#he isn’t in any pain or discomfort (at least not that he told me) so i am honestly not super worried about it

[threnodians]

having a breakdown because i’m severely depressed and i have been so stressed lately and i am so fucking sick of constantly feeling like shit and death and exhausted and miserable

[storm-angel989]

Outside the Office Part Eight

Hi All! Mature content warning (it is Valentino, after all). Enjoy!

I awoke the next morning to the shrieking sound of an alarm clock. I groaned and snuggled tighter to Valentino. He rolled over and hit his phone until it finally fell silent. 

“Mmm. Good morning, Princessa.” He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine, a soft smile playing across his features. “I could wake up to this pretty face every morning.” He ran the back of his hand down my cheek. “How do you feel? Did the epsom salt bath help last night?” 

I shivered but nodded, tucking my head to the base of his neck as I recalled the events of the night before. A few hours after I had fallen asleep against Valentino, I woke up, every muscle in my body screaming in pain. He had kissed me, and upon learning of my discomfort, he closed his computer and ran the warmest, toastiest bath I had ever had the pleasure of soaking in. 

He had gone out of his way to set up the bathtub well before he carried me over and sinking into the bathtub felt the same way heaven should. Honestly, the more I thought about it,  to call it a bathtub would be an understatement. His bathtub could easily fit both Valentino and I, and at least two others, with room leftover. He sat across from me while I soaked, punching away on his laptop. “Just be quiet, Princessa.” He had told me. “I need to concentrate on this.”  To see him go from working, the serious expression on his face as he concentrated on his laptop to the soft expression when he looked up at me sent butterflies all through my body. 

“It did,” I replied sleepily. I loved waking up next to him, feeling him underneath me. Protecting me. I wrapped my arms around him the best I could. “I feel much better now.” 

He took my chin in his hand and tilted my face as he studied it. “You look better. The bruises are already starting to turn. You meant it when you said angels healed fast.” He gently let go of my chin. 

I snuggled back against him. With the sleepiness still in my brain, I let out a half laugh. “I mean, it makes sense though that when I was back home I still healed slower than the other angels I trained with.” I snuggled closer to him. “But I was held to the same timeline, even when it still hurt. It made me tough.” 

I heard him take a sharp inhale and looked up to see him as he clenched his jaw. He pulled me up to his chest and pressed his lips to my forehead. 

“That isn’t okay, and it will never happen to you again. Not while I’m around,” he said through gritted teeth. 

Warmness spread through me at his words. My head against his chest, tucked under a mound of blankets, I would have laid there all day if I could have. After a few minutes of cuddling, he sighed and slowly sat up, moving himself carefully so as to not aggravate my pain. 

“As much as I would love to stay here all day with you, I have to work today.” He said, echoing my thoughts. He kissed me again. “And you’re going with me.”

It wasn’t fear that rushed through me, but the idea of going back to that place made me uneasy. Sending my discomfort, he wrapped both his arms around me. 

“No harm will come to you, not this time nor ever again. I promise.” He kissed the top of my head. “After today the world will know that you belong to me, that you are the princess of hell, and no one will fuck with you ever again, lest they face the wrath of Lucifer himself.” He nuzzled into me. “Believe me when I tell you what you saw in the bathroom that day, isn’t a fraction of what the king of hell is capable of.” 

I didn’t answer. I wondered, not for the first time since my arrival, if being half demon came with any perks- like the strength and quick healing benefit from my angelic side. I made a mental note to text Lucifer and ask him. What’s the worst he could do, not respond? Tell me no? I buried my face into him as those feelings washed over me. 

Under me, Valentino let out a steady exhale and lifted both of us up. “Shall we get ready for the day?” He leaned in and gave me a smile, his lips hovering against mine. “I think we both need a wake up shower.” He swung himself off the bed and offered his hand. “Come, mi amor.” 

His hand in mine, I gingerly stood up. He waited for me to find my balance, testing a few steps slowly. Once I was sure of my footing, I followed him into the bathroom, his fingers intertwined with mine. 

“Sit on the counter. You haven’t moved very much over the past few days.  You’re going to be sore.” He lifted me up and set me on the counter.  “I’ll give you something to keep you comfortable throughout the day. It will last longer, and work better than ibuprofen.” He dug through and came up with a vial, and a wrapped syringe and needle. He reached for my arm. 

I jerked away from his touch. “Absolutely not. No. I’m fine with just the pills. That’s all I need. It’s all I’ve ever needed, and more than I’ve received on more than one occasion. I will survive.” 

He looked torn. “But Princessa. It won’t get you high, I promise. I wouldn’t do that to you. It will only make you more comfortable.”

“I said no.” 

He sighed in frustration but put everything back in the drawer, rummaging around again and pulling out a thermometer. “Fine. Here, put this under your tongue before Vox bitches at me again.” 

I opened my mouth and he placed it under my tongue. I closed my lips around it and waited. He walked away from me and opened the shower door. I heard the steady stream as the water began to fall and watched as steam floated towards the top of the room.  

He turned his attention back to me and crossed his arms. “Sit. Stay. I’ll go get more ibuprofen from your room. I gave you the last of it before bed last night. And remind me to write it on the board so housekeeping brings up more.” He stepped out, closing the door behind him. 

I continued to wait as patiently as I could for him to come back. I looked around the bathroom, trying to find something to keep my interest. Much like Valentino’s room, it was decorated sparsely. But instead of the reds and purples that made up his bedroom, his bathroom was primarily white and gray, with gold accents sprinkled throughout. The shower itself was huge, and between that and the bathtub, the majority of the space should have been taken up. Instead, Val had a double vanity directly across from the shower. The rest of the amenities, including a second sink, sat further in the back of the room, not too far from the tub. 

My first time in the shower I hadn’t been with it enough my first time in it to realize just how vast it was. Unlike my combined shower and bathtub at my fathers house back home, his shower was more like a solidly tiled room with several different shower heads scattered about. Shelves lined the walls both when you first walked in, and scattered throughout. Although we didn’t use it, there was a solid bench made of tile off to the side with several shower heads directly above it. I wondered what the purpose of that was. So someone could sit and shower maybe? 

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening and he walked back in, muttering angrily to himself. The door slammed and I jumped. 

He frowned and touched my cheek. “I’m sorry for startling you. Open up.” He took the thermometer out of my mouth and held it up to the light. “Normal. Good.” 

“Are you good?” I asked with concern.  

“I’m just running late, babe.” He kissed the top of my head and helped me down from the countertop. He pressed two pills into my hand and filled a cup of water for me. “Ibuprofen. As promised. Take it. Now.” 

“Thanks, Val.” I took the medication and tossed the cup in the garbage. From the corner of my eye I watched him take his pajamas off.

“Princessa. I don’t have time this morning,” he warned. He came over to me and tugged his shirt off over my head.  

“What? I’m just admiring what’s mine.” I laid my hands against his abdomen, feeling his hard muscles. God, could this man look anymore like something out of a magazine? I wondered what would happen if I slipped my hand just a little lower….

He rolled his eyes and took my hand in his. He tugged me forward and opened the shower door. “After you, Princessa.”

I stepped inside and settled myself under a stream of warm water. I allowed it to wash over me, feeling the instant relief it offered. I tried to lift my arms above my head, letting out an involuntary hiss as my muscles contracted. Ever watching, Valentino stepped behind me and squirted shampoo in his hand,  lathering my blonde hair. 

“Vel is going to do your makeup in her room this morning,” he said as his fingers pressed against my scalp.  “Unfortunately, I have to deal with a fire downstairs so she’ll text me when she’s done and I’ll come back up and get you.” 

“You’re leaving before me?” 

He sighed, “I don’t want to. I have to. I’m sorry Princessa.” He moved my body back under the water. “ Don’t talk. Close your eyes.”

I did as he told me, holding onto him for balance as he worked his fingers through my hair, ensuring all the shampoo was out. After a few minutes, he pulled me out from under the water, guiding me to a hotter stream of water. “Let that hit your muscles for as long as you can take it.” 

I watched him run soap over his entire body. He closed his eyes, letting the water run over him. I bit my lower lip, trying to keep myself under control.  “I understand Val. Work comes first back home too.” 

Annoyance flashed over his features. He stepped out from under the water and pulled me to him. “Princessa. I mean this in the kindest way, but heaven sounds awful.” 

“It  wasn’t so bad.” I said as I nabbed the bar of soap from him. “I just learned tough lessons, that's all.” 

He took the soap back from me and turned me, running it down my back. “That sounds like a fucking trauma response if I’ve ever heard one. And believe me, I’ve heard plenty.” He grabbed my waist and pulled me back under the stream of water, kissing my neck. “You will never go through that again.” 

I believed him. I leaned into him and I felt the same warmth I had felt the night before ignite in my belly. “Mmm…Val.” 

He nipped my neck ever so gently and I relaxed into him. 

“Don’t mmm Val me, Princessa. You’ll make me more late than I already am. I’m just trying to speed things along.” His tone changed to light and playful. “Though touching your body is an added bonus.” He ran his hands down my hips and titled my chin up so our eyes met, kissing me as the water cascaded around us. He broke away after a moment and turned the water off. 

“Val…” I leaned my head into him. 

“Oh no no no. I mean it, I’m late.” He opened the door and tugged my hand, pulling me out with him. 

He grabbed a towel and paused as he caught sight of my body. I felt the tinglement of embarrassment as his eyes seemed to study me,  his expression unreadable. He stepped forward after a moment and ran a hand down my sides, pausing at my waist. 

“Looks like all the bruises are starting to yellow up, not just the ones on your face. Lucifer was concerned about the ones on your belly…but they look okay.” He bent over and kissed down my body, starting at my neck and pausing, for the briefest of moments, as his fingers brushed my nipples. 

I let out an involuntary gasp as he continued to move lower, his lips hovering above my belly. He carefully kissed around the green and yellow splotches before pausing and standing up, back to full height. Even from under the towel, I could tell he was rock hard. 

“I thought you didn’t have time,” I panted, reaching my arms around his neck. 

“I don’t. But work be damned.” He lifted me up and set me on the counter, spreading my legs. He lowered his head and his lips pressed against my lower belly.

“Relax, Princessa. You’re going to enjoy this.” 

I felt his lips move lower, his tongue flicking my clit.  I moaned at the feeling, gripping him. “Valentino!” I hissed as I bucked my hips. Unconcerned, his tongue slid lower, slipping inside of me. I felt my body explode in a thousand nerve endings and I dug my nails into him as I came. 

“Valentino!”

“Mm…princessa, you taste so sweet.” He brought his head up and kept his hands around my waist, pulling me to him. 

I rested my head against his sternum, trying to catch my breath as I came down from the release. “Fuck, Valentino!” I whispered. Every single nerve in my body tingled. 

He chuckled, but rubbed my back. “Easy baby girl. I’ve got you.” He pressed his lips to mine and pulled back gently, reaching over to his phone on the counter. He hit the home button and cursed under his breath. He pressed his lips to mine again and lifted me back to the floor, taking a moment to steady me in his arms. I gripped him gently, head against his chest as I stared at the wall. I closed my eyes. 

“Babygirl.” He said softly. “We can’t sleep. Come on now, we need to get ready, or we’ll throw Vox’s schedule off too.” He gently pushed me up, holding me by my shoulders as he looked at me with concern. “Sweetheart. Are you alright?”

“More than alright.” I leaned in for another kiss. “I want more.” 

He sighed heavily and pressed his lips to mine before pulling back.  “Princessa. I would love nothing more. But we’ve got to get going.” He nodded towards the counter. “Use the sink on the right. I asked housekeeping to bring over a few of your things after you went to bed last night. They’re in the top drawer, organize it to your liking later. They’ll replace what they took in your room, so if you end up spending the night with me you don’t have to go running back and forth.”

I smiled at his thoughtfulness, and leaned over to kiss his cheek, “Thanks Val.” 

He shooed me away, but gave me a soft smile. “Go on. Get ready. And don’t dry your hair. we don't have time. Vel will take care of it.” 

I dug through the drawer,  pleased to find he really did bring over everything I needed. I set to work, going through my own morning routine. By his side, I watched him do the same. There was something oddly comforting watching him get ready, something that made him seem more…human-like wasn’t quite the word I was looking for. Softer maybe? I wasn’t sure. Looking in the mirror at my splotchy face, I picked up my pink comb and began to work on my hair. 

He stepped over to me. “Vel can handle the knots. Come on, I have to go. “ He took the comb from my hand and set it down.”And before I forget to remind you, you need to eat before I get back up here.” 

I nodded and watched as he dropped his towel. I bit my lip, and he shot me a knowing look before he covered himself in a black bathrobe. He tossed a matching robe over my shoulders and I let my own towel hit the ground. He leaned into my back and reached around the front of me as he tied the belt around my waist, making sure I was covered. 

“Come on, Princessa,” he said softly in my ear, “you can sit on the bed while I get dressed.” 

I followed him out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed, watching as he disappeared into his closet, remerging moments later dressed in black pants, a matching belt with a gold heart shaped buckle, and a black button up shirt, tucked in neatly at the waist. He threw his signature red coat over his shoulders and adjusted his glasses. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Why do you wear glasses, Val?” I asked as he took my hand, leading me down the hall. 

“They cut the harshness of the light in the studio,” he answered. “Otherwise I end up with a headache. But I wore them so often they kind of became a thing, so now I wear them whenever I’m out. Honestly, it helps a ton, and  I don’t get nearly as many headaches as I used to.” 

He knocked quickly on Velvette’s door. “Vel? It’s me. Open up.” 

I heard the door unlock and Velvette stood, looking as perfect as ever. 

“Ah! Reader. You…your bruises turned yellow. And green. That’s going to change everything I had planned. Come in, come in, I have breakfast for you. Nothing fancy but you can eat while I do something with that hair.” 

Valentino kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you later, my love.” He gave Velvette a look. “Take care of her.”

“Shoo. You’re disgustingly late. Goodbye!” She closed the door in his face and looked at me. “Follow, follow.” 

I trailed behind her as we crossed the room, taking in the designs as best I could at her quick pace. Unlike Valentino’s room, Velvette was rich with deep red with black and silver accents sprinkled throughout. I didn’t have nearly enough time to look around before she led me through a door and pointed at the salon chair in front of a mirror.

“Sit! Sit. Here. Eat.” She handed me a granola bar and a bottle of Sweet Sixteen. “Get these down and then I’ll grab you a cup of coffee if you want it.” 

I unwrapped the bar and took a bite as she busied herself with my hair, effortlessly unknotting it. She blew it dry and styled it to her vision as I quickly finished breakfast. True to her word, she paused and got both of us a cup of coffee once my hair was finished. 

“Thank you, Vel.” I said, sipping from the red, heart shaped mug. 

“Of course. Coffee is important. Coffee is vibes.” She took a drink from her own mug and studied my face. “How are you? Is Val treating you okay? Love him, but he can be a real dick sometimes, but don’t tell him I said that.”  She paused. “Actually, you can tell him I said that. He’ll laugh.” 

