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flemingsfreckles · 3 days

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Physio’s Daughter pt.5

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read the previous parts HERE

Warnings: cursing

WC: 4.0k

A/N: hi :) enjoy (if you’re reading this the same day it was posted and want to help make a decision on the future of this story go vote on the poll on my feed)

The players ended up with way more downtime than the staff during the week before you all left for Paris they were really only responsible for keeping their bodies ready to play and showing up to get on the plane. You and the rest of the staff had meetings, more paperwork, you all had to pack your equipment away, it took more hours of your time than you had expected.

This meant you had to turn down Jessie on three different occasions when she asked you to coffee.

The first time Jessie shook off the rejection. Not thinking much about it, you were obviously busy with work and didn’t have the time that day.

“I’m wrapping up here. Want to grab a coffee this afternoon?” She stuck her head into your office.

“I would Jessie but I’m not out of here until 5 tonight. Plus should we be grabbing coffee?” You give her a questioning look. You had agreed to friends now, friends grabbed coffee but it felt like a gateway to something more with her.

“Oh, okay, sorry I didn’t realize you had to work so late.”

She shook you off, walking back over to her locker to grab her stuff and leave for the day, having to stop alone for coffee.

She didn’t stop asking, one thing about that girl, she loved to stop by your office and she also loved to get coffee.

“Coffee? Do you have a lunch break at some point?” Jessie’s head once again swung around your office door early in the morning when players were released for a couple hours break before having to return in the evening for film.

You sigh throwing your hands up, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you “I’m supposed to get a lunch but I think I have more travel paperwork to do during that time, I don’t know Kelly from the administration called and-”

“Don’t worry about it.” You notice the tight lipped half smile she gives you. You so badly wanted to say fuck it to the paperwork and go get coffee with Jessie, you’d get coffee with that woman every second of every day if you could. But you had work. You were at work and she was your coworker.

Insistent on getting you to say yes, Jessie offers another plan. “What about tomorrow morning since it’s a later start? Before we come in?”

“Tomorrow I have to be here at normal times, it’s just you guys who get to come in late.” You give her a frown.

“Look if you don’t want to come to coffee with me, that’s okay, just say that though.” Her voice is quiet but she looks frustrated with you. Her eyebrows furrowed, upset lines on her forehead.

“No! Jessie, I do! I do want to get coffee with you, just, this isn’t a great week. I’ve still got a ton of work to get done before we leave. As the newbie on the staff I get all the simple but time consuming work no one else wants. Unfortunately the next few weeks will be just as crazy for both of us.”

“Okay.” She turns to leave “I’m sorry for bothering you.” Before you can really stop her to explain that she’s not a bother and honestly the short chats you get with her are the highlight of your day, she exits the door. And you're left alone in your office, a massive pile of paperwork to still get done.

With only two days left before you had to fly to Paris you were trying to get most of your work done today. You didn’t want to have to deal with work and the stress of packing tomorrow. You curse yourself for not packing sooner. You end up in the office until it’s dark outside checking your watch and seeing it was 7:30 at night. Your mom had left the office two hours ago, giving you a kiss on the head and telling you not to stay up too late.

You focus in, getting tunnel vision on the paperwork, racing through the stack of papers, until your phone goes off.

Jessie Fleming: what time do you have to be in tomorrow?

A text from Jessie has your phone vibrating in your lap. You pick it up and respond, wondering why she would need to know.

You: 5:30

You: Do you need treatment? Is your calf alright?

Jessie Fleming: So the facility will be open at 5:30? Calf is fine but I’m trying to get in some extra recovery and stretching, feeling a bit tight after today's work.

You: Yeah it should be, for all I know I might still be here when you show up.

Jessie Fleming: You’re still there?

You: I am

You: sent an image

You send Jessie a selfie of you, smiling in your desk chair, a significantly smaller stack of papers than she saw you with earlier in the day.

Jessie Fleming: sent an image

The image is her, in what you assumed was her Canadian apartment bed, a soft smile on her face, her head resting on a pillow with light gray cover on it. What also stands out to you is the way her sheet is pulled up, just under her collarbones. You can see her collarbones, she wasn’t wearing a shirt.

You: Why are you in bed this early?

You: Do you sleep shirtless?

You regret hitting send on the second message when you actually see that she’s typing.

Jessie Fleming: That’s professional to ask

Jessie Fleming: But yes

Jessie Fleming: Most of the time

Jessie Fleming: Obviously not when I have travel roommates or anything, but I’m in my own place for the next few days so I’m enjoying it before a lot of hotels with Janine.

Jessie Fleming: And I’m in bed because I’m watching a documentary and I’ve been told to get as much sleep as I can by the training staff at work.

Jessie Fleming: Especially this new young girl, she has been on my case about taking care of myself and whatever, but she’s cute so I gave her a pass.

The mention of Janine has your mind thinking back to the other day, Janine grabbing Jessie and whispering to her before she gave you a look that felt like she suddenly knew everything. You wanted to ask Jessie about it but now probably wasn’t the best time.

You: I sleep like that too, more comfortable

You: I’m sure that girl is just looking out for you.

Jessie Fleming: I know, right? I tried to tell that to so many of my teammates, none of them listen.

Jessie Fleming: stop texting me, go back to work so you can go home.

You: you’re the one texting me

Jessie Fleming: shhhhh

You: 🙄

You put your phone away, putting it on silent so there was no temptation to text Jessie, having no idea if she had responded. You finish your paperwork, finally standing up your back and knees both cracking as you stretch. You check you phone as you walk to the car, seeing it was 8:22. You’d have to go home, get dinner, shower, all to get up at 4:30 to be at work by 5:30.

A message from Jessie sits on your screen. You debate texting her back but you don’t want to wake her if she’s already gone to sleep.

Jessie Fleming: Have a good night, hope you’re not at work too late :)

When you sit back at your desk the next morning you feel deja vu, feeling like you never left. The only difference is there is no longer a pile of work in front of you, you thank yourself for staying to complete it all last night. You lean forward letting your head rest on your desk for a moment.

“Hi!” Jessie comes around the corner of your office, sounding way too chipper for 5:30 in the morning, but then again she was able to be in bed at 7:30. You look up to her to see her carrying two coffees. She approaches you and sticks her hand out offering you one of the drinks. You were so grateful, you had opted for 5 minutes of extra sleep in the morning instead of getting a coffee and you were starting to regret that decision.

“Should you really be showing up to my office with coffee? You do remember what happened last time you did that, right?” You question her, squinting at her across your desk and sending a glance to the wall where she had pinned you.

“Maybe that’s why I’m doing it, maybe I liked what happened last time.” She pauses, tilting her head, thinking back to the memory. “Except not when your Mom walked in, I didn’t like that, that was terrifying.” A quick grimace follows by a smile comes across her face.

“Jessie, we can’t.”

“I know, I know.” She sounds defeated. “I just figured since going out for coffee doesn’t really fit into your schedule right now, I’d just bring it to you. I promise I’m not trying to get anything out of you.” She sits down in the seat across from you.

“How late were you here last night?” Jessie’s phone buzzes on the table, she ignores it.

“Just before 9.”

“Oh wow, I was asleep by then.” You envy her early bedtime.

“Yeah so I am incredibly grateful for this, thank you.” You shake your coffee cup as her phone lights up with another notification. This time your eyes trail to it. You’re not trying to look at her messages but you just can’t help but glance at the lit up screen.

Jessie noticed your eyes' quick movement toward her phone, “Sorry that’s just Janine, I told her I was coming in to do some early recovery and she’s giving me a hard time about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s just teasing me.” She pauses, “about you.” She uses her coffee cup in her hand to point at you.

“Oh, did you tell her? She gave me a weird look the other day, after you came back and we hugged in the training room, you two walked out together and she sort of stared at me. So did you tell her? About the kiss I mean?” Finally getting an appropriate time to ask what was up with Janine’s look.

“It may have slipped out, one of the times I was talking about you. But she’s been teasing me about you since before that.” Jessie looks down to type back to Janine on her phone.

“Jessie!” Her head snapped back up when she heard you scolding her name. Knowing someone else knows about your kiss, someone you didn’t yet know well enough, makes you uneasy. “You can’t just be telling people that!”

“It’s Janine, she’s my best friend, she knows me too well, she knew something happened and asked. I didn't think it would be a big deal, she’s not going to tell anyone.” Jessie defends herself.

“I get that you think that Jessie, but if she slips up, next thing the whole team knows, then it gets out, you’ll get in trouble for sleeping with the student trainer, who’s 4 years younger than you.” You were spiraling, you’re not sure if you believe what you’re saying or if your mom had just scared you into it. You didn’t want your own career to be at risk and you definitely didn’t want Jessie getting in trouble.

“We haven’t slept together, plus you’re an adult, it’s not like I’m 20 and you’re 16! We’re both grown.”

“I know that, but good luck telling that to anyone else, they won’t listen!”

“I really didn’t mean to tell her, it just sort of slipped out and I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be an issue.” Jessie crosses her arms across her chest, she feels less warm than usual, less friendly, less inviting.

Only, it felt like it was a problem that she had told people. You weren’t sure why Jessie would think it was okay to go around telling people about your kiss without at least checking in with you. A small bubble of frustration with the woman sitting across from you started to build.

“Jessie, if people find out I could get fired! Sure, it might temporarily make your image bad but you’re too damn good, you’ll stay Captain, you’ll keep getting your call ups, keep being desired by different clubs, it won’t ruin your career like it could mine.”

“Nothing is going to get out, nothings going to happen, it’s not that big of a deal!” Now Jessie is raising her voice at you slightly. She’s leaning across your desk.

“Maybe it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal that to you, but it is to me.” You yell back, thankful that no one else was in at the office yet. You take a breath realizing this argument was not something you needed to be doing at 5:30 in the morning. “You should probably go do your recovery. I have things to get done” You point to the doorway.

“Oh.” It’s obvious the sadness on Jessie’s face and in her voice. A sudden change from her argumentative demeanor. “Yeah, I’m going to do that.” She pushed back from your desk. “I’m sorry.”

You let her walk out without saying anything. She doesn’t close your office door on her way out. Feeling stupid about the argument, you let your forehead come crashing back onto your desk with a loud thud, a lot harder than you intended.

“You okay?” You hear Jessie ask, hearing the sound of your head against your desk from the other room.

“Yeah, all good.” You groan back. You didn’t want her to care and feel the need to check on you. You know you shouldn’t care about he either but you can’t help yourself.

Despite being quite annoyed with Jessie at the moment, you’re unable to look away every time she passes by your door, doing exercises or walking across the room to get equipment. Time goes on and then you hear her digging in the ice cooler, the sound of a plastic bag and some shuffling around.

“Stupid wrap.” Hearing her talking to herself you stand up from your chair, it was your job after all to help with these things. You see her struggling to hold and secure a bag of ice she had made to her calf.

“Let me help you.” You offer empty hands to take the ice bag from her, grabbing the wrap and squatting in front of her to help her get it tight on her leg.

“Thanks.” She gives you a smile, the way she was grinning looking down at you sent a shiver through your body.

“Is it still treating you okay?” You look up at her from where you’re kneeling in front of her.

“Yeah it’s been good, just being overly cautious with it still, that’s why I’m doing all this.” She points down where your hands were wrapping the ice bag. You just nod, returning your focus to what you were doing instead of staring up at the girl’s pretty brown eyes.

You let the silence sit between the two of you for only a second before you break it.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted in the office just now. I think I’m just a little paranoid, we’re adults, we’re allowed to do what we’re doing technically. I just didn’t think you’d be going around talking about me and the fact that you kissed me.” You stand up.

“To be fair, I’m not going around talking about you to everyone, it’s really just been to Janine, she made some comments about you before we had even really talked much, she knows me too well. She knew I was interested, so she made some comments about me finding you pretty to which I blushed and she was onto me right away apparently I’m not great at hiding my crushes.” She looks down at her feet.

“I just freaked out, knowing that someone else knows that you had me against the wall, in my office.”

