#op im foaming at the mouth over this!!!

[moonrisecoeur]

i have been. debating sending this bc i know i am cringe. op i am so sorry feel free to ignore and delete bc this is just actual pure filth lmfaooo

op i literally think about pegging leon 24/7 its a full time JOB inside my brain i need to peg that man so fucking Bad its not even funny. i know hes so fucking Noisy. i wanna make him beg for my strap, i wanna fucking edge him until hes begging and crying to be fucking ruined. i wanna pretty him up, put eyeliner on him so i can make it run down his face from fucking him so hard. i wanna mark up his neck and pull his hair while i pulverize him. i wanna tell him hes taking it so well and how hes such a good boy, how pretty he looks bent over for me while i fuck his cute ass. i want him to hug me while i praise him bc hes so overwhelmed. tell him how hot it is hearing him moan and whine, encourage him to make as much noise as he wants, itd be cute to watch him try to not pillow bite because hes trying sooo hard to do what you want like a good boy. i want him to be borderline Incomprehensible, voice shaking and cracking as he tells me how much he loves me, how much he loves the way i make him feel. i wanna make him cum untouched. i wanna overstimulate him. i wanna grope his fat tits and milk his dick. i wanna make him watch himself getting fucked. put him in a collar, lingerie, fuck anything-hed be gorgeous no matter what he wears. shower him in kisses and affection and make him feel the most loved he has in his entire LIFE while short circuiting his brain n marking him with bites and bruises for everyone to see.

re2 leon is my fave man he has my heart and god id love to just take care of him. after a long shift i wanna slam him against the door and fuck him while hes still in uniform. make him feel so good. such a whiny cutie. cuff him up and bite his freckles while i fuck him late into the night, clean him up and cuddle him after, make him breakfast in the morning n give him kisses.

re4/re6/older leon is a subby bitch too. just as god damn fine and id do oh so horrific things to him. hed love it so much, not having to think, make decisions, take charge. just let me whatever i want to him. hed get off so hard being under you and told how fucking good, pretty, perfect he is. he needs your approval so fucking bad-its all that poor man wants, god he needs it so BAD. he needs to feel safe and loved and wanted, like this is Critical. id make SURE i fuck him so good he cant even think about his insecurities or problems. and dear fucking lord do not get me started on that slutty waist and button down of his in re6. he's keeping the gloves on while i press his hands into the mattress and bite his arms.

its so fucking funny bc i hc leon as a switch BUT GODDDDD SUBBY LEON MAKES ME FUCKING FOAM AT THE MOUTH LIKE A RABID, FERAL ANIMAL

its not a want it is a NEED

I NEED THIS MAN UNDER ME I NEED TO REARRANGE HIS GUTS !!!!!!!!!!!!

guhhh last anon again but now i really cant stop thinkin about sub leon. legit i have so much more to say i just love him so much. theres so much. More. i wanna say but lord. im trying so hard to be normal man 😭😭

first off. hi. hope u had a yummy thanksgiving if u celebrate it and if not i also hope ur having a good day !!

ALSO WTF WHY WOULD I DELETE THIS i literally woke up this morning and checked my tumblr notifs as one does and i literally see this behemoth of an ask and im reading through and im literally screaming bc why is this my internal monologue. like. did u get inside my head or something??? did u steal this from my brain bc i literally think about this approximately 1000 times a day.

i’ll literally be at work and my thoughts be like ughhh i wanna hurt him and make him cry but also want to love him and take care of him but also want to fuck him so so slow and deep i can feel it moving around if i put on hand on his abdomen and then i just spiral and then i remember im making a fuckin caramel macchiato or something >.<

so!! in spirit of our delusion i’m planning to write smthin for u based off of this vibe!! just give me a lil bit 👉👈

BUT TELL ME EVERYTHING TELL ME ALL UR THOUGHTS I WANT TO HEAR THEM ALL I WANT TO KNOWWWW ‘i have so much more to say’ okay prove it. tell me everything

#upcoming finals are kicking my ass so i’m slowing down for the next two weeks #of course still posting just not as frequently #obvi still answering asks tho bc i love u guys #anon

[2dmanlover]

op I loved your linger fic with omen I NEED a part two I'm BEGGING

Linger pt. 2 | Omen x Fem!Reader NSFW

part 1

cw//just smut LOL, hints of voyeurism, love confessions :>, ooc (human form) omen.

a/n- okay this is a case in which i was willing to write a part two just cos the fic and anon were foaming at the mouth begging for me to write it so here ya go <3. ALSO IDK WHAT HAPPENED TO THE COLOR OF THE TEXT IM SORRY DARK MODERS

758 words

Ever confident of your intentions, he let his head fall to the side and flashed a rare smile. The sight made you shiver and subconsciously catch your lip between your teeth. Your eyes roved over his lenten form; his hand still resting at the base of his cock, hair splayed out on the pillow case, and thin blue wisps emanating from him, all perfectly framed by the moonlight spilling through the window. 