I smiled at her concern. “ Vel, honest and truly he makes me feel safe in a way no one else ever has. I love him, Vel.”

She seemed satisfied with my answer. “I get it,” she responded as she set down her empty mug. “I feel that way about Vox. But sweetheart, don’t be afraid to put him in his place when needed. Sometimes it’s necessary.” 

I drained the rest of my cup and she spun me around to face her. 

“Enough of that. Let’s get your makeup done. It will need to be touched up before you go with Vox. You don’t need to do anything, I’ll meet you down in his studio right before you go on set. But for what you’re doing with Val this will be fine. Close your eyes.” 

I did as she told me and sat patiently waiting as she gently covered my face in a plethora of creams and powders.  Eventually I felt her turn the chair back towards the mirror. 

“Open. What do you think?” 

My reflection in the mirror was the opposite of the one I had seen this morning. Every bruise, even my black eyes, had vanished under the cover of her makeup. Almost as if nothing had happened. 

“And the outfit you’re wearing will hide everything else. At the rate you’re healing though, I think you’ll be back to normal within a week. Come now, let’s get dressed.” 

She helped me put my arms into the shirt and closed the ribbons down the back, yanking them tight so the back wouldn’t open. The front seamlessly hugged my body and hid everything I had behind a high neckline. The jeans she tugged on fit every curve and sat low on my hips. I stepped into a pair of low, comfortable black ankle boots, red bottoms showing off with every step. She fluffed my hair and around my neck, she hung a small necklace with a single charm V shaped charm dangling from it. Looking in the mirror, I couldn’t tell if I was modestly hiding behind my outfit, or if I was showing off everything by showing off nothing. I felt amazing. 

“Well? Give me your thoughts?” She asked, fluffing my hair again. “Looking good, don’t you think?” 

“It’s perfect.” I turned and hugged her. “Thank you.”

She laughed but hugged me back. “Nothing to it princess. Now go knock 'em dead. Make them wish they had never laid eyes on Reader Morningstar.” 

I heard a knock on the door. Velvette perked up. 

“And right on schedule. I guess a broken clock is right at least twice a day. Come on in, Val, doors unlocked.” 

The door swung open and Valentino walked in, fingers flying as he texted on his phone. He looked up and I gave him my best smile. His eyes went wide and his phone disappeared into his pocket. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me to him, pressing a kiss onto me.  He leaned back after a second and licked his lips. “Mm. Strawberry. Good choice Vel.” 

Velvette rolled her eyes and swung her hips to the side, but her expression gave away how pleased she was. “Whatever. It wasn’t for you.” 

“I think you’re lying, but it doesn't matter. Come on, mi amor. We don’t want to be late. Well, later than we are.” He wrapped his arm around me and we walked towards the door. Right before we walked out, he paused and glanced back at Velvette. “Thanks Vel. You outdid yourself.”

“Don’t I always?” She asked, but her tone was that of a satisfied cat. “Go on. Get out of here. See you tonight. And reader!” 

I turned back as Valentino hustled me down the hallway. “What’s up Vel?”

She grinned. “You look killer, darling. Make them respect you.” 

[din-miller]

Hey did you know the tbb can purr? It’s totally fact and not me wanting to read about it 👀. Anywho, please justice can I have some purring clones? 👉👈

Purring clones now live rent free in my head.

I’m struggling with a case of writers block so this is more in the style of my tbb thoughts. Hope it’s to your liking!

The Purring Hours

Pairing: could be read as romantic for any of the boys you fancy or could be read as gen. Up to you. gender neutral reader

Word count: 525

Warnings: Mention of the Kaminoans 🤢

A/N: I added Rex because he is the purring king 👑

No one told you that clones could purr.

It starts with Crosshair of all people. A teasing scratch against his growing buzz cut has him leaning into your hand, chest rumbling with a soft purr. Then, once realisation set in, Crosshair is across the ship, avoiding your bewildered expression as his own takes on a warning scowl. You don’t mention it, don’t dare say anything but when Wrecker gives a hearty laugh you’re unable to fight back the small tilt of a smile.

Crosshair doesn’t speak to you for a whole week but you do catch him looking at your hands more than once. Again, you don’t dare say anything but the next time you see him needing comfort or a grounding presence, your fingers brush through his small curls without a pause.

It turns out that purring isn’t always a good thing. Sometimes it’s born of pain, of sadness. It’s Echo you learn this from as dull eyes watch an old holo of the 501st. A happier time when war wasn’t so unforgiving.

Echo doesn’t have hair and you're too afraid of causing discomfort because of his cybernetics, so you climb in behind him and tug the clone back until he’s settled against your chest. Eventually, after many stories of the 501st, his purrs become louder, happier. You fall asleep to them with Echo safe in your arms.

Wrecker breaks sound barriers with his purrs, seriously no joke, it’s loud. He never purrs in the Marauder; it’s too small of a space and it hurts Hunter sensitive hearing. On Pabu though, the house Shep set you up in, shook so much with each purr you had to reinforce the whole structure. Wrecker loved it.

Tech never purrs, or at least that’s what you thought before his chest raised and fell with steady vibrations against your palm. It’s a silent purr he admitted, embarrassment colouring his words. You find yourself hugging him more than any of his brothers. Cuddling against him during weekly Batch piles.

Omega’s purring is the softest and most frequent. In fact if one of her brothers don’t hear her purring in a span of three hours they’re checking in on her, making sure everything is okay. Her purring increases tenfold in those moments and it irritates Crosshair. But you know better when it comes to his complaining, because despite Hunter’s enchanted hearing it’s always Crosshair who notices first.

Hunter on the other hand never purrs. Some terrible excuse about him being the leader and he shouldn’t and blah blah it doesn’t matter. It’s a lie and it’s Echo who pushes Hunter to tell you the truth. He can’t purr. The Kaminoans weren’t sure how much the ability to purr would affect his heightened senses. Other clones treated him differently because of it. You wish you could go back in time and knock out the teeth of those assholes. You tell Hunter that you love him all the same.

And don’t get you started on Rex. The man’s a purring machine, twenty-four seven. You had asked if it was a first generation thing, Echo had laughed and said it’s just Rex and his mother-hen nature.

[azul-marie]

leon. (desiderate)

fem. reader. canon-typical violence/injuries mentioned.

if only you’d been beside him a second sooner.

the surrounding ganados were resolute in killing the two of you, but so far you’d handled everything well. he took the front, you, the back. it was going fine enough, up until a creature welding a machete managed to land a clean slice across the side of his abdomen, easily cutting through the flesh. your partner’s pained sounds were a nightmare on the ears.

once that damned church bell finally rang upon safety could you take cover in an abandoned home to check whatever damage was done.

now another challenge began.

“please, just let me see how bad it is.” your pleas are no match for stubbornness. leon waves you off, pretending that he isn’t holding a bleeding wound. his beautiful jacket, a favorite of his, he had told you on the way to the village, stains his hand a bright scarlet. he lingers by a window to keep watch outside, his handsome face scrunched with discomfort.

“it’s fine. i’m fine. focus on yourself first.” his reply is curt, slightly winded. his broad chest heaves as he applies more pressure on his injury, his jaw setting tightly to avoid letting out a moan of pain. you watch helplessly, unused to the view of your calm, confident partner so hurt.

the two of you hadn’t been partners for long, but something akin to a friendship was undoubtedly there. his odd quips, the occasional joke that would usually cause eye rolling and groans were actually rather charming coming from a man of his reputation — you took them in stride, bouncing off of his personality as if you’d known each other all your lives.

but there is a certain coldness to leon. an inner frost, like a perpetual twist of the brows stuck in thought, or eyes heavy with a lack of heart. clear reminders of whatever he’s gone through before meeting you. perhaps it’s the innate good you sense from him that encourages the desire to know him, befriend him. a goodness that is such he’d prefer bleeding out if it meant saving you first.

you gather your courage. with cautious steps you approach his side, place a benign hand on his bicep that silently insists. at first, leon refuses to look your way. he's all too aware of those doe eyes you’re making at him — knows it’ll get him weak in the knees. the touch on his arm is already making it harder to breathe.

“leon…” —god, do you have to say his name so softly like that?— “i’m not hurt. i’m worried about you. just let me take a look so i can help ease the pain. please.”

his eyes flicker down to yours before he can stop himself. fuck. those pretty eyes, brows turned up with concern, flutter when they meet his. leon’s jaw goes slack, and he swallows so hard he’s certain he gulps aloud.

“okay…okay. i surrender.” he says, a hint of humor lacing in. “sorry to have made you beg.”

your unease melts into a beaming smile. “as long as it paid off.”

after finding the most stable looking chair in the house, leon peels off his beloved jacket on the one side he’s hurt, exposing the weeping cut caked with a mix of dried and fresh blood. he at least looks a little sheepish to have insisted he was fine, when he was, in fact, not very fine at all.

you cringe at the sight, deterring any ogling leon would've preferred to see instead. you carefully lift his skin-tight shirt to examine the cut further. the feel of your smooth fingers gliding across his bare skin sends a wave of gooseflesh over every inch of him. he reminds himself he’s a professional, not a schoolboy.

“i’m…i’m sorry, but, ew. aside from that, it’s actually not too deep. a good cleaning should help, since that blade was probably really unsanitary. then i’ll bandage you up. sounds good?”

leon is quiet. concerned, you glance upwards to check on him, only to find he’s already staring at you. something hot clenches at your chest. his eyes fall to your parted lips for a split second before realizing you’ve stopped talking.

“yeah.” he mindlessly agrees. it is incredibly obvious to the both of you that he hasn’t heard a word you said. you kindly choose to ignore it, mostly because it’s cute. and because he’s probably lost a bit of blood while he was being stubborn. not to mention he was nearly sawed in half by a literal creature of darkness, too. something like that would take a moment to process.

“i’ll clean you up, then bandage the cut. sounds good?” you repeat slowly, trying to also kindly ignore how his eyes switch between your eyes and lips. leon nods, then looks away in silent complacency to let you do what you need to. and to steady himself when your hands run down the expanse of his abdomen to check for any other injuries he may have sustained.

he wonders how you’ve managed to keep such soft, supple hands. how they press just the right amount of pressure, not too much or too little. the first aid spray, nor the herbs you mix and crush into a salve hardly sting when you massage them across his wound. all the while your eyes, those pretty eyes, gleam with pure concentration as you work to heal him. help him. without ulterior motives, without asking for anything in return.

guilt overtakes him. to have you mend him despite his being perfectly capable feels selfish. reminds him of naivety and red. longings of the past. you two were already in over your heads, and now this? having you coddle him? leon’s hardly deserving. hardly worth your effort. he wasn’t the priority at this point, even if he made the promise to get all three of you back home safe. there were risks, dangers, that either of you could succumb to, but he’d be damned before letting anything happen to you. as long as you stuck together, nothing would.

“you with me, ace?”

your whisper jolts him out of thought. leon appears struck, as if forgetting you’re sat beside him, pressing bandages along his abdomen. your perplexed expression wakes him from his inner rumination. makes him think his own face is twisted in the way it gets whenever he’s too far deep in his mind.

leon takes a beat to answer. “uh…yeah. all good. sorry about that.”

“no need to apologize. i know it’s a lot to take in. i’m just worried about that handsome face of yours.”

he freezes, his dark thoughts at once evaporating. “my—what?”

you turn slightly bashful. “oh, well, you know. if you keep making the same kind of face, it’ll get stuck that way. i just…well, it would be a shame if yours did. you’re really quite nice on the eyes, leon.”

he gapes at you, stunned silent by your boldness. and what more it could imply. these sorts of compliments are nothing he’s not used to, clearly, but coming from you? the first person to mean something to him in years?

leon feels his face going hot. shit. he clears his throat, shifts in his creaking seat. prays he isn’t blushing as badly as he thinks he is. you manage to catch his fleeting eyes for a second. he watches how your lush lips turn up with an amused smile so poorly hidden he almost thinks you wanted him to notice — and just like that, he’s properly flustered.

he isn’t allowed to collect himself. soon you’re patting off whatever excess salve remains on his skin and tugging his shirt back down over freshly set bandages, held together by even more prayers and a bit of medical tape. you’re up and on your feet before leon can even pierce together the concept of thanking you.

you head to the nearest window for a quick peek outside. “looks like the villagers are still in the church. it’s all clear for now, unless they decide to cut service short.” you muse. leon joins you, carefully readjusting his jacket and his cool.

“don’t jinx us.” he huffs. “last thing we need is another run in with trouble. we should start looking for ashley now that things are quiet.”

you agree. after one last weapons and supplies check, you lead the way towards the front door to brave whatever awaits the two of you ahead. before you finish twisting the doorknob, he pats an awkward hand on your shoulder.

leon says your name intently. “…i appreciate your help. very much.” he hesitates, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. you can still see a bloom of pink across his cheeks. “so…thanks. i owe you one.”

you pat his shoulder in return with a mellow smile. “of course, leon. it’s why i’m here. i am your favorite partner after all.” you joke, turning the moment he lets out a chuckle. you miss the way his eyes soften as he takes in the pretty view of you.

“true. but it’s not like you had much competition in the first place.”

“ha-ha. if you’re saying i win by default, then that’s just fine by—”

the moment the two of you step outside, an incoming call from hunnigan interrupts the lighthearted atmosphere. the sudden intrusion turns leon’s face somber once more, though he glances somewhat apologetically at you before answering.

no matter, you think. there’s plenty of time to spare for team-bonding.

[anangelwhodidntfall]

A New Star: Jake Sully

Avatar Masterlist 

word count: 1.2K

Request:  Hi! Can you please do a Jake x Pregnant! (Na’vi) Reader when Y/n goes into labor and has to have a C-section but because she is Na’vi she doesn’t know what that is and she starts to freak out and Jake tries to calm her and explain what a C-section is? I can send the request as a message if you want.

Background Info: 

C-section: It's when they give birth and they cut the lower stomach to get the baby out

Why c-sections happen: It's usually done for the safety of both mother and baby or if the baby is too big

The past eight months have been nothing short of amazing since you and Jake found out that you were expecting your first child together. You were so nervous to tell Jake at first worried about his reaction but instead, he was over the moon with joy that you were pregnant, that was the one thing he had wanted since you guys mated was to have a child or children born from the love you two shared. Jake was so wonderful during pregnancy, he constantly waited on your hand and foot and nothing was too much for him even if it was late-night cravings or holding your belly for a bit just to relieve you for a bit. There was no one else you rather have by your side during this.

"How are you two feeling my love?" Jake asked walking in and sitting behind you softly rubbing your back.

"Alright, I'm ready for them to come out." You said with a small laugh.

"Just a few more weeks my love. They will be here before you know it, is there anything else I can do to help you?" He asked you hating to see you in so much discomfort.

"Hmmm, a kiss or two since you didn't give me any when you came home today." You said with a pout as he laughed softly turning your head toward him and prepping your face with all kinds of kisses making you giggle.

