#but i am still skittish about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

always-a-slut-4-ghouls · 3 months

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My sixth grade teacher read us a story where someone got stomped to death by a moose (the only other thing i remember about the story was learning about snow blindness) and I’m just supposed to not be scared of moose? I think I’m more scared of moose than I am of grizzly bears. There are guides about how you can survive grizzly bears and how not to set them off and it’s pretty straightforward. Sure, it might not always work, but I’ve usually been ignored by grizzly bears. Moose have the anxiety of a prey animal though, even if most of the predators that went after American megafauna went extinct several thousand years ago. They still have predators, yeah, but adults are basically tanks that can easily handle different types of terrain. They are huge and they aren’t as cocky. They are also a bit less predictable. I don’t hate moose, and I’ve encountered more of them than i have grizzly bears (more black bears than both combined though, but they are fairly easy to exist around without panicking imo) but the moose scare me more. And the mom ones are more defensive than normal and male ones get all heated when they’re horny and if I’m not completely terrified around bears (most, I’m not going anywhere near polar bears if I can help it) because I listen to safety guides and I know all I can do is try to avoid either of us getting aggressive, I should probably be okay around moose, right? I mean, I listen to the advice about them and I’m careful, but no. Your sixth grade teacher reads a book where a guy gets trampled into some pile of viscera and you aren’t taking anxiety medication yet and suddenly you’re probably traumatized and are now scared of moose for life, and in a way that you aren’t scared of a lot of other animals. It doesn’t help that they can be a bit less predictable than bears and that the prion disease makes them a mess. I don’t really have anything against moose, I wouldn’t want to hurt one, but I’m also terrified of them in a way that I’m not scared of many other animals. Most of the other animals I’m scared of were also ones I learned something traumatizing about before I was medicated, but moose are the ones I run into most (aside from rodents but for some reason they aren’t as scary? Probably because the scary part isn’t the rodent themselves, but the haunta virus) so it feels like the most pressing one. I’ll be hiking (or sometimes just existing outside of town) and then a moose will show up and the people I’m with will be like “woah! Cool! Don’t you want to take a picture? You do photography” and I’m shaking a little because nope! I am not getting closer to the moose. I’m aware that they are 30ft away, that doesn’t mean that I’m not still scared.

#emma posts #not sure why the moose thing fucked me up so bad tbh #most of the living things that scared me for life at that time were diseases #part of it is how relaxed a lot of other people are around the animals #like. don’t you understand? that is a creature of terrifying power! (me being totally normal about moose)#or as Europeans would call them. elk.#I’m more chill about draft horses and I’ve actually had one step on me fr #it was fine. I was very small and they were backing out of the stable #and I think they felt something weird under their hoof because they didn’t step hard enough to break anything #and it was only the front of my foot #I’m good with horses though. it’s like anxiety disorder to anxiety disorder communication #and sure. a lot of wild animals around human size could kill me. but the other ones around here I’ve just been around more I guess #I haven’t actually seen a mountain lion in the wild though so that would be tense and interesting. if there are any animals I know how to #read it’s cats. I am also usually interacting with significantly smaller ones. and they leave scratches on accident #mountain lions are skittish and I can read cats but I wouldn’t want to fight one or anything #all of this and I’m still the most scared of moose 🤦‍♀️#me around other local wildlife: these are wild animals and you have to behave properly around each species #me when I see moose: I am in fear and trying very hard to not get any attention at all #that book really did just fuck me up about that species for life wtf #and I’m not about to do exposure therapy with a moose! how would that even happen?!#even bison I’m like ‘they could totally kill me but all you can do is be normal about this’#as in. normal for people who know animals and don’t want to piss them off and die. not whatever the selfies at Yellowstone people are doing

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vidavalor · 7 months

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The pub scene is even funnier when you consider that poor Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets has likely had this longtime pash on Aziraphale and, like everyone on Whickber Street, he has no idea who exactly The Ginger Goth With The Old Car is. He knows the prevailing theory is mafia but Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets has seen Ginger Goth hanging around Mrs. Sandwich and her "Sandwich Shop" and also around the bookshop a bit and also some naked guy was also at the bookshop recently, so... what's the likeliest conclusion drawn by Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets? That the old bookseller's lonely and paying for it.

He sees them come into the pub and thinks Aziraphale is classy like that and is taking the sex worker for a drink first or maybe that's part of it-- he's gone the whole 'boyfriend experience' route. Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets sees Aziraphale with that chest stroke of that Thin Dark Duke he's paying and while Mr. Brown (of Brown's World of Carpets, just FYI) isn't here to judge and gets it as he's lonely, too... and while he does think the bookseller picks some hot ones... he wants to give Mr. Fell the real thing. The kind of love you can only get between two middle-aged, still-sorta-closeted queers like they are. He'll be someone the bookseller can talk to and find some genuine chemistry with, Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets will be, so he decides to shoot his shot and knows the bookseller is skittish from their past interactions, so he goes for the meeting option. He'll have to come over to drop off the chairs, of course. Give them an excuse to talk more, alone, when Mr. Fell is not, erm, entertaining.

And poor Mr. Brown--President of the Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Traders Association, Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets is-- fine, upstanding, boring as all holy fuck fella... He's met by Crowley coming over with drinks and a greeting that says this is neither the first time, nor, he doubts, will it be the last that he's had to Husband the bookseller but again, Mr. Brown of Oh, You Know By Now thinks this is a bit, so he's not intimidated.

"I was just absolutely hitting on him for real, unlike you," is what he basically told Crowley when explaining what they were chatting about.

And Crowley's like lol you got him flustered enough to host this meeting. Good on you, Mr. Whoever the Fuck You Are from Whatever Shop You Run. Look at you *go*. 😍 I've got a new favorite human, Aziraphale.

He's all "you astonish me" to Aziraphale, teasing him like you're leading the poor, balding bastard on, angel. I know it's hard for you to reign in your divine sex appeal but you should maybe try. His heart is only human, after all.

Mr. Brown still thinks Crowley's a sex worker though so he doesn't give up and is all like remember, Mr. Fell, our date is right after work on Thursday in a group setting to set you at ease but I'll see you first to set it all up because I want you and I want to make sure you know I'm not just here for the business meeting.

Crowley: That's it-- I'm adopting you, Ballsy Mr. Carpet. I like your style. But you'll never wear my angel down. We've been married for 6,000 years. I am definitely up for saving you from some demons on Thursday though and making it rain on you and literally any fruity, single shop owner in the greater metro area next season. You're on the deck after my shop lesbians. Now piss off, Mr. Barnes. We haven't been to the pub in ages and you're in my seat.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #mr brown #of Brown's world of carpets #good omens 2 #aziracrow

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princessbrunette · 1 month

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jj x deer!reader... 💭

౨ৎ👛 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ🧋

he really tries not to frighten you with his sudden outbursts because he knows how skittish you can be. he’ll jump up with an idea before quickly whipping around to see if he startled you, it’s habit.

one time he got real mad at john b, and they yelled at eachother — which you didn’t like. you decided you needed some time alone, sat by a tree outside the chateau, reading. you’re broken from your trance when jj squats slowly infront of you, adjusting his cap with a guilty expression.

