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tojisun · 5 months ago

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immoral in a stranger’s lap (WIP)

established price x f!reader; poly!141 x f!reader

cw: smut - mdni; switching povs; older men x younger women trope; so much speedrun yearning from the squad; john calling the ‘shots’ and shots being reader; power dynamics at play // 2.6k words

extra notes: filing this as WIP wednesday because i could no longer find the inspiration to finish it. i have a concrete idea of how i wanted it to go but writing it became so difficult, still hope it’s a good read! (title from gibson girl - ec)

Captain has a pretty darling—apparently she’s doe-eyed and young.

She packs him food when she can and always writes him letters, dainty envelopes spritzed with perfume and sealed with wax and baby’s breaths.

They always sit atop every other sealed envelopes because the rookies are afraid of damaging the package. No one can really blame them, not after seeing the extent of care and love put into a single parcel. Apparently, she writes to their Captain even when she has a burner to use to contact him; choosing to, instead, fill up envelopes with a love so sweet it makes their teeth ache.

Captain has a pretty darling—that’s the news that’s been circulating around the base recently, cascading through the gaps of their barracks and settling into the corners of their own rooms. The knowledge of normalcy pierces against the hard-set routine that sustained them through the years, and fills their jowls with their own yawning desire.

Because now they know it’s achievable. Liveable. Guilt no longer races through their veins when they dream about the idea of settling and, instead, they lean into the want yowling from the bases of their stomach. It makes them twitch, leaving them feeling too hyper-aware of everything.

Hunger swirls from their irises and they watch, on the sidelines, as their Captain submerges himself in the one good thing he has. They refuse to name the new feeling, the one rising from their desires, but it is futile—it bloats, leaving them gritting their teeth and clenching their jaws as though by doing so, they could stop the venom.

They couldn’t. Jealousy sings in their blood.

They were startled by the invitation, frozen in their steps when the Captain extended his home to them—“My baby wants to get to know my friends.”

His smile was kind, gentle, the years having made him brighter, but his eyes—the look in them is cold, calculating. Dangerous on all fronts. There was a beast lying in waiting and its presence bore down on them, the siren sounds of a threat ringing because this one was greater than them all.

“Alright,” Ghost replied, the first to get his voice back.

“Great,” their Captain said, then he was off, hand fishing his burner from his pocket to call his pretty darling. His beautiful sweetheart.

‘My baby’ he said.

And now, they get to meet you.

Their gums ached with the phantom desire to bite; to have their teeth digging into flesh—not tearing fully but puncturing enough to mark. To taste.

Their eyes met, their blood thrumming with singularity, and their excitement palpable as it left them in tethers. Because there was much to be said about the mutual desire; how it rippled amidst them all, now noticed by their Captain and invited to play.

The quaint little house lives on the outskirts of the city, not really detached but far enough to know that this was a conscious decision carved out by their Captain.

It has a huge front lawn from inside the white picket fence, littered with a well-tended garden full of shrubs and flowers and stone plants. Their trained eyes flit to the hanging entryway sign—“Home Sweet Home”—and to the small baby’s breath wreath tacked underneath the plank, and feel viscous nectar slide down their throats.

It’s all so domestic, so gentle, that a strange feeling settles deep in their stomachs, their steadied steps dying down to shuffles as their boots crunch against the gravel. They feel like intruders, even when they have yet to set foot inside their Captain’s home. Their mission-trained bodies are stark against this place, which oozes with comfort and flowery scents so delicate it makes their blood jump.

Simon takes the lead again, herding the pack in silence. He raps his knuckles against the well-loved door, sharp knocks bouncing from the wood. Soap and Gaz are both quiet behind him, and they are all tense in their reluctant patience.

It seemed like now that you are close—just a door away—they no longer know how to leash the desire lapping at their feet; ears straining, mouth dry. The hunger scratches at their throats, ragged. Angry.

(It had taken weeks when their Captain finally reached out again with a date and a location, disclosing the details in a way he always did for missions. It had grounded them for a while, bodies locking the way they do when their Captain barked out orders—his expectations pushing them to their limits, their mind geared into a focal point.

“Be kind,” he said, lighting a cigarette.

Gaz ran his tongue on the back of his teeth, head tilting at the sudden twitch from Soap.

“‘Course,” the Sergeant replied with a grin, one that was a bite too big. “We always are.”

Their Captain hummed, eyeing Johnny with a pensive look. Kyle looked away, hoping to melt into the background to avoid any more of their Captain’s playful teasing.

Then, Kyle met their Lieutenant's eyes, wide and rabid, and saw his desire leaking from his pores. His fists were balled, leather gloves straining against the force, and Kyle felt a shiver rack his body at seeing the tangible excitement coming from Simon.

It was so huge, it felt daunting. Addicting.)

Their fingers twitch at the sound of the door’s lock clicking—something they catalogue—before it swings open.

Johnny’s shoulders tense up, his breath getting stuck in his throat at the morbid anticipation burning through him. Simon’s bulk is hiding the view, a solid wall between him and you, but Johnny waits, sees the way their Lieutenant’s gait changes, and knows he needs to be good.

“Oh! You must be John’s friends!”

Simon devours the sight you make, razing his eyes down your form, noting the fine details of domesticity that you’re clothed in—all soft and flowy material that brings out the shine in your eyes as you look up at him, head tipped up to account for the ridiculous height difference.

Something glints in his peripheral—

“Yeah,” he hears himself say. “It's nice to finally meet you.”

A diamond ring.

Their Captain introduces you to them, cinnamon in his eyes and his words honeyed. Your name settles on the tip of their tongues, waiting to be digested. To be sounded out by their own voices.

Simon murmurs it to himself, feels the word sliding between the cracks of his teeth like milk, and gulps it down, starving. It fuels him, this little piece he now has of you, and sets him ablaze as you flutter between them with gentle questions and quiet giggles.

You are soft—too soft for any of them, in fact—but they can see why their Captain is enamoured, his own desire greater than their own. It is intense as it scalds down their spines and jagged because their Captain isn’t a good man, they all aren’t, but there is something disconcerting in the way their Captain had claimed you.

It was rushed, sweet to a fault, but done so rapidly it felt like a beast pouncing on its prey. Like their Captain had seen the beauty of your soul and decided, then, that you’re all his.

Simon washes down the taste of defeat in his mouth with his whiskey, mentally dedicating this drink to his Captain because he knows he would’ve done the same. He would’ve kept you in a home just as cozy; would've played house with you to distract you from the foulness of his virtues because kindness, civilian to that extent, can become so foreign to them now. He would keep you full of him, satiated with his presence and dripping with his cum—

“Sweetheart, c'mere.” Their Captain’s voice pierces the staccato of his thoughts. Simon twitches, suppressing the full-body jolt because there’s something measured in the way their Captain called you.

They watch as you pad towards him with a hum, a bounce in your steps, before reaching to cup his cheek the moment you get close.

“Hi,” you murmur, a breath too quiet.

Their Captain chuckles, basking in your warmth, before curling an arm around your waist and tugging you to his lap. You fall with a little gasp, your hand tight on Price’s shirt as your eyes swing to them in surprise.

“John, they–”

Price kisses the back of your shoulder, fixing his arm over your stomach. “They won’t mind.” Dark eyes turn to them too. “Would you, boys?”

They feel parched; thirst palpable in the way they have their jaws clenched, their tongues heavy inside their mouths. They devour the pretty sight you make—all bashful looks and hunched shoulders, looking so utterly soft, so charmingly fragile, atop their Captain’s lap.

It sets off their base instincts, their desires ravaging their sanities.

“No,” Gaz is surprisingly the one to reply. His voice was smooth and clear, bouncing against the walls with surety. “Don’t mind at all.”

There must be something in the way Gaz was looking at you or perhaps you were also able to hear the unabashed want coating his words, but whatever it was, it made you sit up straighter, head tilted to the side, thinking.

Considering.

It makes all of them jolt, even Price feels a stirring inside his jeans at the sudden shift in your posture, because this changes everything.

It was not that they would be satisfied with only having a look, with only seeing what they want and pretending that their thoughts—dirty and ragged and full of filth—are enough to satiate the fire stoking deep inside, but they didn’t want to set off their Captain.

They didn’t want to meet the beast inside the man’s eyes, and be further punished by having you be taken away from their reach. Because the moment they crossed that little door, the moment you smiled up at them and told them that they’re welcome in your quaint little home, in your space, you were theirs.

And their Captain would just have to deal with that.

But Price is already looking at them with crinkled eyes, his lips busy as it dragged all over the expanse of your shoulder, his palm gentle as it rubs over your stomach.

Kyle takes it for what it is—a permission.

Johnny fists his cock, muffling his moans on the back of his palm, remembering the way you looked. The way you smelled.

All flowers and vanilla—it’s cliche yet so, so fitting.

You were so curious, poking at Ghost’s tattoos and murmuring your awe at every revelation of their becoming, stories that were watered down because they didn’t want to scare you. They didn’t want to push you away.

You were so enamoured by them, all giggly when Garrick told you about his recent mission with the Captain and Laswell, pressing yourself to his space and vibrating in anticipation at every turn. Their Captain rumbled in laughter when you turned to him with a gasp, disbelief coating your voice as you whined, “John, you didn’t!”

There was that pride in your eyes when their Captain reassured you of their success, and you preened when he said, “We had to return to you, after all, baby.”

You got so quiet and shy, then. So docile, just like the precious darling that you are.

So it burned him when it had been his turn to receive your attention.

“‘Soap’?” you asked, nose scrunching in that way that made him coo.

“Yeah, lassie. S’cool, huh?”

You were sitting so close, he could feel the heat from your thigh reverberating from where it was pressed to his. He breathed you in, slow and careful, and felt ablaze with the knowledge that everyone’s eyes were on you two.

Not only their Captain’s but Simon’s. Their Lieutenant whose growled promises ravaged his throat the night before, grunting and groaning, using Johnny’s skin as an alternative to yours.

(“Imagine ‘er, Johnny.” He rutted forward, lips tickling the shell of Johnny’s ear. “Imagine ‘er so full of you.”

It had Johnny mewling, ragged gasps rasping between his clenched teeth because he could imagine it, alright.

He imagined the way you’d be stuffed—greedy holes gaping as you took their cocks and their cum. Their Captain would be there, Garrick too. Their Captain would fuck his own fist as he watched them take you apart with pleasure, and Garrick would have your mouth, his tip painting your lips with his pre- before fucking it down your throat.

“Fuck!” Johnny cried out, humping the mattress to get more stimulation; to feel better.

He imagined that he was rutting against your chest, sliding between the valley of your tits while Ghost took him from the back. He imagined the way you would watch them, enraptured amidst your pleasure because he knew you wanted a show.

They always do.

“Cum for me, pup,” Ghost rumbled into his ear and Johnny’s body locked in obedience, intense euphoria seizing him whole.)

He cums with your name on his lips, rumbled in a way he hopes would drive you mad. Would make you desperate.

Johnny wants to make a slut out of you. Strip your sweetness and tinge it with sin—show you what they say about men like him. Like them. He wants to take you, or whatever scraps their Captain gives them, because every inch and every part of you is too delectable.

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyeing the thick rivulets of cum pooling in his palm.

What he would give to see you lick this clean.

“So, what’d you think of her?” Their Captain asks as he twirls his glass of bourbon, the alcohol sloshing carefully from inside the cup like liquid gold. It snags fractures of light, smothering the little glints with its every ripple.

Simon hums, distracted, his mind a gallery made up of all of the little bits and pieces he was able to snatch from that day in the quaint little house: the sound of your voice, the titter of your giggles, the way you looked up at him when he offered to help pluck out the cups stowed away in the highest shelves, before your lips danced into a grateful little smile, dimpling your cheeks and wrinkling your eyes.

You were everything he adored. The woman of his dreams, there, in the pretty little cage that their Captain has you in.

“She's beautiful,” Ghost says, quiet. Honest. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, really.”

It is in the stretching silence that follows that he picks up his own whiskey and pours it into his parched mouth to wash down the desire lodged in his throat. He doesn’t look at his Captain; he doesn’t want to be the one to ask.

He wants it to be offered; to be presented to him like the twisted blessing that it is.

Simon wants to know if you would allow him. If you would allow all of them to have you too.

Price huffs, his glass clinking against the table when he had put it down. Simon licks the back of his teeth as he waits, patience thrumming underneath his veins raggedly. He feels like a boy, waiting to be told that he’s done good; that his obedience is going to be rewarded lucratively.

Price chuckles like he can read the thoughts churning in Simon’s mind.

“Not yet,” is all that their Captain replies.

Not yet—it was not a rejection, then.

Simon burns, feeling the way such simple words sustain him. The idea that they were allowed to taste, not now, not yet, but soon, in that cage that you call a home.

#suns #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #x reader

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sukeruton-san · 5 months ago

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Sorta Maybe Blind pt 2

First Next

It has been four hours since the initial discovery of his appearance and he's come to figure out it's not just that he looks like he'll kneel over and die with a small breeze but he feels like it too. side effects just keep coming!

Apparently his eyes are extremely sensitive to the light now. he opened them fully once and it hurt like hell, even with the smog. his internal temperature has always been a little bit on the cold side but now he feels like a freezer and his rugged t-shirt and jean combo is not helping. he's a little frustrated with how much he's shaking especially on his left side

Oh he thinks he forgot to mention that his left side now has a huge lichtenberg figure on it, starting from his hand going all the way up his arm and spreading across his back and chest swirling where his heart should be it also goes all the way down his left leg into the bottom of his foot, some of it is even peeking across his neck. He thinks it's the scar that was supposed to show itself when the accident happened but it didn't.

it's here now and it constantly aches too, another aspect of the ectoplasm levels here. He thinks he's become more fatigued but his sleep schedule was already shity to begin with, 4-5 hours a week can do that to a person. same with his appetite, food was more dangerous than edible most of the time at h- Fentonworks.

He ducked into an alleyway to search through the duffle bag that was packed for him, squinting to lessen the light in his eyes. and he found a lot. Hygiene products, a new phone and modified Phantom-phone courtesy of Tucker, notebooks, files, a lot of snacks, bottled water, Med kit, wild survival kits courtesy of jazz, bunch of the Fentonworks inventions now phantom-tech that he and Tucker modified and improved together, some clothing items courtesy of Sam, and a bunch of other miscellaneous items/small bags he didn't want to look into right now except for

Oh. . .

Oh ancients the fuck Sam!?!?

Sam gave him a crossbody satchel filled with big money, and when he says big money he means probably thousands in big money!?!? taking two 50s out and shoving the satchel inside his chest he looked to see what the notebooks and files were about.

One of the files was the necessary paperwork for his new identity that Tucker and Jazz helped create together, and judging by the glowing green sticky note Clockwork helped them too, probably about the sorta maybe blind thing he got going on. The other files containing pretty much all the Fenton works blueprints and or recipes for chemical compounds like the ecto-dejecto and the cleaning spray for ectoplasm.

