#Unique Content Approach

[joseigamer]

Patalliro! is fascinating to me because of stuff like this. It's unapologetically gay - even within its anime which aired during primetime hours in 1982 - in a way that many later BL manga would never be, like the ones from the early 2000s which would never dare to call their characters actual homosexuals. Patalliro has actually aged quite well in this regard, there's something comforting about how campy it is.

[utilitycaster]

Sort of a distant tangent off my post about Ashton, but I'm growing more and more suspicious of the fandom claim that there's no time for small RP moments in Campaign 3. I do think that it's been challenging to get deeper party bonding or serious conversations that aren't about the big philosophical questions they're facing, since those do take much more time; but then I think about Calamity, or Candela Obscura. I can genuinely give you at least a couple paragraphs about pretty much every relationship in the two Circles, or in the Ring of Brass. I can also point to no shortage of small moments between characters in the Mighty Nein Aeor or Vox Machina Vecna endgame episodes, which were all extremely plot-heavy and fast-paced, and D20 consistently nails character relationships in a fraction of the time.

I think it really does come down to, as Brennan Lee Mulligan always says, the character creation phase. Laying down a solid groundwork in which everyone has a detailed, rich backstory and sense of personality and relationship history (in the case of characters who knew each other prior to the start of the series) is absolutely crucial, and even in the case of characters who don't know each other before going in, a good amount of time spent in character creation ensures that it's easier for them to develop those interpersonal relationships on the fly. I know in actual play there's some degree of finding the character as you play, but there are games for which there is a very short runway, and I don't think it ever hurts to do more extensive character prep than the bare minimum. And if there are gaps, I think it also helps to go back and fill those in mid-way, away from the table - Travis clarifying Chetney's backstory being a great example that allowed the history of Chetney and Deanna to feel realized and full, despite only a few episodes.

I'll also be blunt: most of the time when people complain that there aren't moments because the plot keeps moving...they're mad about shipping. Which has always rung hollow to me. It was a common complaint in C2, that no time was taken for character relationships, despite them taking an entire half of an episode for the Beauyasha date and despite no shortage of moments for all three of the other couples (and plenty of platonic moments between friends). The issue was never a lack of time; it was that the characters they wanted to talk to each other didn't actually have the relationship in canon that the fans had dreamed up, and so, when the chips were down, they went to other people.

It takes two seconds to say something like "I hold their hand", even in the middle of plot-heavy adventuring. If someone doesn't say it, it's rarely the GM rushing them; it's the player either choosing not to do so, or not remembering to do so, and either of those is quite revealing regarding how the player feels about that relationship and where it stands in their priorities.

[onecooooooolcat]

my mom asked her friend's daughter to help me with the thesis dilemma n the first question she asks is what are you passionate about 😐🥲🥹🧍🏼🙃

[aeyumicore]

misty invasion - no restraint

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: xavier x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 5k words (jesus i even cut 1k out)

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, spoilers AND alterations to ‘no restraint’ (xavier’s misty invasion card), switch!xavier, slightly dark!xavier, super possessive!xav, so much pussy eating, nose stroking clit, cumming on pussy then using as lube, mating press, sensory play but not actually, thigh biting, ankle kissing, foot massage, slight finger sucking, slight dub-con somno at the end, use of y/n

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | sylus's version | raf's version | zayne's version

━ ✧.˖ A/N: sorry this is late! I’ve been dealing with some harassment but won’t get into that here. You guys have been waiting so patiently for this one and i’m so excited to finally share it with you guys. I love writing and it’s incredible to have people to share my passion with, so please enjoy xavier fuckers!

part three is our dear xavier! idk how this one got so long i cut 1k words and its still 5k LOL somehow longer than sylus’s? i haven’t written for xavier in sooo long so this was both challenging but fun! I miss him <3 I wrote xavier as more dark!xav than the soft xavier, but there’s definitely a good mix of both

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

As a Hunter, you’ve had to thoroughly train your senses to be as adept and and accurate as possible, to keep yourself, your fellow Hunters, and the citizens of Linkon safe.

Sight. The ability to track every micromovement a Wanderer made and react in milliseconds. Being able to quickly spot things that don’t belong, indicating something more sinister.

Hearing. Being able to detect even the mutest of sounds. The muffled shuffling of leaves, a slight creak in the wind that could warn you of incoming danger.

Smell. The almost imperceptible scent of different species of Wanderers, each one specific to each genus, able to provide valuable information on what to expect.

Touch. The distinct textures of your different UNICORN issued tools and weapons, the simplest grooves and ridges helping you quickly discern what is what in moments of life or death.  

What you hadn’t necessarily needed was the sense of taste, but that wouldn’t be a sense you’d need as a Hunter. Right?

In the soft glow coming from the protocore you and him had confiscated from an illegal protocore trade, Xavier sat at the foot of the bed you’d be sharing tonight. The soft orange light emanating from the protocore casts a vaguely romantic atmosphere around the two of you. It was suffocating and addicting all at once.

Perhaps it was your fault, you’d teased him, claiming the protocore in question had dulled your senses, a side effect from its unique Protocurves. A clear and obvious lie. 

But you hadn’t expected him to respond so boldly. 

To test your sense of sight, moving from his spot across the hotel room to approach the foot of the bed, sitting so closely that you could see the droplets of water dripping down his bare chest, gliding along the grooves of his muscled abdomen.

To test your sense of smell, leaning in so teasingly close to you that the soft clean smell of his pheromones, akin to fresh laundry blowing in the spring breeze, invaded your very essence. 

To test your sense of hearing, whispering dangerously sultry but innocent words under his breath to taunt you, seeing if you could hear how much he wanted you. 

To test your sense of touch, reaching out to grasp your face into his fingers, warm from the hot shower he’d taken. So daringly caressing your warm cheek in his palm, with a heated desire that you knew could consume you whole. 

It was truly all enough to drive you utterly insane, at the point of no return, nearly jumping him right then and there.

Perhaps Xavier could see that, deciding to give you a temporary reprieve from all the “sensory tests” to complete a test of his own 

His voice is a faint murmur, “Before the rain stops, is there anything you want to do?” His words sound less like a question and more like a plea. Bordering on a demand. 

At his words, your eyes trail to the body lotion you’d set on the nightstand next to the Protocore. You’d just been about to apply it before Xavier had come out of the shower. You bite your lip at the thought of his strong hands rubbing the expensive cream into your aching muscles. Xavier’s eyes follow yours, and he smiles gently, standing up to grab it from the side table. 

He unscrews it, the soft scent of strawberries wafting in the space between you. Under the soft glow of the Protocore, Xavier’s face is flushed, his breath unusually heavy. His eyes are focussed on the body lotion, but you can just barely see the stormy heat behind them. 

“What, are we testing your senses now?” you tease him, sitting up with your hands hugging your knees. 

Xavier sits back down on the bed, the mattress dipping at your feet. Your toes brush against the soft silk of his bathrobe, the knot even looser now, leaving far too little to imagination. His voice is gentle, but urgent, “The Protocore’s Protocurves can…dull a person's senses.” 

He places his palm gently on the underside of your thighs, pulling your bare calves toward him. His touch is impossibly soft, yet strangely enough it leaves your skin burning. You let your body be guided towards him until his chest is practically pressed against your knee. With your bare calf in his hands, it makes it difficult to think. But you do your best to speak, “So…are you affected by it too?”

As Xavier smears the lotion across your flushed skin, he murmurs, “Maybe.” He takes another scoop of the cream into his fingers.

“It’s possible…I won’t be able to feel you anymore from now on.” His eyes are trained on your leg as he speaks, fingers wandering from your knee to your exposed thigh. Though you both know his senses were, and would be, perfectly fine, the longing in both his low voice and dark eyes felt completely real.

As his hands rub into your skin, his fingers briefly find their way under your nightdress. He leans down, resting his chin on your knee. He practically hugs your legs to his chest, the opened jar of lotion still in hand. WIth his curious fingers on your thigh, under the lace hem of your nightdress, you try and distract him from your flushed face. You take a small dollop of the lotion in his hands, teasingly brushing it to his nose.

“What’s the fragrance? Can you smell it?” Xavier’s face on your bare knee doesn’t move, but his eyes flit up to yours, dark and amused. 

He has a barely perceptible smirk, fingers stroking small shapes into the area where your lace nightie meets the skin of your exposed thighs, “Strawberry.” He sounds uncharacteristically self-assured, his chin moving down so that he can smell your skin. 

You shiver as you feel the cool inhale of his nose against your knee. His lips ghost along your leg as he breathes in the scent, lingering for so long you’re nearly quivering against his hold. His hand grips your thigh possessively as he murmurs, “Or maybe...that scent…is cherry.” The way he buries his face into your legs, inhaling so deeply, is nearly enough to have you passing out.

He comes back to nuzzle his chin into your knee, glancing up at you in an expression that is eerily dark and soft all at once, “Was I right?” His words are gentle but there’s an exhilarating taunt underneath them. It only makes you want to taunt him back.

You reach for his ear, noticing it’s unusually peachy pink, stroking along the soft lobe, “Here’s another test. What do you think my hand is doing right now?” Xavier’s eyes close at your touch, his breath heavy and hot against your thigh. His brows furrow, and if it weren’t for the way he leaned into your touch for more, you’d almost think he was in pain. 

As his eyes flicker open to meet yours, you take his cheek into your hands. There’s a vague haziness in them, almost like he’s having a hard time keeping them open, drunk off even your slightest touches. He sits up, leaning into your hand.

“You need to do it harder,” he urges, desperation making itself known in his sultry voice. Your hand trails down his ear, tracing the sharp edge of his jaw and making its way to Xavier’s bobbing neck. 

Your fingers move intentionally, trailing down to his collar until they rest on his chest, “What about now?” 

Though his chest heaves, his blue eyes smolder with an unbridled confidence, “...Too gentle.” He looks at you with an unspoken plea in his eyes, begging you to touch him more. Harder.

You let your shaking fingers toy torturously with the reddened skin on his sharp collarbone, swirling your fingertips on his pounding chest. You bite your lip, enjoying the way his breath comes out in needy pants, the look of desperation on his parted lips growing stronger by the second, “If you still haven’t felt it…”

Xavier continues your thought, cerulean eyes filled with a desperate longing, “If I haven’t felt it…” You gasp as he grabs your wrist forcefully, bringing it back up to his face.

His grip is commanding, caressing your palm with his soft cheek, his breath fanning the inside of your hand. His movements are almost imperceptible, until you feel his lips closing over your middle finger. You’re unable to stop the shiver as his tongue grazes against your trembling finger, his lips caressing your skin in his mouth.

Xavier desperately hopes you keep your eyes trained on his, and not the embarrassingly prominent tent under his thin robe, throbbing for your attention. His breath is hot as he pants against your finger, “...does this mean I’m a lost cause?”

You pull your hand away, unable to withstand the effect his lips enclosing in your fingers is having on your body, your thighs clenching together under your own robe and nightgown. 

“What should we do?” you murmur before softly clutching his shoulder, pulling him closer until you can whisper into his ear for a little hearing test. You let your lips graze his reddened earlobe, before whispering.

“Xavier.”

It comes out far more sultry and seductive than you’d originally intended, betraying your body’s true desires. Xavier apparently shares those same desires, because as he hears you gasp out his name his body has a visceral reaction. 

His heart pounds so rapidly he’s almost sure you’d be able to hear it, his muscled chest rising and falling in an irregular rhythm. His face looks almost anguished, fighting an internal war against himself. He glances towards you, his eyes dark with unbridled desire. 

“Oops. Looks like something broke,” you grin cheekily, thoroughly amused by his reaction, fueled with confidence. 

Xavier’s eyes are so dark they’re nearly black as they drink in the sight of your beautiful smile, as you sit with your knees up on the mattress. The next thing you know, Xavier’s is pushing you down, your back hitting the plush mattress and your robe fluttering open to reveal your flimsy nightdress. 

Xavier stands above you, before his hand comes down to grip the mattress beside your head, pinning you down. His eyes trail up your body, savoring every exposed centimeter of soft skin, before boring into your beautiful eyes. His body is pressed gently into yours, and you can very much make out just how excited he’s become. The area between your thighs moistens at the feeling of his arousal pressed into your stomach. 

“Your sensory test isn’t over yet,” he grunts, his face tortuously close to yours. His eyes are hooded dangerously, an imminent threat reflected in his ocean blue eyes. He leans forward, so close his torrid breath fans against your parted lips.

“Let’s do a taste test,” he murmurs, eyes shutting as he finally closes the distance between your lips in a toe-curling passionate embrace. His tongue prods at the seam of your lips, which you happily part to give him access. He moans into you as he indulges in how delicious you taste, quickly addicted to your soft and warm tongue against his. 

When he finally pulls away, he’s a complete and utter mess. His breath is uneasy and rapid, his body contorting with the rhythm of his pounding chest. His fingers have found their way into yours, effectively pinning you securely against the bed under his hard body. 

“Xavier…” you gasp, squeezing his fingers, “Even someone like you can lose your composure, huh?”

As your bodies heave together, Xavier takes thick and deep lungfuls of your scent, his face buried into your neck.

“One doesn’t need that much composure,” he groans before diving back into the crook of your neck, lips latching onto your pulse. 

As he holds you, gently suckling at your neck, you prod him, “What are you thinking of?”

Xavier hesitates, his lips hovering centimeters above your skin, before murmuring, “Something…indecent.”

You bite back your grin, thoroughly enjoying how needy he’s becoming. With his body still atop of yours, you bring your lips to his ear letting your wet lips stroke against his earlobe. 

“Xavier…” you purr, “Tell me what you’re thinking of.”

You can see Xavier’s neck throb with a thick gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly. It’s then he decides he’s done playing games. 

He sits up eerily calmly, until he’s on his knees at your feet. His fingers trail down your bare thighs, to your calves, and to your feet. You squirm at his fleeting trail of touches, squeaky moans of anticipation slipping from your lips.

As his hands slide down your legs, he lifts your foot into his hands, fingers kneading your aching sole. You moan, your eyes squeezing shut at just how wonderfully Xavier knows your body, knows how to touch you. 

You’re so caught up in the feeling of his hands on your ankles that you don’t notice the way he cups your calf, raising your leg into the air as he caresses it. It’s not until the distinct feeling of his warm lips meet the bottom of your calf do your eyes screw open.

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight before you, Xavier placing a feathery trail of kisses down your calf all the way to your foot. As he tenderly kisses your ankle, his eyes open to watch you with a hungry gaze. 

“The Protocore’s effects…I think we need a stronger test,” he mutters, his mouth rubbing against your ankle still. He sets your leg on his shoulder, gently spreading your thighs apart. 

You blush as your legs part, leaving little to imagination as Xavier situates himself between your legs, one propped on his muscled shoulder and one hooked above his forearm, “Xavier?”

He doesn’t respond, eyes trained on the glistening patch of dampness that adorns your panties. It takes all of him not to drool right over your half naked form right then and there. As his head lowers to kiss your thighs, you tremble at his proximity to your throbbing cunt that leaks with desire and arousal.

“I-Is this…strong enough?” you squeak, his tongue lapping slow circles around the areas his teeth graze. His fingers dig into the plush of your thighs as he indulges in the taste of your legs, eyeing the beautiful way your panties are creasing against the lips of your pussy. He can practically feel the heat coming off you and it makes him bite hard. 

You squeal, your back arching up and fingers reaching down to pull at his soft hair. It’s impossible not to enjoy the sharp graze of his canines and the contrastingly adoring caress of his tongue. Too distracted by the pleasure, you don’t feel the embarrassing slick dripping down your thighs.

But Xavier does.

He detaches his lips from your thighs, briefly admiring the handful of flowering red bruises littered against both your plush legs. 

“It’s…stronger. But this…” he trails off, and that’s when you feel his fingers hooking your soaked panties to the side. You yelp as his fingers languidly swipe at your folds, coating himself in your arousal and bringing it up to his mouth. 

You watch in a mixture of embarrassment and desire as he slips his fingers into his mouth, his tongue swirling around his digits and eyes shut in utter bliss. 

When his blonde lashes finally flutter open, his hazy pupils are dilated amongst the sea of azure, piercing into your own.

“This, I can taste,” he grins gently at you. It’s so effortlessly Xavier, yet something sinister lurks beneath his soft smile. Something that makes you shake to your very core.

You don’t have time to ponder the darkness behind his smile, because Xavier is gripping you by your hips, bringing the apex of your thighs to his waiting mouth, salivating at the beautiful sight of your exposed cunt. His eyes flit from your core to your eyes, your upper body propped up on your elbows as you watch his heated gaze devour you. 

“Please…” Xavier rasps, his voice guttural and desperate. The proximity of his face to your weeping cunt lets you feel his hot breath fan against your quivering pussy, “Please let me.”