“so, i may have gotten a little outta hand back there.”

“you were real mad.” you observe with wide eyes. there’s empathy there, he can see it — which is why you had decided it was best to remove yourself from the situation.

“did it… freak you out?” he picks up a twig, fiddling with it instead of looking at you.

“little bit. but it’s okay. i still like you and stuff.” you smile, which gains his attention once more. his lips flicker upwards into a smile, eyeing you.

“yeah?”

“yes.”

“well that’s just great, sweetcheeks. still like me enough t’gimme a kiss or am i in the dog house?”

you lean forward, pressing your lips to his. you pull away slowly, pensively — and he stares at you, antsy as he waits for you to speak your mind.

“i’m hungry. you taste like pretzels.”

“oh, right. well let’s get you somethin’, lil lady.” he holds out a hand, helping you off the floor. “what you readin’ out here anyway?”

“a book about human mutilation in the late sixties.”

“sick.”

౨ৎ👛 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ🧋

#anon #jj maybank prompt #deer!reader

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froody · 3 months

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I went to the shelter today and met several cats. A beautiful 3 year old black kitty who had been surrendered for urinary issues, a very sweet very handsome 2 year old tabby man. They were both fantastic cats with fantastic personalities. I liked them both and was having a hard time deciding. Then they told me there was a very skittish 4 month old tortoiseshell kitten at the PetSmart.

I go there and she’s catatonically hiding in the corner. I get her out and she clings to me like a shipwreck survivor. I knew she was the one. The other cats were so sweet but she was utterly petrified being in that environment. Her nose was runny, her eyes were crusty, she was so scared her little body was like stone. I had to put her back to fill out the paperwork and when the employee grabbed her too roughly to try to take her out of the cage, she SHREDDED that woman.

I got in the car like alright, feral kitten. I’ll figure it out. She’ll come around.

She’s not feral. She’s a precious little angel. She started purring moments after I started petting her. She’s just a shy nervous girl who spend the past two months of her little life in a hell-ish overstimulating environment.

I don’t know about her early life. She’s been spayed, she’s up to date on her shots, she’s FIV negative. They gave her a course of antibiotics for the eye crust and runny nose but she’s still sneezy and crusty and wheezy. I’m betting it’s feline herpes, one of my childhood cats had feline herpes and she always got sneezy and crusty when she was stressed out. I’m going to give her a little period of adjustment and then get her set up with my vet and tested to make sure that’s the problem.

She’s currently hiding under my bed. I can hear her moving around periodically. I’m letting her adjust, decompress and get used to my presence. She will be a challenge. I look forward to loving and knowing her. I think what she needs is peace and quiet and I am like the most peaceful quiet owners a cat could possibly have. I don’t know what toys she’ll like, if she’ll be a candidate for leash training, what her favorite treats will be. We’ll have to get to know each other.

Her name was Holly because she was a December intake. I have tentatively named her Daphne, partially after the nymph and partially after Daphne du Maurier because of her mystique and strange glamor.

#daphne

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pepprs · 2 years

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ykw that was exactly the thing i was vaguing about earlier this morning btw (sorry). since saturday night the whole topic of [pausing here to transform into a hideous beast because of the word my phone was trying to suggest i put after ‘topic of.’ like could this get any more meta and/or disturbing] anyways the whole topic of.. me and how i am or am not situated like.. r*mantically. it’s been multiple times every day since saturday night that it’s come up in posts i see in irl convos in photo memory reminders in shows my family is watching etc. ajd im not like mad at anyone/thing for posting / talking about it it’s just i feel like exploding a little bit between me myself and i that’s all

#purrs #i know i am 23 years old and i have a lot of life left ahead of me. but i think it’s just hard because im almost always the least #experienced / most sheltered person in the room. and some of that isn’t my fault bc it’s a product of 💖generational trauma💖 but some of it i #is ithink. im skittish like a horse. i had to cut off my life here when i went abroad and then covid hit and i think i got so used to things #being fucked up and to seeing fewer people that isolation became normal for me and now trying to push myself past that is terrifying and i #get so easily overwhelmed by socializing and i hate it but also that’s everyone rn i guess bc we are living in hell. but im skittish like a #horse. i have damaged friendships with people i really cared about because they told me they liked me and i couldn’t handle that and im #haunted every single day by the thought of how i mishandled things at 17-18 and probably caused certain individuals a lot of pain that they #may still be feeling and i want to apologize but that might only make it worse so i never can. and ofc like im jealous and insecure bc ive n #never even been like.. idk. the closest i ever got to being in a relationship was w one of those ppl and i ran away at the point that we rec #reciprocated and i just feel stupid and defective and i hate that if i had to do it all over again i would probably do the same thing.#ive grown a lot emotionally in the last 5 years but im still so like… weak in some ways and there’s common sense / natural compassion things #that i can sense Wojld make sense to do but i just can’t. i am not a good friend or family member right now and so how on earth could i ever #be a good partner to someone. but also uhmmmmmmmmmmmmm life is very very hard to do alone and i would like to not do it alone. and i know #there’s hope but i also like. can’t handle it. idk. it’s a mess and im just depressed about it so hopefully talking about it candidly will b #be enough to like.. eliminate the possibility of it coming up again bc it’s hard enough when im not thinking about it it’s even harder when #there are signs and reminders everywhere that i am young and inexperienced and feeling cringefail misery and doom and jealousy about it #delete later #its also fucking insane bc you grow up and realize what you’ve been missing out on bc you were a kid and it’s like how do i even get there a #and then the older adults you live with and interact with regularly rub it in your face both intentionally and unintentionally and sometimes #without malice but it’s still like… can there please not be about 15 examples of the exact thing i want that are unavoidable and inescapable #at al times by virtue of my life situation rn. in the back of my mind there is always a thread agitated by that and it sucks

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hedgehog-moss · 8 months

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Summer fun with Poldine <3 We've come a long way since her first hike, back in June! We've been going to the torrent regularly all summer and she's now familiar with the place and a lot more confident in the water. She seemed to enjoy wading in ankle-deep water from the start, but places where the water starts to reach her belly were a different story! And waterfalls were yet another challenge.

She's so brave though. She'll need to snuggle very close to you and occasionally kiss your cheek to reassure herself (the above pic also features a nervous forehead-kiss) but she'll accept to go very near these thunderously-loud unknown entities if you stay with her.