The notebooks were small but thick, they hold a variety of things ranging from tips and tricks, locations that may be useful, information about Gotham in general, several were blank, and others had other little things he won't get to. One notebook was dedicated to everything he has done as Phantom, his battles, achievements, and things they learned about his weird biology. some of it was clearly done by Clockwork cuz he hasn't told anybody the full story about Dan or the clones or the other fights and challenges he faced.

Did he forget to mention that besides the necessary paperwork everything was written in Braille? No? because it was.

Deciding that he was done searching through the bag for now he put on a black hoodie with blob ghost sewn on the front, took out his new phone, and put the Phantom-phone in. He turned on the blind aid in the accessibility function and turned the brightness down significantly. He pulls up Google to look for a place to rent. They all begrudgingly agreed that they won't call or text until a month has passed so suspicions won't be as tight on them. Finding something close and cheap and pulling up the directions to speak audibly he goes on his merry way.

Hopefully the owner will be nice enough to him even though he's barely 16 trying to rent an apartment.

--------------- *Hour and a half later*------------------

The building fucking abandoned

No like the top half of it looked like it exploded years ago and Google still says it's for rent!?!?

Why!?

You know what fuck it! he's already made his way over here and it geting dark fast. he'll find a decent corner in there to sleep tonight.

Squeezing his his way through a hole that was supposed to be a door, tripping, and landing face first on the broken disgusting floor below him.

_______________________________________________

Batman and Robin were investigating a weapons deal that was happening later tonight in an abandoned apartment complex, half the building gone from an explosion courtesy of Two Face. 30 minutes before the deal they were doing a quick sweep of the two floors that remain when

*Smack*

Someone face planted 5 ft away from them.

"Ow " they rub their face for a minute before sitting up and

" That's a blind child " Robin was slightly bewildered by the black haired, blind and before closing his eyes he was able to make out the dull icey blue color. He was ill looking 13-14 in age.

A blind boy that was deathly pale, warringly skinny and most importantly alone.

He points in the vague direction of Robin before stating "I'll have you know I'm almost 16 and you don't sound much older than I do" he feels across the ground searching for the phone that was a few inches away from his reach.

Batman grabs the phone off the floor before standing the boy up himself and handing it to him. " The apartment building you have been following is out of service "

" Oh, why is it still operational on Google?"

" Tch, It seems someone has failed to inform the online networks of this buildings status, which is a incompetence on their part" Robin walked up to be beside the boy.

" what's more important is why you were looking for an apartment building in the first place. You're alone as well, when someone should be there with you when you cannot see or you should at least have a cain. It is also heading to a time of night where you should not be walking outside."

" What is this an interrogation, why should I be telling you what I am doing, who even are you." The boy crosses his arms backing away slightly

" We are Batman and Robin and we are only concerned of your safety" the big bat himself States in a softer than usual for his Batman growl.

Robin looks over at him giving him a look before signing ' are you serious ' then folded his arms. Batman ignores him.

Multiple footsteps could be heard across the floor, Batman grabs a hold of the child before grappling up and away from sight. Robin does the same in a different direction.

_______________________________________________

Holy SHIT

Fenton luck strikes again because he just walked in on The Batman and fucking Robin on an investigation and he interrupted. Being held in Batman's arms he realizes that either he's tiny or Batman's huge because he's at least three times his size.

This is turning out to be one of the more fucked up situations he has ever been in. Let's hope he won't fuck up the situation even more then he already has.

(sorry for the cliffhanger I need to rest my brain a bit with writing, but here is what I've written Hope you enjoy also I saw the reblog from @athyriaceae and took it into consideration thank you for rebloging)

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #Sorta Maybe Blind #batman #dc robin

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keyotosprompts · 9 months ago

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the best feelings

some things to incorporate in your story plot, or some things to imagine (platonic or romantic)

⇸ someone you love wrapping their arms around you from behind. you’ve never felt such warm, tight, strong love before. you wish it would never stop.

⇸ ^^ additionally: both turning towards each other at the same time, and then bumping noses. you two both laugh and you think to yourself that, this is it: this is all you need.

⇸ making that one person laugh, and then immediately breaking out into a smile afterwards. or, you try to hide the huge smile.

⇸ that feeling after ending a 6-hour text conversation with the person you can be yourself around (you don’t even notice that it’s been 6 hours)

⇸ finishing something that you've spent dozens of sleepless nights on

⇸ getting told, "i love you"

⇸ how all the air gets sucked out of you once something has been achieved

⇸ actually being able to enjoy waking up in the morning

⇸ ^ waking up in the morning to see that you aren't alone, and there is someone's arms clinging to your side. everything inside of you is filled with relaxation.

⇸ feeling the cold breeze after days of hot weather.

⇸ having someone help you put your shoes on (using their shoulder while slipping on your shoes)

⇸ gazing at someone, knowing that they’re yours forever

⇸ running into someone you like, constantly

⇸ unexpected meetings with someone you haven’t seen in a while

⇸ silence after a long day

⇸ kissing someone and you can feel all the love they put behind their lips. you feel it flowing into you.

⇸ looking back at old photos with your someone and reminiscing on how far you two have come. so much as happened since then, but the love has relatively stayed the same.

⇸ cats brushing up on your leg. cats laying down on you.

⇸ a dog following you around

⇸ inside the car with a good playlist. you know you’re gonna be entertained for hours.

⇸ being at the front of the line

⇸ “you’re my favorite!”

⇸ the graze of a person’s fingernails lightly scratching your back. you two are both laying down in bed with only the moonlight seaping in. this must be the most relaxed you’ve been in ages

⇸ a good finale of a tv show

⇸ saying a witty one-liner that makes people laugh

⇸ going to bed on time

⇸ finding the perfect scent

⇸ kissing someone on the cheek and watching the smile that breaks out after

#keyotosprompts #fluff prompts ⋆˚✿˖°#the little things #writeblr #writing #writing prompts #otp prompts #otp writing #imagine your otp #prompts #creative writing #romance prompts #fluff prompts #prompt list #story prompts #otp ideas #writing ideas #writing prompt

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cosmosluckycharms · 4 months ago

Note

idk if u wanna write this but spider!bat reader x miles? like maybe after atsv they get totgether

Bug Like Angel

Sweet / I thought you wanted to dance

sorry this is so ass im writers block rn and its so late rn im so tired but ive been starving u guys from works sigh uhhh this is not canon to the actual storyline this is a what if

this is so ass sorry its also short cause again writers block is not fun

sorry if this is ooc im so tired

It was 9:19

You were getting ready for your first gala.

A week earlier, Alfred had promised you you'd finally get to spend time with your father.

Better late than never.

As soon as he told you about it, you went ahead and told all of your friends.

Everyone from school and the spider society.

Sure, lately you were starting to give up on Bruce being your father, but there was a tiny part of you that hoped this was what could fix your relationship.

This could be a way to finally connect with your family.

They would all see you as a sibling.

Most people would assume that you would hate galas like most people your age.

And the truth was, you did.

Even though you'd never gone to one, some of the people there would come over to the manor for visits.

You hated how all the stuck-up rich people would always talk about things that didn't interest you.

The way they would poke fun at you over never being acknowledged.

The way that they'd tell you how you looked so much like Bruce.

You shook your head and tried to get rid of the thought.

Tonight would be the night that your father would tell everyone you were his daughter.

He would boast about all your hobbies and achievements.

That everyone would finally get to see you, as Bruce Wayne's daughter, and not just a forgotten Wayne.

You spent the whole week preparing yourself for this day.

You got your nails done by Miles' mom in a way that perfectly matched your dress.

You did your hair so very perfectly, the way Peter B's MJ had taught you.

And your dress was personally done by someone in the spider society who was a fashion designer.

You had some jewelry you borrowed from Pav's aunt.

A pearl bracelet and necklace, along with some earrings.

You were so excited.

You checked the time, it was 9:32.

You had to be ready by 9:35.

Shit.

Why were you always late?

You started speeding up and putting the finishing touches.

By the time you were done, it was 9:36.

You sped down the dark miserable halls and the huge flights of stairs, being careful using the new heels you went and bought with Miles' mom.

Once you got downstairs, you were out of breath.

Once you caught it again, you saw Bruce and Tim already heading out the door.You walked up to Bruce and pulled on his sleeve, confused.

"Why is Tim coming? I thought it was just us?" you tilted your head in confusion.

Tim spoke up "You were taking too long, he decided to take me instead."

You balled up your hands in anger, but managed to calm yourself down "But Alfred told me-"

You got cut by Bruce "I don't have time for this, we're running late."

You flinched at Bruce's sudden cold tone.

A slight feeling of guilt passed through Bruce. "I'm sorry, I forgot. Maybe next time."

They started making their way out the door once again.

Tim made a stupid joke that made Bruce let out a chuckle.

You felt angry tears well up in your eyes as you stood there, frozen, as you watched them both walk away.

You furiously stomped your way back to your room, throwing your fancy purse onto the floor.

You cried at the edge of your bed, which left a stain of makeup on there.

After half an hour of pathetically crying, you sat up.

You should've known.

You should've known how Bruce wouldn't wait for you.

You should've known that he wouldn't care enough to wait for you.

Of course wouldn't, you weren't worthy enough for your father's love.

You would never be.

Bruce's love went to his other children, his sons.

You'd never be equal to them.

The more you thought about it, the more mad you were.

You had to get out of the manor before you got even more pissed.

You put on your web shooters, ignoring how you still had your big gala dress on.

You opened your window and snuck out.

You ignored how someone was most likely gonna see you swinging around without a costume.

You got to a random rooftop and sat down.

You noticed how across the building was the gala, playing loud, classical music.

You started crying once more.

You couldn't tell if it was out of sadness or anger.

Your dress was now slightly ripped and your heels were scuffed.

Your makeup was running down your face and everything was going wrong.

You just wanted to go home.

A familiar buzz and ringtone went off.

You checked your phone and checked the contact.

It was Miles.

Your heart skipped a beat and you fumbled with your phone a bit, quickly clearing your throat and picking up.

"Hello?" you said, a tad bit too excitedly.

"Hey, it's Miles."

"Oh, yeah. right."

An awkward silence passed on both ends.

"Why'd you call? I mean, it's not like I did want you to call; you're cool and all, and I do like you. I mean-! Not like, like like you, I mean like-" you rambled on for a couple more seconds before finally shutting up.

"I got a feeling I had to check up on you," he replied

"I'm fine, great even!" you spoke, obviously not fine.

"You only say that when you're not fine. I'm on my way."

Fuck.

He was on his way and you looked a mess.

You quickly tried your best to clean yourself up.

Sure, Miles wouldn't judge you for your makeup that was running down your face or your ruined dress, but you didn't want him to worry.

You cleaned yourself up as much as you could, which didn't do much.

You felt a familiar tingle in your skull.

You turned around and saw an orange portal.

As soon as Miles walked through, you got excited.

Only for that excitement to fade out to realize you still looked bad.

He looked at you, noticing how you looked like a mess "Y/n? You look like hell."

"Yeah, I just got back." you chuckled.

After yet another moment of awkward silence, you ran and tackled him into a hug, awkwardly.

He spoke up, sitting down "You look upset, what's wrong?"

"Nothing serious." you sat down next to him

"Was it your family?"

"Yeah."

"They're all assholes."

"I know, right?"

"What even happened?"

"Fucking Tim happened." you threw a random pebble at the floor.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Dude, for the last like, week I've been so excited over finally being able to go bond with my father, only to be forgotten again."

"At least you look pretty."

"You're pretty too! I mean, like, Uhm, yeah." you stuttered, face growing warm

You both talked for a while, mostly filled with you both awkwardly flirting like two middle schoolers.

After an hour or two, you could hear the gala's music blasting a romantic slow song.

You both hummed along to the slow song, you didn't notice how Miles looked at you like you were the light of his life.

He got up, making you look at him confused.

He pulled his hand out, and you took it.

You've never been a really good dancer despite being in dance at a young age.

And what made it worse was that you kept fumbling around, accidentally stepping on his shoes every 10 seconds.

Instead of just giving up on you though, he kept going.

After a minute or two, you finally got it. All you could hear was both of your laughter and the loud, slow music blaring from the gala.

Unbeknownst to you, there were a lot of people who could see you and Miles.

Luckily for him, he had his mask on.

Unluckily for you, they saw you dancing with him.

They took a lot of pictures, and you would've known if it wasn't for someone having their flash on their camera.

You can already see the headline for tomorrow's gossip magazines.

"Forgotten Wayne, seen flirting with new vigilante?"

As soon as you both noticed the flash, Miles spoke up.

"I think it's time to get you home."

Before you could protest, he picked you up bridal style and started swinging you back to the manor.

Great, the paparazzi ruined a moment with your stupid crush of a year or two.

He dropped you off at your windowsill, which had always been a blind spot for cameras.

You started turning around to go to bed, only to be turned around and kissed by Miles.

You felt your face heat up.

You both stared at each other in shock.

"Goodnight!" Miles quickly blurted out, rushing away.

You processed what happened and threw yourself onto your bed, giggling and kicking your feet.

You couldn't believe this.

The guy you've liked since you first met him 2 years ago liked you back!

It was like a fairytale dream!

The next morning you got up and ready for the day.

You knew you were most likely going to see your family eating breakfast, which made you feel nauseous with anxiety.

You didn't wanna face them.

Not Alfred.

Not Bruce.

And certainly not Tim.

You didn't understand why Bruce preferred him over you.

You didn't want to get upset all over again, so you pushed away the thought.

All you wanted to think about was the night before.

You felt like a lovesick puppy every time you thought about Miles.

You made your way to get breakfast, still in your pajamas.

You could slowly overhear some of your family's conversation.

You were nosey, so you eavesdropped.

"I just can't find anything about this guy!" you heard Tim saying

Bruce spoke, clearing his voice "Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure!" you could practically see Tim stressing from a mile away. "it's like he's not from here."

You finally got to the kitchen, about to pour some cereal for yourself.

"What did you do?" Tim barked

"Huh?" you looked at him, trying to act dumb

"Last night, 11:47 pm. where were you?" he glared

"Out and about." you tried to act natural

"Be specific."

"wouldnt you like to know weather boy?" you reached for the cereal

"You're being so stubborn." he crossed his arms

"I was in the manor." you lied

He slammed the pictures of you and Miles dancing together.

Shit.

"Hop off my dick," you spoke, angrily.

"And what about these?" Bruce placed down a picture of Miles kissing you, with the bottom of his mask lifted slightly.

A drop of sweat rolled down your face "Uhm.."

"This is dangerous! You can't be doing this. you shouldn't be dating other vigilantes." Bruce took a sip out of his coffee

"you guys do it all the time," you argued

"That's different!" he slammed the coffee mug down.

"How?"

"We know how to take care of ourselves."

"As if I don't?"

You could feel their angry stares on you.

"Listen, I'm fine now. I don't get what the big deal is."