“If it helps, she doesn’t know I pinned you to the wall.” Jessie’s face is now a bright red. It’s suddenly very obvious to you how close the two of you we’re standing, face to face. It’s apparent that you can make out all the little details of her face, where each freckle sat across her nose and cheeks, you could see it all. Despite still being upset and frustrated with Jessie for telling Janine about your previous kiss, you suddenly don’t care and have the desire to kiss her all over again.

“Jessie.” You stare at her lips while saying her name. You don’t know if she noticed you’re staring, but her tongue runs over her bottom lip, wetting it.

“What?”

“Don’t, what, me. You know what.” Your eyes don’t move from Jessie’s lips.

“No I don’t. You’ll have to enlighten me.” You do, leaning in your hands finding her face you pull her toward you. Your lips meet hers, they’re warm and soft and plump against yours. Her hands find your hips, pulling you against her hard. Her grip is tight, it feels safe. This time you’re able to finish your kiss, both of you pulling away just before you debate sliding your tongue against her lips.

“You really should stop bringing coffee to my office I guess, it always seems to end like this.” You let out once you both breathe for a second. Jessie lets out a soft laugh.

You hear the door to the training room open and you jump away from Jessie, turning to pretend to organize something, finding nothing, everything already being packed up. This leaves you just standing there looking at the wall. You and Jessie both look over to see Janine standing there, coffee in one hand, training bag in the other and a smirk across her face.

“Well you two aren’t suspicious at all.” She says sarcastically as she walks from the doorway further into the training room and in your direction. “I’d recommend actually doing something to make it look like you two weren’t just doing what I think you were.” You can’t read her tone as she speaks to you. “Looking at imaginary things on the wall doesn’t really work as a good cover.” She stops behind you to speak softly only to you. You stay facing the wall, not wanting to turn and let either of the players in the room see how bright red your cheeks are.

“I’m going to go change, I’ll be back in probably 5 minutes, behave yourselves.” Janine says to both of you, she walks away into the changing room.

“Whoops.” You turn back to look at Jessie who is still standing where you kissed her. You both have matching blushes on your face.

“At least it wasn’t my mom this time.” You shrug at her, trying to make light of the situation again.

“I guess,” she shrugs back.

“But seriously Jessie, we can’t keep doing this, we leave for Paris in less than 36 hours. You have to go, be focused, be this team's leader, we can’t, I can’t be distracting you.”

“I know.”

“So that means no more surprise coffees, no more private meetings, like Janine said, we have to behave. Strictly professional from now on. No more of this.” You use a finger to point between the two of you.

“Strictly professional, got it.” She nods at you but her smile tells you she’s not taking you seriously.

“I’m serious this time Jessie.” You try your best to be stern with her.

“So am I.” You were both lying through your teeth, and you both knew it but neither of you were going to call each other out and say anything.

“Or just until the Olympics are over.” You add, hoping she’ll maybe be interested in whatever the two of you were doing come the end of the games.

“Until it's over.” She flashes you a smile before turning to leave, following in the direction Janine went to change. She flashes you a smile before heading through the doors. You move back into your office leaning against the desk.

“Hey.” You jump as Janine flies around the corner of your office door. She walks in closing the door behind you.

“Okay I don’t have a lot of time, but I need to talk to you really quick.”

“What’s up?” You move behind the desk, looking for her file pulling it out. You start to open it and Janine’s hand comes down on it, closing the folder hard.

“This isn’t about me.” She’s staring down at you as you sink back into your chair.

You realized exactly what this was about. “Oh.”

“If you so much as hurt a hair on her head-”

“I won’t.” You interrupt.

“I wasn’t finished.” You nod, letting her finish. “Jessie is a special human and quite frankly she doesn’t need you. She’s perfect on her own, she’s strong and independent and she doesn’t need you, but she wants you, so I’m going to respect that, but please let her focus on this tournament. I don’t know what you two are really doing, she’s been pretty tight lipped, but please. She’s smart but she might not think straight with her crush brain, she might think she can handle starting something with you during this tournament, but she can’t. She needs to be focused. She’d hate herself down the line if she let someone get in her head and mess with her playing. She’s worked her life for these tournaments. This team needs her focused, not distracted because of you.” Janine rants at you.

“I know. We’ve discussed it. I won’t be a distraction to her or to anyone. I promise, I want what’s best for her and the whole team.” You mean it, you want what’s best for the team, and you don’t want to distract Jessie or anyone, you saw how hard they all worked and would hate to be the reason anything went wrong.

“You seem like a good person, and given that Jessie likes you so much, you must be. So I’m going to trust you.” Her hand comes off the file on your desk.

“Janine! Come play Teqball with me!” Jessie hollers through the training room.

“Ahh the queen of Canada awaits.” Janine says, looking at you. She turns to leave, her hand on the doorknob. “Just so you know, I’m serious, don’t hurt her, I’ll make your life miserable.” The way she spoke with still a large smile while telling you she’d ruin your life was slightly terrifying, but very much fitting for her Canadian personality.

“I know.” You just nod. And you did know. It wouldn’t just be Janine coming after you if you messed up with Jessie her entire team would hate you. If you distracted her from the tournament the country of Canada would hate you. You’d never get to work for a Canadian team, you’d never get to live that down. Your nerves build up a bit, even though you had no intentions to hurt Jessie ever, things happen, life happens.

Your spiral of nerves is diminished as you hear Jessie’s laugh carrying through the room. Just her laugh made you smile, your nerves ease. You were in deep, probably in too deep, but there wasn’t anything you could do now, except go to Paris and do your best to just be coworkers with Jessie. You needed to be invisible and not a distraction..

So that’s what you did. Or at least tried to do.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader

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danikamariewrites · 23 hours

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Babying Azriel Headcanon

Azriel x reader

A/n: just some hc about showing Az some love. I’ve missed writing just for Azzy so enjoy this

Warnings: none

In public and in front of the IC Azriel is very affectionate with you

He does not shy away from PDA

But behind closed doors this male CLINGS to you

Like he is so in love with you it’s not even funny and you make sure Az knows he is loved

You basically pavloved him into needing your touch

You always throw our self at him when he comes him, jumping into his arms and telling him how happy you are to have him home and in your arms

He doesn’t move from the entry way unless he sees you running at him

Az does understand that you won’t always be home when he gets there and he does come home late some nights

He does get sad when you can’t hug him first thing though

Whenever he frowns it breaks your heart. You always have to fix that immediately

Az came home from Windhaven with his brothers one evening, just in time for dinner. Nyx had ran up to his dad and uncle with you trailing not far behind. You waited until the little boy greeted them for you to throw yourself at Az. He looked so worn down you considered not throwing yourself into his arms. Once Az saw you his face lit up! He stood ready, arms open and knees bent a little, ready to pick you up and hold you tight to his chest.

You launch yourself at him, jumping and wrapping your arms and legs around Azriel. “Azzy! I missed you!” You place kisses all over his face. He doesn’t care that Cassian and Rhys are watching. Azriel basks in your love and attention. Once you’re done he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your calming scent. Cass and Rhys’s jaws drop as you talk to him in a babying voice that you use when you’re alone. You just can’t help it!

Kisses kisses kisses all of the kisses for Az always!

Frowning? Kisses all over his face until he’s giddy

Before bed kisses or he cannot sleep

Sometimes you’ll jokingly forget, just rolling over and saying goodnight sweetly. “AH” Az yells, “where is my goodnight kiss little miss?” You giggle, “Huh? What are you talking about?” Az pulls you on top of him and he kisses you hard, never letting up until you hold him back

Morning kisses and goodbye kisses before he leaves for training/work. “Bye Azzy, I love you.” You say pecking his lips quickly. Az isn’t fully satisfied with your little peck, pulling you by your waist flush to his front he kisses you deeply

You’re the own who’s supposed to flustering him! When he lets go your cheeks are pink and you’re out of breath, waving goodbye as he sends you a wink while leaving

Packing him lunch if he’s out all day even if it’s just at the house of wind

You add a note with his food telling him how much you love him

Az swears his teeth are going to fall out if you keep baking him treats. But he would be so sad if you ever stopped baking or packing him lunches with little notes he would cry his eyes out

You make sure all of his weapons are clean and organized

I know for a fact Azriel likes things clean and organized and if he had a label maker he would use the shit out of it

When he comes home from long missions you don’t let him lift a finger! That is unacceptable, he’s just spent days Mother knows where, in an uncomfortable spot and is disgusting

You always have a bath ready for him along with a towel that you warmed by the fire

You wash his hair and massage his neck and shoulders. He washes himself though, he doesn’t want you doing all of the work

Most nights you insist on him laying on top of you because you like holding him close and running your fingers through his silky hair

When he’s sick Azriel really plays it up just to get more attention from you

You make him soup and tea, you even spoon feed him while he lays in bed

“I think I’m warm will you feel my forehead?” Az knows full well he’s burning up from his small fever he just wants to feel your cool hand on his skin. You make sure to touch his forehead and cup his cheeks

You tuck him in making sure he’s all warm and snuggly

When he’s feeling better he still acts sick for an extra day because he isn’t ready to leave the comfort of your care just yet

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel #azriel headcanons #azriel headcanon

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cute-sucker · 14 hours

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note: thank you @.princessbrunette for creating boxer!rafe !!

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

you clutched the pregnancy test, clammy hands shaking as you felt more scared than ever. rafe was still in his match, and you- you were forbidden from coming to his matches. the last time you came his opponent had made a pass at you after rafe brutally beat him.

the guy plummeted to the ground before he could utter another word, and rafe decided that enough was enough. so he sat you down, in your little cameo shorts and baby white tee. your thick lashes battered as he tried to come out the truth. the two of you were in the completely vacant locker room.

"listen, kid, i don't think you should come to my matches anymore," he said gently, as you gripped his arm. you had a sweet expression on your face before you heard what he had said - quickly wilting as you frowned at him. before you could open your mouth he had already cupped your face as softly as he could.

his hands were rough and warm on your face, you could smell the brutality on them, yet you felt yourself at ease in his embrace. you could never admit it - but rafe had some control over you that you could never explain.

"i know you're going to say it's your calling," he quipped, leaning in closer. his hot breath fanned your neck, as his mouth nipped at your cheek, "but baby i don't think this place is good for you." you felt yourself unwind and opened your mouth to blubber something.

you finally gasped out, "but i wanna see you!"

he groaned, steady hand moving down to your waist. there was an amused expression on his face, but he stayed firm.

"rafe? please."

"no."

that was it. so you got another job, and later on, rafe told you to stay at tanyhill with him. you were overjoyed that you would get to see him more and that he was being so gracious. all the girls in the ring had told you he was a playboy and nothing more than that. and you would never tell rafe but it was nice not being a ring girl. sure it was a way to get money fast, but your thighs ached from the amount of times you shined and plucked them.

but it wasn't just that. it was also the dark humid lights that dawned upon you, and trotting while people eyed you like a piece of meat. and now, you felt free, and while rafe would never understand why you chose it - you were a waitress.

the owner, delany liked you, so she didn't give you a hard time about anything. it was a cafe where time seemed to slow and it was as if nothing could go wrong. you got up early in the morning, giving rafe a goodbye kiss while he was in bed as he groaned about you leaving so early. you took life at strides. things were great.

but here it was. a sign that maybe everything was going to go to shit. be fine. your heartbeat quickened and you could barely breath - that was when you knew it was going to be bad. you could barely imagine yourself pregnant.

how old were you? 25? yeah, that was too young and quite frankly did rafe even want a baby? sure he mentioned it sometimes, when you went to baby showers and cooed a baby clothes. but would he-? it was another mouth to feed and god you didn't know if you could support that. rafe, sure, but if he left you? and it was an actual human being to love.

finally, you found yourself rushing out of the bathroom. you had to tell him now, as your heart was on fire, and your hands were stinging. quickly you gathered your stuff and headed over to delany.

"i have to go."

˚❀༉‧₊˚.

the ring was the same as usual. the same musty smell, and that feeling of everything being possible. you weren't recognised - though you did see a couple of familiar faces in the crowd. but you weren't here to chit-chat.

urgency drummed through your veins as you found rafe. 12:35. it was almost time for his first match, and you couldn't dump on him like that. no, you really could there was this feeling. this feeling that ran through you like wildfire as you stumbled to him.

he looked good, better than good, but he looked alarmed as you twisted yourself around his body.