(if some pics in this post look like they were taken in 1897 and then colorised it's because they are screenshots from videos that were sent to me in low quality so it wouldn't take 2 days for my weak wifi to download them)

Another important Poldine fact (besides her bravery) is that despite being 18 months-old she's still a bit of a toddler : she thinks Only She is cute enough to be allowed to be annoying. She'll happily stomp her little foot right next to you to splash you with cold water, but SHOCK and OUTRAGE if you do it to her. Here I am gently sprinkling her with 5 droplets of water and she's swerving away from me in the most dramatic and indignant way

She's looking at me in the exact same way she looked at Pyrgus in this post. The Pampoldine Death Glare.

There's an impenetrable jungle of blackberry bushes on the way home from the torrent (every year the first task of summer is to open a path through it all over again), and lately she got used to stopping there for a reward-snack after every swim.

You need good reflexes if you want to eat some blackberries yourself because by the time you've spotted a nice ripe one, Poldine will have spotted it too and she'll reach for it with her long neck over your shoulder swift as a rattlesnake.

Another cool Poldine fact is that if she overhears me telling my visiting friends or cousins "You'll see, we've made so much progress, she goes into the deep water now!" then it will be the day when she refuses to do so and pretends she has never seen this stream in her life.

(warning: nothing happens, I'm just like hey Poldinou you should come here where it's deeper, the water's so nice and safe and refreshing and she's like I don't believe you ://) (2 min after this video ended, she abandoned me and hurried back to the bank in a fit of panic for absolutely no reason.) (something touched her foot underwater) (allegedly)

On the other hand if she overhears me telling people "well I don't know if she'll go in the water with us, sometimes she's skittish about it" then it will be the day when she throws herself in like a delighted duck, taking everyone by surprise.

Just like Pampe when she was so polite with the shearer it was almost disturbing, right after I described her as a difficult llama. Pampérigouste has taught her daughter the benefits of being unlikely forever and Pampoldine took it to heart, in her own ethical way.

#crawling along

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eiightysixbaby · 3 months

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oooo okay so i have a request! i recently got high for the first time lolz and can u write like first time high w eddie but the reader was super anxious and paranoid and like just cute fluff

NEED TO RECOVER FROM THAT BC IDK HOW HE DOES IT

i am writing this as someone who has never been high so i hope it sounds realistic LMAO. i wrote this as best friend!eddie that leads into some fluffy, flirty territory???

cw: just fluff and weed smoking lol

“you don’t have to do this, you know. I’m happy to go smoke outside real quick, leave you completely out of the way of it,” eddie says, interrupting the nervous chewing of your lip you’d been doing as you stare down the joint in his hand.

your eyes meet his briefly before flicking away again, bringing a fingernail up to bite at.

“no, no I want to,” you reply, sounding more like you’re convincing yourself than him. “I’m just nervous.” you lie back on the couch with a groan. “why am I so fucking nervous?”

“it’s your first time. you don’t know what it’s gonna feel like yet. it’s normal,” he says calmly. “I promise you though, it’s gonna chill you out. I wouldn’t suggest you do this if I felt like it would be awful for you.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” you mumble into your hands that are now covering your face. “okay, I’m ready,” you decide, moving back to a sitting position.

you watch as he pulls a lighter from his back pocket, flicking it a few times before the flame appears. he holds it steady at the end of the joint, letting it ignite before he takes the first hit. it’s so natural for him, effortless, and you’re a little jealous of him in the moment. he holds it out to you, letting it rest between two fingers, his expression calm and patient as he waits for you to take it.

you reach for it, looking at it questioningly. “okay, so… how does this work?” you ask.

“well, you’re gonna inhale, and kind of hold the smoke in your mouth for a few seconds? you’ll just… feel it. and then exhale,” eddie explains, crossing one leg over the other as he leans back into the cushions behind him. “and don’t take too big of a hit. it’ll just make you cough worse.”

you nod, taking in what he’s saying. you’ve seen him smoke enough times that it isn’t foreign, but you still don’t want to make a fool of yourself.

raising the joint slowly, you let your lips wrap around it. your hand trembles slightly, wanting to look cool and natural under his stare. you feel like you barely inhale at all before you’re spluttering, coughing as tears well in your eyes.

“you’re okay,” eddie says, patting your back with a firm hand. “promise it gets better, you’re just not used to it.”

you take a few steadying breaths, the coughs subsiding. his hand remains on your back, rubbing soothingly. determined now, you take another hit, having more success this time.

you can feel warmth tingling your insides, burning your lungs in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant but isn’t yet completely pleasant either.

it’s not long before you’re slumped into the sofa, eyelids heavy as the high fully settles in. the only problem is, it seems to be having the opposite effect of what eddie had said. you fidget with your fingers in your lap, picking nervously at your nails. you haven’t spoken a word, thoughts racing in your head. the wind picks up outside, leaves rustling as rain begins hitting the roof of the trailer. you jump, breathing slightly erratic as you sit up straight.

“hey, you okay?”

eddie’s deep brown eyes look at you with concern, not used to you being skittish.

“I feel like… I don’t know. I’m super fucking in my head right now, I thought this was supposed to calm me down—”

“hey, hey,” he interjects softly, a hand reaching out to rest on your bicep. “you’re okay, alright? I’m here, it’s just me here,” he reassures, trying to get you to meet his eyes. “there’s absolutely nothing to be worried about, you’re safe with me.”

you glance over at him, brow furrowed. your knee bounces, a nervous habit.

“c’mere,” he says, motioning for you to lean into him. you oblige, curling against his side like a scared puppy. his arm wraps around you, fingers rubbing soft patterns into your skin. “what can I do to make this more comfortable for you?” he asks, feeling terrible for getting you high in the first place; whether you’d wanted to or not.

“can we just stay like this?” you murmur, letting your fingers toy with the fabric of his shirt. “you’re so comfy,” you sigh, feeling your heart rate stabilize as you begin to relax.

“yeah, sweetheart,” he hums. “whatever you want.”

he continues to take periodic hits from the joint, and you watch in silent awe as the smoke leaves his lips in quiet exhales, trailing up to the ceiling. you can hear his heart beating in his chest, the rhythmic thumping calming your anxieties. your eyes search his face; taking in his long lashes, the slope of his nose and the rounded tip of it, his pretty pink lips and the tongue that darts out to wet them every so often.

he’s so pretty. in your hazy headspace you’re unaware of how hard you’re staring at him. it helps to ground you; watching him, feeling the warmth of him.

“can I help you with something?” he teases gently, looking down at you. your big, glassy eyes look up at him in wonderment, blinking back into reality when he breaks you from your trance.

“you’re pretty,” you say before you can stop yourself, but once the words are out you find that you aren’t sure if you even care.

