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#it doesn't help that i am physically alone
otdiaftg · 1 day
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WHAT'S NEXT:
The out pouring of love for this blog has swept me off my feet. I knew the logic behind the follower count, but this weekend proved to me without a shadow of a doubt just how much this fandom cherishes these characters and this story.
I am overwhelmed with adoration towards every. single. one. of you.
I took the weekend to finally recoup after the whirlwind of this past year but wanted to take a moment now to answer some of the questions I've seen pop up and to inform you all of what my plans are for what's next.
FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS:
WILL YOU CONTINUE THE ACCOUNT THIS YEAR?
This took me a long time to ponder and I wanted to make sure I was in the correct headspace to answer it. Short answer: No.
Long answer: All For The Game is near and dear to my heart. And the reason I began this account was because the dates for 2023 matched that of the dates they were meant to be in 2006. To continue it in the year 2024 would mean the dates would be completely wrong and a lot more logistics would have to occur beforehand.
But also-- I'm not the best when it comes to technology, especially when it comes to BOTS so every post that was published was typed out, formatted and scheduled by hand by me. I did not have help. I did not have proofreaders, or editors, or managers. I contacted all the artists myself, sorted through every single page of the artists to find matches to the story, read and re-read the books for exact or guesstimation of dates/times, and made a hell of a lot of typos on the way through all that.
There was probably an easier way that I could have done all this. But I didn't/don't know it. So that all boils down to: It’s a long and tiring process.
Don't get me wrong, it was worth all the hours. And all the sleepless nights I had getting everything done and out. I already thanked my support network, but without my wife and my best friend being there to make me another cup of coffee, walk our dog, do the chores and generally make sure I didn't crumble from the pressure -- none of this would have happened.
So, putting myself through that again, after everything that has happened this year alone-- felt like it would cheapen the experience I had when the dates won't even match.
That being said.... 2034 isn't that far away. >__>
WILL YOU BE DOING AN OTDITSC?
Short answer: No.... sorry.
Long answer: As stated, it is VERY hard to organize what and how I did. HOURS spent researching, organizing, scheduling, etc. Time spent away from my family and other hobbies. NOT time I regret (need to keep prefacing that) but time I want back now. At least for a little bit.
It also doesn't sit right for me to start an OTDITSC when I know some people are still waiting for their copies. There are so many of us out here (as I've come to find out) and I don't want to exclude people's enjoyment and connection that this account gives. I also feel like the more posts about TSC out there, the harder it is for those who are (lets say) waiting for the physical copies to block/mute spoilers. We can say a tag is enough, but this is the internet. And that's not always true.
And lastly, personally, TSC is still SO VERY NEW. It's not even complete yet and we don't 100% know when the next one will be published. I don't want to start something, get to the end of the timeline, and than have a huge gap between posts that will potentially be moments in the second book. It doesn't feel fair to their story, to myself, or to the followers of this account to have incorrect information for something I love so dearly. If I'm doing it. I want to do it right.
SO, WHAT'S NEXT?
Well. A lot. For me personally, as well as this account. I don't want to leave everyone in such a finite way. I love this fandom. I love its art and writings and the abundance of talent and joy that it exudes.
So first, for myself, as well as those artists who agreed to help with this account, I want to post, for the next 40 days Artist Highlights (that means this account will still be active until Friday, May 24th).
Every day, I will post about an Artist and the work that I wanted to post but couldn't fit in. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, these artists are the reason this account thrives. Art, in a multitude of forms, speaks in a way words can not. And these artists prove that.
I'm excited to show them off for a couple more weeks at least. They are all wonderful people.
AND, FINALLY:
To also tie us over, I am opening both my personal account as well as this account to questions.
Questions regarding the process, the story, the best movie out in theaters, whatever. I will be answering your questions (as fast as I can) until that last Artists Highlight day (Friday, May 24th). After this day, I will leave the questions answered up for a week, and then remove/delete them from this account. I want to make this more of an archive of sorts and will be updating the Timeline Page as this progresses as well, so you can move freely within the timeline.
Keep in mind that I am only one person, have a family and a full-time job-- so answers may be sporadic, but I will answer them.
This has truly been such a pleasure. And whether I get questions or not, I see you and I appreciate you. I hope your life is filled with everything you ever want, everything you need, and that you never let it go.
🦊 🧡- Kelysium
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fuckyeahisawthat · 1 day
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I've been obsessed with @demon-of-the-ancient-world's post about Paul bandaging his own wounds after the duel with Feyd ever since I saw it. Partially because I am pretty sure he would not be physically able to do it, but he sure would try. So have a little thing.
Eventually, he is able to stop giving orders and having them fervently obeyed long enough to limp over to the hallway leading out of the war room. With every step, he is figuring out how to better hide the limp. His side still fucking hurts.
Close to the relief of the cool dark hallway, he spots a familiar face. Mari, the medic from his old band of fedaykin. Her gaze falters as he approaches.
"Bandages," he requests. At least his voice is still coming out steady.
She fishes in her pack and pulls out a roll. Holds it out to him like an offering, her fingers retreating as soon as he takes it.
She'd once held him down with a knee on his back while she pulled a piece of shrapnel out of his shoulder. Now she is afraid to touch him.
"More," he rasps.
She produces another roll. That should be enough.
There's a little anteroom just off the main chamber. A few Fremen trail after him as he heads there.
"Guard the door," he says to no one in particular. "No one enters." He shuts them all out.
He doesn't remember what this room was used for, in the brief time that he had lived here. It's empty now, save for a stone platform that runs along one wall at waist height. He drops the rolls of bandages on the platform and sags against it.
As soon as he lets the control slip, a wave of nausea washes over him. His head is pounding, blood drying tacky and itchy on his face, and with every breath it feels like both knives are still inside him.
Focus. He hears it in his mother's voice. She taught him this, how to reach inside himself and master pain. Attention stretching inward, finding the nerve endings that are screaming and shutting them down. He'd practiced with an embroidery needle pricking his finger. This is a bit more than that.
He concentrates until everything still hurts, but not so much that he's going to pass out. Probably. Then he starts working the fastenings of his stillsuit loose.
He gets the shoulder straps released and the moisture seal broken at the main seam, but then he's stuck. Pulling the suit off his left shoulder requires raising his right arm, and that comes with a spike of pain and an abrupt tilt of the floor underneath him. He grabs the edge of the platform and has to spend some more time working on not passing out. Starting with his right shoulder proves no better; twisting his torso in that direction makes his vision gray at the edges.
He's leaning heavily against the stone platform trying to figure out what to do when there's a commotion at the door. He hauls himself into standing up straight just as a young man, wide-eyed and with blood all down the front of his stillsuit, gets shoved into the room. "Forgive me, Lisan al-Gaib," the man says. "The scarfless warmaster insists on entering."
It takes him a minute to realize who he is talking about. "Let him in."
The man retreats, and Gurney steps into the room. "My lord." His gaze takes in the bandages, the pathetic progress he's made on removing his stillsuit. He closes the door behind him. "If I may."
Paul nods.
As soon as Gurney peels the stillsuit back from his injured shoulder, he realizes he never could've done it alone. It's a two-handed job, easing his arm out of the garment, and he needs his one free hand to bite down on to keep from making noise.
Gurney helps him slide the suit down to his waist. His torso is painted with blood but there's nothing to clean it with now. Best to focus on keeping any more from coming out.
Together they bandage his side, then his shoulder. Gurney's hands are not unkind but they are pragmatic, efficient, not flinching away from his wounds but not lingering either. There is no talking save Paul telling him to wrap the bandage tighter.
He remembers a time, long ago. Sitting on a storage chest in the staging room of the parade grounds below Castle Caladan, watching Gurney help his father put his armor on.
There had been a surrender--of whom, he can't remember. He could not have been more than five or six at the time. Generals of the army they'd just defeated coming to sign the armistice agreement, but with enough resentment about it that everyone was nervous, and his father was wearing armor to declare peace.
There had been no talking then, either. Just Gurney moving practically around his father, an extra pair of hands for pauldrons and breastplate and greaves, while his father practiced the speech he was going to give under his breath, making subtle adjustments to tone and emphasis along the way. He doesn't remember the speech, only the feeling, Gurney preparing his father's body while his father prepared himself in other ways.
That is what is happening now.
Once they get his shoulder wrapped as tight as they can, Gurney helps him ease the stillsuit back on. Gurney still needs some direction to get it laced properly, the Fremen way, but having another pair of hands to pull the straps tight over his shoulders means he only has to grit his teeth, not spend time waiting for the room for stop spinning.
He takes a few test steps across the room. The bandage around his ribs restricts his breathing a little, but it makes walking slightly less painful. That will do.
He pulls himself up to his full height, straight-backed, head held high. The posture of an emperor. Ready for battle.
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thestormynobody · 15 hours
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The ace rep in isat means the world to me
Bare with me here i am not always good at words and i just wanted to ramble a lil
Spoilers for act 3
Ace rep is still pretty rare in media let alone anyone who is explicitly aroace. Lots of ace rep makes the characters aro by default without intentionality behind it duo to inherently missing the difference between ace and aro folks. I've also seen some instances of making ace or aro coded characters cold and detached from people at large
(we are going to ignore this gets reset in the timeloops its still good character writing)
Mirabelle doesn't want to date and while Siffrin cannot relate to this aspect they are able to help her come to a realization about her own identity by relaying thier own experience of being ace. They help her to feel less alienated in her identity and resolve to try and make changes for other folks who may feel alienated by the way the change belief (or society) has deemed romantic and or sexual relationships as important to one's identity.