"hey, hey kid," he laughed at you furiously hugging his middle, "i love that you're here but i told you about visiting me, didn't i? we had this conversation-" he was stopped right there as you kissed him, cupping his face. he was out of breath, pupils dilated when it finally set in.

maybe he saw the way you sweet doe eyes were welling up with tears, or the way you swayed in his arms as if he let you go you could crumble, or the way you were trying to mouth words, but nothing was coming out of your mouth. he furiously swore under his breath, and pulled you along with him - you followed like a puppy.

the dim lights of the corner he had pulled you in soothed your state. no longer did your skin ich, but your head still pounded. rafe looked down at you with a worried expression, as he rubbed your back. you were still holding on to him, wide-eyed.

"hey?" he snapped his fingers, "can't be doing that here. not right now. what's wrong?" he asked harshly, and you shook your head, completely nonverbal. he raised a hand through his buzzed hair, concern evident in his eyes. whenever you got like this- which was never he had to remind himself to be gentle.

finally, he dropped himself, voice quiet. he didn't care if people saw him like this- all vulnerable. "sweets are you okay?" he probed again. finally with trembling hands, you reached out into your bag to get the pregnancy test- and broke into tears. the two double lines spread fear throughout his heart.

rafe had changed. that was a fact, he no longer was plagued by his fathers words as much as before. but could he be a father? suddenly he looked down at you, wispy lashes wet, and doe eyes pleading. suddenly, he felt something blossom in his heart. he imagined you running around in tannyhil, round with his kid. you would be wearing a pretty sun dress, as laughter rang through you.

finally, he closed his eyes, "it's gonna be okay."

you seemed to take that as a bad sign, gasping out muffled words, "no, rafe, i didn't know what was going to happen, please-" your hand reached out for his, hoping that things were going to be okay.

rafe was still looking at the test, as he closed and opened his mouth before shaking his hand, "we're gonna get married, all right? yeah, and i want you to stay here with me. 'cause i need you here." he said tapping your head. there was a watery smile on your face, as you jumped into his arms.

he held you tightly, and you sniffed. before letting go of him to look into his eyes. it was at that moment that you realised how much he loved you. when he's staring at you like you are his world, and his steel eyes are soft. when his eyes are welling up with tears.

"just really happy and shit," he chuckled, "i can't believe this," he murmured out before pressing his lips on yours. finally, he pulled apart from you, still gazing into your eyes.

"you should go," you found yourself whispering out "it's time for your match." yet your hand found a deathly hold on him. t

you saw him smile, and give you a peck on the lips, "want you to watch, 'kay? i'm fighting this match for you," and then his hands travelled down to your stomach, "you and baby."

dazed you watched him step up into the ring and sighed. if this was love, you'd fight for it any day.

226 notes · View notes

rush-the-stars · 2 days

Text

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART I

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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.5k || ao3 || Part II -> coming soon! || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

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✧ SPRING FEVER collab masterlist ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader if you squint, biting, blood, marking, eventual forced bathing in later parts, eventual forced feeding in later parts, eventual smut in later parts; masturbation, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: this is for @lorelune 's SPRING FEVER collab!! i have been working on this for awhile now and i am excited to share it! this should be about 3 parts...i am very close to finishing the whole thing so i should be releasing a part a week for the next two weeks!

thank you for reading!! i would love to hear your thoughts <333

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“I think you’d be perfect.”

Suguru’s voice is a caress, low and soft, as he sits across from you.

Somehow, he always makes you feel like he is just beneath the surface of your skin, even if there is a respectable distance between you. He always makes you feel as if he is lurking somewhere in the lowest parts of you, pulling at strings you once thought hidden to yourself.

You’ve kept your distance for this reason.

You swallow hard.

And then you manage to get your voice to unstick, to find it somewhere inside of you and bring it to life. It’s firmer than you’re anticipating and you’re proud;

“I don’t think I would be.”

Suguru looks at you in a way that makes you feel as if he’s seeing through you, pulling you open slowly to gaze at all the inner workings of you. His dark eyes are keen, so sharp, even if they’re shaded by half-lidded lashes.

He smiles pleasantly and indulges you, but you know he believes very firmly that he is, in fact, right, “why not?”

“I told you when I agreed to join you—all I wanted in exchange for helping you, was to be an unbound Omega.” You force yourself to meet his eyes and to not get sucked into the dark tide of them.

“You asked for my protection.” He reminds you.

Your eyes flash this time, heated, a little spark that skitters to life inside of you.

“I didn’t—“

“Is that not what you’d call it?” Suguru asks, “when I interfered, every time, to be sure no other Alpha got to you? Or when I scented you to keep them away?”

Prickling warmth dots your cheeks, can feel at the back of your neck, too, the tips of your ears. You try a different tactic.

“I’m not a homemaker.”

His smile is soft, “I don’t want a homemaker.”

“I’m not obedient.” You counter again, as if you could dissuade Suguru Getou once he’s made up his mind.

“You’ve been quite good for me.” Suguru says smugly and this time, a little noise of embarrassment or frustration eeks out of you. A short, sharp little growl from your throat, almost a groan of irritation.

“I—I’m doing your dirty work. That’s our agreement! You give me assignments that I complete and in return, I get my freedom.”

“I don’t know why you’re so opposed to this. Is it not similar already to what we have now?” He asks simply, “I’d still let you roam, if that’s what you’re so scared of.”

“No it’s that—that power and mentality that I don’t want you to have over me.” You snap.

“I already have it,” he says and it isn’t intended to be cruel, but certainly is, “how long do you think you’d last, without the protection of an Alpha?”

“I didn’t have any before you.”

“You were starving, injured, and constantly on the run before me.” You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off, “it would still give you what you want.”

“I don’t want to be yours.” You say frankly, perhaps to be cruel yourself. And then you show teeth a little, flash them in warning, “I don’t want your mark.”

Suguru looks amused, if anything, by your display.

His smile is knowing and insufferable. It makes your anger ratchet up inside of you, hackles rising. You feel a little growl working its way out of your throat. It tears out of you in annoyance, when he says, “I don’t believe you.”

You slam the door so hard on its hinges that it rattles the entire wall. You wish it would rattle all the world.

***

Your cursed technique rips to life like a star exploding outwards.

Beast that you are, it overtakes you, transforms you until you are all claws and dripping, little fangs. Your body elongates, elegant, and built for speed, viciousness. The horns atop your head are sharp, too, curled the slightest into a crescent shape. The beast in you stretches and pulls at your bones, fits your skin to it in a way that you have come to know well.

(“Cursed technique: Cursed Creature,” Suguru hums, “allows you to turn into a cursed version of yourself, a sort of,” he pauses, looking you over, “monster?”

“That’s right.” You tell him, body trembling all over, in dire need of food. Care. Sleep.

He places a large hand on top of your head, strokes gently, until his hand nudges your cheek, beneath your chin so you are forced to look up into his eyes. Depthless violet.

“You have a deal.”)

The sorcerer is cast backward with the force of your transformation. In this form, everything heightens, sharpening into brilliance. So much brighter, clearer. So much more overwhelming.

You are a flash of darkness when you move, a mass of lethality.

The sorcerer doesn’t stand a chance, the moment you dash past him with a deep swipe of your claws, you know this will be an easy match. You chitter in this form, excited, warbly little sound erupting from you before you careen towards him again.

This time, he is warped away.

But you are fast, changing your trajectory mid-step to catch up to where he was warped.

Except, this time, a white haired sorcerer takes his place.

Your claws meet air.

A growling hiss erupts from your throat.

Satoru Gojo.

Suguru told you to stay away from him. At all costs.

And speak of the devil, your name is called, whistled almost. Your head turns to find Suguru appearing, too.

Faintly, the more human part of you wonders what the occasion is.

For a moment, all you can see is threat. Your hackles rise as your growling gets lower, more sinister, your form moving behind Gojo as if you might circle him, unable to let down your guard.

“Call off your pet,” Gojo says.

Suguru calls your name again and there’s something else in his tone now, a little sharper.

(Fear, you wonder faintly, in some far away part of your mind. Is he worried Gojo would hurt you?)

You come to heel at Suguru’s side, remaining in this form, making a low, threatening sound still. Warning. Your claws still drip with the blood of that sorcerer.

“Go,” Suguru says to you.

Your head snaps to look at him, eyes narrowing. “I’m not leaving,” you snap and the words have a bite to it, around the curves of your fangs. You look back at Gojo. If this comes to blows, you don’t want Suguru facing Gojo alone–you don’t want to leave his back suddenly unguarded.

It’s counterintuitive to you, goes against all of your instincts. You don’t leave him, you don’t leave his side, his back.

“Go,” Suguru says, harsher this time and the command seeps into you. You waver. And then, “I won’t tell you again.”

When you hiss at him in that warbling way of curses, he smiles faintly, almost fondly, as your teeth drip with venom. But you do listen to him this time.

And with your heightened hearing, you hear Gojo underneath his breath as you slink away;

“How interesting.”

***

When Suguru returns to you, he is unharmed.

You’d paced the length of the hallway outside of his room in the compound until you could have worn a hole into it.

Few would be brave enough to wait for Suguru outside his door.

When he arrives, he is mildly surprised to see you, before his expression melts into a sort of—smugness. A knowing glint to his eyes.

“Why would you send me away?” You snap.

“You could’ve gone in, you know, if it would’ve soothed you.” Suguru says instead, head nodding towards the door to his suite. “Would you like a key?”

You blanche, taking a half step back, “I don’t—“

It allows him to get to his door and open it. You’ve been here before, in the privacy of his suite, but now it feels strange. A little different. He holds the door open for you.

You glance at the threshold and feel as if you’re making an important decision.

“Come on,” he says smoothly and before you can think twice about it, you are being led inside, his hand drifting somewhere near your lower back. He never touches you, the feeling is a phantom one, the impression of it. You shiver a little.

But you round on him again, “why would you send me away?”

He doesn’t acknowledge you, instead he goes rifling in a drawer, digging around a little.

His suite is larger than others. The living room is open and attached is the kitchen. It’s all light wood, with tall windows that overlook the courtyard. You know, despite never being inside, that his bedroom is down the hall and to the left. The bathroom is across from it. You’ve sat many times on the floor of his living room with him, going over assignments, plans that he has, and what he’d like you to do.

When he finds what he’s looking for, he makes a soft noise, before turning to you with a small, gold key.

“I don’t want a key!” You snap.

“It’s a spare, take it just in case.” He replies and when you don’t move to grab it from him, he takes your hand in his much larger one, and opens your palm to him.

He places the key in your hand.

And then his eyes catch yours, “you were worried.”

“No-!” you get out, “I don’t like being—I’m supposed to protect you.”

Suguru smiles, hand still swallowing yours, “isn’t that sweet?” he remarks, “an Omega attempting to protect an Alpha.”

Immediately, you jerk away from him.

The key is still in your shaking fist.

“Don’t start,” you snarl, low and vicious and hurt, “I’ve always been the one at your side.”

“Yes,” he agrees, hand falling back down to his side listlessly. “I already told you that.”

You’ve always been at my side, he’d said, when he was trying to convince you to–

“That’s not what I meant!” Your voice rises without your consent and you feel an embarrassed, angry flush through your face for being so worked up. The room is thick with your worry and anger and frustration, all of your pent up energy like a knot in your chest, in your voice. It’s in your heart and the way you look at him.

“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” Suguru says easily, “it’s still the truth.”

When you slam the door this time, you hear something fall from the wall.

But the key is still in your trembling hand, digging indents into your palm, and your heart is still a beast in your chest.

And behind the closed door, Suguru Getou smiles fondly, and retrieves the fallen, shattered frame from the floor.

***

For a while, you avoid Suguru.

You stuff the key he gave you in your nightstand drawer, far in the back, in an attempt to keep it out of sight and out of your mind.

And at first, you think he is respecting your boundaries; you receive assignments through others from him. You see him only in passing and he never speaks directly to you. He hardly acknowledges you.