You’re speechless, so you nod fervently, gripping his soft hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Xavier wastes no time, burying himself into you. You gasp, spine curling at the force of his demanding lips against your cunt.

You’d think Xavier had been starved for days, the way he latches onto your lips, his tongue eagerly lapping at your slit, savoring every drop of your sweet essence. You thrash at the unrelenting pleasure, as Xavier’s bruising grip holds you in place. 

“Let me enjoy you, please,” he groans, nose rubbing into your clit deliciously, “Who knows if I’ll ever be able to taste you again?”

You whimper at his filthy words, trying to stay still as he ravishes you with his skilled tongue. The lewd slurps and moans that come from him are enough to drive you to the edge of insanity, unable to contain your furious writhing. Xavier only digs his fingers harder into the plush of your thighs, doing his best to keep you in place.

Xavier moans into you, the vibrations of his pleasured sounds thrumming straight into your body. He doesn’t let a single droplet of your nectar go to waste, his tongue lapping diligently. There’s absolutely no shortage of it, as his pointed nose brushes against your clit, his tongue stroking sweetly into your lips. 

“You taste like heaven, Y/N,” Xavier moans into your folds. The vibrations of his filthy words send you reeling and you can barely hear him, only able to respond in the whiniest moans, too wrapped up in the pleasure his mouth so skillfully brings you. 

“Xavier!” you cry, toes digging into the ropes of muscles on his back.

You can vaguely feel one of Xavier’s hands abandon your thigh, moving to free his cock from under his loose robe. You can’t see much, but you can see the way his forearm jerks up and down, the veins in his arms bulging as he pleasures himself, fueled by the taste of you. 

“O-oh f-fuck!” you cry, your back arched, the soles of your feet pressing into Xavier’s back, “Xavier…p-please don’t – nngh – stop!”

Through your widely spread legs, you can see just how aroused Xavier is by your pleas. His fingers can barely wrap around his thick girth. They move up and down effortlessly, coated in his copious pre-cum. It honestly looked like he already came with just how much of his slick was smeared on himself. He’s so impossibly angry and red as he thrusts into his own fist, your tongue unconsciously licking your lips at the sight. 

You’re only snapped out of your mesmerized staring when his lips latch onto your clit, tongue lapping eagerly against the throbbing nub of nerves. His lips suckling at your clit, tongue stroking so sweetly, is just enough to have you coming completely undone all over Xavier’s face. 

You try to pull always as you feel the warm gush coming, but Xavier only holds you down harder with his arm wrapped around your thigh, his hands jerking up and down his leaking erection even more desperation. With nowhere to run, your body thrashes erratically in his forceful arm. Your back arches into the air, your head digging into the plush mattress, as you squirt over Xavier’s insistent tongue. 

You’re well into the depths of overstimulation, feebly pushing his head away, whispering brokenly, “X-Xavier. S’too much, please.”

But he can’t seem to hear you, too wrapped up in your taste, in you. Your body curls in a stinging pleasure as he continues to devour you, positively starved. 

The lewd slurps of his face in your wet thighs, your unabashed moans and cries of ecstasy, the taste of your release against his greedy tongue, and his forceful grip on his cock drive him to his own orgasm. 

He forces himself to pull away, his lips wet with your slick, your body collapsing but still slightly elevated with your calf thrown over his shoulder. With his position kneeling at your feet, your right leg still by his neck, his cock spurts right onto your quivering and overstimulated pussy. 

“H-holy,” Xavier groans breathlessly, hands still jerking himself up and down as rope after rope lands on your glistening cunt. His spend is so deliciously hot against your sensitive skin that you can’t stop the full body tremors that wrack your body. His copious streams of cum start to drip off your quivering cunt, pooling on the mattress beneath you.

Xavier leans forward, clutching your thigh as his body heaves with an overwhelming  satisfaction. His fingers dig into your already bruised thighs, his breath heavy and desperate. 

You want to giggle at his ruined state, stroking his back teasingly with your toes, your calf still resting on his shoulder. Your fingers reach for his ear to caress his cheek and tease him with your words from earlier, “So little composure. Adorable”

Xavier’s gaze, longing and soft, twitches. Before you know it, your back is flat against the bed once more, both your legs pressed against your chest. Your feet hang in the air above your head, Xavier’s heaving body pressed on top of you, something hard and wet pressing into your still trembling core.

Out of sheer surprise, you cry out, “X-Xavier?” Your hands instinctively come up to cup his face.

Xavier doesn’t speak, his eyes trained on your cunt as he runs his tip up and down your folds. When he finally looks up at you, there’s a dark almost feral look in the storm of his cerulean eyes. A look of unbridled animalistic heat. 

He bends down, his beautiful face dangerously close to yours as he smirks, “Isn’t this what you wanted, angel?” 

You shiver at his unusually edged words, eyes widening as you nod gently. Unable to deny the truth of his words. You knew it, and he knew it. You absolutely always wanted him, especially when he was this unhinged. 

Xavier smiles, it’s deceptively gentle as you can see the dangerous glint in his eyes, “I know, Y/N. So, please. Let me give it to you.” Though he begs, you can tell he’s not really asking. Not that you minded. You’d give him absolutely everything. 

So you nod, peering up at him through your eyelashes. Xavier smiles, finger stroking your cheek. With his other hand, he takes his cock, rubbing his cockhead into your sopping folds, smearing his cum messily around. He’d spurt so much milky seed onto your pussy that it quite literally felt like a bottle of lube had been squirted onto you. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. For a brief second, the bright light returns to Xavier’s eyes as he adoringly watches you, with so much affection in his azure eyes. It’s gone just as quickly as it comes, his cock splitting you apart as he thrusts into you. 

You cry out, unable to do anything but take him, your legs caged against both your bodies. The mating press he has you in is so mean, his hard strong body so imposing as he thrusts into you. It’s so easy for him to slide inside you, his cum on your skin even slicker than lube. 

Xavier’s breathy moans wash over you at every single mean thrust, his smoldering eyes never leaving yours as he ruts into you like a madman. A man positively starved. And only one thing could satisfy him. 

His hands press into the mattress beside your head, his entire body boxing you in, with only your thighs separating you. You wish he could hold you closer, press deeper into you, as deep as his cock was currently in your throbbing pussy. 

“X-Xav…” your squeal. The position he has you in gives him easy access to your most sensitive spots. Xavier only moans in response, not typically a man of many words when it comes to being buried in your guts. 

Which is why you’re surprised when he grits out, “Mine.”

You’re so surprised, mind so clouded with his massive girthy cock, that you gasp out, “W-What?”

Xavier’s smirk is faint, almost imperceptible, “You’re mine. I would never leave you.”

His pointed thrusts make you cry out in pleasure, losing your train of thought again. His smile grows more confident at your inability to speak, “Isn’t that what you told James? That your partner left you?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, before realizing he's talking about the man you’d been flirting with for information at the protocore trade, “J-James? You – hnngh – y-you mean Henrik’s idiot – nngh – bodyguard?” 

Xavier drives into you with an even more mind-numbing intensity at the mention of another man. You can see his jaw twitches, his eyes swimming with shadowy emotions.

“What do you think he took you up to the sixth floor for?” he growls, uncharacteristically and darkly gruff, “For this?” 

To punctuate his point he slams his pelvis into your ass, the lewd pap sound of wet skin against wet skin deafeningly loud. 

“It’s too bad for him. You’re mine.” His words are a sweet threat, with no violence and all the passion in the world behind them.

The raw possession in his voice makes you approach your orgasm far too quickly. Your thighs shake uncontrollably at the strain, but even more so at the pleasure Xavier drives into your gummy walls. His cock is so thick that your body burns with pleasure as he stretches you to your limit, your walls sucking him tightly, unwilling to let go. 

Xavier moans at the unbelievably incredible feeling of your walls tightening against him, trying to wring him into you. Xavier’s thrusts become more erratic as he comes closer to his own release, and you’re desperate to cum with him, your orgasm impossibly iminent. 

You know just how to send him over the edge, as you take his jaw into your fingers, his chest pressed into the fat of your thighs as he folds you quite literally in half. Xavier looks surprised but lets his face be guided to yours, his eyes still holding glimmers of shadows held back by a thin shred of restraint. 

“Xavier,” you whisper, trying to keep your orgasm at bay so you can experience simultaneously with the blonde haired man deliciously rearranging your guts, “I’m yours, always.” 

Xavier’s eyes darken, his eyebrows furrowing, as his body responds to your sweet words. His thrusts are harder, rougher, and all the more forceful and demanding. He’s utterly desperate to feel you cum atop his cock, his beautiful girl. Entirely and completely his. 

“Yeah? Then cum for me, please.” His voice is a guttural growl, matching the animalistic intensity of his body pounding into yours. But he stutters just a bit, as you can practically feel the veins in his thick cock throbbing against your pulsing walls.

With Xavier’s intense eyes on yours, your body folded mind numbingly against his hard chiseled body, his filthy possessive words fanning across your lips, it’s impossible to keep your orgasm back any longer. 

You cum with a strangled cry of his name, your elbows bending so your fingers can furiously claw at the sheets by your head. Xavier moans out at how tightly your cunt grips him amidst your climax, absolutely forcing the orgasm out of him. 

You’re a moaning whining mess as Xavier fucks his seed into you. Even after his first orgasm, there’s so much cum, both inside and outside. The area where your bodies are joined is a sticky mess of cum and saliva.

Xavier is no better, the grunts and babbles streaming from his own mouth an absolute symphony to your ears.

“That’s it, love,” he rasps, “So good for me. Such a good girl. My good girl.”

You stroke Xavier’s soft blonde hair as his thrusts slow to an eventual stop. His softening cock is still in you, and you wince as you can vaguely feel it slipping out. Your hips scream in discomfort, your thighs still pressed firmly into your chest as Xavier gasps for air above you. 

You whimper as he shifts, and instantly Xavier is back to his usual soft self, fawning over you, “Are you okay?” It’s honestly insane how quickly he switches, because as his blue eyes search yours, you notice the darkness is gone. All that’s left is that starry glimmering sea of ultramarine, soft, concerned, and loving.

“H-heavy,” you whine, tapping at his thick shoulders. Xavier’s off of you in a flash, his soft cock slipping out as sits on his knees before you. He hovers over you, careful not to put any weight on you, as he brushes your tangled hair off  of your sweaty forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing along your flushed cheek, “Was I…Did I take it too far?”

“No, never,” you mumble happily, draping your arms over his neck. Through his gentle smile that could move the stars, you can see how exhausted Xavier is, but he continues to stroke circles into your skin. His hands reach down to massage your bruised thighs, hickeys littering every inch of you. The serene intimacy of the moment is enough to lull you towards sleep, despite the mess between your legs. 

–

You must’ve nodded off for a few minutes, because when you open your bleary eyes you see Xavier between your legs, carefully wiping the sticky mess away. 

“Xav, s’okay,” you whisper sleepily, stirring in his careful hands and barely able to string together complete sentences, “Clean tomorrow, sleep now.”

“It’s okay, angel,” he murmurs, his voice so warm and dreamy. He holds you gently in place as he continues to wipe you off, “Go back to sleep.”

Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his hands soothing your aching muscles, losing the fight against sleep, “You don’t feel tired?” 

Xavier chuckles, the sound meeting your ears even in your half-conscious state, “I can still feel. But I think I may need another…taste test.”

You can hear the mischief in his voice even if you’re too exhausted to open your eyes.

“Just sleep honey, let me take care of you.”

Something about the playful heat in his voice makes you doubt he’s just going to be cleaning you up with the warm towel he had in his hands. And the thought of that excites you beyond belief, even as you succumb to sleep. 

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or other sites

.ᐟ✦ please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

[quarterlifekitty]

Weaknesses part 5: complexes

Note: this is jokes!! Please don’t take my cartoon pathologizing too seriously!

cw: some daddy kink level stuff

Gaz has a soft spot for girls who suffer from oldest sister syndrome. Girls that are a little world weary and too grown up at too young an age from caring for others while not having people to rely on. He just loves how pleasantly surprised you are literally every time he does something helpful that you didn’t ask him to do. Doing the dishes. Spackling that hole from the picture you took down. Refilling the air in the tires. Bleaching the bathtub. Very small things— but you’re so used to being the only one who can stay on top of things. Literally the high he gets from telling you to sit down and relax is unparalleled.

Soap is, quite frankly, into girls who grew up thinking they were ugly. It’s a terribly selfish, but he likes telling you all of the dirty things he thinks of doing to you, how he feels like someone’s knocked him upside the head when you enter a room in a new outfit, how he has to take a cold shower every time you’re going out to some event and he gets to see you dressed up. Honestly, he has to take the cold showers pretty regularly. Seeing how you’re flustered, and you don’t 100% believe the things he says— so he has to put in the time to make you believe him. You’re the kind of girl boys would dare each other to ask out in middle school, and now Soap has the absolute pleasure of convincing you that sometimes you make him so turned on that he thinks he’s about to throw up.

Ghost likes outcast girls. He likes how you eye him with a little bit of suspicion when he chooses to hang around you. He sort of gets this idea in his head that he’s the only one that can handle your eccentricities— handle you. That other people are afraid to approach you but he’s not afraid of anything. That his interest in you is because honestly, he has a much more refined palate than any of the shitheads you’re surrounded by. And you know what? He likes the idea of you as a couple being the scary, freak ass couple. Two lone wolves becoming mates.

Price likes former gifted students. He loves that you’re talented and quick, yes, but he also can’t help but get excited by all of that pressure that’s on you— that you put on yourself. He gets to be the one that relieves it. He’s the one that gets to lavish you in praise, and he’s also the one who gets to pin you down and force you to take it easy for a little while. He loves gently handling any mistakes or missteps, rationally perceived or otherwise. Because he can tell no one’s ever bothered to treat you so gently, have they, sweetheart? They’ve just been content to push you to your limits and have you run yourself ragged because you’re special. You are, he won’t deny it— but you’re also a little thing that hasn’t seen enough nurturing, in his eyes.

König loves so called “high maintenance” girls. Girls with high standards who know what they want, who have gone through some partners that couldn’t take the heat. He gets a very unique sense of control out of it— knowing all of your rules, rituals, likes, dislikes. Like Ghost, he likes thinking of himself as the only person who knows how to handle you— that everyone before him has just been unworthy of you. That he is strong where others have been weak. And you know what? It’s not rotten work. Not to him. Not if it’s you. He’s just built different.

Nikolai… I’m just going to say it. He likes girls with daddy issues. He kinda throws his whole self into relationships at times, and he likes it when he can be your everything. Your love, your friend, your hero, your source of approval from an older man. And he loves a brat. Because he knows you only act that way because someone didn’t pay attention to his special girl in the past. You’re testing him— daring him, unsheathing your claws to see if he’ll flinch and he never will. He’ll endure it all and chip at your defenses until you’re the soft, satisfied, sweet girl he knows you really want to be. Lavishing you with praise and attention, bragging about you to anyone who will listen. He wants you to have a complete breakdown because you’ve been holding it all in and putting up walls for so long that you don’t even know how to cope with being in the arms of someone who will always catch you when you fall.

[pathologicalreid]

bringing your work home with you | S.R.

spencer shares details of a case with you - with a hands-on learning approach

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: case information from 10x17 "breath play", erotic asphyxiation, choking, fingering, praise kink, aftercare, explicit consent, softdom!spencer, sub!reader, dacryphilia (ish), established relationship dl;dr. word count: 1.74k a/n: im no longer afraid of being perceived on the internet (lie) and will begin writing whatever i want (truth). including this.

“How was work?” You asked hesitantly, looking across the couch to where Spencer was sitting. He was lost in thought, although, you supposed if you had just returned from Wisconsin, you’d feel relatively similar.

Spencer hummed absentmindedly in response while flipping through the pages of the file he brought home with him. “The UnSub certainly had a unique signature,” he answered, dragging his thumb across his lower lip in thought.

You tilted your head to the side in curiosity, “Oh, yeah?” It wasn’t often that Spencer shared details of cases with you, usually because the information he’d be divulging was privileged, but you shuffled over a cushion in hopes that he’d share with you. “What was it?”

He reached over and ruffled your hair affectionately, “He had a particular affinity for erotic asphyxiation. Each of his victims had read this book, Bare Reflections, and that’s how he found them – through sexual fantasies.”

Furrowing your brows, you rested your face in your hand, “So like… sex choking?”

“Yes, love. Like sex choking,” Spencer said, not without humor, before getting up and going to the kitchen, asking you if you needed anything as he did.

When he returned, sitting down on the couch and flipping the file back open, you leaned to the side and said, “I never got the whole choking thing. Not being able to breathe never seemed very sexy to me.”

At that, Spencer closed the file he was scribbling in and set it on the coffee table, “It’s not meant to fully restrict your breathing. At least, not if you’re doing it properly.”