Because yeah. Not being in or even wanting to be in a relationship does not make you less of a person.
And like. I ADORE Mira as the games aroace rep. She's emotional! She cares so deeply for the people around her. She likes romance books but is content with that to remain in the world of fiction which is a pretty common aro experience from my understanding (I am demiromantic ace so my experiences are a bit different). I just think that the canon aroace rep in the game being the girl who reacts to everything so strongly and loves horror books is neat. Mira has so much love in her heart for people without having to have any of it be romanticly motivated
i also like that despite being in her 20s she's still figuring out parts of her identity like this. It's a very relatable experience for me who also started figuring a lot of this stuff out as I got older
Sif being a touch avoidant touched starved ace though. He just like me fr fr. I have so many thoughts on how he still craves physical intimacy (non sexually obviously) and how that sort of thing is kinda ignored in a lot of ace media.
idk if any of this made sense but i love these characters so much i have to ramble about em a lil sometimes
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cosmojjong · 1 year
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my grandpa ended up passing away only 11 days after i saw him and what hurts most right now is trying to deal with such a sudden loss and the fact that i can't go to his funeral. i don't know what to do with myself
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martsonmars · 1 year
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desperately trying not to have a panic attack about university hehehe
#literally the only thing i'm supposed to do is study#am i doing it? nope of course. i have less than a month left to take exams and i should take at least 2 but i haven't opened a book in more#than a month and the thought fills me with dread and i literally physically cannot do it#it's possible that going back to my uni flat would help (it would be a change in scenery for sure) but on wednesday it will be a year since#my father died and there's this fucking church thing and my mother won't force me to stay but i really should. shouldn't i?#after all it's already saturday and i've already wasted 40 days. what's half a week more?#i keep staring at the list of exams and i know that if i spent every waking second studying i could get back on track and graduate when i'm#supposed to graduate but 1. it's not healthy and 2. my brain refuses to study for ONE exam let alone 14 so it's unrealistic#and at this point i should just accept that i'm going to graduate one year late and one year after all my friends because last year i did#absolutely nothing. and last autumn started out great. i moved. i was organised. and then the first week of october my mother was at the#hospital and i had to go home for a week and somehow i let that week screw up my entire semester#and now i'm panicking because i have only 18 days before the exam i'm supposed to take and it doesn't feel enough for everything i have to#study but it's not going to get better if i just let all the days pass without doing anything but i can't i can't i can't#so yeah i should be kind to myself and accept i'll need one additional year for all the exams and take it slowly which is the only way to#actually get things done. but i don't want to. i don't want to tell my mother that i failed at the one thing i'm supposed to be doing#but i really really can't it's hard and i'm failing and my head is screaming that i don't deserve hobbies and yet i keep wasting my days#it's one am and i should either sleep or relax because it's not like i can do anything now and yet i feel like i need to fix my entire life#right this second or i'll explode. i'm so tired of my thoughts.#please ignore all this ^ because i know most of it is irrational or whatever and i DON'T WANT to hear rational things#if you've read until here and really want to say something just tell me that right now i'm allowed to relax#any other comment would make me feel worse#💖💖💖#**one month left to take exams this semester not forever hahaha but then i'd be supposed to take all the remaining exams in the summer#and i can't possibly take 14 exams between now and july which is why i'm panicking (there are other logistically confusing things in what i#said but i wanted to clear this one up at least lmao) (i'm already feeling vaguely better can't you see?)
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nexus-nebulae · 3 months
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damn i actually had a pretty good streak there of not having bad insomnia days. that's pretty impressive for me like i haven't really had one since early January
#usually i get them like. maybe once a week#i think it's partially my new meds?#got some meds for anxiety and oh my GOD i finally have something that WORKS instead of fucking lexapro AGAIN#literally all my doctors would go LEXAPRO!! even though it's never fuckin worked for me#BUT I'm on remeron now and it's WORKING#and i made sure to make my Scheduled Pill Time as something i could almost never miss (my mom getting home from work)#bc it's around the same time every day within a half hour range and since i have an outside reminder it helps me actually form a habit#i cannot form habits without outside help it's just. nearly impossible for me#and the meds do make me kind of tired but not enough that I'm fucking constantly sleeping like when i was on seroquel#i can actually fucking THINK through this tired it doesn't just completely take me out 100% of the time#I'm just Slightly Sleepy instead of a zombie#and it helps remind me that I'm tired bc usually i don't notice any physical feelings#(is there a word for that??????? i tried googling but it constantly gave me alexythemia which is not feeling EMOTION)#(when this is like. i can't feel tired or hungry or pain sometimes. or at least i lose the ability to be aware that I'm feeling it)#but anyway the new meds make me just tired enough to remember i need sleep#and i mean. i am sleeping slightly early but 8:30 isn't that bad i don't think#at least i have time to. you know. do stuff between the hours of 5-8 (the only hours my mom is home + stores is open)#and tbh staying up alone all night isn't. the best. for my mental health#i don't handle being alone well. and Pulse is being a dick about system barriers :P (/lh we know why it's needed rn)#we have. a deep deep fear of isolation. like not just being alone but Not Being Able To Call For Help At All#at least with phone/computer we have One outlet for help with emergency services so that helps slightly#we worry a lot about. what would happen. if we had a medical emergency. and nobody knew bc i couldn't contact anyone#mostly. the fear of Something Bad happening and not being found until hours or days later#i like being awake during the day tho bc theres Way More Options for help#and like the fear of Not Being Found doesn't go away like. ever#but at least when people are awake and around its lessened a lot#the fear increases exponentially with each possible second added to the wait time#so knowing that it's just One hour until mom is home and can check on me is a lot better than Nobody's Awake For 5 More Hours#(and my mom is deaf too so i can't just like. scream for help to wake her up)#(not that i can physically scream at all anyway my voice just cannot handle that anymore)
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luveline · 2 months
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Bombshell reader and Spencer finding out she’s pregnant
fem!reader, 1.5k
cw for pregnancy / reader wants to be pregnant
“This is such a peculiar feeling.” 
Spencer’s ready for you physically before his mind has caught up, his hand reaching out for you despite his eyes steadfast on the book he has held to his knee. Legs crossed, relaxing in the supple leather of one of his armchairs, Spencer almost forgot you were here. “What?” he asks. 
“What did I say, or what’s peculiar?” 
“What’s peculiar?” he asks, letting the book fall down the side of his thigh. 
You shuffle closer to his legs, looking down at your clasped hands. “I feel really weird. For a few days. A bit sick, I think.” 
He’s not expecting you to say that; it’s been such a quiet evening, and you haven’t mentioned being ill once yet, despite having slept here and spent the day here in your soft pyjamas. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 
Because the thing is, Spencer loves you more than he’s ever loved anybody. It’s immediately unnerving for him to hear you aren’t well, because he doesn't want you to have a single shred of strife in your life, not even a papercut. He pulls you closer and closer, looking up into your face, begging to know what’s wrong and unashamed or caring so much. “You’re worrying me,” he prods when you don’t answer. 
“Sorry, I’m just…” You lean forward gently. Spencer takes your weight to his side, his cheek to your chest. You face down, wrapping an arm behind his shoulder. “Just have a funny feeling,” you whisper. 
“What kind of feeling?” he asks. Spencer could tell you a hundred different facts on funny feelings, gut feelings, and intuition, but that’s not strictly helpful right now. Then again, he knows he’s loved, and so he says the most burning one aloud before he forgets, “Intuition is based on the collating of facts by your brain to predict future events. It’s usually unconscious.” 
You touch his hair mindlessly. “Is it usually right?” 
“I think that’s up to opinion. Why, angel?” he asks, letting his voice slip into a deeper, settled rasp. He hopes it says what he’s trying to prove to you every single day, that he will take care of you for as long as you’ll let him. “What are you thinking is wrong?” 
“I don’t know if it’s wrong…” 
He’s so confused. “You can tell me anything,” he assures you, pulling at your hands. There’s room in the armchair for you so long as you’re okay with putting your legs over his, and you are, curling up next to him with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 
“I know, Spencer. Just let me think about it for a minute.” 
“Okay.” He takes your hand once again. For a few minutes he waits in the quiet, rubbing small circles into the back of your hand, trying hard not to look at you lest you feel pressured to talk. 
“Okay,” you say quietly, “I have a few things in that bag I brought over for emergencies, you know? In the bathroom. And I have a pregnancy test in there, so I’m going to take it. How do you… how would you feel about that?” 
“I’d feel whatever you needed me to,” he says instinctively, the word pregnancy on a flashing look in his mind’s eye. “You think you might be pregnant?” 
“Before I take it, before, is that a bad thing if I am?” 
He’s shocked to see you acting this way, so far from your regularly scheduled programming. Spencer always assumed that if you ever did become pregnant, he’d learn about it like everybody else. You’d tell him with a big smile or a proud kiss and go about your day. You know what you're worth, and to be pregnant is your decision, your body. 
“Of course not,” he says, frowning. 
“Are you sure?” 
“Why are you asking me?” 
“Because it’s something that would affect both of us?” 
“No, of course, of course, angel, I just mean, why would it ever be a bad thing?” He puts his hand on your neck. “Unless you think it is.” 
“This isn’t something I get to just decide by myself, this decision. I can’t make it alone,” you say. 