But after a week and a half, it begins to feel like punishment.

And the key is starting to burn and itch in your mind. You think about it at night, tossing over in your bed; you think about unlocking his door at this hour. What would you find? Would he be asleep? Awake? Alone? Fully dressed?

You think of him half bare and lounging, hair slipping over his shoulders, and the scent of sandalwood and fig. Tonka or something woodsy, maybe. You know it well and it lingers long after he leaves you.

You suddenly miss it, crave it.

Him.

You twist beneath your sheets.

Why did he have to–

You make a soft noise of frustration, turning over again.

You’re restless.

Something beneath your skin begins to itch and squirm.

Previously, Suguru had hardly mentioned your status as an Omega. He rarely acknowledged it; you were too brilliant of a sorcerer for him to care, you thought. You were too powerful. The only instance he brought it up was to scent you, a form of caution in a particular instance, for a particular mission. The memory still simmers in your mind, the way he’d rubbed the gland on your wrist with a careful thumb. He’d given you clothes of his to wear. He’d had you sit in his quarters for long hours, until it seemed as if you were his, in some way.

But now that he’s actually brought it up, offered you his bite, to be his, it paints him in an entirely different light.

Had he always…wanted you?

Was he always planning this?

The naive, desperate parts of you want to believe this is a recent thought of his. Previous to this, he only ever saw you as another sorcerer, a powerful one that aided him. You had always been one of the closer ones to him, at his heel, his beck and call.

You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought of Suguru this way; as an Alpha. An unmated one, who kept your company.

And he does, no matter how badly it burns to admit it, protect you.

You know he wards off Alphas.

You know he perhaps does more than even that.

But you don’t want—

You don’t want to be mated.

You don’t want to suddenly be coddled by him, held back, don’t want to be the little thing that keeps his bed warm.

Your face heats with the thought.

Images flash through your mind, flickering, melting together like film that bleeds and runs, of him overtop you. Shrouding you. His hair on your shoulders and back. You think of his mouth on your throat, teeth in your neck.

You rub at your eyes suddenly as if to clear them.

You know he leaves on a mission for a week in two days.

You assume, at some point, he’ll speak to you. And break this strange silence.

You’ll both return to normal then.

And then perhaps you won’t lose any more sleep over him.

***

Suguru never says goodbye to you.

It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does—you just figured he’d finally drop this silly little silence game.

You suppose he must’ve thought the same of you.

Besides, what were you expecting from him? An apology? It’s foolish to even entertain. You knew you weren’t going to apologize either. The least you’ll do, when he returns, is act as if all is normal again. Perhaps it’s better that way, not to address what he’s put in his head recently.

The more you speak of it, or think of it, the worse it unravels in your mind.

On the second day that he is gone, you realize you miss his scent.

You realize it has become such a staple in your everyday life that its sudden disappearance is almost alarming. It makes you more irritable, more vicious. You snap at the others faster, bite out insults and brutalities.

You—

Well, you miss it.

Him, maybe.

The admittance is a hard one to swallow around. It burns going down.

On the third day, you’re genuinely craving his scent in a way that makes your teeth ache. You had no idea you could even miss a scent like this, need it so bad that your body would betray you with a physical pain in your chest. Somewhere in your mouth, under your tongue.

You try to ignore it.

You go on with your life.

But by the fifth day, you are agitated and aggressive. Everyone knows something is wrong with you. You know something is wrong with you. You can feel it beneath your skin, crawling, squirming. It makes you want to tear out your hair, rip at your nails, or sink your teeth into something. You’re restless.

You can’t sleep.

You can hardly eat or think.

And as you lay awake in your bed, kicking at sheets, sweating and twisting, you know what it is you need.

You’ve known the whole week.

You throw back the covers and wrench open your bedside drawer.

The key rattles, hot, like it knows it’s finally about to be used. It’s musical sound a siren song, it’s been burning away in there the whole week.

You swipe it and turn sharply from your bedroom. From your own apartment.

It’s the middle of the night; not a soul sees you in the compound.

Like a person possessed, you walk. Your back is straight. Your steps are quick. Your mind is set, on fire.

Suguru’s door has haunted you the whole week.

The key in your hand digs into the flesh, carving it’s divots there like your hand might be the lock itself.

You try not to think about it–you unlock the door. You throw it open.

You shut it behind you, slide the lock back into place.

Darkness greets you.

You wander in like you know the place (you do, you do–)

You wander in like it’s yours to wander in.

Instantly, something loosens inside of you.

You exhale hard.

Inhale sharp.

The smell of him, fainter because he’s been gone, assaults your senses, sweeps over them. You take in a lungful like gasping for air, you smell faint traces of fig and sandalwood. Notes of tonka that you long for, that urge you to move deeper into his space.

In the dark, you make your way down the hall, towards his bedroom.

You haunt the arch for a moment.

Guilt or regret or embarrassment almost seize you. They make you pause.

Some sane part of you is clawing at your insides, wailing to turn around and leave. Leave now.

But he gave you a key.

He gave you a key, you think in circles, again and again. He gave me a key.

You cross the threshold.

You sink down into his bed and his scent is strongest here, even still, after several days it’s his.

You turn over the covers to get beneath them, cool sheets against your legs, sliding and smooth. You turn your face into his pillow and inhale.

A soft little groan works it’s way out of you.

Instantly, your muscles slacken.

Everything leeches from you; your anger and irritation and restlessness.

It soothes you so deeply and so swiftly it makes your head spin.

You curl beneath his blankets and take deep pulls of breath, squirming a moment if only to bring his scent tighter around you. You envelope yourself in it.You shroud yourself in it.

And finally, after five days of restless nights, you fall asleep almost instantly.

Not a single dream. Not one moment where you wake or stir.

You sleep deeply.

In the morning, the sun warms you through the broad windows like a content cat.

You stretch lazily like one, too.

Suguru will be home tomorrow.

You know you need to leave his bed, hope that your scent dissipates by the time he returns.

You didn’t do anything wrong, you know—he gave you a key.

He gave you a key.

But rather, you know he would never let you live it down. He would use it instantly, as ammunition for his argument, the debate that the two of you keep circling.

You don’t quite leave as quickly as you should still, though:

You linger.

You’re comfortable.

Calmed for the first time all week.

And when you do slip out, it’s silently, locking the door behind you.

Like maybe you won’t ever let yourself back in there, trying to shut it like it was a one time indulgence and gone now from your mind and body.

But his scent clings to you.

And little do you know, your scent clings to his sheets—and to Suguru, it’s sweet as can be and unmistakable—irreplaceable.

He collapses in his own bed when he returns and knows you’ve been all over it. He can smell the crush of dark berries, jasmine, the soothing note of vanilla that clings to you, that he’s come to adore.

He grins to himself and knows then, he’s got you right where he wants you.

***

For a moment, you think Suguru is going to make you be the bigger person and apologize upon his return.

Instead, he finds you.

And he doesn’t say he’s sorry for his recent behavior, but he does say;

“I’d prefer if you didn’t avoid me in the future.”

It feels like sorry enough.

And for some time, things return to a state of normal.

A version of it.

It isn’t quite like it was before—in fact, you seem to spend more time around him than previously. He calls on you more. He brings you into his space more frequently, often urging you to eat with him, beside him, at his table.

This is ideal for you. Close but not too close.

Although, he begins to ask, don’t you have your key? Can’t you let yourself in?

You say you haven’t used it.

He hums like he knows differently, but doesn’t press you.

Until finally he asks you to retrieve a notebook in his study and bring it to him.

Fetch, he says.

“It’s locked, isn’t it?”

“You have your key.” He answers simply, not looking up from the book he is reading.

For a moment, you almost protest, but something stops you. Maybe the twitch in his brow.

It’s a useless argument to pick, anyways.

You do have a key.

It would be fastest, easiest, to just use it.

So you do.

And you hand him the notebook he asked for, fingers brushing against his as he takes it from you with gentle hands.

“Thank you,” he adds, voice so smooth and low, almost tempting.

You swallow a little.

Then you quickly avert your gaze.

“Whatever,” you grouse, but he smiles fondly, amused.

And it opens another door, more than just the one to his suite.

***

Tentatively, you begin to come and go.

The first (second) time you use your key to enter without his order, he is careful not to react to you any differently than how he usually does.

His eyes brighten a little, though, like a leopard that’s caught something interesting in its sights and is waiting to see what it’ll do.

Still, you grow more comfortable entering his space on your own.

You claim portions of it; a corner of the couch. A particular cushion around his low table. All of the sunny patches in his suite become yours, scented with you, indented with you. More than that, some horrible, hidden part of you adores that your scent is all over his space.

It’s comforting to find it beside his scent.

It soothes a part of you that you don’t wish to admit to.

His hands grow bolder.

Now they’re always hovering at the small of your back, the nape of your neck. He tucks strands of your hair away from your face and though you jerk away from him, it’s often half-hearted. You snip at him and he only smiles.

Pleased. Smug. Knowing.

His hands guide you as you walk beside him.

You grow accustomed to his touch in some way—he makes sure of it.

Then, as if to prove something—

Another cult member begins to cause trouble with you; he is another Omega. He begins with snide comments and remarks that test your patience. He doesn’t stop until you are growling and bristled and ready for a fight.

And all it takes to stop you is Suguru’s large hand coming down on the nape of your neck.

His thumb rests atop one scent gland at your throat, fingertips pressing delicately into the one on the other side. Hand wrapped around the back of your neck.

“Easy,” he murmurs and just like that, you can feel some of your aggression slip from you, deflate like a balloon.

It’s involuntary, the energy and anger unspooling from your body in an instant. In the back of your mind, you’re alarmed; how easily it was for him to effect you. It’s terrifying.

You swat his hand away, lurching from him, another little growl in your throat.

But you don’t fight him or the look in his eyes, the way he tilts his chin up in the barest hint of dominance.

You storm off.

Instances as such continue to happen, though, where he’s able to sooth or quell your temperament with a touch. A word. A look.

It comes to a head while you’re eating dinner with him.

“You’re so wound up,” Suguru comments lightly, “your scent is so sharp with it. What’s bothering you?”

Reflexively, you snap, “you are.”

And it’s meant to be some sort of insult but Suguru’s lips twist into this hitched little smile. “It’s my fault you’re wound up?” He asks lightly.

“Don’t twist my words.” You respond, fixing him with a glare, “you bother me.”

He’s still deeply amused by this, you can tell by the twinkle in his eyes. The smug way he holds himself.

“Would you like me to help you?” He asks.

“No,” you say reflexively.

A beat of silence before he says, “come here. I’ll help you.”

There’s a command in his voice, laced there, and doing something strange to your head.

You hesitate.

He pounces, “just a massage.” He soothes, “I can tell your shoulders are knotted up and tense. I can see it.”

His voice has dropped into that soothing lull.

Warily, “away from my glands?”

He smiles, “of course.” And then, “come here.”

Your body moves easily now and he murmurs, “sit in front of me. Back to me—there, that’s it.”

It feels more vulnerable than it should to show your back to him, to sit in front of him like a child to their mother. You try to keep your posture straight and careful.

But then he sets large, warm hands to your shoulders. His fingers dig into the meat of them gently, pressing into your muscles which spasm and twitch in pain. You yelp, jerking away.

Suguru tsks, “see how tense you are? You’re in pain.” He scolds softly and you feel heat smart across your face, “sit still for me. I’ll be gentler.”

True to his word, he eases up, fingers careful as they run into your tense muscles.

He finds bundles of twisted up tension in your back and shoulders, pressing into them until a noise springs from you—a groan, a whimper, a little growl. He works the sounds out of you. You swear he’s doing it deliberately and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was all just to humiliate you a little.

But you finally loosen and slacken for him.

When you finally sink into his hands, he murmurs, “I don’t know why you fight this so badly.”

You let go of a heavy sigh, “you do know why. Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Because you’re stubborn?” Suguru asks lightly and you snort, despite yourself, “because you don’t know what’s good for you?”

“You’re no good for me.” You respond.

Suguru’s turn to sigh and if he digs his fingers in to make you yip in pain, he’d never say it was purposeful.

