#i mean the reason is my body hurts more than usual

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

tainted love

pairing: javier peña x steve murphy

cws/tags: only one bed, when you gotta jerk off ur partner bc he can't sleep but it's just a platonic thing dw #totallynotgay, use of f-slur, frottage, watching porn together briefly, mutual masturbation, technically infidelity ig but what connie doesn't know can't hurt her

summary: steve can't sleep and he's keeping javi up, so they have to jerk off ???

a/n: homosexual activities return to my blog

thank you to @almostempty for your help w this ! i could not have done this w/o you

wc: 3k

It’s not the first time Javi’s ended up with Steve’s name on his lips and his own hand wrapped around his cock. It’s not an everyday occurrence – Javi has tons of masturbation-worthy images in his collection of sacred memories. He’s got dalliances with hookers, something more and simultaneously less with that one communist girl, even Lorraine, back when she was something other than a blurry, ever-present mistake in his periphery. But, these thoughts are finite. In desperation, he’ll search for more. 

Sometimes more is his partner, partner in work, not in sex, not really, not yet. It comes down to the way Steve looks when he’s pissed off, the way anger forces him into physical contact despite the fact that he’s not a touchy-feely guy. It’s the time he had Javi pressed up against the wall in the hallway of the DEA office in Medellin – it felt like deja vu, he’d seen that moment on an x-rated videotape that no one would ever know he rented. Fuck government secrets, it’d take a harsh interrogation to get Javi to reveal the fact that he watched gay porn by his own volition. More than once. 

It’s a sleepless night like any other except Javi’s not in his own bed or anyone else’s, he’s in a hotel room he’s sharing with Murphy. It’s not the worst thing that could’ve happened – he could’ve gotten stuck with Stechner, but Messina decided to pair up with him for a reason Javi doesn’t want to hear about. 

There’s alcohol somewhere, but not in his overnight bag – maybe in the minibar, but that’s on the far side of the room and whether it comes out of his pocket or not, the prices make him feel sicker than a hangover would.  

Though he and Steve are facing away from each other, he can tell that he’s not sleeping either. It needles at him in the dark. Steve’s wakefulness bleeding onto Javi’s side of the bed, his body heat threatening to burn through the ever present wall of masculinity that keeps him at a distance. 

Murphy tosses and turns to the point where Javi wonders if he’s doing it for attention – he’s doing a great job if so. Javi rolls over to tell him to cool it. 

“Would you cut that shit out?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Neither can I. Because of you.”

Steve shrugs as best one can in his position. 

“What do you want? A bedtime story?”

“Might be kinda nice.”

“Alright,” Javi says, like he’s really committed to the idea. “One night, there was a DEA agent who killed his partner–”

“Okay. I get it.”

“How the fuck does Connie sleep in the same bed as you?”

“I guess I don’t really toss and turn when I’m with her.” He pauses.

“She usually holds me – or I hold her. Not like a baby or anything, but you know…”

“You need to be cuddled to sleep? Seriously?”

He really seems to think about it. “No.”

“‘Cause the only way I’m holding you is in a headlock.”

“How do women sleep with you, huh? You’re wide awake and pissy about it.”

“When I said women sleep with me, I didn’t mean it literally.”

“So, you kick ‘em out of bed? Sounds about right,” Murphy says it with a smirk, like he’s gotten one over on Javi, but he hasn’t. 

“No, they know to leave. Or, I do. It’s bedroom etiquette. You wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’ve got something better – a wife. She sleeps with me for free.”

“God knows why.”

“She loves me. I’m loveable, Javi.”

That one strikes a nerve, but Javi doesn’t dare let it show.

“Maybe by her standards.”

“You saying she has low standards?”

“She could do better. She’s a very nice woman.”

“What does that mean?”

“Relax, man. I’m not trying to fuck your wife. I’m not that much of a scumbag.”

“Good. Not that I think she’d be into you anyway.”

“Plus, I can get laid without traveling to Miami.”

Steve huffs. It was a low blow, Javi’s willing to admit that.

“Okay, listen. We gotta be up in the morning, so let’s get practical here. You with me, Murphy?”

“Aye aye, cap,” he says with the least enthusiasm. 

“So, she’s been gone for a while, and I don’t see you coming to work looking like complete shit – at least, not any worse than you used to — so how are you getting to sleep?”

“I mean, I usually, you know…”

When Javi gestures to say go on, though he’s pretty sure he knows, Steve says much quieter, “Jerk off.”

“Was it that hard to say it?”

“I mean, it’s a little awkward.”

“What are you? 12? Everyone jerks off.”

“So, what? You want me to just jerk off?”

“Not here,” he says incredulously at the notion despite the fact that it does excite him. “In the shower if you have to.”

“I don’t usually do it in the shower.”

“You get to try something new then.”

“If I have to get up, then dry off, get dressed again, I think it’ll just start the whole process over.”

“So what? You want me to go stand outside and wait for you to finish?”

“The idea doesn’t sound unappealing…”

“No way am I doing that.”

Pissed off and admittedly aroused by the thought, he suggests, “You know what? Fuck it – put up a pillow barrier between us, and go ahead. Find something on pay-per-view so I don’t have to hear anything from you.”

“You serious?”

“If it’ll help you sleep.”

They fight over pillows and that’s only half the battle.

“Do you think they’ll know we’re buying–”

“Yes, so get something normal, will you? I don’t want anything weird showing up on the bill.”

“Relax. What’d you think I was gonna pick?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really think about your porn habits.”

“Well, what do you like?”

“What?”

“What do you like, Javi? We should find something we agree on.”

“So, now I’m a part of this?”

“I was trying to be nice.”

Javi stays silent while Steve rattles off possibilities. “We’ve got lesbians, mature women, threesomes…”

Javi gives him an unenthusiastic ‘sure’ to each option. 

“Oh, here’s the gay section,” Murphy says with a laugh.

And to avoid an awkward silence, Javi jokes - or tries to, “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

And Steve’s head turns around faster than you’d think was possible. “Oh, so you’ve tried it?”

“I was making a joke.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Why do you even care? Just stop stalling and pick something.”

Though he’s clearly still considering prying, he settles on whatever the most basic shit is – some blonde girl getting railed by some dude with a cock big enough to distract from his lackluster face. 

It’s about a minute of fake moaning that somehow makes things worse before Steve asks, “Do you think if we change the channel, they won’t charge us since we barely watched it?”

“Might as well try. Turn on PBS or something. That shit’s always free.”

It’s free but it’s a science documentary. Slimy jellyfish and the old men who know a concerning amount about them flood the screen. 

“Just turn off the TV,” Javi says, unable to hide his disgust.

Murphy spits into his hand, takes his cock out, and Javi is listening intently to it all. It makes him uncomfortably hard. He won’t sleep if he doesn’t get off, and at this point there’s no real shame in it. 

They breathe in tandem, each strangled sound egging the other one on, until Steve dares to ask, “So, you said you’ve watched gay porn before?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you didn’t say you haven’t.”

“Fine. Yes, I have. Can we go back to not talking right now?”

“But I’m curious.”

“Keep your curiosity to yourself.”

“Have you ever done anything with a guy?”

“Why? Do you want me to tell you a story about me getting a handjob from some guy outside a bar when I was hammered? You really wanna get off to that?”

“Maybe. If you can jazz it up a little.”

“I barely even remember it.”

That’s not entirely true. 

Sure, the memory’s faded a little over time, but he wasn’t blackout drunk like he wants Steve to believe. He was young, and a little bit desperate due to a recent breakup. It was hard to put on a face that said ‘I’m approachable and you’d have a good time if I took you home,” so the only attention he got that night was from a guy only a bit older than him, he’d guess. It was the kind of thing where he should’ve known it wasn’t friendly banter from the beginning, and maybe he did – he just didn’t want to believe that he was letting this happen, that he was engaging in it, that he was enjoying it. 

It got a little touchy-feely in a way real Texan men aren’t supposed to, unless they’re faggots. The word rings in Javi’s ear, and it’s the only thing louder than Murphy’s heavy breathing, which is far closer in time and space. 

The guy – whose name he’ll likely never know – led him outside and whatever ‘it’ was went down in an alley.

“Did you like it?”

“I liked it enough.”

Enough to cum from a handjob alone, and enough to try to give one back, and the only reason he didn’t really get to was because his hands shook, and it was summertime. 

‘You’re not used to this are you?’.

‘No, I’ve never…’

‘It’s okay,’ he said, removing Javi’s hand, gingerly, almost apologetic.

The goodbye kiss was anything but – it was tongue and teeth, indulgent. You could say it was self-indulgent on the other guys’ part, but you’d be wrong. It felt like it lasted longer than the handjob, and maybe it did, but god, that’d be too embarrassing to admit even in his own mind. It was the kind of kiss that dared Javi’s cock to spring back to life and he fought it desperately. 

‘See you around.’

But the pair never did. Javi convinced himself it never happened and during drinking games or friendly teasing he insisted that he’d never touched another man, just like every other friend of his. 

So, why would he tell Steve?

Before Murphy can ask another goddamn question, he turns it on the fucker, “Why don’t you tell me about your sex life?”

“I mean, besides Connie, there hasn’t been anyone since I was, fuck, I don’t know…”

“Is Connie any good?”

“Of course she’s good.”

Javi waits for the ‘but’ with a raised eyebrow, and it comes. 

“It just gets boring, alright? I love her, though.”

And Javi knows he does. He knows he does because Murphy can’t sleep without her in bed beside him. 

It doesn’t miss Javi that Steve’s breath falters more when Javi’s name leaves his mouth. 

“Javi…” He’s been stroking himself the entire time, but he’s not close, it’s not a plea to cum. It’s a hesitant question. 

“Yes, Murphy?”

“Why do you always call me by my last name?”

“I don’t know, Steve.”

It’s just to get a reaction out of him, which it does, subtle enough that another person might not catch on, but Javi’s waiting for it. 

And the reason is probably somewhere between the fact that he calls everyone by last name - and, come to think of it, it’s actually kinda weird that Murphy calls him by his first name - and because he feels like exchanging first names equals real friendship and somehow, that’s too intimate for Javi.

“Is that better?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Steve…”

“Yeah?”

“You want this, right?”

“If you do.”

“You gotta tell me. ‘Cause I’m not doing anything if you’re not into it.”

The distance between them dissipates. It doesn’t matter who closes the gap – if one didn’t, the other would. 

Javi looks back and forth between Steve’s cock and his mouth and tries to decide what’s right. Because he wants both, he has to find another metric to measure, to make his choices for him. 

Dive right in and take Steve’s cock in his hand to avoid the intimacy that locking lips requires? Kiss him to quiet everything including his own mind? 

He’s dumbfounded for a moment and you’d think he’s the one who’s never touched a man before if you didn’t know any better. The thing is: Javi can jerk another man off, even give a likely mediocre drunken blowjob. The difference is, this is Steve, naked in bed beside him. The difference is, he’s thought about this. The decision to do this shouldn’t be this easy when he’s sober. But his inhibitions are dangerously low because he’s dreamed about this. 

He’s played out fantasies before that he knows wouldn’t - shouldn’t – become reality. There are countless reasons not to do this - Steve is married, this could ruin both of their careers, this could compromise the most important case in DEA history. 

There is only one reason this should happen: desire.

Javi leads with his heart not his head (admittedly, his dick has influenced this specific decision to a significant degree).

His contemplation is cut off by Murphy’s lips pressed to his. The kiss is hesitant only until Javi reciprocates. Then it leans more towards animalistic than sweet but it’s needier than anything. Between the two of them desperation has only ever led to tension that boils over into fighting, but somehow insomnia is all it took to get them here. 

His brain has one thought playing on loop - the simple fact that he is actively kissing Steve Murphy. Until his mind is free of thoughts. Sex usually works like that for him, particularly with women ‘cause he doesn’t have to worry about the persistent guilt and fear of getting caught in the back of his mind, but his stress rarely fades at just kissing. Maybe they’re not just kissing. It feels like something more. Javi can’t think, but he sure as hell can feel, and he’ll feel this for days, weeks, months, maybe years if he’s really unlucky and there’s no feeling strong enough to replace this one.

The pillows that stood between them are now strewn across the floor as are the pretences. This isn’t one coworker tolerating another’s nighttime routine – at the very least, this is a friend helping a friend in a time of need. But that sounds too innocuous – too generous, even sacrificial. What they’re doing is fumbling around in the dark (even though Javi aches to turn on the lamp, to see, to savor) trying to find out how to get this over with the quickest, what will make the other cum first while learning how to drag this out, how to tease, how to get the other to the edge and no further. How to do this together. 

It starts with the kiss, with Javi lazily stroking his own cock until he dares to place his hand on Steve’s inner thigh. It’s a hesitant question and a final warning, and in response Steve’s breath hitches. They lock eyes for a moment before Javi removes Steve’s hand from his cock and replaces it with his own. There is no protest, only a low groan before he takes Javi’s cock in his hand with a firm grip that makes it feel more like retaliation than returned favor. It also feels way too fucking good. Javi takes it as an invitation for competition, his right hand is more dedicated and focused, moving faster while his left grabs Steve’s jaw and brings him into a kiss fueled by a passion that feels closer to rage than love. 

Javi takes Steve’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugs on it slightly, as if a gentle pull in the right direction would bring Steve into Javi’s lap. It elicits a startled jump in his ragged breath - and they were long overdue to pull back for a breath - Javi takes the opportune moment to tell Steve to come closer in a voice that one uses to discipline an unruly soldier. 

Javi has to maintain a certain amount of control through aggression lest he let the mask slip and reveal his own nervousness, his curiosity, how little he really knows about how this is supposed to go, and how much he wants to press Steve flat on the mattress and take this slow. 

He finds himself moving hastily to shift himself and his partner - now in work and in sex - into a position where he can jerk them both off simultaneously, cocks loosely held together in his fist. Javi’s thrusts lead and Steve’s follow. 

Neither of them last very long. 

There’s a collective initial sigh of physical relief and a subsequent realization of what had just occurred between the two of them. 

What is he supposed to say? ‘Thanks’? ‘Sleep tight’? Is he supposed to say anything at all?

Murphy gets out of bed disturbing the relative peace in the air. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Javi asks.

“Shower,” Murphy says, leaning in the doorway of the bathroom. “Ever heard of one?”

“Thought you didn’t wanna take a shower ‘cause it would make it harder to sleep.”

And that’s how we ended up here. 

“I’m not going to bed like this,” he says, gesturing to the mess he and Javi had both left on his stomach. 

“I don’t wanna go to bed like this either, but it’s four in the goddamn morning.” They’re back to whisper yelling and somehow it feels nice to have that sense of normalcy. 

Murphy stands there waiting for a better argument, but instead he gets Javi storming out of bed straight towards him and dragging him into the shower. 

It’s not romantic, not in the slightest - they argue over the water temperature and who’s taking up too much room. They don’t wash each other’s hair or look at each other with stars in their eyes. But, they leave their clothes on the floor and slip into bed naked, not holding each other, but not wincing when their shoulders touch. 

“Did that really happen last night?” Murphy asks with a yawn, forcing Javi to confront reality after he’s pressed snooze more than once. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “You tell me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think so.” He sounds more confident with every word. 

“Okay. Then, I think so too.” 

[aliosne]

Local man witnessed today feeling exceptionally grumpy. When asked for comment, they said, “no, not for any good goddamn reason,” adding, “everything is poo and I want to go back to bed.”

[deoidesign]

A general cane guide for writers and artists (from a cane user, writer, and artist!)

Disclaimer: Though I have been using a cane for 6 years, I am not a doctor, nor am I by any means an expert. This guide is true to my experience, but there are as many ways to use a cane as there are cane users!

This guide will not include: White canes for blindness, crutches, walkers, or wheelchairs as I have no personal experience with these.

This is meant to be a general guide to get you started and avoid some common mishaps/misconceptions in your writing, but you absolutely should continue to do your own research outside of this guide!

This is NOT a medical resource!!! And never tell a real person you think they're using a cane wrong!

The biggest recurring problem I've seen is using the cane on the wrong side. The cane goes on the opposite side of the pain! If your character has even-sided pain or needs it for balance/weakness, then use the cane in the non-dominant hand to keep the dominant hand free. Some cane users also switch sides to give their arm a rest!

A cane takes about 20% of your weight off the opposite leg. It should fit within your natural gait and become something of an extension of your body. If you need more weight off than 20%, then crutches, a walker, or a wheelchair is needed.

Putting more pressure on the cane, using it on the wrong side, or having it at the wrong height can make it less effective, and can cause long term damage to your body from improper pressure and posture. (Hugh Laurie genuinely hurt his body from years of using a cane wrong on House!)

(some people elect to use a cane wrong for their personal situation despite this, everyone is different!)

(an animated GIF of a cane matching the natural walking gait. It turns red when pressure is placed on it.)

When going up and down stairs, there is an ideal standard: You want to use the handrail and the cane at the same time, or prioritize the handrail if it's only on one side. When going up stairs you lead with your good leg and follow with the cane and hurt leg together. When going down stairs you lead with the cane and the bad leg and follow with the good leg!

Realistically though, many people don't move out of the way for cane users to access the railing, many stairs don't have railings, and many are wet, rusty, or generally not ideal to grip.

In these cases, if you have a friend nearby, holding on to them is a good idea. Or, take it one step at a time carefully if you're alone.

Now we come to a very common mistake I see... Using fashion canes for medical use!

(These are 4 broad shapes, but there is INCREDIBLE variation in cane handles. Research heavily what will be best for your character's specific needs!)

The handle is the contact point for all the weight you're putting on your cane, and that pressure is being put onto your hand, wrist, and shoulder. So the shape is very important for long term use!

Knob handles (and very decorative handles) are not used for medical use for this reason. It adds extra stress to the body and can damage your hand to put constant pressure onto these painful shapes.

The weight of a cane is also incredibly important, as a heavier cane will cause wear on your body much faster. When you're using it all day, it gets heavy fast! If your character struggles with weakness, then they won't want a heavy cane if they can help it!

This is also part of why sword canes aren't usually very viable for medical use (along with them usually being knob handles) is that swords are extra weight!

However, a small knife or perhaps a retractable blade hidden within the base might be viable even for weak characters.

Bases have a lot of variability as well, and the modern standard is generally adjustable bases. Adjustable canes are very handy if your character regularly changes shoe height, for instance (gotta keep the height at your hip!)

Canes help on most terrain with their standard base and structure. But for some terrain, you might want a different base, or to forego the cane entirely! This article covers it pretty well.

Many cane users decorate their canes! Stickers are incredibly common, and painting canes is relatively common as well! You'll also see people replacing the standard wrist strap with a personalized one, or even adding a small charm to the ring the strap connects to. (nothing too large, or it gets annoying as the cane is swinging around everywhere)

(my canes, for reference)

If your character uses a cane full time, then they might also have multiple canes that look different aesthetically to match their outfits!

When it comes to practical things outside of the cane, you reasonably only have one hand available while it's being used. Many people will hook their cane onto their arm or let it dangle on the strap (if they have one) while using their cane arm, but it's often significantly less convenient than 2 hands. But, if you need 2 hands, then it's either setting the cane down or letting it hang!

For this reason, optimizing one handed use is ideal! Keeping bags/items on the side of your free hand helps keep your items accessible.

When sitting, the cane either leans against a wall or table, goes under the chair, or hooks onto the back of the chair. (It often falls when hanging off of a chair, in my experience)

When getting up, the user will either use their cane to help them balance/support as they stand, or get up and then grab their cane. This depends on what it's being used for (balance vs pain when walking, for instance!)

That's everything I can think of for now. Thank you for reading my long-but-absolutely-not-comprehensive list of things to keep in mind when writing or drawing a cane user!

Happy disability pride month! Go forth and make more characters use canes!!!

[cutetanuki-chan]

sometimes I see people being confused where alectostasia ship came from so here's a little bit of run down

I'm not really good with words so it might be clunky

what we know from the text

Anastasia tries to achieve 'perfect lyctorhood', something goes wrong during her ascension, John kills Samael, Anastasia fails her attempt

Anastasia moves to the ninth, continues working on the house or only founding it at that time

John asks Anastasia to help build the tomb 'I built that tomb with Anastasia, designed every inch of it.'

somewhere between working on it and Alecto's entombment, Alecto and Anastasia make a vow where Alecto basically swears as a cavalier to her 'Alecto said, I remember my vows. As I swore to Anastasia I swear to you. I am in your service until you bid me the favour, and whatsoever you appoint I shall perform, and consider the vow rendered. This is what I promised, until such a time as you deal with me as you see fit.'

as John leading Alecto to the tomb, she asks to see Anastasia 'She had said, There are almost no beautiful things left. Where is Anastasia? Let me talk to Anastasia.'

presumable Anastasia is the one to inflict to the ninth house importance of keeping her bloodline and worshiping of the tomb through all of those years

Anastasia's bones are in the tomb 'She looked back beyond, and she saw Anastasia, tucked where nobody would find her: Anastasia, all bones. Not really Anastasia. But Anastasia’s body without the meat on it, snuggled right into the curve of the rock, ready to close the door whenever it was opened. She remembered Anastasia.'

Alecto immediately getting chill after tasting Harrow's blood 'The child was silent; but her blood was on Alecto’s lips, and through that blood Alecto was made to understand what it was, and was astonished exceedingly. Alecto put away wrath and said: Thou art the blood of the tomb-keeper.'