“Yes you can.” He cups your neck. “But I’d love to make it with you.” 
You smile. He can tell you’re going to share your thoughts with him before you do, your eyes clearing with worry for now, and instead shining with your usual, breath-stealing light. “I hope I am,” you say. 
He hadn’t known he’d feel this way until right this second. “I hope you are too.” 
Your giggle sounds ever so slightly teary and hug him. You kiss his neck, and then you spring out of his lap to drag him with you to the bathroom. It’s a straightforward process but the waiting is agony, you and him sitting on the counter by the sink basin, hands squeezing at each other's fingers with the test baking on his thigh. 
“This is crazy,” you murmur. “We were having a normal day.” 
“Normal to amazing would be good,” he says. 
“What are we gonna do?” 
“Well, I’ll have to make some more money.” 
“I’m serious.” 
“So am I,” he says with a laugh. “Do you know how expensive children are?” 
“How did your mom afford you and your three PhDs?” 
“I got most of that stuff for free,” he says, “on account of being smart for my age.” 
You laugh softly. “That’s one way to say it.” 
Spencer leans down to kiss your shoulder. “We’ll have to move in together. Like, forever.” 
“Oh no.” You prop your head on his. “I basically live here anyways. All the time.” 
We’ll have to get married, Spencer thinks, but that’s not necessarily true, and then thinks it should probably be a surprise, before he says, “And I’ll have to ask you to marry me.” 
“Not just because I’m–”
“No, not just because you’re pregnant,” he says, though neither of you know yet if that’s true. “Never.” 
“That would be admirable.” 
He doesn’t know about that, but he knows one thing. “I love you. Really. More than anything.” 
“Don’t worry, Spencer. I love you too.” 
“Would that be something you wanted?” he asks quietly. 
“I’ll say yes whenever you want to ask me,” you say, equally as quiet. “I would’ve said yes five years ago.” You weren’t together five years ago, and he believes it anyways.
Spencer kisses up your cheek and pulls you into his side with a last press of his lips to your temple. The test on his thigh hasn’t changed. It’s a digital one, so you’ll know for sure just as soon as it’s ready. He feels like he can’t breathe right, waiting, waiting, wishing. 
“I’m with you no matter what,” he says under his breath. 
“I know.” You turn your lips into his cheek, breath fanning his skin. “You know pregnancy makes a woman more beautiful, right?” 
“I don’t see how that could possibly happen to you, but I’m excited nonetheless.” 
You laugh and smile into his cheek, kissing the slight hollow of it tenderly. 
On your thigh, the test blinks to Pregnant. 
You don’t notice, too busy kissing him still, your smile hard to ignore as you mumble, “If I’m pregnant, and we’re gonna do all those things you said before, I promise I’ll make you happy, Spence. I’m gonna be good to you. We’re going to be so, so happy, we’re gonna have a house with a garden and a hundred types of flowers, and we’ll keep bees at the end of it, and we’ll have two libraries for all your books, three if you want it, and–”
“I’ll make you happy,” he echoes, “I promise. I’m gonna take care of everything.” 
“–the nursery…” You stop kissing him, hearing what it is he hasn’t managed to say in the wavering tone of his voice. You look down as he passes you the test. 
“No matter what you want,” he swears. 
Your happy tears are plentiful and not what he’s expecting. You wrap your arms around his neck and cry with your legs hanging off of the counter, the test digging into his shoulder, drawing a line over his skin as you check it to be sure and prompt another round of tears. They aren’t loud tears. Your sniffles are half giggle. 
“We never do things in the right order,” you say, blissfully happy. 
“I don’t think there’s a wrong one.” His turn now to press kisses to your tacky cheek.
“We used to hold hands under the round table.” You shudder with tears. 
Lovelorn and unsure, not even dating, your fingers sewn together under the conference table as someone spoke you through the case of the day. His heart in his throat, and your thumb rubbing circles so slowly into his skin his wrist would ache for hours afterwards remembering. You and Spencer have always done things in your own order, and he’d never say wrong. 
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suuuupernovaaa · 10 months
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Treat | Hobie Brown x f!Reader
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Your innocent image is shattered when Hobie finds your hidden piercing.
Art credit.
Requested by @friedturtlewhispers. Essentially this, with a different piercing.
Mature. Smut. 18+.
The show hasn't been over for two minutes yet when I feel two strong hands on my waist, gripping tight and pulling me backwards. I nearly spill my drink on the already sticky floor of this underground bar as Hobie spins me around, and brings his lips crashing down on to mine.
"Oh!" I let out a muffled gasp of surprise, and feel Hobie's lips turn up into a smile as they still rest against mine. He pulls away, and takes my drink out of my hand. He brings it to his nose, and takes a sniff. "Gin?" He wrinkles his nose, and I open my mouth to defend my choice, but he's already downed it in one gulp.
"Let's get out of here," he says, grabbing my hand and pulling.
"Oh, okay - bye!" I say over my shoulder to the guy I was talking to at the bar - a big fan of the band, who stands with his jaw agape. I find it awkward to mention that I'm sort of, semi, casually but not really casually, dating a band member. It feels like bragging, probably because I'm so proud of it.
We're outside in the cool night air before I know it, and there's a ringing in my ears from the show.
"Did you like it?" Hobie asks as we turn right, heading towards my apartment.
"I always like it," I reply, squeezing his hand. "Why did we leave so fast?"
He leans over, smirking down at me. "I want to be alone with you."
--
As I flop back onto the couch, I hand Hobie the beer he requested. He takes it, and immediately leans forward, setting it on the coffee table. before even taking a drink.
Unable to help myself, I pick it up and place it on the coaster that was only inches away.
Hobie rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "You can't spend your whole life cleaning up after me."
I shrug. "Sure I can."
He bumps his shoulder into mine, and I lean back into him. Even though I enjoy spending the weekends out with Hobie, lingering in the bars after his shows until the wee hours, it feels so much more my speed to be back home before midnight, relaxed on the couch, just the two of us.
"This is nice," I say with a contented sigh. Hobie's feet are up on the coffee table, and my legs are crossed, one of my knees resting in his lap. He runs his fingers over my bare leg, starting on my shin and up over my knee. The lights are off, and the dull light of a horror film is the only thing lighting the room. I don't really like scary movies, but Hobie enjoys them as background noise.
I lay my head on his shoulder as his hand moves further up, brushing against the fabric of my skirt, and pausing for a moment as if to ask for permission.
We've been seeing each other for a while, enjoying each other's company and getting to know each other, but physically, it hasn't gone all that far. It almost has, a few times, but Hobie's always had some emergency to attend to.
I feel a little foolish... but I'd almost like to be able to call him my boyfriend before we go any further. I know we're adults, but the label means something to me, anyway.
When I don't protest, his fingers snake up under my skirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. My breathing is coming more rapidly now, my heart pounding, and his fingers are almost at my panties now. I'm stiff as a board, tense, waiting for his next move.
"Before we... can I ask you something?" I say.
"Anything, love," he replies, but doesn't move his hand. He's tracing soft circles on my inner thigh, and it's hard to gather my thoughts. I remove my head from his shoulder so I can look at him.
His eyes are dark, his lips parted just slightly, and when I glance down, I see the bulge in his pants. I feel an ache in my lower stomach, and wetness between my thighs.
"Are you, or like, am I your..." The words are going as fast as they're coming, and my mouth is dry.
"You're my girl. My only girl. I'm yours." His words are assertive, sure, and his gaze is locked steadily on mine.
I grab his shirt, pulling him to me for a desperate kiss, so elated with his words and so beyond ready for him to do absolutely anything he wants to me.
Leaning back to lay on the couch, I pull him so that he's on top of me, he settles between my legs while his tongue explores my mouth.
His hand finds its way up my thigh again, and runs underneath the waistband of my underwear. His thumb dips down and brushes softly over my clit, and I gasp.
So does he.
"What's that?" he asks, and a blush settles over my cheeks. He sits up just a little, so he can look me in the eyes. "Is that a... piercing?"
I purse my lips a little and nod. "Yes."
"Fuck me, Y/N." He brings his mouth back to mine with twice the fervor of before, and pulls my panties to the side as he does, running two warm fingers over my clit, down to my entrance, and back. "I can't believe... you have that pierced. Oh, fuck, I'm so hard," he moans into my mouth, and I arch my back off the couch as he uses his fingers to trace circles around my piercing.
"Oh, Hobie," I moan, grasping his back. He sits up suddenly, removing his hand from me, and I collapse back onto the couch in a huff.
He takes his vest and shirt off, and then pulls my panties and skirt down over my legs. There isn't a moment to breath before his face is between my legs, and he takes my clit into his mouth, sucking and biting gently, then dragging his tongue down to my entrance to gather the wetness that is quickly forming there.
"Hobie!" I gasp, holding his shoulders tightly. He doesn't let up. He brings up two fingers, teasing at my entrance as he takes my clit back into his mouth, and pushes them gently inside me. "Oh, God," I moan, pressing down onto his fingers as they fuck me.
He's making the most delicious noises, humming and grunting and moaning as he works, showing me no mercy. I feel absolutely desperate with need, and every time he thrusts his fingers in, I grind down on them.
"Oh, god, oh, shit," I gasp as he brings me closer and closer to the edge. He rolls the piercing around his mouth with expert precision, working delicately and then biting down, keeping me always guessing, driving me to ecstasy.