Reflexively, you jerk away from his touch, you turn to look at him over your shoulder with a sneer.

“I’m not a pet.”

Suguru does not heed your warning and instead gently pulls you back towards him by your waist.

“No?” He asks lightly, fingers resuming their steady massage. You go completely still like prey, unsure, wary. Angry. Humiliated. “It’s not a bad thing to be a pet. You’re thinking about it all wrong.”

His fingers ease up towards your neck and you stiffen again.

“Suguru,” you say in warning as he nears your scent glands. Perhaps to what he’s said.

“You’re my pet now,” he continues, “though you don’t like to admit it. It’s not so bad, is it?”

Stubbornly, you don’t answer him.

But after a moment, you say, “if I’m already yours, why do you need this last bit of me? If you already see me as your pet, why do you want me so terribly, in this way—“

Suguru suddenly pulls you back deeper, into his lap, against his chest.

You squirm, but he holds you tight, hooks his chin over your shoulder.

Alarm bells ring frantically in your head now that he’s so close to the glands in your throat.

“Don’t play dumb,” Suguru muses, half-mocking, “it doesn’t suit you.”

“Let me go,” you snarl low and hot.

“What are you scared of?” Suguru responds, “that I’d trap you? If you’d take my Bite, I’d let you roam further than I do now. You’d be safe.”

“Liar,” you hiss, “I’m not dumb.”

“I’m not trying to stifle you, I’m trying to set you free.” Suguru almost purrs and his voice is warm and low and creeping up over your spine and trying to find its way inside you.

You begin to squirm this time, thrashing in his hold until you manage to wriggle free, falling forward onto your hands and knees.

Instinctively, you turn to keep your back protected, scrambling away from him. You bare your teeth at him.

“I don’t believe you.”

He watches this show of aggression with amusement, tilting his head slightly. And then he sighs, “I don’t think anything I say will convince you at this point.”

You narrow your eyes at the tone. Your hackles rise.

In an instant, he has grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you back to him.

Underneath him.

You shove hard at him, twisting and fighting as he settles himself over you.

You realize how solid he is, how strong, and large. He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Suguru,” you hiss at him, pushing as hard as you can on his chest.

“See how easy it was for me to subdue you?” He says then, voice smooth and low. “If I wanted to take you, I simply would’ve already. You’re no challenge to me; if I wanted to trap you, I would’ve.”

“Get off me!”

You thrash hard beneath him and in an instant, he has your hands uselessly pinned above your head, stretching you out beneath him.

His nose dips, near the scent gland at your throat. You squirm.

He squeezes your wrists, “stop squirming.” He murmurs low, “or my instinct will be to bite.”

Your stomach does a horrible flip, a flutter of—fear, excitement.

“Just—get off—leave me alone!” You get out, voice high and tight. You try not to arch away from the way he lets his face fall to the crook of your neck.

“Hush,” Suguru hisses, nudging his nose beneath your ear.

He’s scenting you.

He’s done this before and despite everything in you, you finally go slack. You force yourself not to tilt your head or offer up more, rather let him urge you into the way that he prefers.

He nudges his cheek and nose against your jaw. He lets out a relieved breath, fitting more of his body to you and you feel the push of chest into yours, his hips.

You squirm a little and a growl erupts from his throat.

You fight back the sound that almost works its way out of you now, swallow around it.

When he’s finished, he asks, “would you like to scent me?” And instinctively, you want to say yes, but you temper yourself. Then he adds, “I’m sending you away on a mission alone. I’ll be scenting you until the day you leave now.”

You catch his eyes, glinting.

“So, I thought it only fair if you’d like to scent me, too.”

You don’t know why, but something squirms inside of you, something a little hurt.

“You’re sending me away?”

Suguru hums softly, “I need you to take care of something for me. I only trust you to do it.”

You flex your hands a little in his hold, but he doesn’t budge.

He nudges at your jaw again, gentle, and murmurs, “this would be easier if you’d take my mark.”

You turn your head then to shield your throat, and face him. His nose nearly brushes yours and you look up at him through your lashes. You bite your tongue from any further complaints, dipping down to the crux of his throat now.

Easily, perhaps eagerly, he bares his throat for you.

Satisfaction erupts beneath your skin as his scent washes over you, dark fig and oud, sandalwood and musk. Carefully, your nose runs along the column of his throat.

“I’m not even—“ you huff, retry, “I haven’t had a Heat in—it wouldn’t take, anyways.”

“Ah,” Suguru says and you wish you hadn’t told him at all. Realization dawns over his features the way a cat might realize it’s caught its mouse beneath its paws. “Is this what you’re so scared of?”

“No—I prefer it this way. It’s another reason that you can’t. It wouldn’t work.” You say stubbornly and perhaps in your irritation, you burrow further down into the crook of his neck, tuck your cheek to his skin to nudge.

“I could give you a temporary one,” he murmurs, “I’d let you do the same in return, of course.”

You go quiet, brushing your lips against his skin, hesitating.

“I don’t need it.” You finally decide, even as you let the blunt side of a tooth nick gently against his neck. “I can protect myself.” You pull away to look at him again, “am I not one of your strongest?”

“You are my strongest.” He agrees, he praises. “But am I not also strong?” He asks, “and yet you still insist on protecting me.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he takes your chin in hand suddenly, words dying before they can escape.

“You are my strongest.” He says, “I would like the world to be aware of it.”

“I told you, I don’t want to be yours–”

“Then stop protecting me. Flee. Run away and never return.” Suddenly, his touch, his body, all of him is gone. He rolls off of you and onto his back beside you. Cold air sweeps in. You can feel his touch like burning imprints on your skin.

You turn your head to the side to look at him.

“You would hunt me down if I ran.”

A flicker of a smile ghosts his face.

“And if I ran from you?” He asks, “if I discarded you?”

Something twists so viciously and sharply in your chest that your eyes sting with it. You lock your jaw tight. You stare up at the ceiling.

“You refuse to speak but your scent is spiced with distress, sour with despair.” He turns to look at you, “not so easy to hear, is it?”

“I can’t stand you or your games.” You get out.

“There are no games.” He says evenly, “only the one you’re playing with yourself.”

You scoff, “which is?”

He sits up slightly, over you, looking down at you, the inky silk of his dark hair sliding over one shoulder.

“Seeing how long you can outrun what you want.”

You exhale roughly, in exasperation, and then you ask dryly, “and what do I want, Suguru?”

“To be taken care of.”

“I don’t need–”

He cuts off your growl before it can start, taking your chin in hand to turn your head towards him once more. “You never have, but it doesn’t mean you can’t want it.”

“I don’t want it either.” You snap. “You have some grand delusion of me in your mind that I am some weak, submissive creature in need of your care.”

“I’ve said none of that, have I?” He hums. “Now you’re twisting my words, being purposefully churlish–in hopes of, what? To scare me off?”

His palm opens up against your jaw, your cheek. His thumb touches your bottom lip.

“You snap and you snarl and posture as some ferocious, independent creature to scare everyone off. I don’t blame you–I am certain you protected yourself many times this way from lesser people.” His voice is soft, almost a lull, you allow his palm to open against your lips, to turn your face into the cup of his hands. “You don’t believe anyone can handle you and you hope if you bite hard enough, tear into them, they’ll run off. And then you’ll feel vindicated; you were right, you are too much to handle. You were right, you are a monster. You’re unworthy of care or companionship or protection.”

His hand moves upward, baring his wrist to your mouth now, “go on,” he encourages, “bite me. As hard as you like. Scream and cry and tear into me. Loathe me and scorn me.” He leans closer, over you, as he hushes like a mother to their child, “I’ll still be here, with the rings of your teeth marks littered in my skin. I’ll be the only one, bruised and bloody, still taking care of you–no matter how badly you fight me.”

Out of anger or frustration or something else entirely, tears prick your eyes. As if to hide them, you open your mouth against his wrist, gentle first–warm and soft lips and tongue. He looks enraptured. He looks starving.

You sink your teeth into his skin viciously.

He hisses in pain, sharp, but doesn’t pull away. “There,” he coos, leaning over you, sinking into the pain, “is that what you wanted?”

Blood bursts into your mouth in a way that is almost startling, sharp and metallic. It should be gross and horrible and–you whine a little, somewhere in the back of your throat and bear down harder.

If that’s what he promises, you’ll make him prove it.

If he wants to be the one beside you, you’ll make him pay.

He leans down to kiss at your cheeks, gentle, humming. You realize there are tears. Your jaw aches.

But you don’t let go and he doesn’t even flinch.

“Does that feel better? To get your teeth into someone who isn’t scared of you?” He murmurs, nudging at your tense jaw, kissing there. “Shall I do the same to you?”

You release his wrist and shove him off, hard enough that he gives and he goes.

You stand up and storm out of his chambers, slamming the door on its hinges as hard as you can. You hope it knocks over every painting on his walls. You hope the entire compound somehow hears it. You hope it breaks something in the same way that something has been broken open inside of you.

You wipe his blood from your mouth with the back of your hand.

Suguru doesn’t even bandage the wound. And he wears his sleeves high, so that all the world might see it.

#suguru getou x reader #suguru geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru getou x you #getou suguru x you #suguru geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #cw: omegaverse #cw: yandere #cielo writes!#cielo's writing!

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copperbadge · 1 day

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Immediate Writer's Block

Had a comment on another post where I thought I'd probably need more space than the notes in which to respond, so:

constant-state-of-self-discovery Oh I get the envy I feel it right now how the fuck do you manage to write without impassable writers block after 5-9 sentences because I haven't fucking figured it out lol

I do have some advice on this!

I think most writers get blocked from time to time, it's normal and my general strategy is just to wait it out, but if you're frequently blocked after only writing a very little bit, I think the problem is one of two things: either you don't know what you want to achieve with the scene you're writing, or you don't know what should happen next within the scene to achieve that goal. If you frame "I'm blocked" as "I don't have an answer I need" then often you move from just sitting there, sweating and staring at a blank page, to thinking productively about how you're going to get where you're going. It's the difference between not knowing an answer and not knowing an answer but knowing where to look for it.

An invaluable piece of advice for this, which I think I picked up from someone who got it off a National Novel Writing Month messageboard, is "When in doubt, ninjas attack." It's not meant to be literal, you don't need to have ninjas or fight scenes just because you don't know what to do, but it helps to get the creativity flowing again. If you don't know what should happen next, or you know but you're having trouble actually writing the scene, it can be very helpful to induce a moment of uncertainty or surprise -- to have a metaphorical ninja attack. One time I did this literally -- the POV character was just on the road somewhere and I didn't know how to get them from a pastoral country road to their actual destination in an interesting way, so I had them get attacked by highway bandits and have to fight them off, which also allowed me to demonstrate that the character had significant unarmed combat skills. But it can also just be like, two characters who are having a boring conversation can be interrupted by a third person, even just a stranger asking for directions, or there can be, IDK, an explosion, or something goes missing, or etc.

Sometimes it also helps to leave it alone but keep it in your mind and go do something else -- listen to a podcast, take a walk, read a book, not because those things are distracting but because all our inputs eventually feed into our brain and come out as reactions. If you're thinking about your book while you're wandering around a park, something you see in the park might have an impact on it. If you've got YOUR story in mind while reading someone else's, you might be more inclined to look at what they're saying and see what you think of it, how it might play into your work.

And honestly, sometimes you just gotta go past it. I'm working on the next Shivadh novel right now and it opens basically with Simon the chef getting into a spat with his love-interest-to-be over some cheese. He want the cheese, she won't sell him the cheese, so they get off to a very contentious start. But I suck at writing conflict especially when it's basically "A character I like is being pompous and another character I want people to find likable is being stubborn and somewhat unpleasant". I've been stalled on it for a while. But I know where the scene ends up, like I do know what the goal is, so I just...skipped it and went on to writing a scene I like better, where they meet a second time and actually discover each others' identity and that they're about to be forced into the grownup equivalent of a school project. Once I've gotten dug deeper into the story I'll come back and write it, and by then I'll have the benefit of knowing the love interest a bit better.