"The big deal is how this is ruining how people see you. How people see all of us." Tim lectured

"That's all you care about? How the public sees us?" you put your hands on your hips

They went quiet for a moment and you spoke up again.

"This wouldn't have happened if you both just let me go to the gala for once," you uttered.

"This is about the gala?" Bruce asked.

"No, it's not about the gala, it's about how I've constantly been treated." You explained, trying to keep your composure "You guys only care when I'm doing something that harms you socially."

Bruce was about to speak up only for you to walk back to your room, still hungry.

"Just let her be," Tim said, looking at the pictures yet again.

He couldn't help but wonder,who was that boy?

im sorry this is so ass omg

no taglist this time bcs this isnt canon

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deepestdelulu · 8 months ago

Text

How to be confident part 2

Be proud of your achievements.

No more people pleasing. Something I had to learn is that you don't have to be everyone's darling.

Get out of your comfort zone. Get a coffee and chat with the barista, go to a concert alone, try a new hobby and so on :)

Talk politely and expand your vocabulary. Reading and writing can help a lot!

Start journaling. Vent when you need to, it doesn't have to be pretty or aesthetic; clean your mind.

Watch your body language. Stand up straight, don't slouch, walk with purpose, and don't hide your hands.

Don't be afraid to ask questions.

Stop chasing people. The ones meant to stay in your life will remain with you. Sometimes we need to distance ourselves from people so we can grow! :)

Moisturized. I get nervous when my lips and hands are dry!

Keep your standards high. This applies to friendships, dating, grades, pretty much anything. Self-respect!!

Don't let people interrupt you!!

Start each day with a positive mindset. Get up in the morning with purpose and try to make the best out of any day. <3

Be on time. Coming late to something important is always a bit awkward.

Use fewer filler words when speaking. Uhm, just, like, I think, etc. Don't be afraid to slow down and think about what you want to say. Take your time!

Don't chase anyone's validation. Instead, do things for yourself and make yourself proud.

Unfollow people on social media that make you feel bad about yourself.

Be kind. I see people on TikTok all the time being rude and mean to appear confident. Let's be honest, they look quite silly, lol.

Have a signature scent! I like something that gives me comfort and helps me stay calm. My fav is vanilla. <3

Don't look at your phone when entering a room or going somewhere. Instead, try being as present as possible, or at least look like you are, lol.

Take care of your appearance. Whatever feels good to you, maybe get a lash lift, find makeup that works for you, clean nails, wear something you like...

Don't tell everyone your insecurities. Putting yourself down is not a good conversation topic.

Make time for yourself. Relax, recharge and focus on yourself. <3

Confidence is a huge deal, so if you have any questions feel free to ask them in the comments or my 'ask me anything'. I will also make a post soon on how to improve your public speaking! <3

I also plan on going through my asks Tomorrow (Sunday), so if you have anything you would like to share or need advice on, just submit it to the link above (the ask on, haha) <33

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stychu-stych · 9 months ago

Note

Could we have some of your Lamb head canons please?

I'm going with my modern au because it's my little obsession right now sijssj

I'm cutting the post so it wouldn't be so long. The whole description is below

So the whole thing with Old Faith as the most powerful religion and Bishops is mostly the same like in the game. The world looks similar to our in 1700s, sheep was hunted down over the decades and Lambert was in the group of the last ones. That group was caught and killed, Lamb was lucky enough to be outside the camp at this time but they didn't enjoy their freedom for so long. As a single sheep it was hard to survive on their own

Lamb seeing their wife for the first time sjsbsjsh

Lamber was caught some time later by bounty hunters. However, an accident happened when Lamb tried to escape one night - there were shot in the stomach badly enough that further travel was impossible without them bleeding out. So since Lamb was going to die anyway, the bounty hunters figured out they'd at least bring Old Faith their head. They didn't wait for Lamb to bleed out first, so that death wasn't fast or easy.

First years as a cult leader weren't easy. Taking care of the flock, learning how to fight, figuring out how rituals work, it was a lot for young Death's vessel. Lamb couldn't get used to their new role for some time. But Ratau was a huge help, beloved rat-dad was as much supportive as he could

After their first century as cult leader, Lamb began to feel comfortable in their role, perhaps a little to much I would say. Their grow their wool and started to pay more attention to their appearance and to the things that brought them pleasure. They started to fully enjoy their immortal life, to be too self-confident focused too much on themselves. They liked being in the center of attention, with the flock fully devoted to them. They even started to add a new tattoo with every kill of a Bishop or their the most devoted followers (as a trophy)

Beginning of XX century, Lamb become TOWW's little killing machine, no fear of death or pain. Ready to die, just to stand up and go killing again. They were fully devoted to Narinder in the most toxic way, ready to do absolutely everything just to make their god satisfied. Lamb didn't even realize how obsessed they were with Narinder at that time

Modern times, with Narinder already indoctrinated into the cult. Lamb as a selfish, egocentric, ready to do everything to achieve their goals bastard. Still unhealthy devoted to Narinder but this time in a different way - on one hand madly in love with him, on the other hating him with all their heart because of he did to them. Either way both of those strong feelings keep them close to him

Jeez this post took me more time to write than to draw djdbdjdj I'm soooo bad at writing

#ask stychu #cotl #cult of the lamb #cotl art #cotl fanart #stychu's hcs #cotl modern au #stychu's art

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reminiscingthesea · 20 days ago

Text

Golden Girl

Synopsis- Being your school’s best student isn’t easy.. and it gets in the way all the time !

Warning- Contains smut, AFAB reader, set in college AU, modern AU, angst at the start (sorry)

Tags- Reverse cowgirl, face sitting, minor bondage (Phainon is holds your hands behind your back at one point), mirror sex, sex with feelings, makeup sex(?), soft dom Phainon

As your school’s golden girl, people often praised you for your immense dedication towards your academic and extra curricular abilities, or just praising your impressive accomplishments. Be it teachers, students, parents, or even younger children who looked up to you, everyone had something to say about you, mostly about your drive and unyielding motivation towards success and prosperity.

But, what balanced out the colossal praise you received, came the heavy weighing expectations and presumptions of many, along with the pressure of fulfilling everyone’s aspirations, to not disappoint them. Being the golden girl of this school was.. great.

“So, [Name]. You understand that this project must be completed by only the most exceptional, most brightest of students, yes?” Your professor’s voice rang out, his voice stern and low as he spoke. Though his tone calculated and slow, you knew exactly where this was leading to. You don’t know how many times you’ve had this same conversation over and over again.

“Yes.” You replied coolly, attempting to keep your voice of disappointment and exhaustion to a low, feigning indifference.

“Then I’m sure you’re more than willing to take this project on? You see,” He only momentarily stopped to get up and begin wiping off some marker off the huge whiteboard that hung on the giant wall, continuing as he wiped the ink off with a soft cloth. “The students here are bright, and very capable people. But you, [Name], are by far the most extraordinary, a.. divergence if you will.” Ugh. Could he just get to the point already?? You were starting to become frustrated as he kept going on and on about how much better you were compared to your peers.

“Look, Sir. If you’re asking me to take on this project, then I’ll do it.” You were thankful his back was still turned to you as you spoke, otherwise, he’d catch a glimpse of your exasperated, unimpressed face.

“Ah, wonderful! I’ll email you the details as soon as possible. You may get going now.” His tone became more dismissive as he drew near the end of his sentence, you weren’t surprised. People expected perfection so much, yet never cared to know if you needed help or guidance to achieve such a height, leaving you on your own.

With a silent nod, you left his office, biting your lower lip, your eyebrows knitted together, a tired frown on your face as you began walking back to your dorm, not realising the presence of a certain someone behind you until..

“..Gotcha!” A cheerful, bubbly voice rang out from behind, breaking you out of your train of thought, feeling yourself being lifted up off the ground and spun around in the air like a doll. Two nice, shapely, strong hands sunken gently into the softness of your waist. You knew exactly who this was.

“Phainon! Put me down!!” You shrieked playfully, kicking your legs in mock protest. With a giggle, he set you down and spun you around to face him. Him in all his ridiculously gorgeous glory.

As you were turned to face him, you were met with his downright attractive appearance. As he looked down at you with a beaming smile on his face, almost resembling a puppy of some sorts. Which breed, you forgot, focusing only on his look. A soft, cotton varsity jersey, with yellow and blue accents, and letters that resembled the word ‘OKHEMA’ in black at the centre, which was broken up due to being unbuttoned. You looked up again to meet his eyes once more, so blue that held secrecy behind his sunny pupils.

“I didn’t give you too much of a scare, did I? I saw you walking into professor’s office, thought I’d wait a bit before greeting my lovely girlfriend.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, beginning to walk you out the hallway, and towards the plaza of the campus. The soft scent of his cologne invaded your senses, to which you responded by nuzzling closer to him as you walked.

“You really did scare me, idiot. Don’t do that again!” Your words were stern and commanding, but your tone was all the more lighthearted and joking. As were the two of you with each other.

Around him, you could truly be yourself. The sillier, laid back, lazier, happier you. Devoid of any stress of upcoming assignments or speeches or whatever. And the same could be said about him. Because around you, he was weaker, more vulnerable, far from the charming, charismatic sports’ team captain everyone in Okhema University knew. Many said you two were perfect for each other, but they didn’t know how true that statement really was; the golden girl and boy of Okhema University.

But unlike you, Phainon managed to keep his emotions in check. His stress levels at a low. He knew when to slow down, when to take a step back, when he needed to relax. Not because he had less expectations to bear, of course not! If anything, he was just up to par with you when it came to the expectation-off. But again, he still managed to make time for himself, make time for you.

“Hey listen, I’ve got a basketball game tonight, against Kremnos Academy. Wanna be my cheerleader? I’ll shoot a goal for you” He had now turned to face you, his hand holding yours, his gaze hopeful and bright. You really didn’t want to say no to his face, especially not one like that! But..

“..I’m sorry, Phainon. But I’ve got this project to work on tonight.” Your voice was soft and meek as you spoke, looking down, not wanting to see the way his face would fall like a sad little pup. You swore your heart broke and shattered into a million pieces when you heard the quietest ‘oh..’ come from his mouth. After a few grueling beats, he spoke once more.

“..It’s fine. I know you’re busy, all the time. I better get going then, gotta prepare and stuff.” God, you hated his tone of voice now, how much more distant it was. He normally sounded like this whenever he was down or upset, which was always such a rare occurrence, yet you still hated it all the more.

Just as he turned on his heel to walk away, you grabbed his bicep from behind, a pleading, but hopeful look on your face now whilst he turned to face you again.

“W-wait. Aren’t you gonna give me your jersey? Y’know, for good luck?”

Phainon paused for a moment, looking down at his jersey, then at you, then back at his jersey.

“I need to keep it. It’s gonna be cold today, wouldn’t want to catch a cold before the match.”

Your mouth fell agape slightly, your eyes widening a fraction. Normally, before every match for any sport, he’d give his jersey to you for good luck, to win the upcoming game, so him not giving it to you clearly meant you fucked up.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I’m just-“

“-so cooped up with work. I get it. You don’t have to recycle the same story over and over again to avoid being around me, you know?” Before you could even get a word out to protest, or even process his words properly, he loosened your grip on his jacket and walked off, away from you without a word.

You stumbled slightly, taken aback. You really didn’t like it when he spoke like that. But could you blame him? You almost never had time for him, and while he did understand why, you could tell he was growing tired of it. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you thought of the worst whilst walking back the other way towards your shared dorm.

He did so much for you, yet you couldn’t do anything. You didn’t deserve him. Not one bit.

Hunched over your desk, you groaned in frustration. The project your professor had assigned you was complete bull. It was dedicated to the research and history of quantum physics. Quantum physics! You weren’t even interested in that sort of stuff. But of course, you were Okhema’s golden girl, of course you had to be good at these things without even knowing a lick of it.

You held your head in your hand as you typed, jamming your fingers into letter pad after letter pad, trying to find out more about certain scientists and facts about the subject, but it was becoming more and more difficult as connection grew weaker, due to the fact that a storm was brewing up outside.

Your eyes averted to the right hand corner of your computer’s screen, which read ‘18:50’ in white. Phainon’s game would begin in five minutes. Maybe you should wish him good luck before his game starts, you thought.

Pulling out your phone, you began typing out your message. Not too sweet, not too formal. Just casual, to match his earlier energy.

[Name]: “Good luck on your basketball game babe. I’m cheering you on from our dorm :)”

-seen by Phainon.

..Was he serious? He really left you on seen? He didn’t even respond back and it was now 18:53. A pang of pain ran through you as you took in his ‘response’. No. You couldn’t focus on him now. You had to finish this project. You could apologise later when he’d come back. With a sigh, you set your phone face-down next to you on the table, typing and writing away, a dull ache beginning to creep up in your hand.

The time was now 9PM. You had spent just over two hours on such a little project, and it still wasn’t done. Why your professor initially decided to have just you do this project was absolutely beyond you. But being you, you had to over complicate this somehow, make it more informing, more knowledgeable, make it more than just some biography on some old scientists. Because after all, it was you. You had to be more than just ordinary,

But you were growing all the more tired, and Phainon should’ve come back by now. Your neck ached, your hands hurt and bruised, your eyes stung, your back screamed for softness.

Stressed, tired, hurt, sad, frustrated, angry at yourself, thoughts speeding through your mind at too many miles an hour. You hated this. You wanted out. You wanted Phainon- but did he even want you now? You’re such a shitty, avoidant girlfriend. He deserves so much better it’s insane. He’s the boy of every girl’s dreams. Why is he even with you? Why does everyone demand so much of you? Why are you like this? Why are you so exceptional? Why are you a disappointment? Why are you here? Why does Phainon love you. Why did Phainon even love you. Why-

“[Name]? [Name]?!”

You shuddered and gasped as you heard that voice, as it broke you out of your crazed daze. It took you a few moments to regain full control of your surroundings, of your senses. And once you did, let’s just say, it wasn’t pretty.

Your notes, instead of having actual words scribbled on them, were filled with jagged lines and sentences that didn’t make sense at all. You gingerly, carefully, brought up your hand to your face, feeling the presence of slippery tears coating your lower eyes and cheeks. Feeling familiar, warm hands travel from your shoulders down to your knees from the side, you were again, met with the appearance of someone you love. Phainon.

“P-Phainon. I-“ Choked and broken as you spoke, unable to form a coherent sentence or thought, as the events of earlier crashing back into your mind like a tsunami once more.

“Shh, shh.. it’s fine. I got y-“

“Phai— non!” You yelled as you dropped yourself from your seat and into his arms, taking him aback, sobbing violently against his warm chest.

“I-I’m- so sorry— never- n-never make time for you-! I’m a h-horrible girl-girlfriend!” Breaking out into even more sobs and cries, you clutched onto him tightly, as if moulding his form into yours. Your throat felt full, your vocal cords hurt. You couldn’t speak properly, your eyes squeezed shut, not bearing to see him face to face, eye to eye.