“You just going to stand there and stare?” His voice came out gravelly as always, sending licks of electricity up your spine. Your face flushed red and hot, knees almost knocking together. Omen began to tighten his grip on himself, slowly stroking up and down, putting on a show for you, knowing how cute you look when you’re flustered. 

You couldn’t help but let your shorts and panties drop, leaving nothing but your big t-shirt draped over your perked breasts, outlining your pebbled nipples. 

Slowly you walked towards him, each step light and almost silent on the floorboards. His gaze swept over your body as he sat up on the edge of the bed, kicking his boxers off in the process. 

“How shameless,” he sighed deep, hardening under his own touch. 

You cupped both sides of his face with your hands, kissing him hard. Rough hands dipped under your shirt, smoothing down the curve of your waist. The two of you reenacting what you both wished would have happened in the hall. 

He urged you to straddle him, pulling you by the back of your thighs. You whimpered at the brush of his tip against your bare clit. Twitching under you, his kisses went rogue and sloppy. The very tips of your fingers dipped through each rift of his abs, lingering to smear the fresh load he had just spilt on himself. He pulled a tight breath through his teeth as you skimmed over the contour of his cock. 

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Omen spoke low into the shell of your ear, gently turning you over on your back. Two fingers dipped into your folds, teasing your hole and spreading your slick. Flames crawled from your core up your neck, decorating your cheeks in red; culminating in a light and shaky whimper. His broad hand followed the heat up to your throat, pinching your nipple on the way. 

You shook with anticipation, looking into his dark eyes, barely illuminated by the ambient light. Eyes shifted down to his achingly hard cock that he held at the tip, dragging it through your dripping slit. Your face heated up more with embarrassment, realizing how aroused you had gotten by watching him jerk himself off. 

“Little voyeur you are,” he chided, his gaze boring deep into you. Finally, he sunk in the tip, working it a little before sheathing himself in your warm cunt in one fluid motion. 

You sobbed out a moan of his name, stretching your head back as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you.

“Please Omen—“ he interrupted your pleas with a kiss, both of his arms planted by the sides of your head, holding up his weight. 

Each stroke became faster, your moans becoming increasingly harder to control. It wasn’t like it mattered, though, as every breathy mewl would be drowned out by the sounds of Omen pounding into you. Underneath it all, he was much more vocal than he normally was, blabbering into your ear between kisses.

“You’re so good for me,” he admitted, “so fucking good.”

“Omen, please,” you choked out between thrust induced squeaks, “make me yours– I want to be yours. Fuck– I need you.” The words tumbled out of your mouth, yet were not empty, each and every one true to your deepest desires. 

He shifted his gaze to your sticky, flushed face, brows knit together in pleasure. 

“All mine–” he cut himself off with a groan, your walls clamping down on him as your nerves crawled towards the climax. 

“I love you,” he breathed out, kissing you just under your earlobe. Your arms flew around him as the orgasm ripped through you, nails digging into the hot skin on his back. He followed shortly behind you, pulling out to release onto your stomach. 

His lips captured yours hard and passionate, something you never thought you’d feel out of him, making up for the sudden feeling lost within your pussy. 

“I love you too, Omen,” you sighed out the moment he broke away, shifting him and yourself over, slotting your bodies together.

#omen valorant #omen x reader #omen valorant x reader #valorant x reader #omen valorant smut #omen smut #valorant smut

[baahsu]