"I love you sweet girl, and I love you, my child." He said kissing you and then kissing your bump making you smile.

"I love you too ma Jake." You said rubbing your nose against his.

A few weeks later you and Neytiri were talking when you felt pain in your stomach almost like a cramp, not really thinking anything of it because those have been happening a lot during your pregnancy, you went about your day well and tried to at least until they were almost a minute a part which made Neytiri help you up and try to get to her mother's.

"No Tiri, Jake he isn't......here..." You said as another contraction hit you.

"I will send someone to go get him...don't worry but we need to get you to my mother's." She said as you nodded your head.

Meanwhile Jake and Tsu'tey were coming back from their hunt from this morning when Neytiri came over to comms..

"Jake, do you copy?" She asked as screaming could be heard in the background.

"I copy, what is it Neytiri?" He asked worriedly.

"It's y/n, she getting ready to give birth....Tiri tell him to hurry his ass up, he promised he be here." He could hear you say.

"Go to her, I can handle everything from here." Tsu'tey said as Jake thanked him and ran towards the Hometree.

When he got to Mo'at's tent he saw Norm and Max there off to the side ready in case something happened while Mo'at worked and Neytiri held your hand trying to comfort you. Jake made his way to your side gently taking a seat next to you.

"Oh my sweet girl, I'm so sorry I wasn't here but look you are doing so good." He said pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Ma Jake, you made it." You said looking at him with a tired smile on your face.

"Hey y/n, we're just gonna do another quick scan to make sure everything is okay before we start, okay?" Norm asked as you nodded your head.

Jake watched as they placed the gel on your stomach before doing the scan but the look on their faces told him everything he needed to know.

"The baby is upside down meaning that during a normal pregnancy, the fetus during birth is head-down, facing the mother's back but your's feet first...so we are gonna have to a c-section in order to deliver them safely." Max explained as panic rose through you.

"C-section? What is that?" You asked anxiously.

"They're gonna probably put you under and cut you right about here so they can safely deliver the baby..." Jake explained looking to Norm for backup.

"Yeah it will only be an hour y/n, you won't feel anything." Norm said trying to comfot you as you shook your head no.

"Mo'at?" You asked her nervously.

"This is the way my child, everything will be fine I promise." She said to you not really helping calm you down as Jake could still feel you shaking.

"Baby look at me, hey look at me... I'm not gonna let anything happen to you or our baby okay? Max and Norm know what they are doing, and I'm gonna be right here the entire time, so I just want you to relax and let them handle it from here, you've done wonderful caring for them the last nine months, now it's time to meet them." He said as you nodded your head.

"It's gonna be okay, when you wake up, our child will be here. I love you, my sweet girl." He said pressing a kiss to your lips.

"I love you too Ma Jake." You said to him giving him a small smile.

You let everyone know that you were ready to proceed with the C-section, Norm came over and put a breathing mask over your face, and hooked some wires up to you so they could monitor your stats during the operation.

The operation took about an hour to complete once they started, and soon enough a beautiful baby boy was pulled out and shown off and Jake swore his heart stopped from seeing his son...a life he helped create. He watched as Mo'at cleaned the baby and looked over it with a smile on her face, before handing it to Max.

"Dad, would you like to hold him, while we sew mom up?" Max asked walking over to Jake.

Jake gently took his son in his arms, smiling down at him as his son wrapped his hand around his finger. Jake could already tell that ya'lls son was going to look like you when he got older, he could see your features in his.

"Ma Jake....?" You asked tiredly.

"Hi sweet girl, how are you feeling?" He asked turning towards you.

"Tired...how did it go? Where's the baby?" You asked making him smile as Norm came to help you sit up so you didn't tear your stitches.

"Our baby is a he who looks exactly like you....and he is right here." Jake said placing him in your arms watching as a smile spread across your face.

"Your so perfect.." You said quietly to yourself as Jake put his arm around you.

"What are you gonna name him?" Neytiri asked.

"'Äokx Te Pxun'll Lätstxut'itan." You said with a smile on your face as Jake pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I'm so proud of you." He said to you.

"Thank you, but I couldn't have done without you." You said pressing a kiss to his lips.

[dark-corner-cunning]

Poppet Retribution Magick: Unleashing A Bellyful of Misfortune To Bring Financial Ruin

Update 5/7/24: My friend contacted me last night to let me know that Father has reached out and told them they could feel their pain and it has been weighing on him. 😁 He also wants to reconcile! This is exciting news for them and a new opportunity for them to build a relationship and heal together. Once I get the "Ok" from my friend I will release Father from his poppet.

Reader’s Notes: This working was originally constructed for a friend who wanted retribution against their father who abandoned and neglected them during childhood. They opted to hit their father where it would hurt him the most... his pockets... by any means necessary! We decided to go with a less intense sickness working and a working that reflected the weight of my friend's pain and sadness they have carried over the years. Also, if baneful, retribution or justice magick isn’t your jam…just quietly scroll on!! As always, feel free to take what resonates and leave the rest!

I did this working in alignment with the Solar Eclipse for more energy.

Please use safety as always with any working. This working uses fire, a sharp knife, and spicy pepper flakes.

Lastly, I am a "Words" witch... I love words of power (Mercury in my 10th house). You can always opt for no-words or you can record the sayings beforehand and play them on repeat at that step that requires that saying so that you can focus on the actions and energy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

When a father walks out on his family, it can feel like the ultimate betrayal. The pain and trauma caused by his abandonment can have lasting effects on everyone involved. But for those who believe in the powers of witchcraft, there may be a way to not only cope with the misfortune of a father's abandonment but also to seek justice for his greed and neglect. This is where witchcraft comes in.

Ingredients:

Mix all the ingredients from the 1st group in a bowl (except the roaches, snakeskin, and thorns) before stuffing. Be aware that the pepper flakes can and will burn your eyes, possibly your skin, and make your nose run.

Thorns – cursing & hexing, pain, discomfort

Stones – pain & discomfort.. I went with 9

Spiderwebs – ensnaring, halting, binding

Ash – suffocation

Wormwood – strife & misfortune

Stagnant Water – rut, stagnate, failed plans

Snakeskin – inhibits growth

Helter Skelter/Cursing Oil – destruction

Dead/Rotting Roaches – causes hardship, strife, infestation of sickness

Poppy Seed – confusion

Mustard Seed -disruption, prevent help

Hot Pepper/Red Pepper Flakes – accelerates, burns

Boneset – cursing

Apple of Peru/Shoo-Fly Plant – Reversing Wealth & Money

1 Poppet - I sewed a picture of "Father's" face to it... thanks FB! When making your poppet, make sure you place a piece of paper with the target's name and DOB inside beforehand.

1 Red Candle

1 Craft knife

1 Needle with Red String

Poppet Stuffing - In folk magick stuffing was quite literally anything that could be used. I choose polyfill... however, feel free to use whatever you like.

Black Cord or String - Binding

Optional: 1 Plant or Something "Alive" to Tether To

Optional: Pictures, Taglocks, Sigils, Petitions - You need at least a full name and date of birth.

Optional: Orange Candles and Road-Opener Oil - To be done beforehand to remove any protections and help with the working hitting harder.

Steps:

Activate the Poppet: “Poppet, I name you _. Your limbs are their limbs. Your flesh is their flesh. Your life is their life. As you suffer, so shall they suffer.”

Then thinking about the life force within... take a deep breath and blow life into the poppet. Think breathing for CPR.

The next step I did was a road opener & path-clearing. I used 5 candles to represent the elements, roads, and planes. Each candle had "Father's" name written on it and then anointed with a road opener oil. You can use whatever method of road opener you want here.

Once the road opener finished I then tethered the poppet to a plant. I did this by tying a vine from the plant to the poppet's arm and energetically tethered them together. Just remember to choose a plant or something that is easily taken care of after.

Tethered to this plant, my work shall be

Bound by nature's energy, I decree

All blow back shall fall upon the tether

For this spell, my power shall weather

With hands held high, I cast my charm

As the plant's roots dig deep, my magic is armed

From earth to sky, the tether extends

My working and this plant, now forever blend

The energy flows, from me to thee

As this plant, my spell's vessel be

Each leaf, each stem, a conduit of power

Growing stronger with each passing hour

No force of nature can break this bond

For my magic and this plant, forever correspond

Together they thrive, in harmony

Tethered as one, for all eternity

So let the winds howl and the storms rage

My spell shall stand strong, in this earthly cage

For all the energy of this spell

Is now tethered to this plant, with magic compel

So mote it be, this working is done

Tethered to this plant, this working is one

Then taking the craft knife cut the poppet's belly open. You will have to more than likely remove some stuffing to make some room for your stuffing. Stuff the poppet with your bowl mixture, stones, dead roaches, snakeskin, thorns, sigils, and what-not.

Swallow your greed with a belly full of stones

For it will bring you nothing but a life full of moans

Chasing after wealth, blind to the harm

Leaves you with a bitter taste, like a snake's charm

Choke on the lies you told yourself

That money and power were the only true wealth

But as you suffocate, reality sets in

Your failure and greed, now it's time to begin

Financial ruin, your once thriving business now failed

Your ego and pride, too great to be bailed

You mistreated your (daughter/son/Pronoun), a soul so pure

Abandoning & neglecting (pronoun), now it's your time to endure

So, Swallow your greed, let it be consumed With each stone, let your finances be doomed.

Then take the needle and thread and sew the belly closed. Once finished, take a red candle and seal the stitches.

Then take your black cord and bind the poppet. I chose to bind "Father" in a pentagram/elemental binding. The binding is started by being tied off at the neck, then the cord is wrapped around the left leg, then the right arm, then the left arm, then the right leg, and then back up to the neck. You can wrap this as many times as you like and you can certainly just bind your poppet however you like.

In the midst of chaos, in the midst of strife,

There lies a number, 5, that brings unexpected life.

It holds the power to shake things up, to make you lose control,

And in its grip, you are left to pay the ultimate toll.

Earth, air, fire, water, and the spirit within,

These 5 elements, a force to reckon and herein.

They bind you to this spell, a spell you cannot break,

And with each passing moment, your foundations start to shake.

The earth beneath your feet, solid and strong,

Yet when it quakes, you realize you were wrong.

The air you breathe, so vital to your existence,

But in a chaotic storm, it shows its true persistence.

Fire, the element of passion and desire,

But when it rages, it leaves you in dire.

Water, so calm and serene in its flow,

But in a flood, it can cause you to let go.

The spirit, the 5th element, unseen yet ever-present,

It binds you to this spell, a force so incessant.

It connects you all in ways you cannot comprehend,

And in its grasp, you are unable to defend.

And as these 5 elements collide and intertwine,

Your finances, too, fall victim to this bind.

For in the midst of chaos, your finances are unable to thrive,

And as your finances crumble, you are left with nothing to revive.

So by the power of 5, you descend,

For it holds a chaotic force that has no end.

And by the elements I bind you to this spell,

Remember, it is not a fight you can ever win or quell.

Once bound, then I untethered the plant and placed "Father" in a bucket of stagnant stormwater to drown in (this is symbolic of all the tears my friend has cried over the years) at the height of totality during the eclipse. I placed a cover over "Father" and there he will stay until the night of the full moon. Then I will take him out and bury him deep in the woods off my property to slowly rot.

[sehtoast]

A Shoulder to Lean On (Homelander x OC)

1k | Homelander speaks to Ben about Stillwell after her demise | Fic Directory

“How long had you two been..?”  Ben trailed off.  Didn’t quite know what to call their situation.  “Uhm… Close?”

It’d been roughly a week and a half since Homelander came to him searching for the one place he knew he could crumble and be held together.  He’d killed her, of course.  That much was clear even before he admitted it outright.

This territory was fairly new between them but Ben had a feeling no one had ever let Homelander have this before. This release, this safety, this understanding that he could offload some of his troubles and not be judged as weak.

He was understandably atrocious at actually doing it.  Chuckling through stories, looking away when he got choked up.

It didn’t matter, though.  At least he was trying.

And Ben?

Well, Benjamin was there to listen.  To be the shoulder to cry on that Homelander’s never quite had in his life.

“I–” He tried, shaking his head.  “A while, I guess.  I dunno…”

The web-head rubbed soothing circles against Homelander’s back.  He’d convinced him to shed the cape and gloves, to drop at least a piece of the facade, small as it may have been.

“You can be more than just Homelander here,” Ben had told him.  “It’s okay to be John, too.”

In the background, the TV played on low volume.  Flashes of action scenes from a Vought special illuminated the darkness of the living room.  They tended to air a lot, but they made for good background noise.

“She never– It’s… It was something.”

It’s always something, isn’t it?

Ben’s hand crept up to thumb at the nape of Homelander’s neck.  He always did seem to react pleasantly to soothing touch.  Like it dulled the edge of his misery.  His anger.

His pain.

For a time, they sat in silence– save for the movie.  Ben continued his gentle touches, still mystified at his lack of discomfort when it came to touching Homelander.  He never was particularly tactile, but…

Well, here he is getting The Homelander himself to open up.  Seems they both had a special way with one another.

“I really wanted her to love me…”  Homelander rasped suddenly, voice tight in his throat.

Ben’s eyes widened, but he made no move to speak when he heard that first sniffle.  Not when he saw Homelander wipe aggressively at his eyes.

“I really wanted to fucking mean something to her!”  He sniveled. “Fucking a-anything!  I tried so fucking hard to be enough!”

The bug shifted slightly closer to Homelander, wrapping his arm across his shoulders.  He didn’t know what else to do, really.  Homelander leaned into his embrace, though, so it must have been the right choice.

“She–”  He shuddered, nuzzling against Ben to hide how much of a mess he was becoming.  “I’ve never–” But he couldn’t tell Benjamin the truth.  Couldn’t tell the wall crawler about the way he grew up, couldn’t bear rehashing all of that on top of this… 

If only he had any idea how much Benjamin truly knew…

“Shh, Johnny,” Ben cooed, using that nickname that always seemed to soften the edges.  “I know.”

He’d deduced a lot from when Homelander would talk about her.  The way she dangled her love like a carrot on a stick since the day she first met him.  Always leading him along, tempting him with just enough to keep him malleable, just enough promises kept to keep him well behaved, just enough to build a career off of the hold she established on him.  Ben gathered that it all only came to a head once her hold on him began to waver and she tore down the last walls, baiting him with physical intimacy far more than ever before.

Giving him hope.

Who knows?  If she hadn’t lied to Homelander about his child, Madelyn Stillwell might have survived another day.  But she did, so she didn’t.

Homelander looked at the TV from under wet lashes, content to let Benjamin continue resting his chin atop his head, stroking soothingly up and down his back. On the screen was the hero getting the girl.  Getting his happily ever after, his perfect world, saving the day and being loved by everyone.

How he wished that were him…

“... m’afraid to be alone.” 