Slowly, you felt his arms wrapping around you in a tight, but comforting, soothing embrace, with one of his hands coming up to gently stroke your sore back. His lips, frost kissed due to the cold weather, peppered sweet pecks over your head, in your hair, making their way down to your forehead.

And once his lips reached your forehead, he carefully reached for your chin with his fingers, tilting it upwards to face him, to see your face, to see you. His expression turned pained once he saw the absolute state you were in. Face puffy and red, eyes widened and overflowing with tears that streamed down your pretty cheeks in big, fat streams. Your hair, a complete mess, and you didn’t even realise that until his hand moved from your chin to delicately fix up the sprawled out strands, even if it helped a little.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered quietly, but his voice wasn’t shallow or distant like before. It was full of pain. Painful regret, anger towards himself, sadness for you. Seeing you like this hurt him, and knowing you, he was probably partially at fault.

“You look so worn out.. that project mustn’t have treated you well, huh?” He spoke up, his tone now lighter than before, but still low with sorrow. Too broken to speak, you could only nod pitifully in response.

“I-I just can’t.. can’t do this. I can’t keep being this school’s best. It’s too much, I’m so tired..”

Still unable to look him in the eyes, you tucked your head back under the crook of his neck, your lips finding refuge over that beautiful sun tattoo of his. But they didn’t pucker out to kiss it, no, they simply stayed put, grazing over the soft, sensitive skin.

“I know. And I was stupid enough not to see it before. I was stupid for not helping you carry those burdens.”

Lightly, he brought your face up once again, now cupping your cheeks with his hands, which pressed against the soft skin daintily, before his thumbs moved to brush away the tears that lingered on your skin and eyes. His face, so close to yours, you could see the faint red blush that crept onto his pale cheeks, which deepened into a more pronounced shade as your gaze became more intense. His eyes, cerulean, sunlit pupils, long, dark lashes.

“Phainon..” You whispered softly, your voice still croaky and weak from your crying session. “..need, need you..”

To this, Phainon smiled lovingly, adoringly, as he gazed too into your pupils, his eyes flickering to your lips for a split second.

“Then let me help you, golden girl.”

With that, he pulled you in for a loving, passionate kiss. His teeth gently came out to nip at the plush of your bottom lip, eliciting a quiet gasp from your mouth. Feeling your hand grabbing at his side, he carefully pushed you down backwards until you lay on the floor. Pulling back for air, his lips crashed onto yours yet again, the tender action now turning more fervent and zealous, as your legs wrapped around his waist, caging him in. The hot muscle of his tongue made its way through your plump lips, and into the expanse of your mouth, whilst his teeth came down to lightly nip at your bottom lip once more.

Pulling away with gasps, faces flushed, lips slightly bruised, the two of you could each see the look of frenzied passion, an all-consuming force. His fingers entwined with yours, bringing one hand up to kiss each of your knuckles, as he straddled your hips, a toned thigh on either side of your torso.

His eyes looked into yours, as if seeking approval, to which you replied with a gentle nod. And as if on cue, his snow soft fingers began making work of your clothes, starting off with your shirt’s buttons.

Slowly, bit by bit, he attentively slid off the article of clothing, discarding it to the side, making work of your bra next. Unhooking it with one hand, sliding it off with the other, he took in the marvel of the two beautiful mounds of flesh. With his thumb, he slowly rolled it against one of your nipples, drawing out a soft whimper from you.

“Like that, golden girl?” He teased faintly, a small grin on his face as he took in your expression of want- no. Need.

“Yes..” A soft plea for more, disguised by one word. He knew you needed him, just as much as he needed you.

With two hastened, but all the more loving, kisses to each of your nipples, which were now hardened and perkier, his hands came down to the waistband of your pants. Coaxing you to lift your hips up with a motion of his fingers, he pulled down your pants, setting them aside with your shirt and bra, leaving you just in a pair of your soft black panties; lacy at the top and near the bottom.

His fingers came underneath the velvety fabric, one on each thigh, before slowly, adoringly, pulling it down. Over the expanse of your ass, then thighs, then your pretty legs, hooking your feet out of them once they were off completely. He made note of the slightly shiny wet patch in the middle of them as he threw them to the side.

“My pretty girl.. my beautiful [Name]. My golden girl..” He spoke reverently as he looked into your eyes, his gaze worshipful. His face came down yet again, peppering soft kisses over your cheeks, eyelids, eyebrows, nose, forehead, and finally, a longer, more deeper one on your darkened lips again.

Moving down, he began planting even more kisses that resembled sucks and slight bites with his nipping. Starting off from your neck, he left light red love bites in his wake, trailing over your collarbone, to your breasts, leaving more marks in his trail, around your mounds and nipples, downwards towards your stomach now, biting at the soft, sensitive skin, leaving darker marks now.

Finally, he reached your thighs, his hands coming back up to knead at the doughy flesh, before suddenly, picking you up.

“W-what’re you-“

You were silenced by a hush from him as he set you back down on your feet. You were both now facing the body mirror that stood on the opposite side of your room. In your reflection, you could see him standing behind you, his height dwarfing yours almost.

Then, in an instant, he got down on his knees behind you, turning around, and sitting up, so that his head was in between your thighs. Staring down at him with a more baffled, shocked expression, you tried moving his head away, or more-so, trying to move yourself away, which proved to be no use, as his arms were locked around your waist in a vice-like grip.

“Phainon- just what are you doing??” You asked cluelessly, dumbfounded as you took in his expression again. His eyes were glazed over with love as he looked up at you, to which, you could almost see the drool leaking from his mouth.

“Sit on me.”

“What?”

“Sit on me. Please, moonlight. You’re so pretty, I want you to see it when I fuck you with my mouth.”

Just as you tried to argue, he tilted his head to the side, imitating that of a puppy. And god, was it irresistible. There was really no room to argue with a look like that on his face. Slowly, carefully, he laid back down, mindful not to hit his head on your mirror behind him. Not that he’d mind anyways.

You then got down on your knees, a thigh on each side of his head, but not quite over his face. A look of uncertainty crossed over your face, you were hesitant.

“C’mon, golden girl. Sit on my face, wanna make you feel good.” He drawled slowly, his hands on your hips, pulling you gently towards him, his grip firm, but not painful, but enough for you to feel his raw need behind them.

“F-fine. Just tell me if it gets too painful, okay?” You demanded quietly, your voice stern, but loving.

“Yes ma’am~” He responded jokingly, a lopsided grin on his face, that you oh-so wanted to slap off.

Cautiously, you moved your hips, so that your pussy, sopping wet as it was, hovered over his face. You could almost feel the warmth, the heat, of his tongue that ghosted under your folds from his mouth. Slowly, you lowered yourself down onto his mouth, until you felt his warm tongue come back out to lick at your sensitive, responsive folds, which fluttered slightly at the feeling of the hot muscle lick over them.

In front of you, you saw yourself in the mirror. Your reflection showed your face, all flushed out as he fucked you with his mouth, your eyes momentarily leaving the sight to roll back as his tongue made way to your clit, rolling it around expertly.

“A-ah.. shit, fuck..” You moaned weakly, almost hesitatingly, as your hands clutched onto the sides of the mirror, holding onto it. Your hips lifted up slightly, to which Phainon responded by roughly pulling them back down onto his head, his tongue continuing in its ministrations.

Phainon, not wanting to deal with you moving about, swiftly grabbed your hands, pulling them away from the mirror and behind your back, holding them there whilst his tongue made its way into the tight hole of your pussy, licking at your walls, tightening slightly, as if to stretch you out.

Crying out his name and squirming, he only continued mouth fucking you as you rode his face, your hips jerking a little as he’d hit a particularly good spot in you. His free hand came down onto your hip with a soft smack, as if to get you to calm down and take it well.

Feeling your walls clench around his tongue, he knew you were drawing closer and closer, so he sped up his mouth’s actions, his tongue contracting out your pussy and over your folds yet again, lapping up your juices so eagerly, making dirty slurping noises— that were downright pornographic. But not as pornographic as the moans you let out were. They were broken, yet loud and breathy, weak whimpers that left your lips, tears of pleasure streaking down your face as you grew more desperate for that sweet release.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror once more, you saw how fucked out you looked now. Just from his mouth alone. You saw the multiple love bites and hickeys he lay scattered across your front form, seizing around your hips, and god was it hot.

“P-Phainon- I-I’m close-! I- haah- mmgh..”

Phainon felt the soft liquid of your cum pour into his mouth, coating his lips, drinking it up eagerly. Panting softly, huffing for air, he tenderly removed you from his face, settling for you to sit on his chest, your hands now free again. He saw the pretty way you kept a hand over you chest as you gasped for air, the way your face was flushed a soft red, how your eyes began causing tears of pleasure to stream down your cheeks.

Licking his lips, Phainon looked up at you with a ginger, blissed out, boyish smile on his face, which was covered with your juices and slick, his lips shiny with the gloss of your cum.

“Phainon.. are you, are you okay? I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I..?” You asked nervously, worry and concern etching itself onto your facial features as you leaned down to cup his face in your hands this time, checking for bruises or whatnot. Phainon, with a low chuckle, nuzzled his cheek against one of your warm, slightly clammy palms.

“I’m fine, [Name]. Except for maybe feeling a little bit of yearning for those thighs around me again..” He jested, earning him a soft punch on the shoulder from you, which served to only make his grin wider, and his laugh louder. Phainon began shifting underneath you, sitting up with his back pressed against the mirror, with you straddling his lap now, sitting on it.

“Want you to taste yourself, golden girl..” His voice sounded like honey, it reminded you of a siren’s with the way it hypnotised you, drew you into an ocean of desire, as you leaned in to capture his lips in a sweet, zealous kiss. Your taste lingered on his tongue and lips, stimulating the sensitive taste buds on your tongue with your unique taste.

Pulling back with a smile, he held you close, before shifting slightly, turning around so that he too was facing the mirror, your back against his. Your legs had been spread out quite widely, showing your glistening, creamy cunt in the mirror’s reflection.

“See that, angel? Absolutely stunning..” He whispered sultrily into your ear from behind as he held you on his lap, his hands gently coming up to fondle your sensitive tits, purposely grazing over the hickeys he had left near your nipple, to draw out a huskily moan from your side.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror, golden girl” His order felt like satin, velvet sheets with how rich he sounded, your eyes following his words, as if you were truly controlled by a siren’s harmonic music. Slowly, in your reflection, you could see the way the expanse of one his hands began moving downwards, towards your cunt once more, his long, lithe fingers extending slightly to just about reach the bud of your clit near the top.

The roll and flick of his fingers made you throw your head back in delight, you were still so sensitive and overstimulated from his tongue, you thought you were about to cum again right then and there. Your head now lolled over his shoulder as he continued his ministrations on your clit, before wrapping his other hand around your throat.

“What did I say before? Eyes on the mirror.” Shuddering at his change of tone, you complied, mulling it over as you brought your head back up to face the mirror.

With a satisfied smile and a peck to your neck, his fingers continued their dance over your clit, until two of them crept lower, down to the leaking entrance of your pussy. Keeping your eyes on the mirror, you could see how his eyes darkened with an almost sadistic delight, how his teeth came into view in a grin.

He then slid two of his two slim fingers into you, scissoring you open and curling them together, hitting a certain spongey, sensitive spot within you, eliciting a strangled, angelic sounding moan from you. As he fingered you, you could hear your name being uttered quietly under his breath in a praying manner, as if he was a devotee to the goddess that was you, his golden girl, his light.

From behind, you could feel the ever growing, big bulge in his pants, only being able to imagine just how hard he was. You subconsciously grinded your ass against his the tent in his pants, swearing you could feel a twitch from within his crotch as you did. As you did that, his calloused fingers slipped in and out your pussy quicker, his thumb working hastily on your bud, his fingers curling back and forth into tight rings against your gummy walls, as if trying to draw out another orgasm for you quickly.

Of course, this made you squirm in pure pleasure, your hips jerking as you felt yourself drawing closer to that sweet release. Your moans became more pronounced, more desperate and high pitched, your eyes rolling back as you tried not tilting your head back, trying to keep your eyes on your reflection. Completely spent you looked, but you could still tell you wanted more, and Phainon knew that just as well.

Your walls clamped around his fingers so tightly, it almost made Phainon cum in his pants almost instantly, and it didn’t help how irresistible you looked from what he saw in the mirror from behind you. How badly did he want to cum all over your stunning face, marking it, signifying it of its beauty.

“Ah-h!— C-cummi— cummingh..”

The arch of your back up from against his chest, and the soft liquid of your squirt coating his fingers was enough to tell him that he had delivered you bliss. But he wanted more, he wanted to please you so bad, those degrading thoughts of yours would vanish from your perfect head completely, easing your gentle mind.

“Fuck, doll. Gonna fuck the stress outta’ you now.. so pretty n’ perfect you don’t deserve feelin’ feelings like that. Gonna show you my love..”

His voice was hasty as he spoke, carefully lifting you off of him to make quick work of his pants and underwear, his dick springing out in its full length, which almost made your pussy ache at the sight of when you turned back to look at him. A pinkish-red tip that was coated in his slick, almost translucent white pre, the girth thick enough to almost split you in half and fill you right up, the length big enough to hit every sweet spot inside you in a combo.

Letting out a low ‘haah-‘ he took off his shirt, revealing his beautifully toned torso. Muscular, but not too much to the point where it became overbearing, a slim, but toned, almost bulky body if you will.

“Ride me, [Name].. you should see how beautiful you are on my cock..” His voice was coercing as he leaned in to talk into your ear from behind just as he did before, his hands moving to your hips, as if to lead them onto his cock.

Which is just what you did. Slowly, carefully, you lifted yourself up, your pussy now hovering over the head of his cock. And steadily, you lowered yourself onto his dick, his length stretching you out. The pain wasn’t too unbearable, but the sting of your walls and skin stretching to fit around him and accommodate to his large size drew out a dirty, guttural moan from you.

Feeling him fill you up completely, your eyes moved back to the mirror, seeing the way a bulge in your womb began to show as he was gradually eased into you bit by bit.

“There you go, good girl..” He praised softly once you took in his full size, bracing himself onto his strong forearms, leaning back to support himself as you began rocking your hips, before beginning to bounce up and down in a rhythmic manner.

“Hah- ah.. ah!-“ You cried out, covering your mouth with your own forearm, which was quickly shoved away (albeit, tenderly) by Phainon’s hand. Taking the hint, you gained stability and fucked yourself silly on his cock, feeling the thick head bully the core of your pussy, you were bound to come out with a bruised cervix the next day..

Behind you, you could hear the way Phainon groaned and moaned, whimpering your name under his breath, his hand coming back to hold onto the fat of your waist, gripping it in pleasure, loving the way your walls would clench so sweetly around his shaft, as if trying to squeeze him and milk him dry. Not that he’d mind though.