"i think im going off on a tangent now" op PLEASE go off on a tangent!! i already had the idea of reiju joining in on her brothers fun in the back of my mind and now these recent conversations have hurled it to the front

just. sanji somehow meeting up with his siblings again, jaw dropping as he sees just how *whipped* 124ji are for reiju (he has to act like he isnt as well lol) although he doesn't realize the extent of The Whippening until reiju gets him alone and quite literally hands him their individual leashes. she'd talk him through what each brother responded to better; praise, degradation, punishments, rewards... sanji going from confused horror to eager intrigue all too quickly

im so sorry for flooding your askbox but this is such a fun concept. sanji getting his revenge sweet with his big sisters help <3<3

yonji would be the best first option with him arguably being the most behaved, (but being 'well behaved' for 124ji is a loose term. the bar is in hell, yonjis just slightly above it lmao) he's all excited to please after crossing the emotional barrier between them and allowing himself to get lost in this newfound pleasure. i think sanji would agree on him being a good start too, considering how noticeably eager yonji is to see reiju coach someone else into reeling him in- and the fact that its *sanji* is better for the both of them!! *cough*sanji DEFINITELY doesnt have a kink for yonji calling him 'sanji-nii' or any iteration of the term nope definitely not*cough* ichiji and niji would watch on with hungry eyes, *knowing* what yonjis packing from previous experience. he can be wild, sometimes

next would probably be ichiji. he's compliant and mostly willing- its just very hard to get a good reaction out of him. he'd try to act sooo tough at the start, desperately trying to keep his face blank, but then his heartrate would spike and his body would get all shaky as reiju guided sanjis hands on where to touch him and how to do it, where to be gentle enough to make him melt, and where to press and bite into to make him scream. the fact that niji and yonji were off to the side, not-so-subtly whispering about how hot he looked was also *not* helping. (he secretly loves the attention >:])

aand niji. whoo boy, the brat himself, niji. theres a reason reiju started training him before the other two, and that's because hes an absolute *brat*. a bottom brat? oh, *absolutely*. but still a brat. he'd try sooo hard to get someone to touch him by being all whiny, pouty, and mouthy- they'll shut him up *somehow* if he just keeps talking, right? reiju would probably have to whisper in sanjis ear about 'leaving him out to dry until he comes crawling over, begging to be touched *nicely*'. and lo and behold, after being forced to watch reiju and sanji torture yonji and ichiji in the best ways possible, he *broke*, doing exactly what reiju said he would. but, when niji finally broke and asked? oh you KNOW that boy is getting wrecked. reiju and sanjis notable ignorance and/or mockery of him turning into sudden back-handed compliments about him being such a good boy, so polite to ask for help. yonji and ichiji watching from the sidelines, definitely wishing they could make niji squirm like that, too.

even better if at the end of it, when sanji thinks its all over, reiju decides to reward 124ji by letting them go at him however they'd like (with her supervision, of course :])

WOW THIS IS LONG IM SO SORRY ANYWAYS UHH MOMMY DOMMY REIJU FOR THE WIN SHE CAN FIX THIS FAMILY WITH THE POWER OF PUSSY ALONE 💃💃💃

Anon. ANON!!!!!!!! This is amazing??????? I'm- let me take a second to breath here, this is just so good so perfect so accurate and everything I've ever needed??? They each fit perfectly in their roles and the end was such a treat, I'M FOAMING AT THE MOUTH you captured their personalities so well I want to scream

Yonji's definitely eager, but they can't underestimate him, he's bigger than all of them and it'll only take a second if he decides to stop complying and have things the way he wants them. So while reiju gives him more leeway she also needs to keep a closer eye on him

Ichiji's so stoic and calm and cool qnd collected, it takes a lot for him to express anything and even longer for him to finally let go. Reiju needs to go slow with him, like she's dealing with a scared animal, and coax him into realizing he's in good hands and he can let go of his role as the responsible older brother for a while

Niji is a brat, he doesn't listen, refuses to admit he's enjoying it, but his body betrays him and from then it becomes so easy to tease him and make him putty in reiju's hands. If he's being particularly difficult she just ignores him in favor of the others and she can't help her smirk when she sees how dejected he looks all pouty but still refusing to beg for it until she asks him if he'll be a good boy now

Sanji watches all of it with an open mouth, he's always known the power reiju had but this totally exceeded his expectations. He doesn't know if he can control the three like she can, but he tries and it's going well until a mischievous glint crosses reiju's eyes and she gives 124ji the green light to ravish him instead

I also like to think reiju likes to pair 124ji up and watch, see how they interact with each other so she can have a better grasp on how to handle them and on what they like, and if she gets off on it too then that's just a bonus

#I SUPPORT REIJU FIXING THE FAMILY WITH THE POWER OF PUSSY #vinsmokecest #vinsmokes headcanons

[pjsk-writin]

crepe n kyoi adventures for the fathomed day when and if they work something out to hang out irl (idk i feel like this might sound pressuring sorry??  i just have it in my mind that i’d like to meet my mutuals irl at some point but its not like im gonna force you to meet up with me or anything lmao i just like the idea of it bc yk. i trust you and all