Ben didn’t speak.  He knew sometimes that was best, especially given the weight of such a statement.  He leaned back against the couch, gently bringing Homelander with him, petting through his hair.  The angle was a little awkward, but Homelander seemed not to care.

“M’scared no one… that no one’s ever gonna love me the way I love them.”

What an all too understandable plight.  Benjamin hugged him closer, pressing a kiss to the top of his hair.

After some time, he decided to speak up.

“I’m proud of you, y’know?”  Ben murmured.  Obviously not for having killed her, but… “That was a lot just then, wasn’t it?”

He meant that confession, of course.

Homelander simply nodded against him.  It was humiliating.  Purely fucking humiliating to have finally said it out loud.

But somehow it was okay.

“And you’re not alone,” Ben continued.  “You’re kind of stuck with me.”

Benjamin made it okay.

“And I love you,” Ben declared softly.  

Though, at the time, the statement was contextually between friends, Homelander heard it differently.

Felt it resonate in his chest, reverberate into his limbs, dance in his mind.

Benjamin loved him.

His little spider loved him.

“Thank you…”

[peaches2217]

Hii!

Do you have any headcanons on when Peach, (or any of the other [human] mario girls) got their.....you know....when they entered into womanhood?

If this makes you uncomfortable, i'm so sorry!!

I just remember my first time, I thought I was dying and I cried. I wouldn't come out of my room, but my mom bought me starbucks and mcdonalds and told me everything was gonna be okay, LOL!!

Not uncomfortable at all, no worries! In fact, I’ve got some Peach-centric headcanons of the sort, so I’m very happy you asked~

I’ll preface this with a note, though: menstration isn’t exclusive to women, nor is it a mark of womanhood! There’s plenty of men and gender-nonconforming people who get periods. There’s plenty of women who don’t. Some get them before fully hitting puberty and some get them many years after undergoing puberty. It’s less “entering into womanhood” and more “a common side-effect of having a uterus,” so remember to keep that in mind! And know, both you and anyone else reading this, that this is a topic I’m perfectly comfortable touching on here, so never feel awkward about bringing it up with me.

Now! Onto the headcanons!

Peach had some idea at least about what to expect; since her parents died when she was young; she had to learn about her body through books and what little Toadsworth knew. She knew that she’d probably start bleeding at some point, so she wasn’t surprised or horrified when it happened.

What she didn’t account for was how much it would hurt.

She read that she might expect some discomfort, especially the first few times, and Toadsworth confirmed that her mother would feel a bit nauseous and cranky whenever she got hers. Peach got way more than that. The cramping was both constant and severe, to the point that she couldn’t physically get out of bed for most days of her cycle, and she bled so heavily that, when she could get out of bed, she had to brace herself against furniture just to get anywhere because she was so dizzy. And Toadsworth wasn’t around when her mother was a teenager; he didn’t know if this was normal any more than Peach did.

What he did know was that his little girl was suffering, and whether it was “normal” or not, he wouldn’t stand for it. So he brought in a very celebrated, very expensive human doctor from the Metro Kingdom to offer guidance and advice.

Peach was put on oral contraceptives to alleviate her symptoms, and she, Toadsworth, and the nurses and medics of the palace were all given thorough lessons about the internal workings of the human body and how the contraceptives would help. The first time she got her period and was still able to go about her daily duties, Peach actually cried.

In the present, she’s still afflicted with painful periods every so often, but they’re much more manageable than they were before the medication. It helps that she eventually marries a man with the power to summon fire and heat with his bare hands — and he’s more than happy to be a sentient heating pad whenever she needs it!

[noirs-pages]

Abel 1

Summary: Abel stretched himself thin and now he has to rest in your care. To this day, you still call him by his code name, Crusnik.

(As you can see, I’m a bit of a fan of the older anime and series I can get my hands on. Trinity Blood is an old favorite, specifically the manga version. I love Abel’s hair. I really so do like the men with long hair.)

“How cruel, you just let me fall…” He groaned on the floor, clutching the legs of a nearby nightstand to try and fail to get up. Little tears dot the edges of his eyes and all you can think is how pathetically adorable he is, even if this was all an act to bury his discomfort from your eyes.

Really, he can never be truly vulnerable with anyone, so for him to even struggle with walking, with someone to witness him as he flounders about, he has to place some humor in.

“You don’t learn lessons when they’re told to you,” you stated as you sipped your drink, “It’s not my fault you didn’t believe me when I said you’re not in any state of walking. Besides, I just like seeing you sprawled on the floor like that. It’s entertaining.”

Of course, you didn’t leave him there for long. After one or two attempts at trying to stand on his feet, you reached down and lugged the man back onto the bed that you really should replace. You’ve had it for too many years. You can tell too when Crusnik you saw his face pinch into a held back wince.

“I suppose you do like to see me in a fair bit of pain.” Oh, look at that, he can let go of his silly old man-ish tendencies. Though that smile of his was less subdued, as though joking with himself, it had a serenity to it that reminded you of the moons in the sky. It wasn’t a permanent sight though. He caught himself with a nervous waving of his hands. “Oh! Not that I’m suggesting that you’re a torturer or the like! Sorry, sorry.”

“No need to sugarcoat the truth at my expense, Crusnik,” you pulled the blankets up to his shoulders, just to be nice. He grabbed them, like a kid being put to bed though wanted more than anything to jump out. “I can’t deny any of it.”

“…Crusnik, huh?” Crusnik mumbled out, tasting his own code name. He looked a bit dour. “My name isn’t something forbidden. You can call me Abel. Or Father. Or Father Nightroad. I won’t be mad.”

You could. You could most certainly scream his name to the sea if you wanted to, in joy or in anger. It’s not as though you’ll receive some divine punishment if you do. And, the both of you are friends to one another, or a least amiable enough to warrant such a status.

“I’m aware, Crusnik. No need to worry your head over it.” You leaned over and lifted Abel’s head just to sweep his hair back from the jumbled mess it was.

However, you know him. Perhaps it’s because you’re eyes are too sharp or you’ve spent too many years around seedy terrans and methuselah alike to know when people are not truly open with you. Crusnik’s a good man. A funny man. An entertaining one certainly. But you know an act when you see it. He’s let himself slip one too many times for you to believe it didn’t exist.

Abel Nightroad is a good man, and will tell everyone who asks how dear of a friend you are to him. And yet, this very status is what makes him tighten up that mask of his. He really, truly doesn’t want you to poke into him too deeply, to see what makes Abel Nightroad the man that he is.

So, to you, he is just Crusnik, not Abel. How right he is, to call you cruel.

[the-californicationist]

Goldfish (SanSan AU) - 4/8

Warnings: descriptions of abuse, canon-mentioned abuse and domestic violence, mention of ramsay bolton, modern au, oral and vaginal sex

Sandor flipped on the small lamp on his dining table and moved into the kitchen, digging in the cupboard to find glasses. He set his eyes on a dusty scotch bottle he’d been hiding from himself for a while now. He’d kept telling himself he’d save it for a really great night. Tonight was as good as it was going to get. 

“Love your place. It’s quiet here,” she complimented him, dragging out a chair and sitting down at his table. 

He grunted in acknowledgment, letting her praise slide by him. It was a foreign feeling. 

“Here, little bird. I think you’ll like this better than that Wildling swill, hm?” Sandor poured her a generous two fingers of amber liquor, hoping she’d be impressed by the warm vanilla notes and comforting peaty smoke. 

She put her lips to the rim and groaned with pleasure. He almost dropped his cup at her delicious noise, recovering quickly but feeling his cock swell. Down boy, bad dog.  

“This is like heaven, isn’t it?” She whispered with disbelief. 

He basked in her praise again, more brazen this time,

“At least I could keep that promise, hm?”

He saw that she knew what he truly meant. It was self-deprecating. After she had been targeted by Joffrey and his demonic brutality, the Hound had offered to take her home, knowing it would cost him his job. She’d refused. Then, he’d left anyway, abandoning her there after he’d promised her she’d be safe with him. She wasn’t. And he didn’t keep his word. After all of their reunions over the years, it was the one secret between them that didn't need any commentary. A shared skeleton in their shared closet.

She fixed her glare at him, setting the glass down decisively. Then, instead of chastising him, she leaned forward and told him something else,

“You know, when you left, I always thought I’d made a mistake. I kept kicking myself, knowing that I should have come with you. But, after that awful accident in the Lannister’s lake house. The fire, you remember? Joff told me about you. About what happened. After that, I never blamed you for a moment. I would have left, too.”

The Hound swallowed the bile that had risen up in his throat,

“He told you?”

She nodded, taking a long sip and pulling her hair over to one side, fidgeting. Sansa wasn’t done with him though. She looked into her glass like it was a crystal ball, reading her past aloud to him,

“Joff would always threaten me with you while he beat me. He thought he could use you to scare me. ‘If the Hound were here…’ blah blah blah,” she laughed softly, “but I don’t think he realized that those words got me through it. I imagined that you were there. I fantasized about what it would look like when you came up behind him and stuck your knife in his neck.”

Sandor was shocked at her admission. It was so wrathful, but she had said it without any sliver of pain or discomfort. He frowned,

“I wish I had been there. I would have done exactly that. That fucking prick should have died many years ago.”

Sansa shrugged,

“He was nothing compared to Ramsay.”

The room’s silence became oppressive. They could hear the buzz of the bulb in the table lamp, the thrum of their hearts in their chests. His sank. He whispered to her,

“Little bird, I -”

She waved her hand again, dismissing his pity like a bothersome fly over her meal. She finished her scotch and looked deep into his eyes,

“He…I didn’t…I was just…” she tried to start her sentence and failed. 

Sandor wasn’t sure if it was the whisky or the last remaining ounce of courage he had buried in himself, but he reached over the table and took her hand in his. Her fingers were cold and trembling. Her skin was soft like a rabbit. Her bones were fragile beneath his grip. 

Her face turned hateful as she held his hand, gently squeezing him back. The wolf creature that lay coiled inside Sansa’s deceptively delicate body awoke to tell him about its recent vengeance. It spoke through her,

“I didn’t tell anyone this, but I guess it doesn't matter who I tell now," she took a long pause before continuing, "I watched him die. I told everyone I ran back up to the house, but I didn’t. I watched the hounds tear him apart. They shook him, hard. Once they found a place to bite, they would just shake and shake until that skin or that bone, whatever they had grabbed, broke off. Ripped off. They’d find another place to bite down into, and they’d shake again. It became almost funny to watch. He looked like he was doing some stupid kind of dance. Screaming. He was so pitiful, and his voice was so high pitched. He didn't even sound like himself. By the time I turned to run into the house, he was scattered all over the kennel in pieces. I should have been horrified by it,” she looked up at Sandor then, her eyes still snarling, full of ire, “but I laughed. The entire time. It was...fun. I had fun.”

She stopped for a moment and put both of her hands into his grip, holding him closer to her, smiling,

“You tried to scare me once. You told me that there was nothing sweeter than killing. I honestly thought you were crazy, then. Who would say that? But, you never lied to me. You were right, Sandor.”

A normal man would have mourned the loss of her innocence. It would have been normal to be worried and to pity her. To be disgusted by her cruelty. She was supposed to be a delicate rose - perfect and untouched, completely thornless. But, Sandor hated that. He had always wanted her to find her fangs. He hoped she wouldn't have to use them, but here she was, snarling with them. And she had used him for her strength! His chest swelled with pride and possessive desire. He'd been her mental anchor in all of her dark days? Unthinkable.

It was like he was seeing her for the first time all over again. No longer was he looking at a scared, helpless child. He had come face to face with the most violent, brutish murderers in the nasty little hell the Lannisters had created for him, but he had never felt the cold flood of fear like he did now. Her viciousness was intoxicating. Sansa Stark was more wolf than woman, and he wanted to taste her power.

He came undone. Breaking glass, scraping tile, and creaking wood filled the silent room in an abrupt calamity as he yanked her halfway across the table. He slammed his mouth to hers in a ferocious kiss, and she clawed down his neck, pulling him further over the tabletop. She tasted like the scotch, and she smelled like the smoke of the bar, and Sandor Clegane fell into her like Alice into her rabbit hole: violently and with no way to return. 

[stevensaus]

How My Colonoscopy Led To An Existential Crisis

So I had a colonoscopy with anesthesia yesterday, and my restless legs managed to generate a bit of an existential crisis. I've spoken before about my experience with restless legs syndrome -- and how I am one of the "lucky" 10% who get to experience it as pain. That was a concern of mine when I was checking in for the colonoscopy; because the medications I take for it effect the nervous system, I did not want to accidentally depress {1} prior to any kind of anesthesia. In addition, a front had moved in overnight, so I was pretty twitchy and in a non-trivial amount of discomfort; it had gotten up to a six or so on the drive over. The anesthesiologist was very nice as I explained my concern, and said it shouldn't be an issue. As they put the anesthetic in the IV, I explained to the anesthesiologist that I was asking so many questions in order to get the details right if I wrote about it later, and then I woke up in recovery. That part went really well (and my results seem good as well). But it was less simple for those doing the procedure. They told me afterward that almost immediately after I went under, I began jerking and moving my legs and arms {2}. They were able to complete the procedure, but just barely, given how much I was moving. While completely unconscious. This is not the first time that my brain and body have done things without my conscious knowledge. Last weekend, when my amour and I were watching TV at night -- I was extremely tired and also in a large amount of pain -- I woke up standing in front of the refrigerator with my amour asking if I was okay, and what I was doing. Earlier this year, I had an extremely bad incident where I woke up upstairs in my son's room (he wasn't home at the time) and had eaten some very expired candy he had up there {3}. It usually only happens when I'm so tired (or medicated) that I cannot help but fall asleep, but the pain is great enough that it keeps me from... well, completely falling asleep. It is -- to put it mildly -- fucking strange to wake up somewhere different when you don't remember falling asleep. We all experience times of decreased consciousness -- the times you drive on "automatic" and don't remember driving home arguably count -- but it is usually bracketed by a conscious intent to go somewhere or do something, and then its completion. {4} One common assumption is not that we're truly not conscious, but that we just don't bother remembering it. To have a sudden scene change like I've had is wildly disorienting. Until yesterday, I could tell myself that I wasn't unconscious -- I just didn't remember. Yesterday, I learned that is not true. Parts of my brain -- and my body -- were reacting to stimuli while I was completely unconscious {5} under anesthetic, lending credence to the idea that my other wanderings and other behaviors were also while my consciousness was offline. Making the idea that things like "driving on automatic" really are entirely without the benefit of our consciousness getting involved all the more plausible. There are studies that indicate our consciousness -- at least sometimes -- gets informed of what we decide to do after we start to do it {6}, but actually experiencing it is something else. Your consciousness -- the you part of you -- isn't the only entity driving that meat mech you're in. {1} The clinical sense of decreased function, not the emotion of "depressed." {2} Thanks to "augmentation," I now experience it in not just my ankles, but sometimes in my wrists as well. {3} I seem to seek out sugar and sweets -- to the extent that I can sometimes tell if the pain is going to be bad because I notice myself craving sweets up to a half hour before I register the pain. The best I can figure is that sweets are a mild analgesic for humans, and it's also a quick dopamine hit, and dopamine seems to be involved in RLS. {4} Oddly, even when I was drinking -- and at times I drank a lot -- I didn't have blackout experiences, so I can't compare the two. {5} While ketamine and versed cause sedation and "anterograde amnesia," not unconsciousness, the propofol they used does create unconsciousness. {6} Along with rebuttals that move the goalposts of where "conscious" is. Featured Image by aytuguluturk from Pixabay Read the full article

[prettytailoredsunflower]

Rudolph, Misfit Island, Gifted Child Burnout, & Mastering the Art of Perseverance

Petal 34

Isn’t it funny how being a nerd is actually an upgrade in life nowadays? It used to be so uncool to be into books or coding or anything remotely non mainstream. Now it’s mainstream to be weird and quirky and people regretfully, act odd on purpose. You can always kind of tell when it is not genuine and forced. The pandemic that we are still in oddly enough, has made us all over thinkers in some way. I think it’s strange how I have regressed. Personally, having a BFA in Theatre you are taught to just do and not think. Acting after all is an action word. Now with time to ruminate in the house (2020) or out of the house nowadays, where masks are optional but strongly encouraged in busier settings; we still let our thoughts roam.