So yeah -- I think a lot of breaking a writer's block, especially when you don't need rest but are just stumped about what to do, is to twist and look at it from another angle. It's not that you don't know what to write, or don't want to write what you know you have to -- it's that you don't have the correct answer to a question, or you need to leave that part alone to ferment and come back to it later. At least, for me.

#writing #constant-state-of-self-discovery #writer's block #inspiration #archive

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

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🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

AM I THE ASSHOLE FOR REFUSING TO WATCH OVER MY SISTERS CAT?

please help me I'm having real trouble here.

So a couple days ago my sister found this little baby cat and decided to take it home to where she and her partner live, because the alternative would be letting it die and because she loves animals deeply.

The baby is only days old and it needs constant surveillance, something neither she nor her fiance can give because they work all day long. Here's where I come in.

Since I'm unemployed and don't really have much going for me at the moment, she asked me to go over to their house and take care of it from 8am til 8pm. Their house from mine is a 1 and a half hour bus & metro ride.

The thing is, she wants me to go and do that every single day, minus the weekends. She and her fiance had agreed to giving the cat elsewhere, I even have candidates from a Facebook post we made, waiting for a response. But suddenly she decided the cat is too cute and she wants to keep it.

I think it's unfair. Firstly, she didn't inform me of this (despite me asking all day long 'what should I reply to those messages?') until early afternoon where she asked me if I can come and watch the cat again the next day. Then she told me that she wants to keep it and when I said that I don't want to make a 2 hour trip back and forth every day she said that she wants to keep the cat but if she can't have the help she needs she can't.

This obviously made me feel guilty as hell, but here's the thing also. Isn't it unfair? Why would she keep a cat she doesn't even have the time for and mostly hand him over to me? I already have a cat I'm taking care of, albeit she's a big girl now. She will never have time for the cat and no one else she knows won't either, so the responsibility will always fall on me. They even have a trip planned and when I asked her what she's gonna do with the cat then, she said she was thinking of either handing it over to me or making me go over for the four days, which just bugs me wrong.

I do get the feeling I might be sounding really shitty. I feel shitty for feeling like this too. But I'm also anxious as hell about it. And this might be my avoidance disorder, which is why I'm asking you to tell me if I make a point or if I sound like the shittiest person alive? Please know I mean the kitty no harm, and I like him just fine, it just feels like a lot of weight on my shoulders, but also to be fair, my sister provides the milk and the box and the blankets and the feeding bottle.

So AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole

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rowretro · 2 days

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Yandere!demon! heeseung x human! Reader( Please?)

TOOTHPASTE MOJITO

✧warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, kidnapping, marriage, blood, violence, explicit stuff mentioned, somewhat sexual(?), alcohol consumption

❁synopsis: Heeseung, a demon of many demons that roams earth, bored. His eyes then land on y/n. The girl who was disgusted by her raspberry mojito, and proceeded to order more mojitos. That's when Y/n saw hell....

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

Heeseung smirked, his hands stained with blood, as he stared at the limp body before him. Another day another slay, demon edition. He literally slays them. Could you blame him? I mean what did the drunkard expect? trying to steal his wallet. He didn't stand a chance. Heeseung groaned as he went to his mansion, maids slipping off his coat and placing his shoes aside, as he walked in. The man's rich, anything he wants he gets, money, shoes, cars anything.

But he was missing one thing... a wife. Sure he'd sleep with some girls now and then when he's bored, but none of that satisfies his loving for love. True love, the kind of love one'd find in any movie, a shoulder to lie on, a person to turn to and feel comfortable. The man checked himself out in the mirror, a branded leather jacket worn over his black button down shirt, and trousers to match it. He slipped on a Rolex of the many he owned, followed by some jewellery.

The man walked into the party, fitting in as Jay threw an arm over him "Thought you'd never come, I assume you're here for the girls?" Jay asked as Heeseung snickerred "not this time- I got some time off of work so I decided to drop in... where's the bar?" He asked as Jay pointed it out. The man sat down at the stool, beside him, he could see the back of a girl, her dark hair somewhat covering her bare back, she was dressed is a shimmering, short black dress.

So far she seemed like a hottie to him. "Ack- disgusting... It tastes like grass-" she complained turning around to the bartender. Heeseung got a the full view of her face. Fuck was she beautiful. Her eye makeup really did suit her, purple glitter reflecting blue, lips so plump and kissable, her nose slightly big, but really added a stunning touch to her pretty face. "Can I get a mojito with Ice... make it really minty" she said as Heeseung frowned at her.

As the bartender walked off to prepare her drink, Heeseung turned to face her "Minty mojito?... that'd taste like toothpaste in alcohol- its already minty as is why ad more?" He questioned as she giggled "Toothpaste mojito.... not a mint lover huh?" she asked then she froze "Wow... Jay knows so many attractive men but damn." she added quite boldly. "He seems to know very pretty girls... none as pretty as you though, can't believe he gatekept you from me... Heeseung." He introduced himself. "Y/n.... " she said with a smile

If only she knew there and then that he's a goddamn demon. Literally. She thought she was just drunk, one second she was at the party, the next in a luxorious bedroom with a fine man. That morning she realized, the man did the impossible, he literally teleported her. She saw him really murder a man. She looked under the blanket. No sign of pain, hickeys or anything, she smelled nice, dressed in a man's jumper, presumably Heeseungs.

Oh how stupid she felt. Thinking it'd be easy to sneak out of a demon's home without being caught. Acting cool, walking out as the guards assumed she was just some slut he slept with. "Where do you think you're going sweetheart?" he asked, her back against the wall, as his body trapped her. "uh... home? I need to feed my bunny" she excused as he just laughed.

"Oh baby how drunk were you?... you ARE home... and I fed your bunny see? *he said with a smirk pointing at the little white rabbit that rested comfortably in a more spacious cage". It was too much to process. did she move in with him? did something happen? are they in a relationship? "yes, I guess, and Yes.." he answerred without missing a beat, red eyes staring into hers. "Did I say that out loud?..." she asked as he smirked.

"As you can see darling, I'm a demon, I know everything you think about. When I first laid my eyes on you... thought I'd just let you stay in my bed one night.... then you talked to me and fuck." He groaned, holding her heart at his chest "feel that?! Im in fucking love with you baby, I fucking wanted you... no I fucking needed you. so here you are." He said with a smirk "You're crazy. Im not into you Heeseung. You can't just kidnap me, and my bunny and say im you're in love with me. Im leaving." She claimed confidentally

"That's where you're wrong. You're mine, you're not going anywhere and you won't need to, everything you need is in this mansion. If I want something sweetie.. I get it. How about you think twice before your decision, sure you wouldn't want to anger a demon... I KNOW you're smarter than that." He simply said. He's right. Only an idiot would do such a thing, she really had no choice... She was in hell and there's no going back....

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

(so sorry to all my readers, Ill try work on the series's too, yes my blog is wet now- its no longer a dry desert)

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some-pers0n · 2 days

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Back on my Peril ramblings again guys

Peril is a character with a lot of polarizing opinions. You've got some people who love her to death, while others who, well, don't. The people who dislike her will go about how she's obsessive. Too clingy and relies far too much on Clay. That or go on about how she's just rude, mean, dangerous, and overall kind of a bad person. I...couldn't disagree more if I'll be blunt.

For starters, Peril is in a difficult situation. She was molded and shaped by her childhood. What she is now is a product of being raised as a living weapon. She was seen as being dangerous and a blight on dragon society. A hazard that, at any moment, could kill somebody. She is danger. She is peril.

Scarlet took hold of that. Scarlet manipulated this tiny dragonet that she stole away from her mother and raised her, feeding her lies in order to keep her docile and dependent. She was never alone. Never to act on her own accord. Anything she did was first of all approved by Scarlet, somebody she trusted and loved in a way. All Peril ever knew was hate and fear, so a dragon showing her any other emotions felt like love.

Peril is...unstable to say the very least. Like I just said, she's got a warped sense of relationships due to her upbringing. She has literally nobody outside the walls of the SkyWing palace. She clings to those she deems as friends and loved ones as she knows nothing else. She craves that feeling of love and especially touch. She has never known the love of a mother's hug. She has never felt the wings of a friend comforting her in a time of crisis. She only wants to be held and loved, but she cannot. She was born wrong. She is unlovable in her eyes. That's what everyone tells her at least.

It's when Clay comes along that things change. For once, she's seeing a dragon who, while still kinda scared of her...is respectful. He holds conversations with her. He's nice, friendly, and when she hears that he tried killing his troop, she immediately relates. It's one of those things that I feel Sick about, where in Clay and Peril both are deemed to be monsters since the moment they hatched when in reality they weren't at fault for anything. Clay and Peril are so good when you actually treat them like characters.

The point is that Peril sees herself in Clay. For the first time ever, she finds a dragon like her. A dragon that at the very least tolerates her. After years of abuse and being shunned and seen as nothing more than a monster, it's basically like Clay is giving her a boquete of roses and confessing his undying love.

She becomes obsessed, even more so when she's eventually free from Scarlet, but that comes later. She holds him to such high regards and views him as a dragon she wants to be around. She's easily jealous when other dragons talk to him. She's protective and constantly wants to be near him. She adores him.

Yada yada, the whole fight scene happens between her and Clay. Scarlet notices that Peril is rather fond of Clay and is using her emotions to manipulate her further. Again, Scarlet is extremely manipulative of Peril. She's the one who molded her into this. She's the one who was responsible for this. She's the one who made Peril feel as though all she could ever be in life was a murder machine, and that Scarlet was doing her a favour by letting that be her existence as opposed to killing her. Scarlet made Peril dependent on her.

So when she's gone...Peril feels lost. She feels like she's the blame for one of the very, very few dragons in her life that at least cared about her being gone. Now she's alone and seen once again as a creep. A weirdo. She doesn't belong here, not in the Sky Kingdom. Osprey is dead (another example of Scarlet toying with Peril's emotions cause the one time she acts out she has to suffer for it) and she's just tossed into the world without warning.

She in turn seeks out Scarlet, eventually finding her. Despite all of the abuse and suffering that Scarlet has put her through, she has nobody else. Scarlet's twisted and distorted love is the only thing she knows. She feels guilty for everything that happened to her.

I think it's easy for people to not really understand Peril if they don't really get her situation. What I lay it out, it sounds pretty easy to understand. Peril is a deeply traumatized and abused character who is shaped by her trauma and struggles to exist in this world as she only knows to kill. She's trying to unlearn all of this. She wants to be better. She's trying to be better.

That's what Escaping Peril is all about: Peril's recovery.

Escaping Peril is the conclusion to Peril's arc, with her coming to grips and terms with her trauma and by the end realizing that she is her own person. Over the course of the book, she struggles a lot. She goes back and forth on her feelings with Scarlet, conflicted on whether she loves her or wants to kill her. Perhaps both at the same time. It's messy and she feels lost and hopeless.

The only real thing that seems to be a beacon of light in her life is Clay, whom is basically not even in this book. Clay is her moral compass here. Anything she does has to be something she believes Clay would approve of. She's doing the exact same thing that she's done for years with Scarlet because, yet again, it's literally the only thing she knows. She is a deeply hurt character who struggles with the whole morality thing because ever since she was a dragonet she's been a child solider. She's trying to unlearn it all.

Which is helped significantly with her friends, namely Turtle. She isn't alone. She has a group of dragons who care for her and like her the way she is. Again, the themes of friendship and togetherness is a very strong one in this arc. The Jade Winglet learn how to be themselves and how they don't need to pretend to be somebody they aren't with a group of dragons who love them for who they are.

Peril...learns. She learns. She grows. I cannot emphasize this enough since some of you guys still don't get that part. Her character shifts and changes and develops over the course of this book. She learns that she doesn't need to depend on somebody for her own actions. Hell, by the end of the book, she burns the scroll of her own volition, knowing fully well that Clay would've hated that. She's acting of her own accord. She learns that she's not a monster and doesn't need to have her flamescales be repressed to be liked.

She's a deeply traumatized character who is trying to get better. She has been getting better, and she will only get better with time. She's happy now. She's happy with her friends and loved ones. Everything will be okay.