“And you know how to do it properly?” You challenged, raising a single brow at your boyfriend.

He laughed breathily at your test, “I know human anatomy well enough to know not to press on your trachea.”

You fail to hide the way your eyes widen when he speaks to you, his use of the words ‘your trachea’ implying that he is now thinking about choking you. “Cool,” you responded, your brain spinning as you began to think about Spencer’s hand on your throat.

“Come here,” Spencer spoke up, already grabbing your waist and sliding you across the worn leather of the couch. He carefully guided your body over his own until you’re straddling him – one knee on either side of his hips. “You’re a kinesthetic learner, you’ll do better with a hands-on approach.”

Letting a shuddered breath loose, you met Spencer’s eyes, “Hi,” you whispered, keeping your voice low as if you were sharing a secret in a crowded room. Without waiting for him to move, you ducked your head and pressed your lips to his. Quickly, Spencer’s lips coaxed yours open, allowing for his tongue to slip into your mouth.

Spencer’s arms wrapped tightly around you, pressing your chest to his so that you could feel the buttons of his work shirt through the thin cotton of your t-shirt. You were severely underdressed compared to him, lounging in just a t-shirt and underwear while he was wearing his work attire – it just added to the power dynamic you were navigating.

Gently, Spencer tugged at your lower lip, taking the flesh between his teeth before pulling away from the kiss. “Do you trust me?” He asked, loosening his hold on you, and instead running his hands down your arms in a soothing manner.

Straightening up, you nodded, “Yes,” you responded, reaching a hand up and grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

Lifting his dominant hand to your neck, your breathing faltered as he put his hand at the front of your neck, the thumb on one side and the remainder of his fingers on the opposite. “Is this alright?” He murmured, using his free hand to trace small circles on your inner thigh, leaving you wishing you could press your legs together in a desperate attempt for friction.

“Yes,” you repeated yourself, taking the inside of your cheek between your molars and sighing when he moved his hand from your leg.

Nodding assuredly, Spencer brushed your hair from your face, his dominant hand never straying from its newfound home on your throat. “Good, I’m going to keep asking because we’ve never talked about this before,” he informed you. “I won’t fully restrict your airway. If you need me to stop at any point, just tap my arm three times.”

His words led you to relax. The two of you left almost everything on the table, and you were usually good about discussing things ahead of time. You were sure he’d start doing things he knows you like in order to put you at ease. “Thank you,” you whispered, studying his golden irises.

“Such good manners for me, angel,” he praised you, noting the way your back straightens up when he does so. “When I squeeze the sides of your throat like this,” he said, keeping his voice gentle as his hand tightened around your neck, “I’m stopping some of the air from getting to your brain, which makes you feel lightheaded, and when I let go,” he released his firm hold, “You feel a release of dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins that make your head spin.”

As Spencer guided you through the process, you felt yourself getting needier. Humming lowly as you came down from the high, you noticed Spencer’s hand back between your thighs – you couldn’t tell when he had moved his hand, you were too preoccupied.

You held your breath as his hand slipped into your panties, “Hey,” he chided, snapping you out of your anticipation. “Don’t hold your breath,” he says sternly, “I won’t touch you if you hold your breath.”

Pointedly taking a deep breath, it took all of your focus to maintain your breathing as he gently slid a finger between your folds, the wet noise only muffled by the fabric of your underwear. Tentatively, Spencer slipped his finger inside you, swirling it around your inner walls before pulling it out and pushing it back in, squeezing the sides of your throat as he started fingering you at a steady pace.

“Do you feel that?” He asked, continuing the pace he had set, keeping his voice low as he spoke to you. “How when I squeeze your throat your cunt tightens around my finger?”

Reaching a hand up, you gripped his forearm and placed your other hand on his shoulder, trying to steady yourself and desperately needing something to do with your hands. You let out a soft moan as he easily added another finger to his ministrations, your volume growing louder as he released your throat. Your skin flushed as you bit your bottom lip and looked up to the ceiling.

Quickly squeezing your neck, Spencer brought your attention back down to him, “Keep your eyes on me, love.”

You nodded almost imperceptibly in response, blinking rapidly, but leaving your head where Spencer held it – gently forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he started curling his fingers inside of you, pushing his fingertips against your inner walls. “Spence,” you whispered, letting out a low whine as you feel your orgasm beginning to build in your lower belly.

“Did you wanna cum? Make a mess all over my hand?” Spencer asked tantalizingly, resuming pressure on your throat before you even had a chance to respond to him. He was enjoying this just as much as you were.

As you maintained eye contact with Spencer, he began to press the heel of his palm against your clit, the pressure only adding to your lightheadedness. With his hand on your neck, your moans come out garbled, forcing their way through your body. “Fuck,” the word came out as a hiss as tears gathered in your lower lash line. Between the pressure on your clit and throat and the continuing ministrations of his digits, your orgasm built up quickly.

In-kind with the pressure on your throat, you squeezed firmly at Spencer’s forearm, and he watched carefully to make sure that you weren’t trying to tap on his arm.

Your tears flooded over the edge, slowly streaming down your cheeks. You blinked to clear your eyes, but you didn’t let your eye contact with Spencer waver.

A small whimper escaped your throat, and Spencer hummed, “There you go, angel.” He said, nodding as his fingers continued working you to your peak, “I know,” he cajoled when you whined again. “I know. Let it go for me,” he murmured, watching as your body shuddered.

Once your orgasm hits its zenith, Spencer released his hold on your neck, moving his hand to your shoulder to keep you upright while your pussy spasmed around his still-thrusting fingers. Endorphins flooded your mind, prolonging your orgasm for god knows how long until he finally withdrew his fingers from your underwear.

While you remembered how to breathe, Spencer moved his hand from your shoulder to your back, gently pressing on your spine and letting your body fall forward. “I knew you’d like that,” he whispered mischievously, and if you had the energy, you would have rolled your eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Groaning, you buried your face in the crook of Spencer’s neck, “Jell-O,” you responded simply.

Your eyes were barely open as Spencer reached over for a tissue box, wiping your slick off of his hand before slipping his hand beneath the waistband of your panties. You whined and tried to push his hand away, “I know, baby. I just want to wipe you up a bit.” He told you before gathering your wetness on the tissue, wrapping it up and placing it on the end table.

“Toss it,” you mumbled sleepily, ignorant of the fact that you’re still in his lap.

Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “When you feel like moving, I’ll clean up.” He reached over for a glass of water from the end table, grabbing it from its coaster and trying to hand it to you, “Come on, you need water.”

Sighing, you forced your eyes open, “’m tired,” you told him, reaching a shaky hand up for the glass.

Spencer kept a hand on the glass as you drank from it, setting it back down when you were done and smiling softly at your sleepy nature. “Rehydrating is a nonnegotiable,” he whispered gently, but you were already asleep - or close enough to it that you didn’t respond.

[ozzgin]

OZZ OMG OMG OMG THAT YANDERE PRISON THING OMG OMG OMG

*jitters with excitement*

I NEED MORE AHHHHH IT TICKLED MY BRAIN THE RIGHT AND WRONG WAY AT THE SAME TIME

Like if you're nice they'll just become your dogs and if you're not nice they'll give you a very rough foursome I'm down for either OMG OMG OMG help I have problems

To quote Markiplier: "I'm not a masochist, this is about power"

*drops dead*

*instantly revives*

Ahem, I saw you mention you might come up with small plots, so I'll do the logical thing to try to inspire you:

- clueless darling ask the leaders about their gangs and whatnot. Like nonchalantly. Because they're too nice darling thought it's no big deal lol

- darling subconsciously avoid blonde man (even tho he is my favourite hahah) after seeing him beat up the guy

- darling got drunk (somehow in a prison) and either gets horny (and try to let it out under the blankets forgetting they got roommates)or innocently touchy hugging all three of them and poking their unique features, sitting in their laps and so on. Or better yet, touches/approaches other inmates in front of the roommates...

content: gender neutral reader, alcohol consumption, NSFW below the cut!

Inmates are creative. They will always find a way around the rules, and this time it happened to be a rather clumsy attempt at brewing alcohol. Had this been discovered by a guard, whoever concocted the beverage would've landed in detention.

Instead, it was you who found it, innocently assuming someone must've forgotten their water behind. You gulped down the clear liquid, thirsty after you walk, then promptly grimaced at its unexpected bitterness.

Safe to say you're now quite drunk.

That in itself would already be troublesome enough, but another thing is endangering yours and everyone else's peace: you're in a particularly flirty mood.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The officer's smile drops instantly, and he turns towards the deep voice. One of your criminal roommates glares at the sight with hollow eyes. You were clinging to the officer's arm, a dumb grin plastered on your face. The man in uniform quickly shoves you aside, his features pale and drained.

"It wasn't me who started it," he pleads.

You're quickly picked up by your bunkie, who is still staring at the guard. He won't be leaving this prison alive, that's for sure. Now, however, his priorities lie somewhere else.

The hallway spins as you're being carried away, and you shamelessly cling to your ride, feeling and groping the muscles and tracing along his tattooed skin.

"My God, at least wait until we're back to our cell," he groans with flushed cheeks.

The blonde one is trying to play it cool. Come, now, you're obviously out of it. He needs to be mature and tuck you in, or something along the line.

Easier said than done, especially with a raging boner. You're quick to notice it, and you certainly don't hesitate to point it out, making lewd gestures with your hands as some sort of offer.

"Are you sure you won't regret it tomorrow?"

"Hey now, I'm drunk, not unconscious," you bark between hiccups.

He may have interrogated you further, but the thought of your pretty little mouth struggling to take him in is too much to bear. He's essentially drooling by the time he pats his knee for you to come over.

The pierced one drops you on your bed with a flat expression. Annoyance? A closer look at his pursed lips, and one can tell he's really just struggling to maintain his composure.

"Please, I really need to-"

You hold him back by the arm and bat your eyelashes. In return, he clicks his tongue. Is this some sort of test from above? His beloved Darling is essentially begging to be fingered. Yet, he shouldn't be taking advantage of your state. He shouldn't...

Too late. You gasp at his rough fingers making their way in.

"Alright, don't be too loud," he concludes with a faint smirk.

The masked one gently places you on your bed, then plants himself before you with crossed arms.

"Nonsense. You're drunk."

"I mean it", you repeat yourself.

He does his best to look imposing. Truth be told, his knees weakened from the moment "fuck me" slipped out of your mouth. He gladly would, but he has morals. Well, when it comes to you, anyways.

Your pout seems to suggest this would be a long standoff. He sighs, then pushes you back onto the mattress.

"How about this? I'll take care of it," he explains quietly, his cloth hovering above your groin. "I'll be awaiting your offer again once you're sober."

For now, his tongue will have to do.

[Yandere Prison] | [More Yandere Stories]

[ghostlyferrettarot]

𓆉⋆｡˚⋆❀ 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖° Sirene in the houses and how we reflect our beauty 𓆉⋆｡˚⋆❀ 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖°

❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🫧Join my Patreon for exclusive content!🫧

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚

🧜🏻‍♀️♡☽Masterlist🧜🏻‍♀️♡☽ 🧜🏻‍♀️♡☽Masterlist 2🧜🏻‍♀️♡☽

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*Sirene in the 1st House: When Sirene is in your 1st House, your presence is magnetic, almost as if you could captivate everyone just by entering a room. The beauty you emanate is not only physical, but also in your way of being: authentic, charismatic and mysterious. People are attracted to you without fully understanding why, as if your aura had an enchanting power.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*Sirene in the 2nd House: Here, Sirene gives you a unique way of relating to your values ​​and material things. Your attraction is not only physical, but also in how you present what you have and who you are. People can't help but see the beauty in the way you take care of yourself, whether in your style or in the confidence you convey. This beauty attracts others to your life, and perhaps even prosperity.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*Sirene in the 3rd House: With Sirene in the 3rd House, your way of communicating is absolutely seductive. Your voice has a special tone, almost like a soft song that captures the attention of others. Whether through words or writing, what you share has a unique, enveloping beauty. Your way of thinking is bright and harmonious, which makes you even more attractive to those around you.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*Sirene in the 4th House: Here, Sirene's beauty lies in your ability to create a warm and welcoming environment. Your home reflects a place where people can relax, feel accepted, and drawn to your energy. There is a peace and harmony in your space that invites others to linger. Your emotional connection to your family and roots also has a touch of grace that makes you unique.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*Sirene in the 5th House: With Sirene in the 5th House, your charm in love is irresistible. People feel a natural attraction to you, and romance becomes one of your brightest areas. The creativity you exude is captivating, and people are drawn to your unique style of expression. You are a magnet for those seeking pleasure, fun, and a touch of magic in their lives.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*Sirene in the 6th House: Here, your beauty is reflected in the way you handle the everyday. There is a grace in the way you work and take care of yourself, in your daily habits and routines. You are able to make the most mundane tasks seem elegant, and your way of serving or caring for others has a softness and magnetism that attracts those around you.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*Sirene in the 7th House: When Sirene is in the 7th House, your relationships are deeply attractive. People are captivated by the way you are in a relationship or in a partnership. You have a gift for attracting those who seek love and harmony, and your ability to connect intensely with others has a pure and natural beauty. There is something ethereal about the way you give of yourself in a relationship that makes others feel special.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*Sirene in the 8th House: In the 8th House, Sirene grants you a deep, transformative and captivating beauty on the most intimate levels. Your magnetism is irresistible on the emotional and physical level, and you are able to dazzle others with an intensity that goes beyond the superficial. People feel a powerful attraction to you, and you may have a special ability to touch the souls of those who approach you.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*Sirene in the 9th House: With Sirene in the 9th House, your worldview is a form of beauty. Your way of thinking, your philosophy of life, and your way of sharing your beliefs attract those who are looking for something deeper and more meaningful. You have a unique way of inspiring others through your words and your ideas. The beauty of traveling and exploring is part of your essence, and others are drawn to your ability to see the world with bright eyes.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*Sirene in the 10th House: Here, your beauty is reflected in your professional life and your ambition. Your public presence is magnetic, and people see you as a figure of power and attractiveness. You have a special ability to impress with your work and achieve your goals, which makes you even more attractive in the social and professional spheres. The beauty of your success is a mix of grace and determination.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*Sirene in the 11th House: With Sirene in the 11th House, your beauty is reflected in the way you connect with your community and friends. People are drawn to your vibrant energy, your desire to improve the world, and your unique way of leading groups or collectives. You have a special ability to make others feel comfortable and welcome, and your charisma shines brightly in social circles.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*Sirene in the 12th House: In the 12th House, Sirene's beauty is hidden in the invisible, the spiritual, and the mysterious. There is something deeply captivating about you that is not easily visible to others, but those who know you deeply can sense it. Your soul has a serene, introspective beauty that draws others to you, even when you are not aware of this power.

[fanonical]

You know, an interesting (and, presumably, unintentional) thing that's happened as a result of both hbomberguy and Todd in the Shadows' videos about James Somerton is that they show how two people can talk about the same thing and still use different words, or approaches, or give their unique spins on the material.

There's a few areas where Todd and hbomb's videos overlap in content, for example the criticism of Somerton's claims that straight women are en-masse misunderstanding gay content or being homophobic, but there's a huge difference in the way they talk about it and the language they use. Sure, they're making the same or similar points, because there's only so ways of saying 'this claim is unsubstantiated and there is no evidence for it', but they're still using different words, different approaches, and different arguments. Their scripts are not copy-pasted from each other with a few words changed, unlike Somerton's videos and the articles/books/videos that he plagiarises.

And I think that's interesting, you know? They've unintentionally become a really good example of how to do this kind of video right - just don't fucking plagiarise, ultimately.

[misaerabl]

Off The Ice

𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐘 𝐗 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 CONTENT: wc...10k ✦ college au, scissoring, eating out, fingering (both a and r receiving and giving), smut with plot/plot with smut SUMMARY: You were tasked with covering your university’s women’s hockey team, you see it as your chance to prove yourself worthy of becoming the next chief editor. Your main focus is Abby Anderson, the team’s star forward known for her cold, distant reputation. After observing her a few times, you’re surprised when she starts to warm up to you—unveiling a side of her no one else seems to see.

click here for part 2 (christmas special)

The newsroom is buzzing with the usual chaos of deadlines and last-minute assignments. You’re sitting at your desk, scrolling through your laptop when your editor, Dina, stands by the door, holding a clipboard with the next round of assignments.

“Alright, people, we’ve got some big matches coming up,” she says, her eyes scanning the room. “I need someone to cover the women’s hockey team. We’ve got scouts coming to the next game, so make sure it’s more than just a game recap. I want a real story, got it?”

You glance up, the opportunity immediately catching your attention. The women’s team has been making waves lately, and Abby Anderson, the star forward, has been all anyone’s talking about. Known for her ruthless play and icy demeanor, she’s a force on the ice but practically a ghost off it. No one has really gotten the chance to uncover what makes her tick.