I think that with the Holidays approaching, mental health check ins are even more necessary. There are so many negative spaces online and in the real world where everyone is anti-social especially on social media. I think that with free time comes idle minds which is the devils playgrounds. I’m not saying you shouldn’t let yourself get bored it’s just that it can grow to be unhealthy. When you check in on loved ones it’s not just about texts, FaceTimes, or phone calls it’s about showing up and not taking “No” for an answer. I’ve been told I’m the “strong friend” and that isn’t necessarily a badge of honor because the standard of excellence and perseverance can be overwhelming. It’s like mastering the art of the perseverance, maybe it’s like a mask you wear to stay sane. Just got to keep pushing, keep growing, keep building. Sometimes you need a break. You have to account for rest.

As a formerly gifted child, I had burnout, real and intense burnout. It made me feel as like if I’m not constantly doing something then what is my purpose? You also feel a little delusional pushing down any pain or disappointments to avoid discomfort and be spitefully optimistic. It’s ok to sit with your feelings, you just can’t live there. These are lessons that I have to constantly learn. The prerequisites, the main courses, and the advanced ones. It’s like Rudolph on misfit island. He had to get lost to find himself and sit with his existential crisis a little longer. Sometimes sitting with the fact that “Wow, that’s a good question” is enough. Maybe the answer won’t come to you expeditiously but that is ok too. See you in the new year. Don’t be anxious. Who knows what 2023 will bring? At least we made it.

[kaijime]

watch your mouth

includes. osamu miya x f!reader

cw. corruption kink, virgin reader/first time, osamu wants to breed u <33, dubcon, kitchen sex? [it’s in his shop so?], fingering, pierced dick [prince albert piercing], vaginal penetration, size kink, praise kink, tummy bulge, breeding kink, slight dumbification, creampie, thigh slapping?

wc. 3k

a/n. my piece for @seita’s corrupt-a-virgin collab, thank you for letting me join!!

osamu miya likes to think he follows a strict routine. he wakes up early, shows up for his job, works, and goes home, waiting for tomorrow to arrive and the cycle to repeat itself.

but ever since you've entered his restaurant, you've become a part of his routine.

he sits behind the kitchen counter, watching in admiration how you tend to the customers. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't staring at your ass, but it’s not a lie if he doesn't say it right?

"samu?" there's that nickname again, the one you deemed him ever since that interview for the part time job. "this customer says you forgot to give her a part of her order"

"no i didn't"

"yeah, look" you approach him with the receipt in hand, pointing to a small part of the inked writing. "see?"

he can't see. or at least he can't see the receipt. he's too focused on you, pressing up against him. he knows you're not at fault, but you couldn't be that innocent.

you couldn't be innocent enough to not know the things you were doing to him, the things you were making him feel, the urges that blossomed with every lingering look and longing touch you left on his body. you just couldn't be.

right?

yet, even when his idiotic brother dropped by his shop and shamelessly started flirting with you, you, it seemed like you didn't catch onto what he was doing.

"what's the freakiest place you've ever had sex in?" the fake blond asked, and osamu would've stopped him, if he wasn't curious to hear the answer for himself. still, he doesn't drive his full attention away from the counters he's been wiping, seemingly focused on the simple task.

you chuckled awkwardly under your breath. "that's inappropriate, tsu-"

"c'mon, tell me" he bumps his elbow against yours "can't be that bad"

"no i-... i've never uhm..." osamu can tell you're stumbling and stuttering to find an answer, so he lends you a few helping words.

"'tsumu” he calls "will ya stop harrassin' my employees?"

"'m just talkin' to her samu, no need to make a big fuss" he downs the last of his food and leaves, supposedly in a sudden rush.

it doesn't seem like it’s been hours since then, but the moon hangs low, and the crickets sing outside the window in spite of the late hour. despite the passing of time, not a single word has been said between you and your boss about the conversation you had with his brother, and every minute that passes only seems to thicken the tension between the two of you.

"shit" you mumble, mostly to yourself. you didn’t expect him to shoot up from his place, bent down searching through the lower cabinets.

"watch yer mouth" he says, an evident frown on his face, where he would once smile at you and nod in greeting.

"sorry" you reply, lip pouting slightly while you cleaned off your finger with a paper towel "just got a papercut" the blood tints the paper red and you wince at the stinging sensation.

"here" he holds out his hand to examine yours, even though you already cleaned most of it off, there's still a slight trickle of blood. he wipes it out with the towel he always hangs on his shoulder.

as he cleans your hand, he can't help but think about how it'd look so pretty wrapped around his cock. it would certainly bring more relief than his fist after all this time he's spent thinking about you while stroking himself late at night.

it’s not the first time thoughts like these cloud osamu's mind, but this time he's a little less discreet about it. he stares at your hand like he wants to devour it, and you'd be a fool not to notice it.

"samu?" you call out to his faraway mind, and he snaps out of his thoughs, loosening his grip around your hand.

"right" he mumbles, clearing his throat "sorry"

"thank you" you almost whisper, if he wasn't so close to you, he probably wouldn't have heard it.

he turns and goes back to the cabinets, thinking about what you answered earlier. you'd never what? had sex? were you that uncorrupted?

it would make sense to him, and it would help ease the pain of seeing you let his brother flirt with you like he wasn't even there, but those are all selfish reasons he wants to believe, and he's too scared to ask.

apparently not scared enough.

“what were ya talkin’ about with my brother” he asks, nonchalant as ever, making your breath hitch as you turned around hesitantly.

“we were just chatting” you say, the slightest purse on your lips that tried to relieve the nervousness of the conversation.

“sorry about that” he apologizes. “he can be annoyin’ sometimes”

“oh no, he wasn’t” you lie, clenching around the table cloth you held in your hands. even if the talk had been going smoothly, you still felt on edge after the question his brother left you thinking about. “he was really friendly”

“really?” his hands find comfort in his pockets, and if you’d looked close enough, you would’ve seen the slight smirk in his lip, one that indicates how eager he is to hear what you had to say. “then why didn’ you answer his question?”

if only you knew how much it mattered to him, to know if you were a pretty untouched virgin or not. osamu miya likes to go for girls like you, college girls who look for a quick cashgrab as a part time employee, innocent little girls who unknowingly fall for his charms and next thing you know he’s ruining them with his cock.

but you feel different, you feel delicate. like a pretty piece of porcelain he might break if he continues to toy with you under his calloused hands. yet, he can’t help but think about how perfect he finds your body. perfectly ripe and ready to be filled to the brim with his seed, the perfect age to be plump and round with a child. his child.

“does it matter?”

oh, it does, especially when he pins you against the counter and grips your cheeks between his thumb and his index finger. “samu?” you ask, displaying that innocent look on your face he’d grown to hate.

“i told ya to watch yer mouth” his hands roam down your body until they grab at the back of your thighs. “now jump”

“samu i- i’ve never done anything like-“

“i said jump” hesitant with your actions, you jump and wrap your legs around his waist as he settles you on the shop counter, where he takes off your pants and runs a finger over your clothes slit.

“please” you grip his wrist and beg in hopes for him to stop, but he slaps it away, pinning them behind you with his other hand. he slides your panties down your legs and plays with your clit, circling the nub with his fingertips and watching as your expression changes from one of fear to pleasure.

“please what?” his breath shudders against your neck, where he nuzzles his head and finds comfort in your scent. he slowly inserts a finger into your hole, scanning your face and searching for any signs of discomfort, despite him practically forcing you into this position.

you’re not strong enough to answer him, too lost in the way his fingers feel inside you. you’d been too afraid to do anything by yourself, but god did it feel so good when you gave yourself up to him, slightly bucking your hips into his thrusting fingers and arching your back into his frame.

he’s fond of every little expression you make, the bite of your lips, the clench of your thighs around his hand, and the tilt of your head, willingly granting him access to the skin, all for him to mark, bite and suck. all for him to claim as his.

“d’ya like it?” he asks, putting another one of his fingers to use inside your tight walls, feeling them clench and suck his fingers back inside every time he was close to taking them out.

“yes! yes! i-i... mmh!” you can’t even finish the sentence, not only because you’re sobbing and clenching around his digits uncontrollably at the foreign yet pleasurable sensation, but also because his lips suddenly enclosed yours in a hungry kiss.

he didn’t even have to put up a fight with you, pleased to find you let him do whatever he wanted with your mouth. his tongue tangles with yours in a passionate clash of lips, until he pulls away at the feeling of your hips wildly bucking against his hand, a sign of your inevitable orgasm approaching.

“feels weird ‘samu! ‘s-‘samu please!” the implication of your sensations being new to you made his cock strained against his pants, threatening the thick fabric of his jeans to snap if he grew even harder. the tight knot in your stomach finally snaps when he curls his fingers, sending you into ecstasy as your vision blocked out and you moaned uncontrollably loud.

still, after everything, osamu hasn’t forgotten where he is, and he knows his shop isn’t a decent place to lose your virginity. so he puts you down with shaky legs and slips up your panties, catching you before your trembling thighs can treason you and make you fall.

“do ya have a car here?” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter and puts a hand on your hip, guiding you over to the door which he locks before he continues to walk to his car. the dim lighting of the parking made this the perfect spot, if he were to fuck you in his car, no one would see it. but he has self control, or at least he tells himself that.

“no, my friend usually picks me up” he hums an answer and opens the passenger door to his car.

“i live a few minutes from here” he explains “wanna come over?” he asks, fully aware that he’s taking a leap of faith and you could just refuse him. but that’s not the case, and he’s more than happy to see you hesitantly get in his car and put your bag in your lap, covering yourself as much as you can since he ‘forgot’ to give you back your shorts.

the short ride to his house is awkwardly silent, and terribly torturous. his hand had found home in your thigh, and it had only sent an ache between your legs like you’d never felt before, prompting a clench from your thighs every so often.

he wasn’t lying, he only lived ten minutes away from his shop, but the distance seemed so much longer when his lingering touch would leave you high with the need for more.

“you ready?” he asks, holding the door open for you again as he waits for you to take his hand and get out of his car. he’s quick with hoisting you up and wrapping your thighs against his hips, carrying you to his doorway and leading the way to his room. there, he gently placed you on the bed and stripped off his clothing, taking off the apron he should’ve taken off at the shop, his shirt, his pants and—

“eager?” he can see the wanting look in your eyes, he’d be a fool not to notice it. his voice only startles you out of your thoughts, enough to make you stand up and take off your shirt as well, now fully exposed to him if it weren’t for the bra covering up your tits. there’s only so much he can hold back, but right now, with those pretty puppy eyes you unintentionally give him, he just can’t help it when he takes off your bra and slightly suckles at your nipple, circling his tongue around your perky nub and watching your face warm up in embarrassment.

he takes you to his bed again, this time while he plants kisses all over your neck. he’s hungry with the way he nips and bites at the skin, leaving a trail of teeth marks that would need to be covered up in the morning. in the morning, because right now, you couldn’t be bothered to care about anything else other than the way he rutted against you.

his cock already seemed big when he hadn’t taken off his briefs, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he slipped them off and rubbed his tip against your clit, right?

he was huge, thick tip dripping precum, with a girth that looked too big to be real, pulsing against your pussy. he positions it against your drooling hole, using your slick to lube up his tip and feeling— metal?

you sit up, leaning against your elbows to see the prince albert piercing that runs along his tip, metal jewelry threatening to slip into your pussy, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“i-it won’t fit!” you kick and shake your thighs around him, only for him to put your ankles together and fold your legs over his shoulder, pinning you down and slipping in the pierced head of his cock. you wince and gasp at the sudden stretch, silenced by his mouth clashing against yours, eagerly nipping at your bottom lip, desperate to drink in all your saccharine moans.

“good girl” he praises, slipping in inch by inch of his cock into your tight virgin walls “fuck- this tight little cunt is suckin’ me in, want ma cock princess? yeah? gonna stuff ya full of me ‘til ya can’t even speak, you’ll just be a dumb baby for me”

“hurts!” your words only drive him closer to shoving himself in one smooth thrust, but he holds back, he sees how much you struggle to take barely half of him, he wants to make this good for you to. he wants to make your first time your best time, the one you’ll remember and think about if you ever fuck another man. he wants to mold your insides to fit his cock perfectly, he wants to train you to be his perfect little girl who won’t find another way to get off if she doesn’t have his cock, he wants you to depend on him to always make you feel good.

“‘s ok princess” he leans down, folding you into a mating press as he kisses your neck and slips in the last of his cock, covered in a thin layer of white sheen. “my good girl, creamin’ around me” he mumbles against your ear while he starts a slow pace into your pussy, carefully rutting his hips into you, almost afraid he would break you. “so pretty”

“please!” you sob, tears stream down your face despite his carefulness, it would break his heart, but he can feel the way your own body betrays you, clenching around him and pulling him in for more of the delicious sensation of his cock dragging against your walls. “so big! c-can’t take it!”

“sure ya can, look” he puts a hand to your tummy, guiding you to do the same as he puts his hand over yours. there’s a small bulge, that appears and disappears whenever he thrusts in and out. “you’re takin’ it so well princess, keep yer hand right there” his other hand starts working tight circles against your clit, making you throw back your head at the sudden sensation.

“no! if you do that i-!”

“what are ya gonna do? cum? clench around my cock like yer doin’ right now every time i praise ya?” you fist the sheets to your sides, anything to relieve the aching between your legs and the tight knot that keeps forming in your stomach again.

“please don’t!” you desperately paw at his wrist, only to be slapped away and for him to increase the speed of his cock, rutting into your with more force. suddenly, the head of his piercing hits a different spot, one that left you gasping for air and arching your back against the mattress. “ah! right there- right there ‘samu!”

