wouldn't like either in a partner or in general?)
He can handle pretty much anything. There isn't much that could actually detour him from someone he truly loves. He puts up with Rhysand and Cassian every day for cauldrons' sake, but the one thing that is necessary is silence.
Not all the time, and he loves talking to you more than anyone else, but sometimes, after a long, hard mission, talking and general conversation is not something he's up for.
He just needs a quiet night where you're just next to each other, not speaking or anything just, existing.
Z = Zzz (What are his sleep habits?)
Whenever he collapses is entirely up to the mother... unless his ultimate weakness coaxes him into something more regular. If you just so happened to ask him to come to bed early, or asked him to be in bed by 11:00 at the latest because you struggle to sleep without him, and with the puppy eyes and pouty face too, well... how could he resist? He can't go after you have fallen asleep because you hold on to him, he can't just leave in the middle of the night, you'd be cold, and when you inevitably request that he stay an extra 5 minutes, those papers on his desk just have to wait, his mate is more important.
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starsjulia · 6 months ago
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rekindling us // leah williamson
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a/n : based of this request!! also so sorry it’s short, school is currently consuming my being.
trigger warnings : accidental mistreatment of spouse? idk
You weren’t a footballer like Leah. You had your own passions, your own world, but you had always been her biggest supporter. Whenever Leah was exhausted after a long day, you’d make sure the house was tidy, cook her favorite meals, and offer her the kind of quiet comfort that came without asking. You didn’t need her to tell you how much she appreciated you—you believed her actions would show it. But lately, the actions weren’t there. The little things had faded away.
Leah was constantly missing plans. The dates you had carefully planned together were brushed off with a casual “Sorry, training went long,” or “I got caught up with the girls, we’ll do it next time.” You understood, at first. You knew how demanding her schedule was, how much her career meant to her. But the cancellations became more frequent, the nights spent waiting for her to come home stretched longer, and slowly, without even realizing it, you began to feel invisible.
You continued to put in the effort, thinking maybe she would notice if you worked harder. You took on even more around the house, making sure Leah didn’t have to lift a finger when she was home. But Leah barely acknowledged it. She was so wrapped up in her own world that she didn’t see how much you were doing, or how much it hurt to be overlooked.
One evening, you decided to make a special dinner. You knew Leah had been under a lot of stress lately, so you thought a quiet evening together would help her unwind. You spent hours preparing a dish (other than party food) that you knew she’d enjoy, setting the table with candles and soft music, hoping it would be a reminder of the love and connection you shared.
But Leah didn’t come home on time. As the hours ticked by, the food grew cold, and your heart sank. When she finally walked through the door, she didn’t even notice the effort you had put in. She tossed her bag on the chair and casually said, “Sorry I’m late. The girls wanted to grab a drink after training.”
You tried to hold it together, but the disappointment was overwhelming. She had forgotten, again. Forgotten the evening you’d planned, forgotten how much you’d been waiting for her. Without saying a word, you got up and went to the bedroom, tears stinging your eyes.
Leah, oblivious at first, finally noticed the candles, the untouched dinner, the quiet emptiness in the room. Her stomach twisted with guilt as she realized she had let you down again. She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before making her way to the bedroom.
She found you sitting on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down your face as you hugged your knees to your chest. The sight of you so upset shattered her. She had never seen you like this before, and it hit her hard—how much she had been neglecting you without even realizing it.
“Babe…” Leah’s voice was soft, full of regret. She knelt beside the bed, reaching for your hand, but you pulled away slightly, hurt and frustration etched into every movement.
“Do you even care anymore?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been trying so hard, Leah. I cook for you, clean for you, wait for you—just to spend a little time with you. But it feels like I’m not even a part of your life anymore. Like you don’t see me.”
Leah’s heart clenched painfully. She hadn’t realized how much her actions had been hurting you. She had been so focused on her career, thinking you’d understand, that she had failed to see how much you were giving and how little she had been offering in return.