PAINTING EACH OTHERS NAILS (pink)

MAKEUP. WHEHEHE

movies + tv (and staring at milgram MVs repeatedly for hours together while foaming at the mouth at mikoto and fuuta)

pastries either making them or eating them or  B OT h. at least one

BOBA (a requirement)

SHOPPING. ghgdhfg based on… everything about you, i just KNOW you have good style and we N E E D to go shopping together. this. t h is .

covering things with stickers for no particular reason

terrorizing my brother™

gushing over our f/os for hours on end

BLAHAJ TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

giggling™

playing prsk and project diva together (i have project diva on my tv WOAH!!)

committing the murder of a certain mondaymelon

making a silly goofy secret crepe n kyoi hanshake and then trademarking it so that its OURS nobody else can haev it grgrgr

hot cocoa

staring at mikoto’s face for an hour (not) straight

staring at fuuta’s face for an hour (not) straight

staring at furina’s face for an hour (not) straight

genshin co op !!!

playing with cat. idk if you have a cat but i have a cat and. cat cafes too.

writing ff weheheh

watching some vines bc vines are prime humor you cant convince me wrong

d a  n  ci n g ?????? this ones a maybe

ok thats it,,,,, fo  r n ow.

NOOOO DW I WANNA MEET UP W MY MUTUALS TOO <33 BUT THATS SO GOOD YES PLS !??!?!?! I WOULD LOVE TO DO EVERY SINGLE THING ON THIS LIST HEHEHEHDHDJSJJD <333

#mod amia ! #silly moments !!

[xamaxenta]

I can an will cause you totally making my shitty day work so much better with all your everything!! I'm also mentally flailing cause your so awesome and nice!!! It was a double hit for me cause I think the same time I had read that Kakashi die in Naruto so it was like a double hitter from hell for my teenager brain since they both were my favs. I sorta keep my ear perked at the updates and reaction for OP to have an idea of what going on till now! and I am loving it!

Oh no not the kakashi double whammy 😭 naruto rly did a lotta fakeouts tbh and then neji…whatt the hell the greatest ninja (wrong he’s close second, it’s actually Rock Lee but i digress) in all konoha and kishimoto was like yea lets get rid of HIM SPECIFICALLY :((

I dont think i couldve handled Ace as a teenager, like mentally so im glad i have the emotional maturity to process it now… /j im lying im not over it nothing happened nothing!!!!! He’s alive and its ok!!!!

Op rn is fucking WILD im foaming at the mouth to know what happens next, i am desperate for so many answers like Law?!! Sabo bounty increase when!??????? luffy in general

[pxppinmolly-archived]

Hate making my rules longer than they have to esp when its just.. rlly like on occassion things but lowkey am like

should i rlly bother adding in my ‘DNI’ list that i wont interact with yall who have heavy CSA in ur characters backstory and muses who are aphobic --

#OOC #lIKE IT DOESNT MATTER DOES IT... #it hasnt happened a lot but im like #i dont wanna end up reading a characters bio n being triggered cus #sometimes people dont give a warning <3 #and sometimes its so obvious op has never done research or know anything that entails csa and just uses it for shock and sympathy value #and it makes me foam at the mouth n shrivel up and DIE. #and also i dont wanna be seeing muses be like #oh ur asexual? bet i can change that <3 #kinda shit im so. over it. ASLDOFKGJFDOKIFJ!!! #but idk ig its not necessary but im just like #:T

[elvesofnoldor]

the way that i’d changed one (1) thing on a hades run routine and i’d immediately played like i have never played the game before and lost the run stupid style really got me feeling epic cringefail gamer rage 