With the throw of his head back, the adam’s apple of his throat bobbed, his grunts becoming more strangled and aching.

“Gods- I’m close. Fuck.. pretty girl, golden girl.. cum with me. Please, fuck..” His tone became higher as he spoke, drawing closer to the edge, and knowing you, you were just as close to the brink as he was. His hips suddenly slammed up against yours in a desperate, needy manner, his head coming up to lean over your own shoulder now, looking into the mirror as he fucked himself up into you, ripping shocked cries from you as he did.

“You see that, golden girl? Fuckin’ beautiful mess, just as you should be.. fall apart for me, I’ll piece you back together.. gonna make you feel so good..!”

With a wail, you both fell over the edge, the knot in your stomachs snapping after coiling and fastening together for so long. You loved the way his cum felt inside you, how the warm, gooey liquid coated your insides in a warm, comforting embrace. It made you feel so full of him.

Both huffing and panting for air, Phainon weakly pulled yourself off him, whining slightly at the cold feeling of the air now that his cock wasn’t warmed up by the oh-so welcoming, warming walls of your cunt. The two of you fell back, with you atop of Phainon now, as you still gasped in recovery. Your face, which was leaning against his chest by your cheek, was alluringly flushed, coated with the shiny gleam of your sweat. You looked hopelessly divine, he thought.

“You did so good f’me, golden girl.. so good for me..” He mumbled cordially, voice so soothing and lulling. His hand brushed against your back, rubbing it in a loving, light manner, alleviating you from your high as your pants turned into weaker whimpers and puffs.

The room was silent for some time, not an award silence by any means, but more of a comforting tranquillity, as the two of you held each other in your arms silently. After a few beats, Phainon spoke up once more, his tone less broken and fervent, more soothing and calm.

“How do you feel, [Name]? I wasn’t too hard on you?..”

His voice was a mix of tender sweetness and worry, as the concern laced itself in like thread. Pulling yourself up, you braced yourself on your forearms, looking down at his face, which was made even prettier with his flushed cheeks, glossy eyes, kiss bruised lips..

“I’m fine.. I feel good. Thank you for making me feel better..”

To that, Phainon chuckled softly, the sound resonant and subdued.

“That’s good to hear..” His eyes showed signs of hesitation as he averted his gaze from yours in slight shame and regret, before continuing again.

“I’m sorry again for how I was treating you earlier today. I was just.. really out of it, and I wanted you by my side. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. It was out of turn for me.” He sounded apologetic and faint, his eyes showing hints of pain behind them now.

But your face morphed into a gentle look of sympathy and love, a soft smile that reached your eyes, crinkling them slightly as you tenderly turned his chin back to face yours with your fingers.

“It’s okay, I forgive you. I take it we were both stressed today, you with your upcoming game, me with my.. endless work. But I just want you to know that I love you, truly. Even if burdens and errands take up my time, please, don’t drift from me.. I need you just as much as you need me.”

Phainon’s eyes widened a fraction, taking in your words with an unreadable, but fragile expression, before a small smile grew larger on his face.

“It was just so.. cruel of me to lash out like that on you, to speak to you like that... Especially considering how stressed you must’ve been beforehand.. and I especially feel bad knowing I made you feel like a bad girlfriend—which you’re not, by the way. Just to make that clear.” He huffed, earning him a soft giggle from you as the atmosphere became more lighthearted and colorful again. He laughed along with you, keeping his arms locked tight around your waist.

“I really do love you, [Name]. My golden girl, sunlight, dawnlight, moonlight, starlight…”

“There’s no need to call me all those silly names, idiot.” You scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes as you spoke. “Anyways. I love you too, Phainon. Even if you made me cry today.”

Phainon pouted, flicking your forehead gently with his finger, before a playful light shimmered in his cerulean eyes.

“Made you cry twice today, actually.” He corrected in a condescending, matter-of-fact tone. In response, you hit at his chest, a red hue dusting over your sweaty cheeks again, staying silent, not knowing what to say.

For a while, it stayed like that, again. The two of you holding each other in uninterrupted, peaceful silence. With you atop him, the both of you tuckered out and lazy. But, you couldn’t help but break the silence with one, last question.

“So.. how did your basketball game go today?”

Phainon looked up at you with a glare, but it looked more like the scowl of an angry puppy or kitten. Or a cute pout, with the way his lips puckered and cheeks slightly puffed out.

Maybe he should give you his jersey before every game from now on.

#honkai star rail #hsr #phainon x reader #phainon hsr #hsr men #female reader #phainon smut #phainon x you #phainon x reader smut

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iluvmnoori · 14 days ago

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RANDOM HEADCANONS ⭑.ᐟ

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ pairing: rumi x reader, mira x reader, zoey x reader, jinu x reader, abby x reader, romance x reader, mystery x reader, baby x reader

synopsis: random things i believe would be a thing they would do/something that would happen when with them

wc: 1013

content: headcanons, maybe a bit crack

a/n: no one requested this, no one asked, but i did. am i feeling shame? not quite sure but i hope you enjoy the worms in my brain. 🫴

reblogs/comments vv appreciated if you enjoyed! okay buh bye! ⋆ ꩜ ⋆

thinking about rumi letting you braid her hair. especially with how long and egregious her hair is, it’s gonna take a long while (braids are not easy ever, especially with hair that long, like hello???) she doesn’t really let people touch her hair because of all the work and how she needs to look flawless but one mention of it, she is definitely sat down. she sits on the floor between your legs as you sit on the couch with your fingers in her hair (ikkk it’s so soft), humming while you work through it and if you fail miserably or not she just smiles and says, “i don’t think i need a stylist anymore now that you’re here. you’re stuck doing this forever now, right?”

thinking about mira give you lessons about walking in heels. a fashion icon, a diva., she’s everything you’re not (can you wear a sleeping bag at a met gala? no? i didn’t think so. 🫵) she’s teaching you the ropes, because if she manages such a stunt that’s just another achievement under her belt. you start strutting across the room like it’s a real runway, correcting your banana back the moment it crawls back. “back straight. core tight. confidence first, then step. glare at any and all opponents if needed, it’s not optional.” when you start wobbling (i would too, don’t worry) she just smirks as she catches you, “i won’t let you fall. you’re wearing my shoes after all. now again, from the top.” god bless you when you progress to dancing in heels.

thinking about zoey bouncing ideas off of you for lyrics. obviously being known as the lyricist and the reason huntr/x drops absolutely bangers, it’s a lot of pressure but two brains work better than one (even if you do share the same brain cells). she often texts you lyrics, shows you her huge arrangement of notebooks with doodles and notes all about music theory and whatever complicated stuff goes into music, or just straight up stops you in the middle of cereal to let them out in the air and for your needed judgement. “how are we supposed to diss the saja boys with lyrics like these? this won’t do! do you think these lyrics are a bit desperate? i just know you do!” she mutters over breakfast as she flips through the pages of her notebook, and you put out a hand to block any projectiles from heading your way. “well if it’s a takedown—“ “a takedown! you’re a genius!” a genius you are indeed.

thinking about jinu waking you up in the asscrack of dawn to watch the sunset. ripping off the covers with way too much enthusiasm going good morning sunshine! …like it’s 3 in the morning, jinu, i need my beauty sleep. even if you whine, you groan, you threaten violence on his entire heritage, he’s unmoved in resolve. he’s dragging you by the legs, shining his cellphone light in your eyes, yelling in your ears until you get up and can’t go back to sleep. “the world gets so quiet, you can almost hear your heartbeat.” “the one that won’t be beating once i—“ and silence, because damn the sunset is actually beautiful. “told ya.” “shut up, you jungkook lookalike.”

thinking about abby having you tag him at the gym. there is no convincing me that he is a gym bro (probably on that red pill, blue pill, one pill, two pill ideology as well) and totally thinks he’s doing you a favor by hauling you to the nearest gym. he’s always flexing in the mirror and hyping you so much you’re bound to get kicked out but the dude is jacked so he’s the obvious answer for pointers and spotting. don’t compliment his muscles and DO NOT under no circumstances compliment his abs or you’ll be there all day.

thinking about romance doing skincare with you. i mean his hair literally looks like a barbie hairbrush from one of them playsets, but anyways. he’s going above and beyond, lighting candles, pulling out sheet masks, explaining hyaluronic and glycolic acid and with all the promos he gets from every beauty brand imaginable it’s all free stuff! but don’t ever mention only using soap and water to this man, he might actually break out and cry and tell you no wonder you look like that… “excuse me?” “don’t worry, i know all this stuff like it’s homework. after today, it’ll be like you peeled off your skin and applied a brand new one.” “whatever you say buddy.” totally falls asleep while waiting on the mask, don’t tell me otherwise.

thinking about mystery just staring at you. not even looking, just staring. like do you want something? you can’t even see his eyes but you can tell that he’s staring into your soul (which honestly he might actually), looking at you like this: 👁️👄👁️. don’t tell me that’s not even scary, he might jump on you like a rabid animal and you’ll never see the light of day again. “what?”, you say looking at him as you brush your teeth, and he just shrugs, “nothing…just you.” just side eye him and go on with your day. lowkey, you’re his favorite view behind all that hair but don’t tell anybody so shh.

thinking about baby clocking you for no reason. the type to scan you up and down, yes scan, and the most downright diabolical stuff you’ve ever heard in your life. “why are you built like a soggy paper towel?” “your face is built like a question mark.” “you talk like you’re breath got stuck in your throat halfway.” “i’ve never seen someone’s eyelashes so crooked in my life.” like stop man, please! have mercy! my ego can only take so much, what did i even do?! he knows he’s flawless and uses it to his advantage all the time saying something along the lines of “that’s why you can’t pull” shut up with your googoogaga headass. he also gives the meanest side eyes, don’t play with me.

#x you #x y/n #x reader #kpdh #kpdh x you #kpdh x reader #kpop demon hunters #Kpop demon hunters x reader #saja boys x reader #saja boys x you #rumi x reader #mira x reader #zoey x reader #jinu x reader #abby x reader #mystery x reader #romance x reader #baby saja x reader

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catboybiologist · 3 months ago

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I see you talk a lot about hrt and you seem pretty informed. I also see that you have had really good effects from hrt.

So what I wonder is how much you think it is luck and genetics vs you making the right choices. I can't help but be jealous sometimes. I've had rotten luck and ok genetics it seems.

What's your take on this? Do you think you've been lucky or do you think everyone can do it like you have if they just did it the same way?

So whenever I answer an ask like this, I end up getting spammed with a ton of hrt related questions, and it gets a bit exhausting. So here's my usual disclaimer: I'm not a doctor, nor any kind of medical professional. I'm not an expert on this. I have a little more knowledge about the theory behind hrt than the average person, but not the medical practice. I'm just giving my experiences here.

So I couldn't say for sure, but I think the answer is both? I can't say how much luck is a component, but that said, I think that there's a lot that helped me out just from the troubleshooting end.

This answer ended up being long, so here's a tl;dr:

Be liberal on your estrogen, conservative on your antiandrogen. Eat a lot, exercise a lot.

Huge ramble under the cut.

It's hard to say that I looked feminine pre HRT. I had (and still somewhat have) all of the "ultra masculine" skeletal features that make people think their transition is going to go poorly, but the soft tissue changes have reframed how they look and function. I used to think that I would never come close to looking feminine without super intense FFS, and that feeling is almost completely gone now. So I didn't feel particularly lucky going into any of this. Now I do, and I'm finally actually relaxing how good hrt has been to me.

I did several things that I think accelerated my hrt. Unfortunately, I can't have a control group here. I also operated over a short period of time, during a period where hrt has a variety of effects. I have no way to tell for sure if these things did anything, or if it's all just masked by standard hrt progress, which comes and goes in bursts.

Also note: I don't think anything has dramatically affected my "final" results. I think there's a lot of things that have accelerated my results. But with ongoing, years long processes like HRT, the biggest, key ingredient is PATIENCE. I keep seeing 2 years thrown around like it's the end of hrt progress. This is, quite frankly, ridiculous. 2 years is startup and troubleshooting time. Whatever development happens in the first two years is a bonus, not a normal timeline.

So never, ever feel like you've fucked up your transition for good. You can always tweak it. And, you can always wait.

That all said, here's the bulleted list of the things that I think contributed:

Intensely focusing on getting my blood estrogen high. Stop thinking about dosages, start thinking about levels. From anecdotes I've seen, most doctors will underdose your estradiol. You should be shooting for 200pg/mL minimum. Many doctors will use this as a maximum. That is outdated information. Your estrogen should be on the high side of cis women ranges. If you're lost, use cis women metrics as a guide, or the WPATH. Personally, I've been blessed with a fantastic provider that I've never had to push back to or argue with, but I've heard some nasty horror stories.

Note that achieving the level I said above is often difficult with pills. Pills do have a maximum safe dosage because of liver metabolism. This will vary from person to person. But if you're getting past 8mg oral per day, consider switching to injections, patches, or gels. These methods bypass digestion and (somewhat) dodge the liver, making it easier to safely get higher blood levels. Even if you try to take them sublingually, a lot still ends up consumed orally.

HRT methods that allow for large differences between estrogen highs and lows seem to be more effective than steady state HRT. This is completely shooting in the dark here, but from my vague anecdotes from comparing injections with peaks and troughs to more steady (but still lover bypassing) methods, it still seems like injections are somewhat more effective. That is not a scientific assessment at all. But that's the only explanation I could think of that matches a little bit of what's known about hormonal physiology

With everything above: if possible, drop your antiandrogen ASAP. A pattern I've seen over, and over, and over again, is trans women being overdosed on antiandrogens while simultaneously being underdosed on estradiol itself. Remember: sufficiently high levels of blood estrogen are antiandrogenic on their own. If you need a AA to keep your T or other androgens low, your E is likely too low anyways. There's multiple reasons why having too much androgen suppression without raising estradiol is bad, but for a whirlwind summary, there's two things I would break it down to. One, having too low of both T and E is really bad, and is basically one of the only ways you can do HRT "wrong" in a way that's medically harmful (the other being stressing your liver). It has effects both short term (mood, metabolism, and energy) and long term (bone density and general growth). Also keep in mind that cis women have androgens too- and you need to make sure you're not over suppressing androgens to below cis female levels. Two, antiandrogens are rarely just an antiandrogen. As opposed to hormones themselves, which are found in your body anyways and are "understood" signals for your genes (among other things), antiandrogens are operating based on how we develop their effects as pharmaceuticals. Does this mean they're intrinsically bad? No. Don't fall into a "natural is better" fallacy. However, it's worth noting that AAs can have effects beyond just androgen suppression because they're not an endogenous signalling molecule. One of these effects might be overall suppression of growth and development. That is wildly unconfirmed, I know transfemmescience disagrees and has a pretty thorough breakdown, but unfortunately there's too much variability in individual trans women's HRT regimens to have consistent studies on fine details like that imo. Again, this is my opinion as a patient, not as an expert.