“I… I didn’t know,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I didn’t see how much I was hurting you, and I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. “I feel like I’m doing everything for you, and it’s never enough. I just want to feel like I matter to you. Like I’m more than just someone waiting at home for you.”
Leah’s breath hitched as she took your hands in hers, holding them tightly, as if afraid to let go. “You do matter. You matter more than anything, and I’ve been too caught up in everything else to show you that. I’ve been taking you for granted, and I’m so, so sorry for that. You deserve so much more than what I’ve been giving.”
Your tears fell freely now, but this time, Leah didn’t let go. She pulled you into her arms, holding you close as if trying to make up for all the times she hadn’t. “I’m sorry for missing our dates, for not being there when you needed me. I’ve been selfish, thinking you’d just understand, but that’s not fair. I love you more than anything, and I’m going to show you that. I’ll do better. I’ll be better.”
You sobbed into her chest, the weight of everything you’d been carrying finally spilling out. “I just miss us, Leah. I miss what we used to have.”
“I miss us too,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “And I’m going to make it right. I’ll make sure you never feel like this again. I love you, and I can’t lose you. Not over something like this.”
You stayed there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence between you no longer filled with pain but with the promise of something better. Leah’s apologies weren’t just words; you could feel the sincerity in the way she held you, in the way she promised to be more present, more aware.
In the days that followed, Leah kept her word. She made more time for you—whether it was something as simple as cooking dinner together or making sure you had a proper date night each week. She paid attention to the little things, the ones she had overlooked before. Every day, she made sure you felt loved, cherished, and appreciated.
The connection you shared began to heal, piece by piece. Leah started to see just how much you did for her, and she didn’t let a day go by without thanking you. She showed up for you, not just physically, but emotionally, and you could feel the shift in your relationship.
Leah would wrap her arms around you from behind while you cooked, pressing soft kisses to your neck and whispering, “Thank you. For everything you do. I love you so much.” You’d smile, feeling the warmth of her love and knowing she truly meant it.
It wasn’t long before you both found your rhythm again. The love between you was stronger now, forged through the realization of what truly mattered. Leah’s career would always be important, but she had finally learned that the most important part of her life was you—the person who had stood by her, supported her, and loved her through everything.
And from that point on, Leah made sure that you always knew just how much you meant to her. Because, in the end, no match, no trophy, no accolade could ever compare to the love she had with you. You were her heart, her home, and she would never let you forget it again.
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wandanatrules · 9 months ago
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Hi there!! I saw that you were taking request so I thought I’d put one in! I’m obsessed with a rich/Silver fox Nat x innocent reader. Silver fox Nat is definitely manipulative and possessive and is obsessed with R. Maybe for the fic nat just had a really stressful day and gets home late and needs to take her anger out on R? Maybe g!p too? Up to you!  definitely super kinky
Try To Keep Me
hey idk if this does your request justice, but I hope you enjoy!! not proofread
word count: 1.5k
pairing: CEO silver fox beefy g!p Nat x housewife fem reader
warnings: smut, nat has a penis, cnc, angst, cursing, slapping, arguing, name calling, breeding kink, lactation kink, (let me know if I miss any )
You were done waiting on her. She told you that she was done with the broken promises, and the worst part was that you believed her. When you agreed to be her housewife you thought it would be less cooking, cleaning, housework and more wife.
It seems as though all you do is cook the meals that she demands, yet she never actually eats, do her laundry, clean her house, and be used as her personal fucktoy. She was never like this when you guys were dating. You used to have fun together, she used to look at you with that special twinkle in her eyes, while she held your hands and showered you with praises. You couldn’t remember the last time she even complimented you on something other than your body.
Yet you stayed, it’s not like she didn’t love you, I mean she paid the bills, you never wanted for anything. And the sex. The sex was incredible. She would take you whenever she wanted and it was always hot and passionate. You just wished she would bring romance back into the relationship and make you feel wanted.