“I’ll do it,” you say, raising your hand before anyone else can speak up.

Dina looks at you, surprised. “You sure? It’s a tough one. A lot of pressure to get a unique angle.”

“I think I’ve got a good angle,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I want to write about the team, but also about her. There’s more to Abby than just her game stats.”

Dina raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Alright, you’ve got the job. But make it count.”

As she walks away, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with nerves. This could be your shot at making your mark—and maybe even getting that chief editor position. You grab your notebook, already mentally outlining your approach. The real challenge, though, won’t be writing the story—it’ll be getting past Abby’s walls.

A few weeks later, you're sitting in the stands of the rink, notebook in hand, watching the women’s hockey team practice. The cold air cuts through the arena, but you're too focused on your task to notice.

Abby Anderson moves like a storm on the ice. Her swift, powerful strides cut through the rink with precision, her eyes locked on the puck, her focus unbreakable. She’s the kind of player who makes it look easy, but you know there’s more to it than that.

You’ve been attending practices for days now, trying to catch glimpses of Abby when she’s not in game mode. But so far, she’s kept her distance. She’s all business, all the time, barking orders at her teammates and keeping her interactions brief. If anyone speaks to her off the ice, it's either short and to the point or completely ignored. You’ve yet to get more than a few sentences out of her.

You jot down a few notes, trying to focus on the team’s dynamics, but your eyes keep drifting back to Abby. She's skating alone now, practicing shots at the net, her intense movements betraying any hint of vulnerability. You wonder if she ever lets anyone see that side of her—the one that's not all about hockey, about being the best.

“Hey.”

You jump, startled, and look up to find Abby standing next to the railing, her skates still on, but her posture relaxed. She looks at you with an unreadable expression.

“Uh, hey,” you reply, quickly trying to gather yourself. "Just—just taking some notes. You know, for the article."

She nods, glancing at the rink before looking back at you. “How’s it going so far? Got a good story yet?”

You hesitate, unsure how much of the truth to reveal. “I’m still working on it. It’s hard to find the angle everyone’s expecting… but I think I’ll get there.”

Abby studies you for a moment, her face still as hard to read as always. “Just don’t make me sound like a robot on the ice. I know how that goes.” She smirks, her first real hint of a smile.

You can’t help but laugh, relieved. “I’ll do my best to capture the whole picture. Not just the stats.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Good. Keep it real.”

With that, she turns and heads back to the ice, leaving you standing there, heart racing slightly faster than usual. You watch her skate off, feeling the weight of the conversation. It wasn’t much, but it was more than you had before. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to get past her walls.

But you also know it’s just the beginning. There's more to Abby Anderson than the game, and you’re determined to find it.

A few days later, you’re standing in front of Abby’s dorm, the familiar nerves creeping in. The article deadline is approaching fast, and you’re still struggling to break past Abby’s walls. But today is different. After days of awkward exchanges and hesitant small talk after practice, you finally managed to convince her to sit down for a real interview.

You took a deep breath, knocked on the door, and heard the faint shuffle of movement from inside. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Abby in a casual hoodie and sweatpants, her hair pulled back in her signature braid. The intense, icy exterior you were used to wasn’t there—she looked... normal, like a regular college student.

"Hey," she said, offering a small, almost reluctant smile. "Come on in."

You stepped inside, feeling the warmth of the room instantly contrast with the chilly vibe Abby often projected. The space was clean but a bit cluttered, with hockey gear tossed on one side and textbooks scattered on her desk. It felt strangely intimate like you were seeing a side of Abby no one else ever had access to.

"Sorry about the mess," Abby muttered, gesturing to the pile of equipment. "I’m usually just too tired after practice to clean."

"No worries," you said, taking a seat on the edge of the desk. "Thanks for agreeing to this. I know you’re not exactly a fan of interviews."

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, instead grabbing two water bottles from a shelf and tossing one to you. "Let’s just get this over with," she said, her tone a little more playful than usual. It was as if the pressure from earlier had eased just a bit.

You smiled, grateful for her willingness. "I won’t take too much of your time. Just a few questions about... well, everything. Hockey, life. What it’s really like being Abby Anderson, off the ice."

She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms as she considered your question. "What it's really like..." she echoed, her gaze briefly flicking to the window as if pondering the words. "You make it sound like I'm some mystery."

"Maybe you are," you said, more candidly than you expected. "No one really knows you beyond the ice. You're always the tough player who doesn't talk to anyone off the rink." 

Abby’s gaze softened at your words, but she didn’t respond right away. Instead, she fiddled with the water bottle in her hands, turning it absently as she seemed to think about what to say. There was a quiet tension in the air, one that neither of you had expected when you first agreed to sit down.

"Yeah, I guess I come off like that, huh?" Abby finally said, breaking the silence. Her voice had a quiet edge to it, almost as if she was admitting something she hadn’t said out loud before. "I don’t really know how to be any different. It’s easier this way."

You felt a shift in the atmosphere, like she was allowing herself to be more open than she ever had before. The moment was subtle, but you couldn’t ignore it.

"I get that," you said softly, leaning forward. "But you’re more than just a hockey player, Abby. I mean, you’ve got layers—there’s got to be more to you than what we see on the ice."

Abby’s eyes met yours then, the intensity of her gaze making your heart skip a beat. For a brief second, you thought she might brush you off again, but instead, she looked almost… vulnerable.

"You think so?" she asked, her voice quieter now, as though she was testing you, seeing if you’d take her seriously.

You nodded, feeling a sense of connection you hadn’t expected to feel. "Yeah, I do."

A moment of silence stretched between you, and you could feel the energy in the room shift. The playful banter had evaporated, replaced by something deeper, more intense. Abby’s eyes lingered on yours, her lips pressing together as if fighting back something unspoken. You weren’t sure what was happening, but it was as if the ice around her was finally starting to melt, and in the stillness of her dorm, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

"I don’t usually do this," Abby said, her voice a little breathless. "Let people in, I mean."

The admission hung in the air, and you realized how rare this moment was for her. It was raw, real, and far from the icy persona she’d shown everyone else. There was no game face now, no walls.

"You don’t have to let anyone in," you replied, your voice lower now, almost without thinking. "But I’m not like everyone else, Abby."

She took a step closer, her eyes searching yours for a moment. Then, without another word, Abby’s hand reached out, brushing against yours—light at first, like she was testing the waters. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart raced as the proximity between you grew more charged, more electric.

"Are you sure about that?" she whispered, her voice shaky, unsure, but her eyes steady as she closed the space between you.

Before you could respond, Abby leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft but insistent. You could feel the toned, muscular strength in her arms as she held you, her hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. The warmth of her body radiated against yours, the firmness of her form pressing gently but surely as her fingers slid into your hair. It was as if her whole presence surrounded you—strong, sure, yet still carrying a touch of hesitation.

The kiss deepened as Abby caressed your hair gently, her fingers threading through it with a tenderness that belied her fierce persona on the ice. It was a contrast—the hard, determined athlete and the softness of the way she touched you. The moment felt like a contradiction, one that both of you were willing to embrace.

When she finally pulled away, her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. She looked at you with wide eyes, lips slightly parted as if she couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Her hand remained in your hair, fingers still grazing your scalp.

Abby’s hand lingered in your hair, her touch soft but steady, as though she needed a moment to ground herself. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, eyes still locked on yours, as if searching for something—answers, maybe, or reassurance that this wasn’t just a fleeting moment.

"That was..." Abby’s voice trailed off, her lips curling into a small, uncertain smile. "I didn’t think you’d be... like that."

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the kiss. "Like what?"

Abby shrugged, a little bashful for the first time since you met her. "I don’t know. I guess I just figured you’d be... different."

"Different how?" you asked, your voice quieter now, but there was a playful edge to it.

"Like... not so—" She gestured vaguely between the two of you, looking for the right words. "I don’t know. You’re not what I expected."

It was your turn to feel a little bashful. You didn’t know what to make of this sudden shift in dynamics, but there was something about Abby’s vulnerability, her uncertainty, that made you feel like maybe this—whatever this was—wasn’t just some random kiss. It felt more like a beginning.

"Maybe I’m not," you replied softly. "Maybe we’re both surprising each other."

Abby’s eyes softened at that, and she gave a slow nod. She seemed to be processing everything in silence, unsure of how to label the moment. She was still the tough, intense player on the ice, but the cracks in that persona were becoming more apparent now.

"Don’t go thinking this means I’m some open book now," Abby warned with a smirk, though there was no real bite to it. "I’m still the same Abby Anderson."

You laughed lightly, the tension easing between you two. "I never thought you were an open book."

"Good," Abby replied, her smile returning, warmer than before. She finally pulled her hand from your hair, though she kept her gaze locked on you, her lips still lingering with a hint of the kiss you’d just shared. "But maybe... just maybe... we can see where this goes."

You nodded slowly, your heart still racing, but your chest felt lighter, freer as if a new chapter was just beginning to unfold. "I’m willing to find out."

The quiet between you lingered, the air between you charged with something unspoken. Abby’s eyes softened, and for the first time, she didn’t seem like the intimidating hockey player. She was just Abby, standing in front of you, her vulnerability laid bare.

"Maybe we don’t need to talk about the article anymore," she murmured, her voice low, almost like she was thinking out loud. "Maybe we can just... be here for a bit."

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could respond, Abby was standing up, closing the space between you. The shift in her demeanor was subtle but unmistakable. She was no longer the distant athlete; she was someone who wanted more than just the interview.

"You make it hard to stay guarded," she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear, her breath warm against your skin. Her hands slid to your waist, gently pulling you closer. Her body was strong, and solid, but there was a softness in the way she touched you, a tenderness you hadn’t expected.

You swallowed, your pulse racing as you met her eyes. "Abby..." You couldn’t find the right words, but you didn’t need to. The air between you both was thick with the weight of what was about to happen.

Abby’s lips found yours again, more urgent this time, less like a question and more like an answer. She kissed you deeply, her hands threading into your hair as she pulled you closer, her body pressing against yours with a heat that made everything else fade away. The kiss was slow, deliberate, as though she was savoring the moment. Her arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, like she was afraid to let you go as if the distance between you both had only made her want you more.

You melted into her embrace, your hands finding their way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as if you could close the gap that had always been there between you. She groaned softly, the sound low in her throat, sending a thrill through you.

When the kiss finally broke, Abby’s forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily. Her hands gently cupped your face, her thumbs brushing across your cheeks as if memorizing the feel of you.

"I’ve been wanting this," she admitted, her voice hushed. "More than I thought I would."

You smiled, still feeling the rush of the moment. "Yeah," you whispered back. "Me too."

Abby’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. "This doesn’t change anything, right?" she asked, her voice a little uncertain. 

You gently cupped her face, your fingers tracing the sharp line of her jaw as if to reassure her. "No," you said softly. "But maybe we can figure out what comes next..."

Her lips curled into a smile, and for the first time, it wasn’t guarded. It was real, and it was for you. "Yeah," she whispered, closing the distance again, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that felt like the beginning of something neither of you was ready to define just yet, but both of you were willing to explore.

And as the kiss deepened, you realized that no matter what happened after this, you had stepped past the barrier that had once kept you both apart. Whatever came next, it was something neither of you were willing to walk away from…

She pushes you down on the couch, her body hovering above you. She stares deeply into your eyes as if she was asking for permission. You nod in response. 

Abby buries her face in your neck, kissing and nipping it, making you moan in response 

Abby's touch is confident and assertive, her hands roaming your body with an intensity that mirrors her personality on the ice. She knows what she wants, and she's not afraid to take it. Her fingers trace patterns on your skin, igniting sparks wherever they touch.

Her hands slid under your shirt, her fingertips trailing along your sides, feeling the soft skin beneath. You gasped at the touch, your hips bucking slightly. Abby took advantage of this, her hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss.

She broke away from your lips, her breath hot against your neck as she whispered, "Can I... can we...?" She nuzzled her nose against your jaw, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, "Can I take this off?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, and she reached for the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and over your head.

As your shirt hit the floor, Abby's eyes roamed over your bare chest, taking in every detail. She reached out, tracing a finger over your collarbone, down your sternum, and across your abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake.

Her touch was light, reverent, as if she was worshipping your body. She looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire, and leaned down to press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your chest.

You hissed in a breath at the warmth of her mouth, your fingers tangling in her hair. She continued to place kisses all over your chest, her hands roaming over your curves. She paused at the waistband of your skirt, looking up at you for confirmation.

Seeing your nod, she hooked her fingers under the hem, pulling it up and off. She took a moment to appreciate what was revealed - your smooth legs, the curve of your hips, the lacy underwear that matched your bra.

Abby's hands slid up your legs, her touch leaving a path of tingling heat. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of your underwear, her eyes locked with yours. "Can I...?" she asked again, her voice barely above a whisper, full of need and uncertainty.

“Go ahead abby…” 

With a nod and a shy smile, Abby slowly slid your underwear off, tossing it aside. She paused, her eyes taking in every inch of you, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.

She heard you suck in a breath above her, and she looked up at you with a mischievous grin. Slowly, she leaned in, her hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place as she pressed her mouth to you, her tongue parting your folds.

She started slowly, exploring you, learning what you liked. Your moans filled the room, encouraging her. She slipped a finger inside you, her mouth continuing its administration. You let out a low moan, your hands fisting the couch cushion as you tried to keep yourself grounded.

She added another finger, stretching you, preparing you. Your moans grew louder, your hips moving in rhythm with her actions. Abby looked up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears at your beauty. She withdrew her fingers and climbed up your body, claiming your mouth in a passionate kiss.

You could taste yourself on her, the evidence of her ministrations. You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your legs around her waist, pulling her closer. "Abby..." you whispered, your voice shaky,

"Mmm?" She murmured against your lips, grinding against you. She was still fully clothed, her pants rough against your bare skin.

"You're still dressed..." You panted, your hands reaching for the hem of her shirt. She grinned and sat up, pulling her shirt off in a swift motion. She reached behind her back, unhooking her bra and tossing it aside.

Her breasts bounced free, and you reached up to grasp them, squeezing and kneading them in your hands. Abby let out a pleased moan, her hands reaching for the button of her pants. She popped it open and slid the zipper down, shoving her pants and underwear down her legs.

Now Abby was completely naked, sitting astride you. You looked at her, taking in her toned stomach, her full breasts, the curve of her hips, her muscular thighs. She saw the awe in your eyes, and it made her feel powerful.

With a predatory grin, Abby lowered herself onto you. She wrapped her legs around yours, crossing her ankles behind your knees. She slowly rocked against you, her wetness rubbing against yours. You gasped at the new sensation, your hands gripping her thighs as she continued to move against you.

She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against yours as she captured your mouth in a deep kiss. She sped up her pace, her breath coming in short pants against your lips. She reached one hand down between them, her fingers finding that bundle of nerves and rubbing in time with her movements.

You cried out into the kiss, your hips bucking up to meet hers. The sensation of her rubbing against you, combined with her fingers on your clit, was too much. You felt your orgasm building, your vision blurring as Abby continued to grind against you.

"Abby... Ab... I'm... I'm..." You stuttered, your words cut off by a moan as she quickened her pace. She felt you convulse against her, your hands clutching at her back, your face buried in her neck.

She smiled to herself, pleased with the effect she was having on you. She kept scissoring against you, her own orgasm building. "Look at you," she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "You're so… perfect.”

As she spoke, she felt her own climax approaching. She increased the pressure between her legs, rubbing herself against you with frantic intensity. With a loud cry, she came, her hips jerking against yours as her orgasm overtook her.

She collapsed on top of you, her breath hot against your neck. You ran your fingers up and down her back, feeling the dampness of her sweat. "Abby... that was..." you started, but words failed you. She just chuckled and nuzzled your neck. "I know,”

She stayed on top of you, her arms wrapped around you in a loose hug. Her fingers traced patterns on your stomach as she nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent. "Can we just…”

"...Stay like this for a while?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She nuzzled your neck again, her body pressing closer against yours. She felt content, happier than she had in a long time. She felt a connection with you, a bond forged in the heat of passion.

You nodded, not wanting to break the moment. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close as you both lay there in silence. The only sound was the gentle rise and fall of your breathing and the soft rustling of the sheets.

  The next day came faster than you expected. You’d barely gotten any sleep, your mind constantly replaying everything that had happened after. But as you sat in the café near the university, waiting for Abby, your heart settled into something more focused. Today wasn’t about the sparks from the night before. Today was about the interview.

The café was quiet, the kind of place where you could lose yourself in the hum of conversation and the clink of cups and saucers. It was cozy, with warm light spilling from overhead lamps, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You had a lot on your mind, not just about Abby, but about the article and what this interview could mean for your future with the paper. If you did this right, if you got Abby to open up like she never had before, you might be able to prove yourself worthy of the next chief editor position.