“yeah? you like it when i fuck ya right there?” he parrots, angling his hips at the same spot over and over, abusing it until he’s sloppily thrusting into you, on the verge of cumming and spilling all his load into you. “my pretty girl, moanin’ like a bitch in heat, all because i’m makin’ ya feel good”

“yes ‘samu! please please, please m-make me feel good! wanna cum, please!” fresh tears roll down your cheeks as you scream and beg for him, unwillingly rutting your hips against him as you cum around his cock, your high too much for your sensitive body as you whine uncontrollably when he doesn’t stop. you’re too overstimulated to say a word, gone too dumb on his cock to even realize that you’re babbling little nonsense words about how good you feel, and how much you want him.

“dumb lil’ thing” he says, giving one sharp, final thrust before he empties his load between your legs, deep inside you, careful not to move you too much in fear of his cum spilling out of your clenching hole.

he’s right, you are a dumb little thing, because as soon as he pulls out you’re desperately bucking your hips, blindly searching for him in hope he would fill up the sudden emptiness in your pussy, unintentionally spilling all his hard work between your thighs.

“no!” he grunts, slapping your thigh and grounding you to the mattress as you wince in pain, dark color blossoming at the skin where he’d placed the spank. “look what you’ve done, bad fuckin’ girl” he says, the sudden tone shift sends a tinge of fear all over your body, and you’re reduced to nothing but a kin to a stray puppy, a terrible look of guilt in your eyes, even if you don’t realize what you’ve done wrong.

“look at the mess you made” he mumbles, flipping you over and placing ass up “now i’m gonna have to fill ya up all over again”

©️ kaijime 2021 | all content belongs to kaijime, do not modify or repost

[ahundredtimesover]

Hii ☺️☺️ Are you taking drabble requests for the plm couple? I had an idea if you don’t mind. Jungkook and oc having a pregnancy scare? Maybe even them talking about their future about that topic and just overall fluff moments between them ☺️☺️

Happy one year to this story! 💕 So here's something I got to squeeze in. Thanks for this, anon. 🙂

Title: Please Love Me Drabble (02) - The Talk pt.2

WC: 4,496

Warnings: mentions of past illness, pregnancy talk

Series Masterlist

##

The hospital’s lights are blinding, and the scent of disinfectants and antiseptics stifle Jungkook’s senses. Underneath all that, he knows it smells of fear and loneliness.

It’s what you said it smelled like for you before, during the time when the hospital wasn’t yet home, back when it was just a place where you went to get healed so one day you could play, your mother told you once.

But you got used to it; you had to. Jungkook remembers the night you told him what the experience was like, and how you fell asleep cradled in his arms, the guilt over not being there for you when you were younger crippling him.

He wished he was there to support you, maybe hold your hand when you were scared or watched cartoons with you while they injected things on your body. Maybe he could’ve told you jokes so you’d laugh, or brought you your favorite snacks, or maybe drew flowers for you because he would’ve been too shy to ask his mother to buy them for him.

He hates thinking of you being in pain, sometimes wishing there’s a way for him to erase your memory of what that felt like. But he can’t, so he ensures that you don’t go through that again, or at least, that he’ll be there for you when it’s unavoidable.

“You okay?” Jungkook asks, his hand tightening its grip on yours.

“I’ve been coming here every year, Kook. We were here last year,” you remind him. “I’m used to it; everything is okay. And they will be. Dr. Kwon will tell me the same thing he does every year - that I have nothing to worry about. And that means so do you.”

You kiss his hand, knowing that always helps soothe him. In over two years of marriage, you’ve come to realize how sensitive Jungkook is, that when it comes to people he loves, he likes to share in what they feel, whether it’s joy or something else.

“I guess I’m still getting used to it,” he sighs, kissing your hand in return. “Just the thought of you going to the hospital makes me feel uneasy.”

“I know, but this is a routine check-up. It’s really not much. But I’m glad you’re here, though,” you say, urging him to look you in the eyes, your next line of offense to calm him down. “I always feel better when you are.”

He manages a smile, and it’s the same time when the secretary calls your name, informing you that Dr. Kwon is ready to see you.

You and Jungkook enter the office and are greeted with the smile that’s brought you comfort since you were old enough to recognize faces.

“Ah, ___,” he smiles. “It’s good to see you. I’m glad this only happens once a year.”

“So am I, but this one isn’t,” you motion towards Jungkook on your left. “He wishes I don’t need to see you at all.”

“Well, that would be ideal, right?” Dr. Kwon laughs. “But you know why you’re here. It’s a small price to pay, really.”

Jungkook nods and tries to sit comfortably, listening to the routine questions about how you’re feeling, the frequency of your palpitations, and other instances when you’d felt discomfort. You answer one-by-one, and Jungkook is relieved that nothing seems to be concerning, as Dr. Kwon, after examining you, states that your heart is healthy and like always, there’s nothing to worry about.

Until Jungkook remembers what you’d mentioned recently.

“Didn’t you say you were feeling nauseous the other day?”

You suddenly remember, but you can’t recall when or what might’ve been the cause.

“Is that an unusual feeling?” Dr. Kwon takes notes as he asks. “Any other physical pain during that time?”

“Just stomach cramps, but I guess that’s normal?” You reply.

Your doctor furrows his brows, prompting Jungkook to do the same.

“What does your face mean? Is that a bad sign? Is there something wrong?” Jungkook bombards the older man with questions, his earlier assured face now turning worried and curious.

“Well, given that I look after your overall health, may I know if you’re on birth control?”

“Not anymore,” you answer. “I had my implant removed and, well, Jungkook and I talked about how I didn’t need to get back on it.”

You turn to your husband, seeking affirmation, something he gives. You both knew that your families are expecting children. It’s a topic you also have talked about before, how you want children to love and raise, and how whatever apprehensions there may be about bearing them, you’ll love each other’s fears away. But you also haven’t been actively trying, deciding to let nature take its course. If it happens, it happens.

“And would you know if your period is late?”

You check your tracker and say that you’re off by a few days, but that you’ve always been irregular with your cycle, and you never minded before.

Dr. Kwon hums again before he looks at you cheerfully.

“Are you thinking that I might be…”

“Pregnant? Could be,” he smiles. “Those are symptoms but we won’t know until you take a test. Since you’re already here, you could take the blood pregnancy test and get the results in a few days.”

“Oh, alright,” you say, a little unsure, as you and Jungkook hadn’t planned this, not so soon at least.

It’s one thing to say you’ll accept whatever and whenever it happens, but it’s another when the possibility is right there.

You look at Jungkook who’s nibbling his lips, still-furrowed brows and eyes reflecting so many things at once, and you grip his hand again.

“Let’s go to the lab,” he says, after Dr. Kwon gives his instructions, and you nod and follow his lead.

**

The test is a quick one, with the technicians saying they’ll inform you once the results are ready so you could meet with your doctor.

The ride home is relatively quiet, as Jungkook lets the soft music fill the air, content with just having your hand on top of his as it rests on the side.

You both don’t talk about the pregnancy test for the next few days. Having taken it during a weekday, you had the rest of the week filled with work and deadlines to focus on.

It’s a Saturday when you’re scheduled to return to the hospital for your results, thinking it’s a good time to consult with Dr. Han about your options should you find out that you’re pregnant. Just like Dr. Kwon, she’s been your doctor for years, and she’s very familiar with your case.

You’re seated in front of her with Jungkook next to you, his hand in yours again, when she gives the news.

“It was a false alarm, I’m sorry,” she sighs, looking at you with a sullen face, upset that she had to be the one to give the news. “But this happens and it’s okay. You shouldn’t feel discouraged.”

“I understand,” you say, letting go of Jungkook’s hand as you stand up. “I wasn’t really expecting it but we had to be sure.”

“Yes, of course,” she smiles now, leading you to the door. “Come see me when you’re feeling a little off, okay? I can give you medicine for cramps if it bothers you again. We just have to be proactive and be mindful of everything you’re feeling.”

“I will. Thank you again, Dr. Han.”

Jungkook barely says a word again, and you’re starting to get used to him being like this. He’s usually talkative, having something to say about work, game nights with the guys, something he watched on TV, a funny video he saw on whatever social media page he’s on, or a weird dream he had.

But since the possibility of a pregnancy came up, he hasn’t really been talking much. You know this is a sensitive topic for him, and you’ve always understood. It’s not that it bothers you that he doesn’t seem to be ready for a family yet; you just wish he doesn’t look so down about it every time.

“The girls are inviting us for trivia night at the bar,” you tell him as you enter your apartment, trying to lighten the mood. You know that games and beer with your friends will make him feel better given his competitive nature. “Minhyuk is busy so we can have Tae and Jimin join us for a couple’s match.”

“Sure, that sounds good,” he says, trying to look excited about tonight. “Can I take a nap before we head out? Just want a bit of rest since work’s been kinda tough lately.”

“Oh, we could just stay home if you want? I’m sure Yeji and Nari wouldn’t mind.”

“It’s okay, babe. A night out would be good.”

He kisses your cheek and heads to your room, leaving a cold and unsettling feeling in his wake.

**

Trivia night ended up being more fun than Jungkook expected. Perhaps it was seeing all your friends again - bickering, fighting their competitors, being embarrassingly flirtatious with everyone, and being drunk. But it was also seeing you enjoy yourself so much, laughing so hard you’d fallen off the chair a few times, and how you always gave him a kiss whenever he got the correct answer.

It helped him get his head out of his ass with how he’s been since your first visit to the doctor, and he’s trying to keep that up at this Sunday’s usual soccer game before lunch at your parents’ house.

It’s a fun and noisy affair, and much as Jungkook adores all of your siblings’ kids, sometimes they remind him of what he’s still not ready to give you.

Ji-a is seated on your lap facing you, clearly not finding the little league soccer game the least bit interesting.

“Auntie, one mo chocowate pwease,” she chirps, mouth already open and eyelashes fluttering.

You laugh and squish her cheeks before flying the chocolate airplane into her mouth. She delightfully hums and asks for another one.

She’s adorable. She has Junghyun’s eyes but definitely has Yeri’s smile, and her charms.

“Ji-a, come to your favorite uncle. You haven’t minded me all morning,” Jungkook pouts at the 3-year old.

“But Auntie is my favowite,” she hugs you.

“I’m your favorite, too! Your favorite uncle!” He argues.

“She’s my favowite auntie and uncle,” she beams.

You stick your tongue out at him and he scowls at you in response.

“Come on, I’ll ferris wheel you,” he reaches out his arms with a cunning smile on his face, knowing that always works. And it does.

She jumps at him and Jungkook immediately hooks his hands under her arms, rotating her in the air like the carnival ride she could only watch from afar. You smile at the sight - at Ji-a squealing with joy and Jungkook laughing along, the brightness of his eyes unmistakable at how happy he’s making the little girl.

It feels bittersweet, knowing how amazing Jungkook would be as a dad, but knowing it’s something he’s not yet ready for. And it’s okay, really. You’re only midway through your late-twenties. You have a few more years before that first-pregnancy cut-off before it gets risky. And you’ve been savoring every bit of time you have with your husband amidst his busy schedule.

Jungkook finishes his little ride and secures Ji-a in his arms, but she turns to you with her arms out.

“Auntie!” She calls for you, and you laugh at a frowning Jungkook as you take her this time. “Can you bwade my haiw?”

“I will, sweetie. Come here.”

You have your girls’ time while Jungkook focuses on the game, eyes flitting to you every once in a while, seeing your glowing face as you bond with your niece.

He thinks about this at night, and then the next day as he sits cross-legged on the couch at Junghyun’s office, eyes far away as his brother types his presentation for this afternoon’s meeting.

“Are you going to actually work today or do you plan to just sit on my couch and wait for an epiphany or something?” The older man asks, chuckling at his brother’s forlorn face.

It takes a while before Jungkook says something.

“Does not wanting to have kids yet make me selfish?”

“Uh, no. Who told you that?”

“Everyone.”

“Since when did you care about what everyone says?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Since I fell in love with my wife.”

“That’s… not a very good thought to have. I doubt ___ would want you not feeling like yourself since being with her,” Junghyun says.

“Not in that way. More like, I’ve started caring about actually being a decent person since we became more. You know, because I want to be good enough for her.”

“This again, huh? I thought we were over with the insecurities, Kook.”

Junghyun stands to sit on the couch, knowing his brother would need his full attention.

The younger man disregards the statement, expressing what’s been bugging him lately instead.

“___ and I had a false alarm. She took a test and when the doctor said she wasn’t pregnant, I breathed a sigh of relief. Right there. Next to her. As she held my hand. And I don’t know if she heard it.”

“She probably did. And if she didn’t, she probably knows you’re relieved. She’s not exactly oblivious to your hesitation when it comes to having children,” Junghyun states.

“I’m not hesitant. It’s not even that I’m not ready. I just don’t want it right now,” Jungkook admits. “And it’s not me being scared of whatever pain she’ll experience but it’s me being selfish, because I want it to be just us. I want our mornings and our evenings and our in-betweens. I want game nights and weekend dates and sleeping in and all our trips.”

Jungkook heaves, as if his desires are so heavy to carry that expressing them leaves him breathless.

“I want her attention on me, and my attention on her… I just want as much time with her because I feel like I missed out on a lot when we were growing up. Like, 2 years of marriage still isn’t enough to make up for all the time wasted.”

“Maybe it isn’t, but you’re the only ones who can say that,” Junghyun responds. “No one is pressuring you, Kook. Not even our parents, although I think they’ll probably hold the biggest celebration when your first child is born,” he jokes, but it’s not something that amuses Jungkook.

“Look, it isn’t selfish,” the older man assures. “It’s perfectly normal to want to have your spouse’s full attention. You’ve seen how parenting is like with us. It’s absolutely satisfying, but it does require a lot of sacrifices, and that includes time with your wife. And if it’s not something you want to give up yet, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Jungkook has always looked up to his brother, seeking his approval, looking for him when things are a mess in his mind, needing his words that affirm that he’s not a terrible person, that he’s understood, that he’s loved no matter what. His conflicted face softens a bit as he looks at Junghyun.

“Kook, you know I say this out of affection but you’ve always craved attention ever since we were kids. I can’t really analyze why that is but it’s not hard to see that you just want to be loved.”

Jungkook chuckles at the cheesiness of it, but it’s not something he denies.

“Your exes wanted your body, your money, or your lifestyle. It was only with ___ that you got to show the parts of you that you didn’t want to show others, and she loves you, like she’s head-over-heels in love with you, despite and because of it,” Junghyun continues. “So much as you want attention because you felt you didn’t have it, she likes giving it to you because it’s all she had when she was growing up. It’s one of the reasons why we always thought it would work out.”

“Makes sense,” Jungkook huffs. “I guess I just don’t want to feel like parenting would take away from my marriage, you know what I mean?”