“am I?” he asks, moving a hand to brush some hair from your face.

you nod, chewing at your lip.

“so are you.” he leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “you feeling better now, sweets?”

“mhm,” you agree. “that doesn’t mean you can stop cuddling me though. y’have to stay here,” you insist, pouting at him as if he was trying to plot his escape.

he chuckles at your lack of a filter, smiles warmly at the way you snuggle back into his chest.

“okay, sweetheart. don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #leah’s got mail 💌

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toxicanonymity · 9 months

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like literally refreshing the page all the time for more raider!joel.. I just love him I don't know why I can't explain it he's just so..

Gun Hug

3.8k, raider!Joel x f!reader | raider master

mood board by @milla-frenchy

SUMMARY: joel spanks you, kills guys while you c*ckwarm him, and he gives you a gift. WARNINGS: I8+, canon-typical violence, horniness, dark fluff, Joel's temper, spanking, dacryphilia, humping, threat of sexual violence (not by Joel), cockwarming while Joel kills people, unsafe P in V creampie, scars/injuries, superstrength, dark fluff.

A/N: Prev. story (not mandatory): Close

When you wake up and roll over, you’re surprised to find Joel still in bed. He’s staring at the ceiling. It was a long night. The two of you killed two trespassers, then you patched him up from whatever happened before that. He never explained.

“Morning,” you whisper. You want to cuddle up to him, but you’re still skittish from the time you tried to kiss him.

He glances over at you, but that’s all. A few seconds later he mumbles, “Morning,” still staring at the ceiling. You watch his bare chest rise and fall.

“Who were those guys we killed,” you ask.

He sighs. “From another group.” He glances at you again then does a double take and faces you. His stitches look sexy. He sees you checking them out and it reminds him. His hand comes to his brow.

“Try not to touch it,” you whisper.

He reads your face and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah”

“After-” After you shot that guy Joel thought was dead.

“I’m fine,” you reassure him, and you are. He was more shaken up than you were the night before. Only because he thought you were shot.

He’s quiet for a few seconds then says, “I’d ask where you learned to shoot like that, but I reckon I was there.”

You smile and hide your face.

—---

You’re sitting in the kitchen window nook and Joel is in a chair facing you drinking his coffee, apparently still thinking about it. “One shot, dead between the eyes,” he marvels. “Moving target.” He looks at you skeptically. “You really never done that before?”

“I didn’t say that,” you quietly admit.

“What?” Joel asks. He sets down his coffee and puts his hand on his knee, manspreading. His other elbow is on the table. His breath deepens. His face has a look of betrayal, like you’ve been keeping something from him.

“Not like that,” you backtrack. “I mean, infected. . . I had to try. Everyone does."

He's quiet.

You continue, "Got lucky sometimes. But you taught me how to do it right.”

He slowly nods as though digesting the information. He cocks an eyebrow and looks at you again. It occurs to you he might be seeing you in a different light and you wonder if it's an opportunity. You’re tempted to ask if you can come on a raid again. He hasn’t taken you on one since your failed escape. You keep quiet for now.

“Do you think there are more of those men?” you ask him.

“Not sure, sweet pea.” He looks concerned. He’s not looking right at you.

“Am I staying home today?” you ask.

“No,” he says immediately. "not leavin’ you after that."

It makes your heart swell and you absentmindedly run your fingers over the letters on your chest.

—---

“Lemme see that,” Joel mutters. You pull your shoulders back so he can see and feel your whole chest, lightly running his calloused fingertips over it. You can’t see it very well from your standpoint. Only in the cracked, dirty mirror.

He grazes the mostly healed scabbing and you could swear you see a hint of guilt in his face. But then he says, “Not deep enough." He glances at your face. "Gotta be too close to read it.”

Scared he's going to 'fix it' with his switchblade, you cover your chest and whimper, “No!”

His face hardens. “What'd you say?”

“I’m sorry, I just–it hurt–and if it gets infected this time–”

He bends forward and takes your jaw in his hand. “You say ‘no’ to me?”

"I meant-"

"Get up." He releases your jaw and grabs you by the elbow to bring you to your feet. He turns you around and bends you over the window bench. Then he lifts up your dress and asks, "which side?"

You whimper, "left" because you sleep on your right. He brings back his left hand and to your surprise you feel a wave of arousal in anticipation. You look over your shoulder and bite your lip.

He hesitates for a split second and looks at your eyes then your mouth, then his hand lands on your asscheek with a sting and your yelp sounds like more of a squeak. He lets your dress down and you shrink back into the window bench, wincing as you sit down.

He bends forward and looks at you with his hands on his knees. Your eyes feel weak. He tongues the inside of his cheek and shakes his head.

“I'm sorry," you whine. "Whatever you need to do." Your eyes cloud with tears. You hug a knee, cover your chest with your hand and press your head back against the wall. "It's ok, Joel. I'm sorry."

His face softens but it's too late. A tear rolls down your cheek.

"God damnit," he mutters. He reaches forward to brush the tear away with his thumb. "Wasn't gonna cut ya. Damn." He brushes away another tear off your cheek. He sucks it off his thumb then sits down on the other side of the window bench, facing you. He brings one knee up and leaves the other foot on the floor, mirroring your posture.

"Then what are you gonna do," you sniffle.

"figure somethin' else out." He sighs and opens his arms. "C'mere."

----

He leans back against the wall of the nook. You settle in between his legs and can feel he's getting hard.

He crosses his arms in front of you and inhales your hair as he lightly traces his name on your chest. "It was for your own good, sweet pea," he justifies to himself. "You were real brave."

Then he noses the skin and hair behind your ear. He leans forward, bending you forward with him, dipping his head. He inhales against your neck then lightly caresses the other side of your neck with his fingers. You used to be ticklish there, but you guess you're not now. "We'll figure somethin’ out," he whispers.

He puts a hand on your abdomen and pulls you in close, leaning back against the wall of the nook again. His cock is harder now. He takes a deep breath and slips a hand into your neckline to palm your breast. You sigh and your head falls back against him. He buries his nose in your hair and rests his free hand on your bare knee, then slides it up your leg.

"You got nice legs, baby." His fingers drag up your inner thigh and when he reaches your panties, he lightly drags two fingers up and down the crotch, patiently up and down, with a hint of playfulness. You’re squirming under the light touch with his cock twitching against you. He continues until he feels your arousal soak through, which doesn’t take long. Both of his wrists lift your dress as his hands slide up to your hips and he hooks his thumbs into your panties. You lift your ass and he pulls them off.

He puts a hand on your lower belly again with your panties wrapped around his fingers. You scoot back, pressing yourself into him.

"Good girl." His cock swells harder. He wedges his other hand between your bodies and unbuttons his jeans–

There's a loud knock at the door.