A few moments later, the door to the café opened, and there she was.

Abby stepped inside, her usual confidence radiating from her as she scanned the room, her eyes locking onto you instantly. She was dressed casually—athletic but comfortable—and yet she carried herself with the same quiet intensity that made her a standout on the ice. Her gaze softened when she saw you, and the familiar spark of something more was there again, just beneath the surface.

She walked over to the table, giving you a small but genuine smile. "Hey," she greeted, taking a seat across from you. "You doing okay?"

You nodded, trying to steady yourself. "Yeah. Just a little nervous."

"Don't be," she said, her voice reassuring. "It’s just coffee, right?"

"Yeah. Just coffee," you echoed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But you know... a little more than that, too. A real interview."

Abby chuckled, glancing around the café. "Right, well, let's make it count then."

You both ordered your drinks and for a moment, there was an easy silence between you. The pressure of the moment, of what had passed between you both, seemed to be melting away, replaced by something more comfortable, natural.

Finally, you picked up your notebook and pen, getting down to business. "Alright," you began, your voice steady but a little softer than usual. "Let’s start with hockey. You’ve been the team’s top scorer for a while now. How does it feel to be in the spotlight like that?"

Abby leaned back in her chair, her eyes focused on you. "It’s... a lot of pressure. But it’s part of the job. Being in the spotlight is something you just get used to. Especially when your team depends on you."

There was a confidence in her tone, but also something more—something that suggested the weight of being the best wasn’t always as easy as it seemed. You could sense the layers beneath her tough exterior, and you knew this was where the real interview would begin.

You pushed forward, asking more questions, and letting the conversation flow. As you spoke, Abby opened up more than you expected, revealing not just her thoughts on hockey, but glimpses of who she was outside the rink. She was driven, and focused, but there was a vulnerability to her that only seemed to surface when she talked about her team, her passions, and the sacrifices she’d made to get where she was.

The interview wasn’t just about facts anymore—it was about connection. And for a moment, you forgot about the article entirely.

After a while, Abby leaned forward, her eyes locking with yours, and you could feel the shift again. There was a quiet tension hanging between you both as if the world outside the café had faded away, and only the two of you existed in this small, intimate moment.

"You know," Abby said softly, her voice almost playful now, "you asked a lot of questions, but you haven’t told me anything about you. What made you want to write about me? About hockey?"

You blinked, taken off guard by her question. You hadn’t expected her to turn the tables. "I... guess I thought you were an interesting story. I mean, you’re kind of a mystery to everyone. The tough hockey player. The star who doesn’t talk to anyone off the ice."

Abby’s smile was small, but it felt meaningful. "I’m not really a mystery. Just... focused. You get that, right?"

You nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. "Yeah, I get it."

For a long moment, you both just sat there, the sound of the café filling the silence between you. The interview was far from over, but something had changed. It wasn’t just about the article anymore. It was about something else—something you both hadn’t been ready to acknowledge yet, but it was there, lingering in the air between you.

"You know," you said after a beat, "I think this might be one of the best interviews I’ve done."

Abby’s gaze softened. "Glad I could make it interesting," she said, her voice quiet but warm.

And as you sat there, talking about everything and nothing, you realized that what had started as a simple interview had turned into something else entirely. A new chapter, one you weren’t sure how to write, but were willing to explore.

The final game of the season was just days away, and the energy around campus was electric. You could feel the anticipation building with every passing hour. The women’s hockey team had worked tirelessly all season, and now, the championship was within reach. For Abby and the rest of the team, it was the culmination of all their hard work. For you, it was the final stretch to prove you could handle the pressure of being the next chief editor of the school paper.

You’d passed the draft of your interview to Dina, the current editor-in-chief, and she had loved it. The words flowed smoothly, and she could sense the connection between you and Abby without you having to spell it out. That feedback had given you the confidence to continue pushing forward, not just for the article, but for everything you had on the line.

But the days leading up to the final game felt like a whirlwind. You and Abby were both consumed with your responsibilities—her with the team’s last-minute practices and preparation, you with your final edits and deadlines. It wasn’t the ideal time for the two of you to reconnect, but you knew that after the game, everything would settle, and maybe you could find out what this—whatever it was—meant.

You found yourself in the quiet corner of the student lounge, typing away on your laptop, trying to finish your article before the big game. Your mind kept wandering back to Abby, though—how her smile lingered after the interview, how she’d looked at you across the café that day, like there was something more she wanted to say but couldn’t.

You hadn’t had time to talk since that day, and now, with the pressure mounting on both sides, you weren’t sure when you’d get the chance to sit down with her again.

The door to the lounge opened, and you didn’t look up right away, assuming it was just another student coming in for a late-night study session. But then, a familiar voice broke through your concentration.

"Hey, you."

You froze, the sound of Abby’s voice sending a familiar rush through your chest. When you looked up, you found her standing there, dressed in a hoodie and sweats, her long hair tied back in a messy bun. She looked exhausted, but there was a spark in her eyes.

"Abby?" you asked, surprised but a little relieved to see her. You hadn’t expected her to stop by.

"Yeah," she said with a small grin, taking a step closer. "I, uh, figured we should talk before the big day. We’ve both been too busy, haven’t we?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement mixed with nerves. "Yeah, it’s been crazy. I’ve barely had time to breathe with everything going on."

"I get that," she said, her eyes softening. "But I wanted to check in with you. How’s the article coming along? You’re going to be on top of the world when they publish it, you know that, right?"

A warmth spread through you at her words. "It’s... going well," you said, trying to hide the excitement in your voice. "I think Dina liked the draft. She said it’s one of the best interviews she’s read in a while."

Abby raised an eyebrow, a proud smile tugging at her lips. "I’m glad to hear that." She leaned against the table, her tone turning more playful. "But you better not make me look too good. I don’t want to get all cocky before the game."

You laughed softly, the familiar spark between you two returning. "I think I can keep it balanced."

Abby’s smile faded just slightly as she looked at you more seriously. "Listen, about... what happened before. I know we’ve both been busy, but I just wanted to say... I don’t regret it. Us, I mean." She paused, her gaze softening. "I guess I’m just trying to figure out what this all means, but I don’t want to run from it, either."

Your heart skipped a beat, the tension in the air thick with unspoken words. "Me neither," you said quietly. "I don’t know what this is, but I’m willing to see where it goes. After the game, maybe we can talk more."

Abby nodded, a small, genuine smile returning to her face. "Yeah. We’ll figure it out." She glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at you. "I should go, get some rest. Big game tomorrow, right?"

You nodded, feeling that familiar pang of disappointment that she had to leave so soon. "Yeah. Good luck, Abby."

She paused at the door, turning back to face you. "Thanks. And... I’ll see you there," she said with a wink before she disappeared into the night.

As you sat back in your chair, you couldn’t help but smile. Despite everything—despite the pressure of the article, the looming championship game, and the uncertainty about what you and Abby were becoming—you couldn’t deny the excitement buzzing in your chest. Tomorrow was the big day, and whatever came after, you knew you’d both be ready.

The final game had arrived, and the energy around campus was palpable. The buzz in the air was electric, with every student and faculty member talking about the championship match. You could feel the weight of the moment—this wasn’t just any game. For Abby and the team, it was the culmination of months of grueling practice, sacrifices, and determination. And for you, it was the finish line for your article—and maybe something more.

You had finalized your piece, and after getting Dina’s approval earlier that morning, there was nothing left to do but wait for the game to unfold. But as you stood at the rink, the sense of anticipation made it hard to focus on anything else. You watched as the team prepared, Abby at the forefront, looking every bit the fierce competitor you had come to admire.

Her movements were fluid, and powerful, slicing through the ice like she owned it. You found yourself drawn to her, to the way she held herself—confidence in every stride, but you could also sense something else, something beneath the surface. And though you tried to concentrate on taking notes for the article, every so often, you’d glance at her, catching her eye.

You were almost caught up in the rhythm of the game when the buzzer sounded, signaling the start. The intensity was immediate, the tension tangible in the arena. The crowd’s roars filled your ears, the game beginning in a blur of motion. You scribbled down observations, the action on the ice more chaotic than you had anticipated. It was difficult to focus on anything other than the game itself. Every move felt crucial, and Abby was right in the middle of it all, controlling the pace with every turn.

But it wasn’t just the game that had your attention. It was the way Abby played—how she seemed to be everywhere at once, her energy contagious, urging her teammates forward. She was the center of it all, and you couldn’t help but admire how she took charge, and how her presence seemed to push the team toward victory. She was sharp, a calculated force on the ice.

And then it happened.

Abby made an interception, gliding effortlessly past the defense. At that moment, time seemed to stretch out, the entire arena holding its breath as she lined up for a shot. Her eyes focused, and in one smooth motion, the puck flew off her stick and toward the net. The sound of the puck hitting the post rang out, but Abby wasn’t done. She was already there, crashing the net, securing the rebound, and slamming it in. The crowd erupted.

Your heart raced, the realization dawning on you that her goal had put them ahead—and it was the winning goal.

The game continued, but the tide had turned. With seconds on the clock, the buzzer sounded, and Abby’s team celebrated their victory. You stood in the middle of the crowd, still processing the intensity of it all. Abby had led them to victory, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for her.

You waited near the locker room, hoping to catch Abby after the game. You hadn’t been able to keep up with the excitement of the game completely, but you had seen enough to know this was her moment. The sound of the locker room doors opening echoed in your ears, and you spotted her almost immediately.

Abby stood out from the others, her usual focused demeanor softened by the thrill of the win. She was still in her gear, her face flushed from the game, but there was a lightness about her that hadn’t been there before.

"That was incredible," you said, your words a little breathless from the adrenaline of the game still coursing through you.

She looked at you, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "It was a team effort," she replied, but you could see the pride in her eyes. "Still, I’m glad you were here to see it."

You smiled, taking a step closer. "You’ve earned it," you said quietly, meeting her gaze, trying to find the right words. "I’m proud of you."

Abby’s expression softened, her usual confident exterior cracking just a little. She leaned in slightly as if weighing her words carefully. "Thanks," she said, voice lower than before. There was a moment of silence between you two, the noise of the locker room buzzing faintly in the background.

For a second, it felt like you were the only two people in the room. Abby’s eyes never left yours, a quiet understanding passing between you. There was no need for words, not now. The game, the season, the article—it all seemed to fade as you stood there, caught between the rush of the moment and the realization that this wasn’t just about hockey anymore.

As the team continued their celebration around you, Abby’s hand brushed against yours, a subtle connection that sent a jolt through you. She gave you a small nod before walking toward the rest of her team, leaving you standing there, your heart still racing from the game—and from everything that was unfolding between you and her.

The newsroom was alive with a flurry of activity, papers scattered everywhere as the final touches were being put on the issue. The clock ticked toward 8 PM, and you were sitting at your desk, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous energy. The article was done. Your piece on Abby, her journey to the championship, and the thrilling game had come together perfectly. The highlight of the issue, the one everyone was talking about. It felt like the culmination of everything—your hard work, your ambition, and the connection you had built with Abby.

As the editors rushed past, congratulating you on how well the article turned out, you couldn't help but smile. A few of them had asked you how you’d managed to make Abby open up, some even teasing you about her sudden warmth toward you. "Did you sweet-talk her?" one of the writers joked. "She’s been ice-cold with everyone else!" You just shrugged, your mind drifting to her last words to you after the game. "Just doing my job."

But as the energy in the newsroom built to a crescendo, Dina appeared in front of you, leaning in with a grin. "I think you just earned the spot as the next editor in chief," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the buzz of the room.

Your heart skipped a beat. You blinked, not sure if you’d heard her right. "Wait, what?" you asked, feeling a flush of disbelief and excitement rise in your chest.

Dina chuckled softly. "You’ve earned it. You’ve got the article everyone’s been talking about, and you’ve proven you’ve got the skills. I’m officially putting your name in for the position." Her eyes twinkled with approval as she walked off, leaving you stunned, your breath caught in your throat. This was it. This was everything you’d worked for.

As the evening wore on, the final issue of the paper was ready to go to print, and it was only a matter of time before it would be released at midnight. You stayed in the newsroom, helping with last-minute preparations, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Abby. What she’d said, what she meant to you now, and how the chemistry between you had grown in such a short time.

In the midst of the excitement, your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your thoughts. The message on your screen made your heart race.

Abby 🏒: Hey, where are you? 

Abby 🏒: I’m still at the party btw

Abby 🏒: I want to see you.

You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips as you typed your response, the warmth from her text a stark contrast to the cool air in the newsroom.

You: I’m at the paper, finishing things up. I’ll be there soon❤️

You felt a little giddy, your heart racing with anticipation. After everything, the article, the win, the promotion—it felt like the perfect moment to see her again, to see where everything between you would go.

As the clock ticked toward midnight, you closed your laptop, the rush of excitement bubbling up inside you. The paper would be published, and your future as editor-in-chief seemed all but certain. But as you left the newsroom, your mind was on Abby—and the night ahead.

As you turned the corner, the soft hum of the campus night air accompanied your steps. The excitement of the newsroom buzzed in your veins, but everything seemed to quiet when you saw her waiting for you.

Abby was leaning casually against the wall, a small smile tugging at her lips as she waited, the blue jersey she wore a bold contrast against the dimly lit hallway. It was the same one her teammates all wore, emblazoned with your university’s logo—proud and unmistakable. But even in something as simple as a jersey, there was still that undeniable pull to her presence.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you walked toward her. "You didn’t have to wait for me," you teased softly, though you were secretly glad she had.

Abby pushed off from the wall, stepping closer. "I wanted to. Besides, I promised I’d see you tonight, didn’t I?" Her voice was playful, but there was something softer in her gaze, something more sincere.

You nodded, the air between you light and easy, but still charged with that undercurrent of something more. "You did," you agreed. "And, uh, I actually have something to show you." You pulled out your phone, tapping through the screens until you found the article you’d written.

Abby raised an eyebrow as she glanced at the screen. "No way," she said, her lips curling up slightly. "You actually made me sound like a good person."

You laughed, but there was a warmth spreading in your chest. "I didn’t just make you sound like a good person, I made you sound amazing." You swiped down, showing her the headline: "Abby Anderson: The Heart of the Winning Team." The words felt just as true as when you’d written them.

She studied the screen for a moment, her fingers brushing lightly against the phone. "I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to get me to open up like this," she said, her voice quiet, almost thoughtful. "But you did. So, thanks."

Your heart raced at her words. The sincerity in her voice made everything feel more real, like something was shifting between you two.

Abby looked at you, her gaze holding yours for a moment longer than usual, before the silence stretched. The sounds of the party down the hall faded in the background, the moment between you two feeling more significant than any celebration.

"You wanna head back to the party?" you asked, breaking the silence, though neither of you moved immediately

She shook her head, her  hand brushed against yours. She paused, her fingers lingering against your wrist, a soft smile on her lips.

"I think," she started, her voice low and steady, "I’d rather be alone with you right now."

Your heart skipped a beat, her words making everything feel just a little more intimate. The noise from the party down the hall seemed to fade away, the energy shifting in an instant.

"You sure?" you asked, your voice a little quieter now, as the anticipation between you two hung thick in the air.

Abby nodded, her eyes meeting yours, full of something unspoken. "Yeah. I’d rather spend some time with you... just us."

She gave your hand a gentle squeeze before she led you away from the noise, down the hallway, and toward her dorm room. The walk felt longer than it was, but it gave you time to let the anticipation build. Abby’s steps were confident, but there was a softness in the way she held your hand, something that made your chest flutter.

When you reached her dorm, Abby opened the door, stepping aside to let you in. The room was cozy, nothing extravagant, you took in the familiar feeling. It felt like a place where she could truly be herself. The familiar blue jersey she wore still clung to her frame, a symbol of her strength on the ice. But now, in the quiet of the room, she seemed different—less guarded, more present.

She tossed herself on her bed and pulled you in with her, planting kisses on you. 

The sudden pull caught you off guard, and you laughed softly as you fell beside her. Abby's arms wrapped around you, her strength both reassuring and gentle. Her kisses were warm, pressing against your skin with an intensity that made everything else fade away. The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of the sheets and the sound of your breathing.

Abby paused, her forehead resting against yours as she caught her breath, eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation. You met her gaze, a smile curving your lips as you traced the line of her jaw with your fingers, feeling the tension melt away under your touch.

“You okay?” she whispered, her voice husky and low, a tender contrast to the fierce athlete everyone else knew.

You nodded, your fingers threading through her hair. “More than okay,” you murmured, pressing your lips to hers again. The kiss deepened, slow and steady, as if both of you were savoring the rare moment of peace away from the chaos of the rink and the noise of the world outside.