Alecto saying sorry for Samael

the implications

the vow on itself is very interesting, at first we all know how usually normal cavalier and necromancer relationships are. then for Alecto to comply to that, indicates she should be pretty trusting of Anastasia, and their relationships at least somehow better than with other lyctors who were terrified of her

then there's also the tombkeeper blood thing, what serves as a check note for Alecto after waking up, and means the initial purpose of the ninth house was actually waiting for rock to roll away

and one part of the vow seems to imply 'if anyone beside a tombkeeper wake you, slay them as they came to hurt you', as could hinted on a protection from other lyctors who wanted to kill Alecto? (Then Alecto remembered the vow, and turned back upon the altar to face the second child and raised the sword with wrath in her heart, for they meant to bring destruction upon her.)

then the matter of Anastasia's bones laying in the tomb next to the rock. not sure if it's just her skeleton or she made herself a some construct mechanism from her bones. and not clear if she got entombed on her own volition or John closed them both there, but being entombed together five feet apart cause we are not gay

there's also some oddness in Alecto immediately after waking saying she's sorry for Samael, but I won't go into that here, anyway Anastasia was trying to find a better way to lyctorhood and I think in her more close relationships with Alecto she figured out something that John wasn't telling them, before or after her ascension

and some theories

I think I first heard this theory from @/mayasaura, that ninth house tradition of telling secrets while submerged in the salt water could've corelate with Anastasia trying to have a talk like that with Alecto since she feels the most at ease in the salt water, so means pool time for alectostasia too

another one that I really like but not sure how much legs it actually would have in canon, one of the reasons Nona was so enamored with her body cause Harrow is a spitting image of Anastasia, first saw @/corvophobia talking about it

coming back to Harrow, could there be anything more to her taking immediate affection to the Body a la some fuckery with Anastasia's spirt/tombkeeper's blood

more people explained it better, I try to reblog most of the theories in my side blog, you can check it out there but some of it explicit just in case

anyway in conclusion, as I keep procrastinating with my work, I don't think they were making out 24/7 in Canaan house in canon but something for sure happened there between them

[milkb0nny]

Don't Leave...

... kissing as an act of desperation

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader

Summary: You were unconscious after a demon attack, and the brothers worried terribly about you. Dean, so scared to lose you, confessed his love through a passionate kiss, hoping you'd wake up.

Note: Another kissing prompt, this one being a little darker. But my, I love this so much!

Content: reader not knowing Dean‘s love for her, Dean being anxious, comfort, angst, injuries, first kiss

Word count: ~1,4k

Unconscious and still, as if you were a corpse, you lay in the motel bed. Your limbs were close to your body, your body wrapped in the thick blanket, a heating pad close to your feet.

What had happened? Why were you in this state of emergency? Why weren’t you as lively as you usually were? All those questions remained unanswered to you, as you slept deeply, your breath slow and steady.

You had been traveling with the Winchester brothers for quite some time. Not that you actively participated in the hunts and dangerous activities; you were an excellent person with perfect social skills. You had developed into the person of the group who would speak with others to gather clues. You could read people as if they were an open book, making them spill out whatever their memories had hidden away.

Though, why were you in this state then? As your consciousness recovered, you heard voices in the background. You couldn’t focus on them at first, as your head hurt. A defeating ache circled from your forehead to your neck, making your mere presence terribly painful. You couldn’t open your eyes… everything felt like you were in a fever dream.

But then you were able to piece the mumbles into clear words, and the voices belonged to Sam and Dean. The dim light of the motel room flickered softly as Dean and Sam sat at the small table, the tension heavy in the air. The door to the bathroom was cracked open, and the faint sound of water running could be heard in the background.

Dean's eyes never left you, his hands tightly gripping the edge of the table.

Sam sat across from Dean, his voice calm but concerned, "Dean, we’ve been over this. She’s strong. She’s gonna be fine. You just need to give her time."

"Time? She could’ve died, Sam. You didn’t see the way she looked at me... like she was already slipping away." He paused, running a hand through his hair, his voice dropping lower. "I could’ve lost her. I almost did."

Why was Dean speaking so softly about you? Did he truly care so much about you?

"You’re not gonna lose her, Dean. She’s one of the toughest people I know. Sure, she can’t fight, but her mind is stronger than ours. She’ll make it."

"It’s not about being tough, Sam. She’s… she’s everything. I can’t lose her. I can’t. She means more to me than…" His voice caught, and he paused, trying to keep it together. "I don’t know what I’d do without her."

What did he say? Was this a dream?

Sam looked at his brother, his expression softer. He knew Dean’s soft spot... You. "You’re not gonna have to do that. You just need to give her time to heal. She’s not gone. She’s right there." He nodded toward the bed, where you acted as if you weren’t mentally available. You wanted to know more, but your body was too weak to move in any way.

Dean’s eyes flickered to you, his expression darkening. "I know. But what if she doesn’t wake up? What if…" He trailed off, his voice barely a whisper, raw with emotion.

He was at his lowest.

"What if I wasn’t fast enough? What if I couldn’t protect her like I should have?"

"Dean, you can’t blame yourself. You did everything you could. We all did. It’s the job. It’s dangerous. You know that. We couldn’t predict that demon breaking in somehow and doing that to her. But you also know she’s not the type to give up without a fight."

Dean nodded and softly agreed. "She fights. She always fights." His throat tightened, and he cleared it. "I don’t want to be the reason she has to keep fighting. I want to be the one who keeps her safe. I want to be the one who makes sure she doesn’t get hurt." He exhaled sharply, his voice barely audible. "I don’t know if I can live with myself if I fail her. She’s become family. More than that."

Sam sighed, looking at you, so peacefully lying there. "I know, man. But you’ve gotta stop torturing yourself. She’s gonna wake up, and when she does, you’re gonna be the first thing she needs. She’s not gonna want you beating yourself up."

There was a long silence between them, the weight of Dean’s worry thick in the air. Your heart was racing. Hearing all those words coming from Dean was like being struck, like you’d fallen victim to Cupid’s arrow. However, it felt illegal listening to them, especially since they didn’t know you heard everything.

Sam stood up, his voice gentle. "She’s not gone, Dean. She’s right here. And when she wakes up, you’ll be right here for her. Just like always. I’ll get some more painkillers and dinner for us. Call me when she wakes up."

Dean didn’t respond at first, his eyes glued to you. He was still struggling, the fear of losing you overwhelming his every thought. But Sam’s words seemed to sink in, just enough to make him take a breath. Dean stood up slowly, moving toward the bed, his gaze softening as he kneeled beside you.

Quietly, Sam disengaged from the motel room, driving off in the Impala.

Dean was so close to you, his smell embedding you in a dream. Your body felt so warm, as if you were burning from the inside.

Dean whispered, almost to himself, "Come on, sweetheart. Wake up. I need you. I need you to be okay."

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his thumb gently tracing over your skin. His voice trembled, but he kept it steady.

"I can’t do this without you."

The room fell silent once more, with only the sound of your steady breaths filling the space.

Dean looked down at you, his gaze soft but filled with a sharp kind of pain. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin, and before you could register what was happening, his lips were pressed against your very own.

The kiss was brief but laden with everything he was feeling: the fear, the relief, the need to feel your warmth against him. It was a kiss that trembled with the desperation of someone who had almost lost you.

He needed you, and silently confessing to you was his sort of comfort. He needed to feel your warmth in some way, to prove you weren’t vanishing from his life.

But then, as if unable to help himself, he leaned in further, his lips brushing softly over yours, tasting the sweetness of you, desperate for a connection. You could feel the heat of his kiss, but you couldn’t respond… not yet. You were too far gone in the haze of unconsciousness, barely aware of the world around you.

Suddenly, you felt a hot tear drop onto your face, one that didn’t belong to you, but to the man who was craving your life.

"Don’t do that to me. Please don’t leave me."

His words broke through the fog in your mind, and though you were still too weak to move, there was a stirring inside you… a pull, a recognition of what was happening. Dean kissed you again, this time deeper, slower, as if trying to pour all of his emotions into the kiss.

Oh, how he missed you already. His hands slid around your neck, cupping your face as he poured his fear, his regret, his love into you.

Your eyes fluttered beneath your eyelids, the sensation of Dean’s lips lingering. You tried to open your eyes, but it was hard; everything was still a blur.

Dean pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath ragged and uneven.

"God, I need you to wake up. Please."

You finally managed to open your eyes, the world coming into focus just enough for you to see the look of sheer desperation on his face. His green eyes were wide.

Dean froze, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at you, his lips parting in disbelief. For a moment, time seemed to stop… his expression softening, the tension melting away as he processed the fact that you were still with him.

"You’re… you’re awake."

You nodded slowly, trying to smile despite the pain in your body. But Dean didn’t smile back right away. Instead, he pressed his lips to your forehead, his breath shaky as he whispered something to himself.

"Thank god…"

Your heart clenched at his words, and you reached up, placing your hand over his. The simple touch seemed to ground him, to remind him that you were still here, still with him. Dean looked down at you, his eyes soft, yet still filled with so much emotion. And for a moment, there was nothing else in the world but the two of you.

Dean exhaled, a breath of relief, and this time, when he smiled at you, it was full of love, full of life, and full of the hope that you’d always be by his side.

[karolinethekindwitch]

Astrology Observations - Placements that make a person cold hearted/blooded

Disclaimer:

This astrology observational post is only made for the purpose of using my wisdom of astrology and making observations using the knowledge of astrology. Don’t take this personally or to heart and trust your intuition.

Moon in 8th house, moon in 12th house, moon square and opposition Saturn

People with placements in the eighth house using moon in the eighth are private or secretive. They prefer having a privacy or private life not sharing too much of their life on social media or media in general. Natives with moon in the twelfth house are emotional people, however they’re good at hiding their feelings or repress them. Because the twelfth house symbolizes illusions, hallucinations, the dream and spirit realm. When you repress your feelings especially hide them you become numb. The reason why we humans feel numb because of the hurt or pain we experience in the past. The only solution to these problems is letting go or do shadow work. Instead of healing like we humans usually do letting go of what no longer serves us gives inner freedom to live our life without being in pain.

Moon square Saturn or Moon opposition Saturn. In astrology, Saturn represents death, age, rules and laws, and karmic lessons. Natives with moon square Saturn or moon opposition Saturn may have had harsh or traumatic childhoods which led to becoming who they are today because of the pain they went through. When their feelings and behaviors go unchecked and without help, they become helpless and cold-hearted. However, it’s possible to get help the solution is therapy, the letting go technique, unlike healing. Because sometimes healing isn’t always the answer healing heals with time, however, people want results that’s why people want the results more than taking a long time to get what they want. By letting go you’re giving yourself the inner freedom to not hold onto the pain and emotional baggage anymore.

Moon in Capricorn, Moon in Scorpio, Moon in Aquarius, and Moon in Virgo or Moon in Gemini

People with placements in Capricorn, Scorpio, Aquarius, Virgo or Gemini are not emotional people. However, for people with Scorpio placements they are emotional except when sharing anything private they become closed off. Because of the fear of coming out vulnerable or being seen as weak. From my research, I learned that hiding your feelings doesn’t make you strong it actually makes you weak. Because the longer you repress and hide your feelings the chances they’ll resurface. When you openly express them in healthy ways through art, singing, or writing it becomes more clearer and easy to understand. I feel that it’s possible to live your life by freeing yourself from the emotional baggage you’re carrying. Healthy ways of expressing yourself is a great way to regulate your emotions, however it won’t replace professional help and therapy. You need help from professional to get the therapy you need.

Aquarius, Capricorn and Scorpio stellium

Stellium’s in astrology is when there’s 3 or more celestial bodies in one zodiac sign. For instance, moon, mercury, Venus, and mars on the eighth house in Aquarius. This means the person who have their stellium in Aquarius in the eighth house of secrecy and transformation ruled by Scorpio, Mars, and Pluto. Natives with stellium in Aquarius on the eighth house may appear cold hearted because they are private with not only themselves, yet their lives they don’t share too much of their life on social media especially media in general. They rather live a private life than a life where they share their life publicly.

Before I forget, currently in 2024 until 2044 Pluto will be in Aquarius until 2044 actually. To remind you all, take caution of sharing too much of your life on social media and media in general, when you over share your life on social media it’s a target for crime, harassment, bullying and other problems. Save yourself the trouble and stay safe. Because remember we are in the age of Aquarius and it’s associated with technology. The technology today is completely different from the past because technology in the ancient world were far more advanced than today.

Chiron in Scorpio, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Gemini.

People with these placements are rather private when sharing their feelings than their personal information. As humans we’re emotional creatures by nature, however we humans neglect them and turn to the dark side and shut everyone out some call them dark empaths the opposite of what an empath is actually. These types of people are private with their feelings because to be brutally honest no one understands better than ourselves. Because our souls speaks the truth when our soul is hurt or in pain we shut people out, and numb our feelings unless with proper and professional treatment from therapist.

The reason why suffering and evil exists. In my adulthood, as someone with Chiron in Scorpio on my first house I’ve learned that it’s because we humans commit bad deeds unconsciously and without awareness. I also learned something fascinating from Aaron Doughty when you learn Ho’oponopono the Hawaiian ancient technique of forgiveness the point of this technique is that you’re healing yourself from inside out because you’re clearing your aura, and forgive the people who were also hurt too. The phrases are, “I’m sorry, thank you, please forgive me, I love you” they are super powerful and it immensely helps with healing yourself and your aura.

Why am I mentioning a Hawaiian technique of forgiving? It’s because when we do something bad, evil or is suffering everything comes from the unconscious the parts of ourselves that are unaware. Remember the eyes are the windows to the soul? Our unconscious is responsible for our behaviors, deeds, and actions without awareness and with awareness we become who we are. Creation was born from source and source is the origin of consciousness. Without awareness we are just an empty void of nothingness.

That’s why self awareness, letting go and shadow work is the key to freeing yourself from the emotional baggage. And don’t forget to get help. It’s okay to heal because it’s human to feel you have the right to express yourself because it’s a part of who you are.

If you come this far thank you for reading. Stay updated for more posts from me.

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 9

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Rhys had the seething hot realisation that he had really fucked up on Winter Solstice.

Before that…well. He could still pretend.

Pretend that maybe Azriel just needed time. That he just needed…time to adjust and would get over himself eventually.

Would get over Solstice two years ago. Would get over Mor finding her mate in Emerie… Would get over it all.

That it was just him moping and licking his wounds and he would be back to normal. That maybe he just needed to punch Rhys, get it out of his system and it would be done.

So Rhys had baited him.

Repeatedly.

Azriel didn’t fight. Didn’t protest.

As a boy…Az had attacked snarling and growling, furious and vicious.

Rhys had waited for that same exact result.

Nothing of that sort had happened.

Now…Now Azriel just looked at him, eyes dark and cold…

“Why should I tell you? I may trust you with this court, Rhysand, but I do not trust you with anything I love. Not anymore.”

And then he turned and left. Not giving them a second look. 

Rhys could just stare at him. 

He had expected anger, protests, anything. But this...this was worse.

This was Azriel putting him on notice that he didn't trust Rhys at all anymore.

For a moment it was silent. 

Then Cassian broke it. 

"Give me one good reason, why I shouldn't fucking snap your neck for talking to my brother like that," Cassian seethed. "One reason."

"I didn't...think...

"You didn't think?" Cassian repeated, his voice sharp and incredulous. "Really? You didn't think that your words and actions could have a negative impact on Azriel? You just expected him to be fine after you basically told him that you don't trust him to act like an adult around Elain? That you think Elain and Mor are more important than him? You're unbelievable, Rhys."

"I did what was best for the court," Rhys protested feebly.

"Yes, a spymaster that doesn't trust his High Lord is incredibly good for our court," Cassian agreed with a sage nod, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You told him to go to a fucking pleasure hall and pay for it? You told Azriel of all people that?! What is fucking wrong with you, Rhys?!"

Rhys let out a frustrated sigh. "I was trying to make a point, Cassian," he said. "He wasn't really in love with Elain, he just liked the idea of her."

Cassian gaped at Rhys, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "That's bullshit, Rhys, and you know it," he snapped. "Azriel had feelings for Elain, real feelings. Maybe still has them. Who knows. He was ready to die, so that Lucien could live. He did that for her.  Tell me to my face again that he didn't really love her."

Rhys ran a hand over his face, his frustration clear. "I...I may have underestimated the depth of Azriel's feelings for Elain," he admitted grudgingly. "But my duty as High Lord is to protect my court first and foremost. And I really didn't want to deal with a Blood Duel. Beron was still in play then, before Eris got rid of him. If he got wind..."

"I understand your duties, Rhys," Cassian said, his voice gentler now. "But you went too far this time. You crossed a line, and Azriel feels betrayed and hurt. You dismissed his feelings as if they didn't matter, and that's not right. He's not just your spymaster or soldier, he's your brother."

He was. Which was exactly why Rhys didn't want him anywhere near that particular powder keg at that time. And then Elain had already chosen her mate, and Rhys thought with that...it was done.

"He's just being stubborn. He'll get over himself eventually," Rhys said. Right?

That's how far he got, before Cassian punched him straight into the nose.

Rhys stumbled back, clutching his nose. "What the hell, Cassian?" he demanded, his voice muffled by the blood gushing from his nose.

Cassian stared at him, his expression unreadable. "You are really, really stupid, Rhys. Idiotic. Azriel’s not being stubborn, he's heartbroken. Hurt. Betrayed. And you treat his feelings as if they are nothing!"

Rhys winced, his eyes watering from the pain and the accusation in Cassian's words. "I...I just wanted to protect him. I thought it was for the best..."

Cassian barked out a sharp laugh. "You were doing more harm than good, Rhys. You can't just push someone's feelings aside because it's convenient for you. That's not how relationships work, especially not between brothers."

"And what the fuck were you thinking when you told him to behave about Mor?! Did you ever even consider to maybe try and get Mor to talk to Azriel? That maybe that would be a good solution? Make her apologise for treating him like she did treat him? Azriel had every fucking right to be hurt and angry at her. He would have had every fucking right and Mor would have needed to accept that!"

Rhys winced again. "I...I just didn't want any… arguments, Cassian. Mor and Emerie are happy now. I didn't want to dredge up old hurts and cause tensions within the court."

"So because Azriel keeps his feelings quiet and doesn't complain, you just treated him like shit. Great job, High Lord," Cassian drawled.

Rhys flinched at Cassian's words. Deep down he knew Cassian was right. He had been too focused on preserving the peace and avoiding conflict, that he had overlooked and dismissed Azriel's feelings.

"Azriel has done everyhting in his power to make everybody around him comfortable. Nobody ever does the same for him," Cassian said darkly. "I fucked up too, you know. With Mor. With not being there when I should be...but at least I never told Azriel to Behave like he is either your dog or a child." Cassian shook his head. "I have no fucking clue if you even can fix this, Rhys, even if you wanted to. He clearly doesn't trust you at all anymore."

That had just become very fucking clear. 

"I...I never meant to hurt him," Rhys said, his voice cracking. "I just...I thought I was doing what was best for him. For everyone."

"Azriel was willing to go to war for you," Cassian said sharply. "We both were. We knew that everything involving you and Feyre and Tamlin was a war waiting too happen. But we took that risk. And hwne it was time for you to take that risk for your brother, you chose your court over him, Rhys. I get it. I understand why you did it, even if I disagree...I could forgive you that. BUt you telling Azriel to go to a pleasure hall, because he doesn't know his own feelings..."

Rhys felt the weight of Cassian's words settling in his gut like a heavy stone. He had never considered that his actions could be interpreted that way. "But...you have to understand, Cassian. I have responsibilities, a duty to the Night Court and its people. I have to consider the impact every decision has."

“And in this, you were also Azriel’s brother,” Cassian cut him off. “I don’t care about your reasoning. You need to start with a fucking apology. You treated him worse than you would every other of your soldiers.” 

Rhys swallowed. 

To say that Cassian was furious…That was a fucking understatmeent. 

And even if…even if he ignored this…there was something else that…

"His mother..." he wasn't sure how to ask that question. 

"Azriel made that decision," Cassian said calmly. "He didn't want you to feel like that was in any way your fault because you sealed Velaris for 50 years.  Quite frankly...I think Azriel's mother has been searching for an excuse not to see him anymore for a very long time."

Rhys' expression fell, the weight of guilt pressing down on him even more heavily now, if that was even possible. "I...I didn't know," he said quietly. "I...I really didn't know that it had come to this between Azriel and his mother. I...I really didn't, Cassian, I swear."

"Of course you didn't. We kept it from you," Cassian said drily. "Azriel does know how to keep a secret. Which we have just seen. I had absolutely no clue that he has met his mate."

Rhys swallowed. This should...It should have been...something happy that Azriel met his mate. He should have been telling Rhys and Cassian all about it, eyes alight with excitement and not...not spit it out just to spite Rhys.

He had really messed it up this time, hadn't he? Rhys knew that he had to make things right with Azriel, even if it meant facing the hard truth about how he had failed him as a brother and a High Lord.

"Who do you think she is?" he asked weakly.

Cassian stared at him. "I don't fucking care. She can be Sellyn Drake for all I care and I'll be her very best friend as long as she treats Azriel well and makes him happy," Cassian told him tightly. "And you...You'll keep out of it."

Rhys recoiled as if he had been slapped, but he knew Cassian was righr. He had lost the right to be involved in Azriel's personal life, and it was his own fault.

"An apology is the least you owe Azriel,  Rhys. And you owe Mor the fucking truth as well. Namely that the only reason that Azriel is probably civil to her, is that you ordered him to. Actually, you owe all of us the truth."

Rhys grimaced.  He knew that he had to come clean and face the consequences of his actions, even if it meant causing more chaos and unrest within his court. "Feyre is going to kill me," he mumbled under his breaht. Cassian didn't look sorry in the slightest.

"Then you shouldn't have behaved like a fucking asshole," Cassian gave back flatly. "Let's go back to Velaris. We'll have this discussion now.”

Rhys nodded, a sense of resignation washing over him. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for the difficult conversation that was awaitng him.

"What happened to your nose?" Feyre asked as soon as he entered the River House. "Where's Az?"

"I broke it," Cassian gave back drily. "Don't worry, Rhysand deserves worse."

Rhys grimaced at the thought of having to explain the whole situation to Feyre. "Azriel...he got...upset. We had a fight. And Cassian punched me. It's...it's complicated," Rhys mumbled. 

"Correction," Cassian snapped. "You were an utter prick to Azriel, who decided that he would rather spent Winter Solstice with his mate that none of us knew existed. And I punched you, because you didn't even fucking understand what you did wrong in the first place."