He pulls away just for a moment to look up at me. "Cum for me," he demands, and when he brings his lips back to my swollen mound, I explode. I scream his name as I do, unashamedly loud in my orgasm, and he continues his assault, giving me wave after wave of pleasure, until I am absolutely exhausted.
He brings his head up to mine, and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him.
"What the fuck, Y/N?" he says with a teasing smile, and kisses me firmly. "That's a hell of a surprise."
I grin shyly back at him. "That's the point."
"You're so... innocent. Your ears aren't even pierced! You almost never swear. You go to church, for christ sake!"
I roll my eyes. "Only on holidays with my parents."
"Still," he replies with a laugh. "What a fuckin' treat."
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doberbutts · 10 months
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Anyway yes, people who can X should be accomodating to people who can't X. People who can walk should accomodate people who can't. People who can hear should accomodate people who can't. People who can see should accomodate people who can't. And on and on. When that doesn't happen, it's a problem that deserves to be talked about.
But the problem is not and has never been "physical disabilities are more important and deserve more accomodations than mental disabilities"- nor the other way around either.
People love to dunk on folks with ADD/ADHD but you know? As someone with ADD raised by diabetic parents I gotta say there's a lot of similarities here. People with ADD, myself included, often forget to eat and when they do eat they often load themselves up with carbs and sugars because those foods make their brains feel good. People with diabetes have to closely monitor their meals and often crave sugars and need a blend of sugary and protein-rich snacks on hand. This is not to say ADD and diabetes are exact one-to-one disabilities.
But having grown up watching my parents manage their diabetes, I too am very aware of meal times and blood sugar and constructing meals that will tide you over and having a blend of sugary and protein-rich snacks on hand Just In Case. I am able to manage my ADD better in this way because I have experience from watching my parents. I also need access to snacks and to be able to say to my boss "I need to go eat something real fast" without being punished.
I had a training client who was the image of "able bodied mentally ill" outside of the usual creaks and squeaks associated with age, her body worked just fine. But after a series of incidents in her youth- a car accident that left her with a serious brain injury, coming home from the hospital afterwards to immediately have her house broken into and herself raped by an intruder, and assorted medical malpractice while she was healing from both- she has a serious and extreme case of agoraphobia and spent the next 40 years completely unable to leave the house. She would hide and wail and scream when deliveries of groceries and other goods would come, because it meant a stranger (and usually a man) would be at her door. She could not go more than a couple steps outside to get her mail and especially not if other people were outside.
At some point her therapist suggested getting a pet, one that *had* to go outside, to help her. So she got a dog and contacted a trainer (me) and we got to work. And she did improve! The dog has been a huge help to managing her symptoms! But you cannot seriously expect me to have worked with this woman for years and then belittle mental illnesses as being lesser when this woman also shares the inability to even leave her house let alone go inside a grocery store. Even today there are times when she simply cannot, she cannot will her body to move out of her door and into transportation let alone into the building.
When she first started coming to me she thanked me for not belittling her or making her feel bad for classes she had to cancel because she couldn't force herself to take the first step over the threshold. That is when she told me what happened to her and that while it sounds terrible she was really happy to have found a trainer who knew something personal about trauma and brain injuries. She is also a case where I feel her ESA should be considered service dog not because of training or tasking but because her need is so high and she is just completely incapable of doing anything without the dog in her arms.
Anyway I think of her any time someone says "but you can walk through the door". There's nothing wrong with her legs so in theory sure she could. But often she *can't*, not because of anything physical, but because she is very severely mentally ill.
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blkgirl-writing · 5 months
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The massive list of SFW and NSFW Gale Dekarios headcanons
Gale of Waterdeep x Reader (Gn! for the most part)
A/N: the more I write Gale, the more in love with him I am. I started this before patch 5 and haven't been able to play it myself, so whoopsies if I just have to make another one of these. Lots of requests included in this one, to be expanded on later!
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Gale is the most caring partner in the whole group. Followed by karlach and Wyll
He would much rather do everything for you than anything for him
This means he often over extends himself for you and you have to convince him to let you help him
Quality time and words of affirmation are his main love languages. All he wants is time alone with you, and he will do so much to make that happen
Gale actually sets up his tent to be as comfortable as possible because you don't have your own tent, and he doesn't mind at all if you sleep in his
eventually you basically just sleep in his tent exclusively, platonically at the moment. Sleeping on other sides or with a blanket between you
It isn't until you wake up from a particularly bad nightmare that your accidental touches aren't followed by apologies. Not quite embracing but not flinching away
He held you that night, wrapping his arms around you, his hands were big, soft, and comforting. He didn't speak until you did, who knows how long that was. All he said was "You're safe. It's ok."
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He truly believes he doesn’t deserve you and that weighs kind of heavy on him
That shows in his body movements, confidence, still hesitant to be close to you physically in an extremely subtle way
With more flirting, more talking, more late nights close together, but still apart, still a gap in your embrace
Gale is still in touch with his sexuality and sex, but sex is different than love making. And he knew, when he fully let you in, when he’s finally stable and his mind, body, and soul were ready, he’d make love to you
Your first time together was for the most part, pretty talked through. You set your boundaries and safe word pretty fast
He’d stop at some point, pull back and just admire you
Stop is used lightly because he’s definitely still inside you and just very slowly still pumping in and out of you
“You’re absolutely ravishing.”
And he’d give himself fully to you
Gods he’d be all over you after, so touchy, even if not sexual in nature, any tough felt electric
Gale holds your waist more than your hand, it feels more romantic, showing you off to the world as someone that chose him. It’s really sweet, the first time he does it, he hand trembled a bit, he thought he was smooth enough for you not to tell but you could definitely feel it
Don’t get me wrong, he is confident and cocky at times, everyone knows that. But with you somehow, he feels nervous that you deserve more than he could give
Part of your early relationship is making sure he knows he’s wanted and loved and more than anything you could have wished for
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Cuddling is always fun because it usually end up with fucking
If you’re the big spoon? He becomes such an angel and snuggles into your touch
If he’s big spoon he’s immediately turned on by everything, you being so close into him, your ass pressed against him, so many beautiful places for him to touch
Always ends in side fucking, just pulling your underwear down just enough to grind his cock on your bare ass
It’s also just convenient and easy if you’re getting busy while the others are sleeping in camp
But many days your time has you weak and just ready for rest, but you're both more horny than tired
that's when mutual masturbation becomes a daily routine, which never really leaves, even when you aren't as tired and have more privacy
he likes you call you his cherished work of art, seeing you spread for him is like a painting
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One night in baldurs gate, you stay up into the morning drinking and talking in a bar, they only kicked you out when they literally were an hour last close, keeping it open because you had bought so much
It was literally anything, just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Past pets, stupid haircuts growing up, embarrassing failures
That was the night everyone else really realized how deeply in love you two were
Like sure there was romance but real true love, with sparks
They absolutely made fun of you when you finally stumbled to your camp and passed out all day crammed into the small one person beds
I like to believe Astarion drew a stick figure version of y’all’s sleeping position to make fun of you when you woke
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Once you’ve moved in with him he gets more and more turned on by you every day
You could be doing nothing and he’d grab your thigh and give you such a dirty look of lust
Not even three months in and ya'll have fucked on every surface possible, knocked over many books, and accidentally broke a vase and a bit in the shower
For the most part, your cozy days consist of him reading, and you beside him, feet resting on his lap
If you're a bard, of course he's going to ask you to practice and play around him and while you relax together, his favorite sounds all come from your sweet melodies
if you drink you definitely share a bottle of wine throughout the day
When Gale get's tipsy he just gets lovey and nerdy
telling you about a favorite bit of history or a spell, interrupting himself to compliment you "Gods you're beautiful, have I told you that today, dear?" and "And that's how the stars fell in love with- that top is stunning my love, mind if I take it off?"
cooking is fun yet very stressful unless he has a drink in hand
it's his kitchen and he's not used to company in it, so he often bumps into you or doesn't know where to say something is, so he just ends up getting it for you
I have a feeling this man is super into coffee and the roasts
like he's an absolute snob over it. A whole glass cupboard is dedicated to bags of coffee from where ever he travels
"Just too dark of a roast, it muddies the hazelnut flavor" (yes I believe he's a whole bean light roast lover)
Maybe you get a normal, non-speaking cat for yourself and just to have a bigger family in your home
I'd imagine a very reckless black or ginger cat who tara takes a VERY long time to love
but it's your and Gales cat. It's a thing you own together and love dearly
There's also a self of cards, board games, etc, for your date nights in
Gale legitimately is just as happy if you win than if he, if not more happy for you
He often takes a while to take his turn because he's distracted by you
super sweet but makes games feel much longer
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@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen
(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)
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sunsetsimon · 6 months
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simon 'ghost' riley x reader
mentions of ptsd, abuse, torture, touch aversion, nightmares
always remember, you are loved and cared for. reach out if you need help, i am always here to provide resources. you are not alone, do not go through this alone.
─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────
☼ jealousy. it wasn't a feeling that simon felt often, and not in the ways most people experienced it, he could care less about any materialistic items. his jealousy would stir in his stomach when he saw people doing to them - normal things. a hug goodbye, holding hands, it was all foreign to him.
he's used to a playful punch from soap or a pat on the shoulder from price, but he never initiates. when you first get together, he's uncomfortable with physical affection and will often unintentionally shut you down. your hand will reach for his but he doesn't move, not even noticing you attempting to touch him. he won't hug you before he leaves, only giving a nod and heading out.
he knows it hurts you but it's hard.
slowly he works on it, giving a loving squeeze and reaching for your hand, but it's a long process before it becomes an unconscious habit.