You figured Natasha didn’t try anymore because she got too confident that you would never leave. She’s every woman’s dream being a millionaire CEO, who is exceptionally sexy, with her long red hair and the muscular body that she spends hours upholding everyday in the gym. But that didn’t matter to you, you missed the Natasha she was when you were dating, your gentle Natty who would pursue you each and every day, take you on thoughtful dates and cuddle you to sleep every night. You were going to teach her that she needs to put in effort in order to keep you.
”Babe, i’m home.” she says, walking through the front door throwing her stuff to the side, expecting you to pick it up later. “Where are you?” she wondered why you weren’t in the kitchen cooking or cleaning up like you normally were. 
Walking through the house to look for you, she noticed the light was on in the closet of the master bedroom. “What are you doing, babe?” She asked with a furrowed brow as she saw you haphazardly throwing clothes into bags.
”Packing!” You said with a tight lip, pacing around the room trying to get your stuff together.
”Baby, stop! What’s going on? Where do you think you are going?” She said with an amused smirk. 
“What the hell do you think is so funny! Everyday you come in here and treat me like i’m your fucking sex slave that’s just here to please you and be your maid! I am packing my bags and staying with my sister.”, You said while trying to push past her before she grabbed you by your wrist to stop you and turn you to face her. 
“You’re not gonna leave me baby, you know I love you. Daddy is just so stressed out from work, that it’s hard for me to do all the romantic things you love to do.” She says while holding you by the waist. 
“It’s just that I want you to try, there are tons of women that would beg to take me out and buy me flowers, so I think I am going to go find one of them.” You said trying to break away before feeling a harsh sting on your cheek. 
“You are such a slut, any excuse to whore yourself out to everyone. I bet this bag is filled with skimpy thongs and tight dresses for you to escapade around the town in.” She says as she rips the bag out of your hands and grabs both of your hands behind your back and leads you to the bed. 
Pushing you face down on the bed, she rips your house dress down as you try to wriggle from her hold and smiles when she sees that you are without underwear. 
“Look at how pretty you are baby, I can’t believe you thought you were gonna leave me. You are mine, all the panties in that bag are only for me to see. Do you understand!” She says as she harshly slaps your ass. “You know maybe if I fill you up and make you pregnant you’ll be happier with my long hours, having someone to keep you company. 
“Come here.”, She says pulling you up into all fours, before swiping her fingers through your pussy. “You’re so wet for me baby. Is the thought of me getting you pregnant turning you on?” 
“Yes daddy. Please fuck me, i’m sorry.”, You said while humping back into her trying to reach back and unbutton her dress slacks. 
She swats your hands and moves to unbutton her pants and pull them along with her underwear down and tosses them across the room. Her 9 inch length pops out and hits your cunt and starts to harden, she then begins to jerk herself off in order to fully harden. 
Before slipping in she spreads your ass with hands on both cheeks and licks all throughout your cunt, up and down taking your clit between her teeth. “My goodness baby, I can never get over how good you taste.”, She says after pulling away and planting kisses all over your ass and cunt, licking and sucking on the skin of your cheeks in order to leave bruises. 
“God baby you make me so hard I just have to fuck you.”, She says after pulling away from your ass and lining her cock up with your entrance. With one strong thrust she bottoms out causing you to yelp. Picking up the pace, she grips your hips and with a steady speed she continues to ram into you from behind.
“Oh Natty, please it feels so good. You fuck me so well, I can’t take it i’m gonna cum.”, You say humping back onto her trying to match her pace. 
“Oh not yet baby, you better hold it until I fill you up with my kids.” She husked into your ear, while reaching down to play with your clit. That combined with the unmatched stamina she has from her daily workouts, is making it impossible to hold out.
”Please, please, please, Nat please I’m gonna cum!” 