Feyre's eyes widened in disbelief as she listened to Cassian's explanation. "Rhys, what is he talking about?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. "Why would Azriel get so upset?"

"Because apparently, Little Rhysie in his infinite wisdom, did not only tell Azriel and I quote "If you want to fuck somebody, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it," when he found out about Azriel's crush on Elain, but has also apparently spent the last 2 years telling my brother to "behave" like he's some kind of dog," Cassian said sarcastically. Rhys grimaced. "You should consider yourself lucky that I only broke your nose," Cassian told him darkly. "I ought to fucking throttle you for doing this to Az."

Shock and anger poured all over the mating bond and he met Feyre’s eyes with no small amount of trepidation. 

Feyre stared at him, her expression a mix of shock and disappointment. "Is that true, Rhys? Did you really say that to Azriel?"

"Feyre Darling..." he started. 

*Did you really tell Azriel "If you want to fuck somebody, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it.”?* she demanded mentally.

Rhys winced, knowing that he couldn't lie to Feyre through the bond. *I...I may have said something along those lines,* he admitted reluctantly.

Feyre narrowed her eyes at Rhys. "And the whole 'behave' thing?" she asked sharply.

Rhys looked down, unable to meet Feyre's gaze. "I...I may have used that phrase a few times," he said quietly.

"A few times?" Feyre repeated, her voice rising in anger. "How many times, Rhys? How many times did you tell Azriel to 'behave' because of his feelings for Elain?"

“It wasn’t about Elain. It was also about Mor,“ Cassian said drily.

“What?“ Mor demanded. 

Rhys winced as he realized that the truth was about to come out. 

"Mor, I-"

Mor's eyes narrowed as she took in Rhys' reaction. "Tell me, Rhysand. What did you say to Azriel about me?"

Rhys sighed heavily, knowing that he couldn't avoid this conversation anymore. "I...I may have told Azriel to 'behave' around you and Emerie. I was afraid that his feelings for you would cause tension within the court."

Mor's eyes widened in disbelief. "You told him to behave around me?” She swallowed these beautiful brown eyes lined with tears. “You…I thought…I thought he was…he was happy for us but it’s was only because you told him to behave. I let him be, I didn’t try to talk to him, because he seemed fine.”

Rhys winced at Mor's words, feeling the weight of his actions. "I thought it would be easier for everyone, Mor.”

“Easier to make him lie?” Mor asked him, her voice tight. “Easier to forbid him to express his actual feelings? I know…I didn’t behave right with him but I thought we were better. But we weren’t. He was just acting like everything was fine so you wouldn’t lay into him and punish him for misbehaving!”

Rhys felt a pang of guilt in his chest. "I...I never meant to hurt him, Mor. I thought I was doing what was best for everyone."

Mor shook her head, her eyes shimmering with tears. "You weren't doing what was best for him. You were doing what was easiest for you."

Rhys dropped his gaze, knowing that he had brought this situation upon himself. "I...I don't know how to make it right," he admitted. "I've lost his trust, and I don't know if I can ever earn it back."

Amren huffed, crossing her arms, her dark eyes glittering with annoyance. "Well, you certainly made a mess of things, Rhysand." She leaned in closer, her voice low and intense. "But you'd better find a way to fix it. And fast. Because we're not just talking about Azriel here. We're talking about the future of this court."

Rhys nodded tightly. "I know," he said quietly. 

He was very much aware what it would mean to their court if Azriel decided to leave them. The disadvantage they woul find themselves in…and this didn’t even start to cover the personal loss of losing his brother. 

“Leave him be,” Nesta said at that moment. 

Rhys turned to Nesta, his expression conflicted. "I can't just do nothing, Nesta. He's my brother,” he told his sister-in-law, but Nesta wasn’t having it, sticking out her chin. 

"And yet you treated him like some kind of attack dog who needed to be kept under control. That's not how you treat a brother, Rhys," she seethed. “I ought to stab you.”

Rhys flinched at Nesta's words, knowing that she was right. "I know," he said quietly. "I was wrong, and I need to make things right with him."

"You sure as hell better," Cassian growled. "Azriel doesn't deserve any of this bullshit."

***

To his surprise… Sky was at home.

He hadn’t thought she would be there…he thought he would be greeted by an annoyed Hector, who would be bitchy that it was him coming home and not Sky. 

But Hector was nowhere to be seen. He could hear his meowing though. 

He found his mate buried in their bed, seemingly all the blankets in the house put on top of herself…and Hector pawing at the mountain of blankets, demanding to be let in. 

"Are you hiding from the world, my love?" He asked softly, as he crawled into the bed next to her, lifting a few blankets so Hector could slither underneath them, which he did immediately. He carefully pulled the blankets away from her face and Sky looked at him, eyes red from crying. 

In the same breath he suddenly picked up the salty scent of tears. That was all he needed to pull her into his arms. 

“I thought you were having dinner with your family,” Sky whispered, her voice hoarse, burying her face against his chest. 

“Didn’t end well,” he told her drily. “Yours?”

“Didn’t end well either,” she said with a laugh that turned into a sob.

A soft sniffle. No. Not again. He couldn’t deal with her crying. He couldn’t…it ripped apart his hear to see his mate like that and he held her tighter."It's all right, love," he murmured, holding her close. "I'm here with you now. Let it all out." He gently ran his hand up and down her back, trying to soothe her.

"Tell me what's happened," he said gently, his voice filled with concern.

“I…I am a ho…horrible p…person,” Sky whimpered. 

He nearly wanted to laugh at the pure ridiculousness of that statement. Sky, the sweetest person he had ever met, a horrible person? Not possible.

"You're not a horrible person," he said firmly. "Not at all. You're the kindest, most compassionate person I've ever met."

“I…I to…told Cl…Claire th…that at le…least I…I do…don’t ha…have my si…sister’s slop…sloppy se…seconds.”

He needed a moment to parse it, her stutter worse than he had ever heard it. 

“What?” he could just ask dumbly as he blinked. Sky? Sky had said what?!

“I…I to…told Cl…Claire th…that at le…least I…I do…don’t ha…have my si…sister’s slop…sloppy se…seconds,” she repeated and began to cry again, hiding her face in her hands. “I…I am a ho…horrible p…person,” she whimpered.

Azriel gently took her hands in his, guiding them away from her face. "You're not a horrible person, sweetheart," he said firmly. 

She wasn’t. 

He highly doubted that Sky had said that without…without her sister saying something worse first. 

And it wasn’t like it wasn’t…"Besides…you said nothing that wasn’t true,” Azriel said drily.."

Sky hiccuped out a laugh and then started crying in the earnest again. 

“That’s why you are so upset?” He asked softly, against her warm skin. “You aren’t a horrible person. I swear. 

“N..no.” Sky said softly. “I…I am ne..never se…seeing them again.”

Azriel's heart sank at her words. "Your family? Why…why are you never seeing them again?"

“I…I am ne..never se…seeing them again. Not after what they…they said.” She was dead serious. He could hear that in her voice. 

And it was…

Azriel's heart clenched at the thought of her severing ties with her family, of her…they treated her horrible but Sky loved them. Sky loved them so much. So much more than they deserved.  "What did they say, sweetheart?" he asked gently.

Sky took a shaky breath, struggling to get the words out. "They... They said…said so…some things," she whispered, her voice quavering. "Things I can't…I can’t for…forgive them for."

"What did they say, sweetheart?" he asked again, his voice gentle yet firm. "I want to know."

He wanted to know. And then he wanted to kill them for upsetting her like this. 

Sky closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. "You do…don’t want to know."

Azriel took her face in his hands, gently wiping away her tears. "I do want to know," he corrected her softly. "Because whatever they said, it hurt you, and I want to be there for you."

“They…They had a pro…problem with the fact that you were Ill…Illyrian,” she whispered.

Ah. “You don’t need to say anything more,” he said wryly. “But I promise that I have heard worse. If you still want to be around them…” he hated how they treated sky but he was not about to let her cut off contact with her family just because they didn’t like him. He could deal with that. He had survived worse.

Sky shook her head fiercely. "No,” she said, her voice so weak…and so definitive. “No.” 

Azriel's heart swelled with love for her as she stood her ground. "I understand, sweetheart," he murmured, pulling her closer. "If that's what you want, I'll stand by you, whatever you decide. But I don't want you to make this decision because of me."

“They…They told me that you were a cre…creature and a mo..monster and that they were surprised you hadn’t rip…ripped me apart. My father threatened to disinherit me if I didn’t give up the m…mating bond. So I told him I never wanted to hear a single word from him ever again,” she whispered, her voice growing stronger. 

Azriel's eyes darkened with anger as she recounted the hurtful things her family had said about him. He tightened his arms around her. 

"I'm so sorry, Sky," he whispered. "You don't deserve any of this. And your family doesn't deserve you."

“I coul…couldn't just…just sit there and let them say those ter…terrible things about you, about us,” Sky whispered. “I can't be around people who would say those kinds of things about the person I love the most in the world."

“…you love me?” He whispered in wonder.

She loved him? She chose him? Even over her family? Even…

Sky looked up at him, these blue eyes looking at him. “Yes. More than anything.”

He swallowed, his heart swelling. 

"I love you too, Sky. More than anything," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm so grateful that I have you in my life."

Sky smiled, her eyes shining with love. "You….You don't have to do a…anything to deserve me, Azriel. You just have to be yourself. That's all I've ever wanted. And I wouldn't change a thing about you. You're perfect, just the way you are."

Azriel felt a lump form in his throat. "I'm far from perfect, Sky," he said, his voice rough. "But I promise you, I will always do my best to make you happy. That's all I want."

He pressed soft kisses all over her face, making her giggle softly.

“Let’s just have our own Solstice celebration,“ he whispered softly.

Sky smiled at the idea. "Th..That sounds p…perfect," she whispered. “Just the two of us, together. It's a..all I need."

There still was a rabbit he had hunted in the cooling cabinet…and so while Azriel took care of cooking thst, Sky was making…something that involved stale bread, milk, eggs and plenty of sugar for dessert. 

Azriel smiled as he watched her work. "What in the world are you making, love?" he asked, peeking over her shoulder. "It smells delicious."

Sky grinned, holding up the bowl she was stirring. "It's…It’s a bread pudding," she said. "I found an old recipe in a c…cookbook. It's supposed to be a t…traditional Winter Solstice dessert."

Azriel raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You never cease to amaze me, sweetheart," he said, chuckling. "I can't wait to try it." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his heart full of adoration for her.

Sky blushed at his affection. "I just hope it turns out okay," she said, adding a pinch of cinnamon to the mix. "But even if it doesn't, it will be p…perfect just because we're together."

Azriel smiled at her words, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "You're right," he said softly. "As long as we're together, it doesn't matter what we eat or what we do. Just being with you is a gift in itself."

“You should write poetry,” his mate told him sweetly and he couldn’t help but laugh. He had picked up one of the poetry books she kept weeks ago and had found the whole thing… well. As long as Sky liked it… 

Azriel chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't think I have the talent for poetry, sweetheart," he said, grinning. "But I'm glad you think so highly of me."

Sky playfully nudged him with her shoulder. "Oh come on, I'm sure you could write the most beautiful sonnets if you r…really tried," she teased. "I've heard you whisper s…sweet nothings in my ear before, and they sound pretty poetic to me."

Azriel laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “I'll leave the sonnets to the experts and just continue whispering sweet nothings to you instead,” he promised her softly. 

“Sounds perfect to me,” she agreed brightly.

Dinner with Sky was better than any dinner with the inner circle could be. Roasted rabbit and crusty bread, followed by caramel bread pudding…

And then it was just him and Sky wrapped into each others arms on the couch, with Hector stretched out in front of the fireplace, blankets wrapped around him…

They had promised each other to not go overboard with gifts. But clearly oone of them had not listened, which hadn’t been him… there was a pile of wrapped gifts appearing on the couch table.

Azriel raised an eyebrow at the pile of gifts, chuckling. "Well, someone certainly didn't stick to our agreement, did they?" he teased, glancing at Sky with a playful smile. "Not that I mind, of course," he added, reaching for one of the packages. "I just hope my gift isn't embarrassingly small in comparison."

“…I…I only got you o…one thing,“ Sky admitted weakly, staring at the pile of gift. 

Then who… Azriel stared at the shadows who were swirling happily around sky.

“I think I know the culprit,” he said drily.

*I thought I told you not to buy her anything new,* he told them drily.

*We didn’t!* they assure him.

Azriel chuckled at the insistent swirling of the shadows. "I don't know, love," he said with a grin. "It seems like my shadows are feeling particularly generous this year." He reached for the nearest gift and handed it to her. "Here, why don't you open this one first?"

“You got me something?” Sky asked the shadows. “You shouldn’t have! I didn’t get anything for you!”

Azriel laughed, knowing that it was pointless to try and reason with the shadows when they were in a playful mood like this. "They don't care about that, love," he said, nudging her gently. "They just want to make you happy. Go on, open it."

Azriel had no idea what to even give the shadows anyway. *You could give us permission to ruin her sisters life,* they told him brightly

Azriel laughed again, shaking his head. *As tempting as that may be, I don’t think that's the best way to spread the holiday cheer,* he said drily.

*She deserves it,* the shadows murmured. *We wouldn’t outright kill her…*

*No, you’ll find some mischievous and chaotic way to torment her and make her life miserable,* he retorted with a grin. *Don’t physically harm her,* he warned them quietly. Tacit approval. The shadows danced in the spot as Sky opened the first box. Velvet wrapped. 

Jewellery.

A chicken egg sized sapphire in the middle of a necklace consisting out of sapphire and diamonds. He just sighed. Sky stared.

“Please…Please t…tell me that’s n..not r..real,“ she said weakly, her voice shaking. 

*Of course it’s real,* the shadows assured her like even the suggestion of it being fake was an affront. *Master’s mate doesn’t wear fake gems!*

Azriel would have liked to face palm. 

"I'm afraid the shadows insist that they only give the best for their master's mate," he said wryly. 

„This must have cost a fortune!“ Sky protested. “Where am I even supposed to wear it?“

Azriel chuckled, "I wouldn't waste my breath trying to argue with the shadows.  And as for where you're supposed to wear it, well… anywhere you want, really, love."

*Please tell me you didn’t steal that,* he told the shadows

*We didn't! We got it fair and square!* the shadows protested innocently.

Azriel raised an eyebrow, not quite believing them. *And how exactly did you manage that?* he asked dryly.

*We paid for it,* they told him innocently, fluttering around like they hadn’t bought her the biggest and most expensive sapphire he had ever seen.

“I can’t…“ Sky trailed off. 

“You’ll break their heart if you turn it down,“ Azriel said with a sigh."Just accept it, love," he said gently. "They mean well, even if they have a tendency to overdo it sometimes,” he said pointedly, something the shadows happily ignored. "They have their own line of credit, so whatever they buy is theirs to do with as they please," he said drily. 

Sky grimaced, staring down at the necklace…

"Please…please tell me there isn't…isn’t more pr…priceless je…jewellery in that stack?" she asked with a grimace. "

Azriel laughed, "I wish I could tell you that, but knowing the shadows, I wouldn't be surprised if they've bought you enough jewelry to start your own royal collection."

They had behaved...mostly.

If one ignored the hair comb dripping with some other blue stone...and the earrings that matched that necklace...and the quill that he was pretty sure was encrusted with actual diamonds.

Otherwise they had procured plenty of books for Sky, and had somehow found her a whole stack of notebooks…

(He was pretty sure they lied to him when they told him that they hadn’t bought any of this stuff knew. Where had they kept it otherwise?!)

Azriel couldn't help but shake his head in amusement as Sky opened each gift one by one. "Well, at least they managed to keep it under control for the most part," he said with a wry smile. "But knowing them, I'm sure there's still more where that came from."

Sky's eyes widened as she looked at all the gifts. "This is too much," she protested weakly. "I don't deserve all of this," she muttered. He would have argued, but instead he just pressed a kiss to her temple.  "Thank you very much," she thanked the shadows that happily twirled around her hair at her words.

Azriel chuckled, watching the shadows twirling in the air around Sky's head. "I think you just made their day," he said with a grin. "They're always happy to spoil you, love."

"I…I just hope they re…realize that I have a…absolutely no place to wear all of this," she said with a laugh. "I don't want to look like a walking jewelry store every time I leave the house…"

Azriel chuckled, "Well, they do have a bit of a tendency to go overboard when it comes to their gifts. But I can't really blame them, they just want to make you happy." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his eyes twinkling with love. "And you deserve everything and more, love, even if it makes you look like a walking jewelry store every once in a while."

She melted into the kiss.

"I went a very different route for your gift," she told him drily, handing him a sole gift bag.

The first thing he pulled from it was a tin of tuna. 

The laughter was immediate. He couldn't help it. Deep belly laughter, his amusement apparent, warmth filling his chest. Azriel couldn't help but burst into laughter as he pulled the tin of tuna from the gift bag. "Is this for Hector or for me?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"I did promise to buy you tuna," Sky gave back with a laugh. "I just thought it would set the tone for the second gift."

The second gift he pulled from the bag was a knitted sweater. Slits down the back for his wings...made out of thick and warm and soft black yarn.

Azriel's laughter faded into a gentle smile as he took in the knitted sweater. "Sky, is this..." He trailed off, fingers brushing the soft, warm fabric. "Did you make this?"

"I did promise to knit you a sweater too," she said simply. 

Azriel couldn't help but melt at her words, feeling his heart fill with warmth. "You remembered," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't believe you made this for me, sweetheart." He pulled Sky into a tight embrace, feeling her heart beat in sync with his. "It's perfect," he murmured, his voice muffled against her hair. "Just like you."

"I'm glad you like it," Sky said softly. "I know it's not as a King’s ransom in diamonds… but I wanted to give you something that was made with love."

Azriel pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his expression softening even more. "It means so much more to me because you made it," he said, his voice tender. "I'll cherish it always, just like I cherish you. Though I must admit my present is going to pale in comparison to that egg sized sapphire too," he told her drily.

Sky laughed, leaning into Azriel's embrace. "Well, to be fair, it's hard to compete with a sapphire that size," she said with a grin. "But I'm sure whatever you got me is perfect, even if it's not worth a small fortune."

It kinda was though. Even though it didn't look that way…mostly because he had spent a good few weeks until he had found a stone that even had a chance to stand next to her eyes. An oval sapphire flanked by two diamonds...set in white gold.

Azriel handed her the last box, trying to appear nonchalant. "Here, open this one," he said, trying to hide his nervousness. "I hope you like it."

Sky carefully untied the silk ribbon wrapped around the box and lifted the lid, her eyes widening in awe as she took in the ring inside.

"Marry me," it burst out of him.They had already accepted a mating bond. A marriage would be nothing more than a couple of vows in front of a priestess. But he...he wanted...

Azriel's heart was racing as he watched Sky's reaction to the ring, hoping and praying that she felt the same way he did. "I know that we already have the mating bond," he said softly. "But I want more than that, sweetheart. I...I want everything."

These devastating eyes lifted, looking at him."I want to spend every day for the rest of my life by your side," he continued, his voice rough with emotion. "I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep holding you every night. I want to build a life with you, a family with you." He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "And I want to make it official, in every way possible. Will you marry me, Sky?"

"Yes," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Yes, a hundred times yes. I want all of that too, and more. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, to be by your side every step of the way. I want to build a life together, a family together."

Quite frankly, Azriel thought that this Winter Solstice may be the best one he ever had, as she kissed him. 

"We could get started on making that family," Sky told him, biting her lips as she pulled back. "You know how High Fae fertility can be...could take us decades..."

Azriel's eyes widened at her words, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, love?" he asked, his voice low and raspy as he pulled her close.

Sky nodded, her expression shy and hopeful as she looked up at him. "I…I want to be a mother s…someday," she said softly. "And I can't think of anyone I'd rather have children with than you."

Azriel felt his heart melt at her words. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have found someone who loved him as much as Sky did. "I want that too, love," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Nothing would make me happier than to have a family with you."

[cherie-doll]

Hellu, could you maybe do a drabble or hc or whatever you feel comfortable with, of the cod men reacting to reader being in a car crash??

(I was just in a car crash, my head hurts, I’m coping 💀)

If not then that’s okay ❤️❤️

my goodness, are you okay dear?? ૮ ㅇㅁㅇ ྀིა

𓏲 Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

🝮 Price finally got some downtime to rest and catch up on his sleep debt at home. You insisted he stay home while you go to the grocery store only a few blocks away. Now imagine how his body tenses and he's up from the recliner in a heartbeat the moment he receives the phone call about your accident. He's supposed to drop the tense and hard face off while he's at home with you but this is worse. He's trying to keep calm on the surface but a can of worries within, just wanting to spill out. Thankfully, the accident didn't result in fatalities nor major injuries. He's holding you and checking you all over, listening to everything you're saying. Does something hurt? Feel dizzy? Need water? He's taking you right home, don't worry about the wrecked car.

🝮 Simon's mood when he picks up the phone initially is that he's annoyed, his answering "yes?" is a little sharp because you had just had a small argument over him once again not paying attention to the list of items you insisted he take when grocery shopping but didn't. So now you had to pause everything and go get the thing yourself, which means he'd have to wait at least another hour before he could eat dinner. Your voice over the phone was weak and scared, your frail voice that barely answered because your mind was all over the place and fading. You couldn't think straight after the crash. Simon dropped everything and staying on call with you made it faster than the cops would've. He carried you out of the car and cradled your body in his arms even in the ambulance, all the while muttering lowly how reckless you could be and how stupid and idiotic he was for letting you drive while mad. He swears he'd never let it happen again.