Don't start progesterone too early. I'd say delay it more than the general advice. 6 months after good blood levels is probably good. Notably, it's probably not a good idea to start it 6 months after the first pill crosses your tongue. Wait for the levels. Probably not that big of a deal though.

This last one I'm incredibly reluctant to even talk about, but I've been coming to the conclusion more and more that it was a fairly major factor in my progress. I didn't do it intentionally but it 100% happened. And that is weight cycling. From January to August of 2024, I dropped almost 30 pounds from training for backpacking and actually doing rigorous backpacking for 3 months. I've gained back all of that weight since. Most of my notable soft tissue and appearance changes have happened as a function of putting that weight back on. This isn't just about chest or thigh growth. My face was thin at my lowest weight, and when I put weight back on, soft tissue in my face has grown back in with a far more feminine look. I do NOT like talking about this, though. Why? Because I think deliberately weight cycling is more dangerous and hurtful than it is helpful. Diet culture, counting calories, and constantly comparing your weight and progress to others is an easy way to an easier disorder. If you develop habits centered around those things, that will fuck up your life permanently. What would I recommend instead? High input, high output. Eat a LOT, exercise a LOT. Get into a steady state with that. It's much healthier long term. Remember, at best, weight cycling is an acceleration, not working towards better "permanent" results.

And uh, I think that's it? Again, keep in mind that the main ingredient is patience. All of this is about making things faster, not making things better in the long run. If any of this seems unattainable for you, then don't worry! All you gotta do is wait.

And again, not medical advice, not scientific rigor, just anecdotes and what worked for me.

I don't have a better way to end this other than good luck? And also that you're probably being too hard on yourself anyways.

#trans #mtf hrt

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gothicada · 4 months ago

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ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴀᴄ

first pac for this page!

content will include romance, career, finances and your future of 2025!

paid tarot readings here

THE PILES:

[PILE ONE, PILE TWO AND PILE THREE [LEFT TO RIGHT].

PILE ONE

❦ FUTURE OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {6 OF COINS, THE LOVERS VI, THE SUN XIX, ACE OF WANDS, STILLNESS XII and THE STAR XVII}.

♇ this pile will likely have a really good future, a lot of working, a lot of potential and attention being given, they would be a feeling of balance and gratitude, feeling happy, and even getting into relationships, or feeling more confident, better about yourself, there could be something you achieve, that you won't expect to achieve, and you could feel like your voice and needs are being heard.

♇ you could be gaining attention, intuitively i am hearing people from this pile could be manifesting new beginnings, new opportunities, and you will see them coming your way quickly, specifically since the ace of wands is in this pile. a lot could be going on for these people, but mainly good things, like partying and being around loved ones. people who chose this pile might've felt insecure about not feeling needed but those negative thoughts are likely going to go away. there's 2 sixes in the reading, and when that happens it means something favourable will be coming your way, new people in your life that have pure intentions, and having the ability to relax.

♇ im happy for this pile, because there's pure happiness here, seeing the world differently, instead of seeing the world as half empty, people who have picked this pile will start to see the world as half empty. starting new chapters with less stress and actually believing in yourself, starting over and not looking back, this spread also speaks of being more sexually expressive, trying out new things you havent thought about doing before.

♇ as this is a pile that likely going to start something new, you guys will be starting something new that you wouldnt expect. people who picked this pile will start to see something differently, and even be more happy about life, good things will be coming their way, there could be something you might sacrifice, like a habit, a person or something, but doing this would be for the greater good.

♇ whatever you would be sacrificing, would make you feel like a huge weight would be lifted ff your shoulders, maybe people who picked this pile would be letting go of a friend that was draining, but it's likely something you were supposed to be doing moments ago, and you could be stepping into something that aids you to express your creative side, whether it be drawing, singing acting or anything make-up/fashion oriented, you will be happy.

shuffled songs ⟶ [lovin you by minnie riperton, bonbon by era istrefi and ouragan by mattyeux featuring videoclub].

❦ ROMANCE OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Six of Cups, THE CHARIOT VII, Eight of Swords, King of Coins, Four of Swords and Nine of Cups}.

♇ overall, the romantic life will be sweet, could be getting into a relationship with someone who makes you feel warm and protected, a bond where the two of you would be very understanding with each other, a lot of yearning going on between both sides, but the six of cups and the chariot does imply that it could be someone you've spoken to before, or someone who might remind you of the past. [the chariot is ruled by cancer/moon].

♇ some people who have picked this pile could be in long-lasting situationships, connections you can easily get yourself out of, but you're stubborn to let go because of the past and memories you made with such person. people who have picked this pile might have a negative outlook in their romantic love life, could think they're not loveable but even though this can sound cliche, this could be happening because you're actually not putting yourself out there.

♇ because the people who picked this pile actually have so much potential to be in a good relationship, but if you are someone who has the potential to get into a relationship, whoever you will get with could be really scared of losing you, they could be the type to do anything to keep you close to them, though with the lack of wands here, they're likely lowkey about it, but they'll show it through little things, like urging you to stay, be with them all the time etc.

♇ if you are someone who could be going through complications because of a relationship, i do see the likelihood of everything calming down. even though the four of swords can speak of stress, it usually changes wherever it is beside, because it is between the king of coins and the nine of cups, i see a sense of relax, if you are someone who could be getting a significant other, this person would be very calming, will know what you like, what makes you tick etc.

♇ you will be feeling comfortable, and could even be indulging in sex, self-pleasure if you remain single. what im seeing for this pile, is that no matter what happens in the end you'll be okay, because you will be emotionally fulfilled with, or without a partner, and you will feel pretty and look beautiful! if you do get with someone, it's likely someone who is successful/very attractive.

shuffled songs ⟶ [bitch by allie x, washing machine heart by mitski and oxygene by fally ipupa].

❦ OCCUPATION OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {JUDGEMENT XX, ARES IV, JUSTICE XI, Ten of Cups, THE FATES X and DEATH XIII}.

♇ interesting spread, people who have picked this pile would be doing really well. a big transformation happening to these people, i do think whatever you are doing you would be an inspiration to those around you, they would be learning from you, adoring you, and if this is about school, you could be doing really great. you could be finding a calling, one you didnt expect, but it'll come to you.

♇ whatever occupation you are doing will lead you to much success, you could be someone who might have a guide, or you will be the guide as i have insinuated in the last paragraph, but whatever you will be doing will bring you happiness. you wouldnt expect this, especially with death being at the end, and this doesnt mean it's a bad thing, it'll just be totally different to what you are used to now, so it might take you some time to get used to.

♇ the occupation you get yourself into will make you feel belonged, because your thoughts/ideas would be things people would take seriously. you will be able to provide for yourself, but i do warn you to handle your finances with logic and practicality, even if you will likely get good finances, do be aware with how you manage your excitement with your money.

♇ if you are someone who is struggling, there's a big chance this occupation will get you back to your feet, if you are someone who is working at a job, you would likely get a raise, something unexpected but good will happen for you, and it's something that was always supposed to happen, there are some cards here that likely scares other people, but many of the end outcomes will be good, trust me. there's 2 tens in the reading and this usually means that there can be and ending but it'll open to a new good beginning, you'll see that everything happens is for the best. there's also 2 zeros here and it speaks of countless possibilities.

♇ and i know the death card here is really scary, but it strengthens my idea of a new beginning happening for these people, something that'll make you happy and understand that you should allow life to handle itself, it'll teach these people that you shouldnt force things to go one way because it'll disrupt the process. there's also a lot of 1 numerology here and this is another beacon of a new beginning, be happy for yourself pile 1! :)

shuffled songs ⟶ [show me how by men i trust, say yes to heaven by lana del rey and save your tears by the weeknd featuring ariana grande].

PILE TWO

❦ FUTURE OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Four of Wands, Five of Swords, Five of Wands, THE FATES X, Ten of Coins and Queen of Wands}.

♇ well, you are in for a ride pile two, but in the end everything will work out for you guys. there could be complications happening with the family, someone spiteful, or you being upset about something, or a relative just bringing issues that causes chaos. you could be someone who might have a bad experience with someone, but for this pile i am feeling it could be a cousin/family? someone who might get away with many things because people are used to their behaviour.

♇ not a really good spread in the beginning, but everything will be just fine, as the end does have the ten of coins and the queen of wands. but this pile can be competing for something? having to prove yourself to someone, to a bunch of people, so you can get accepted for a status/role? if this is not a conflict you already know is happening, then it is likely someone randomly expressing their anger towards something that they have bottled up for a moment, could be you.

♇ you would feel like you are continuously going through ups and downs, you don't know what the week would have in store for you because it feels like it wants to whoop you, but i think the conflict that would be happening would be conflict you might have been stalling for a long time, so it was bound to happen. some of these people who have chosen this pile might find it hard letting go of people. there are 2 fives here, and when that happens it usually means conflict and having the themes of getting rid of instability and accepting change.

♇ though when all of that shit is done and dusted, you will feel relieved and released and happy to accept that positive change that wants to make way into your life. even if the ten of wands is not here i see the likelihood of prior challenges then you receiving a glow up because of it. whether it be glow up with your personality or looks, either way you will be feeling good about yourself :).

♇ like when this is all over, you would be feeling like you are the hottest shit in town, as i said in the previous paragraph, glow up of the century. and you could find yourself speaking to a woman in your family more, perhaps they're someone who had conflict with the family and they would be telling their side of the story? its very specific, but either way, there'll be a woman in your life that'll be very important.

shuffled songs ⟶ [under your spell by snow strippers, your face by wisp and sour switchblade by elita].

❦ ROMANCE OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Queen of Wands, Princess of Coins, Seven of Cups in RX, King of Cups, King of Wands and Priestess of Coins}.

♇ well, romance would definitely be something for you guys, but you would appreciate the life lessons it'll give you. i do think the people who picked this pile would likely get into a connection with somebody, something very intense and passionate with someone, and it could be someone you go to work/school with.

♇ this connection could get very obsessive, both sides would be addicted to each other, and it'll be hard to hide it. someone could be obsessed with divination and could do readings on the said party or the energy of the bond. but this can also mean someone could be looking over signs and repeating symbols.

♇ there's an indicatory of immaturity, but it could be due to the queen of wands energy. this bond could be a missed opportunity, and it could imply you could have 2 options because of the king of cups and wands. even though both parties would be obsessed with each other, someone would be thinking from their emotions less than their logic/mind. and this can be both people because there's no swords here.

♇ whoever this person is, they would likely be more rational, but the king of cups being here does imply they would be acting based on their emotions. queen and king of wands being in the same spread, the two of you would be able to match each other's energies. and the other person wouldnt be able to handle it, so they might want to do things to prove you dont have power over them, in which you do.

♇ when it comes to people they care about, they're someone who is patient and protective, and you'll see that side coming out often when you're around them more. there's 2 kings in the reading, this is someone you likely work with, and the 2 kings do symbolise the fact that either way, they would be the more mature person within the connection, and there's many court cards here, which shows much people would be involved in this mix. he said she said.

shuffled songs ⟶ [turn me on by kevin lyttle, fresh laundry by allie x and boy's a liar pt. 2 by pinkpantheress featuring ice spice].

❦ OCCUPATION OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Nine of Coins, Three of Coins, Seven of Cups , King of Wands, Queen of Wands and Ten of Cups}.

♇ whoever picked this part of the pile, lucky you! you will be comfortable with what you're going to be doing, and with the nine of coins and two other court cards king and queen of wands, you can be someone who is self-employed? and your business is likely going to be buzzing, speaking with more people and marketing yourself and people being easily pulled by you and your content.

♇ if you're not someone who has a job but goes to school, there's great indicator of everything going well for you, but remember to always stay in track. you would feel a creative side of yourself come out more, and you might even collaborate with other people, but i do think the majority who have picked this pile would likely have people reach out to them to join or to get advice.

♇ i'm hearing the status "hot shit" like whatever you're doing, you're going to be popping and your reputation will get higher. if you're someone who is looking for a job, this spread heavily implies you'll get a good career. you could be taking the lead for something, and this could put stress on your shoulders but the ten of cups at the end indicates that you'll be good anyways.

♇ this is a really great spread, because i do think you would be getting so much attention, and it could be over-whelming [with the seven of cups] but it'll be something you would get used to, almost as if you were made for it. you would feel more beautiful and appreciated in your occupation and with the three of coins, this shows that other people would be speaking about your creation/what you have done to others.

♇ for this spread, it's like a wish come true, being in an industry you always saw yourself to get into and accomplishing and making a name for yourself very quickly. howbeit, with the coins in the beginning of the spread, it could insinuate some people might've been in their occupation for a brief moment, but the progress was comfortable either way. you will feel like you've made yourself proud.

shuffled songs ⟶ [when you feel lonely by mavado, the box by roddy ricch and get lucky by daft punk, pharrell williams and nile rodgers].

PILE THREE

❦ FUTURE OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Ten of Cups, TEMPERANCE XIV, Princess of Coins, Ace of Swords, Nine of Swords and THE HIEROPHANT V IN REVERSE}.

♇ the future for this reading is likely very good but there'll be some hiccups but i think it'll be fine overall. you will feel balanced and you will be attempting to balance your schedules, specifically things you're going to learn. you could enter a course or learn something new you could be very serious about and you might consider it to be something that could aid you to get your life on track.

♇ and i do see the possibility of people here wanting to right their wrongs, manifestation happening and learning how to be patient. but people who picked this pile could be people who are having to learn how to handle time and being patient. majority of the people who have picked this pile could be students and they could be anxious about something but this implies that the worries you have could be easily handled.

♇ you could be gaining more information about something and i know this has been implied in the previous two paragraphs but it is very strong in this spread that a form of knowledge will be coming whether it be about education or about secrets, but i do see the possibility of it being secrets, something that might throw you off and worry. the people who pick this pile will be going through a lot mental wise and that could be one of the things you would be wanting to balance.

♇ you could end up being a subject of gossip and there could be something that just ends for you, whether it be friendship, education or a hobby. but there is potential of the spread telling you that over-thinking could lead you to self destruction. believe in yourself! you could also be planning to do something that is authentic/different to the people around you and you could be worried about how other people might see it.

♇ i do see you doing something you might not supposed to be doing, but this spread could be warning you to not do something immoral. try and always remember who you are, people who picked this pile likely has the possibility of spiraling the most and even finding it hard to remember themselves. on the other hand, this can manifest into you becoming someone you truly are and having to learn not to care how other people would perceive you.

shuffled songs ⟶ [k. by cigarettes after sex, waking up in vegas by katy perry and mysterious girl by peter andre].

❦ ROMANCE OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Ten of Swords, Two of Swords, Seven of Cups, Three of Swords, Princess of Coins and Four of Cups}.

♇ wow. so, good luck to whoever chose this pile. people who picked this pile are likely the people who are the heart-breaker or they would be the person who is heart-broken. treating people with kindness is a very big theme for this reading, and i do think whoever picked this pile are likely on their last straw when it comes to their romantic love life, you guys can be people who were heart-broken in the past so you have a hard time opening up to yourself to new people.