“Okay baby, don’t worry I got you. I’m right there with you, so cum when you’re ready.” She grunts out in your ear while violently ramming into you trying to catch her high. “Uhh, there you go. Take it all, baby take all my cum.” She releases her load into your cunt, causing you to come right after her. Pulling out she flips you over and pushes you onto your back, fingering the oozing cum back into you to make sure it sticks. 
Pulling her fingers out of your cunt, she licks them and then kisses up your body. Starting between your thighs, she kisses a trail up your stomach, stopping when reaching your chest. “You’re gonna look so sexy as the mother of my children.”, She says while pulling your nipple into her hot mouth, sucking and taking the other one between her skilled fingers, pulling and twisting. “I can’t wait for these tits to be filled with your sweet milk, for me to drink.”
“You know you can’t just fuck me and expect me to forget what i’m upset about!”, You say in between moans as she continues her assault on your boobs.
”Okay, yeah you’re right baby. Tell me, what were you upset about?”, She says, lifting her head from your breasts, looking face to face, with a smirk. 
“No, i’m being serious. Of course I want us to have kids, but I don’t want to feel like a single mother. I want a wife that cares about her kids and spends family time with them and her wife. Please, Nat, I hate that I have to beg you to romance me and make me feel like I mean something to you!” You sit up and cover yourself with the blanket, while you wait for her to reply.
“Yes I understand baby, come here.” She says while pulling you into her lap. “I know i’m not the most present with you, and it seems like I only care about your body when I am stressed out from work, but I don’t. You are the love of my life, and I couldn’t live without you. I am so sorry that I have been so lousy at showing you that. I promise that I will try everyday to show you how much you mean to me and how much I need you. I don’t even know what I was thinking, not treating you like the goddess you are.” She said, grabbing you by the face and placing a kiss on your mouth. 
You move to straddle her hips and grind down on her length, “Okay, baby if that’s how you feel I think we should keep going if we are gonna start trying to have a family.”, You say, leaning in to kiss her again.
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rationaliity · 9 months ago
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cockwarming | dr. ratio & gallagher
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here you areeee !! your wish is my command ~ ratio and gallagher are a little mean but that's really it. also slightly ignoring on gallaghers part ? it makes sense when you read it idk i cant think of what that kink is called for the life of me
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RATIO —
ratio was going to make you listen, even if he had to force it a little bit. it wasn't directly his fault that you weren't able to stay still, sat on his lap with your arms lazily slung over his shoulders, your legs straddling his with his cock firmly inside of you, stretching you out. he'd told you to do something simple : just keep his cock warm for him while he finished this bit of paperwork that he had to do, and then he would reward you for your time and efforts. if he could do something he didn't necessarily want to do, then so could you.
at first, you were all too eager to agree to these terms, even unzipping his pants for him and getting on your knees to get his cock wet enough for it to slide in easier. this was new to you, so of course you wanted to try it out to see if you liked it. besides, how often do you get to bother ratio while he's working on his papers ?
but now you were whining in his ear, begging for him to do something. you couldn't take this anymore, not with him filling you up all the way to the top and just staying there. you were completely stretched around his cock, milking him for all that he was worth. and with every annoyingly pitiful whine, you squeezed around him even more than you already were.
" you seem to have a problem following even the most simple of tasks, " he lowly hissed in your ear. his free hand that wasn't holding his ink pen grabbing your ass, his fingers digging into your flesh, making you squeal a little. " i ask you to do something as easy as sitting still, and yet you still find a way to mess it up. i wonder how. "
despite his cruel words, you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, begging for more attention than what he was getting. the both of you were at your breaking point, needing more than just the warmth of your bodies colliding, but his ego wouldn't let him admit that he couldn't hold himself back either. and if you were to mention it, he would surely find a way to turn it back on you.
finally, he sat his pen down, both hands on your waist, picking you up and sitting you on his desk. you yelped almost immediately as you were separated from his body, the friction of him sliding out of you almost making you orgasm right there after thirty minutes of just sitting as still as possible, but before you could really react, his lips were on yours, tasting you feverishly. ratio's hands forced your legs apart, grabbing each of your thighs so he could nestle himself in between them, his cock more than a little ready to release everything inside of you.