Abby shifted, pulling you even closer, her embrace tightening around you as if she wanted to make sure this moment stayed real. The scent of her, the warmth radiating from her body, made your heart race. 

You sit up and move on top of her, her gaze softening as you did. “I think… you deserve a reward for your excellent performance at the game. don’t you think?” 

Abby’s eyes widened slightly at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She let out a breathy laugh, her hands finding their place on your hips as she looked up at you, a mix of amusement and anticipation in her gaze.

“Oh?” she said, raising an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “Is that so?”

You leaned down, your lips barely brushing hers as you whispered, “Absolutely.” The playful tone sent a shiver through her, and you felt her fingers tighten their hold, drawing you closer.

Abby’s gaze softened, the fierce determination she carried on the ice replaced by an openness that was reserved for moments like this—moments just between the two of you. The space between you seemed to shrink as she tilted her head to meet your lips again, her kiss more insistent, filled with a new kind of energy that made your pulse quicken.

She sighed against your mouth, the sound sending warmth rushing through you. Her hands traveled up your back, pulling you down until there was barely any distance left. The room, once filled with quiet, seemed to pulse with the shared heartbeat between you.

“Best reward ever,” Abby whispered, a grin breaking through before she kissed you again, deeper this time as if she couldn’t get enough.

Pulling away from the kiss, you start to unbutton your shirt, watching her gaze on you. 

She bit her lip, her eyes never leaving yours as you began to unbutton your shirt. She felt a flutter of anticipation in her stomach, her heart pounding in her chest. She reached up, helping you remove the shirt, her fingers brushing against your skin. "You're so…”

"...beautiful," she finished, her voice barely above a whisper. She reached out, tracing a finger along the edge of your collarbone, feeling the warmth of your skin. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the spot she had just touched, before moving on to kiss the sensitive skin just below your jaw.

She trailed her kisses down your neck, her lips lingering on your pulse point. She could feel your heartbeat fluttering beneath her mouth, quickening with each touch. "I want you," she murmured against your skin, her hands sliding down to rest on your hips.

She chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as she pulled back slightly. "You're right, I got a little carried away," she said with a playful grin. She settled back, watching you with hooded eyes, her hands resting on your thighs.“Ah! Not so fast Abigail. I’m the one who’s giving you this reward remember?”

You help her remove her jersey, and then the shirt she was wearing underneath. You trail down to her pants. As you began to unzip her pants, she lifted her hips, allowing you to slide them down along with her underwear. She lay before you, her body bare and exposed, her chest heaving with anticipation. Her eyes, filled with desire, followed your every movement as you leaned down.

She let out a soft gasp as you kissed her stomach, your lips trailing down to her hips. She wrapped her arms around your head, holding you close as you continued your path of kisses. When you reached her inner thigh, she spread her legs wider, giving you access to her most intimate area.

She moaned softly as you kissed her, the sensation overwhelming. Her hips buckled against your touch, her breathing growing heavier with each passing moment. She tangled her hands in your hair, pulling you closer as the pleasure intensified. "Please...please..." she begged, her voice barely a whisper.

She arched her back, her breath hitching as you continued to tease her with your mouth. Her legs tightened around your shoulders, her whole body tensing as the pressure built inside her. "Don't stop...please, don't stop..." she pleaded, her voice hoarse with desire.

Her eyes flew open, her mouth forming a silent 'O’ as you pushed two fingers inside her. She writhed beneath your touch, her hips bucking against your hand. "Yes...like that...please..." she moaned, her voice growing louder as the pleasure became almost too much to bear.

“Hm? You like it baby?” You hissed. 

“Oh god, yes...” She panted, her body tensing as your fingers curved upwards, finding that sweet spot deep inside her. Her head fell back against the bed, her body trembling. "More...I need more..." She looked at you, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire.”

You smiled, pleased with her reaction, and added a third finger, scissoring them inside her. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as the stretch and pressure became overwhelming. "Fuck...fuck fuck fuck!" She chanted, her voice echoing through the room as she struggled to breathe.

She could feel the heat building inside her, her body growing warmer and more sensitive with each passing second. Her hands grasped at the sheets beneath her, pulling them taut as the tension became unbearable. "I'm...I'm going to...please, please!" She begged, her eyes wide and desperate.

With a final thrust, you pushed your fingers deep inside her, crooking them upwards. She shattered, her body convulsing as waves of intense pleasure washed over her. She screamed your name, her voice hoarse from shouting, her body growing limp as the aftershocks subsided.

As she came down from her high, she pushed feebly at your shoulder, her body still shuddering occasionally. “My turn,” she whispered, her voice still ragged from her release. She pushed you onto your back, straddling you before you could protest.

You landed on your back with a surprised grunt, looking up at her with widened eyes. She grinned mischievously, her eyes filled with lust and determination. She slowly began to kiss her way down your chest, her hands caressing your skin.

She continued her descent, her lips leaving a trail of kisses on your skin. Without warning, she reached out and tore open your already unbuttoned shirt, the fabric ripping easily under her strength. She tossed the shirt aside and moved on to your pants, roughly pulling them down your legs along with your panties

Once she had you fully exposed, she took a moment to admire the view, her eyes hungrily roaming over your body. She licked her lips before leaning down, her hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. "I'm going to make you feel so good,”

She whispered, her voice low and sultry. Before you could respond, she wrapped her hands around your thighs, pushing them apart. She leaned down and slowly, torturously, ran her tongue up your length.

She took her time exploring you with her tongue, licking and sucking at your most sensitive areas. Her hands massaged your thighs, occasionally dipping lower to tease your entrance. She worked you with skill and enthusiasm, determined to drive you wild with pleasure.

Abby sucked on your clit making you toss your head back and grip her hair. You could feel her smile. She stops for a second and slides in her fingers inside you

She curled her fingers inside you, rubbing against your g-spot as she continued to suck on your clit. You cried out in pleasure, your hips bucking against her face desperately. She added another finger, scissoring them inside you as she finger-fucked you relentlessly.

She could feel you tightening around her fingers, knowing you were close. She doubled her efforts, sucking hard on your clit as she pumped her fingers faster. Her other hand reached up to roughly grope your breast, pinching and tugging at your nipple. She wanted to feel you come undone.

The combination of sensations became too much and you came with a loud moan, your body shaking and convulsing. Abby continued to stroke you through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure. She slowly withdrew her fingers and licked them clean, savoring your taste. "Mmm, you taste divine," she purred.

She crawled back up your body, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. She leaned down to claim your lips in a searing kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on her. She ground her hips against yours, her own desire evident in the way she rocked against you. She was far from finished with you… 

She kisses your neck, trailing down until she reaches your breasts, sucking on your nipples. 

She lavished attention on your breasts, suckling and kneading the soft mounds. She bit down gently on one peak, causing you to gasp. She grinned mischievously and continued her torture, moving between the two and back again.

“Mhmm.. Abby… Shit”

She heard your muffled words, your voice hoarse with desire. She knew you were helpless under her touch. She bit down harder on your peak, relishing your cry of pleasure-pain. She moved her hand down to toy with your slick folds, mirroring the action of her mouth with her fingers. 

You bit your lip, staring at her. as if begging her to give it to you. You wanted her fingers inside your walls once again.

Abby looked up at you through her lashes, a smirk playing on her lips. She slowly slid one finger, then two inside you, loving how you bit your lip and watched her with eager eyes. "You like that, baby?”

“Fuck yes…” 

Abby pumped her fingers in and out of you, curling them upward to hit that spot deep inside. Her thumb rubbed circles on your swollen nub. "Look at me while I touch you," she demanded. Your eyes locked onto hers as your hips lifted to meet her touch, silently begging for more.

She added another finger, stretching you. She watched your face as she increased her pace, her fingers slamming in and out of you. Your breaths came in short pants, your moans filling the room. She leaned down to capture one of your moans with her mouth, kissing you deeply.

Your legs shook as she worked you expertly. She could feel you tightening around her fingers. "That's it, baby. Come for me," she encouraged, her voice low. You shattered, convulsing around her fingers as you found your release.

As your climax washed over you, Abby gentled her touch, helping you ride out the waves of pleasure. She slowly withdrew her fingers.

She gathered you in her arms, holding you close as your breathing gradually slowed.

She stroked your back soothingly, placing soft kisses on your shoulder. "You’re gorgeous," she murmured. She reached over to the bedside table and retrieved a warm, damp cloth, cleaning you up tenderly. 

She tossed the cloth aside and pulled you back into her arms. "How are you feeling?" she asked softly. She nuzzled your neck, her voice laced with concern. You snuggled against her, your voice sleepy. "Content," you murmured. "So taken care of…”

She smiled, her heart warming at your words. She tightened her arms around you, her voice gentle. "Good. You deserve to be taken care of." She kissed your shoulder, her touch becoming slower, more loving. "Rest now, baby. I've got you.”

Abby’s gaze softened as she watched you sleep, the subtle rise and fall of your chest lulling her into a sense of calm she rarely found anywhere else. The room was quiet, the only sounds being your soft breaths and the distant hum of the city outside.

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle in—a mix of contentment and the unfamiliar ache of something deeper. Brushing her thumb across your cheek, she whispered, “You have no idea what you do to me,” her voice so low it was almost swallowed by the quiet.

As exhaustion finally pulled her eyes closed, Abby held you tighter, as if anchoring herself to this moment. The worries of games and expectations could wait; for now, all that mattered was the warmth shared between you and the steady rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

A/N: this is my early Christmas present tee hee.. I went on a bit of a whim writing this… (please let me know if I miss any warnings!)

[yup-no-way]

Astro Observations pt. 3

Hi there! So here comes another astro observations post. But before I have to rant. Man…uni is kicking me in the butt (average engineering student). Like wdym I have a month till my finals and I have a research paper, 3 projects, 2 lab reports, 2 Tests and one lab exam due. And I have to start studying for my finals as well. ߹ ᯅ ߹

These observations are based on my personal experiences so don’t take it as full facts. These placements can also be influenced by other things in someone’s chart like degrees, houses and aspects. Also if u have any suggestions for what content you’d like to see feel free to let me know. English is not my first language lads so don’t drag me for grammatical errors. xoxo

Venus trine Ascended aspect: how does it feel to be life’s favourite . Like these people just have it like that. They are genuinely beautiful people and while that can manifest as conventional attractive, from my personal experience, their beauty is very unique , depending on other aspects in their chart. But whatever style of beauty they have, they embody it fully and they turn eyes wherever they go. Also these are the type of people who’s beauty is influenced by how they feel about themselves so if you practice self love and acceptance then that’s when you radiate the most.

Pluto 10h: huuuuge issues with authority figures. Mostly these people fall into 2 categories. First one, they always feel suppressed but push back therefore getting into arguments with those authority figures. Second one, they feel suppressed but don’t say anything, they prefer to lay low and not confront those issues. Overall for each case it’s a heavy placement and causes heavy friction in your life. These people also almost 100% have (or had) a lot of arguments with their parents. BUT, if you channel this energy by learning how to play the cards you’ve been dealt and manipulate situations without coming so upfront then this placement is so powerful, especially in regards to career. CEO energy. These people rlly would much rather work for themselves. I could go on hours talking ab Pluto, but I’ll leave it for another post because this planet is so interesting and people need to learn how to harness its energy better.

Lilith Gemini: worst nightmare for these people? Being perceived as dumb. They will rather be called ugly, weird etc. than being called stupid. And the best part? They aren’t stupid at all. Their most cunning aspect? Their intelligence. For some, they might’ve actually been perceived as slow when younger but worked hard just to not be associated with that imagine anymore.

4th house in Gemini: for a lot of these people, their home never felt that welcoming when young. This placement indicated a home/environment where growing intellectually/academically was very important (more important than their emotional state). Geminis 4th house experienced a lot of shame regarding their grades in their home/school or faced immense pressure to be “the first in class”. Also, this placement can be harder to navigate because due to the lack of support they might’ve felt in their environment. I wanna give you guys a big hug, seriously. You are more than your academics. Lots of love to yous xoxo

Venus trine Pluto: these people are magnetic. They are also mostly perceived way differently than they are (kinda sad tbh). So many people with this placement are hard to approach, even if they are genuinely nice people, at least once in their life, someone told them they look intimidating. This placement might not get hit on as much because of it. People tend to have fantasies regarding this collective, specifically in the house of your Pluto. For example if you have a Pluto in the 2nd house, they might fantasise about you taking them out for a shopping spree or them taking you out and spoiling you. If you have Pluto 10th house, then maybe they are very attracted to your work persona and might fantasise about some forbidden work love. You get the point. This placement is very intense but it can attract unhealthy relationships. You need to learn your toxic pattern and make sure you do not repeat it.

I hope you guys enjoyed this as well! I will be diversifying my content soon, I just had some more placements I wanted to talk about before I start smth new. Also I don’t have that many observations today since I have been focused on writing another Astro blog that is coming soon (I am so exited). Before my next astro observations post I’ll need to gather more info (aka psychoanalyse all my friends and the people around me)

Till next time xoxo

[saintshadow]

What are you transitioning into?

pile i

This is powerful energy, y’all are transitioning into a serious state of healing. I’m talking about DETACHMENT!!!! You are learning to disconnect from the pain, a lot of you are going to be developing mastery over pain.

Releasing the emotions that devour you from the inside out, transmuting everything and healing everything.

You have done a lot of work, you have made a lot of strides, but letting go has not always been easy for you.

Choosing yourself has not come easy to you, the death is slow and agonizing at times. As if your emotional flesh is being ripped from your bones, only to find that in retrospect the fixation pain may even have been meaningless to begin with.

You are becoming “human” again, you are evolving past the empty numbness that once threatened to consume you.

Enveloped in healing, compassion, love, and peace.

You are coming into the most powerful and healed version of your life yet.

pile ii

You are transitioning into your voice, you may feel called to reveal something or release some kind of information? I see that there have been private or secret conversations, maybe even for some of you there could have been legal issues?

I see someone being able to clear their name or reverse something, you are coming back badder than before? But I sense that some of you could be going for revenge. Trying to take something back or take something from someone?

I feel that some people may need to rethink their intentions and motivations in getting revenge. It could be advised against- as you may not be seeing this situation clearly for what it is. It’s like you’re fixated or obsessed with something- you could have Taurus or Scorpio placements. Your transition depends strongly on your actions.

This time period should be about renewing yourself & shifting into a new direction.

Some of you have very powerful sexual energy, and an intense sexual appetite.

Some of you may need to leave a relationship or connection- some of you may have chosen to cling to something which has only previously drug you down and will only continuously drag you down.

You’re being advised to leave whatever this is behind, you may be feeling upset but this will not go in your favor if you act impulsively.

You could regret that for a very long time.

pile iii

This pull is v unique, and there’s a split pathway for some of y’all. This is content creators, influencers, etc- people who create and people who may be known or infamous. Your actions socially, publicly, etc are like very watched?

I’m seeing where you may have a bit of a difficult or complex past, you could’ve been known for a traumatic or toxic relationship? Or for having a string of relationships that were incredibly toxic. I see that you went into a hermit stage for some time- perhaps you felt that you needed to change something. Or you felt as if you were misunderstanding something or OTHERS were- perhaps both.

It feels like something big changed for you, but you have to let go of negative patterns or habits tied to your social interactions. You’re in a period of rest or rejuvenation after some serious change was needed- now the next change is coming and this change is about how you approach your social life & image.

You may be coming “out of hiding” or out of the hermits nest, there’s a huge chance for redemption and social acceptance. I see that you may be making a lot of money or be able to have more abundance and independence than you did before because of this level up. You will be in a position where you can give to others & help others. You will have a lot of support & a good image.

You have to make the choice to move into that positive direction- stand up for yourself when need be and own up when necessary.

[sofiatarot]

Pick a card: How do men see you vs how do women see you?

TIP JAR - FREE READINGS - PAID READINGS

1->2

3->4

Group 1

How men see you:

Men perceive you as someone who is transitioning into a better version of yourself. You exude a sense of self-assurance and fulfillment, as though you’re content with your life and know your worth. They find you approachable yet slightly mysterious, giving the impression that you have layers to uncover. You might appear as someone who’s moved on from the past and doesn’t let nostalgia hold you back. Physically, they see you as balanced and harmonious, with features that stand out for their simplicity and elegance.

How women see you:

Women see you as someone who’s been through transformative changes and come out stronger. You inspire others with your sense of adventure and openness, as though you’re always ready for a new chapter in life. They might admire how relaxed you seem, not someone who feels the need to prove themselves or compete for attention. Your energy feels uplifting, almost idealistic, and your appearance reflects that: approachable, unique, and effortless, with a style that’s welcoming and relatable.

Group 2

How men see you:

Men see you as someone grounded, steady, and practical, someone they can count on. There’s a quiet strength about you, like you don’t need external validation to feel confident. At first glance, they may underestimate you, but once they get to know you, they’re drawn to your stability and the way you handle challenges calmly. Your appearance might be understated, but there’s a natural attractiveness to you—clean lines, practical choices, and an overall polished vibe.