-----

"God fuckin damnit," Joel rasps. He uses his pelvis to push you up off him, the push of his hardness making you throb. When he stands, he doesn't button his jeans. His tank top has ridden up and there's a trail of dark hair pointing down to the protrusion he doesn’t try to hide. He answers the door and holds it open with your panties still balled in his hand. It's Carter, one of the men he trusts as your guard.

"Not a good time, buddy," Joel says.

Carter's eyes fall on the panties in Joel’s hand. Joel doesn’t flinch. Carter awkwardly bumbles his gaze around then says, "well you said to let you know if Jackson came, and he finally did."

"Oh shit," Joel mutters, then his demeanor changes entirely. He springs to life.

"But I can do it for ya," Carter says. “Just take him out if ya want. I dunno when he’ll be back”

"No, no," Joel says. "Wanna do this myself."

Joel leans back and elongates his torso to button his tight pants. "’Don't fuckin' tell anyone I'm comin'. I'm still up here. Shit, I'm nowhere. She's there, I'm not. You keep'em away from the back, got it? Can you get me ten minutes?"

"You got it, boss."

“Gonna be a good day, Carter.”

Carter leaves and Joel says "Shoes on. Now."

You look at the bulge in his jeans, and your eyes must look hungry because he says, "Not now, sweet pea. We gotta move." He puts on a body holster with a pistol over his tank top while you put on your shoes.

You hold out your hand for your panties. Instead, Joel gets them ready and holds them for you to carefully step into with your sneakers already on. You and he pull them up together then he gives your ass a squeeze.

—--------

On the way down the hill, Joel explains the plan. He's going to sneak in through the back with you. He'll be in the room with you. The one with the radiator where you were chained up before. The one where you briefly had company. Carter will mislead Jackson and the others into thinking Joel is gone. Carter will pretend to be pissed at Joel and willing to let them use you. Then if (when) they try, Joel will take them out. Simple as that.

"Nothin's gonna happen, I'll be right there."

—--------

You and Joel make it into the room undetected. It feels like you’re waiting a long time. You have one wrist handcuffed but you’re not cuffed to anything. You’re laying on the cot and Joel’s sitting in front of you. “What the hell are they doin’,” Joel mutters under his breath.

Finally, you hear indistinct voices, then Carter telling the men, “Gimme a few minutes, lemme take her to the bathroom and lock her up again.”

Joel sucks in an angry breath at the implication of those words, even though this is the plan. Carter comes in and signals you to clink the handcuff to the radiator so they think you’re being unchained. Joel pats your head and whispers “It’s okay, sweetpea, go ahead.” Carter takes you to the bathroom, and on your way back, you feel eyes on you. Terrible eyes, like the eyes of monsters under a bed. Your heart races and you feel like prey. You run straight to Joel. He opens his arms for you and you get in his lap facing him.

You hug him tight and bury your face in his neck, handcuff digging into his back. Your breath is shallow and fast. Joel is facing the door and watching for Jackson with you wrapped around him. Carter comes back and says “They’re gonna eat first.”

“God damnit,” Joel says under his breath and begins to recline back against the cot. He puts his elbows and forearms down so his head is up but his back is flat on the dirty mattress. He's holding the pistol with his finger on the trigger. You’re still wrapped around him as he reclines back.

“Can I be like this,” you whisper and look up at him, still straddling his lap, folded at your hip in some version of child’s pose with your head now on his chest and arms to his sides.

“Mm-hmm,” He nods with a straight face, his eyes still glued to the door. His stitches make him look even more serious.

There's a gunshot outside and a plink. "Shootin' cans," Joel shakes his head.

-----

Joel adjusts his hips slightly and you feel his arousal swell under you. He takes a deep breath through his nose and his free hand begins to play with your dress. Again it feels like you’re waiting forever. You adjust your arm so the handcuff isn’t digging into the same spot on your wrist. Joel’s hips shift under you again and he twitches under you, still unrelieved from when your breakfast was interrupted.

Your hips reflexively roll into his and a quiet growl escapes the back of his throat. You inhale sharply and he grunts with a lift of his hips. You look up at him and he nods to where your loins are throbbing needily against each other. He rises up a little. His left hand squeezes your thigh.

You sit up and reach for the button of his pants, the handcuff dragging against his jeans. He nods. You look behind you, afraid of either of you being surprised. You start to say "I-" but you don't. You didn't mind the spanking this morning but you wanna be good for him. Your core is rapidly moistening itself, but you assume he wants head. Joel keeps his eyes on the door as you unbutton him. You stall by running your hand up and down his hardness and he lets out a low sigh that makes you twitch. A throbbing desire to have him inside you is beginning to drown out everything else.

You slowly tug the zipper down and hesitantly look up at him. Then you look behind you again.

His voice is deep and soft. “Eyes on me, baby.” Your head snaps back to face him. He only glances at you briefly before returning his gaze to the doorway.

You finish unzipping him and slide your hand without the cuff into his pants. You gasp when you hit the warm, smooth skin. He gently thrusts into your hand. You smear his precum around the tip, then begin to get off his lap to suck it. But he sits up enough to grab your arms and pull you back toward him. You scoot forward again, and he nudges your dress over his cock. Then his hips press his naked arousal against your mound and you feel its warmth through the soft, thin fabric of your panties. A wave of desire rushes through your whole body.

It’s crazy, this is crazy, and so is Joel, but you trust him. He'll keep you safe. He wraps his left hand around the base of his shaft. He has his pistol ready in one hand and his cock ready in the other. You lift yourself over his tip and pull the damp crotch of your underwear to the side, careful not to let the handcuffs hit his cock. You moan softly when the swollen head hits your dripping folds, and he sucks in a chest full of air. You take his cock in your hand and use the head to nudge your folds open, wedging the tip into your entrance with the aid of gravity as you let yourself down. You look at Joel and he swallows, eye fixed on the door, finger on the trigger.

You sink onto him and as your tight, dripping sleeve consumes his shaft, his girth pushes a moan out of you. Joel sits upright and pulls you down, bottoming out with his mouth shut, lips in a straight line, determined not to make a sound. He lets out a breath through his nose.

“Tell me you didn’t get started without me,” Jackon’s voice echoes from the hall.

"Ears," Joel whispers. For the echo. You sit perfectly still, impaled on his stiff cock and bring your hands to your ears, handcuffs jingling, then dangling from your wrist. Boots clap in the hall and a belt buckle clinks outside the doorway. Jackson chuckles darkly. Joel aims the gun toward the door with both hands, his biceps lightly squeezing your hands on your ears, further dampening all sounds.

Jackson walks in and says "whoa, oh–"

Joel’s biceps flex against the backs of your hands. A gunshot, a grunt, a cry, then another shot, and the thud of a body falling into a heap.