" i've found your specialty lies more with taking my cock rather than warming it. "
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GALLAGHER —
you figured that there was going to be absolutely no way that gallagher had better control over himself than you did. he was always needy whenever he could afford to be, always asking for your time, always wanting more of you than just a simple kiss here and there. so when the two of you made a bet that he could restrain himself from fucking you with his cock inside of you, you thought you just had a unique way of initiating sex as a game.
several minutes later, and gallagher had his cock nestled inside of you, and seemed perfectly content to continue doing what he was doing beforehand, much to your confusion. he had one hand lazily holding your waist as you sat on top of him while he laid in your shared bed, his other hand scrolling on his phone, probably looking at new drink mixes that he hadn't thought of before. that's really all he used social media for, which honestly didn't surprise you in the slightest.
and you were struggling, even though you didn't want to admit it. you really thought he would've cracked by now and started to fuck into you, but no, he hadn't. but you were dripping with need for him, needing more of him than what you were getting, and you were beginning to grow as desperate as you were impatient.
" gallagher- " you whimpered a little bit, your voice coming out as far more needy than you anticipated. " how are you holding up ? " you asked, hoping that this was all just a facade. but nope, he just glanced towards you, looking up from his phone with an almost unamused look on his face.
" i'm perfectly fine, doll. why ? didja think that just because i want to fuck you, it means i absolutely need to ? " if you were anyone else, maybe that would've stung a little bit. but you knew how he was at this point, that slight arrogance in his tone even when he didn't intend to sound egotistical was just how he sounded. but he was getting you back for thinking you had one over on him, that was for sure. you wanted to prove him wrong, but you were playing right into his hand.
" if you want it so bad, then do the work yourself. come on, doll, show me how worked up you can get. "
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— ♡ rationaliity 2024
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caeliuluru · 1 month ago
Text
and all i am, is a mess
Summary: Xavier reflects on your relationship for a bit and picks you up from your apartment for your date. He's surprised to find that (1), you just woke up, and (2), you're wearing his sweater.
Title from a misheard lyric from Sweater Weather by The Neighborhood
Tags: Xavier/MC, Xavier/Reader, Fluff (as usual), Established Relationship Xavier/MC, female MC, MC is shorter than Xavier in this one, Filipino MC (if you squint)
A/N: i wanted to experiment with writing xavier's a POV more. idk how i ended up with ~2k words of fluff no plot tho lmao. enjoy~
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After a few missed alarms, Xavier finally wakes up. The birds chirp, meaning that at least, it’s still morning. He’s in his own apartment, since he’d went home ahead after you told him you’d be staying out later than usual because of your girls’ night with Tara and Simone. As he sits up to turn off the alarm, he runs a hand through his messy bedhead, missing your heart eyes and the “Xavier, you’re so cute!” you let out whenever you see it.
It’s interesting how you’ve changed him. He thought that he could hide away his solemn devotion to you, that he could present a side of him that was serious, strong, and sincere in a way he was used to. But now, he’s waited so long for you that waking up alone without seeing your adorable, peaceful face (although you’d beg to differ on your looks, he can hear your voice begging him to delete the photos of you with drool), is time too long away from him. It’s childish, he knows. But he misses you.
But…he can bear the feeling for a few minutes more, because you did promise him that the two of you would go out today. Just a little bit more and he’d be able to spend some alone time with you outside of the Hunter’s Association. He’s always reminded you to adjust the part for life in work-life balance, and he’s glad to be a part of the solution.