🝮 Johnny wasn't expecting you to answer with "was in a car crash" to "how was your day?" Like why are you telling him just now that you're arriving home. He gets off the couch he's by your side in an instant. Why didn't you call him? Because you thought it was nothing big? He almost thinks you're bluffing, why he can't help but assume the worst or imagine a terrible accident. You're sitting down this instant and- did you go to the hospital? And if you did he's surprised they just let you walk out. You argue back that you barely got a bruise but he insists you're going again and getting an examination done just in case. You have to tell him these things else he'll have a hard time letting you go out alone again.

🝮 The only thing Kyle knew was that you'd be hanging out with friends. And that's how it was supposed to be, he could expect you to come home late in the evening or maybe nearing night. But the clock marked the midnight hour and you hadn't walked through the front door yet; very unusual of you. He paced the living room from one wall to the other, he had the right to be worried so he wasn't being a controlling nor clingy partner if he just wanted to know where you were past midnight. The worry only increased when he called and it went straight to voicemail. Okay, maybe your phone died. And he kept trying to come up with plausible reasons as to why you weren't home yet when the bell rang and he threw the door open to a distressed looking friend of yours explaining the car accident you had been caught up in. You were conscious when taken away but in pain, your friend was still explaining this when Kyle grabbed his shoes and was already walking to the driveway.

🝮 Roach and you frequented bars pretty often and usually took a cab home. You hadn't had more than one drink however and decided to drive home while he dozed off in the backseat. He woke up to the sound of tires screeching and before he could make out what was happening his body was jerked and thrown forward. Groaning and rubbing his neck he called your name only for you to weakly respond. A soft gasp left his lips followed by his fingers reaching out to the bleeding gash, blood staining his fingertips. When he called emergency services and had you taken to the hospital, the cops has questioned how the accident happened and he was ready to take the blame on insisting you drive despite both having consumed alcohol. He knew there wasn't any other believable lie he could sputter, surely the one drink you'd had would show up on the tests.

🝮 Alejandro didn't think it'd ever happen to you. An accident bad enough that you had to be taken to the hospital? He's there as fast as he possibly could get there. He ignores the nurses who are trying to tell him that you're okay for the most part, just a little shaken. But he's checking you all over and almost loses it when he sees a bruise, demanding for the doctor. It takes you forcibly holding him back and holding his head so he can meet your eyes and see that you're fine, you're not in severe pain. From now on you're not driving anywhere alone because he doesn't another scare like that to happen again.

🝮 Rudy is worried sick when you insisted on driving the last stretch of the way home, at night too. Your driving skills are passable during the day but at night it can be difficult to tell from the high beams of other car's lights flashing at you. When you tried braking at a stop sign you saw last minute, due to the ice already forming on the road the car didn't come to a complete stop and nearly skid off the road. His hand instinctively reaches across to hold against your body, making sure you don't fly forward despite you having the seatbelt on. It's just instinct for him to protect you in every situation. He gets off, running over to your side and the time doesn't matter anymore. He'll sit out on the hood of the car however long you need to recover from the close call until you're ready to go back home. Except he's not letting you drive.

🝮 Phillip was waiting at a second location for you to come pick him up after his car was getting fixed for something. He wouldn't have bothered you but the repair shop was half an hour drive away, something was just bound to happen. And he doesn't realize this because his mind is so preoccupied with the petty shop owner over what was the problem with his truck that when his phone rings and he picks up he sounds a little mad, not at you though. Soon he hears a dispatcher's voice instead of yours his mind goes to the worst place. Don't know where he gets the car from but he's speeding down the highway praying that you're fine and he gets to you. But he gets there and sees you sitting on a strip of grass off to the side of the mess and holding an ice pack to your head.

🝮 Makarov is hiring a chauffeur to drive you everywhere and anywhere you need from here on out and finding out who was the idiot who rammed into the back of your car while at a stoplight. He can't believe you didn't ask the other driver for their information, doesn't matter though, he'll get the information later. Maybe you should quit going out altogether, no? Okay it was worth a try, whatever you want. From now on you have to promise to not ever get into an accident ever again. "How am I supposed to control tha-"

🝮 Keegan didn't freak out after you told him you just veered off the main road and were now stuck in some rundown road. He calmly gathered whatever tools he thought he might need and started his truck. The scene he encounters when he arrives is somewhat off, you're waving him over, sitting on the hood of your car with a sheepish smile. He walks around the car and finds the dent on the side and back of the car. And before he can ask what the hell happened- shit, you're bleeding? You're going to have to start from the beginning if you don't want him ignoring your requests and taking you to the emergency room instead.

🝮 König left the car parked with you waiting for him in the passenger seat, and when he came back he sees his car in pieces, absolutely destroyed from a car speeding off the road and ramming into the side. He panics, tries to pry the door open to get to you, even breaks a window before you're tapping him from behind. "I'm right here" He turns around, lifts you off the ground and lets out a sigh of relief. He seriously thought he would have to search through the wrecked car for you. How had you even gotten out? You saw stray cat and got out before the car had been hit. But now you have to be the one worrying over König's hand and forearm which has glass embedded.

🝮 Horangi blames himself for the car crash. He wanted to teach you to drift because you'd seen how he does it and you're eager to nail it too. Things escalate rather quickly and it's no longer a smooth Saturday drive when you loose control and drive off the road, the tires slipping onto the grass and slamming sideways into a tree. He's holding your head, not knowing if you're got knocked out unconscious or not, but his mind doesn't fully register the bigger dent is on the rear doors not the driver nor passenger side. With one hand he's holding your head to his chest, his other shaky hand attempting to dial emergency services, feeling faint himself before you come to and look around confused. He's grabbing your face in his hands looking you all over making sure you didn't receive a single bruise.

🝮 You assumed Nikto would be cross if he saw the state his car was in. He was hesitant to let you drive out alone knowing you still went a little hard on your turns and it had been raining frequently. The moment he arrives, you're fixed on his eyes, carefully determining whether he's already thought of what he'd do to you the moment he saw the disaster his car was. But you're surprised and speechless when he strides over to you, silently looks you over, barely assesses the car and just picks you up. "Aren't you mad?" "About what?" "Your car!" And he barely glances at it, shrugs and drives you home.

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Don't you agree we need more A/B/O for love and deep space?

Omegaverse Scenarios with the Boys

Content warning: Omegaverse, jealousy, marking, scenting, fluff, mild sexual content, no pronouns, MORE ABO! MORE ABO!

Original Post

“You’re back.”

You whip your head around to see Xavier standing at the balcony door, looking serene as ever in the mid-morning light. The soft look the sunlight gives him brings a smile to your face. However, it quickly strains and breaks, collapsing into a frown as Xavier steps out onto the deck. There’s nothing scary about his demeanor; he seems calm as usual but there’s a subtle tension in the air that fogs heavy from him.

Wordlessly, Xavier scans you up and down, focusing on…something. You’re not sure what he’s searching for, but you suspect he’s found it when his forehead creases and his voice drops.

“Did you visit Philos while you were out?"

"How'd you guess?"

"You smell like Jeremiah,” Xavier concludes coldly, which causes you to hold on tighter to the little packet of plant food clutched between your hands. “What were the two of you doing?” he follows up; this time he fixes his face and flashes you that sweet smile.

You’re smart enough to not be fooled by the innocent expression he puts on whenever he tries to pry information out of you. However, you have nothing to hide and answer honestly.

“My friend has been sick, so I wanted to send her some flowers.”

“Is that all?”

"I also got plant food for the strawberries," you add, flashing the green packet of nutrients. 

"That's not what I meant."

Your suspicion tipped off, you raise your eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Xavier closes in on you, each step making your heart pound as he boxes you in between himself and one of the large ceramic pots homing the strawberry plant. Raising your hands to your chest, your knuckles brush against the tassels of his hoodie as you try to make some space between the two of you. It's clear you have no room to run, and a part of you isn't sure you want to escape.

Xavier reaches out to you; his hand sweeps under the collar of your black turtleneck, sending jolts through your body when his fingertips hit the sore bruise in the soft junction of your neck. The way he immediately finds that tender target reminds you of the way he hunts down wanderers with precision, persistence, and unfortunately, pinpoint accuracy. Despite the severe shivers being coerced in your soul, it doesn’t frighten you as he traces around your scent gland.

“You’re practically shaking,” he mumbles, gripping the neck of your shirt and giving a gentle tug, exposing your bond mark. “Are you cold?”

“No," you answer immediately, watching his snooping hand from your periphery, "and don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not,” he says with a shake of his head as he continues to fumble with your clothing. “I was just wondering why you were so covered up.”

“There’s no reason,” you breathe out, distracted by the fierce concentration reflecting from dark pools of blue so different from the soft glimpses and angelic gazes he normally shares with you. They strike you so deeply, peering through you so sharply that memories from how the mark was made begin to flash through your mind, fumbling any other excuses you might have said.

“None at all?” he comments, making your face warm. “If the mark hurts, it’s nothing a hot bath won’t fix.”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Then, why are you covering it up?” he asks; this game of cat and mouse quickly unravels when he brings up, “Did you not want Jeremiah to see it?”

“That’s not it,” you deny with a sigh, pushing his hand away.

You never understand how Xavier can be so jealous. Jeremiah is a friend to both of you; he has been for centuries from your understanding. Even if there was some point in those decades that Jeremiah possibly had feelings for you stronger than friendship, you didn’t hold those same feelings for him. You only desired to be bonded with one person, the one standing in front of you. Even when he was being a needlessly jealous dummy.

“It has nothing to do with him.”

“Do you not like the way it looks?” He questions instead, his demeanor softening only slightly with regret. With a slight blush, Xavier pouts and rubs the back of his neck. “I admit I was a little out of it when I did it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it! It’s pretty,” you finally yell, which causes him to clamp his mouth shut enough for you to explain better. “This is the first time anyone made a bond mark on me, and it’s a little embarrassing cause then everyone knows, we’re um…” you start to lose your concentration when he looms over you. You take a sudden step back, stopping only when the pot behind you threatens to fall over when you bump it. “Doing things…together.”

Chest aching, you hope your explanation is satisfactory. You never want to make him insecure but the idea of people knowing intimate details of your love life makes you sheepish.

“So, you don’t want him to know.”

“Xavier, did you not listen to what I said?”

“I did but isn’t what you said still a roundabout way of saying you’re hiding it?” He teases with a small laugh. There’s a pleased curve in the smile on his face and a shimmering light like stardust in his eyes; unbeknownst to you, that’s from knowing he’s the first and only one to ever mark you. How proud he would be if everyone was aware of that fact. “You don’t have to be embarrassed by something so natural. Everyone, especially him, should know you’re mine and I’m yours.” 

You open your mouth to protest but you’re interrupted by him grabbing your wrist in one hand to prevent you from squirming away as he hooks a finger into your turtleneck. Pulling your collar, he presses an open-mouth kiss to your bond mark then higher up to nip the soft flesh under your earlobe, higher until he's breathing into your ear. 

"I'll fix it," he murmurs and kisses your neck again and again until all you can make sense of is the heat blooming along your throat with each touch of his lips. 

His kisses lack his normal gentleness; they’re filled instead with a desire that makes your knees shake and buckle. You’d fallen if he hadn’t held you closer, squeezed you to him like letting go would be the end of him, as if he finds joy in feeling the aftershocks of your fluttering heart against your ribcage.

“Xavier, what are you-you-ah."

You desperately hold in the moan that builds up in your chest as he continues to bite into your skin and the sound of his kisses fills your ear smooch by smooch. Xavier chuckles against your flesh.

“Relax. I’m not going to do anything bad to you. I’m simply making a few minor adjustments to your  first  mark." He hums, tongue sliding along your neck to mark its target. “I think this is a good spot,” he whispers before sinking his teeth into your pulse.

It burns in a searingly blinding way, and your eyes roll up when he sucks onto your bite-broken skin. He doesn't stop until he manages to ring out a strangled moan from your throat. He cements his work with another swipe of his tongue then pulls away to admire it.

He paints that innocent smile back on his face as he locks his eyes with yours. His voice is light and airy like a weight is off his shoulders when the fresh mark peeks from your turtleneck. "This time I gave you a mark you can’t hide."

It’s another day at the arcade and another day Zayne watches you spend an exorbitant amount of money winning a plushie you could’ve easily ordered cheaper online. The Tinkle Toy you win this time is cuter than the normal fare at least. It’s a bright candy streamer rainbow, with smiling pink cotton candy clouds.

“I did it!” you cheer and hold out your prize to him in search of his approval. He congratulates you on your well-earned victory. With a smiling face, you push the toy closer to him rather than hug it to your chest in your normal possessive manner.

“What is it?”

You wave the toy back and forth. “You know.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

In truth, Zayne knows exactly what you want, and it makes his neck hot under the collar. He presses his pointer finger to the bridge of his glasses and pushes them further up his nose as an excuse to avoid your slowly narrowing gaze. Your previously cheerful smile flattens into a stern line and your tone becomes more demanding.

“Zayne,” you repeat ominously, like a parent scolding their child for not finishing their chores. Somehow, it always works to earn his attention, and he briefly glances over the toy again; it looks much less cute this time, the carefully stitched smiles now a mocking grin.

Zayne examines his surroundings: the kids running around the overly decorated and gaudy arcade, the bored and drowsy-eyed employees behind the gift counter, the many older siblings and parents trying to win tickets for the little ones, and, well, you, glaring him down. That look tells him you’re not going to be willing to let this go despite how crowded the arcade has become in your short time here.

“You want me to scent your toy for you?” he questions, adding for emphasis, “Right here?”

“Rainbow Candy can’t join the other plushies in the nest without being christened by the leader.” Poking out your lip, you give him the biggest puppy eyes you can muster. It doesn’t move him enough to give in, not until your eyes start to gloss like stained glass and you softly plead, “Please, Dr. Zayne.”

Ice quickly breaks and chips in the mildest bit of sunlight, dissolving into warm puddles, and it’s just like that when Zayne finally breaks and melts at the smallest insistence from you. Grabbing the toy, Zayne quickly shoves it against his throat, ignoring how plush the toy feels against the underside of his chin. He trails it up and down the column of his neck, swiping it one final time under his chin. It’s a simple motion, done quickly and precisely to efficiently cover the toy in his scent in the least amount of time possible, yet it still feels so inappropriate to do here under your watchful, yearning gaze threatening to make his body stiff.

As he feels his limit about to be broken, he hands the rainbow back to your waiting arms.

“Is this satisfactory?”

You squeeze onto the toy as if someone could snatch it away. You press your face against it, smelling deeply, and when you look up at him from under your brow it’s with the sweetest smile he thinks he’s ever witnessed.

“Your best work yet, Dr. Zayne. Good job!” you giggle, and he has half a mind to pinch your cheek and wipe that childish grin off your face. “Now, I’ll have something to remember you by while you’re at work today.”

“Is that why you demand I scent all your toys?” he asks, and you nod slowly.

“You’re always so busy that I hardly get to see you outside of the hospital, so when I get lonely I just cuddle with these guys,” you confess. You press your nose deeper into one of the garishly pink cotton candy clouds; this time when your eyes waver like watery skies, it isn’t to sway him. “When the teddies smell like you, it’s like I’m holding a piece of you too.”

Those words connect everything that has ever happened between the two of you together, stringing the moments like a red line of fate. Despite the words  I love you  never leaving your lips, it excites the same effect that can make a sane man an idiot, an effect not even Zayne is immune to when you so innocently and freely express your feelings to him.

It’s a skill he struggles with; though for you and your happiness, he’s willing to give in and let loose the restrained mask he wears on his face as he listens to the one person he’s longed for all this time admit that they get lonely without him beside them.

“I think scenting you before my shift would be more comforting,” he offers; the adoration glowing in your irises makes him weak enough to stroke your forehead with the back of his hand. There’s a little whimper muffled into your plushie while your forehead feels hot to touch before your face falls into shock and your eyes dart around the room, like his before. As sweet and innocent as you can be, you can also be very easy to read. “You’re thinking inappropriately.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Not here.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

Zayne gently pokes your forehead to clear your head of the improper thoughts running through it causing you to whine and rub the spot, which only reminds him how you’re much, much cuter than any plushie. 

You hold in a giggle as Rafayel shoves his face against the crook of your neck. Since you came over to his studio, he hasn’t been able to tear himself away from you, which left you sitting on the couch, covered in little splotches of dried paint, trying to discern why he feels the need to drag his hands down your arm and audibly sniff your hair.

His breath is heavy and ragged as he sucks in a breath, or rather your scent, and continues to trace up your skin until his finger can finally sink into the collar of your button-up. “Did you do something different today? New lotion? Bath Soap?” 

“I did what I normally do every day.”

Rafayel groans against your skin again. You haven’t seen him hot and bothered, face soaked and flushing red with fever, since his last ebb day, which already happened earlier this year.

“Are you sure?” His lips on your skin feel so familiar that your body is immediately on edge and reacting to every stuttered exhale he makes whenever your leg so much as brushes against him. He sinks closer to you, removing any space in between your bodies. “You smell delectable.”

“Rafayel?”

“I just want a taste.”

“Rafayel, are you rutting?”

“No, I’m not,” he groans, laps your shoulder without any care for the fabric covering it, then pricks his canines against vulnerable, pulsing skin. You can tell he’s about to lose it when he pops the first button on your shirt, not even paying attention to the way his nails draw across your upper chest. “I’m just…admiring you…there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

There’s a whimper melting from his mouth when you press your hand to his chest and push away. Your confidence is quickly rising thanks to the pitiful expression on his face, highlighted by parted, puffy lips and wide violet-pink eyes fogged with hazy lustful clouds.

“I charge by the hour for appearances.”

Rafayel huffs lightly in response. Something about him is different today; something that your experience tells you is due to the rut he fails to explain away. He misses the usual flare he has, the coy seduction that he uses to draw you in. He trades it for brute force, spurred by the mind-numbing need to have this fire in him quenched inside of you as he grips your wrist and forces you closer to him.

“Just send any charges directly to the studio,” he pants out in desperation between sporadic breaths. His voice hitches, forming a short gasp when you grip his chin and focus his sights back on you. He follows so readily at any touch you offer him no matter how rough. Your mind was becoming fuzzy with how much power you have when he’s like this.

“I only take payments in kisses, but I’ll be sure to let Thomas know.”

There’s a moment where his eyes narrow, perhaps in frustration, before they drop and lock on your mouth; specifically, he's memorized by the motion of your tongue glancing across your lips. Rafayel is only consumed with thoughts of how gravely he wants to be the one wetting them despite doing so hundreds of times before. His body wildly craves yours like the months before he was graced with a taste of you, or maybe this yearning is because he knows exactly how it feels to be touched by you as you are now. Rafayel isn't sure which it is anymore, the lines fade and blur, becoming harder to trace by the second. It hurts being this vulnerable, his body uncontrolled by himself, but if you’re his mate then there isn’t anything to fear, at least not this time.

“On second thought, I really should settle my own debts.”

“Are you sure you can afford it?”

“I’ll gladly pay you with interest, darling,” he barely manages to force out in his last single coherent thought. “Now, let me taste you already.”

Rafayel leans closer, aiming for your lips, but is stopped by your nail dragging up the center of his neck, unhindered by the thick gulp he takes to stop his heart from jumping into his throat. You creep your finger up his chin, stopping at the point to force his head up and eyes to lock with yours. The smile on your face is torturous, the look in your eyes out to kill as your lips purse and part to form one simple word,

“Beg.”

The arrogant smirk on your face says you know he will; Rafayel knows he will; anything for a small taste to quench this thirst built in him since eternity for you, but he also knows he’ll have you in his trap instead very soon.

[flangore]

❥ my sweet, my darling

feat.: Alastor / f!reader

summary: Your loving husband makes sure to keep an eye on you at all times — for the sake of your safety, of course! His shadows help quite a bit with that.

warnings: mildly controlling Alastor (but in a sweet way....)

It's not often that you explicitly go against Alastor's wishes.

For one, that is because your goals and interests usually align either way; whether that's through fate or through Alastor's careful observations and plans is not for you to know. Secondly, you're well aware there's a good reason as to why he'd prefer to keep you out of the V's territory entirely; Vox seems eccentric and intimidating on a good day, and, from what you've heard, his obsession with your husband borders on insane. Neither of you doubt for even a second that he'd try and hurt or kidnap you just to get back at Alastor.

Today, however, you really can't help but make an exception. It's not your fault that the antique shop you heard of is located just past the outskirts of Alastor's part of town, and while this would usually mean that you'll simply go there together, stop by it during a walk, that just won't work, not when the necklace you've seen there is supposed to be a gift for him.

He's bought you plenty of jewellery before, both for special events such as Valentine's Day or your birthday, and simply just because a bracelet made him think of you, a ring fit well with your favourite dress, a hair accessory matched the shade of your eyes. It's safe to say Alastor spoils you profusely, and the urge to do the same for him is overwhelming.

You're determined, certainly — and yet, your throat suddenly feels tight when you eye the street in front of you, various posters and LED signs promoting the V's, naked bodies displayed in every storefront's window.

This isn't your kind of area, really. While you're not a prude per se, you're already not looking forward to other sinners coming up to talk to you, hands touching you unnecessarily much, tones sultry purrs.

It's for Alastor's sake, though. You're fine with some pushy demons approaching you as long as you keep your goal in mind; and seeing him smile with true surprise and joy was going to be worth it a thousand times. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself, taking one last look at the ominous sign, proudly claiming to have the wettest holes in all of Pride, you have been hiding behind.

It turns out your concerns are entirely unnecessary.

The very moment you step into the small alleyway, cringing instinctively in order to avoid drawing attention to yourself, shadow coils around your ankles, and a split second later you're back where you started, once more looking at the advertisement.

What?

Brows creasing, you move forward again; sure enough, you don't get further than a few metres before you're magically teleported behind the territory's border again. This is odd.

Two more attempts don't cut it, either. At this point, you're huffing, arms crossed in front of your chest, eyes narrowed unhappily, though, just as you raise your foot again, stubborn, the air around you shifts.

“It appears you're lost, dear.” Alastor's voice, sounding from behind you, tinged with amusement, really shouldn't make you flinch anymore, and yet you can't help but jump at his sudden materialisation, shadows curling around his limbs before finally fading into nothingness. “One would almost think you're doing it on purpose.”