☼ simon doesn't sleep much to begin with, but when it gets bad, he starts to have nightmares almost every night. they're intense, seeming to last forever, as if he'd lived days in the dream. his sleepy mumbling will turn into physical reactions, his body starting to twitch, fists clenching so hard his knuckles turn white. gasping awake he shoots up, his hand immediately on his gun and ready for combat. he's sweaty, heart beating so fast it seemed like it'd jump out of his chest.
"you okay, si?" you whisper from beside him, snapping him back to reality. simon takes a deep breath, setting his pistol back down on the nightstand, unable to speak. immediately you recognize it was another nightmare, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his back. his head drops into his hands, needing to take time to relearn what his reality is; he's home, he's with you.
but fuck, why doesn't it feel that way then? why is he haunted every time he closes his eyes?
"'m so tired," he mumbles, fighting back tears of frustration and pain, trying not to question what he did to deserve this hell he calls his own mind.
"i know si... i wish i could take it all away," you attempt to comfort him, but know that nothing you do could help him right now, he just needs time. he gives your arm a pat before standing up, leaving to take time for himself. you hear his footsteps trail down the stairs and a door open, simon deciding to retreat to the garage for the next few hours until he feels okay again.
☼ he wouldn’t ever tell you what actually happened to him, just making vague comments here and there when the opportunity arises. he's scared to talk about it, not wanting to remember anything or try to process it.
your soft fingers trail along the pale scars littered across his skin, wondering what must've happened to him, all the pain he's been through. you stop at a small one on his left wrist, "how'd you get this one?"
"my dad was a piece of shit," and he leaves it at that. you don't push any further, accepting the curt answer with a nod. you softly kiss the scar, beautiful eyes flickering to his. it's things like this that slowly heal him, and instead of thinking of the pain that came with each scar, he thinks of your lips kissing each one as if that'd make it all better. you make it all better.
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nerinefy · 15 days
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ A LIFE WITH HIM ; FT. some OVERBLOT BOYS .𖥔 ݁ ˖
★ synopsis: how will they be like as your partner?
★ details: you/yours | headcanon | too much fluff | 1,000+ words
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✦ ┊RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
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PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)
★ not too big on PDA, so expect that the most skin-to-skin contact you two can have outside is the occasional hand-holding. he likes it when he's the one initiating the gesture whenever you two are out and about since he still can't help but have the need to be in control even after his overblot (like leading you to places and making sure ur still by his side).
★ he doesn't admit it but he loves when you link your arm with his and nuzzle your face into his shoulder (although he will still scold you if you do it) ESPECIALLY when he's in a mood and is almost about to off the heads of some rule-breakers OR maybe when you're giving too much attention to a rando because he may not admit it but he's greedy and wants your eyes on him only (but he's a gentleman and will never speak about it, only dismissing his inappropriate thoughts.)
★ in private though he's just a snuggly little cuddle bug, even more so if he's tired or stressed or most likely both. so many responsibilities are piled up on his plate just in his second year so the only thing that keeps his shit together is your warm and loving embrace. HE'S A SMALL SPOON. NO BACKSIES, okay maybe he's a big spoon if you're the one who needs a little more loving.
GIFT-GIVING
★ i mean from the name itself ROSEHEARTS, roses are his go-to (he's corny but we love him like that), but if you have a different favorite flower then he'll get those, and if you're allergic he'll try to make those handmade ones! although a little sloppy, pretty successful for his first try. overall he likes giving the traditional gifts like bouquets, stuffed animals, and chocolates :) but if he gets to know you more it might be more personal and intimate stuff that fits your tastes, and of course, should be of use to you too.
THE SIMPLE THINGS
★ whenever you're stuck on a study session late at night he likes inviting you to take a break and brew some tea for you. he'll even share some sweets that Trey gave him. although he won't leave you alone after he finds you like that, instead he pulls out some reviewers he has and helps you work on whatever you find difficult to understand.
WORD AFFIRMATIONS
★ "Our race is nowhere near finished, so please my rose, stay strong, I know you can and want to do so. I am always by your side okay?"
✦ ┊LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
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PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)
★ hugs, hugs, and MORE HUGS. just lots of hugs! doesn't matter if he's a big spoon or small spoon, he needs you by his side 24/7, 365. he just has to have his scent all over you u know, half-breed things. this man is just lazing around anywhere so might as well bring his favorite pillow with him. and no, he doesn't care if you have class and need to take a test worth half your grade, he needs you more! ★ of course, he doesn't have long-ass hair for nothing, go be his peasant and brush it, most preferably with your fingers if he's having a good hair day. your soft fingers massaging his scalp are quite literally going to take him to heaven, and he'll have no regrets tho so go pocket something if that happens. ★ he doesn't pick favorites when it comes to giving and receiving physical affection, he just wants his hands all over you and if the job is done then he's good.
GIFT-GIVING
★ honestly man, i don't know with him. he's raised right so of course he gives you stuff like flowers and so on. on the other hand tho he isn't the type to know what you like and will most likely just ask you what you want him to give you. maybe he'll just take you to go fetch them at the store itself if he isn't sure. but on special days like your birthday or your anniversary (assuming ya'll would last more than a week), he actually tries and it's pretty sweet and more elaborate.
THE SIMPLE THINGS
★ whenever he's forcibly on a call with his brother, which surprisingly is turning into a regular thing, if Farena asks about how he's doing, Leona likely ends up only yapping about you. i mean yeah he missed his last test and he spent his allowance for the month in a week but does Farena know about the time you were mumbling Leona's name in your sleep? he will deny it if he's called out for doing so. NO, HE DID NOT PERIOD. *hangs up*
WORD AFFIRMATIONS
★ "Whatever you're thinking of, don't. It's stupid. As much as I don't like admitting this, you're strong, and even more than most beastmen if you set your mind to your goals."
✦ ┊AZUL ASHENGROTTO
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PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)
★ man's busy all the time so it's hard to get your hands on him. even if he's not busy, he will sprint for his life just to get away from you. not that he dislikes your affection, the concept is just a little foreign to him. give him time to adjust, then you'll find out how soft his tentacles are! ★ when he's actually busy and working on stuff in his office (when the time comes and he's comfortable) he likes it when you flop yourself on his lap and nuzzle into his chest. he feels guilty that he can't give full focus to you since his schedule truly is packed but you inviting yourself into his office at late hours of the day just to snuggle comforts and assures him in some way. he'll definitely find more time for you, he's trying his best lol! ★ overall he isn't one to initiate the touching even if he's fully vulnerable for you. idk too ask him about it. he's just happy you like him enough that you cling unto him. but if you ask him he may favor hand-holding the most, it may be the least contact but feeling your hand on his is enough for him.
GIFT-GIVING
★ HE KNOWS EVERYTHING. i'm not even kidding, even when it's no special day he'd likely buy stuff just because it reminded him of you or when you coincidentally need it which is pretty cute but can be a little creepy.
THE SIMPLE THINGS
★ i saw a fic back then that said he gives you some coupons and by some i mean a TON in hopes that you visit the Lounge and that is absolutely true. though he forgets you two are together and he can ask you nicely to come over but who can say no to 30% off all menu items?
WORD AFFIRMATIONS
★ "My, how could I ever deny what that cute head of yours and those strong arms of yours can do! You are a valuable asset to me...what kind of asset? Well...it's up to you to decide."
✦ ┊JAMIL VIPER
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PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECIEVING)
★ he's also busy, honestly might be one of the, or if not the busiest of all of these guys. when you two have time to be together tho, even if he's knocked out and drained, he'll never show it. but i can say that's only during the early stages of your relationship with him and depending on how you two met. he likes to present himself in his best state and he really can't do so with his schedule so eventually he just melts and the next thing you know he's hugging you from the back any chance he gets and you feel his heartbeat turn slower by the minute. ★ for those moments that he sees you out and about though he likes patting your cute lil head, no matter what your height is. though he is trying to be a little adventurous with you so he leans in to caress your hair gently and suddenly you're met with a quick smooch. (only when there's no one else in sight so yeah adventurous my ass) ★ like leona, he loves it when you play with his hair, and he does not like to admit it. just remember to keep it neat and use a brush while you're at it, plus a facial and maybe a massage because i know those muscles are TIGHT.
GIFT-GIVING
★ his gifts reek of HANDMADE. idk he has those vibes. handmade flowers, or some origami of cute animals, but he likes giving you handwritten letters the most. it can be hard to communicate his real feelings to you so writing is a way for him to freely and easily express those feelings.
THE SIMPLE THINGS
★ whenever he cooks for Kalim or just whenever he cooks, he suddenly has some leftovers that he decided he'd pack up for you. can't bring himself up to say that excuse so he just gives it to you and walks away.
WORD AFFIRMATIONS
★ "Whining is useless. Do the things you're good at, stop worrying about the things you can't. Oh, I'm sorry...did that come off too harsh?"
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★ author's note: congratulate me for coming back. BASK IN MY GLORIOUS PRESCENCE. (i missed u guys too ig)
©nerinefy 2023-2024 all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate.
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fuckmyskywalker · 3 months
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ani sleeping w his stepdaughter cause her mom wouldn’t put out, but he tells her it’s okay because technically she’s half her mom. so he’s not cheating.