"That's right," Joel mutters. “Piece of shit.”

Then he murmurs into your hair. "You did good, baby." You bring your hands down to his sides.

Joel begins to rock his hips, moving you on his cock.

More footsteps approach from the hall, then a man’s voice. "Jackson? I wasn't ready, man."

"Ears." Joel stops moving his hips. His eyes are wild. He straightens up, resuming the same position as before with his biceps pressing against your hands on your ears as he points the gun. You’re sitting there full of his cock.

The other man rounds the corner. He registers who he’s looking at and gasps, "Joel." You can only imagine the look on his face. "I wasn't–" his voice is shaky with guilt and fear.

“Yeah,” Joel says darkly. “Me either.” His cock twitches inside you. His arms flex. Just one gunshot this time. Joel sighs then wraps his left arm around you, leans back, and holds the pistol against the mattress. He thrusts up into you with a wild look behind his eyes.

"Thank you," you whisper. Now you have two less of those heinous men to worry about. Probably the worst two.

Joel shakes his head and squints at you as his cock moves inside you. "'s'my job," he pants, his eyes still alive. It’s a mystery where bloodlust ends and the lust begins. "Nothin' more important," he adds.

He thrusts up sharply and you gasp. He braces himself with his gun hand on the filthy mattress as he sheathes himself deep inside you, making you so full. He moves a little further in short pulses with each flex of his hips. The pit of your stomach begins to buzz.

Carter Knocks and says, "That's it, they're leavin'. Want me to. . ." Joel doesn't acknowledge him. Instead, Joel looks at your face, watching the pleasure weigh your eyelids down as he fucks you from the bottom. You see the hint of a softer smile behind his maniacal eyes. Carter's footsteps recede.

—

Joel nudges you up, helping to lift you off his cock, and you whimper, "no." You look back at the bodies out of morbid curiosity but he wrangles you onto the mattress face down with a forearm on your back and you can't see. You lift your ass and tilt your hips for him.

"Good girl," Joel breathes and peels off your panties for the second time today. He lines himself up with your cunt again. Then he hovers over you with a hand on the back of your neck holding your damp panties against your skin.

He plunges into you with a groan and you hum “mmm.”

He retreats then bottoms out again. "Ohh, fuck." He pounds you fast and rough, grunting and breathing heavily. “Yeahh.”

You moan on the verge of bliss. He slams his hips into you harder and asks, “that feel good?”

"Yeah," you manage, the force of his thrusts punching the air out of you.

Joel grunts and growls as he rails you. He hovers over your back. Your orgasm gathers tighter and tighter with each sound he makes, each firm drag of his cock. Then it bursts in your core and you groan into your arm.

"It's ok, baby," his hips keep moving. He lowers his speed but maintains his power.

You moan as he fucks you through it.

"Fuck," he pants, and thrusts harder, "god damn, you choke it good." You sigh as your body stops jerking but continues to be pounded. “Ohh, yeah.” He slows a little more. “Ohhh, fuck.”

Joel glances across the room to the floor and begins to pull out. He hasn’t come yet. You beg "please, I want it." He pauses and tilts his head at you. “Please, inside” you plead. You look back over your shoulder at him and push your ass back, sheathing his cock entirely once again. His hair is wild and his chest glistens. The hint of a smirk plays on his face. Joel nods then slowly pushes all the way into you again with a grunt. He backs up and slams in. “Want it, don’t ya.”

“Yeah,” you whine.

“Want it to trickle down those pretty legs.”

“Yeah.”

He buries his length in you a few times fast, and you feel it coming. He slows way down. He plunges into you with a groan and begins to pulse as he bottoms out. He repeats this, slow and hard as his balls empty. You close your eyes and feel him fill you up like a hug from the inside. He vocally sighs as his cock pumps into you. Like something intimate he can’t give you any other way. “Yeah,” he pants as he finishes. His big hand squeezes your shoulder before he carefully pulls out.

Then he puts your panties back on you, and takes the handcuffs off your wrist. He sits on the edge of the cot and helps you off of it so you stand between his knees. He fixes your dress and your hair. “You did good, sweet pea.” He looks from your eyes to your mouth, then abruptly stands up. He puts his arms around you loosely, putting his body between yours and the ones on the floor as though protecting you from the scene. He nudges you toward the door and down the hall.

Joel lets you rest on a cot in the unloading room while he sorts through some things and has someone take care of the bodies. He doesn’t ever leave the room, he just barks orders and keeps you in sight.

—

That night, Joel is heating up some spaghettios and you’re in the nook looking out the window. He’s looking good, still wearing the body holster, muscles pumped up. He comes and sits down next to you. He spreads his knees and looks around the kitchen, then reaches for the pistol. He takes it out of the holster, checks to make sure the safety is on, and hands it to himself so he’s holding it by the barrel. Then he hands it to you. “This is yours now.”

“Really?” You try not to let your eyes well up in tears, but it really moves you.

Joel nods twice, then something flashes across his face and he swallows. “You’re brave, sweet pea.”

You put your arms around his neck and climb into his lap facing him with your wrists crossed behind him, gun in one hand. Joel meets your hug, wrapping his arms around you tight, pulling you into his chest. After a moment, he pulls his head back enough to plant the lightest kiss on your forehead.

Then he clears his throat and nudges you off of him. “Don’t want it to burn.” He goes back to the spaghettios.

------

RAIDER POLL

FAQ: pregnancy HC. raider has a vasectomy. so why was he gonna pull out? To use his cum for a deranged display of dominance

------

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 months

Text

Pretty like the sun

Previous chapter / Last chapter

a/n This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨ Azriel’s pov is in this one. 🤍🫧

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Nyx’s pov:

He felt choked up as he flew over Velaris. They were far away from the crowded halls, yet Nyx still felt as if someone had their hands over his neck. It pressed deeply into his throat. He tried to breathe her in. His Sunny. The only good thing about his miserable existence. She was here. With him. In his arms. Holding onto him. He felt her heart beating. Her warm breath caressing the nape of his neck. It felt like a full-circle moment when he once again landed right in front of the lake cabin.

“You’re still shaking," Zofie muttered as Nyx carefully lowered her to the ground. Even the moon up above played in her favor. Making her skin look like porcelain. Her dark hair resembled the night sky Nyx had forgotten how to love. “I’m fine," he muttered, simply not dropping his eyes away from her.

Zofie stepped out of his reach. It was a logical move. There was no reason to hold onto one another. They weren’t in the sky anymore. She could very well stand on her own. But Nyx pulled her to him almost immediately. His fingers were itching to touch her.