“Goodness, you scared me”, you choke out, heart beating erratically against your ribcage. “I'm doing what on purpose?”

“Why, attempting to leave safe grounds, obviously.”

Ah. Right. Instinctively, you push your lips forward, hands now on your hips. You can't even deny any accusations. “Well”, you say, hesitating for a moment or three, “I was.”

Alastor leans forward, weight supported on his cane, eyebrows raised. “Is that so? I can only wonder why you'd endanger yourself this eagerly, darling.”

“That's a secret.”

“A secret?” His eyes sparkle, red glowing in the low light. “Colour me intrigued.”

“Well, I won't tell you.” You scoff. “Besides, I really doubt anything would have happened to me.”

“Is that so?” Alastor laughs, the noise so sharp that the contrast between it and the fondness in his gaze is startling. “Have you seen yourself, sweetheart? There were three men in the past five minutes alone, circling around you like vultures.”

The sudden use of the past tense makes you pause; you don't even bother to turn around and look for them, knowing you won't find anything that's left.

“Oh.”

“Yes, indeedy! Now, let's get you home, shall we?” Arms now linked together, Alastor is quick to lead you away from neon signs and bright LEDs; the one time you're about to be approached by a guy, seemingly blind to danger, to the reputation of the Radio Demon, his ears twitch backwards, the sound of his staff repeatedly hitting the ground the noise you decide to focus on instead of the quickly silenced screams.

It's quiet afterwards. Usually, you're able to enjoy the comfortable silence Alastor and you often settle in, proof of familiarity, though this time guilt gnaws at you, urging you to explain yourself, to prove that you didn't go against one of the few boundaries he has set without any important reason at all.

You'd hate for him to think that you don't take his concerns for you seriously. Your throat feels tight.

“I wanted to buy something for you.” The words leave your mouth quietly, though they catch his immediate interest nonetheless, scarlet gaze now focusing on your eyes, cast downwards. Still, he doesn't respond, prompting you to elaborate. “A necklace. I—, well. I thought it'd suit you.” The continued silence makes your chest ache. “You always buy me gifts that I absolutely adore; I merely wanted to do the same for you.”

Both of you come to a halt. A single claw moves underneath your chin, gently tipping it up. “I appreciate the effort, darling. Still, your safety is much more important to me than any surprise.” The warmed leather of his glove sends a shiver down your spine. “How about we go and take a look at it tomorrow, yes? I do promise to keep my eyes averted until after you've purchased it. Sound fair?”

That's not the point of a surprise gift. Nonetheless, your lips split into a toothy smile as you nod. “I'd love that.”

“Lovely! For now, I'm starved! How about I cook for us once we're back at the Hotel? What are you in the mood for, darling?”

i cannot tell you how huge the urge to write a long multichapter fic for him is....

[valleyofheartz]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

University AU

Pairing: Volleyball player!Sakusa Kiyoomi x Artist!F!Reader

angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, FWB to lovers, angst with a happy ending

WC: 9.7k

Synopsis: Falling in love with the pretty volleyball player in your first year of University wasn’t something you intended to happen; it just did. And then, two years later, the line between lust and love blurs. You want him beyond his body, but does he want every side of you? A part of you liked to think so, but Sakusa Kiyoomi is known for crushing hearts, and make no mistake, you were no exception.

Content/Warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, FWB relationship, graphic descriptions of blood/knives/wounds/organs (nothing actually happens), subtle hints of depression/anxiety, jealousy, curse words, one scene with a creep but its vague, pls lmk if I missed anything!

two August’s ago, you fell in love.

you remember laughing till tears cascaded down your rosy cheeks, face hurting from smiling so much. you remember soft touches; on your hand as you reached for the same item, on your waist when you squeezed by, on the corner of your mouth when you don’t seem to notice the crumbs that coat your lips. you remember a gentle smile, eyes crinkling the slightest bit as your heart stutters in your chest. you remember dark curly hair, mole kissed skin and eyes brimming with affection.

you remember everything.

bright, giddy, and curious, you entered university with dreams larger than the sun. your passion for art made you yearn. you wanted to draw everything beautiful. you’d sit by the tree near your campus library and draw for hours, music blaring through your headphones as you sketched pretty items, pretty scenery, and pretty people in your book.

it was under the tree you found your muse.

you recall forgetting to bring something to tie your hair with, leaving it to fall in your face when the the wind hit a little too hard. you squinted, frowning as you moved the strands out of your sight.

and then, as if entranced, you see the prettiest student walk towards the library. it’s like everything is suddenly moving slower. he’s clad in a- sports jacket? with your school logo, and black shorts to match. he has a gym bag hung on his right shoulder, but you find yourself more focused on the thick locks on his head and soft slope of his nose. his lips are full, pretty and pink. the slight chill from the air must be the reason why his cheeks are tinted as well, and your hands itch with the urge to draw this mythical being.

(first-year you was a little dramatic, but present you still understands her.)

you draw a rough sketch of him the moment he leaves, but you know had you had more time to look, you would’ve done a much better job.

✾

the second time you see him is at a party.

you had forgotten about the pretty boy as the days went on, more focused with school and handing in assignments. exams arrived, and then you were on break. your friends had begged you to show up, with promises of it being a fun experience even if all you wanted to do was curl up under the covers and sleep all day.

you end up wearing a cute outfit, somewhat revealing yet covering the parts you wanted to. your hair is styled with shiny clips that match your makeup. you feel pretty, and even though you initially did not want to go out, you think this might be a good idea.

“Y/n, let me know if you want to leave early, okay? And don’t drink anything random people offer you.” Kuroo grabs your arm, tone serious. you want to laugh at the usually silly guy being so protective of you.

you smile, “I know, father. No need to worry about me, it’s just my first party.”

Akaashi beside you ruffles your hair, “He has a reason to be worried, you’re a little too sweet for your own good.”

you scrunch up your nose, mentally disagreeing. you could certainly be mean. but they had yet to see you at your worst, so this made sense. you decide to let them keep this image of you.

Bokuto barrels forward, knocking into your back as you stumble into Kuroo’s arms. he catches you with ease, sending a glare towards his friend.

“Watch it, are you drunk already?”

Bokuto grins, “Pre-gamed a little too hard! My bad, bro.” he pauses, looking at you, “And the lady-bro.”

you stifle a giggle at his words, focusing on the warmth that emits from Kuroo. you suddenly regret wearing something that showed more skin, knowing you got cold easily.

“Tetsu, can we get drinks?” you grab his bicep gently as he looks down.

“Yeah, yeah. Let me just say hi to some of the guys and we’ll go.” he waits for Akaashi to come to your other side before walking, with you squashed between them.

you roll your eyes, what was up with them? it was your first time attending a university party, not your first time at a club.

you greet people mindlessly, and they all seem nice enough. you get restless after twenty minutes though, really wanting a drink. you tug Kuroo’s shirt gently, waiting for him to turn to you.

“I’m gonna go get a drink, you want anything?”

he frowns, “I’ll come, give me a sec.” he doesn’t wait for a response before excusing himself from his friends. they all wave him off as he guides you to another room in the house, which is more secluded.

you find the table, filled with all sorts of stuff you were unfamiliar with. one of Kuroo’s friends stands by, and you assume he’s keeping an eye on the beverages to ensure nobody spikes them with anything.

Kuroo gives him a quick nod before reaching for a bottle. he must know what he’s doing, however, as he pours you a mixture of two drinks before handing it to you. you take it with narrowed eyes, lifting it to your nose and oh, it smells fruity enough.

you down it in one go, looking back at Kuroo’s slackened jaw. you bark out a loud laugh, before covering it with your hand. “What?”

he shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing. Didn’t know you were so thirsty.”

you shrug in response, mindlessly scanning the room as Kuroo pours himself a drink.

despite the room being half empty, it is still fairly large. you can see a group playing beer pong on the left side, while the ones on the right are laughing loudly as they seemingly discuss something funny.

and then, your eyes land on him.

he’s standing with who you assume is his friend, with their back towards you. he’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, and the position allows his navy blue shirt to stretch with the muscle. you swallow when your eyes trail down to his slim waist.

broad shoulders and a small waist? surely that had to be illegal.

his black pants are loose, but fit his thighs nicely.

when your eyes go back to his face, you’re once again filled with the urge to pick up your pencil and draw. he’s not smiling, and you have a feeling he doesn’t smile very often, but it doesn’t take away from his beauty. his cheekbones are pretty and prominent, and you wonder how they would feel beneath your palms.

you bite on your bottom lip at the thought, feeling foolish for thinking about a stranger like that.

“Oh? Does my little Y/n have a crush?” a voice croons next to your ear.

you whip your head back with a glare, “Tetsu, no.”

he laughs loudly, head throwing back as he cackles. you frown, scrunching your nose at him even if he’s too busy laughing to see.

“Oh, c’mon cutie, I’m just teasing. Nothing wrong with a little crush, I would just recommend someone a little… nicer.” he says, out of breath as a grin stretches on his face.

you tilt your head, “Huh? You know him?“

Kuroo ruffles your hair gently, with you moving to fix it immediately.

“We aren’t close, but I do know him since he’s on the same team as me,” Kuroo smiles at the wide eyed look you give him. “i’d say i’m closer with his friend over there.”

when you glance back to the pair, you find that the pretty boy has his eyes on you.

your heart jumps, your body shivering as you snap your eyes back to Kuroo.

what the fuck? maybe you hallucinated that.

“Oh, your man is looking here.”

maybe not.

“Hey, want me to introduce you? Who knows, you might be able to defrost his heart.” he smirks, with you shaking your head to disagree. “No, thank you. I’m not going to defrost his heart like he’s some piece of frozen raw meat.”

he huffs out a laugh, turning into a cough when his eyes partially widen. “Well, you should prepare yourself, they’re both coming here right now.”

you look at Kuroo with an incredulous expression, “You’re fucking lying.”

“Such a foul mouth, cutie.” he lifts his hand up and looks beside you, “Hey, man.” he waves. he nods at the pretty boy next, who you assume nods back.

you finally allow yourself to look away from Kuroo and at the two new men in front of you. they’re both tall, but thankfully you’re used to being surrounded by tall men due to your friends.

you smile at the friend and glance at the pretty boy for a second, “Hi, I’m Y/n.” you’re thankful you manage to sound stable.

“I’m Adriah.” his friend says with a half grin. it’s boyish and charming, but you’re more concerned with the curly-haired guy beside him. your eyes dart to his next, anticipating an introduction.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

his voice is deep, it’s almost alluring. it reminds you of the dark chocolate you often pick up from the convenience store beside your dorm; bitter but comforting.

you always loved dark chocolate.

the thought makes your heart do a funny thing and your chest seize up.

✾

a year and a half later, you kiss Sakusa Kiyoomi for the first time.

you’re close friends by now, perhaps even best friends. you know him like the back of your hand; no, you know better than you know yourself.

you know his arms are covered in beauty marks, ones you’d like to trace with your lips. you know how his hair looks when he first awakens, eyes swollen and lips puffed out in a pout. you know his favorite food, and how he likes his coffee in the morning. you know he sighs through his nose when he’s feeling overstimulated, you know his lips press together when he’s about to say something mean. you know he crosses his arms when he feels like he needs to protect himself, you even know the brand of disinfecting wipes he prefers to buy.

you know he has a dimple on his left cheek when he smiles, you know how his lips stretch out all pretty when he’s caught off guard. you know the low timbre in his chest when he laughs, his thick steel walls suddenly nowhere to be seen as he allows himself to relax.

“Kiyo, please? I really want to go, and nobody else wants to come!” you beg, voice sad as you sit on the edge of his bed.

it’s 12:00PM, and Kiyoomi is still laying in bed. you understand, it is a Saturday, but you wanted to go out and visit the cat cafe with supposedly amazing tiramisu.

the lump on the bed barley moves, “Oh great, so I’m your last choice. I’ll pass.”

you smile, giggling. “No, you were my first choice, but you said no so I asked other people and they also refused, so now I came back to you!”

he lifts the covers, sitting up. he’s shirtless, and the sight of his bare body covered in pretty beauty marks makes your brain short-circuit. you turn away, huffing. “Put on a shirt you… perv.”

you hear a pretty laugh then, your head immediately turning back to catch the rare sight. he shakes his head, small grin still on his face, “I’m the perv? Not the one who’s red in the face and can’t even look me in the eye?”

you blink harshly, “I can look at you! I’m just… respecting your boundaries.”

you turn away again, crossing your arms. you hear the covers on the bed shuffle, and when you slowly turn around, you find yourself much closer to Kiyoomi than you thought.

you blink, moving to give him space and tumbling off the bed in the process with a yelp. he grabs you with wide eyes, moving so he takes the brunt of the fall.

you land on top of him, watching as he groans in pain below you. your hands are resting on his broad shoulders, and they feel smooth beneath your hands.

he sighs, laying his head on the floor. he looks up at you through lidded eyes. “So what now, genius? You made us fall.”

you shoot him a dirty look, “Well nobody told you to fall with me.”

“This is the ‘thank you’ I get? Next time I’ll let you get hurt, brat.” he rolls his eyes with a scoff.

you pout, bottom lip pushing out. “You’d let me fall and get hurt?”

he stares at you intently, not answering. you take the time to observe his face, wanting to burn the memory into your brain. you like the small bump on his nose. you like the way his bottom lip is slightly bigger than the top. you like the way his skin turns red easily, his cheeks often sporting a pretty blush even from the slightest chilly air. you like his thick curly hair, wondering how it would feel in your hands. you like his eyes too, dark and swirling with emotions you’ve yet to unravel and discover.

suddenly realizing your proximity, your eyes dart to his lips. plush and full, they look so inviting. you subconsciously lick your bottom lip, glancing up to find his eyes are also on your mouth. and when he finally looks you in the eye, you know if you don’t make a move now, you never will.

you lean in, slowly, and with a gentle exhale, you press your lips to his.

✾

a month later, you have sex with Kiyoomi.

it comes naturally, you think. soft kisses shared with hushed whispers were no longer enough. it led to heated touches and lust-filled eyes.

so when the two of you end up going further, you have no complaints.

he treats you exactly how you’d like, gentle in some ways and rough in others. you like the feel of his calloused hands caressing your skin, the rough bumps making him more attractive than you already thought he was.

and then you’re laying in bed, sweaty and covered in fluid. but his mattress is so comfortable, and your eyelids feel heavy.

“Y/n, we need to shower.”

“One minute.” you mumble quietly.

you feel a hand gently move hair out of your face, subconsciously leaning into the warmth of his palm. it’s gone before you can speak, and you have to force the whine down your throat.

you hear a sigh, and then feel a strong arm slide underneath your knees with the other behind your back as you are lifted into the air.

you squeak, hands scrambling to latch onto his neck. you look up at Kiyoomi with wide eyes, “Seriously, Kiyo? I can still walk, you jackass.”

he shakes his head with a small grin, and your hands itch to grab his face and kiss him senseless. “Are you sure you can walk? I’m not sure you can after all that.”

you change your mind, you want to slap him senseless.

“Ha-ha. So. Funny.” you deadpan, unable to help yourself and breaking into a smile when you feel his shoulders shake as he chuckles.

when the two of you are in bed, freshly washed and ready to sleep, Kiyoomi breaks your heart for the first time.

you’re laying your head on his chest, heartbeat steady and comforting as it almost lulls you to sleep.

his voice pulls you back, “Y/n,”

you hum in response.

“I don’t want you to misunderstand, I care about you, but I’m not looking for anything serious right now.” the words are spoken softly, but they cut through your heart nonetheless.

your body freezes, and you have to force yourself to relax when you realize he can feel it.

so what if Kiyoomi isn’t ready to date? you’re okay with kissing him, going out with him, and sleeping with him. you’re okay with that and not having a label. you’re okay with not being exclusive.

you’re okay with having him to this extent.

you’re okay.

“I understand. Don’t worry, Kiyoomi.”

✾

five months later, everything is the same.

and yet, nothing is the same.

“I don’t like this, Y/n. I think you should break things off with him.” Kuroo frowns, leaning into Akaashi’s side as he hogs the blanket to himself in the freezing cold apartment.

you pull your own fluffy throw closer, “There’s nothing to break off, Tetsu. There’s no label.”

Bokuto walks in, clad in a black tank top and volleyball shorts. “You can break off this unlabeled arrangement you have, Y/n! Just call it exactly that!” he smiles, hands on his hips standing proudly.

Akaashi coughs, “Bo, please put your air conditioning lower. We’re all going to get sick at this rate.”

Bokuto frowns, hands dropping to his sides. he walks to the thermostat, “Seriously? I think the temperature is fine.”

“That’s because you’re not human, you beast.” Kuroo snorts.

Bokuto turns around, looking scandalized. “I’m not a beast! You two are just weenies!”

you giggle, “Thank you for not including me with them, Kou.”

he salutes you with a cute little grin.

so maybe your friends were against your… situation with Kiyoomi. but you knew what you were doing, and while he might not want a relationship right now, you’re sure you can change his mind over time.

naive, perhaps, but you’ve always been a romantic at heart.

✾

everything comes to a head at one of their volleyball games.

you’re invited, of course. being friends with a few of the boys had allowed you to show up earlier and get seats in the front row.

it’s not your first game, but you’re excited nonetheless.

until you see Kiyoomi with someone unfamiliar.

she’s pretty, almost unearthly pretty. her hair is long, and cascades down her back like those magical waterfalls one would find deep in the forest. her smile is perfect, not crooked in the slightest. and when she greets him, her dainty hand smoothes over the skin of his arm; you walk faster.

Kuroo greets you first, with Akaashi and Bokuto coming behind him. you give them all your best wishes, but you can’t stop the uneasy feeling in your stomach at the sight of Sakusa with that girl.

when Akaashi sees your line of sight, he grimaces sympathetically. “Ah, that’s one of his friends from high school.”

your eyes shoot to his, and you wonder what expression you’re showing, because he comes closer and wraps you in a hug. you release a breath at the touch, letting yourself relax as he pats your back.

when you go to greet Sakusa, the girl is still there.

she’s sticking to him like a leech.

you try to get rid of the rude thoughts as you approach. she didn’t deserve your jealousy, nobody did. because you did this to yourself.

“Hi, Kiyo.” you smile.

he smiles back at you, and though it is small, it’s there. something in you settles when you think about how far the two of you have gotten.

the girl beside him is looking at the two of you curiously, but all you do is give her an awkward grin and turn back to Kiyoomi.

“Um, I just wanted to say good luck. I have a surprise for you, i’ll give it to you after the game.”

he raises a brow, intrigued. “You can’t give it to me now?”

you huff out a laugh. “No, silly. It’s a reward for you playing today. I know you’ll do well regardless of the outcome.”

his face smoothes out as he nods, “Okay, I’ll be waiting then.”

without another word you wave and turn around, walking to the seats and taking one in the front. you feel odd being the first to leave, but it was clear that the girl was not going to her seat until the game started. and while you’d like to talk to Kiyoomi more, you know you have to control yourself before you do something stupid like show him your jealousy.

the game goes by quickly, with your university winning the match. you cheer loudly, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. it’s times like these that you truly cherish the joy in life. even though you hadn’t played in the game yourself, you can practically feel the positive energy radiating off of the players, and it fills you with excitement.

you run down and across the court, moving to hug your friends as you congratulate them.

“Y/n are you going to come with us to get dinner? Please say yes!” Bokuto widens his eyes, bottom lip curling into a pout.

you smile, happy to be included but knowing you have to decline. “Sorry, Kou. I already have plans with Kiyoomi. Can we raincheck?”

he nods sadly, and Akaashi pats him on the back in consolation.

“Have fun at dinner! I’m going to find Kiyoomi.” you wait till they exit the gymnasium before turning around and looking for the tall dark-haired man you were enamored with.

you can’t seem to find him through the crowd and the thought has you frowning anxiously. you stumble inside the group of people, breathing out when you finally see the end of the mob. with another exhale, you look up.

you see red.

because there is Kiyoomi, with the small pretty girl in his arms as she wraps her own around his neck. their faces lean in together, and if you didn’t know any better you’d assume they were about to kiss.

without even knowing what you’re doing, you march right up and grab his arm, tugging him into you with as much force as you can muster.

he looks down at you with wide eyes, and even though his hair is damp with sweat and his shirt is sticking to his skin, you find him to be the prettiest in the room.

suddenly realizing how this looked, you let go of his arm and step back. “What were you two doing?” you ask, voice soft yet loud enough for him to hear. the crowd has begun to disperse, leaving only the team and their friends in the gymnasium.

the girl looks awkward, glancing between you and Kiyoomi before taking a step back. “Uh, I’m gonna get going now. I’ll text you later, ‘Omi.”

your eye twitches at the nickname, and when Kiyoomi simply nods at her, you feel like you’re losing your mind.

he says nothing to you as he moves to pack his things, stuffing his towel in his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. he doesn’t even glance at you as he walks out, with you trailing after him like a lost puppy.

the walk to his apartment is short, but because of the silence it feels much longer; much more painful, like every step is with your bare foot onto glass.

when you finally arrive at his place, he shuts the door and tosses his gym bag to the side before turning to you.

“Want to explain what that was?” his face is cold, and the uncaring way he speaks to you makes you nervous.

you swallow, “Shouldn’t you explain? Why were her arms… Why did it look like you two were dating, or something? Why did you let her touch you like that?”

he chuckles, though it has none of the sweetness that it is normally laced with. “Why the fuck does it matter? You’re not my girlfriend.”

surprisingly, the words don’t hurt as much as you thought they would. no, you knew that already. what really makes your skin burn is the way he looks at you.

you feel dread creep up on you, goosebumps arising on your skin as you shiver. the look in his eyes is unforgiving, a stark contrast to the normally fond gaze you are granted with.

maybe that’s why it twists the metaphorical knife that is lodged in your stomach, scarlet blood seeping out as the squelch rings in your ears. it feels far too real, you can almost see him holding the knife as it digs deeper into your flesh.