— 18+. Smut. Dead dove do not eat. Stepcest/Fauxcest. Afab!Reader | Fem!Reader. This is sick.
— a/n: I don't know who the fuck you are but I want to kiss you. I am. Speechless. (not proofread, it is 3 am).
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It was hard for him to take his eyes away from you to start with. He was supposed to be a good role model— to make up for the father you never had… and yet, he was finding himself down on his knees for you. You wanted money to get your nails done? Stepdad!Anakin is handing you the cash. You want a new skirt you saw online? Send the link to Anakin so he can get it for you. You want to relieve that uncomfortable itch that boys your age simply cannot alleviate? Oh, your stepdad is more than happy to help.
There was always a small doubt at the back of his head; you are… well, his wife’s daughter. It could be described as «logical reasoning», but Anakin is— probably— physically incapable of not thinking about you the way he should be thinking about his wife. Sometimes it brings him pure spite, even disgust… but when you are so close— yet so far, can you really blame him? Despite his years, Anakin is insanely attractive; those silver strands mixing with his blonde curls, the small wrinkles around his tired blue eyes, even those strong, hard-working hands that rest on your waist when you greet him after a long day of work… Yeah, can you really blame a man?
He has to share you with his wife, and despite being something normal, he doesn't like it— but he doesn't know it, or at least hasn't thought about it. Anakin just dislikes how you cling to your mother, it being justified. She raised you alone, she gave you the life you have— he just walked into your life and your mother’s house to make everything more perfect than it already was.
Maybe it is an insult to your mother’s intellect and integrity to… fuck you, but, can you really fucking blame Anakin?
Anakin loves how willing you are. How you are so eager to fulfill the hole your mother is slowly leaving. Late nights at the office and poor daddy is all alone… you sure needed to step up and help him, right? And it is only fair, he gives you everything you want! So you might as well pay him back somehow, right? Right?
A man has certain… urges. Everyone knows that. 
You know that.
And if he is married to your mother, and you are— practically half, is it even cheating?
Because it should make you feel guilty, because his cock has no right nestling inside your tight pussy in a way that has you touching the sky, fisting your sheets and moaning his name while your phone buzzes next to your head with a miserable text that reads: «Honey, I'll work extra hours tonight, tell Anakin to buy some takeout.»
“Ignore her,” Anakin groans, pushing your head against your pillow. He pulls your hair too, yanking your head up enough to hear your moans, but low enough for your tears to be eaten by the pillow. Crying on the bed is something girls do all the time, so if your mother sees it, it would be easy to explain. “Focus on me, princess. Does it feel good?”
You nod dumbly, sometimes it seems like your brain decides to take a break every time his cock slides in. “Uh-uh,” You mumble, drool trickling down your mouth. 
“Good girl. Don’t think about her. It’s her fault anyway,” Your stepdad grins, slapping your ass for good measure. He likes how responsive you are— so different from your mom. She barely makes any sound. “You feel so fucking amazing, way better than she does.”
The backhanded praise makes your stomach swirl with little butterflies. Daddy complimented you! That’s lovely. That sure fills the void inside your heart. All you wanted your whole life was approval… and now, you have the most perfect, most caring, most attentive man in the universe to give it to you. 
So, naturally, you beg for more. “Yeah?” It’s a breathless weak question, but it makes Anakin’s smile grow wider. “Do I… I feel better?”
“A hundred percent, doll,” Anakin purrs, looking down your back, licking his lips already savoring the taste of your sweat, biting them when he sees your ass bouncing and thighs giggling. “I might as well divorce her and marry you instead.”
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dunebrat · 1 month
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FORBIDDEN HEIR ˚ ♡ ˚
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Feyd Rautha x reader
Summary : you find yourself trapped in a loveless marriage to Glossu Beast Rabban, a man whose brutality knows no bounds. Unable to bear him an heir, you turn to Feyd Rautha, in a desperate bid to secure your position within the ruthless Harkonnen house
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As a year passed since your marriage to Glossu Beast Rabban, whispers began to swirl among the women of the court. Their curious glances and subtle inquiries cut deeper than any blade, their judgment heavy in the air like a suffocating fog. You, younger than your husband and eager to prove your worth, felt the weight of their scrutiny like a leaden burden upon your shoulders. Each passing day brought with it a new wave of gossip, their tongues wagging with speculation and thinly veiled accusations.
"Why hasn't she borne him an heir yet?"
"Is she barren, or just unwilling to fulfill her duty?"
"She's too young to understand the importance of her role."
Their words stung like venom, poisoning the fragile bond between you and Glossu. As the months pass by, your husband becomes increasingly frustrated by your inability to conceive. He watches as other noble families celebrate the arrival of heirs, while the halls of the Harkonnen palace remain devoid of the pitter-patter of tiny feet. "Why have you not given me an heir yet?" he demands, his voice laced with anger and disappointment.
You feel a pang of guilt and shame as his accusatory gaze falls upon you. You know the truth that it's not for lack of trying, but rather a cruel twist of fate that has left you barren. You try to explain, to reassure him that you are doing everything in your power to fulfill your duty, but Glossu's fury knows no bounds. "You are worthless to me if you cannot bear me a child!" he bellows, his words echoing through the palace corridors.
You shrink back, feeling the weight of his words like a physical blow. You have devoted yourself to him, to the Harkonnen name, and yet it seems that will never be enough. Women were
Later that night with trembling hands and a heart heavy with guilt, you approached Feyd-Rautha. His aura, both dark and dangerous, sent shivers down your spine. But this was your last chance for a child, a flicker of hope in a sea of despair. "Please," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, "it's not Glossu's fault. Your brother's health that stands in our way. I beg of you, Feyd, help me conceive an heir or I will be sent away if I cannot do this"
His gaze bore into yours, a calculating glint betraying the mask of indifference he wore. Silence hung in the air. Then, with a tilt of his head and a ghost of a smile, Feyd-Rautha spoke, his voice like velvet wrapped around steel. "I'll consider your proposal, but remember, my dear sister-in-law, every deal with the devil comes with its price."
"I understand. Whatever the cost, I am willing to pay it." You responded
He smirks as he turns to leave, you're left alone with your thoughts
Later that night you found yourself underneath him, his cock pounding into you as he took what was rightfully yours. You could feel the power and dominance of him inside you, claiming your body for himself.
He wanted to breed you, to make you his. And as he continued to fuck you with a primal intensity, it was clear that this wasn't just about sex for him-it was an act of possession and control. He wanted to own you, and he was going to take what he thought belonged to him. He went for hours claiming you as your husband was away on another planet handling business. Taking you in every position and using your body for his own pleasure. He doesn't care about your needs or desires-he just wants to use you as a vessel for his lustful urges.
He cums inside you
you feel his hot seed fill your womb. He collapses on top of you, breathing heavily as he tries to catch his breath. You lay there beneath him, feeling the weight of his body pressing down upon yours. You can feel his heart beating against your chest, and you know that he is still inside of you. He slowly pulls out of you with a soft moan as the last drops of cum drip from him onto you.
He rolls off of you and lays next to you, his breathing still heavy. You lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath as well. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, and it's a strange feeling. It feels like he has claimed your body as his own-like this is what was always meant to be between the two of you. You reach down and touch your pussy, feeling the wetness of his cum on you. It's a strange sensation-one that is both comforting and exciting at the same time.
The affair between you and Feyd unfolded as the nights passed, your meetings became bolder. As the weeks passed, a wave of nausea washed over you, leaving you weak and trembling in its wake.
Desperate for relief, you sought solace in the chambers of the healers, their gentle ministrations offering fleeting respite from the relentless onslaught of sickness. Yet, despite their best efforts, the cause of your affliction remained a mystery, shrouded in uncertainty and fear. Then, one fateful day, Glossu's booming voice echoed through the halls of the stronghold, his announcement sending shockwaves through the court like a bolt of lightning on a clear day.
"Gather round, my loyal subjects," he declared, his voice ringing with pride and triumph. "For it brings me great joy to announce that my beloved wife is with child."
A chorus of cheers erupted from the assembled crowd, their cries mingling with the pounding of your heart as you stood frozen in disbelief.
A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of Feyd's lips as you make eye contact with the true father of your child
Part 2 coming soon 𓏲◜ 🎀
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spacebarbarianweird · 2 months
Note
Hi! I absolutely love your headcannons!! Would it be possible for me to request sick Astarion? Or Astarion with a sick Tav? :)
Hi! Thank you for your request! I think I can do both!
Masterlist
Headcanons
Caring for their sick partner
Astarion takes care of you
He isn't a nurturing type.
He doesn't really care about himself let alone someone else!
Besides, it's not like he used to hang out with mortals a lot.
During your post-game adventures, you end in the far north in the middle of winter.
Astarion doesn't feel cold, but he notices you feel uncomfortable near him - his body is cold, and he steals the heat you need so much.
It causes tension between you two - one of the first challenges for you as a couple.
During a fight, you fall through the ice and almost die in the dark cold waters.
Astarion saves you but the damage is done.
You are severely sick.
Astarion freaks out.
You are dying in his arms.
He has to save you. He won't lose you.
Astarion manages to dress you in dry and warm clothes. He leaves you by the fire for a bit to hunt - you need food, and Astarion needs blood to warm you.
Then, when you stabilize, he carries you to the closest village and gives you all the money you've earned in your travels for a room in the inn.