“I do, and that’s perfectly understandable,” Jungyun comforts. “You and ___ got into this arrangement and only fell in love months into the marriage. You’re technically still in your honeymoon stage. There’s still so much to learn and you’ll need to know how to manage a lot of things once you become parents. It’s how you make sure no one gets hurt - not you or her, and definitely not your kids.”

Jungkook nods and repeats the words in his head, taking them to heart and letting them ease his mind because he doesn’t want this feeling to go on.

“So you’re good? You can go back to your room now so I can focus on my presentation, yeah?” Junghyun pulls his chuckling brother off the couch, patting him on the back then pushing him out the door.

**

You and Jungkook have dinner with your parents that night. You don’t mention the pregnancy test, nor do you act like Jungkook’s recent disposition has been bothering you. It goes smoothly as it always does, given how your parents always insist on taking you and Jungkook out every month just to catch up, even if you see them almost every Sunday.

You head home, a conversation about how your days went filling the car this time. It’s welcomed, and you’re glad he doesn’t seem as dazed or conflicted as the past few days.

As Jungkook removes his coat and lays it on the bed, you approach him and ask, “can you have a bath with me?”

“Of course,” he smiles.

He follows you into the bathroom where you’ve already started filling the tub, your scented candles calming his senses.

You turn around, letting Jungkook unzip your dress and unhook the clasp of your bra. You face him and untangle the tie he’s loosened, then you unbutton his polo, followed by his slacks. You help him remove all his clothes, all done with nothing but the sound of the running water and your soft breathing.

You love your baths. It’s one you take every night to end the long day, and it’s time you like to have for yourself. You like to think here, and many instances you were hit with inspiration as you were enveloped in warmth.

So the the very few times that you ask him to join you, Jungkook knows you want to be intimate with him, not in the kind that would end in sex, but the kind that ends with a different kind of bareness and vulnerability.

Standing in front of each other naked, your eyes bore into his the way his own bore into yours. You give him a smile, something he returns, and then you get inside the tub, burying yourself under the sheath of foam, instantly feeling relaxed.

You let out a satisfied hum as he settles behind you, feeling his hands gently shift you so you’d feel comfortable between his legs. He knows how much you like that position.

“You good, babe?”

You nod in response, briefly giving him a smile before you lean on his chest, his hot breath fanning your cheek. His arms envelop you, his fingers grazing your skin, and you close your eyes to savor the feel of him. Much as the desire for him is constant, there are moments when you want him just this close, as the act of holding each other like this feels more intimate than what you usually do.

You can hear his breathing, hear every suppressed emotion exit his body.

It’s not long after when you turn to him and shift, sitting on his side with your legs laid over his lap so you can look at him and relish in the beauty you once only admired from a distance.

He turns to you and you gently kiss his lips, then his cheek, then his jaw, then the beauty mark on his neck.

“I love you,” you say, staring at his eyes so he knows you mean it, that you feel it, that you stand by it.

“I love you.” He says it like a whisper, not in that he doubts it, but in that he’s worried he’s not doing it right.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Did my brother talk to you?” He chuckles.

“I don’t need him to tell me something’s bothering you for me to know, honey. You’re more expressive than you think,” you smile.

Jungkook takes this, knowing that just like he tells you to talk to him when something’s on your mind, he needs to do the same.

“I’ve just been thinking. And sort of feeling bad about it,” he starts. “I… I was a bit anxious when you took the test, and then I felt relieved when it was negative.”

He looks down in shame, not wanting to see the disappointment in your eyes.

“I could tell, Kook,” you say, with no hint of sadness in your voice. “That sigh of relief wasn’t the most subtle, mind you.”

Your smile is sweet yet teasing, and that helps him quite a bit.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think that I wasn’t looking forward to it,” he explains. “And it’s not about being afraid. I mean, yes, that will always be there but I trust you, and I trust what the doctors are saying that you’ll be okay but… I just… I keep thinking that I just want you for myself. For now.”

You look at him, as if asking him to keep going, and he curses instead. “That sounded so conceited. I thought saying it to my brother would make it less so but no, it’s still very much selfish.”

“What’s selfish about wanting me for yourself, Kook? I’m your wife. I wouldn’t mind if that’s what you think. I’d like that very much, actually,” you giggle.

“You know what I mean,” he sighs. “I know what’s expected of us. And I know you want to have kids, too. And I see it whenever we're with our nieces and nephews, how you look at them with so much love and yearning, like you can’t wait to have your own.”

“Honey, I look at them with so much love because I love them so much. And not because of anything else,” you correct him. “I do want to have kids, we’ve talked about this. But we also said we’d have them once we’re ready, and if you aren’t, then that’s—“

“It’s not that I’m not ready,” he interjects. “I just want to keep having all of this. Taking baths with you, getting drunk with our friends on a weekend, booking a cruise for the next day just because, staying up late to beat you at Mario Kart and then sleeping in until the afternoon.”

You playfully roll your eyes because he just had to bring up Mario Kart and his current lead against you.

“Every time I think about being with you, there’s always something new I want to do or try. And I get so excited and happy and I just get this feeling of, fuck yes I’m living my best life with the woman I love and it’s amazing,” he continues.

“And it’s not that I think that having kids will keep us from doing that but, there’s just so much I missed out on with you because I was a stubborn jerk and that’s on me but… I want to do the father thing the right way, but I want to do this - the husband thing - the right way, too. And that comes first. And I just closed off because it felt selfish, and I don’t want to be selfish.”

You thumb his pouty lips, attempting to drag it up for a smile, and it doesn’t work so you kiss him instead.

“You aren’t, Kook,” you comfort him. “I like all this, too, just doing whatever whenever with you. And I admit, I got a little sad when I realized how relieved you were but thinking about it after, I’m not actually upset about not being pregnant. That just means more time having moments like this with you.”

You take his arm and motion for him to hold you tighter, prompting you to move closer so you’re now flushed against him. You get to marvel at him even more, with his damp hair and the trickles of sweat on his forehead. The water drips on his body so gracefully, making his soft caramel skin glow underneath the lights.

He’s toned, and much as you want to leave pretty kisses on the dip between his breasts, you also just want to stare it as his face - onyx eyes speaking to you without words, his smile healing parts of you that you didn’t think needed any more healing, and his mouth tasting of cherry and mint and all you want is to kiss those lips forever.

You lay your head on his chest and feel his heartbeat.

“I love that you’re thinking about us the way you are,” you comfort him. “I know there’s more to know about each other, there’s more to experience, but you wanting to do this husband thing right so you could do the dad thing right is far from selfish, Kook. Wanting things for yourself doesn’t always mean that. I don’t want you to think that loving me the way you do makes you selfish. Because it doesn’t.”

He kisses your forehead, and he feels the last bits of his worry slowly melt away.

“Does loving me make you a better person?” You ask.

“More than you know, babe.”

“Good, because it’s the same with me,” you face him again. “Loving you has taught me many things, Kook. And me not being pregnant just means we have more time to learn. We’ll deal with whatever happens when it happens.”

“That does sound good,” he kisses you again, and you can feel him smile against your skin. You’ve missed that.

You stay in the tub a bit more, talking about the other things you want to do together, and the ones you want to do for yourselves. There’s that pottery class you want to enroll in, and an art teaching gig that Nari mentioned last weekend. Jungkook says he’s been thinking about joining the recreational soccer club that Jimin told him about, and you both get excited at the other things you could expend your energy on.

Eventually, you rinse and get ready for bed. You lay on your back while Jungkook hugs you from your side, your fingers combing through his hair.

You fall asleep like this, separated by breaths and bound together by a love that’s still learning, that’s still growing, that still needs time.

##

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[thebeautyoffanfics]

Hello!! I love your work and i was wondering if you could do an sk8 imagine where cherry joe miya reki and or langa have a s/o that does sports like volleyball or cross country and they get injured like in haikyuu if you've seen? Sorry if its to much

cherry/kaoru sakurayashiki x gn!reader, kojiro nanjo x gn!reader, miya chinen x gn!reader, reki kyan x gn!reader, langa hasegawa x gn!reader

a/n: hihi!! Thank you so much for that- and I’d be glad to! It’s definitely not too much, and I’m super sorry for how long this took;; thank you so much for requesting, and I hope it turned out alright!!

I also sincerely apologize for how short these are;;;

warnings: slight blood mention!

word count: 2,133

cherry/kaoru sakurayashiki <3

Kaoru comes to every event you have so- there’s no doubt, he’d be there when it happened.

(In fact, while he does it to support you, if you ask him why he shows up every time- he’s simply like “what if you got hurt? Someone needs to tell you where you went wrong.” Of course, he’s joking, and doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you.)

Kaoru keeps such a close eye on you- be it out of interest of the game, or interest in you- or maybe it’s both?

So, of course, he notices a fraction of a second right before something goes wrong. It’s not enough time to shout- it’s barely enough for him to have noticed it. Almost as if everything went in slow motion.

You stepped to try and hit the ball, as you do in volleyball- yet, Kaoru noticed the way you stumbled for a moment, your footing getting messed up. It was too quickly, as you were already in the process of moving, your foot rolling sideways.

As if watching your ankle roll wasn’t painful enough, Kaoru felt discomfort throughout his entire body as you stumbled to the ground- another player who had begun to run to hit the ball haphazardly tripping over you.

A pause was signaled, teammates and staff running over to check on you and the other fallen player- Kaoru was there as quickly as he could manage, running onto the court, though he was confident that he wasn’t allowed to.

He’d ignore people who told him that he should move, instead volunteering to (telling the others that he would) carry you off of the court.

Once they got you on the side, the other player uninjured but still somewhat sorry for causing you any more pain, Kaoru would be in Mom Mode.

Lots of questions, lots of concerns, lots of ordering around.

“How badly does it hurt?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Hurry up, fetch them some ice.”

“No, you cannot lean on me. Your ankle is swollen, I’ll carry you.”

Eventually, you may have to tell him that you aren’t dying. You just hurt your ankle a bit.

To which Kaoru would, with a slight pink dusting his face, declare that he could care less. You’re his s/o, and he’s not about to let his injured s/o do anything that could worsen their injury.

Expect this sort of spoiling to continue for a while- at least a day or two. He claims that he just doesn’t want your injury to worsen- though that much is technically true, he also just… enjoys taking care of you.

But he’d never admit that <3

joe/kojiro nanjo <3

Shows up at every game, but he honestly gets more invested in the actual game than Kaoru does. This man get so into it that it’s honestly quite funny- even when he isn’t shouting or hollering, he’s still on the edge of his seat.

Still, the sound of someone hitting a gym floor… is an uncomfortable and very distinct sound. As is the concerned conversation that instantly picks up.

It only takes a split second for Joe to realize that you’re lying on the floor, clearly unconscious- so, barely thinking, he runs to the edge of the court.

Unlike Kaoru, he’s not going to cause too much of a scene before the coaches can decide what to do- but, the moment you’re carried off the court, he’s running around and standing next to you.

“What happened-?!” Joe would question, as a teammate fanned you gently with a clipboard.

“It just looks like they’ve either overworked themself a bit or haven’t had enough water.”

(Boy oh boy are you about to get a lecture on the importance of both rest and hydration-)

As you slowly opened your eyes, Joe would let the others do whatever they found fit. However, he’s not leaving your side. Even if you have to go to the hospital- he’s right beside you, calm as he can manage to be on the outside. Is he panicking on the inside? Oh, most definitely.

Once everything is settled, Joe is going to be both relieved and lightheartedly frustrated (well… actually, he’s not really frustrated- but he’s going to pretend he is) to find out that you simply pushed yourself too far past your limit.

“You need to take breaks, sweetheart,” He’d sigh, pressing a firm kiss to your temple as you sipped water.

You’d better promise him that you’ll take better care, or else he will noooot shut up. Even if you do promise, he’s still going to be… a tad annoying for a while-

If you thought he checked up on you a lot beforehand, it’s going to be worse for a while. He’s not going to want you to work too hard for… honestly, the rest of the week-

After the week is up, he’ll still send you reminders on average to hydrate! Eat! Take a break!! Regularly!!! Rest regularly, (Y/N)!!

You wouldn’t think Joe had as much of a “mom mode” as Kaoru… but he does. He definitely does. And you deeefinitely understand that side of him after this incident- but, hey, he’s at least glad that he can attempt to get you to never push yourself too far again.

(However, he does understand the urge to keep going- trust him, he really does. You certainly can’t think that he’s at the point he’s at both in physical strength and skating related things without having pushed himself further than he should have? No, no.

But, because he pushed himself too far several times, he doesn’t want you to experience the same. It’s not pleasant- he had to learn the hard way that achieving goals simply takes time. So, he wants you to learn that easier than he did- although he’s sure you’re already fairly aware.)

miya chinen <3

To be honest… he’s gonna be on his phone for the most of the time- sitting in a corner, glancing up every so often to see who’s winning.

So, it takes him a second to notice that the gym is eerily silent. When murmers start to pick up, Miya glances up and feels panic surge through his body when you’re on the floor crying.

He’s worried, but doesn’t want to drag attention to himself- and he knows you wouldn’t want to potentially get any more embarrassed than however you feel trying not to cry in front of a crowd.

Still, he’d analyze everything as best as he could- trying to at least see what happened. When all he could pick up on was that you were holding your wrist, he’d whisper to the person next to him- asking what on earth happened, and preparing to stand up to go to you.

“Seems like they fell on their wrist.”

Miya would shove his game in his hoodie pocket and hop off of the bleachers, then around the court- over to your side. If anyone shouted or questioned him, he’d give a curt excuse of being your boyfriend. He may be smaller and less intimidating than the rest, but he’s not going to leave your side until you’re alright.

Miya would sneak peaks at your wrist, as someone examined your wrist- the person judging whether or not you should go to the hospital.

Meanwhile, Miya already determined that, either way, your wrist… well- looked kinda bad.

So, he’d probably say that-

While the person may give him a surprised look, Miya would be content at the slight laugh you gave.

Once all the questions were finished, Miya would offer to hold the ice to your wrist- whether you want him to or not, he’d stay by your side, attempting to distract you from the pain.

He’d try a variety of things, settling on whichever you preferred- be it watching him play a game, talking to him, or just having him give his two cents on the events of the game. No matter what it is, he just wants your focus to be elsewhere than the pain.

reki kyan <3

Babe, he’s both into the game and you-

No matter what sport or activity it is, he’s giving everything his entire attention. No matter if it’s a sport he’s been interested in for a while, or something he’s never considered watching- if you’re in it, he’s going to get invested.

Of course, the moment Reki sees you trip over your foot, knees and arms hitting the hard floor, he instinctively stands up. Without hesitation, he’s running towards the track, being barely beaten by the people closer to you.

Once you’re moved off of the track, he’s by your side, panicking on the inside and outside. Maybe he’s a bit more freaked out internally, since he doesn’t want his worry to affect you, but- he honestly can’t help it, and doesn’t necessarily think to control his emotions when his s/o has blood running down their limbs.

“Are you alright?! Did you break anything-?!”