“I never liked that about you.”

it's vague, but you feel like you understand what he means regardless. you ask him to clarify despite yourself. “Never liked what?” you whisper. your hands are shaking; you hold them behind your back to conceal it.

“The way you act around me. Like we’re in a loving relationship when really, we’re just friends who sleep together sometimes.” the words spoken are firm, leaving no room for you to even question whether he means them or not.

“I’m sorry?” you sound breathless, asking him to confirm what he had already said.

his eyes darken further, and you swallow harshly at the sight.

“You need me to say more to get it through your thick skull?” he scoffs, furious, and the sound cuts into your already wounded heart.

“I don’t like the way you coddle me. I don’t appreciate when you give me your opinions on things you know nothing about.” he pauses. you wait with bated breath, wondering how much more your heart could take.

“And, god, I really fucking hate when you show up at my games and smother me in front of everyone. It’s uncomfortable, and then you put me on the spot and act like you’re my fucking girlfriend.”

it feels like someone has plunged their hand through your chest, tearing you apart as they grasp onto your beating heart; you can almost picture it, the way the mangled organ thumps erratically as crimson liquid seeps out between their fingers.

you inhale shakily, “I just… I love you, I’m sorry.”

you look up, to see who’s holding your heart hostage.

“I don’t love you. I never have, and I never will.”

it’s him.

and fuck, it’s always him.

✾

two summers from now, Sakusa knows he’ll be playing volleyball professionally, for the first time.

he’ll have finished his fourth year of university, and he will be happy.

happiness.

Sakusa doesn’t exactly understand the emotion. sure, he’s felt anxiety, rage, and satisfaction, but happiness? what did that even entail?

he sits silently, trying to drone out the professors talks of another essay, and suddenly regrets taking a psychology class. because the amount of writing it required was a bit too much, even for him.

and then his thoughts go back to happiness.

oftentimes, Sakusa is told he looks mean; grouchy. and yet, he remembers an old conversation with Atsumu.

“So… you and Y/n?” Atsumu drawled.

Sakusa sighs, moving to pack up his things in the locker room. “It’s not like that, don’t go spreading anything.”

the blond raises his hands in mock surrender, wet hair sticking to his forehead. “Hey! I would never!”

and then he grins, though not as obnoxious as usual. it’s more kind, if anything, and Sakusa doesn’t know what to make of it.

“I’m just saying, ya seem a lot less grumpy these days. Happier.”

Sakusa pauses, staring at the chipped paint on the wall.

Atsumu sighs, swinging his bag over his shoulder as he moves to exit. “She’s good for ya, ‘Omi.” he pats his shoulder twice on his way out. “Don’t fuck it up, man.”

Sakusa stiffens; not at the action, but at his words. he quickly places everything in his bag before zipping it up and heading home.

if he’s a bit dazed at practice the next day, no one says anything.

when Sakusa lays in bed, he recounts the last time he spoke to you.

it’s been two weeks, and even though time has passed, it feels like just yesterday you were standing in his kitchen with your heart on your sleeve, letting him use it however he wished.

he remembers feeling furious at you, for so obviously disrespecting one of his good high school friends. and then you hadn’t even apologized, you’d instead pushed at him even more.

and then… he ruined everything.

he remembers the look on your face, the pure heartbreak in your irises as he carelessly spewed words he knew would hurt you.

it was not surprising when he walked into practice two days later to see glares of contempt by some of his teammates, who he knew were your friends. even Atsumu had looked at him and shook his head, and some part of him burned with shame. his mistakes were on display for everyone to see, and although he wanted to pull his walls even higher, he felt too distraught at the potential loss of you to bother.

he remembers laying in bed that night, finally deciding to break the silence between the two of you. but with a simple, ‘I’m sorry. Can we talk?’ he was able to find out that he was blocked.

he felt ice run through his veins, pausing at the vibrant red letters, spelling Not Delivered. he quickly opened Instagram and Twitter and found you had him removed and blocked there as well.

fuck.

he had really done it now, hadn’t he? he so naively believed that you simply needed space, and once he gave you a sincere apology the two of you could go back to the way things were; that you two could explore whatever non-platonic feelings he was beginning to develop for you.

but once he realizes the gravity of the situation, he wonders what the point is of experiencing love for the first time if it ends here.

it can’t end here.

he makes it his mission to try to meet you.

first he showed up to your Thursday class, knowing it ended at noon and you had a two-hour gap between your next one. he has a coffee in one hand and a freshly baked donut in the other. he drove across town to grab it, knowing it was your favourite. he knows a mere donut cannot make up for what he said to you, but it felt wrong coming empty handed to reconcile with you. not when you deserved everything and more.

except when you see him, you immediately turn and walk in the opposite direction.

the action stings, and he sighs once you are out of view. the bag with the donut in his hand feels heavy, his hand tingling with the rejection. he knew you wouldn’t forgive him so easily, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

I deserve this, he acknowledges.

I deserve this and worse.

it’s the next week when he has the chance to see you again; he knows you’re working, often meeting you at the cafe to pick you up and take you to his place home.

so with a deep breath, he walks in. the door bell chimes loudly, and he curses mentally when he realizes how deserted the place is at the moment. there’s only a few people inside; a man sitting in the corner as he types furiously on his laptop. a woman and two others sitting on the side as they sip on what he assumes is coffee or tea.

and then he looks to the front, where you stand, and your eyes are on him.

the moment he takes a step forward, you stumble back, as if burned. he stops, unsure if he should keep walking or simply say something as he stands ten feet away from you.

unfortunately for him, you seem to come back to reality and swiftly open the door where it explicitly states STAFF. a moment later, one of your coworkers walks out with their customer service smile, and he deflates.

third time’s a charm, he says to comfort himself. but even he knows it won’t be that easy.

it’s friday, and even though he had no idea if you’d be home, he figured it was worth a shot. so that’s how he finds himself at your door, with a bouquet of white Tulips in his arms.

“Hi! Is there anything I can help you with?”

he jumps slightly when he hears a high-pitched voice coming from behind him, turning around and smoothing out his face.

“I’m not sure.” he states quietly.

“That’s okay! Is there anything in specific you’re looking for? A colour, or a meaning, perhaps?”

he frowns; it feels like all he’s been doing is frowning lately. “Uh, maybe something bright? Or… something that symbolizes forgiveness?”

she smiles sympathetically, and he wonders what expression he must be showing to warrant such a response from a stranger.

and that’s how he finds himself here. he shuffles on his feet, clutching the flowers to his chest protectively. with a soft inhale, he raises his fist and knocks.

silence.

he rings the doorbell this time, and still nothing.

he exhales quietly, his head dropping as he stares at the old carpet that covered the hallways in your apartment building. he’s been here so many times with you, but now he sees nothing but the back of your door and he has nobody but himself to blame.

he stands in front of your place for an hour, mindlessly staring at the wall as he recalls his words to you. how you’d handed your heart to him with your bare hands, only for him to treat it as though it meant nothing to him.

so on Sunday, he lays in bed and recounts the last two weeks.

he wants to wallow in self-pity, but then he hears banging on his door and wonders which unlucky soul will encounter his wrath.

he swings the door open, face emotionless and mouth ready to open and hurl insults at the other, until he sees his one and only cousin, Komori.

“Hey man!” his cousin smiles, innocent and happy.

Sakusa hates it.

his shoulders slump as all anger vanishes, exhaustion left in its wake. “What are you doing here, Moyota,”

he walks back to his room as Komori closes the door. “because if you can’t tell, i’m busy.”

Komori snorts, “Busy doing what? Moping?”

Sakusa glares at him, but in his disheveled state he merely looks like a feral wounded puppy. he crawls back under his covers, face smushed inside his pillow as he feels the other side of the bed dip.

“Get your outside clothes off my bed, Moyota.”

he hears a huff before the pressure is gone, and wills himself to sleep.

“Listen, I know you’re upset about what happened with Y/n, but sitting in your sadness won’t get you anywhere.”

Sakusa continues to lay there. “Mhm.”

Komori ignores the dry response, “There’s a party on Friday. You should go.”

“Why should I go to a party? You want me to drink my sorrows away?” his voice comes out muffled but he’s sure Komori can hear him regardless.

“Y/n will be there.”

that gets his attention. he sits up, the covers pooling at his waist as he crosses his arms. “How do you know?” his eyes narrow.

Komori rolls his eyes, “Because, I overheard Kuroo asking her to come on the phone. Something about him finding her someone new to replace you.”

he clenches his fists, feeling the burn of jealousy take over. replace him? he knew you were well-liked in your program, often waving at people whenever the two of you walked together on campus. he was not ignorant of the stares you’d get from fellow students. but it didn’t matter then because he knew his eyes were on you, and yours were on him.

but now everything’s different.

now, your eyes are not solely on him. the thought has his chest hurting in a way that he can only describe as a stabbing pain.

“I’ll go.”

✾

the week passes by too slow for Sakusa, but he knows it’s only because he’s missing you. when friday arrives, he’s feeling somewhat optimistic about meeting you and hopefully reconciling.

he scrunches the products in his hair, freshly washed from the shower. he’s wearing black slacks and a matching button-up. he places a few rings on his hands and moves to dry his hair with a cotton t-shirt once more before exiting his room.

“About time, dude. Why is your hair routine so complicated?” his cousin complains from his place on the couch, looking at him expectantly.

Sakusa grabs his keys on the counter, “My hair isn’t pin-straight, that’s why. Why are you still sitting down, let’s go.”

Komori rises with a shake of his head as he walks to the front door and slips on his shoes. Sakusa waits for him to leave before locking the door and following him to his car.

the drive seems unreasonably fast, and his palms feel sweaty as he wipes them on his pants. he’s suddenly thankful he chose to wear black bottoms.

when he walks inside the house, he’s immediately hit with the smell of alcohol and sweat. it’s absolutely disgusting, and he has to remind himself why he’s there as he takes another step forward.

“Let’s go to the back! It’ll be less busy there!” Komori raises his voice, but Sakusa can just barely hear his words. he nods and follows his cousin to another room, breathing out in relief when he notices there are fewer people.

Sakusa subtly shuffles towards an empty corner, knowing Komori is following him. he turns around, leaning on the wall, “These people are revolting. When is Y/n getting here?”

Komori scratches his head, tapping at his phone with one hand. “Not sure, let me check with my friends. I’ll ask where Kuroo is.”

he scowls, “Why would that matter?”

“Because he wouldn’t leave her alone at a party.” Komori shrugs. “They’re real close.”

something in his chest feels tight at his cousins words. you and Sakusa were once close; and if you forgave him, he’d let you be even closer. he just has to apologize and hopefully smooth everything over.

a part of him itches to go and search for you himself. he feels on edge, knowing you are so close yet so far away. it unsettles him, the thought that if you don’t forgive him he’ll have to watch you from afar, and accept that someone will love and care for you all the ways he didn’t.

but - does he love you? he cares for you, immensely at that. but does he love you?

he thinks about your pretty eyes, always filled with affection. he thinks about your ability to make people feel comfortable around you within minutes. he thinks about your small hands, your shy smile, the feeling of your hair when he twirls a lock around his finger as you lay in his bed. he thinks about how you look with the sun seeping through the crack in the curtains, skin glowing and lips slightly parted as you exhale softly.

his heart beat echos in his ears. he feels a flush take over his face and places the back of his hand on his forehead. he suddenly feels hot.

maybe he has a fever? but so suddenly? he swallows, the sound echoing in his head.

and then he finally sees you, drink in hand as you throw your head back and laugh.

his heart beats loudly in his chest.

he places a hand above it, feeling the erratic thumps beneath his palm.

ah.

so he loves you.

-

Sakusa waits.

he waits in the corner, a drink in his hand, courtesy of Komori as he subtly stares at you from across the room.

it’s been about an hour, and you’ve yet to notice him. he cherishes the time, observing you from afar. he watches you giggle and wrap your arms around your friends, the gaping hole you’d left in his heart the moment you walked out of his life grows by the minute.

he’s contemplating what to do when you finally lock eyes with him.

he watches the smile slowly slip off your face, something akin to agony colouring your eyes.

he begins to walk towards you, not breaking eye contact for a second. it's like he's entranced. and when he’s right in front of you, he feels breathless; like your existence has left him at a loss for words.

“Hey.”

his voice comes out rough, and he clears his throat when your lips tug downwards.

your friends are looking at him with distaste, even Bokuto who normally sports a happy grin seems fairly upset. it makes him realize what a huge fuck-up he is.

he shifts on his feet, “Can we talk?”

Kuroo answers for you. “No, you can’t. You’ve said enough to her.” he steps in front of you, shoulders pushed back.

Sakusa feels irritation bubble in his chest, but pushes it down, knowing that Kuroo has a reason to be protective over you.

“I just want to apologize. And, confess something.” his voice comes out more desperate than he thought it would. it sounds fragile, even to his own ears.

Kuroo deflates, if only slightly. “It’s still a no. Find someone else to mess around with.”

“I'm not messing around. I just, I need to talk to her. Please.” the cup in his hand is beginning to bend, the cheap plastic cracking as the drink sloshes around.

Kuroo opens his mouth to what he assumes refuse him again, until a small hand grabs onto his arm and steps in front of him.

he watches as you let go of Kuroo, looking more composed than you had been before.

“It’s okay, Tetsu. I can handle this.” your voice makes his skin tingle. he realizes how much he’s missed it.

Sakusa’s shoulders drop in relief. he feels so happy that you decided to talk to him, he doesn’t even care that your friends are glaring him down.

“But-”

you cut Kuroo off, “Really, it’s fine. I’ll text you if I need anything.”

Kuroo looks like he wants to argue, but you give him a look that has him backing down.

he huffs, “Fine. Just be careful. Call me if he does anything.”

Sakusa stops himself from scoffing, annoyed with Kuroo’s words. what would he do at this point? what could he possibly do to make things worse than they already are?

you pat Kuroo on the arm and walk past Sakusa, turning back. “Let’s go.” you don’t wait for a response before continuing, and he follows you without a glance at your friends.

he tries to control his breathing, attempting to keep it steady as you enter the backyard. it’s empty, the chilly night air keeping everyone inside.

you turn around, crossing your arms. “So? You wanted to talk?”

he licks his lips, rubbing his forearm with his hand. he’s thankful that he threw his drink out at the garbage can near the back door. he can feel his hands shaking, and hopes you don’t notice.

“Yeah.” he exhales, “How have you been?”

you shrug, expression guarded. “Fine.”

he nods, expecting the dry answer but still feeling a bit dejected.

“I miss you.”

the words come out so abruptly. the two of you stare at each other in shock, and he almost raises a hand to cover his mouth.

god, why did he just say that?

you laugh, but it comes out less genuine than he’s ever seen. “You should be happy you don’t have someone pretending to be your girlfriend, right?”

his face drops, and he knows whatever expression he’s showing is not as stoic as he thought. because with one glance at his face you look like you almost regret your words.

“I was.. I was so fucking stupid that night. I know you have no obligation to forgive me, but please let me apologize.”

you stare at him silently, before nodding.

Sakusa breathes out, “I’m sorry. Nothing I said was true. I was just… angry. Not at you, at myself. I had been denying how I felt for so long and when you asked me who that girl was, I just lost it.”

he stares at the grass rather than your face, not wanting to know if you look at him with an unforgiving gaze. “I realized that I had unintentionally entered a sort of- relationship with you. I was scared. I still am.”

he lifts his gaze finding your wide eyes. “It was an unintentional relationship, but I wouldn’t have done anything different.”

he pauses, “Of course, except when I ruined everything. I’ve stayed up every night since it happened thinking about how I could have responded differently.” his lips tug up, the expression bitter.

“Because it was after that I realized my feelings for you.”

your brows furrow, your eyes darting around his face in pure confusion. “What are you saying, Sakusa?”

he ignores the ache of you using his last name, “That I have feelings for you.”

the silence is deafening as crickets chirp in the silent night.

“I love you, Y/n.”

you stagger back, as if wounded. you shake your head, “No, no. You don’t love me, Sakusa.”

he doesn’t understand your response. sure, you wouldn’t be elated. he knew you were still upset. but you look like you genuinely don’t believe him, like you refuse to believe him. he feels like he’s going to collapse if you walk away without acknowledging his feelings.

“What? I’m serious, Y/n. I love you.” he reaches a hand out, drawing back when you flinch.

“I’m in love with you.” he whispers.

you look at him, as though he has caused you immense pain, before turning away and running back into the house.

Sakusa stands there, alone in the dark.

he wonders if love is supposed to be so painful; if he will always be the one to inflict the pain, cause the heartache, and leave everything in ruins.

✾

"Shit." you curse as you stare at the empty fridge in front of you. an old bar of havarti cheese and two stale apples stare mockingly at you.

so perhaps you haven't gone grocery shopping in quite a while, but you've been busy! with assignments, your friends, and... Sakusa, you have had too much on your head to worry about things like restocking your fridge.

but now it's nearly midnight, and you have yet to eat dinner. your stomach rumbles at you, and you press a hand to it in annoyance.

you can skip a meal, it's not the end of the world.

but then your stomach rumbles again, and it's starting to feel extremely uncomfortable.

you check your phone, just to see if you can order in. but with one glance at the delivery price, you click your phone off. you stare at the sad-looking apples and cheese once more, making up your mind.

the convenience store is about a ten-minute walk, five if you run.

without another thought, you grab a hoodie from the coat rack and put it on. you pick up your apartment keys and slip into your shoes, bracing yourself for the cold air.

the walk ends up being somewhat soothing, the normally lively city is quieter. you use the time to think about your relationship - or lack thereof, with Sakusa. you still remember when he professed his love for you two weeks ago.

you remember rushing back into the party and telling your friends you had to leave. Kuroo drove you home, and you spent the night eating leftover icecream and binging Jujutsu Kaisen.

why couldn't you date someone like Gojo?

but then you think someone calmer, more steady would suit your personality well. someone who you could rely on and with a bit of sarcasm perhaps. someone who has dark hair; you always liked curly hair on men.

someone like him.

Sakusa Kiyoomi.

your thoughts are cut off when you finally get to the store. the lights are bright underneath the dark sky, the bell chiming when you open the door. you quickly grab a few rice balls, and walk to the cashier. it takes you a total of three minutes to get what you want, before you're walking back out with a plastic bag in hand.

you look up as you walk, the stars twinkling prettily. they remind you of his eyes.

you really wish you could stop thinking about him.

Sakusa makes you feel like you've caught a never-ending sickness. like you will wake up each day with your chest in pain, with your eyes swollen from crying paired with your unstable emotions.

its exhausting, you think; caring about people to a point where they cannot understand or reciprocrate your feelings. and then you always end up like this. alone. you wonder how long it will take for the other people you cherish to leave you too.

your thoughts come to a halt when you hear footsteps behind you.

its dark outside, the streetlights only providing a dim yellow glow as you walk. when you turn your head, you notice a man in a hood. your heart immediately plummets.

fuck, what had you been thinking? you should have ordered delivery, screw the price! the money wasn't worth your life.

you walk faster, noticing the person speeding up their steps. your breathing is becoming heavier, and you can feel your legs trembling as you continue to walk. you know you can't go home, otherwise he will know where you live.

you make a detour to head to a park you've been to many times. it was about a five-minute walk from your place, and the thought has you walking faster anxiously.

when you hear his footsteps draw closer, you turn your head and see he is much closer than before.

your breath hitches, and you find yourself tearing up in fear.

you are about to resort to an offensive stance, prepared to swing your bag of riceballs at his head when you bump into something.

you gasp loudly, flinching so harshly at the suddenness of the situation. you look up, finding familiar dark eyes. they look at you with bewilderment, but all you can think about is the pure relief that pools in your stomach, the tears building up in your eyes finally falling.

you rush forward and wrap your arms around him, breathing in the familiar scent. your shoulders are trembling, but they calm slightly when you feel an arm wrap around your waist and the other smooth over your upper back.

he looks over your shoulder, and you are unsure what expression he is showing. "Did you need something?" his voice comes out deep and - angry. you wonder if you are hallucinating the protectiveness that coats his tone. his arms tighten around you further, causing you to relax in his embrace.

you wait, body stuck to his. you hear footsteps retreating, and breathe out shakily.

"He's gone." he says, voice low.

you nod, but you stay in your position for a few minutes, content to bury yourself in his embrace after such a terrifying situation.

"Kiyoomi?" you look up, placing your hands on his chest.

he tilts his head downwards, "Are you okay? He didn't do anything, did he?" his brows are furrowed, lips pursed. he looks extremely concerned, and you feel surprised that he seems to care about you so much.

you shake your head slowly, "No, he didn't do anything. I'm - i'm fine." you lick your lips, trying to convince yourself to believe your own words.

Sakusa doesn't answer you, but he does turn his head and glance back before looking down at you. "I'll walk you home. Are you okay to walk? I can carry you."

you don't have much energy left, but you manage to laugh anyway. "I can walk, thank you."

you gently push at his chest, even though you want to continue to stay in his arms. you don't have that privilege any longer, and you shouldn't have assumed you had it in the first place.

you nod, however, and accept his offer to walk you home. you'll let yourself be selfish just this once, and then you'll let him go.

the walk back is silent, but Sakusa sticks close to you. you feel safe with him next to you, regardless of the fact that he hurt you so deeply.

he seems to protect you from others, but never from himself and his words. you sigh tiredly at the thought.

when you get to your apartment, he insists on walking you up. once at your door, you look at him and shuffle on your feet awkwardly.

"Uh, thanks for helping me back there and walking me home. I'll go inside now." you reach for your doorknob but he grabs your hand, pulling you closer. his head dips down, and he closes his eyes with a sigh.