"Nyx," she breathed when her cheek pressed against his chest once more. “Just a bit longer," he muttered, kissing the crown on her head and letting his lips linger there before adding, "Please." Zofie pulled back from him slightly. Just enough for her to look up at him, “You’re making me worried," she breathed. Her golden eyes pierced right through Nyx’s soul. He knew why it was strange. He hated physical touch. Too much smothering from his family had left him skittish of affection. But not with her. Never with her, even if he declined her at times.

“I just..." His words came out strangled, followed by a big gulp of air. “Are you having a panic attack?” Now she was pulling back, her tiny palms pressing against the left side of his chest. “No… I don’t know," Nyx admitted, running a clammy hand over his neck. Zofie looked at him for a heartbeat. A light frown settled permanent lines into her forehead. “You’re deep purple," she breathed, reaching for Nyx’s hands instantly, deep inky wains connecting them. “What?", Nyx managed to crock out before she started pulling him towards the cabin. His eyes lingered on their joined hands. It looked as if she was pulling the darkness out of him, and that didn’t sit right with him. The last thing Nyx wanted was to tarnish her with his demons. Yet he couldn’t seem to pull his hand out of her grasp. "Purple," Zofie muttered under her breath for what felt like a thousand times before she finally turned to face him, “What can I do?”. Her eyes were desperate as she searched through the cracks in Nyx’s mask.

He knew what the logical answer was. They would both benefit if they just sat there. If they didn’t get tangled up, pulling apart would be too painful. He knew that their parents would never approve, and this would just birth false hope that they could, after all, somehow be together. Yet he still mumbled a quiet, “Hold me.”

Zofie nodded as she went into the same room they had spent endless hours in. The bed was neatly made in the middle. The big windows give a clear view of the lake right in front of them. "Lay," she said, pushing Nyx towards the bed before bending to undo her heels. “This seems suggestive," he muttered, feeling pieces of his true self surfacing. "Nyx, you ass, lay down," she snickered, pushing at his chest. But he didn’t budge. He had promised her to appreciate the way she looked, so he let his eyes linger on her body and the way that expensive silk hugged all the right places. “Don’t get fucking ideas, you hear me?”, Zofie pointed a finger at him before hiking up her skirt as she climbed onto the mattress. Nyx couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Mother above had crafted this girl in front of him. She couldn’t possibly be of the same breed as them all. No. Maybe, just like YN, she was part angel blood. Or maybe she was just an angel. Pure angel. And in that moment, Nyx couldn’t find a single reason why someone like her would want any piece of him. She straddled him with ease, and Nyx’s hands instantly reached for her hips. He was desperate to let his fingers slip beneath the material of her dress, but he held himself back. Especially since Zofie stiffened slightly at his touch, but with one final glance, she plopped her whole body right on top of his. Nyx let out a surprised huff. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Putting pressure on your chest," she said as if it was the most self-explanatory thing to do. “For?” Nyx questioned, not that he was complaining. Zofie shifted slightly, and so did Nyx, angling his head to look down at her. “What happened to your eye?”, she muttered, her delicate fingers reaching out to touch a faint bruise on his face. It was beyond him how she still saw it because he was convinced that it had almost fully faded. No one had mentioned it when he returned home from the camps.

“Just a fight," Nyx shrugged slightly. “Have you been picking fights?”, Zofie glared at him with a slight shake of her head. “You left me unsupervised," he mused, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes. “You seem of age to take care of yourself, no?”, her fingers continued to run soothing brushes beneath his eye. And then it dawned on him: “You’re distancing me," he huffed, making her smile ever so slightly. “Is it working?”, she asked innocently. His smart, smart girl. Leave it to her to know exactly what he needed.

“God, you’re pretty," Nyx breathed out after a moment of silence. "Stop," she growled, turning to hide her face in his chest, but Nyx was quick enough to catch her chin. “No, you need to know that." His gaze caught hers, and he was ready to swear that he was never going to look away. “I’m sorry that I said all of that to your father. I had no right, and you need to know how much I've regretted it ever since." The words fell out one after another. He had run over and over again in his head every single day they had been apart. "Nyx," Zofie muttered tenderly.

Nyx simply shook his head and said, “You trusted me, and I just went and spoiled it all." He felt his chest tighten with panic once more. "Nyx shut up," she huffed, cupping his cheek. “I’m not mad at you anymore," she promised. “You should be, and I deserve to be miserable," he reasoned back, but now it was her time to shake her head, “Don’t say that; never say that.”

“I missed you so much, fuck Sunny," Nyx muttered, feeling his eyes filling up with tears. His body was singing now that she was right here with him. “Do you even know how much I missed you?”, he questioned her, leaning in to press his forehead against hers. “Yeah, my heart has been aching ever since we parted," Zofie muttered, biting her lip to prevent her chin from wobbling. “Can I hold you through the night?”, Nyx blurted out, making Zofie let out a surprised gasp. “You’re supposed to hate cuddling, remember?”, she threw his own words back at him with a smirk. Nyx traced his fingers over her bottom lip, “Not with you, never with you." She inhaled shakily before nodding her head and saying, “Then yes, hold me through the night."

Azriel’s pov:

It was his first outing in weeks, and to say that he hated this party would have been an understatement. You always made it better. Filling in all the empty spaces in conversations that Azriel didn’t want to hold. Now you were back home with your daughter, and he was stuck here. How was that fair? His senses were still too sharp. That needs to protect what was only his running thickly through his blood. Until his eyes landed on the young man's, true, strong soldier’s stance. A smile tugged at Azriel’s lips.

“The uniform suits you, son," he breathed, clasping his oldest on the shoulder. Axel’s stance eased as he dropped all formalities, “I must honor our family.” And quite frankly, that’s all Axel has been doing. Azriel had told him many times that he didn’t have to prove himself to him. Azriel didn’t need titles. But Axel had stomped his foot on all that. He had been desperate to go foot-to-foot with Azriel. “You could be out there being a professional singer, and I still would be proud of you," Azriel reassured him. “Now that you mentioned it...", Axel smirked at his father, who too couldn’t help an honest chuckle.

“You’ve seen Zo?”, and it’s like all the blood had left him. His skin growing slightly greenish. “About that...", Axel sighed with a nervous laugh. “She’s with Nyx, isn’t she?", Azriel folded his arms over his chest. “Papa, you know...", Axel cut in, but Azriel shook his head. “I’m not going to say anything. Your mother said I need to get my shit together." And you did. Had sat him down for a long conversation. The thing was that Azriel didn’t hate or dislike Nyx. He was a smart young man. It was the letting go of Zofie that frightened him. The fact that she wouldn’t need him for comfort anymore. That she would find her peace within someone else. And he knew now, well after a couple of smacks on the head from you, that he was selfish in the way he kept dragging her back to him.

“He’s been missable, you know," Axel sighed, looking over the crowd. “Over what?”, Azriel asked. Only a handful of family members got through the walls the young prince had built. Azriel wasn’t a stranger to Rhys’s worried face when he would drift off mid-conversation these days, no doubt troubled by the fact that his blood and flesh was guarded away from him.