♇ people who choose this pile likely have many options, three cards imply that, two of swords, seven of cups and the four of cups. but these people likely dont want to take a leap because fear is a huge indicator here, or people who have picked this pile will be people who do not want to get into a proper relationship yet and could be looking for a fling, whereas the other party will be upset that they're truly not opening themselves to be loved.

♇ on the other hand, this spread can be advise to not allow your delusions to come up with the most delusional outcomes. there can be someone in your life that you could want, you might put them on a pedestal, but when it comes to romantic connections the person might lack and even be speaking to other people. if you are someone who is already in a romantic connection with somebody there's a high chance of conflict happening. rude words being thrown across and cold shoulders.

♇ and i think because of how hectic things will go for people, they might turn to things that isnt about romance, like becoming a better version of themselves, studious, or someone who is more perceptive about types of people who want to return to their lives. howbeit, this spread can also be for the people who are obsessive, wanting to seek out a specific result because you WANT and YEARN for something to happen, but im sorry it is just not the case for you guys.

♇ there's a lot of dissatisfied feelings here, yearning, wanting more. doing countless tarot readings on an event or on someone. you could also be giving so much love to other people but you're not receiving the same energy back, this spread implies that you are likely giving it to the wrong people. you need to value yourself and go to spaces where you are seen and valued.

shuffled songs ⟶ [with me by dvsn, christian woman by type o negative and amber by 311].

❦ OCCUPATION OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {King of wands, Princess of Swords THE BIRTH 0, JUDGEMENT XXI, THE WORLD XXII and THE HERMIT IX}.

♇ when it comes to career, people who picked this pile have such great potential of starting something where you're intellect and precision will be a big tool. people who picked this pile will be taking charge and feeling more bold about the opportunities they have, there's much mental stimulation going on and this could be because you would be given a new project or you would be someone who would be opening a side business, or could think about opening one.

♇ this could also mean that if you are someone who is signing up for a job, there is likely going to be other people competing for the spot you want. yet intuitively, i am getting to 75%-95% of people who picked this pile will be getting the spot they want, and they would be able to make a space for themselves to fall back financially that'll make them comfortable.

♇ people who chose pile three will finally be following their instincts, taking a leap and a chance to believe in themselves finally. and i believe that people who take a risk have good judgement because they would finally be accepting that their life is in their hands and time is their best friend. there's much communicative energy going on, it implies that there's much marketing yourself going on.

♇ these people who picked this pile will be going through a wake up call, it could involve them finally realising what they're supposed to do with their lives. [the hermit is also in this spread and it pinpoints that there would be people who would second guess themselves]. howbeit, this reading shows that people here would finally find their calling and it would bring them much joy.

♇ on the other hand, there could be people who picked this pile who are likely people pleasers. they would be happy that they've finally found their calling, but they could have this pressure of "realising" that other people would not like their career, that people around them expect them to do something different. though, the hermit in this reading shows that this life is yours and should not be in the hand of others. plus there's 2 two's here [JUDGEMENT 20 and THE WORLD 21]. and this hints towards a partnership where both energies are balanced and both parties will be bringing out confidence within that'll aid to a positive outcome

shuffled songs ⟶ [alejandro by lady gaga, god complex by violent vira and turn it up by pinkpantheress].

paid tarot readings here

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hatussy · 3 months ago

Text

starving | j.a

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader warnings: smut, nsfw [18+ only], touch starved!jack, loneliness, slight sub!jack, clingy!jack, call girl!reader, male moans/whimpering, dry humping, making out like handsy/horny teenagers, jack's a mess and makes a mess of you, cowgirl, jack begs, dirty talk, desperation, squirting, word count: 5585

summary: in which jack's loneliness causes him to reach out to someone he's surprised is very understanding

author's note: further continuation of this piece. i took so long to write this because i didn't want it to be rushed. i wanted to do his character justice and i hope i achieved that. i hope y'all enjoy

oneshot | masterlist

It started with a phone call, like always. New clients had to be screened, they had to form a working relationship with you.

You’d had your fair share of sketchy clients. Some who had tried to push you past your limits, others refusing to pay. You’d made a new rule that they always had to pay half upfront, and show they had the rest of the cash on them when you met them. If they wanted to extend the booking, they had that option, but the charge always varied depending on what they wanted to do.

Some wanted to cuddle, engaging in pillow talk. Some wanted to prove they could make you finish again, if only to gloat. Some simply wanted the time to shower together, helping you to clean up.

Nothing was ever free.

There was one client you had who simply liked to talk. The company of watching a movie together, of talking about his day.

Needless to say, Jack had become one of your favourite clients. You looked forward to his texts, asking for your availability. You always made sure to get a nice hotel. Somewhere with a comfy sofa, a huge bed, and a spectacular view.

Jack always praised the view.

At first, you’d assumed it was a compliment for you. He’d said it while staring out the window, watching the sun set over the city. Still, he’d looked at you—looked through you—in order to stand in front of the window.

You stood alongside him. Muttering something about the city and the night, the peace it brought you, and the smile that had tugged the corners of his mouth had been worth it.

One of the first things you’d noticed about Jack was that he wore a wedding band. Most of your clients weren’t as obvious with their cheating, opting to take it off, but the tan line was still there. Jack had seen you staring. Hell, he saw everything you did. He was always watching, always paying attention. He hadn’t mentioned it, but you had.

“She passed away a few years ago,” he had confessed quietly, voice thick and gravelly like he wasn’t used to talking about her. “Can’t bring myself to take it off.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” you had assured him softly.

Something about him told you everything you needed to know. The faraway look to his eyes, the weight he carried on his shoulders. From the initial phone call, you hadn’t been sure what to make of him. Now that he was in front of you, it looked like he needed a friend more than anything else. So you’d suggested a movie, something easy to watch, and he’d joined you on the bed.

Jack had sat upright for most of the movie, and you’d made yourself comfortable lying beside him. Head near his lap, his hand aimlessly playing with your hair—like it was muscle memory. His fingertips had scratched your scalp and you’d sighed, enjoying the feeling. The comfort. The familiarity.

Over the next few months, your meetings had been much the same. Sometimes he made a few comments, thinly veiled jokes to break the tension. Most of the time, he preferred the quiet. Knowing someone was there with him when he was stuck in his head.

You never pushed for him to talk. Never made him feel guilty for needing a friend to sit with him, even if that friend was being paid to spend time with him.

You enjoyed it. The break from the norm. The ease you settled into once he picked a movie to watch.

One time he brought dinner. Something he’d made earlier in the day. He’d been chatty that day, something you noticed he did when he didn’t know how to process what was going on in his head.

“It’s her birthday,” he’d told you. The weight of his words, the anxious fiddling with his wedding band, the meal. It all made sense.

He’d watched you pick up the phone to call room service. You’d ordered a bottle of bubbles with three glasses, as well as three slices of cake. You did it so effortlessly that he got a little choked up. No hesitation, no awkwardness, just a patient understanding. Acknowledging the woman he was still in love with, with grace and poise.

He’d seen you in a new light that day. Over the toast you’d made to his wife, and the care you’d shown him. The understanding that grief was a process. Healing was a process. That you saw him as a friend, not just a client.

Jack started to talk a little more with each meeting. About his day—you’d learned he was a doctor. About his wife—his smile was always a little brighter each time. About your day—you tried not to reveal too much, but talking to him was easy. He didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. Didn’t push for details like some men did. He let you tell him what you were comfortable revealing.

Hell, you’d even told him how you got into your line of work. He’d never passed judgement, or made you feel like you deserved better. He never suggested a change in career, but you’d told him you were taking classes and hoped one day to become a licensed child psychologist.

“You’d be good at that,” he’d said with a smile. “There’s something about you that puts me at ease. That’s not an easy thing. Those kids would thrive with your guidance.”

“You really think so?” You’d asked.

“I do.”

There was no doubt in his voice. It was firm, assertive, reassuring. Something you’d needed to hear but didn’t know how to go about getting it. And the fact that it came from Jack meant a lot more than you were willing to admit.

Your body ached as you lowered yourself into the bath, iPad sitting on the tray hooked over the sides, along with a large glass of wine and some snacks. You pressed play on the screen, the intro to your comfort show starting within seconds.

You didn’t have much time for simple pleasures these days, so you basked in the opportunity. Bubble mixture and rose oil added to the tub, the hot water soaking your aching muscles. The wine going down a treat, and the snacks curbing your hunger.

The second episode had just started when you got a message from Jack.

I know this is late notice, but can I see you tomorrow morning when I finish my shift? I need something to look forward to.

I don’t have anywhere booked. Is a café okay?

You’re comfortable with that?

Absolutely, are you?

I finish at 7am. Will you find us someplace nice?

I’ll have coffee and breakfast waiting for you.

You sent him the name of the café you liked to frequent. You knew he worked at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital, and it was only two blocks away. It was also nearby your campus, and you had two classes tomorrow with the first one starting at 10. You didn’t think meeting Jack would be that long, but you’d at least be able to get some study done for a paper you had due.

The bath worked wonders. You felt relaxed, a little tipsy, and had something to look forward to in the morning. Setting an alarm for six, to give yourself enough time to get ready and pack your study bag.

By the time the morning came around, your alarm pulled you from your sleep, and you made an effort while getting ready. A little touch of makeup to feel put together, hair styled just the way you liked, and a comfy coat that tied your outfit together. You packed your bag, and then you were off. Making your way to the cafe with a few minutes to spare, knowing Jack sill hadn’t finished work yet, but that he would be there shortly.

Coffee and food was ordered, and you took up a seat at a comfortable little table near the back. Grabbing your phone to see if there were any new messages from Jack, and being delighted to see a text he’d sent half an hour ago.

Might be a little late. Had a rough night. Looking forward to seeing you.

Take your time, I’ll see you when I see you.

You sipped your coffee when it arrived, having put a hold on the food for the time being. Waiting until Jack said he was officially on his way to the cafe before you asked the staff to start on breakfast.

Jack walked through the doors a couple of minutes later, backpack hanging off one shoulder, still dressed in his dark scrubs from the hospital. He wore a soft smile when he saw you, one you easily reciprocated.

“Hey,” he greeted easily, looking like the night had tested him one too many times. Still, he dropped his bag to the floor and took a seat opposite you.

“Hey,” you replied. “You’ve looked better.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled. “Thanks for meeting me, I know you don’t do this.”

“I had time,” you said simply. “You need a friend or a therapist today?”

Jack exhaled heavily, shifting in his seat and reaching for his coffee. “Neither. Both. I don’t know.”

You nodded sympathetically. “Do you want to talk?”

“Not about me,” he admitted.

“You can be my sounding board for my research presentation later this week,” you decided, pulling your iPad out to flick through your notes.

Jack looked more settled opposite you, and thanked the waitress for your meals. You gave her a polite smile, picking at a tomato before wasting no time starting your speech.

You showed different graphs on slides to reiterate your point. Every now and then, Jack gestured to your plate, prompting you to pause and eat, but otherwise listened completely. He nodded along with facts and statistics, asked the odd question to continue along with your line of reasoning.

When you were finished with your speech, he clapped politely, a smile gracing his face.

“Any pointers?”

“Look more at whoever you’re giving the speech to,” he said. “Otherwise it was very good.”

You grinned as you packed your iPad away, reaching for your coffee and finishing it. Jack gestured to the empty mug.

“Another?”

“Please.”

The remainder of your omelette had grown cold, but it was still good. When Jack rejoined you, you were finishing up your last bite.

“So,” you started. “Bad night, huh?”

Jack sighed, scraping at the dusting off stubble along his jaw. “Yeah, something like that,” he agreed with a half-smile.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly.

“Yes.”

“Don’t lie to me,” you replied, giving him a pointed look.

He sighed. “No. We lost a vet. Young guy, did two tours overseas no problem, then gets hit by a drunk driver when he comes home. Just…hit a little too close to home.”

You nodded. He hadn’t told you much of his time with the army, but you knew that he had a history serving.

“Shit,” you cursed. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been pretty early in your shift?”

Jack nodded. “Spent a few hours trying to contact the family. Eventually got in touch with his sister. It’s just…the worst news to receive over the phone, you know? It’s supposed to be done in person, but she won’t arrive until later today.”

“Will you be going back to speak to her?”

Jack shook his head. “I wrote a letter instead. Gave it to the dayshift to read on my behalf. That’s why I was running late; contemplating life and existence from the roof of the hospital.”

“Just don’t jump, yeah?”

He cracked a smile at that. “Would be rude, wouldn’t it?”

“That, and I don’t really have time in my schedule for a funeral,” you said, earning a genuine laugh.

“Robby said something similar.” He wore a smile. “Dayshift attending.”

“A friend?”

“A brother.”

“I’m glad you have someone who gets it,” you told him. “Thank you,” you said to the waitress who brought your coffees over. “How’s everything else going? I haven’t seen you in a minute.”

“Yeah,” he exhaled. “It’s been a bit existential.”

You didn’t say anything, giving him the time to decide if he wanted to. Instead, you sipped your coffee and watched him spin his in the saucer.

“Had a breakthrough with my therapist,” he said. “I guess I’ve been a little caught up in it.”

“You’re allowed to be,” you replied. “You look tired, Jack. Are you getting enough sleep?”

“Just a crazy shift, is all,” he told you. “I’ll go home and sleep soon.”

“Good.” You smiled.

“Are you free tonight?”

“For you, I can be.”

There was a slight tinge of colour that blossomed on Jack’s cheeks. “If you already have plans, I get it.”

“Jack, I don’t have any plans,” you assured him. “Go home, get some sleep. I’ll book the usual room, but I’m not watching Mission Impossible again.”

“Understood,” he said, chuckling softly.

Your day had been busy. Between your two classes, you’d attempted to record your presentation to see how long it actually was. You’d done some shopping for this evening, a little care package you’d decided to put together for Jack.

It was what friends did, right? Something nice for each other when someone was feeling down?

You hoped he’d appreciate it. Some nice skincare products, nothing too extraneous. Something soothing, for the days his leg hurt. Something hydrating, for the excessive hand-sanitising he does working at the hospital. Some nice chocolates from the bougie shop in town, since you knew he had a sweet tooth. A knife, because you could never have too many. Lastly, a set of cotton pyjamas. Something soft that wouldn’t irritate him, or get too hot in the warmer months.

The basket sat on the bed of the hotel, all ready to give to him when he arrived, as you watched the news, waiting to hear back from Jack. He’d gone back to the hospital, despite it being his day off, to help with the shooting that the news was reporting. Several casualties had already been reported, with a lot of critical patients being routed to PTMC.

From the coverage you knew it was bad. You knew he was doing the right thing by going in to help. His friends, his colleagues, would need the extra set of hands.

So you waited anxiously, already a glass of wine deep amidst the devastation being reported, and hoped everyone who made it to the hospital survived.

Sorry to make you wait. Have you eaten? I’ll grab something. On my way.