How women see you:

Women admire your ability to find balance in life and create meaningful connections with others. You’re seen as nurturing yet independent, someone who brings a sense of calm and trustworthiness to any situation. You have a grounded presence that makes others feel safe, but there’s also a mystical, introspective side that intrigues them. Your appearance reflects this balance, with a timeless, well-maintained style that blends warmth and sophistication.

Group 3

How men see you:

Men perceive you as someone intense and hard to read. You might come across as guarded or cautious, like you’re always weighing your options before making a decision. They find this enigmatic side of you both frustrating and captivating. Your personality seems fiery and passionate, though they might sense some inner conflict or unpredictability. In terms of appearance, you stand out for your boldness or a certain sharpness in your features that adds to your allure. You don’t blend in; you’re unforgettable.

How women see you

Women see you as someone who’s been through a lot emotionally but refuses to back down. You might have a rebellious streak or a defiance of traditional norms that sets you apart. While some might find you intimidating, others admire your independence and ability to speak your truth. Your energy is intense and dynamic, and this reflects in your appearance: striking, unconventional, and commanding attention without trying too hard.

Group 4

How men see you:

Men find you deeply transformative, like someone who has an aura of mystery and depth. You give the impression of being constantly evolving, which makes you both fascinating and a little intimidating. Your emotional intelligence stands out, and they see you as someone who feels deeply yet keeps a certain level of control over your emotions. Your appearance might lean toward the dramatic, with bold choices or striking features that leave a lasting impression.

How women see you:

Women see you as someone who walks the line between introspection and action. You have a way of observing people and situations that feels deliberate, as if you’re always analyzing and learning. You come across as confident in who you are, with a magnetic energy that draws others to you. Your appearance reflects this: bold, confident, and captivating, with a sense of style that’s both refined and powerful.

xoxo ❤️‍🔥

[rainydetectiveglitter]

Your Midheaven Brand Identity:

A Guide to Boosting Your Social Media Presence

When it comes to building a strong brand identity, your Midheaven (MC) sign can offer invaluable insights. This astrological point reflects your career, public image, and how you’re perceived by the world. While many focus on their Rising sign to guide their personal brand, the Midheaven is actually more influential in shaping how you're perceived professionally. Also, consider how this relates to your IC for a more rounded approach.

Midheaven in Capricorn (Aries Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should project authority, reliability, and professionalism. You’re seen as a goal-oriented and disciplined figure. Highlight your achievements, strategic thinking, and leadership skills.

Social Media Tips: Focus on structured content such as detailed guides, case studies, and professional milestones. Use a polished, business-like tone. Incorporate posts that reflect your strategic planning and long-term vision. Share behind-the-scenes looks at your projects to show the effort and planning involved.

Brand Colors: Deep green symbolizes growth and stability, gray for professionalism, and navy blue for authority and trustworthiness.

IC Connection: Leverage Cancer's emotional depth and nurturing qualities to soften the Capricorn edge. Share personal stories that reveal your emotional investments and how they drive your professional goals. This adds a relatable human element to your otherwise authoritative presence.

Ambitious and Professional: Emphasize your leadership skills and career-driven mindset.

Structured and Goal-Oriented: Showcase your strategic approach to achieving success.

Public Image: Present yourself as competent, disciplined, and reliable.

Social Media Tips:

Share content that highlights your achievements, career milestones, and strategic insights.

Use strong, authoritative visuals and a professional tone.

Midheaven in Aquarius (Taurus Rising)

Brand Identity: Your brand should emphasize innovation, originality, and a forward-thinking mindset. Showcase your unique perspective and contributions to progressive ideas.

Social Media Tips: Create content that reflects cutting-edge trends, technological advancements, or visionary concepts. Use engaging formats like interactive posts, futuristic graphics, and thought-provoking discussions. Position yourself as a leader in new ideas and unconventional solutions.

Brand Colors: Electric blue represents innovation, silver for technology, and neon green for modernity.

IC Connection: Infuse your Leo charisma into your Aquarius content to make it more engaging and personal. Share your passionate insights on future trends and show how your creativity shapes your forward-thinking approach. This blend enhances your appeal and relatability.

Stability and Luxury: Focus on high-quality, luxurious content and the practical aspects of your field.

Innovative and Unique: Bring a fresh, unique perspective to traditional topics.

Aesthetic Appeal: Use rich, earthy colors and visuals to create a soothing, attractive profile.

Social Media Tips:

Share content related to comfort, luxury, and tangible results.

Use high-quality images and engaging, thoughtful posts.

Midheaven in Pisces (Gemini Rising)

Brand Identity: You are seen as empathetic, artistic, and intuitive. Your brand should be focused on creativity, emotional connection, and spiritual or philosophical insights.

Social Media Tips: Use your platform to share evocative stories, inspirational content, and artistic expressions. Emphasize emotional resonance and creativity in your posts. Engage your audience with reflective and soulful content, such as personal journeys or meditative practices.

Brand Colors: Soft pastels evoke calm and creativity, sea green for emotional depth, and lavender for spirituality.

IC Connection: Incorporate Virgo's analytical skills to add depth and clarity to your Piscean content. Provide well-researched insights and practical advice wrapped in a creative or emotional narrative. This combination balances creativity with substance, appealing to a broad audience.

Versatile and Communicative: Showcase your adaptability and ability to handle a variety of topics.

Inspirational and Imaginative: Focus on creative and philosophical insights.

Intellectual Engagement: Share informative and engaging content that stimulates thought.

Social Media Tips:

Use diverse content formats, such as articles, videos, and infographics.

Share posts that combine creativity with intellectual depth.

Midheaven in Aries (Cancer Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be dynamic, confident, and pioneering. Emphasize your leadership abilities and proactive approach.

Social Media Tips: Share bold, decisive content and take a stand on relevant issues. Use energetic visuals and assertive language to engage your audience. Highlight your initiatives, new projects, and leadership moments to convey authority and drive.

Brand Colors: Bright red for passion and leadership, orange for enthusiasm, and black for strength and sophistication.

IC Connection: Balance Aries’ assertiveness with Libra’s charm and diplomacy. Engage with your audience in a way that is both bold and approachable, showing your leadership qualities while maintaining a sense of fairness and balance.

Dynamic and Courageous: Emphasize your proactive and pioneering approach.

Balanced and Harmonious: Highlight your ability to bring harmony to challenging situations.

Community Focus: Showcase your role in fostering positive change and leadership.

Social Media Tips:

Share bold, action-oriented content that reflects your leadership and dynamic nature.

Use harmonious and engaging visuals that balance professional and personal elements.

Midheaven in Taurus (Leo Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should reflect stability, practicality, and an appreciation for quality. Focus on your reliable and steady approach to success.

Social Media Tips: Share content that highlights your achievements, high standards, and practical advice. Showcase luxurious or high-quality aspects of your work or lifestyle. Use a consistent, polished visual style to emphasize reliability.

Brand Colors: Earthy tones for stability, gold for luxury, and deep green for growth.

IC Connection: Integrate Scorpio’s intensity and depth into your Taurus-centric content. Share powerful personal experiences and transformative moments that underline your commitment to quality and reliability. This adds a rich, emotional layer to your dependable image.

Creative and Charismatic: Showcase your artistic talents and strong presence.

Stability and Practicality: Focus on grounded, practical aspects of your creativity.

Transformational Experiences: Share stories of personal growth and resilience.

Social Media Tips:

Create visually striking content that highlights your creativity and achievements.

Use a combination of dramatic and practical elements to engage your audience.

Midheaven in Gemini (Virgo Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be adaptable, communicative, and intellectually curious. Highlight your versatility and wide-ranging interests.

Social Media Tips: Create diverse and engaging content, from informative articles to interactive posts. Showcase your quick thinking and adaptability by covering a range of topics and trends. Use engaging formats like quizzes, debates, and live interactions to connect with your audience.

Brand Colors: Bright yellow for creativity, turquoise for communication, and light gray for neutrality.

IC Connection: Blend Sagittarius’ enthusiasm and philosophical insights with Gemini’s adaptability. Share your adventurous experiences and broad interests in a way that stimulates curiosity and engagement among your followers.

Analytical and Knowledgeable: Emphasize your expertise and practical solutions.

Versatile and Communicative: Highlight your ability to adapt and share diverse insights.

Movement and Learning: Incorporate elements related to continuous learning and exploration.

Social Media Tips:

Share detailed, informative content that offers practical value and insight.

Use a clear, organized visual style with engaging, versatile formats.

Midheaven in Cancer (Libra Rising)

Brand Identity: Your brand should be nurturing, empathetic, and community-focused. Emphasize your caring approach and ability to create supportive environments.

Social Media Tips: Share content that highlights your commitment to community and emotional well-being. Use personal stories, testimonials, and supportive messages to build a sense of belonging. Engage with your audience through compassionate and encouraging interactions.

Brand Colors: Soft blues for calm and trust, warm whites for purity and care, and sea green for emotional balance.

IC Connection: Incorporate Capricorn’s professionalism and structure into your Cancer-centric content. Present your nurturing approach in a way that also highlights your organizational skills and strategic thinking. This creates a well-rounded and credible public persona.

Balanced and Nurturing: Focus on creating harmony and providing support in your field.

Professional and Caring: Highlight your ability to blend professionalism with a caring approach.

Community and Relationships: Showcase your role in fostering connections and support.

Social Media Tips:

Post content that emphasizes balance, community, and supportive interactions.

Use elegant, harmonious visuals and empathetic messaging.

Midheaven in Leo (Scorpio Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be dramatic, charismatic, and authoritative. Emphasize your creative flair and leadership.

Social Media Tips: Share powerful, impactful content that showcases your expertise and creative achievements. Use bold visuals and compelling narratives to engage your audience. Position yourself as a leader and visionary in your field, using confident and inspiring messaging.

Brand Colors: Gold for leadership, royal purple for creativity, and bright red for passion.

IC Connection: Incorporate Aquarius’ innovative and unconventional ideas into your Leo-centric content. Highlight how your creative vision is informed by progressive thinking, adding a unique and forward-looking dimension to your leadership.

Intense and Impactful: Showcase your deep insights and transformative impact.

Creative and Bold: Highlight your innovative and charismatic approach.

Power and Influence: Emphasize your leadership and ability to inspire change.

Social Media Tips:

Share powerful, thought-provoking content that reflects your depth and creativity.

Use bold, dynamic visuals and impactful language.

Midheaven in Virgo (Sagittarius Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be detail-oriented, analytical, and practical. Focus on your ability to provide valuable, well-organized information.

Social Media Tips: Share well-researched content, practical tips, and detailed insights. Use a methodical approach to present information clearly and effectively. Highlight your expertise and problem-solving skills through structured posts and informative articles.

Brand Colors: Earthy tones for reliability, navy blue for professionalism, and muted green for practical growth.

IC Connection: Use Pisces’ creative and philosophical perspectives to add depth and richness to your Virgo-centric content. Combine practical advice with imaginative insights to engage your audience on both intellectual and emotional levels.

Adventurous and Insightful: Focus on exploration, learning, and philosophical insights.

Practical and Organized: Showcase your ability to apply your expansive ideas in practical ways.

Health and Movement: Incorporate elements related to well-being and personal growth.

Social Media Tips:

Create inspiring content that reflects your adventures and learning experiences.

Use clear, organized visuals and practical advice.

Midheaven in Libra (Capricorn Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be balanced, diplomatic, and aesthetically refined. Emphasize your ability to mediate and create harmonious environments.

Social Media Tips: Share content that reflects your sense of balance and aesthetics. Use a polished, graceful approach in your posts and interactions. Highlight your ability to bring people together and foster collaboration.

Brand Colors: Soft pink for harmony, light blue for balance, and neutral tones for sophistication.

IC Connection: Incorporate Aries’ boldness and assertiveness into your Libra-centric content. Show how your diplomatic approach is driven by strong convictions and proactive leadership, creating a balanced yet dynamic presence.

Ambitious and Balanced: Highlight your strategic approach and ability to create harmony in your field.

Professional and Diplomatic: Showcase your leadership and ability to handle complex situations with grace.

Success and Influence: Emphasize your achievements and your role in fostering professional relationships.

Social Media Tips:

Share content that highlights your career milestones, strategic insights, and professional network.

Use strong, balanced visuals and a professional tone.

Midheaven in Scorpio (Aquarius Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be intense, transformative, and powerful. Emphasize depth, passion, and your ability to handle complex issues.

Social Media Tips: Share content that delves into deep topics, transformative experiences, and impactful insights. Use powerful imagery and compelling narratives to engage your audience. Position yourself as an authority on complex or intense subjects.

Brand Colors: Deep reds for intensity, black for power, and rich purples for transformation.

IC Connection: Integrate Taurus’ steadiness and practicality into your Scorpio-centric content. Balance your intensity with reliable, grounded insights to provide a comprehensive and credible perspective.

Innovative and Transformative: Focus on cutting-edge ideas and profound impact.

Practical and Grounded: Highlight your ability to make innovative ideas practical and effective.

Personal Transformation: Share stories of growth and change.

Social Media Tips:

Post forward-thinking content and transformative ideas.

Use striking visuals and impactful, thought-provoking messaging.

Midheaven in Sagittarius (Pisces Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be adventurous, philosophical, and enthusiastic. Focus on your broad vision and love for exploration.

Social Media Tips: Share content that inspires and excites. Highlight your travels, philosophical insights, and adventurous pursuits. Use engaging formats like storytelling and exploration to connect with your audience.

Brand Colors: Vibrant oranges for enthusiasm, blues for expansiveness, and purples for creativity.

IC Connection: Use Gemini’s versatility and communication skills to enhance your Sagittarian content. Present your adventurous insights and philosophical reflections in an engaging, accessible way, appealing to a wide audience.

Creative and Visionary: Showcase your imaginative and expansive approach.

Exploration and Inspiration: Focus on your passion for discovering new ideas and inspiring others.

Versatility and Insight: Highlight your ability to communicate diverse insights and inspirations.

Social Media Tips:

Create content that reflects your creativity, exploration, and visionary ideas.

Use imaginative visuals and engaging, inspirational messaging. Alright! Now go and ...

[e1ysianvisions]

Cowboy Like Me

Part 1 - Dancing Is a Dangerous Game

Pairing: Cowboy!Tommy Miller x fem!reader

[Next Part] [Series Masterlist]

Summary: You've finished your final year of college and summer is about to begin, but you've got no home to go to. So, your friend Sarah invites you to stay at her family ranch back in Texas. That's where you meet Tommy Miller. He's handsome, charming and your best friend's uncle.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, MDNI, Age gape (unspecified but reader is in her 20s while Tommy is in his 30s), No outbreak AU, Grief, Mentions of loss (reader's mother), Pet names, Praise, Jealous Tommy, Unprotected piv sex, Fingering, Hand job, alchohol consumption, cowboy hat rule (iykyk), duel POV

Word count: 3.9k

You knew you were in trouble the moment you first saw him in the airport. Tousled curls, freckles, and dark circles. And the smile that graced his lips when you and Sarah approached… just magnetic.

“Uncle Tommy!” Sarah squealed, rushing to fling her arms around the man.

“Hey kiddo,” He mumbled, squeezing her tight. “It’s good to have you home.”

You stood awkwardly behind Sarah, your arms wrapped around your torso as you watched the interaction.

“And you must be our new ranch hand,” He joked over Sarah’s head, Sarah playfully slapped his arm in response. 

“She’s our guest.” Tommy only laughed, and you didn’t know whether it was due to your tiredness from your flight, but it was the loveliest sound you’d heard all day. 

“‘Course,” He peels the girl in his arms away and took a step towards you, “Tommy Miller.” He introduces himself. 

“I know.” 

“Been talkin’ ‘bout me?” He turned to Sarah. 

“All good things.” She reassured, holding back a laugh. The man glared at her before shaking his head. Sarah talks about her family a lot, she’s close with them. And from what you’ve heard, or been warned, her uncle Tommy is a real charmer. 

You tell him your name, and he echoes your response of “I know.”, and you put your hand out for a polite handshake. Tommy ignores that and pulls you into a hug instead. You leant into the embrace, he smelled of soap, coffee and something else, something masculine, something uniquely him. Tommy gives you a final squeeze before announcing, “Welcome to the family, sweetheart. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” 

“Hey!” Sarah laughs, playfully squinting her eyes at her uncle. 

“C’mon lets get your shit and get outta here.” 

The ride from the airport was quiet, mostly. Sarah fell asleep almost instantly, finally succumbing from the tiredness she’d been fighting all day. Leaving you and Tommy in a silence that was awkward but not entirely uncomfortable. You talked about your course, what you wanted to do now that you’ve graduated, you said you weren’t sure. In truth you hadn’t been sure of anything, not since your mom died. 