"Please, just talk to me. I can't handle this." his voice makes you shiver, and you curse your body for reacting that way to him.

you lick your lips, "Can't handle what?"

he opens his eyes, tilting his head further down to catch your gaze. "You being mad at me. You ignoring me. Please, tell me what I need to do to fix this."

the two of you are standing so close, your cheeks heat up at the proximity. he still makes you so nervous after two years of knowing him, and the thought has you annoyed with your weak heart.

a shaky breath escapes your lips. "I don't know. You really hurt me, Sakusa."

he looks at you, face pained. like you being upset is causing him pain, and your chest aches to make him feel better.

"I'm sorry, I love you."

the words bring you back to that night, where you bared your heart to him and he trampled on it without a thought. you feel the urge to let more tears slip out, but you are tired of crying over people that do not care for you. you are tired of being the one that loves more.

but he looks different now. his eyes are filled with remorse, and you want to kiss his frown away. maybe, just maybe, this time you wouldn't be the one who loved too much for their own good.

he wipes a thumb underneath your eye, swiping over your cheek. you hadn't even realized you were crying until the concern in his face grew. it makes you feel embarrassed and angry at yourself, but you can’t find it in you to refuse his comfort.

"You don't mean that, Kiyoomi." your voice cracks involuntarily.

he shakes his head pushing your foreheads closer to one another. "I do, I mean it. I'll say it a million times until you believe me."

you huff out a shaky breath. "A million times is a bit dramatic."

"I'd do it for you." he moves his head to the side, pressing a kiss to your temple. the action has butterflies erupting in your stomach, unused to something so innocently romantic.

"You realize we have a lot to talk about? It won't be easy. I can't forgive you so quickly." you lean closer, tilting your head up.

he leans his head downwards. "I know. I'm sorry, just give me a chance and we can talk about it. I'll work hard to make you forgive me." the words are whispered close to your lips, his breath hitting your face. the minty scent is so Kiyoomi, it has your heart fluttering.

you know you have a lot to talk about. you can't just gloss over the month you spent apart, and you would have to talk to your friends about your choice to give him another chance. it would be difficult, and a risk. you were tired of pouring love into people who could not understand its substance.

but perhaps you can hope; you can hope that this time things will be different. that you'll love someone who will love you back all the same.

"Okay." you say softly.

he smiles, and you wonder if you are imagining the glassy look in his eyes. "Okay?"

you nod, whispering once more. "Yeah, okay."

he tilts his head down and captures your lips with his own, one arm sliding around your waist and the other in your hair, tugging you impossibly close.

you gasp into it, not expecting the desperation that leaks from his lips. he pushes you against the wall, with you wrapping your arms around his neck.

tomorrow, you'd have a lot to think about. you'll have to talk to him and figure out what's in store for the two of you. you will also have to face people who will surely disagree with your decision.

but that was a problem for the future.

for now, you're content to focus on the warm lips on your own.

EXTRA:

"So, what happened with that girl anyway?" your cheek is smushed on Kiyoomi's chest as the two of you lay in bed. you had come over to his place after his practice, and you were enjoying the skinship and cuddles.

he shifts underneath you, "Which girl?" his voice is drowsy, and you know he's falling asleep. you can't help yourself though, you've been curious.

you lift your head, smiling at his tired eyes. "The one from the game. She kept touching you."

you watch recognition fill his eyes as he hums, "She asked me to grab a coffee a few days after the game. Haven't responded though."

you nod, satisfied. "Are you going to? Respond, that is."

he turns, large arm wrapping around you. "Why would I do that when I have you? I'd rather the both of us get coffee sometime."

you laugh, "Are you asking me out on a date, Sakusa Kiyoomi?"

he smiles sleepily, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Yes. Let's get coffee soon."

you giggle, snuggling closer. "Okay, sounds good to me."

the surprise you had wanted to give to him after the game sits on his wall, framed and beside his bed. the drawing is one of your best, filled with the overwhelming love you know you could only ever offer to Kiyoomi.

love has always been something daunting for you. to love so wholeheartedly meant the likelihood of someone hurting you was greater. but you don't regret anything, not the slightest bit.

because you know how much love you have to offer, and as long as its to the right person, you know he'll keep your heart safe.

you love him, and you're not sorry.

a/n: 9.7k words later i refuse to read this again:’)

[sevikasragdoll]

SEVIKA NSFW ALPHABET

pairings: dom!sevika x fem!reader

warnings, nsfw, sex positions, sex toys, use of straps, pussy eating, overstimulation, spanking, pussy slapping.

A = aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

very attentive and sweet with you. if she had gone particularly rough on you (that usually involving a lot of spanking and many rounds) she would kiss you softly and soothe your ass with the careful strokes of her hand, asking you questions like: “are you okay, baby?” “do you need water?” “where does it hurt, princess?”. even if you two had engaged in gentle sex, she would still clean you up and press kisses all over your body and give you praise. her baby has to be well taken care of.

B = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and of yours):

her favourite body part on herself would be her muscles, she takes a lot of pride in them. i mean… of course she does. MUSCLE MOMMY. she likes it when you pay attention to her muscles, touching and grabbing them.

on your body, her favourite part would be your tits. she loves to touch them, squeeze them, kiss them, mark them up with love bites. she also loves to watch them bounce up and down when you ride her strap… :)

C = cum (just anything to do with cum):

she loves the sight and sounds when you cum for her. whether it’s on her fingers, face, abs, thigh, or tongue… she does not care, she loves it.

D = dirty secret (it’s in the name, a dirty secret they have.)

when you and her first met, she would go to the brothel and pretend that the girls she’d fuck were you.

E = experienced (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

oh… THIS WOMAN KNOWS WHERE IT’S AT.

she has a lot of experience considering she’s in her late thirties-forty years old. also, she has been to brothels a lot throughout the years. and you can bet that she knows her way around a woman’s body. it was easy for her to find out all of the things that get you going and she uses that knowledge to her advantage every time.

F = favourite position:

missionary or you riding her.

she loves missionary usually when it’s the sweet and gentle sex, loving the way your facial expressions contort into pure pleasure with the strap inside of you, the way your lips part as you let out soft moans for her. her hands will roam all over your body, squeezing your tits or thighs, stroking hair away from your face. another reason she enjoys that position is because she can kiss you, whether that be your lips, your forehead, your neck, or your tits. she’d definitely be calling you many pet names during this moment like: “baby.” “sweet girl.” “princess.” “good girl.”

when you’re riding her, she likes it to get a little rough… which is one of the reasons it’s her favourite. she will buck her hips up to make sure the strap is burying deep inside of you, her large hands will grab at your thighs and hips and ass, giving spanks and harsh grabs to your ass. another reason it is her favourite is because she gets to see the way your tits bounce up and down in rhythm with your body. “my little slut/whore.” may be used once or twice 🤭🤭

G = goofy (are they more serious during sex or are they more humorous?):

it depends on the situation for sevika. if it’s one of those nights where you two are engaging in rough sex then she has got that serious demeanour going.

but… if you two are having gentle sex then there will definitely be some smiles and maybe the odd soft laughter shared between the two of you. so not too goofy but… a little lighter.

H = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?):

this bitch has a bush and nobody can convince me otherwise. she may shave it sometimes when she can be bothered but even then it wouldn’t be much, not caring about it and neither do you.

as for the carpet matching the drapes then, yes! more or less. her bush is just a little darker than her brunette hair… but still a shade of brown.

I= intimacy (how are they during the moment romantically?):

intimacy is a must-have no matter what type of sex you two are having. even when she’s being rough with you, if she gets any inclination that you’re in actual pain, she will ask “am i hurting you, baby?” and if you response with a yes then she will stop what she’s doing and give you kisses and make you feel better.

obviously, during gentle sex there is lots, and i mean LOTS, of intimacy. sweet kisses and soft touches all over, calling you pet names and giving you praises.

J = jack off (does she masturbate? if so, how often?):

only does it sometimes when you’re not there and she’s feeling very horny. she’ll touch herself as she imagines the sounds of your moans and whimpers.

K = kink (one or more of their kinks):

spanking and bondage

she’s a freaky gal, what can i say?! She loves to see red handprint marks on your asscheeks, pounding into you with her strap with each smack. sometimes she’ll even smack your tits… and your pussy :)

with the bondage, she finds it such a turn on that you’re so desperate to touch her when you’re tied up, pulling at the ropes but you can’t set yourself free, the desperation in your face makes her wet AS FUCK.

L = location (fave place to do it.):

anywhere that’s inside the place where you two live. she doesn’t really like to do it anywhere else because then you’d have to be quiet and she LOVES hearing your moans. so inside the house it could be against the walls, on the couch, on the kitchen counter, in the bedroom, in the shower etc.

M = motivation (what gets them going/turns them on):

literally fucking everything. this bitch be so horny. the sight of you in shorts would even be enough to make her wet and needing to touch you. but… wearing her clothes definitely gets her going more than anything, even though she does want to rip that shirt off of you as soon as possible.

N = no’s (what they won’t do during sex):

she would not do anything that would bring you actual pain/you’d be uncomfortable with. and DEFINITELY no cnc play around here.

O = oral (do they prefer giving or receiving?):

prefers giving but is not against receiving on the odd occasion. she loves to hear you moan for her whilst her tongue feasts on your pussy, the way your hips squirm and fingers grasp at her hair or leave scratches on her shoulders. usually she likes to receive when she’s had a long day working and is too tired, always calling you a “good girl.” as you go down on her pussy.

P = pace (are they fast and rough? or slow and gentle?):

both!

it depends on what kind of day she’s had. if she’s stressed or angry about something, you bet you’re getting bent over, spanked, hair pulled, and her strap filing your pussy, also getting called “my little slut.”

although, if she’s had a particularly good day or she’s just feeling sweet then she would be slow and gentle with you, savouring your facial expressions and soft moans as she slides the strap in and out of your pussy, her hands caressing all over your body, being called thinks like “my princess.” “my good girl.” “pretty thing.”

Q = quickie (what are their opinions on quickies? how often?):

doesn’t partake in them often but will if she’s feeling really horny, or if you are as well. sometimes you’ll be sat on her lap whilst she gambles and you’d look at her a certain way, or fidget around in her lap, and she’d know what you want, taking you to the toilets and eating your pussy.

R = risk (do they like to experiment? does she like to take risks?):

she does like to experiment, putting you in plenty of different positions during sex to see how you’d look and how it would make you feel. however, taking risks aren’t really her thing as nobody else is allowed to see you in that vulnerable state but her.

S = stamina (how long do they last?):

OH. this woman could go on for the whole night if you’d let her, she only stops when you’ve had enough, which is usually after around four or five rounds… maybe more if you’re in the really desperate mood to please her.

T = toys (do they own any sex toys? do they use them on their partner? do they use them on themselves?):

DEFINITELY. she owns a few straps that are different lengths, as well as a two-sides one, and also a vibrator. she likes to tease you with the vibrator, keeping it on your pussy until you’re moaning loudly and about to cum and then she’ll take it off, finding your whines and pleas sexy, saying to you “awh. d’you want my strap, pretty girl?”. most of the time she will use the usual strap on you, liking to focus on your pleasure… but a woman’s also gotta have her pleasure so sometimes she will whip out the double-sided strap and both of you get to have some fun.

V = volume ( how loud are they? what sounds do they make?):

sevika usually just stuck to small gasps of breath and grunts but if some days you’re eating her pussy like a starved woman… she can’t help but let out a few very high pitched moans…

W = wild card (a random headcanon for the character.):

sometimes, when she’s just lounging around your guys’ place, she would wear the strap on beneath her clothes and see how long it takes for you to notice. she sees it as a game. and when you do notice, you’re in a for a loooong night…

X = x-ray (let’s take a look beneath those clothes…):

8 inch dark red strap… because she’s freakay like that!

for underwear, she wears boxers most of the time but sometimes she will slip on a lace black thong just to surprise you, and you love it every time. she doesn’t wear bra’s, not finding them comfortable so she lets them titties hang free. free the nips girl ✊🏻✊🏻

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

pretty damn high. what can i say? she’s obsessed with you, her pretty girl. she practically salivates at just the sight of you in those pretty little skirts or skimpy shorts, when you come out of the shower wet and in a towel, walking around in one of your robes. best bet you will be getting taken to bed straight away!

Z = zzz (how long does it take them to fall asleep afterwards?):

will always make sure that you’re asleep before her. she likes to cuddle you after the sexual acts and run her hands over the soft skin of your belly, thighs, arms, shoulders, tits. she’ll whisper things into your ear like: “you did so well, baby.” “you can go to sleep, i’m here.” “you’re my pretty girl.”. Her gentle whispers usually do the trick of getting you fast asleep.

[walpu]

I've got those requests almost at the same time jsrfwwxewe also I fucked up big time and accidentally deleted them but thanks god I've made the screenshots

I've been looking forward to writing something nsfw for him lmao

nsfw headcanons w/Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, nsfw, subby!Aven. Somehow turned into a character study. Somewhat angsty but with a turn for hurt/comfort. No beta.

Okay, first of all, he's no virgin. But he's NOT a manwhore either. Like for some reason when it comes to the cunning characters it's always either he's a dickrider-pussydestroyer-900 or he's actually a fragile innocent virgin baby. Not the case with Aventurine, not on my watch at least.

I mean it's pretty much canon that the only moment he feels truly alive is when he's gambling so he won't seek sex for the purpose of filling up the hole in his heart. And I don't see him as a lustful person in general.

He has one-night stands from time to time though. Not particularly often but once in a while he feels a certain level of frustration and stress budling up in him so in order to distress without losing his cool he seeks sexual relief. For him it's a safe way to relax a bit without actually taking off the mask of a frivolous and confident man.

Also. He's very touch starved. Not even in a lustful way, he just wants to feel someone's touch. Someone on twitter pointed out that he's practically hugging himself on his e6 and I haven't been the same ever since.

And now look at his body language in almost every cutscene. He has his arms crossed and is generally pretty reversed. I think he doesn't trust people around enough to be in his personal space but when it's a part of the sexual act, it's just natural. He doesn't have to feel exposed. So yeah. This is another reason why he seeks sex.

Now do you remember what Sparkle said to him? About stripping himself naked for Sunday and all that? Yeah I feel like he gets comments like that a lot due to people's prejudice against Avgins. People are usually not this straightforward butttt the idea behind their comments is the same.

He may act unaffected as long as he wants to but I do think it messed him up quite a bit.

Due to his fucked up views on his own value and his sexuality he doesn't have a healthy set of boundaries with his partners, allowing them to be as mean and rough as they want. And I don't mean just kinky stuff, I mean genuinely uncaring partners who really don't give a shit about Aven's comfort. I think subconsciously he seeks people like this. In his eyes, it's better this way, otherwise he may crumble from a gently and caring touch.

So yeah. His sexual encounters usually leave him sore and exhausted. The initial feeling of relief washes away in the morning, leaving him more empty than before.

Okay now to the happier part because we are 466 words in and I still didn't say anything good or sexy.

If the two of you started your relationship as a fling then initially he would be surprised because of how observant and attentive you are.

"My, my, how caring you are. But don't worry about me, you're free to use me as you wish" he says in the same flirty tone as usual. And you just. Stare.

He acts like he's bored while you literally pry the information out of him and, well, he doesn't give you anything specific anyway so you have to ask questions during the whole prosses to make sure he's doing fine. Orrr you just set for something very vanilla just in case.

In reality he's a bit confused. Has mixed feeling about this. Being treated with such care makes it harder for him to hide behind his mask but it feels so nice.

And when he realizes that he has actual feelings for you he just. Stops sleeping with you lmao. If you have questions about this he'll find 2134144 excuses but in reality he just tries to figure out his own feelings.

If you started off as friends then he would not try to sleep with you until you start dating. At first he just doesn't want to mix up this dynamics. And when he catches feelings, he just tries to make sense of it. Plus since sex is not something entirely positive for him, he's just kind of... unsure how it may affect your relationship even if it's obvious that the two of you want each other.

Okay now the real talk. When the two of you are officially lovers be prepared to face his messed up views on his own sexuality. Will probably need a lot of reassurance, attention and aftercare to realize the importance of his own safety and comfort. Learns to value himself through you.

A very good lover, knows how to please you and wants to please you. His previous sex partners weren't important to him so he didn't go out of his way to make them feel good but with you it's a different story. Literally worships your body, pressing kisses everywhere. Especially likes your thighs. Kisses them, bites them, leaves marks all over them. Loooooves teasing them while keeping eye contact with you right before giving you oral.

I feel like he's a switch but leans towards being a sub. May dom if you want him to or, rarely, if he feels like it.

May look like a brat but is not actually a brat. Well, most of the time. He's a tease but still does pretty much everything you want without making you work for it. However, if he's in a playful mood, may get all cheeky with you. Says stuff like: "Oh, that's all? I know you can do better" or "My dearest, don't disappoint me, okay? You know I don't make deals that don't pay off" just to rile you up. He loves being tamed okay. He knows you won't hurt him so him being all cheeky and disobedient is actually a huge sign that he's comfortable with you and trusts you fully.

Worship his body and he'll melt. Like. He'll genuinely crumble.

Goes all worked up and needy and soft and completely submissive in your arms.

Loves loves loves edging you. And fucking hate being edged. And by "hates" I mean he will whine and sulk and beg you to let him cum already. Secretly loves it but won't admit. You know it anyway since he never tries to stop you, obeying your every command, like a good boy he is. If you tell him that you'll stop doing that if he actually wants you to he'll huff and admit that he's not actually against you being a meanie.

Loves marking your body and loves when you mark his. HOWEVER would prefer to leave/have hickeys on the parts of your bodies that are usually covered. Doesn't want to create any rumors and doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. However, if you're into this, he'll gladly cover your entire neck with hickeys.

Is actually very sensitive pretty much everywhere so it's quite easy to overstimulate him. Once again, he'll whine but would never be against it.

Has the pretties moans and is very loud as well.

Doesn't have a lot of stamina so if he tops and you're still not satisfied after he cums, he'll use toys to entertain you up until he is ready for another round. If he bottoms then please give him some time to rest. Andddd kiss all over his body so he would get worked up again as soon as possible.

Has a praise kink. And a bit of a degradation kink too actually. Don't just insult him, mix it up with a praise and boom he's ready to cum.

Loves aftercare. Both giving and receiving it. He feels extremely vulnerable after a sensual lovemaking session so please just hold him and tell him he did great.

[cowboybeepboop]

The chase

”You know, Y/N, all these years of chasing storms... I think I've just realized what I've really been after." He pauses, his voice thick with emotion. "You. You're all I've ever been chasing."

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader

Genre: smut, idk it’s romantic too

Word count: 4k

Summary: Rivals in their careers as YouTube tornado chasers. But where you focus on chasing the storm Tyler is more focused on chasing you.

a/n: tbh I didn’t proofread so if there are mistakes my bad. But anyways hope you enjoy it. If you have any requests lemme know I’d be more than happy to write something for you.

You and Tyler Owens are two of the most well renowned storm chasers on YouTube, but your rivalry is legendary. Where Tyler is known for his daring and high-risk approach, you pride yourself on meticulous awning and safety. Your heated competition has been the talk of the tornado chasing community for years.

When a massive superstorm is predicted to hit a remote region, the stakes are higher than ever. Both you and Tyler are determined to capture the most intense footage, proving once and for all who really is on top.

As you sit in your hotel room, scrolling through various weather reports and radar apps, you can’t help but feel the tension building in the air. It’s the night before the big storm. You glance over at the door, knowing that your biggest competitor, Tyler Owens, is just a room away. The thought of him being so close sends a surge of frustration through you, but you try to focus on your preparations for the storm ahead.

You just came out of a steamy shower, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and your white painties. A loud knock on the door startles you from your thoughts, a sigh leaving your lips as you open the door. A scowl covers your face as you see your rival standing in front of you with a sly grin.

He chuckles at your reaction, leaning in the doorway. “What’re you doing in there? Thinking about your favorite country boy?” You cross your arms over your chest, glaring up at him.

“What do you want Tyler?” Your voice is full of annoyance.

He chuckles again, taking in your annoyed expression, his own cocky smirk adorning his face. He looks over your figure, thinking about you in far more inappropriate ways than he should.

“Can’t I just stop by to talk?” His voice is low and seductive as he takes a step toward you.

Putting a hand on his chest stopping him from coming in any further. “No, not without wanting something from me.” Standing your ground, you continue with a stern tone. “I know you Tyler, you don’t just stop by for no reason.”

He smiles, putting his own hand on top of the one on his chest. He slowly looks you up and down again, biting his lip as he does so. “Maybe I just can’t stay away from you…”

He takes a step closer once again, towering over you. His eyes lock into yours as he study’s your expression. Your breath hitches in your throat as a soft blush creeps up your cheeks.

“And what is that supposed to mean, cowboy?” You say while trying to regain your composure.

He notices your blush, his smirk growing at your reaction. He takes another small and careful step to you, closing the door behind him. He brushes your hair behind your hair, his eyes looking you up and down.

“It means I can’t take my mind off of you,” He takes another cautious step closer, “No matter how hard I try…” his voice trails off, your bodies inches apart, his body pressing very gently against yours.

“Tyler…” you whisper breathlessly, “Stop messing with me,” you step away from him, clearing your throat. Taking a deep breath you finish your sentence “We have a big storm tomorrow, why don’t you stop playing games and go back to your room” our voice regaining its firmness.

His smile drops when you step away, his eyes looking slightly hurt, but his usual cocky facade covers it back up.

“Why would I play games with you?” His voice is softer than usual, a bit of anger in his words. He’s filled with frustration at your constant pushing him away, even though you’re the one thing he can think about. “Why can’t you just let down your guard for a second and let me in?”

His hand cups your cheek pulling you closer to him as he wraps an arm around your waist. “Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave,” he whispers.

“Tyler?” Your voice is quiet as you look into his blue-green eyes. His thumb caresses your cheek gently. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of what you’re thinking, but he comes up with nothing. His cocky act drops slightly and you can see through his eyes how desperate he is for you.

He leans down next to your ear, his hot breath brushing against your neck. His voice is quiet and low, a pleading tone in his words. “Say it…” his body presses closer to yours “Tell me you don’t want me.”