#wof #sp-rambles #wings of fire #peril wof #She's also got BPD trust me I'm literally Tui

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 days

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i know we’re all excited for part 4 coming and ofc I don’t want you to get overwhelmed but i was wondering if we could have Spencer’s POV?

in one of the scenarios, he stated that he was in falling in love for reader and it has been noticeable that he has gotten laid with more/other women in the past.

i would like to know more about how was spencer as a lover back in that time like how he felt after s*x and stuff, like a flashback or something and how his relationship with reader has changed him, his own perspective. BUT ofc, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. it’s all good if you choose to ignore this; ily. thanks for always feeding us. we love being your children💗💗

hi love i actually do have headcanons for dybmn!spence’s romantic/sexual history and idk if they’re ever going to fit into that series but i’d be happy to share them here!!

18+ under the cut/season 8 spoilers barely

so basically in my head he loses his virginity to elle greenaway (DUH) and they actually have a little bit of a relationship but the dynamic isn’t quite right because she’s going through all her own shit and at that time of spencer’s life it’s more simple for him. like she’s his first everything and he’s super in love with her but she is older and more experienced and really cares for him but knows for a lot of reasons that this wide eyed rose tinted view he has of her and their idealized relationship is never going to work out. #ILOVEELLEGREENAWAY but anyway they are never exclusive and in the dybmn universe i think he doesn’t necessarily SLEEP w lilah archer but they hook up in that pool beyond just making out mwaha but he’s just a little guy like he’s not CHEATING on elle because they’re not exclusive but she realizes she’s way too into him and that actually ends up figuring into why she leaves the BAU like yes it’s everything with her trauma too but that’s part of it because she knows she can’t sustain that relationship and being much older than him she’s the responsible party so yeah. i also think that time he visits her hotel room was maybe the last time they hooked up

after that i think he kind of develops a pattern of sleeping with women who are older/more experienced than him because he’s just used to being around older people anyway and he feels he can relate to them better and im imagining this is like seasons 2-4 spencer so it’s him and a bunch of hot 30-40 year old women (and probably men) and he’s just like a slut honestly like he’s really easy because he desperately craves affection and validation and i’d say he continues slutting himself out in that way for many seasons, but slowly with people who are more his age, probably until like around season 8 when he meets maeve and then all that shit happens and he kinda is just not into sex or romance for a long while. and i think after that he occasionally will hook up w someone but his main slut era was like seasons 2-6. (it slowed down when his migraines started but did not stop because he’s unstoppable) (he also may have had an actual relationship during this season 7 period in my mind. idk why i just sense there was someone before maeve. no i will not be providing reasoning season 7 spencer just looks like he has a girlfriend)

anyway. the number of bodies that man has is unknown. it may be a number so high we can’t conceive of it. he’s a capital doubleyew Whore unfortunately. but he’s rlly reigned it in by the time he meets reader which can be whenever you want but i picture it as being anywhere from season 9-14. and i think by the time he meets her he really is like basically celibate. like he hasn’t been with anyone by choice for a long while by the time he meets her. he is a retired slut if you will.

saliently i don’t think he ever does anything with jj. that is a purely imaginative thing for him and he lowkey has a madonna whore complex about her. i don’t think he was ever really in love with her he just loved the idea of the pretty blonde girl loving him back. but that is a whole other thing. and he’s way over it when he meets reader.

n e way those r just my silly thoughts. like i said i don’t think i’m ever gonna fit this into the actual narrative but yeah that’s what ive been imagining!!

#asks #ramblings

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sl0t4matt · 11 hours

Note

Can you do pablo gavi boyfriend canons like the ones for Marc and Hector. Pleasee

ofc i can do one of gavi thank you, anon for requesting!!

p. gavi bf! head canons

❀ bf! gavi, that was completely whipped with you, ever since the both of you started talking.

❀ bf! gavi, who swears he hates it when people call him “pablito”, but doesn’t mind if you do.

❀ bf! gavi, that cooks breakfast not only for himself, but as well you before going to practice.

❀ bf! gavi, who you took care of when he got injured.

❀ ”it hurts so bad, fuck.”

❀ ”my poor baby, you want anything?”

❀ ”i just wanna cuddle you right now.”

❀ bf! gavi, that you absolutely love calling angry bird, when he gets home from another game all angry. you know the red one with the six pac? it’s him!

❀ “i fucking hate this.”

❀ “okay calm down, angry bird.”

❀ bf! gavi, that even though he is such an irritable person, is the softest boyfriend with you. you kind of have a calming affect on him.

❀ bf! gavi, who’s first thing he does when he gets home from a game is cuddle you. you would give him massages to calm and relax him after the exhausting games. do you only do that to see his hot and trained back? totally!

❀ bf! gavi, that makes sure you get anything you please, wether it being buying a book you wanna read or a expensive designer bag, he’ll get it for you.

❀ bf! gavi, that begs for good luck kisses before every single game. (he just wants to take every opportunity to kiss you)

❀ “just one! please, ma.”

❀ “fine, you needy bitch!”

❀ bf! gavi, that absolutely loves bottoming, just the thought of you being on top of him, riding him, could make him come.

❀ bf! gavi, that gets turned on by the tiniest things you do, like cropping your barca jersey when at a match. you would watch him on the field, pulling his pants down a little in order to not see his obvious boner. you think it’s funny, honestly.

❀ bf! gavi, that usually is a dogs person but got a cat for you.

❀ bf! gavi, that gets you coffee every morning, feeding your obsession.

❀ bf! gavi, that would repost every single post you’d post on instagram, as well as commenting the sweetest comments.

❀ bf! gavi, that loves watching every single one of your little snap stories that, you send to him about your day, yapping about what happened at college etc.

❀ bf! gavi, that shows you every single one of his tricks he can do with a ball, always trying to impress you.

❀ bf! gavi, who yaps to pedri about how perfect you are and how he’s going to marry you.

❀ bf! gavi, that would steal kisses at you, when at a dinner with the barca team.

❀ bf! gavi, that loves to talk about how perfect it would be to have a little boy with you, he can teach football to. he would call it the messi project. (😭)

❀ bf! gavi, that absolutely adores sleeping on your chest. the rhythm of your heartbeat giving him some kind of comfort.

#barca #fc barcelona #pablo gavi #joao felix #fermin lopez

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enha-sua · 3 days

Text

📳 ... [042524] SUA WEVERSE LIVE HIGHLIGHTS ... !

LOCATION: hybe building

PARTICIPANTS: sua ft. iroha ( illit ) + sunghoon

authors note. been feeding the suseung shippers a bit decided to give suhoon shippers something

♡ … SUA AND HER SISTER CALL !

"we've been preparing for the comeback so watch out for that." she said, strumming the cords on her guitar. "is this one mines?" she nodded. "yeah, jays is right there." she pointed. "i wouldn't dare touch his." she laughed, her phone ringing. "it's like 11 , this could only mean one thing." she said picking up the phone. "and i was right." she laughed. "it's my sister." she smiled. "let's see if she wants to talk to engenes." she answered. "unnie!"

"yah, it's 11 o'clock why aren't you home , do you see how dark it is." she laughed. "you're on speaker." she said. "it's too dark engene, tell her she needs to go home." she said making sua's face scrunch in disgust. "what have i told you about the agyeo?" she gritted under teeth knowing her sister did it to piss her off. "im serious don't stay out too late." she hummed. "and eat some food please." she listened to her sister give her a list of demands. "let's go shopping when you're free okay, it's been a while " she smiled. "okay!" she said. "okay, i love you, i have to go." her sister said. "say bye to engene." "bye engene, take care of sua for me."

♡ … IROHA ACCIDENTALLY WALKS IN !

"okay that's enough with the guitar." she put it back on the stand. "jays is cuter though." she said, bending down to untangle the wires. "who the hell- you guys didnt hear that." she said. "these wires are constantly getting tangled." she grunted. "so annoying, engene give me a moment."

she was so focused not hearing the door open and the girl walking in. "oh im sorry." she quickly shot up seeing who it was. "ah hello." the japanese girl nodded shyly. "oh hi." sua bowed. "did you loose something?" she said. "yeah my charger." she said , sua got up. "oh let me help you." she got up searching around for the charger. "is this it?" she said. "thank you so much." the girl took it from her. "good job on promotions." the girl smiled. "thank you sunbae." sua's eyes lit up. "ah! i was never called that before." the girls laughed. "you wanna say hi to engene." the girl shyly waved. "ah! so pretty." sua praised. "engene , please watch over illit as they do there promotions." said. "thank you sunbae." the girl bowed before leaving. "they're so cute, all of them."

♡ … SUNGHOON COMES AND JOINS !

she was talking to engene about random things when the door swung open. "yah jang sua!" she jumped , turning to sunghoon. "do you want to die?" she glared. "what do you want." he sat down on the table. "i came to annoy you." she rolled her eyes. "at least go get a chair and don't sit down on that." she got up , walking out to get a chair. "here."

he sat down next to her , waving to the camera. "engenes she's pretty boring right, i came to make things fun." she glared at him, he smiled. "she's cursing at me with her eyes." she nodded. "i am." he laughed. "it's a suhoon live now." she said , wrapping her arms around the boy who stared stoic at the camera. "show some reaction." she said and he smiled. "yes."

♡ … CUTE SUHOON MOMENTS !

sunghoon trying to talk to sua in english and sua speaking in korean back to him. "yah, why are you speaking in korean when im talking in english to you?" "why are you speaking in english to me when im speaking in korean to you." "because you seem comfortable talking in english." "but im talking to you , and you're comfortable talking in korean so speak korean."

"look at my nails." she showed the camera. "i picked them out for her." took her hand looking at them. "i picked out the color." he smiled to himself. "are you proud of that?" she asked he nodded. "yeah." "cute."

"am i releasing another cover soon?" she asked. "i don't have any planned since we're working on our comeback." she said. "i kind of want to do a dance cover, should i ask ni-ki?" she said. "oh or jungwon." sunghoon side eyed the girl. "heeseung?" she read. "no." sunghoon said. "why?" she asked , smiling. "ask ni-ki." he said. "ni-ki always says he's too busy." she said. "then do it alone, you're a good dancer too , you don't need anyone." he said. "how about you do." "sorry engene but we have to go."

"should we say goodbye now?" she said. "i want ramen." sunghoon said. "can we go to the convince store?" she said. "on our way home." he said. "engene we're gonna go now." she smiled at the camera.

"let's do capture time." she fixed her hair, resting her chin on his head. "take it like this." he starred into the camera. "yah smile." he smiled. "1.2.3 , good job."

"alright this is it, bye engene." she waved. "say goodbye." he waved. "by engene." they both waved.

©️ENHA-SUA

#kpop reactions #kpop added member #enhypen 8th member #kpop female addition #enhypen added member #kpop female oc #kpop female member #enhypen female addition #enhypen female member #8th member of enhypen #enhypen female oc #enhypen addition #fictional idol addition #fictional idol oc #fictional idol community #fictional kpop idol #fictional kpop oc

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bahrtofane · 2 days

Note

helloo can we have dialogue 9, trope 20 with tchouameni pleasee🫂

- "Stay, please?" - two idiots pinning and not realizing the other is just as in love

word count - 700+

watch it - sleepy eepy silly lovers

I luv him sm yall

You get a call at 3 in the morning. At first you think it's an alarm so you slap your phone a few times before fumbling around for your charger, sticking your face in your pillow and drifting away.

Then you get another call, and this time you clock that it's not an alarm but your dearest friend who's decided blowing up your phone is much better than letting you get any rest. It's Friday and you'll give him a pass. (Aurélien gets any and every pass in your book but he doesn't need to know all that).

You answer, of course you do. Voice hoarse as you sit up, slouching against your pillow while you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Mind if you open the door.” he mumbles after a rushed greeting.

You squint,”what?”

“Your door, can you come and open it.” he repeats again. Slower.

“Where are you?” you yawn.

“Outside, I got you things from Germany and they're really perishable and supposed to be refrigerated and I won't be able to so I thought I'd stop by. Sorry it's so late.” he breathes into his phone.

“No it's okay,” you stumble out of your bed and feed for your slippers in the dark, padding around your apartment phone wedged between your shoulder and your ear.