“You’re young. You've got time.” Was what Tommy said, smiling at you through the mirror. 

Later on that first day you all sit around a dining table for dinner, you sit next to Sarah and across from Tommy, and Tommy’s words from earlier ring in your ears, “Welcome to the family, sweetheart.” And for a second it almost feels like you're a part of one, passing condiments and engaging in conversation. Sarah is now fully awake and excitedly recalling everything she’s done since last being home. You find it unexpectedly easy to be around them, especially Tommy, who makes the effort to make you feel included. You feel a familiar, painful, emotion swell in your throat. You take a gulp of water. 

“Thankyou for dinner, and for letting me stay here for a while.” You say when everyone’s finished with their food. 

Joel smiles at you. “No need to thank us, kid. You’re welcome here as long as you need.” You smile back at him. 

After dinner you’re helping Sarah with washing the dishes when Joel comes out to the kitchen with a groan. You and Sarah both turn your heads to look at the man. 

“Tommy forgot to take these,” Joel says, holding up folded bedding. Sarah shakes her head as Joel goes to put his jacket on. 

You wipe your hands on a towel. “I’ll take it over.” You say, stepping towards him. 

“Sure? He’s just in the barn, I’ll be back in no time.” You gently pry the linens from him. 

“I don’t mind, it’s the least I could do.” You say with a smile. “The barn, yeah?” 

When you walk inside the barn, you find Tommy polishing a saddle. His brows furrowed as he concentrated on the task at hand. You allowed yourself to enjoy the view of his arms as he buffs the tan leather. 

“Hey,” You say in a small voice. Tommy looks up, eyes dragging up your frame, smiling when he reaches your eyes. 

“Hey there.” He replies, standing up. And for a moment, just a moment, you feel as though you’re drowning in his brown eyes and the honey-like drawl of his voice. 

You clear your throat. “Joel said you forgot these.” You say, handing him the clean sheets. 

“Yeah, s’pose I did.” He said taking them off your hands and walking to a back room. You don’t know why you follow him, but you do. The room is pretty small, a few storage boxes, a desk and a pallet of crates with a mattress on top. “You sleep here?” You ask.  

He looks over his shoulder as he places the folded sheet on top of the mattress. “Not usually. But we needed somewhere to put ya.” 

A sense of guilt gnaws at your gut. “I took your room?” 

“Didn’t take it,” He said, turning to face you. “I offered it.” He took a step towards you. 

“Sorry I’m putting you out.” 

Tommy just shakes his head and flashes you another one of his charming smiles. “S’fine, sweetheart.” You look to the ground, Tommy puts a finger under your chin, making you look at him. “Really. S’fine. Don’t worry ‘bout me.” You can’t help but flush at his southern charm. God, you are in such trouble. 

He then walks out the room, you suppose to continue the task he was doing before you showed up. And you should go and leave him to it, but then one of the horses peaks its head out and you help but stop where you’re standing and look. 

“I’ve never seen a horse in real life before.” You whisper, mostly to yourself, but Tommy hears. 

“Really?” You turn to face him and his eyebrow quirks up. 

“Really.” You confirm. 

“Alright then, c’mon.” Tommy nods his head, gesturing for you to follow him to the stable. The horse pokes his head out further and Tommy insensitively reaches his hand out. 

“His name’s Bandit, he's mine.” Tommy tells you, the low timbre of his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

“Gimme your hand.” You don’t think twice about obeying him. You reach your hand up and Tommy guides it to the horse. Tommy’s larger hand on top of yours as you feel Bandit’s velvet-like dark coat. The horses nuzzles into your touch, causing you to smile wide. You turn to see Tommy smiling just as wide, watching you. 

“He likes ya,” He starts. “He’s a good judge of character. And like his rider he can appreciate a beautiful woman.” He whispers that last part in your ear, the shivers from before turning into waves of excitement. “I’ll teach ya to ride ‘em, if you want?” 

“I’d like that.” Your gaze moves from his brown eyes to his lips, and when they reach his eyes again his pupils are blown wide.

Tommy clears his throat.“It’s getting late,” He says, removing his hand from yours, and moving away from your side, your body missing the warmth he provided. 

“Yeah, should head back. I’m getting tired.” You say, turning to face Tommy before you walk out. 

“Enjoy sleeping in my bed.”  He says with a wink. Oh god, you really are in trouble if you have to live with a man who makes you feel so… makes you feel. And when you climbed into bed that night  all that played in your mind was the playful glint in Tommy’s eyes as he said those five words. And you did. The sheets spelled like fresh linen but if you imagined hard enough you swore you could smell Tommy’s soap and coffee scent. 

Tommy had said that line to make you flustered, he noticed throughout the day you blushed awful easy ‘round him. But he didn’t expect it to keep him up instead. The vision of you in his bed, in his sheets. Tommy knew you were off-limits, being Sarah’s friend and all. She would never forgive him if he made a move on you. And his brother… God he’d be so angry he couldn’t keep it in his goodman pants for once. It just made the thought of you all the sweeter, a forbidden fruit to admire, and admire only. But still, it didn't mean he couldn’t make you flustered, if only to see you flushed and biting your lip. Because that’s all he’ll allow himself to indulge in. 

You liked Tommy from the first time you saw him at the airport, but you felt especially drawn to him after that first evening. Consciously seeking him out in every room you entered, asking after him, walking over to the barn to sit and drink coffee with him in the mornings. And he didn’t seem to push away your attention, which was nice. And the way he looked at you with such intensity made you feel wanted. 

You took Tommy up on those riding lessons. Bandit was a gentle, steady horse. But as soon as Tommy’s hands gripped your hips to place you in the saddle, you lost all focus. The way he touched you felt natural. Like his hands were molded specifically for the curve of your hips. And the praises he’d give when you’d got something right. “Atta girl, that’s it,” “Doing so well f’me,” “You can do it, sweetheart, that’s it,” God, it’s a surprise you haven’t fallen off the damn horse with him talking to you like that. 

It’s been a couple days since your latest riding lesson and you’re getting all dressed up for a garden party the Miller’s were hosting to celebrate Sarah’s graduation. You wore a simple white dress, a denim jacket for the chilly night air and some boots Sarah gave you once she realised you did not have the right foot wear for a ranch. You ruined your white sneakers helping with mucking out the horses your first week at the ranch. 

Once you left the house your senses were immediately filled with the smell of meat on the grill. 

There was a tent-like thing providing some shelter incase of rain and you made your way underneath where people were dancing to the music blasting from the speakers. 

In between eating and drinking Sarah introduced you to her friends and the other people attending the party, other ranchers, business owners from town and a ranch hand that was way too charming for his own good. His name is Brody or something. 

As the sun begins to set, the music slows down and couples begin to dance. Sarah goes and dances with her dad, leaving you to be a wallflower. That is until Tommy comes up to you, asking you to dance. 

“I’m not much of a dancer,” You confess. 

“I don’t mind takin’ the lead,” He teases. You flush, though you blame it on the alcohol in your system. It definitely has nothing to do with the panty-dropping smile he just flashed you. Nope. Not at all. 

“I’m not so sure,” You mumble. 

“C’mon, just one dance. Nothing dangerous.” Everything to do with Tommy Miller is dangerous, you’ve concluded. But you decide to humour him, anyhow, taking his hand and giggling as he leads you to the designated dance floor.

Tommy slides one hand on your hip while guiding one of your arms to his shoulder, before taking your spare hand in his. “See, just a dance. Nothin’ dangerous.” 

“I think with you, Tommy, dancing is a dangerous game.” He flashes you another one of those panty-dropping smiles and if it weren’t for Tommy’s firm hold of you, your knees would’ve buckled beneath you for sure. 

The song ended and one dance turned into two, two turned into three, and after four dances the two of you grabbed some more beers and left the tent. The two of you ended up sitting in the bed of his truck, talking, laughing, drinking. You end up taking off his cowboy hat at one point and putting it on your own head. You tip it slightly, and adding a drawl to your voice you say, “Look. I’m a cowboy like you.” 

Tommy laughs at you. “That right, hm.” 

“Mhm.” 

Tommy licks his lips and leans in slightly. “Y’know we have a little rule ‘round here when it comes to takin’ a cowboy’s hat.” 

“Really.” You muse, bringing your beer bottle to your lips. 

“You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” You nearly spit out your beer. “I’ll let ya off this time, not knowing and all.” 

“Maybe I did know,” You reply after a moment of silence. Tommy shakes his head. “Brody told me all ‘bout it earlier.” You tease, finishing off the last of your beer. Brody didn’t but after a couple weeks of Tommy teasing you, you’re enjoying giving him a taste of his own medicine. 

“You stay the fuck away from that boy, you hear me? Already told Sarah that too.” 

You give Tommy an innocent look, enjoying the look on his face too much. “Why?” 

“‘Cause he’s a good for nothing piece of shit, that’s why. He acts all charmin’ but I know how he treats women. Don’t want’ya brokenhearted.” 

You look at him for a moment. “You looking out for me, Tommy Miller?” 

“Always.” He replied. 

You put the hat back on Tommy’s head, a little lopsided, but on. “Alright. No riding tonight, I guess.” You sigh.

Tommy laughs. “You’re trouble, girl.” 

By the end of the evening your and Tommy’s conversation took a more serious turn. 

“This has been a lovely evening. I’m sure Sarah’s feeling very loved by you two, what an amazing way to celebrate her achievements.” You can’t help the slight pang of jealousy stabbing your heart, you're happy Sarah has a family who loves her so fiercely. You just wished you had your people to celebrate these milestones with still. 

“You too.” Tommy replied. You look at him puzzled. “It’s been for you too.” He nudged your shoulder. “You graduated too.” You feel yourself begin to tear up. 

“We’ve not known ya very long, but we’re celebrating you, and your achievements, just as much as Sarah’s.” The alcohol in your system is not helping with your emotional state at this very moment. 

“I don’t know what to say, thank you.” You try to blink away the tears but one falls. 

Tommy gives you a look, his dark eyes full of emotions you can’t name. He brings a hand up to your cheek, wiping away your tears. 

“C’mon let’s get you to bed, been a long day.” With that he walks you to your room. You opened the door, and you don’t know whether or not it was due to the alcohol in your system or all the emotions you’re feeling, but you turned back to Tommy and kissed him. A soft peck on the lips that can’t have lasted more than a second or two.  

“Thank you.” You whisper against his lips. Tommy shakes his head and goes to argue but you silence him by putting your lips on his once again. This time you grew a little bolder with it. You snaked your hands up his arms and tangled them in his curls, moaning into the kiss when his hands landed on your hips. 

When you broke apart and you looked into his eyes, Tommy looked at you as if you’d just given him the stars. An overwhelming feeling bloomed in your chest. 

“Goodnight Tommy.” You said, turning to go into your room. 

“Goodnight, Sweetheart.” That should’ve been it, you should’ve walked into your room. But you hesitated before crossing the threshold. 

Tommy should have stopped you. Wasn’t right on his part to let you come onto him in that state, drunk and emotional. But he was only human. Your soft lips, the taste of beer and cherry lip gloss as he explored your mouth. And the way you seemed to lean into his touch… he was only so strong. And he’d had a few to drink himself. His lips crashed into yours once again as he pushed you into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. The two of you kissed each other with such hunger, hands exploring each other's bodies. This would be a good way to get you out of his system, he thought, before all this sexual tension caused him to do something stupid... well something more stupid. Besides, you both can blame the alcohol in the morning. 

Tommy’s hands gripped the fabric of your dress. “Off, now.” He commanded. You watched his gaze dance across your body as you let the fabric pool around your ankles. He stares at you, pupils blown wide and with such intensity it leaves you breathless. You pull him in by his big, silver belt buckle. “Your turn.” You say, keeping eye contact as you undo the belt. All the while Tommy starts unbuttoning his dress shirt. It’s an intimate moment and the world outside these four walls fades away. You continue to strip him until the both of you are in your underwear. 

Your lips are attacking each other once more as you fall into the bed, cowboy hat long gone somewhere on the floor, Tommy’s lips move to explore your jaw, neck and when he reaches your chest he unclasps your bra in one swift, practiced motion. 

“Fuck,” He mumbles, leaning into to suck on your nipple. Your back arches, pushing into him as you tug the curls at the nape of his neck. His hands slowly slide up your thigh. Pushing them open before moving your panties to the side. Tommy groans at the feeling of you. 

“You’re so wet, sweetheart.” You gasp as you feel his fingers move between your slick folds. 

“S’all for me.” His brown eyes bore into yours with such passion it compels you to look away, flustered. Tommy uses his free hand to grab your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Look at me as I’m fucking you with my fingers, honey, or you don’t get my cock.” 

You moaned as he dipped his first finger inside of you. Tommy’s hand moves to clamp over your mouth almost as quickly. 

“Quiet, sweet girl,” He whispers in your ear, “Know from experience these walls are thin,” You don’t have time to ask him what that means when he’s knuckle deep, massaging that sweet spot inside you. 

You writhed beneath him as his thick fingers began opening you up, his thumb toying with your clit. Your hips moved in rhythm with his fingers. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl.” He praises. You clawed at his shoulders, urging him to move faster as you grow closer and closer to your peak. And when you finally cum, you cum hard. Moaning into his palm as Tommy coaxes you through, singing praises into your ear. 

“That’s a good girl.” You hear Tommy whisper as you come down from your high, he kisses that spot behind your ear, finally removing the hand on your mouth. You grab ahold of his face, bringing him in for a kiss. Nails scratching his back as he presses into you. You feel him, he’s hard and dripping and wanting. It makes you feel good, knowing you’re the cause of it. 

Tommy removes himself from the kiss, finally sliding your underwear down your legs, before he stands up to rid himself of his. He’s big, bigger than anything you’ve taken before. When Tommy crawls back on top of you, “You’re so fucking beautiful,” He muses, using his calloused hands to spread your thighs, kneeling between them. Then he’s thrusting between your slick fold, coating his cock with your wetness. You whimper when the head brushes your sensitive clit. 

“Wait,” You breathe out before he enters you. You move him so that he’s on his back, you straddle him and take his cock in your hand. “The rule was I ride the cowboy, right.” You smirk, going to place a chaste kiss on his plush lips, pumping his thick length in your fist. 

“You need to wear the hat, sweetheart.” He groans. You fish the hat from off the floor placing it on your head. Tommy flashes you one of his lopsided, boyish grins and you can feel yourself getting wetter and needier by the second. Tommy has made a real mess of you. 

“You gonna ride me or what, cowgirl.” He murmurs against your lips, taking a hold of your hips, guiding you to sit on his dick. Using that same, steady grip he uses in your riding lessons. You kiss him hard as he stretches you out, muffling all your moans with his lips. As you begin to move, his hands digging into you impossibly tighter. Tommy’s head tilts back, cursing through gritted teeth. The feeling of you gripping him is almost overwhelming. You use this opportunity to attack his neck, your hands exploring his big shoulders, his chest and his soft tummy. 

As you get closer to your second orgasm, the more your body begins to ache. Tommy’s hips meet yours in every thrust and one of his hands came down to where your bodies joined to play with your sensitive clit. You came for a second time, biting into Tommy’s shoulder as you fucked yourself on his cock. 

As you were coming down, Tommy rolled you onto your back as he started fucking you hard into the matress, chasing his own high. The hat is once again discarded, in truth you had no idea when or where it went, the only thing you can think of is Tommy. His scent filling your lungs, his lips on your flushed skin, his cock filling your pussy perfectly. 

When he’s close and his thrusts start to become sloppier he pulls out, fucks his fists before coming on your stomach. You welcome the weight of him as he collapses on top of you. The two of you catch your breath as your fingers draw patterns on his back. 

“Shit, sweetheart.” Is all Tommy can manage to say through laboured breaths. 

“Good?” You ask. 

“I’m in fucking heavan.” He mumbles nuzzling into your chest. 

Once the two of you caught your breath, Tommy went to fetch a damp towel to clean you up. When he was done he started to collect his clothes. You sat up and reached for his arm.“Tommy.” You whisper. He gives you a half-smile. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I gotta go if we don’t wanna get caught.” You know deep down that he’s right, but it still stings. You tug at his arm. “Stay,” You plead. “Just until I fall asleep. Please.” 

Tommy knows he shouldn’t give in, he’s already done that too much tonight. But you’re looking at him with big, hopeful eyes and he knows he can’t say no to you. And so he stays, until you fall asleep. And a bit longer after that. Probably too long. But he likes it too much, you in his arms, in his bed, the gentle rise and fall of your chest and you dream. Tommy’s dreaming too, of the two of you meeting under different circumstances. One where you’re not Sarah’s best friend and off-limits. One where he can openly want you. 

~~~

Ahh this is my first time writing on here, I hope you enjoyed it!