So, Xavier goes about his routine. He attempts breakfast, looking for something easy to make lest the fire alarm ring, and settles for pork and beans. After a quick shower, he then pulls on his white jacket, black turtleneck, and jeans and brushes his hair, trying to style it in a way that looked both neat and messy. If you liked the wavy bedhead, surely there was a way to have a more presentable version of that? But despite his attempts, he still ends up with his usual hair. Before you, he wouldn’t have exerted this much effort in getting ready, but knowing that he’s seeing you makes him want to look good in front of you. After spritzing on his cologne and grabbing his keys and wallet, he heads to the 5th floor to meet his partner, probably awake and dressed.
Xavier’s about to ring the doorbell, but a glance at your digital lock reminds him— he could just let himself in. He’d reasoned out not using his fingerprint with “special circumstances,” but the look on your face when you told him you had imagined him using it regularly… right. His hand raps on the door thrice, remembering his promise to knock three times to let you know it was him. He chuckles at the memory, and the way you’d reassured him that he’s the only other person whose fingerprint is registered on your door lock.
To his surprise, though, there’s no smell of food, no indication that you were already awake. He calls out your name.
No response.
After removing his sneakers and putting on his house slippers, the hunter scans your kitchen and living room. The kitchen island and coffee table are clean, and the couch is exactly the way you had left it the morning before you both left for work yesterday. While you did enjoy sleeping in, especially when either of you would stay the night at each other’s respective apartments and had nothing to do the next day, you were usually punctual. It was usually you who’d knock on his door first, only to be greeted by a drowsy Xavier who had just woken up.
Perhaps this was a shift.
Xavier, careful to quiet his steps, pads towards your bedroom. In this unique chain of events, he’d gently rouse you from your slumber, kiss your head, and make you a quick coffee before you get dressed and head out on your date with him. You deserved to relax, and the two of you wouldn’t let a little bit of lateness impede your plans for the day, especially when simply spending time in each other’s presence was enough.
He’s about to put his hand on the knob before the door suddenly bursts open and reveals a frantic you with messy hair and pillow marks on your face.
“What— Xavier!”
You look up, head shifting quickly from his casual getup to the ocean blue of his eyes.
“What time is it? I’m so sorry! I overslept because I got home late and—”
He hears you, but then the signals of his brain tune out your panicked rambling as the first thing he sees after your cute expression is your body enveloped in his white sweater, falling past your hips and reaching mid-thigh. The sheer largeness of it on your frame makes you look smaller than you already are, and his eyes flit over to the way the sleeves cover your hands. Stars, you look nothing short of comfy in his sweater, and he’s inches away from carrying you back to your bed so he could cuddle you for the rest of the morning… or the whole day, even.
Now he’s short-circuiting too.
“Xavier!”
You call his attention.
His brain static goes silent. Oh, was he caught in the act?
You look at him with a pout, expecting a response to your embarrassment over being late and unprepared, because you really did like being On Time, and he knows that, so why isn’t he saying anything? Was he mad? The pout shifts to a resigned frown, and he realizes that he has to rectify the misunderstanding so that you don’t end up thinking things that simply aren’t true, even if he finds you adorable, big sweater and embarrassment and all.
“Come on, just wait on the couch, I need to wash up and change my clothes.”
You’re about to step aside him and move to your bathroom when he suddenly picks you up in a princess carry, hearing your surprised “Huh?!” and depositing you onto the couch. He flops on top of you, head right on your chest where he can hear your heartbeat, and embraces you once again, nuzzling into your warmth.
“Xavi…” your voice takes on a softer tone as you watch him get comfortable. “What are you doing? I thought we were going to go out today.”
He hugs you tighter and burrows his head into your chest and the soft cotton. He smells his usual cologne on the sweater, and smiles at the thought of you falling asleep to his scent. “We will. You’re just too cute. I couldn’t resist.”
Warmth also floods into your cheeks at his response. You look down at your boyfriend, very much happy and comfy, then at your hands, hidden under the white sleeves. “Wait…” you realize. Right, it’s Xavier’s.