He spoon-feeds you and wraps you in the warmest blankets.
Sometimes you pout, refusing to take one more bitter medicine, but he can't take this nonsense - you are going to get better. Period.
When you wake up, still in fever, Astarion is always near. Either wrapping you with his blood-warm body or with his ear on your chest as if he was afraid your heart was going to stop at any given moment.
As the spring comes, you finally get better. Astarion gives you a bath, and you realize how itchy and sweaty your body is.
Then he lashes at you, of course.
You were reckless, you were risking yourself. How could you?
But you know he speaks out of fear, and you comfort him, promising to never put yourself in danger without a need.
You take care of Astarion
If you weren't a nurturing type, you wouldn't end up with Astarion.
The man needs help and care, something he never had.
You comfort him after the nightmares and kiss away his tears.
He doesn't need to be cared for physically - once the tadpole is removed, he regenerates, and it's impossible to wound him.
But he is a mental wreck who can have a meltdown over a trigger word or a cruel flashback after an innocent action.
But he is far from invincible.
He is being reckless and ends up surrounded by monster hunters.
They chain him in silver and leave him helpless on the ground to see the sun.
You manage to come to the rescue - and murder all three of them.
But as you fight, the sun rises, and it burns Astarion.
It's almost too late for him when you set him free and drag him to the shadows.
The regeneration is slowed down - the burns are as bad as if he survived a fire.
You give him blood. All you can do without killing yourself.
The assault causes one of the worst setbacks in his healing process.
Astarion is almost catatonic - curling in the darkest corner of the room in the fetal position.
You can only guess what prison his tortured mind is locked in.
You talk to him. Hug him. Takes care of his hair. Caress his back.
Days become weeks, weeks become months - and one evening Astarion is finally back.
He wraps his hand around you and nuzzles your collarbone.
By the end of the night, Astarion is his true self again, ready for everything freedom has to offer.
"I was there, in the tomb," he confesses. "I was locked there, in the dark, and all my life looked like a feverish dream."
"I am here, love," you say. "I will always be here for you."
You pretend you don't see his tears as you say it.
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong
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girlgenius1111 · 3 months
Text
stuck with me
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alexia x reader
alexia and r get into an argument just before the holiday break, as the stress of ale's knee injury bubbles over. r loses... a lot of sleep over it. alexia makes it up to her, even though she really doesn't have to.
no warnings :)
To be fair to Alexia, she didn't know you had sleep issues. How could she, when she'd practically been the cure for them? You'd had sleep problems long before you'd gotten together with Alexia, but they had... stopped, magically, when you started sharing a bed. Neither of you spent many nights alone once you got together, so most nights, you slept well, curled up against your steady, dependable girlfriend.
The exceptions were, obviously, when you went home for breaks without her and when you both had to go on national duty. You slept fine at home, away from the stresses of your job, in the comfort of the place you'd grown up in. Normally.
And in regards to national duty, you were lucky to have incredibly teammates. Lucy knew of your problem, and also knew that sleeping in the same bed as someone else was helpful. It wasn't Alexia, and it wasn't perfect, but you slept. You knew you'd have to find a solution when [if] Lucy retired, but for now, there was no reason why you'd spend more than the odd night without Alexia.
That was, of course, until her knee re-injury. Before the following surgery and holiday break. And the not insignificant fight that you'd gotten into with her around that time. It was a tough time for her, you knew, and she was coping with it the best she could. You'd been hovering over her, you knew that too.
You were just so worried, all the time. Alexia was so miserable not being able to play, so frustrated with her knee that sometimes you thought she was finally just going to breakdown and herself feel it all. She never did, though. Not until the day her and the medical team had decided on surgery. It was a few days before you were do back in England for the holidays, and you'd already been considering cancelling, and staying with your girlfriend. She needed you, physically and emotionally.
You really should have waited to bring up your plans to stay until she was in a better mood. Instead, you'd suggested it to her over a very quiet dinner, after the date for the arthroscopy had been set.
-----
"I'm gonna cancel my plane tickets to London, I think. Stay here with you." You suggested casually.
"What?" Alexia asked, dropping her fork onto her plate with a loud clatter.
"I want to spend Christmas here. You're having surgery and-"
"No."
"No?" You said, slightly hurt by the tone of voice she was using.
"No, you have to go home and see your family. I will be fine here."
"Ale, I want to be here."
"I do not need you here." Alexia said finally, avoiding your gaze. You knew she didn't mean it; she was in pain, frustrated, anxious, and trying not to inconvenience you. Still, you felt your eyes fill with tears at the rejection, and you nodded silently, before turning back to your food. You wouldn't cry, couldn't add any more stress to Alexia's already insane load of it.
"Now you will not talk to me?" Alexia asked. You looked up at her in shock, surprised that the next words out of her mouth hadn't been an apology.
"Just leave it, Alexia. I'll be out of your way tomorrow." You said back quietly, allowing some of the sadness you were feeling seep into your voice.
"Do not be like that. You tell me all the time to tell you what I need, and what I need is for you to go to England and see your family."
"Alright, Ale. I got it. You want me to go, I understand." You tried your hardest to keep your voice steady, but it still shook towards the end of the sentence.
"Amor, stop. That is not what I am saying and you know it," Alexia argued.
"I don't really know what you're saying, Alexia. It sounds like you want me to go."
Alexia exhaled loudly, before pushing her chair away from the table and standing up.
"I cannot deal with you if you are going to be like this." She snapped, before slamming her plate into the sink and marching off to the bedroom.
You didn't understand, not really. It seemed like she didn't want you here. Because that's exactly what she had been saying to you. You knew it wasn't really you that was the problem, it was Alexia's inability to allow you to see how upset she was.
This was reinforced when you went into the bedroom a little while later to pack. The shower was on, but you could still hear her crying over the soft patter of water. You knocked on the door, prepared to let the fight go in favor of making sure she was okay, but the little whimpers and shaky breaths cut off abruptly, and she didn't say anything else.
She kept you at arms length for the rest of the night, only speaking when she asked you to come to bed, an olive branch she was extending. You did, but you both kept to your own sides of the bed. You didn't sleep well that night.
Alexia hugged you goodbye the next day at the airport, and you thought she held you a bit tighter than normal. She handed you a little note, requested that you read it on the plane, and softly kissed your cheek, before allowing you to go through security.
The note had been a lengthy apology, scrawled in her familiar loopy, messy handwriting, confirming that everything you thought was going on with her was correct. She was stressed, she didn't want you to worry, or change your plans for her. She shouldn't have yelled, or been so cruel, and she hadn't meant it. She loved you. So much, she said. Things would be better after her surgery.
You'd thanked her for her apology once you'd landed. You'd spoken, often, since then, but there was still so much tension. You were both busy with family, and there wasn't really any time to have an in depth conversation about what had transpired.
You knew the surgery had gone well, they'd fixed the problem, and that Alexia was doing much better. The second part wasn't something that she had to tell you, it was obvious in the increase in texts, and the mushiness that she included. Whenever she went through a hard time, she closed herself off, and when it ended, she'd always overcompensate, feeling guilty, until she went back to normal. That was Alexia, and you loved her.
-----
The biggest casualty of this fight was, unfortunately, your sleep. You struggled while you were home, when normally, you slept fine there. Obviously not as well as when you were with Alexia, but fine. This time, though, you barely slept. Nothing worked, and the only time you were able to sleep was when your body literally shut down, forcing you to sleep for a few hours every other day or so. You were sure it was because of this unresolved fight, and you knew that once you physically saw your girlfriend, you'd be fine. Especially once you could go back to falling asleep on her chest, the steady beat of her heart making you feel warm, and safe, and comfortable.
This was why you'd cut your trip short, and were currently touching down in Spain, a full 5 days before you were supposed to return home. That, and you missed Alexia. You knew she was slightly confused; you'd been weirdly distant while you'd been gone, because you were exhausted, but she didn't know that. She assumed you were mad, until you told her you were coming home early. After that, she gave up trying to figure out what was going on with you, and focused herself on cleaning the apartment, going grocery shopping for all your favorite things, and buying you flowers. She'd been awful, she knew it, and she was determined to make it up to you.
-----
Alexia was waiting for you by baggage claim; you saw her once you got halfway down the escalator. She was leaned against the wall, baseball cap sat over her blonde hair. She was wearing an old England sweatshirt of yours, and you couldn't help the grin that your lips lifted into at the sight. Your beautiful, perfect, girlfriend, head on an absolute swivel, determined not to miss you.
You saw the moment she she saw you, too, her lips turning up at the corners, shifting her weight from foot to foot as if she could barely contain herself from running to you, which she wasn't yet supposed to do. You got down the escalator and over to her in probably an embarrassingly short amount of time, taking care not to put too much of your weight on her, minding her healing knee.
"Amor," she sighed into your hair, arms holding you almost painfully tight.
"Hi, beautiful," you said back, words almost swallowed by her [your] sweatshirt, and the noisy crowds around you.
"Te extrañé mucho de menos," Alexia murmured, pulling back from the hug to pull you in for a kiss. She froze, however, eyebrows scrunching adorably, as she finally got a good look at your face. You knew what she was looking at. "Are you sick?" She asked, feeling your forehead with the back of her hand.
"No, not sick. Just a little tired."
She looked at you skeptically, hand unmoving from your forehead until you pushed it away and leaned up, pursing your lips expectantly. She smiled, finally meeting your lips in a sweet kiss. She pulled away much to soon in your opinion, laughing at your disgruntled expression.