He stays on the line, even if he's a few feet away. Not hanging up til he’s greeted by a very puffy eyed you in your pjs still fighting sleep.

He thinks you're beautiful like this. Warm and soft, exactly how you make him feel. In full honesty he could have kept the assortment of treats with him. His hotel probably has a mini fridge. But he wanted to see you. He knows both of you will get busy again. He'd rather not waste any chances. So here he is, standing in your door frame, sleek black carry-on suitcase in hand and a bag just for you in the other.

You use him inside, flicking on a light and taking his baggage. He tries to fight you but you only whine, wheeling it away from him and up against the wall.

“Tea?” you croak.

He giggles, “no it's okay,” he hands you the tote,” this is for you, i should get going.”

“No wait,” you rub your eyes, “it's late. Stay please?”

His resolve soon crumbles as you take him by the hand, leading him further into your home. To you its second nature. Not a second thought as you dig in your closet for a spare pair of slipper.

“I have pjs for you somewhere, “ you mumble.

“No no,” he waves his hands,”its okay i have my own.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

You hum, padding along to get your room in order.

When you come back you see him in his pjs trying to settled on your couch and you frown, “no no you're sleeping in a proper bed get up.”

“It's your house.”

“And?”

“No i'll take the couch you have one bed i can-”

You shut him up with a tug to his sleeve, dragging him to your room. You turn your lamp on and slide in, motioning for him to follow. Friends share beds right? You would have offered if it wasn't him, and he wouldn't have accepted if it wasn't you.

Maybe it's due to it being so late, to the jet lag, to you just being woken up. Or maybe it's because he feels so safe with you, so at home. And you feel so comfortable, and it feels so right when he slides in next to you, curling his hand around his face and resting his head against your pillow.

You've dreamt about this a million times. But you're too drowsy to be able to truly take it in.

It's okay, the way Aurélien stares at you wide eyed admiring you makes up for it. He feels too excited to sleep but forces his eyes shut, turning the other way, and taking a deep breath to calm down.

You don't know this now but come morning you'll be pressed up against each other legs tangled and far too embarrassed to bring anything up. You hope he comes by again, maybe at a more reasonable hour next time so you can properly remember it.

#aurélien x reader #aurelien tchouameni x reader #aurelien tchouameni #tchouameni imagines #tchouameni x reader #tchouameni #aurélien x you #aurelien x reader #bahr footy #bahr 300 event

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anemoiashifts · 3 days

Text

why everyone won’t shift.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

“do you think everyone will shift?”

no.

“but if they really want they’ll eventually—“

no.

before you pick up your pitchforks & form an angry mob in the comments, hear me out.

first & foremost. what is a want ? a want is something you desire. but not every want is desired. for example, ive been thinking of getting a cat once i move out of my parents house. i want the animal & have the funds for it. when i dig deeper in my desire, i see all the vet trips, the having to feed it & take care of it & i realized that i don’t actually want the cat at the moment. im not ready to make that drastic of a change in my life. on the surface, id like one but i don’t want to take on the responsibility for taking care of a pet at the moment.

i like the idea of getting a cat (shifting) — but when the actual time comes to get a cat (actually shift), i don’t actually want a new pet at the moment (to create that big of a change because i am comfortable with my situation & not mentally prepared / mature enough).

i made a post about comfort already. what previously spoke about can tie into this.

if you don’t actually want something & just like fantasizing about it, that’s okay. but fantasy & imagination needs to be backed by intention. you need intention & effort put into your shifting attempts. ive seen so so many people say “i tried to shift” & all they do is say “i said one affirmation & rolled over & went to sleep & hoped i would wake up in my dr.”

you could say a million affirmations & hope you will wake up in your dr & not shift. you know why ? hope. it’s not hoping you will shift — it’s that internal knowing. it’s letting go fully of the comfort & all you know of this life to go to another & a lot of people don’t want to do that even if they say they do. again, they like the idea of shifting, but aren’t stopping to consider that you’re actually living it.

this isn’t a bad thing. if you actually have come to the conclusion that you don’t want to shift & are in the community — that’s okay. if you’re just interested in the science or content for the subject & that’s why you’ve stumbled across this blog, i don’t have an issue with that.

when i say not everyone will shift, i mean that not everyone wants to shift in the first place despite what they may say. what they want is an escape. time & time again i see comments on tiktok say “i want to get out of this reality”. that statement has nothing to do with wanting to shift — it’s wanting to get out of the situation you are in. you do not have to shift to get out of your current situation. if you live with family or are younger, it’s different, i understand.

if you’re someone who thinks “when i shift, ill be happy.” no no no. happiness comes from within you. while the 3d can bring you momentarily happiness, that only lasts so long. if you don’t have internal happiness & self love those feelings won’t last. shifting — in my option — can sometimes be putting a bandaid on a bigger issue & that’s loneliness & a yearning for another life. you can solve both of those right here at anytime.

lastly, shifting takes effort despite what you may think. “but such and such shifted without trying”. cool, that’s them. but have you ? if you’re reading this im going so safely assume at least a handful of you are saying “no” internally. when you want something you have to work for it. weather that be manifestation or putting yourself first. if you wake up & think “i didn’t shift” or “i hate this world it’s sucks” guess what ?? you’re focusing on the negative. what you pay attention to & give your energy to expands because you’re shifting awareness to it. you make up your thoughts & control them, thus affecting the 3d.

im not saying you can’t shift with negative mindsets or anything. im saying confidence helps a ton. how are you going to believe other people can shift when you can’t even extend that belief to yourself ? you’re making it much, much harder for yourself. doing healing work, finding the root cause of why you want to shift (for love, sense or belonging, etc.) & finding that here first, may alleviate the desperation to shift. when you have a sense of knowing, there’s nothing to be desperate about because whatever happens, you know the outcome already.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

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madi-writes-things · 1 day

Text

Nobody Pt. 4

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1,332

TW: Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it is talked about), fluff, PDA, fake dating chaos, mention of cramps and throwing up because of the pain, bad sex joke, use of emojis (I have no clue how else to explain the exact reactions other than the emojis), drinking/being drunk (I’ve never been drunk, so forgive me if my portrayal is off), Not Edited

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, I’ve literally been locked in my room for two weeks with no motivation. I really hope that y’all like this chapter. I’m also hoping to work on some other stuff coming up soon. 😁

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

Nick and Matt stood at the island as me and Chris walked into the kitchen. I caught Nick’s eye as I set down enough food to feed a small militia. He just stares.

Matt hits him in the shoulder, prompting him to give him a dirty look before speaking. “I’m sorry…” He looked like he wasn’t sure what all he needed to apologize for. “I’m sorry that I punched you” he nodded toward Chris. “I’m sorry that I made you cry, I feel really bad about that.” He averts his eyes, and I think I see a small glint of shame.

I physically can’t stay mad at him, and I make it very obvious when I envelop him into a rib crushing hug. He whispers a small thank you in my ear before I walk back to the other side of the island to unpack the food. As I start unpacking breakfast I feel arms wrap around my waist, and a chin resting on my shoulder.

I freeze up, and Chris mumbles a quick “is this okay?” Into my hair. I look around realizing that Matt and Nick don’t even notice, much too invested in their food to care. I nod my head, trying to will the rosy shade to leave my face.

I’m failing miserably.

after breakfast me and Chris went upstairs to watch a movie in his room. Matt was quick to respond in the worst way possible.

“Sock that wang before you bang… and please be quiet, I don’t want to hear my brother doin it”

Y/N: 😨

Chris: 😮

Nick: 😟

Matt: 😁

needless to say, me and Matt practically teleported upstairs and away from that mortifying experience. Me and Chris enter his room in a fit of laughter, practically collapsing onto the bed.

After a second I noticed that Chris had stopped laughing… his laughter is addictive, and I already missed it. I turned to see him staring at me with a look in his blue eyes that I couldn’t quite grasp. He looked happy and sad and something else all at once.

“What?” I giggled as I said it, still thinking about what Matt said only a few minutes earlier.

“are you doing okay?” This question again… I never know what to say when people ask me that. Right now I’m doing great… but in 30 minutes, or a week, or even a month I might break down again.

that’s never the answer that people want. They want something simple, yes or no. He stares at me patiently waiting for my response, it makes me feel bad for not having one.

“I’m okay right now…” he gives me a quick nod before speaking again.

“Okay, will you tell me when you aren’t doing good?” Why is he offering this, he doesn’t want to deal with me. “You need a safe space, and you clearly aren’t going to tell Nick. Let me be your safe space.”

“okay”

With that we got comfy on his bed and found a movie.

“”“”“”“”“”

things carried on like this for months.

doing good.

going down.

running to Chris.

repeat.

he was always so sweet and caring. He would hold me while I cried Myself to sleep, he would walk me home early from an event if I wanted to leave, he would hold my hair back and get me a heating pad when my cramps got bad… no matter what, he was there. He had also started being more touchy in public, leaning into the fake relationship for those around us. It made me feel things that I tried to avoid for years.

I think I hate him… how DARE he make me fall in love with him, knowing that none of this is real. How dare he kiss me at parties, and hold me during movie nights, and make me feel safe when none of it is real for him.

“you okay baby?” He snaps me out of my thoughts with the use of his new favorite nickname for me. I melt when he calls me his baby, unfortunately a small part of me also dies inside every time I hear it.

“yeah, just a little tired.” We’ve been at this party for like three hours, and I haven’t even touched my drink. When Chris is tipsy he get more brave with his PDA, I don’t want to risk forgetting a single moment where he is touching me.

“do you want to walk home?” He doesn’t want to leave, he shouldn’t have to leave because I’m sad that he doesn’t love me.

“no. we should stay, you’re having fun. I’m actually going to go get a drink, maybe it will make me feel better.” He looks at me for a second before letting go of my hip, allowing me to grab a drink.

“”“”“”“”“”

How did I get here?

It’s like one second I was listening to Chris tell a story, and now I’m dancing to some annoying pop song. I need to find Chris, I definitely had a few too many drinks.

I stumbled around for a minute, everything is spinning and making me want to throw up. I don’t know if I can walk all the way home, but I don’t want to make all of them leave early. I grab my phone in an attempt to call Chris, but by the time he picks up I’ve forgotten what I was doing.

“”“”“”“”“”

Chris’s POV

I look down at my phone to see that Y/N is calling me, and it makes me a little worried. I pick the phone up to my ear, trying to head over the sounds of music and talking. I don’t hear her, only making me more worried.

She almost never drinks, because she has a very low tolerance. Last time I saw her, she was already three drinks in and proclaiming her love for the song that was on.

That was an hour ago.

I quickly scour the crowd in an attempt to find her face. And when I do my heart drops.

There she is in her skin tight jeans and corset top, looking lost with tears in her eyes. I rush to her side, immediately pulling the drink from her hand. She looks like she’s about to start crying.

“hey baby, can you look at me please?” When I say that she starts crying and she doesn’t seem like she’s stopping any time soon. “Hey, it’s okay. Do you want to find somewhere quiet so that you can sit down for a minute?” She nods her head aggressively before stumbling towards the bedroom of whoever is hosting.

The Golden Trio

From: Chris

can y’all meet me in the master bedroom, Y/N is really drunk and needs to go home.

From: Nicky Bo Bicky

for sure, I’ll bring some water for her.

I turned to Y/N, she looked out of it. Then all of a sudden life came back to her eyes in the worst way possible. She almost fell down in her attempt to get to the bathroom.

“it’s okay baby” I whispered sweet nothings to her as I held her hair and rubbed her back. Nick and Matt showed up shortly after she finished dry heaving, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her drink anything as fast as she drank that water.

If I thought it was a hassle trying to get her in the car, I had no clue how hard it would be to get her up a flight of stairs. She giggled as I picked her up bridal style… it made me so happy to hear her laughing.

once she got into more comfortable clothes, she fell asleep in no time.

as she held onto me and nuzzled into my side, my heart shattered. All I want is for her to be happy, but I know that I can’t fix everything. I kiss her on the forehead before rolling over and going to sleep.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann

#madi writes things #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris x reader

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