Your voice fills the air. “When I got home last night, I just took a shower and changed quickly. Your sweater and my pajamas were the first thing I saw in my closet drawer, so I just took those.”
He feels your hands brush his bangs away, probably to check if he was still awake. He nods. “I’m listening.” He looks up to gaze contentedly at you. “I’m glad you got home safe.”
“You’re also glad I didn’t return your sweater.” You point out.
Xavier hums affirmatively, pleased.
Looking for something to do with your hands, you poke his cheek, then switch to pinching and pulling at it lightly.
“This is what I get for my generosity?” he pouts, and you return your hand to the spot on his back before he can grab it. Xavier hears you chuckle, and well, you’re smiling now, too, so that’s a win in his book. He lets himself sink into the plush of your chest, of you and the couch, and there isn’t anywhere else he wants to be.
“It’s called cute aggression, Xav. Gigil,* if you will.” He adjusts himself upward so that he can slot his head into the space between your neck and shoulder.
“Mhm, is that so?”
Xavier continues cuddling you, listening to your breathing and heartbeat. You feel his arms wrap slightly tighter around your torso, and you resign yourself to running your fingers through his moonlight hair, playing with the strands, while your other free hand settles on his back. The noontime sun begins to stream in through your window, and his hair catches in the light. The two of you stay this way for a few more moments before your shoulder starts to feel numb, because as lovely as holding Xavier is, his height means that he is heavier than you are.
Your voice, again, fills his ears, soft and coaxing. “Xavi, this is really nice. But I want to go to the bookstore. and the park, and the noodle restaurant. Also, heavy.” Xavier acquiesces, always weak for your voice (a simp is what you had once called him), and shifts your positions, the two of you moving around on the couch so that you’re leaning on his chest this time, facing him and snug between his legs.
“Was there anything else you wanted to do today?” He tucks the stray strands of hair behind your ear, locking his ocean blue eyes with yours. “Well… I also wanted to play video games when we got home. Hmm... It Takes Two?”
He lets out a quiet laugh. You’re pretty, he thinks, in his clothes and bathed in sunlight and just doing whatever You does. “We can, but we have all the time in the world right here. You should relax.” He brings another stray lock of hair away from your face, and you sigh contentedly.“
Apart from the fact that I’ve kidnapped your sweater, what else is going on with you?”
“Me?”
He takes a moment to think. Was he acting strangely? Was it weird to be so lovestruck by your girlfriend? Notwithstanding the fact that you were wearing his clothes, he’d always find you cute. And do anything for you in a heartbeat. What did you notice? He would respond with something witty, try to recover some semblance of calm and collected Xavier, but the earnestness in his heart makes him honest, and he looks in your eyes again.
“I just missed you.”
“Silly, it was just a night.” “Still. Unless you didn’t miss the person you left behind.” He feels your hand smooth the parts of his hair you played with earlier, and you tilt your head up to kiss him. Upon feeling your lips on his, he returns the kiss. Xavier then moves his hand to your lower back, supporting you as you lean towards him again. Your hand rests on his shoulder while the other cups his face, bringing him closer to you. One kiss becomes two, and three, and you feel his tongue run across your lip before you move away, the two of you already gasping for air.
“Xavier,” He looks at you again, his guiding starlight and the reason he wakes up in the mornings. You feel his hand moving from your arm to your hand, thumb stroking the back of your palm, and you grin. You hope he knows how adored, how loved he makes you feel. “Dummy. Of course I missed you too.” Xavier gives a relaxed chuckle, and pulls you in again for a hug before kissing the top of your head.
Maybe this was devotion too. Sometimes, he doesn’t recognize himself, but if it’s someone that you’re still willing to love and miss— he’s perfectly fine with change.
And this was, a good start to the very good day Xavier and his girlfriend would have.
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A/N: *Gigil: Filipino term for cute aggression. that's how i first understood cute aggression anyway so i decided to use my native language haha
divider by @cafekitsune~
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