"You need sleep, amor. We can go home and you can rest. Once you sleep, I will give you all the kisses you want, okay?"
"Fineeee," you sighed, allowing Alexia to take your hand, and lead you off to find your bag. She insisted on wheeling it out to the car, even though she was actively recovering from surgery, but she seemed determined to spoil you today.
You sat in content silence in the car, your girlfriend's hand intertwined with yours. You felt that you should have been sleepy, but you were completely wired, eyes open wide, tapping your knee repetitively.
"Do you want to tell me what is going on?" Alexia asked finally, about 10 minutes into the drive. She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, spotting the way you went rigid at her question.
"What do you mean?"
"Amor, come on. You look like you have not slept in days." Your only response is a shrug, as you turn your attention out the window.
"Hey. Why did you not sleep?" Alexia insisted, pulling on your hand to get you to pay attention to her.
"I missed you." You replied finally, feeling Alexia's hand tighten around yours.
"I missed you too. That is why you did not sleep well?"
"I... I never used to sleep very well. Until I started sleeping next to you, and then I slept fine. I normally don't have problems sleeping when I go home, though, but this time... I think I was just stressed about our argument."
"I did not know that." Alexia said quietly. "You never told me."
"I know, I know. It just didn't seem like a big deal, because it wasn't, once I was with you."
Your girlfriend looked like she had a million questions, but she didn't ask them. "I am so sorry our fight made you lose sleep. I was completely unfair to you. You do not need to worry about anything now, though, okay? I made your favorite for dinner, if you are hungry. If not, we can just go right to bed. I am yours for the rest of break, whatever you need."
"Really?"
"Really."
-----
You ate the delicious dinner Alexia had cooked, and then took a warm shower. When you got out, you noticed that Alexia had completely unpacked for you, and laid out your favorite pajamas. She was already in the bed, despite it barely being 7pm, looking adorably cozy in a big sweatshirt, the hood tugged up over her head.
"Ale, we don't need to go to sleep now, it's early, you're probably not tired." You said as you pulled the pajamas on. The exhaustion was starting to hit you, and you wanted to promise that you could stay up until a normal time, but you weren't sure you could.
"A bit tired. Whether I fall asleep or not, I want to be right here. Anyway, I should put my knee up." Alexia said dismissively, patting the bed next to her.
"Ale," you began but she shook her head.
"No arguments, bebita. Get in bed." You sighed dramatically, but did as she asked, climbing under the covers and scooting right over to Alexia, as though she was a magnet. You settled against her, shutting your eyes. You heard the lamp flick off, and felt Alexia wrap an arm around you, tugging you into her side.
You tried to fall asleep. Really, you had no idea why you couldn't. You were here, with Alexia, and you should have been able to sleep, easily, especially considering how tired you were. You couldn't manage it though, quickly getting annoyed when your brain wouldn't just turn off.
After the 6th time you shifted positions, Alexia kissed the side of your head, and spoke. "Having a hard time?"
"Yes," you mumbled, burying your face in her chest.
"Be patient. You are exhausted, you will fall asleep soon. Just relax." Alexia encouraged, rubbing a hand up and down your back.
Another 10 minutes passed, in which you felt no closer to sleep. Rolling off of Alexia with a huff, you glared up at the ceiling. Next to you, Alexia rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow to gaze down at you.
"You are putting too much pressure on yourself. It is just sleeping, bonita." She said quietly, running a soft finger over your cheek.
Tears of frustration beginning to pool in your eyes. It was just sleeping. It should be easy. You were just realizing for the first time how incredibly tired you were, and how difficult the past couple days had been.
"Do not cry, por favor," Alexia pleaded.
"I can't, I can't fall asleep." Alexia looked at you sympathetically, thumbs wiping away the tears that fell. She sat both of you up after a minute. "Take off your shirt," she instructed, pulling her own over her head, leaving her with only a sports bra on.
"I'm too tired for sex," you cried, the thought only making you more upset; you had missed your girlfriend. A lot. The fact that you were too tired to do anything about it was painful.
"Not sex, amor, just take your shirt off." Alexia insisted, pulling at the hem. You did as she asked, looking rather miserable. You, too, were left in only your bra, but Alexia's eyes were only on yours as she laid back down, rolling onto her side and pulling you in so your head was pressed right over her bare chest, where her heart was.
Your body relaxed without you telling it to, the feeling of Alexia, and only Alexia, engulfing you. Your skin was pressed to hers, inhaling the soft scent of her perfume, feeling her hands rub rhythmically up and down your bare back.
"There you go," she said into your hair, feeling your body sag against hers. "Sleep for me, okay?" She asked.
You couldn't have told her no if you wanted to. Your eyes shut almost immediately, and you felt suddenly so peaceful, brain slowing down until you were only thinking about how good your girlfriend felt against you.
-----
When you woke up, you knew you'd been asleep for a while, if the amount of light flooding the room was any indication. It was bright, even with your eyes shut, which indicated that it was past noon; the sun only came in through the bedroom window after noon. Your body felt stiff but, for the first time in a while, you felt well rested. You were content to wake up slowly, enjoy the comfort of your bed
You attempted to roll over, searching for Alexia's side of the bed so you could use her pillow, (you swore it was comfier). Instead, you rolled right into Alexia herself, and heard her let out a soft laugh. You cracked your eyes open, finding Alexia laying on her back, arm still tucked around your shoulders. Her fingers flitted through your hair, and you relaxed back into her, scooting closer until your head was crammed into the crook of her neck.
"Why are you still in bed?" You mumbled into her. Her body vibrated under yours as she laughed again.
"Are you complaining?" She teased, clearly referencing the way you'd moved yourself so that every part of your body possible was be touching hers.
"No. It has to be late, though. You've been sleeping fine, you didn't have to stay in bed with me." You told her.
"I always sleep better with you, amor. I wanted you to rest, as much as you needed. You are cute when you sleep, anyway. Your nose scrunches up and you make little sounds when you roll around." Alexia murmured into your hair, and you didn't have to see her face to know she was blushing at the information she'd just revealed.
You left a kiss on her neck, before pulling away so you could see her face. "What time is it?"
Alexia didn't say anything, a slightly guilty expression on her face.
"Alexia Putellas, what time is it?" You demanded.
"3PM." She told you quietly.
"3PM?" You shouted, sitting upright in the bed. Sure enough, the clock on the nightstand reflected the time back to you. You'd slept the whole day away. Two of you didn't have any plans, but still.
"How much did you sleep while you were gone? Really, amor? The least I could do was help you rest." Alexia avoided your eyes.
"What do you mean the least you could do?" You asked, softening your tone.
"I was so horrible to you before you left. And then our fight made you not sleep well," the blonde explained, looking miserable.
"And you apologized, Ale. You were under a lot of stress, I get it." You really weren't mad anymore.
"No, that is not good enough. I have to make it up to you. I wanted you here with me, more than anything, but you have already done so much, and I did not want to ruin your Christmas." Alexia insisted, getting seemingly worked up.
"Alexia, I understand. You said all of this in your note."
"I want to say it again." Alexia said stubbornly, crossing her arms across her chest.
"Look at me." You instructed, turning face towards you with a hand on her cheek when she refused. Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears. "Amor, I forgive you. I told you I forgave you, when I read your letter. Do you not believe me?" You wondered, as your girlfriend didn't look the least bit relieved at you letting her off the hook.
"I believe you, it is just that...no se como decirlo." She sighed.
"Try, please. We've fought before, Alexia, worse than this. What is it about this one that is making you so upset?" You pressed, not relenting even as she shrugged in response.
"I do not want to lose you," Alexia whispered finally, a single tear sliding down her face, as she clenched her jaw, trying to keep together.
"Baby, you are not going to lose me." You promised, moving closer to take her hand in yours. "I knew you didn't mean what you said. You apologized, Alexia, it was just a stupid fight. We got past it, just like we'll get past every fight. Always."
"But what if I push you away again? And you get tired of it, and leave?"
"You could never push me away. I might give you space when you need it, but I will always be here for you. Even when you try to pretend you don't need me. I could never get tired of you, Alexia, and I could never leave you. Ever." You said the words slowly, trying to gauge if she believed you or not.
Although she looked slightly unsure, she did look less upset than she had a minute ago, her face relaxing somewhat as she finally look into your eyes.
"You're stuck me with, Ale. For as long as you want me." Alexia let out a wet laugh.
"I will always want you." She said, pulling you in closer to press her lips to yours. The kiss grew heated quickly, until you were straddling her lap, checking multiple times that her knee was unbothered by the position. She promised that it was fine, distracting you by sliding her hands up your sides, and pulling you back in for another messy kiss.
"Alexia, that is not exactly what I meant," you joked, pulling away briefly as she pulled your bra over your head.
"Me neither, but it has been days, and I have missed you. Let me show you how much I have missed you. Please?" Alexia asked, surprisingly shy as she ran her hand up and down your abdomen, teasing at the hem of your shorts.
You leaned in, you agreement clear in the way your lips met hers, tongue slipping in after a minute. As if you'd ever say no to that offer. You don't think you'd ever say no to anything Alexia asked you. Your love for her was the kind that transcended every issue that could possibly come up. It was you and her, forever.
-----
inspired by my inability to sleep <3 [and my deep belief that sleeping next to a pretty girl would solve all my problems]
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