Food is a good idea, grab anything you feel like. In our usual room. Did you think of a movie to watch?

No, but I need something lighthearted or funny. Your choice. I’ll see you soon.

The School of Rock was waiting for you to press play by the time Jack arrived. For the second time today, he looked exhausted, and was still dressed in his dark scrubs.

Surprisingly, he brought you in for a hug, holding you tightly, as if he needed to know you were real. You rested your head against his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. Not thinking twice about the unexpected hug, or that he took a few shaky breaths.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, only pulling back when he did. You didn’t notice he’d been balancing a pizza box in one hand, too wrapped up in the hug to register it. “Come in.”

Jack excused himself to the bathroom. He left the door open, splashing some water on his face, while you sat back on the bed and flipped the pizza box open. You were halfway through a slice when he joined you, dropping his backpack by the door and taking his shoes off.

“Got you something,” you told him, gesturing to the basket you’d moved to the desk under the tv. Jack turned his attention to it, pulling it towards him. “Felt like you needed a pick me up, and that was before you went back into work.”

He chuckled softly. “Are those pyjamas?”

“Yeah. It was that or a teddy bear with some corny phrase embroidered onto the stomach,” you replied, earning another laugh. “You can shower if you want…change into them?”

“Later,” he promised, the smile still on his face. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

He doesn’t judge the movie you picked. In fact, he’s grateful for the choice. Settling in beside you on the bed, the pizza box between you. Slices slowly disappeared while it was still hot, and silence washed over you as the movie played.

Jack shuffled around to move the near-empty box, and you watched him remove his prosthetic and massage the stump as if it pained him. Brows drawn together, eyes closed, as if he did this all the time.

Of course, it was the first time he’d done it in front of you.

You reached for his free hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, it—”

“Leave it off,” you told him. “If it’s bothering you, leave it off.”

He stared like he wasn’t sure what to make of you. Like he was in over his head. Out of his depth. And maybe he was, just a little bit. It was you, after all. Always understanding. Always supportive, never judgemental.

Maybe he did see you differently. Maybe the months of friendship had caused something to build—something real. He certainly felt like it, but the nagging voice in his head told him this was your job. That he was only a client to you.

He hadn’t seen you for two months because the last meeting you’d had, you’d refused to take his money.

“We’re friends, Jack. Friends don’t charge each other for their time,” you’d told him.

There’d been no mention of money this morning. No talk of what tonight would cost him. You were throwing him off his rhythm. He felt uneasy, but not in a bad way. In a way that had his heart rate spike whenever he thought of you.

The same way he felt when he first met his late wife.

Jack swallowed thickly, trying to overcome the lump in his throat. “Okay.”

You smiled that sweet smile and patted the spot on the bed next to him. The spot that he shuffled towards, leaving no space between you. And still, you moved his arm to drape it around your shoulders, hand settling on his thigh, just above his knee.

His pulse thundered in his ears, and he was looking at you. Still. Like you might disappear in front of him at any second. Like this was easy for you, comfortable, and yet you weren’t anywhere near as nervous as he was.

Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe it had been too long since he’d held another person, that he was seeing signs that weren’t there.

The thoughtful gift—he was a client after all. Maybe you did that for everyone when they were having a tough time of it.

The ease you displayed physical affection—again, maybe he was still only a client to you. Maybe this was all just part of the services you offered.

Jack was tense. He felt like he couldn’t relax, couldn’t enjoy this for what it was. His brain was telling him to be reasonable, to not make this a bigger thing than it was, but his gut told him to take the leap. Even if it didn’t pay off, he would then have a definitive answer.

The tapping on his leg was distracting, but it was working. You knew what he needed and did something to distract him. To pull him back to the present after getting lost in his head.

“Is that Morse code telling me to breathe?”

Jack’s bewilderment was genuine and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Yeah. Figured talking might spook you,” you replied. “You went all tense and stopped breathing for a second.”

“Really? Sorry,” he replied, making a point to exhale loudly. “Army brat?”

You hummed. “High school wasn’t challenging enough, so I taught myself to read braille and communicate in Morse code.”

“Nerd,” he commented, earning a small laugh.

“Shut up and watch the movie,” you muttered, playfully pinching his leg.

You saw his smile soften in the corner of your eye, but he didn’t immediately turn back to the tv. You tapped out w-e-i-r-d-o on his leg, only for him to tap back on your shoulder I-k-n-o-w.

He only turned his attention back to the tv when you smiled, resting your head on his shoulder, his fingers trailing aimlessly up and down your arm. It was comfortable. It felt good—natural. It made him feel warm inside. And that wasn’t something that happened often, so he allowed himself to enjoy it, if only for a moment.

Jack’s hand found its way to your head, fingertips lightly scratching at your scalp.

“Keep doing that and I’ll start panting,” you mumbled. “It feels good.”

He hummed, making no sign of stopping. You sighed softly, contently, and snuggled a little closer to him. Hand flexing against his leg as you shifted.

He smiled at you cuddled into his side, and was pressing a kiss to the top of your head like he did it all the time.

“You always smell so good,” he spoke softly, resisting the urge to take a huge, obvious whiff.

“You smell like hospital.”

“What’s that smell like?”

“Sanitizer. And sandalwood, but I think that’s just your cologne.”

He tucked his chin, sniffing his chest. “That’s sandalwood?”

“That’s delicious,” you replied with a laugh.

“Delicious, huh?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you tsk’d, fighting back a smile.

Jack hummed. “Too late.”

He was tapping out a message on your arm before he lost the nerve.

I-w-a-n-t-2-k-i-s-s-u

You were turning to look at him before he finished his message, hand cupping his cheek and turning his head towards yours. Your gaze dropped to his lips, gasping as he cupped the back of your head and met your lips with his own.

There was an urgency to his kiss, a desperation that leached into you. Your hand on his thigh gripped it a little tighter, your eyes closing at the rush that washed over you. The relief.

You twisted a little more, trying to get a little more comfortable. Swinging your leg over his waist, his hand settled on your hip, aiding your movement as you straddled him.

He groaned appreciatively, sinking deeper into the kiss. Into you, like you were a lifeline. You gasped as he tugged your hair, a sultry moan rumbling in your chest. His lips turned up, smiling against yours, only for him to gasp as you rolled your hips.

Wicked, he thought. Struggling to gain composure as you did it again, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Fuck,” he cursed, parting his lips so his tongue could meet your own.

You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had kissed you like this. Like the tension had built so much—grown so hot—that you felt frantic. Kissing Jack was as thrilling as you thought it would be. The way he cupped your head, tugged your hair. The way he gripped your hip, fingertips digging into your flesh as he guided your movements.

And he was just as into it as you were, his erection pressing against your core, straining against his scrubs.

You wanted him to be the one to initiate things further. He hadn’t mentioned any specifics, but from how raw his grief was about losing his wife, you assumed this was the first time he was even kissing another woman. You didn’t want to do anything to spook him—he deserved to be comfortable—to not be pushed, even if your body was begging your brain not to listen to itself.

“I want this to last,” Jack mumbled. “Fuck, it won’t if you keep this up.”

You giggled, cupping his face as you kissed him slowly. “We have all night, Jack.”

You slowly, deliberately, rolled your hips, watching his eyes screw shut as he groaned. Both hands settled on your hips, anchoring you in place, stopping your oh-so-sweet torture.

“God, you’re the devil,” he said breathily.

You hummed, sliding your hands down his chest until you were tugging at the hem of your own shirt. You were more than comfortable being the only one naked—or semi-naked. Jack watched with hooked eyes and bated breath as you pulled the material over your head, throwing it somewhere across the room.

You’d find it later, or you wouldn’t. Maybe Jack would take it home as an excuse to see you again. That thought made you almost giddy.

Jack moaned your name, hands skimming up your sides. Thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts.

“Jack.” You sounded desperate even to yourself, but he looked at you so hungrily, so ready to devour, that you lost your train of thought.

“Say my name again,” he pleaded.

You slowly rocked your hips, placing your hands on his and moving them to cup your breasts. “Jack,” you repeated, feeling your nipples harden under his palms. He looked like he was going to pass out, fingers squeezing your breasts, head dipping to capture a nipple in his mouth. “Oh, fuck. Jack.”

He growled lowly, the vibration sending shivers to your core. You stilled, legs squeezing either side of his waist, hands flying to his hair to tug it as his teeth grazed your nipple.

You hissed as he lightly bit down, back arching your chest further towards him. He closed his eyes and hummed, lightly raking his nails down your back. You shivered, skin prickling at the sensation.

Jack smiled as you tugged his shirt, hitching up the black scrub tee, as well as his pale undershirt. Your fingers trailed over his abdomen, his lips seeking yours once more as you worked his shirts higher. Jack groaned, briefly breaking the kiss to tear the shirts over his head.

His chest was spotted with freckles, a mixture of dark and light. You trailed your fingers over his collarbones, fingertips tickled by the hair covering his pecs. He leant back against the pillows, watching you curiously explore every protrusion, every defect. Evidence of his time in the military was more than just the prosthetic leg, but also the shrapnel scars and muscles.

God, he was magnificent—so fucking beautiful.

Your breath hitched as you felt his hips flex, cock straining desperately against his scrubs.

“Tell me what you want, Jack.”

It was a simple request, yet one you weren’t sure was going to be answered. You thought for sure this was all that would happen, that his mind would win out and put a stop to this. You desperately didn’t want that to happen, but the ball was in his court—it had to be.

Jack’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, trying to process your words. Your hands settled around his head, fingers twirling his hair, scratching his scalp.

“You,” he eventually breathed out, like he was afraid of his own answer. “I want you.”

He sought your lips, slower this time—more calculated, like he wasn’t afraid to want. The desire still burned beneath your skin, one that was more intense, yet every bit as frantic—as dangerous.

The temperature in the room felt like it had been dialled right up. Perspiration dotted at your temples, Jack’s body just as hot beneath your touch. You rocked your hips slowly, gasping as he pinched one of your nipples, his hips rocking up to meet yours.

“Jack.”

Sinful, that was the only way Jack could describe it. The way you touched him, the way you kissed him. God, he was in over his head and about to cum in his pants like a starving teenaged boy.

“Don’t leave,” he pleaded, watching you put distance between the two of you.

“I’m not,” you assured him, taking a second to tenderly cup his cheek. “I’m getting a condom.”

Jack felt stupid, laughing deliriously as you grabbed a condom from your bag. His chest rose and fell heavily, watching your tits sway with each step. How they hung when you bent over, and how good your ass looked in your pants.

The foil packet was taunting him as you walked back to the bed. His cock strained agonisingly against his pants, desperate for relief. He lazily palmed himself, watching your eyes drop to his lap.

You bit your lip and he groaned as he watched you tuck your thumbs into the side of your pants, slowly wiggling them down your body.

“You’re killing me,” he panted.

Jack watched you crawl towards him on the bed, hand roughly squeezing his cock as he took in your soft, supple body. Each dip, each mark, all signs of a life lived.

You reached for his pants, untying the drawstring that kept them cinched tight at his waist. Jack exhaled heavily through his nose, watching your face for any sign of hesitation. Any sign that this wasn’t something you wanted.

He didn’t see it.

He felt your soft touch ghosting over his pelvic bone. He lifted his hips, helping you remove his pants, before he was pulling you into his lap again. You grinned as you straddled his waist, nothing between you now as you rolled your hips.

Jack was a goner. The heat of your cunt wrapped around him, the way you kissed along his jaw. His fingers flexed against your waist, digging into your flesh, as your arousal coated his hard length.

“Fucking hell,” he cursed lowly, desperately trying to gain some self-control. He felt way too close to the edge, too far gone, but you were everywhere. You were everything. “Please.”

“Please what, Jack?” You asked softly, nipping at his ear. You hummed as he gripped your hips a little tighter, an arm snaking around your lower back and holding you still. Body flush against his own.

“I need you.”

His voice sounded foreign to him. So husky, so distraught, so wildly aroused, but you looked exactly how he felt. Horny, needy, desperate. God, and here you were, sitting in his lap, bare pussy sliding against his cock, and he couldn't think—couldn’t breathe.

Your lips found his, frantic. Teeth clashing, mouths bruising, tongues tasting like there was no time left. Like this was the pinnacle—the crux—his be all or end all.

You fumbled with the foil wrapper, Jack’s arm snaking around your waist to keep you still–pinned against him.

“God, listen to you,” he said. “So fucking wet.”

Sinful. Jack couldn’t even think straight.

“Jack,” you whined.

He took the condom from you. You shuffled back, drawing him in for a kiss as he rolled the rubber onto his length.

His fingers sought the spot between your legs that was drenched. The sloppy wetness was like music to his ear, reiterating that this wasn’t just one-sided. That you were as far gone as he was.

He raised you, hands firmly gripping your ass as he held your gaze. Your hands locked behind his head, bottom lip taken between your teeth as his tip nestled at your entrance.

When you lowered yourself onto him, neither of you dared breathe. The air felt electric, your bodies anchored together.

Jack’s groan rumbled in his chest, rippling up his throat. “Fuck, baby.”

Your head was swimming. You inhaled raggedly, pressing your lips to Jack’s in an effort to ground you. But he was moaning, a delicious sound that had you clenching down around him.

“Fuck, move. God, please,” he begged, voice strained as he desperately tried to hold his orgasm at bay. “Baby.”

You rocked your hips, pushing him back further into the pillows so you could raise your hips and sink yourself down onto him again. Hand splayed against his throat, lips pressed to the corner of his mouth. He cupped the back of your head, the other arm still wrapped tightly around your lower back. His own hips bucked, desperately seeking your thrusts.

You gasped, cradling his head to your chest as you rose to your knees and he fucked up into you, the sound of his balls slapping your slick cunt flooding the room.

“Ja-aa-aack,” you moaned, a desperate giggling falling past your lips. “I’m so close.”

“Shit,” he cursed, hips stilling as the hand that cupped your head slid between your bodies. Thick fingers circling your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Come for me, baby.”

You were there. You were seeing stars, and Jack was relentless. His fingers, his cock, his words. Your head swam as you moaned, as your body reached its breaking point and he pushed you over the edge.

Your body was a cacophony of euphoria. The tightness in your abdomen that snapped. The moans rippling from your chest from the man you cradled in your arms. The way he held you, even with your tidal wave of arousal surged from you. Unprepared. Unrelenting. Unwavering.

“Fuck, fuck,” he groaned, his hips stuttering as he held you tight, bodies joined together. And still, you throbbed around him. Body overcome with aftershocks—convulsions. The way you squeezed him just right as he spilled inside the condom, clinging to you desperately like he could lose himself if he dared let you go.

It took a minute, maybe a couple, before your breaths calmed. Synchronised. His hand tenderly stroking your hair, bodies completely spent.

B-a-t-h you tapped on his shoulder.

Y-e-s he tapped back, pressing a kiss to your forehead, but neither of you making the effort to move just yet.

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