“I-I’m fine, Reki,” You’d mutter, grasping at your scraped knees despite the blood trickling down your arms.

Reki will not leave your side- but, when someone runs up with a damp rag and bandages, he’s taking them and offering to clean your wounds. If you let him, he’ll be insanely gentle, not wanting to hurt you too badly. If you deny, he’ll let you clean them yourself, and rub your back gently as you do so.

Reki has little sisters, and skates, so he’s very familiar with scrapes like that- so, at least he knows how to take care of it! He makes sure that, once you get home/to a bathroom, you’re cleaning it off with soap and water. He’ll also be more than willing to wrap up your injuries!

He definitely makes sure that you keep your injuries as clean as possible! Sends you regular reminders to clean them off, and to change the bandages as often as you should!! Not necessarily “mom mode”, since he’s not going to be too overbearing, but he definitely goes into… protective mode! Or… doctor Reki mode!

No matter what, he’s going to make sure that you’re extra safe next time you run! Even if you took all the necessary precautions, he’s double and triple checking.

Or, if you were maybe just tired or something as simple as a loose shoelace, he’s making sure that you’re hydrated, well-rested, and that your shoes. are. tied.

langa hasegawa <3

Honestly, he’s… a tad bit slow.

Langa may not understand what’s going on, so honestly he’s just… looking around, mostly at you- not a thought related to the game in that sweet head of his. Actually, he’s probably thinking about things completely off topic- planning out what he’ll do tomorrow, or something he thinks he needs to tell you when the game is over.

Though his eyes are on you, he’s not necessarily fully processing everything. That being said, it takes him a moment for him to realize… hey, maybe (Y/N) kneeling and holding their ankle isn’t a good thing.

Once it clicks that you’re genuinely in pain, he’s moving closer to the court- not on it, but he’s standing at the front of the bleachers, wringing his hands nervously and peering over at you.

Langa will watch anxiously as you’re taken off of the court, and will be only more confused as you apologize to another player- yet, you’re holding ice to your ankle?? If he had an unrelated question before, the only question he has now is “what happened???”

So, once the two of you make eye contact (after you ask someone if he can go over to you) and motion for Langa to join you- since you can very clearly see his concern- he immediately asks you what happened.

“I landed on their foot,” You sighed, pointing in the direction of one of your teammates.

“Oh… are you alright-?”

“I’m fine, no worries! I probably just… rolled, or maybe sprained it…? It’ll be fine before long,” You explained, wincing slightly.

To be honest, seeing you in pain was enough for Langa to feel pain- it was as if his ankle was slightly hurting, when yours was probably much more severe. But, that’s just Langa overthinking things-

Still, he’ll sit with you, even offering to hold the ice for you. And, once it’s time for you to leave, he’s not hesitating to tell you to hop on his back! He’s not as muscular as Joe, but don’t let that lanky exterior fool you- Langa can and will carry you. There’s no stopping him, and there’s no convincing him otherwise.

Langa isn’t the best at treating injuries, but he’ll definitely ask Reki what you should do-

Once Reki responds, Langa will tell you the exact words. He’ll do his best to make sure that you’re doing what Reki said!!

[yesimwriting]

The Needs of Pain

A/n as promised,,, here is my gift to you bc I finished ap gov today :))

The darkling x heartrender!reader story based on the whole ‘no one but me can hurt you’ thing :))

Warnings: sexual innuendos,, attempts to sexualize pain if you squint, kinda lemon-y

I kinda want to write a smutty part 2 let’s see lol 

Summary: after a training injury, Kirigan reveals how he views the dynamic of your relationship and figures out how to best help you work through the pian 

--

In an odd way, the most painful part of my injury had been the wound on my pride, not my shoulder. Though the pain that begins beneath my collarbone and continues down my left shoulder is not exactly pleasant. I can’t bring myself to pity myself too much as I stare at the extent of my burns. There’s a war going on. People die, people lose loved ones, I have to tolerate pain for an hour or two before a healer can be sent to be. 

I told Genya I’d be fine in the medical wing, but she insisted that I wait for a healer to be sent to me. The people here look up to me, if news of my injury got out, especially considering it’s a training wound, morale would take a blow we can’t currently afford. Genya had looked relatively sympathetic when she told me that many healers were occupied considering how difficult training had been and I had told her I could bear the weight. 

Now, in my room, staring at the basin full of water, I’m starting to regret my desire to be self sacrificing. I dip the towel in the water, squeezing out the excess before daring to dab the fabric on the outer edge of the wound. The feeling is fire against my skin all over again. An instinctual curse leaves me as I drop the towel on the counter that surrounds the basin. 

Arthur hadn’t meant it. I can still hear the frantic apologies tumbling from his full lips. He should have been more focused on the task at hand, he should have never stopped to look at me, at the way I could control so many living things at once. In some odd sense, his distraction had been a compliment. Many of the girls here would sell anything to have Arthur’s attention, even if it resulted in such a careless mistake. 

I grimace, picking up the towel and preparing to start again. I should at least clean it before the healers have to deal with both a physical injury and an infection. The sound of my door flying open and then shutting angrily is enough of a distraction for me to accidentally dab the towel against my skin too harshly. I curse again, turning my head towards the bathroom door. Did Genya exaggerate the severity of my wound? Are the healers that desperate to get to me? 

I turn on my toes, towel forgotten by the basen full of water as I approach the door that connects my room with the bathroom. “I’m--” Words meant to calm a frantic healer stick to the back of my throat as soon as I register all the black in the room. General Kirigan. Great. He no doubt heard about my injury after prying it from Genya and now he’s here to scold me for the childishness of it all. To be injured because a boy and I just couldn’t help ‘make eyes at each other’. All he does is insult my refusal to become bitter just because I was born possessing power. 

“You’re what?” His words are a different level of callous, darker than the shadows he creates with the will of his mind alone. “An idiot that let herself be sent back to her room instead of demanding to see a healer?” 

That’s an odd thing for him to focus his anger on. At least it’s not fully directed at me. On instinct, I half turn, attempting to hide my injury from his piercing eyes. My instinct tells me he should never see me so mortal. “Genya recommended it,” my words are determined yet calm, “It’s such a small injury it isn’t worth risking everyone’s morale. A healer will come here when one is available.” 

His face tightens in what must be some kind of disgusted disbelief. “Foolish girl--have you no instinct for preservation?” 

Every decision I’ve made since being injured made sense before he spoke to me. The fierceness of his voice leaves my face warmer than it was a moment ago and reminds me of the stem of my dislike for him. General Kirigan speaks and I am left a clumsy child. “Some things are more important than one’s self.” I expect he’ll turn that into something else to mock or belittle about me. “And it’s not a grave injury it’s barely--” 

The distance between us seemed so great less than a second ago, but he’s closed it so quickly, grabbing my left wrist and extending my arm forward so that I can’t hide anything from him. “You’re burned.” There’s the slightest bit of surprise coloring his words along with something else I can’t interpret. “How did you get burned?” 

Kirigan doesn’t know. My stomach knots, anticipating embarrassment. “Training incident--I was standing too close to an Inferni.” 

His grip on my arm tightens. I grimace as he pulls me forward with no regard for my injury. “Who?” The voracious way he says the word leaves my thoughts trembling. He is a void of darkness, starving for a victim to snuff the light out of.  

When my thoughts settle, I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. “I didn’t see, I was distracted by the burning.” I exhale slowly, desperate to escape the flames behind his eyes the way I could not escape the fire of earlier. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve been injured worse in training.” His hold on my arm doesn’t loosen, I glance down at his hand, his firm grip on me somehow worse than the burn. “You’ve injured me worse in training.” 

“I may push you, exhaust you, and leave you mad--but I have never done anything that comes close to--that!” The last of his words carry themselves louder than the rest. 

If the skin of my shoulder wasn’t so sensitive I’d try fighting his tightening grasp. The accusation on my part had been a little much, but it was meant to serve as a reminder that he’s not one to care about my comfort or well being. “Why does it matter?” I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “You’ve never cared about any of my injuries before.” 

Kirigan releases my arm in a stiff trance, raising his hand to brush his thumb down my cheek. The contact is reminiscent of an extremely different moment. “The first night here you only let a few tears escape you when you were convinced that no one could see them. Do you remember how I turned and wordlessly wiped them away?” His gesture had not been comforting then and it isn’t comforting now. He never wanted to comfort me, he wanted to assert some strange power over me. “I let those tears fall because they were because of me and I knew it was for the best.” I say nothing, letting his thumb ghost tears that will not come. “The moment I discovered you, what you could be, you became mine.” 

“I am no one’s.” The reaction is instinctual, a pride my mother instilled in me. My voice is too loud, too brash. “I am my own.” 

I brace myself for his anger, but all I receive is the slight relaxation of his lips. “It’s things like that give you so much potential in other ways.” His voice is a jagged rock caressing my skin, not minding the scrapes it leaves behind. “You’re a fair plaything, as well as useful.”  

He’s speaking so gently his voice borders on vulnerable. Something in me warms, but I can’t tell why. I know that Kirigan finds joy in my discomfort--why else would he belittle me so often? “The healer will be here soon.” 

“Yes,” he makes no move to leave, instead Kirigan grabs my wrist again, forcing me to turn so that he can analyze the extent of my burn, “Which is why I will ask you again…” I try to catch his gaze, but his stone stare is focused on my burned shoulder entirely. “Who did this?” 

“I told you.” He can never know. “It was a training accident.” 

“And someone is responsible.” 

I let out a breath, tired of feeling so incomplete. I just want to be healed and go to sleep. “Why does it matter?” His fingers trail up my arm patiently, my body betrays me by shivering. “Accidents happen, you’ve put me in more risk than--” 

“I’ve always intended to break you one way or another,” his voice is more supple than it’s ever been before, “Your goodness is too tempting to not tarnish.” He turns my wrist over easily, ignoring my slight wince. “But if someone else were to do it…” Kirigan trails off, expression tightening in a way I can’t read, “I don’t let others break my play things.” 

Some strange resolve in my chest cracks at that. “Kirigan--” 

“Who are you protecting?” He moves his free hand, placing it without reservation on my shoulder. “Not telling me will only make it worse.” 

Thoughts of Arthur paying for such a small mistake leaves my stomach rolling in guilt. “Make what worse?” 

His expression tightens again. I wait for some kind of rebuke. Kirigan’s lips part as if he expects to criticize my naivety, but instead of speaking he turns sharply. He doesn't release his grip on my wrist as he leads me into my bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” 

Kirigan ignores my surprise, releasing me to pick up the towel I was so quick to abandon. “If you’re too good to take a healer from someone, you should at least avoid infection.” 

“I’m not an idiot, I was cleaning it.” The sharpness of my tone is ignored, Kirigan simply places one hand on my forearm to keep me in place. “Wha--”

 He brushes his thumb over my pulse gently in an effective attempt to silence me. I part my lips in hopes of protesting, but something odd reflects across his eyes. It must be some trick of the light because his expression seems...hesitant. Maybe even concerned. And then cool fabric is pressed into my burn. I bite my tongue so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed. 

“Saints.” 

His expression shifts to that of almost amusement. “I think I’d like to hear you curse in a,” he exhales softly, fingertips trailing up my forearm, “Slightly different scenario.” 

The shock of such a bold innuendo clears my mind from thoughts of pain. But the most startling thing is that the innuendo isn’t entirely unwanted. In the wake of my surprise, he presses the wet towel into my wound again. I fight against a grimace, but that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirigan. Instead of mentioning it, his free arm touches my uninjured shoulder. For the first time since he’s come here I’m aware of how improper my attire is. I changed out of my starched kefta and into a silk nightgown in order to leave my shoulder unbothered. Genya had helped me change, bearing all of my grimacing and pained curses. 

I should push him off of me. Kirigan can get away with a lot because of his status, but I by no means have to allow something like this. I should not feel shy, I should not be embarrassed. He’s the one that’s out of line. I look up into his eyes, prepared to yell at him for being so out of line. But when I meet his eyes, I see something so un-monstrous I am left breathless. There’s a gentleness to the way he tilts his head downwards, eyes never leaving mine. Is he asking for permission? Permission to--to what? I stay frozen as his lips brush against the unmarred side of my collarbone. His touch is almost enough to make me forget pain ever existed. He pulls away enough that I can feel his breath against the base of my neck. Thoughts I’d never dare speak are banished as the towel presses against my skin again. My face cringes immediately, but he’s quick to press his lips to the base of my neck, lingering kisses melting into my skin. 

“I thought you said you were fine.” His chiding is half-hearted, whispered between two brief kisses against my bare ski. 

He dabs the towel on the burn again, but before I can think to complain, his lips are against my skin again. This time, his lips part slightly allowing his teeth to graze over my pulse. Kirigan pulls away slightly, expression hardening, “I’m almost sorry about this part.” His words leave him in a whisper as influential as sin. 

“What part?” My voice feels foreign in my throat. 

Kirigan doesn’t reply, but then I feel the sharpest pain yet. The towel is cleaning the worst of the burn, the ruined patch of skin that will never recover without supernatural intervention. The gasp I let out is that of a bird with shattered wings. A cry forms in the base of my throat, but before it can leave me, Kirigan’s teeth bite into the skin above my pulse. The pained sound is reduced by my shock, twisting in an odd combination of some kind of pained sound and something dangerously close to a moan. 

He releases me with one last soft brush of his lips, straightening his back and retracting the towel. “There.” Kirigan drops the towel onto the bathroom counter. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

I can still feel the ghost of his lips, tongue, and teeth against my skin. I understand now. Each kiss had been a way to distract me, to lessen the pain. Something odd swells in my chest as I try to will my eyes to stop watering in pain. 

Kirigan presses his lips together, pressing his hand against my cheek again. His thumb brushes the few stray tears that escape me. “Don’t cry,” his tone is pure velvet, “I won’t tolerate tears in your eyes caused by anyone else.” He tilts his head oddly, hand sliding down my cheek before gripping my jaw, “I can provide reason for your tears if you’d like.” 

Inhaling deeply, I continue to stare at him. Today has been so sudden. He’s flirted with me through strangely sexual insults and threats before, but never has he been so forward about it. 

“I’m fine,” I force my voice to remain clear. He nods once. A soft rap at my door has me turning away from him. “The healer--I shoul--” 

“Come in,” he calls, voice clear and leaving no room for argument. 

My eyes widen. To be caught with him here could be detrimental for my reputation. Kirigan pulls away, something sharp playing at his features, something almost humorous. 

He leaves the bathroom like this is his own room. “Her wound is clean, work quickly.” I walk out of the bathroom in a strange trance. Kirigan’s gaze lands on me as I enter the main part of my room, “I need her at her full strength for what I have planned.” 

There’s a heaviness to his words, a weight that tells me he means more than what his words imply. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as I try to banish the thoughts of his mouth against my skin between inflictions of pain, blending together to create the most intense sense of fight or flight I’ve ever experienced. 

Kirigan begins to approach the door to my room. “I’ll be checking on her later.”

--

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