Your eyes flick to the door then back to him. You find yourself speechless with a newfound dryness in your throat. “Ty.. I..” your voice trails off.

His fingers run down your side, bringing you flush against his body, his hand taking in every curve of your hips and waist. He nuzzles the crook of your neck, his hot breath teasing your bare skin. His voice is even lower as he whispers to you

“Tell me this isn’t what you want,” he presses a soft kiss on your neck, “Tell me you want me to go,” his lips move further down your neck, to your collarbone. “Tell me you don’t want me.” His voice is filled with desperation as he slides a hand up your shirt cupping one of your breasts, his thumb rubbing over your hard nipple.

You press up against the wall, pleasure running through your body as a soft moan escapes your lips. “Tyler…” you move your hand to his hair, tugging on the roots softly while pulling him closer to you.

“Tyler, I want you…” Your voice trails off as you squeeze your eyes shut relishing in the feeling of his hands on your body. His lips move against the side of your neck, leaving a long, slow trail of kisses, bites and light hickeys. His body reacting to our moans.

A low growl leaves his lips as you say the words he’s been waiting to hear. A wave of pleasure washes over him, his hand grips the back of your thigh pulling you up against him until you’re lifted off the ground, legs wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck, Y/N,” His voice is low, “Say my name again,” his voice more demanding. Another knock at your door interrupts you and Tyler. His hands stay firm against your body even as he pulls his lips away from your skin.

”Y/N?” your storm chasing partner knocks at the door again. Tyler looks down at you with an expression of annoyance, frustrated at the interruption.

“Tyler…” your voice is stern as you pull your body away from his “hide in the bathroom” you whisper.

“You have to be kidding me. He mutters, reluctantly putting you down and letting his hands fall away from your body. As you send him into the bathroom he shoots you a glare before shutting the door leaving it open a crack, hiding in the bathroom and listening in on your conversation.

“Hey, Adam” you smile while inviting him in.

“Y/N, did you figure out what the plan is for tomorrow morning?” His hands cross over his chest as his eyes look you up and down, taking in your disheveled appearance. The only thing you’re wearing is a white tshirt over your lace panties.

He clears his throat, his hand going to his neck. Tyler looks through the crack of the bathroom door. He clenches his fist as he watches your partner taking in your appearance.

Tyler can see how Adam is thinking because it's the same way he is, like he would do anything to get his hands on you. He grits his teeth trying not to give away his hiding spot. He overhears your discussion but his eyes are more focused on you, and your current appearance.

"Hey, has that prick Owens come to bug you yet?” Adam’s voice is playful as you stifle an awkward laugh.

“Uh, not yet” your whole demeanor turns stiff as you try to lead him away from the bathroom door. Tyler rolls his eyes at the insult, he doesn’t like his competitors either, and the sentiment is usually very mutual.

“You know, Adam..” you brush your hand against his arm, continuing to try and lead him toward the door. He gives you a puzzled look as he’s not sure why you’re being so awkward.

Tyler watches you run your hand along his arm, his jaw clenching tight and his knuckles grow white as he tries to refrain from making a sound. He fights the urge to open the door and take you in his arms to pull you away from your partner.

“I’m a little tired..” you grimace while looking up at him, blocking his view to the bathroom. He squints his eyes looking toward the half closed door and he laughs.

“Y/N, is there someone in your bathroom?” His smile grows wide as he looks at your flushed face. “I’ll talk to you in the morning then,” you push him out the door, sighing as you lock it behind him.

Tyler rips the bathroom door open, coming out looking incredibly irritated and frustrated. His demeanor has changed as he stalks toward you, gently pinning you between his body and the wall. He places a hand against the wall next to you, taking a few seconds to look over your body.

“Does he talk to you like that a lot?” His voice is gruff, his usual cocky persona gone as he looks at you.

“Huh?” Your eyebrows furrow as you look up at Tyler, your hands grasping at his sides pulling him closer. “Talk to me like what?” You question. His frown deepens as he looks down at you.

“That goddamn cocky, arrogant bastard was hitting on you and you know it” he grumbles, anger seeping into his voice as he thinks back to how he was looking at you.

”Adam?” Your voice laced with confusion, “No way, he doesn’t think of me like that,” you lean forward, kissing his jaw gently. His eyes close as a low sigh leaves his lips, pulling you even closer.

“He was all but drooling over you right in front of me, there’s no way you didn’t notice it” he grits his teeth.

“Not even,” you kiss down his neck, “Adam is just a friend,” you mumble in between kisses. He lets out another low sigh while tilting his head to the side, giving you more access.

He pulls you on top of him as he sits down on the bed, trying to ignore the obvious and think of you instead. “I want you to be mine.” He whispers, his voice low and possessive. “All mine..” he groans while pulling you into a passionate kiss.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you deepen the kiss, moaning into his mouth as his hands wander your body, pulling you flush against him. You’re straddling his hips, your bare thighs brushing over his rough jeans.

His hands grip your hips tighter, needing you as close as he can manage. One arm wraps around your waist while his other hand grips your thigh. His thumb caresses your soft skin as he begins pulling you back and forth on his lap, trying to get as much pleasure out of the friction you create as he can.

Pulling away from the kiss you moan into his ear, satisfaction filling your body with the rough fabric against your pussy. Your hips match his movements as you grind down on him one hand slipping into his shirt as you feel his tense muscles.

A deep moan leaves his lips as your voice fills his ears, his hands grip you even tighter as you press down on him. His mind clouds with lust as he thinks about how tight you are under your lace panties.

He can’t hold himself back any longer, he leans forward and kisses your neck, sucking, biting and licking the sensitive skin leaving dark marks behind as his lips move down further. His hands spread your thighs, slipping one into the hem of your panties, moving up and down your stomach and trailing to your wetness.

“Oh fuck Tyler,” you moan loudly as his hand spreads your folds, his finger hitting your sensitive clit.

As Tyler's hand continues to explore your body, your mind races with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. But the desire burning within you is too strong to ignore. Tyler's touch ignites a fire deep within you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. You can't deny the way his fingers glide across your skin, sending shivers down your spine. It's a heady combination of taboo and forbidden desire that leaves you craving more.

"Fuck," you gasp, your voice laced with need. "I want you inside me."

Tyler smirks against your neck, his hot breath sending tingles down your spine. "Yeah, baby?" he purrs seductively. His words fuel your desire even further as you arch into his touch, wanting to feel him buried deep inside you. But hesitation lingers in the back of your mind - fear that crossing this line will lead to consequences neither of you are prepared for.

You can't help but let out a moan of satisfaction as Tyler's fingers glide inside you. The friction against your clit and the pressure inside you are driving you wild. You arch your back, pushing yourself closer to him, desperate for more.

But just as you're about to reach the edge, a flicker of hesitation crosses your mind. The reality of what you're doing hits you like a ton of bricks, and doubt creeps in. You question your actions, wondering if this is really worth it.

"Fuck," you groan, your voice filled with both pleasure and uncertainty. "Is this really a good idea Tyler?”

Tyler's hand freezes in its motion, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. He knows that he's pushing boundaries, and he doesn't want to push you too far. Especially since he’s been dreaming of this day since he met you.

“Is everything okay?” You know that you’ve already crossed the line so there’s no going back. You nod.

“Yes, please make me cum,” you whine, “I’m so close…” you grind against his hand, your nails digging into his shoulders. The sound of Tyler's voice is music to your ears, fueling your desire even further. Your hips continue their frantic work, desperate for release.

Tyler smirks, reveling in the power he holds over you. He knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you crave him with every fiber of your being. He leans back against the headboard, as he watches you writhing in anticipation. "You're mine," he says with a devilish grin. "And I'm going to make you beg for it."

Your breath hitches at his words, excitement mingling with a hint of apprehension. You know that you're about to surrender yourself completely to this pleasure, but a small part of you wonders if you can handle what's coming next. He lays down underneath you and begins to slip your panties off. He guides your hips towards his face, you hesitate. “Ty, are you sure?”

"Oh, baby," he chuckles darkly, his voice dripping with lust. "I'm sure about it. I've been waiting for this moment since the day we met." Your mind races with conflicting thoughts as you hesitate, torn between your desire to give in and the nagging voice of reason in the back of your head. But there's no denying the raw desire that courses through her veins.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's about to come. With trembling hands, you slowly lower yourself onto Tyler's waiting face. The sensation is overwhelming - his warm breath against your clit sends shivers down your spine while his tongue traces delicate patterns along her folds.

Tyler moans softly into your pussy as you begin riding him, grinding against his lips with an intensity that borders on desperation. Your walls tighten around his fingers with each stroke, building up the anticipation until you can no longer hold back.

"Fuck," you moan, your voice strained with pleasure. "I can't. I can't take it anymore."

Tyler smirks up at you, his eyes glinting with triumph as he continues to devour you with fervor. He knows he's pushing your limits, pushing you to the edge of your sanity. But he also knows that this is what they both crave - the raw intensity of their desires colliding head-on.

You arch your back, urging him on with a mix of need and frustration. Your hips move in a desperate rhythm, grinding against his face as you teeter on the precipice of climax.

Tyler senses your impending release and increases his intensity, his tongue swirling around your clit in a relentless dance of pleasure. The sounds of their combined moans fill the room as you edge closer to the edge.

“Fuck, fuck,” you moan, biting down on the headboard in front of you as Tyler continues to hold your ass tight, forcing your hips down against his mouth as he licks up all your cum.

He moves your hips and sets you down on his chest, wiping away the juices left on his chin. “You taste so good baby”, crawling off of him you slip between his thighs. Your fingers fumble with his belt buckle, pulling it off as you undo his jeans. You slide them down his legs and pull his hard cock out of his boxers.

With the passion raging inside of you, you take a moment to appreciate the sight of his erect cock standing proudly before you. The air in the room is thick with desire, and the anticipation of what’s about to happen is almost unbearable. You lean down and kiss the tip of his dick, tasting the precum beading at the top.

Tyler's hands find their way into your hair, guiding you as you take him into your mouth. His hips jerk upwards as you start to suck, the pleasure evident in his deep, guttural moans. You feel a sense of power as you control his pleasure, your own need for release momentarily forgotten. As you deep throat him, your eyes never leave his, watching the storm of emotions playing out across his face.

The rivalry and tension between you two has always been palpable, but in this moment, it's transformed into something far more intimate and explosive. With the head of his cock bobbing against the back of your throat, you begin to suck harder and faster, feeling his thighs tense beneath you. Tyler's grip on your hair tightens, his moans growing louder and more desperate as he nears the brink of climax.

You can feel his cock pulsing in your mouth, and you know he's close. You reach down with one hand to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you deep throat him again. His hips buck up, and he lets out a strangled groan, his eyes squeezing shut. You keep going, determined to make him cum, to show him just how much power you have over him at this moment.

You feel his cock swell even more, and with one final, deep suck, Tyler's body goes rigid. He cums hard, filling your mouth with his hot, salty release. You swallow it all down, feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and victory. As you pull away, Tyler's eyes open, a look of pure bliss and surprise on his face. He's never felt anything quite like this before, and the intensity of the experience leaves him momentarily speechless.

With a renewed hunger, Tyler sits up, his eyes never leaving yours as he runs his hands up your body, feeling the heat of your skin. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight of your bare breasts, the rosy tips of your nipples standing erect with arousal. His thumbs graze them, watching as they pebble even further under his touch.

With a groan, he pulls you closer, his mouth claiming one peak while his other hand squeezes the other. You throw your head back, your hips rolling against his hardened length. His tongue flicks and swirls around your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

The feeling is exquisite, and you can't help but let out a whimper of pleasure. He switches to the other, giving it the same rough treatment, his hands roaming your back and sides, leaving trails of fire wherever they go. Your pussy is soaking wet, and you can feel the heat of his cock against your stomach. The anticipation is agonizing, and you start to rock your hips against him, desperate for more.

With a growl of desire, Tyler lines up his cock with your dripping entrance. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, but all he sees is a mirror of his own need. He pushes into you slowly, inch by inch, watching as your eyes widen with pleasure.

You gasp as he fills you completely, the sensation of being stretched and filled by your rival's cock sending shockwaves through your body. He starts to move, his strokes long and gentle, his eyes never leaving yours. His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking your nipples as he kisses you deeply. The room is filled with the sweet symphony of your muffled moans and the slick sound of skin on skin.

The tension between you two has morphed into something beautiful and consuming. Tyler's movements become more deliberate, his hips rocking into you with a passion that speaks volumes about his feelings. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your body responding to every thrust with a roll of your hips.

As he kisses your neck and whispers sweet nothings into your ear, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this is what you've been craving all along. Tyler's strokes become more urgent, his grip on your hips tightening as he drives himself deep inside you. With a final, powerful thrust, he cums inside of you, filling you with his warmth. The room falls silent, save for the sound of the rain and your panting breaths.

For a moment, you just stay like that, your bodies entwined as you both come down from the intense high. Tyler's eyes are closed, his head resting on your shoulder, and his heart hammers against your chest. He pulls out slowly, and you feel a strange sense of loss as he does. But then he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close for a gentle cuddle. It's a stark contrast to the fiery passion that just consumed you both, but somehow, it feels right.

As you lay there, feeling the aftershocks of your shared climax, Tyler whispers something in your ear that makes your heart skip a beat. "You know, Y/N, all these years of chasing storms... I think I've just realized what I've really been after." He pauses, his voice thick with emotion. "You. You're all I've ever been chasing."

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. You're stunned into silence, unable to believe what you've just heard. But as you look into his eyes, you see the raw truth of his confession, and it hits you like a bolt of lightning. Despite the competition, the rivalry, and the tension that's always been between you, there's something undeniable here. Something that transcends the storms you both pursue.

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words to respond. But all you can manage is a soft "Me too, Tyler. Me too." And with that, you both sink into the warmth of the bed, the thunder outside a distant echo of the passion that just roared through you.Your head resting against his chest as the both of you fall into a deep sleep.

[rene-darling]

ACCIDENTALLY- walking in on them pleasing themselves to you

Adeptus reader in xiao's part, no pronouns are mentioned for the reader so ig it's gn!reader., just wanna let y'all know REQUESTS are OPEN so feel free to choose from The list of fandoms I do (yes I do more than genshin)

Xiao...tighnari...cyno...scaramouche

Xiao

He doesn't know what's gotten into him he was doing his normal patrol of liyue until he heard some strange noises of grunts and moans it seemed like someone was hurt!

As he got closer he saw them doing- things it's not the first time he's accidentally stumbled upon humans partaking in such activities but for some reason, this was stuck in his head he couldn't help it he just- couldn't forget about it...

His mind wandered to maybe you doing those things with him...how would you look?would you...even want to do such a thing with the likes of him, either way, he couldn't control his mind from wandering

This brings him to now as he slowly strokes his hard cock small whines leaving his mouth his mind was clouded with pleasure which is why he made his next mistake

Throwing his head back while arching his back he let out a louder-than-usual scream and accidentally let your name out "A-ah..y/n!"

In a split second, the room was covered in smoke when you appeared "yes xia-" "..." "..." "y-y/n!" xiao was startled as he grabbed the nearest thing to him and attempted to cover himself "..xiao" you were..shocked to say the least catching the ever so stern yaksha jerking it off...and to you?? "thi-this I mean uhm" was it just you or was his pretty cock leaking even more...

Xiao would have teleported outside the room the second you appeared but to his dismay, he was naked.

"I- I'm sorry I didn't mean to s-say" you wear mesmerized by him anything and everything he said went in one ear and out the other you couldn't help yourself staring at his naked body he was so pretty!! "..stop staring...please" xiao was embarrassed but he was increasingly becoming nervous too you were staring at him like some predator who was gonna swallow him whole

You slowly made your way onto the bed while xiao stared intently at you backing up until his back hit the bed frame "hey xiao, that was my name you were yelling right." "..mhm..i-im sorry I-ah!" you gently grabbed his cock which was poorly hidden by some sheets- "so you won't mind if I do this right."

The poor yaksha shivered and sobbed for the rest of the night truly, his darkest fantasies came to life..

Tighnari

He can't help it okay! You just smell so good and it's mating season for the fennec fox!! Every time you hold his hand, come a little closer to his face than usual he swears you're doing this on purpose!

He's been held up in his room for who knows how long with a thick dildo stuck up his ass as he pounds it ruthlessly into his hole

Collei's been getting a little worried about tighnari he's been in his room for so long! She's worried so she asks you to go check on him which you gladly accept

You slowly open the door to his residence it's dark with some light shining it takes a few seconds for you to adjust your eyes "tighnari..?" WHAM something lands on your face as tighnari lets out a loud girly shriek! You stumble around a little until you find the lights turning them on you look around when you're greeted with the sight of a naked tighnari trying desperately to cover up

Your eyes land on the floor where you finally see the object he threw at you...a cum covered green dildo...

For what feels like an eternity you two just stare at each other..."i-ill just take my leave" tighnaris so embarrassed you saw him like that! And instead of being sexy and shaking his ass or something- he-...he threw a fucking fake dick at you!! " archons please kill me"

He ignores you the rest of the week and doesn't interact with you running away every time he sees you with his face all red, of course until his heat gets too unbearable and he begs you to fuck him!! You say yes of course who could say no to him while he's whining and crying like that!

Cyno

Even the great general mahamatra needs to load of stress once in a while tho what he didn't expect is you walking in on him

It's been a long week of catching criminals he's tired. And lately, you just seem to get more and more desirable he can't help but get all sweaty palmed when he sees you!!

He knows he shouldn't do this here- in his office of all places someone might walk in...and someone did

He's clenching a picture of you in a bathing suit you teasingly gave him "in case you need something to think about while jerking off" he didn't think he would actually use it but...

His groans are soft and quiet making sure he doesn't disturb anyone "general maha-...matra" "y/-y/n! I-i um" in his utter shock he drops the photo he had of you and your eyes slowly look down a stunned expression on your face as you stare down at it

"I-" he doesn't want you thinking he's a perv!! "i-im sorry! Please forgive me I don't know what got into me-" he was closing his eyes too afraid of the look you might give him

You were quiet it was almost deafening slowly he opened his eyes and to his shock and horror you were right there in front of him "general I have great respect for you so I won't tell anyone what I've seen today...but in return, you should give me something as an apology- don't you think?" he was so embarrassed he was sure he was as red as a tomato! "mhm- yes I'm sorry anything-"

Cyno let out a huge gasp as you picked him up. And slammed him onto the table

"I think this will be more than enough- make sure to stay quiet now..."

Scaramouche

Scarmouche is a puppet he doesn't have sexual desires! But...there's just something about- you. it makes him crazy, mad deranged even though he can't put his finger on it but he's obsessed

Every time you hold his hand or even sit next to him he gets all hot!! So this is your fault he's in no way responsible for what he's doing if it weren't for you-...he wouldn't have ever discovered such carnal desires!

You're always teasing him about his sheer suit and how he should be careful or "bad men" are gonna rip it open or when sitting and talking to the traveler you rub his thighs up and down occasionally stopping to rub and group them

He pinches his cute puffy pink nipples as humps a pillow he's not even trying to be quiet he can't help it he's in too far deep

"wanderer- are you okay-..." gasping he stared at you all red and flustered "I-i...this- this is your fault!!" "?? What h-how is this my fault?!" "yo-you! You're always teasing me a-and i-i!" poor darling. He Starts to sob! He can't take it you've been teasing him and now you're rejecting it!! "I-its your fault s-so take responsibility a-and...help me" "i-i wait what did you say at the end?"

He can't take it! You're being dense on purpose, aren't you!! "I said help me goddamit" he gasped and let out a whine when you grabbed him by the throat "see that wasn't so hard now was it? You don't have to be such a bitch about it, if you wanna get fucked dumb then just say it nicely."

"p-please.." it was quite a long night after that.

[journeyman-tier-fibercraft]

Seconding all of this. Esp yarn weight, anything above aran makes my hands hurt.

For reference I have scoliosis and osteoarthritis. So a bit part of comfortable knitting for me is posture/back alignment. I personally have to have my elbows resting on something to comfortably knit and I’ve seen pillows specifically marketed to rest your arms on while knitting (which sadly don’t help me but could easily help someone with a less picky spine lmao). Hobbii sells a version here for an example of what they look like but you could probably find something similar for cheaper, maybe a body pillow?

A good option is to play around with different styles of knitting. I first started knitting continental for speed but once I got used to it I found it hurt my hands significantly less than what I was doing before. Norwegian purling for ribbing or swapping to Portuguese style knitting for long purl sections could be helpful if you’re having problems with moving between knit stitch and purl stitch.

Types of needle also can play a part, at least for me. Straight needles are hell on my wrists and wood/plastic needles make my tension too tight which hurts my joints. It’s worth experimenting with different needles if you can, when I first started knitting I spent a lot of time in thrift stores looking for a bunch of different needles just to try them.

Also don’t be afraid to picked seamed projects. Knitting a whole blanket or even a sweater seamlessly might be easier, but having to lift and turn a whole queen sized blanket is Not Great. Having to mattress stitch for 4 hours isn’t my idea of fun but I find it’s a lot easier on my body long term than the alternative.

Hi, you said in your bio that you're chronically ill. I was wondering if you had any tips for knitting with chronic pain (assuming that's your flavour of chronic illness)? Or do you know anyone who could give me advice?knitting/sewing is my sanity-saver.

I use compression gloves, only knit with specific weights of yarn (the ones that are the least painful for me), and try to take frequent breaks, which for me looks like switching hobbies every 30 minutes or so (knitting to spinning to knitting, etc). I also do my best to be very gentle on my joints when i can, altho i honestly rarely have the choice at work.

Personally i have joint problems and migraines, so thats what im correcting for/trying not to make worse. Helpful advice probably varies depending on what youre trying to correct for. Really my only general advice is "when it starts to hurt, try to stop" and "if possible, save the painfully difficult stuff for when youre doing well, and make the easier stuff your usual work"

If anyone who sees this has got other tips please feel free to comment them