“Well, from what I gathered, Zo told him that they couldn’t be friends anymore, and Nyx practically lost all will to live." Old wounds cracked deep with Azriel’s chest. He knew that feeling all too well. You had been his light in the never-ending darkness. He had given up on joy and the future. But then in walked you.

“I think he likes her, like really likes her," Axel mused, turning towards his father. Azriel ran a hand over his stubble. “You probably think that I’m a monster for reacting the way I did." He had seen disapproval in Axel’s eyes as they all listened to her cry. Cry over the things Azriel has done. “No, I thought about bashing his nose in when I first realized that my best friend had feelings for my sister." Axel shrugged, earning a snicker from Azriel.

“So what changed?”, he asked quietly. Axel stayed silent for a heartbeat, “I think they are vital for one another. Zofie never has flare-ups when she’s with him, and Nyx... I think she pulls him out of the depths of his misery." Azriel bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hold a straight face. He had deep conversations with Axel before. On many topics. Love had been the only thing Azriel had held back from discussing. Even after a handful of years in a happy marriage, he did not feel confident enough to share what he knew.

“You’re a good friend, Axel, a good young man." Azriel patted Axel’s cheek before flicking his nose playfully. “I learned from the best now, didn’t I?, Axel said proudly. Azriel’s heart skipped a beat. Like it always did when he saw his kids looking up at him with nothing other than love. “Don’t; if I start tearing up in front of all of the generals, I will personally put you on bathroom duty," Azriel warned playfully as Axel threw him a challenging grin before nudging his father’s shoulder and saying, "I love you, Dad." Azriel put the boy in a headlock, ruffling his hair. “I love you too, Axel. Always will”.

As he pulled back, he saw something different glistening in Axel’s eyes. Not to mention that his attention was somewhere completely different. “How did you know that you were in love?”, Axel muttered. Azriel followed his gaze. A light smile tugged at his lips as he caught a girl in a gray robe hiding behind a pillar. “Nothing made sense without your mom, and for the first time, I felt as if I could show my deepest scars and the person in front of me wouldn’t run." It was the most truthful he had ever been when it came to love. Axel turned his attention back to his father; no doubt the words had stuck him deep. “It felt like coming home, Ax," Azriel muttered, watching the way little puzzle pieces fell into place for his oldest. Axel gave him a strong nod before ushering deeper into the crowd.

Zofie’s pov:

The morning sun filled the room. Warm rays of sunshine tickled the exposed skin on her back. Even with Nyx’s hand wrapped tightly over her back and providing heat to her through the night, Zofie still smiled at the feeling of the sun hitting her skin. They hadn’t talked much last night. Instead, stealing touches in the dark. Both felt the courage the moon had provided.

And now, with an early morning above them, she was watching him sleep. Staying as quiet as the mouse. Not daring to reach out and brush away his messy hair from his face. Not until the urge got too strong. She was careful. Just the moment her fingers touched his forehead, Zofie couldn’t help but frown. It was warm. Way too warm than usual. Had he fallen ill? Was it because she had stayed too close to him through the night?

Turning Zofie sat up, letting the blanket fall from her body. The worry was simmering inside her. She reached out once more. Hoping to carefully wake him up, she let her fingers brush over his warm face. Nyx’s eyes blinked open slowly, and the moment his purple orbs looked straight at her, something deep within her cracked. Cracked so loudly that, for a second, her hearing went out. She had pulled her palm away in hopes of covering her ears, only to freeze at the sight of her palm.

No. There was no way. This had to be a mistake. Maybe she too had fallen ill, considering that it felt like her own body was on fire now. “What is it?”, Nyx’s husky voice filled her senses. She watched as yellow, shimmering dust fell from his cheek. From where her palm had rested only moments ago. "Nothing," Zofie blurted out, trying to smile through the panic within her.

Nyx rolled over, his hands reaching out for her once more. “You’re too far away," he grumbled. “I’m sitting right beside you, Nyx," her voice cracked slightly, but he didn’t catch it as he snuggled deeper into her thigh. “You’re too far away," his fingers dug into her skin, “I want to be under your skin; be a part of you.”

Zofie felt the heat of his skin. A light frown ran down her face as she pulled away. He didn’t usually talk like that. Scrambling to get out of bed, she let her bare feet hit the wooden floor. Nyx let out an annoyed grumble, pulling his head up from the mattress. She caught a glimpse of his eyes then. No longer purple. No. The pupils were so dialed that they looked almost black. Wild eyes. Despite eyes. "Nyx," she breathed. “Get into bed," he muttered, sitting up.

“I don’t want to. We should go back," and it’s like she unleashed something deep within him. The thought of others unsettled something deep within him. He clenched his jaw before the back of his palms dug into his eyes. Something deep within her urged her to run. To hide, at least. She used to think that she heard her mother and dad warning her in her head. It had stopped at a certain age, but now it felt the same. So she slowly itched towards the door.

“Don’t even think about it, Zof," Nyx muttered, his voice raspy. “Don’t run, because I will chase you, and I don’t know what I will do." He let out a painful groan, making Zofie desperately want to reach out to him. “What are you feeling?”, she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Nyx laughed slightly, “You, I feel you." And then his Illyrian wings flustered behind him. Zofie nearly collapsed against the door. He always warned her before he shifted.

“You’ve been away from me for too long," Nyx breathed, moving to get out of bed. Her heart skipped a beat. Run. A voice rang out in her head, crippling her for a second before she turned back, quickly unlocking the door as she broke into a sprint. "Zofie," a warning growl rang out behind her. She could feel him. Feel the mix of emotions bubbling within him. He was practically breathing against her neck. There was no way she could outrun him. He was much faster and stronger. And driven by the force, she would no doubt lose the battle to.

Her panicked mind raced as she ran in zigzags, dodging Nyx’s hands in the shelter of trees. “Zofie, come on," he pleaded, but she didn’t even look back. She needed to get out. Get to her dad. He would know what to do. He would know what was happening. A gasp left her lips when she felt Nyx’s warm fingers lacing against her upper arm. She was screaming for a second before everything suddenly shifted, and she fell back into the pile of something soft. Zofie reached out around her blindly. Leaves. Her heart was hammering in her throat. She waited for Nyx to grab her. Waited to feel the heat from him. But nothing came. Nothing changed.

“What are you doing here?”, a voice startled her, making Zofie’s eyes fly open. Her blood ran cold for the second time that morning. Until a second figure emerged from behind the frame towering over her. “Zofie?”, a confused face glanced down at her no doubt disheveled frame. “Uncle Luci," she muttered right as the male in front of her crouched down to wrap his jacket over her shoulders.

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