#cleared the run about a dozen times in total. having used all weapons. so i was getting better. but then i changed one thing on my routine #boom. newbie all over again! #im throwing my gamer chair at the wall. im foaming at the mouth #just kidding i have no gamer chair but for real!!!! #mae overshares #i used cursed slash on my stygius blade after not picking that hammer upgrade ever since i beat the game for the first time #and was immediately reminded why that hammer upgrade sucks ass big time #cursed slash is truly cursed. it looks like it's supposed to be op af but if you don't pick it early enough you gonna lose the run big time #to make the matter worse i pick flurry slash too. very Evil hammer upgrade. combined with cursed slash it's just extra Evil #the damage output is pathetically low when you pick flurry slash. it's like the bow equivalent of that upgrade too. you can't crit!!! #i remember i use flurry slash with cursed slash ALL the time when i was struggling to beat the game #cursed slash just conditions me to do basic attack all the time even though flurry slash makes basic attack pathetic! #and it's so funny that the MOMENT i played stygius sword without cursed slash and flurry slash. the game immediate gets easy #i could beat hades (regular version) with my eyes closed using stygius sword as long as i don't use cursed slash #well. i have to have athena's divine dash of course. speaking of which. i was trying to last couple of lengendary/duo boons #so i can get the sweet rewards on the minor fated prophecy list (side quest list) #and i didn't pick divine dash on two runs or something. had the absolutely the worst time on those runs #again. only changed one (1) thing and alas. all hell broke fucking loose. #didnt even manage to hit all the missing legendary and duo boons which are two demeter duos and artemis' legendary #the way that i immediately have trouble with the game when i dont have athena's divine dash to deflect damage for me....very sad #and demeter's boons are...well...im not good at using them. let's just put it that way. i never picked her on my run #im so sick of picking demeter boons. im only gonna go on runs without athena's dash when im using the shield and shield only

[robertisbisexual]

OP: *makes jude x noah content*

a zude fan foaming at the mouth: im not over zude!! will i ever be over zude?? UmmmMm never haha! This fic you wrote about jude and noah? It is so beautiful i cant believe the Z U D E feelings it made me feel. This jude and noah gif set? Zude. Meta post? Zude. It all just makes me wonder WHEN will ee get zero back!!! *chants* ZUDE ZUDE ZUDE ZUDE ZUDE

OP: Yike

#hit the floor #jude x noah

[yeoldontknow]

Equinox

Author’s Note: OKAY i know this wasnt meant to go up until some time next month, but i just woke up and felt this prompt down into my soul. ive been SO SOFT, thanks to a mercury in retrograde. so i worked on it today and now im deceased because i love it a lot. as usual, my snapshot style doesnt really lend itself to whole world building. so OP i hope this makes you happy!

Pairing: Minseok x Reader (oc; female)

Summary: It’s winter when you stumble into Minseok’s coffee shop, winter when he’s cold, unfeeling, and disheartened with the seasons. Little does he know, you are the winds of change.

Rating: PG-13

Warning: implied sex

Word Count: 2,247

WINTER

The day he met you was the day she left.

He was awake when it happened, the slow gathering of her things into one small duffel and the calm, empty declaration that she would come back later for the rest. The motivation to move eluded him, his muscles opposed to following her, reaching for her, calling out to her in a reckless sort of indignation. It wasn’t that he was angry, wasn’t that he was caught in despair, rather that he couldn’t find it in him to care. Not really, not after everything had been said and felt into ash.

She did not take his heart with her. No, he’d retrieved that long ago somewhere in the changing of the seasons. What she took instead was his empathy, his willingness to give love freely. With her, it had died, withered over the course of many years until all he had was an apathetic sort of affection, the kind he said with words he didn’t mean.

Long after she was gone, when the grey light of the morning spilled through the curtains of his window, he sat upright on his bed and regarded the way the room remained unchanged. As if she had gone on vacation. As if she had gone to visit family. As if she would return. He glanced sidelong at his disenchanted life with a scowl, waiting for colour to return to the walls, the room, his heart, his life. Winter was like that, he supposed, a succubus both of good intentions and the gold of the sun.

A cold rain had spilled over the city, frigid in its intent to cleanse the street, his shop, his memory, perhaps even his heart. The storm looked as he felt, bitter in its deluge and bleak in its sentiments. People bustled in and out, grim and scowling, shaking the rain from their hair and hats, gloved hands clutching warm drinks and placing tips in the jar as thanks. The world was moving and turning, but his world was stopping.

You pushed through the door with a laugh, even though you were alone. Melodic and gleeful, you stumbled through with a light that made him feel as though he was eclipsing the sun. It wasn’t that you blinded him, it was simply that you warmed him, touched something inside him that felt dusty and untouched with your smile. It wasn’t that you blinded him, it was simply that you moved him, however insignificant it had been at the start.

When you ordered your coffee, you told him a lot of things: you told him you were lucky to have found his shop, you told him you were new to the city, you told him you weren’t used to rain in winter. You told him a lot of things but he told you nothing, simply nodded and watched the way you eyed the croissants with a passionate sort of stare. He gave you one for free, though, even now, he is unsure why.

What he remembers most clearly, though, was your yellow hat. Truthfully, it told him more about you than any of the words you had given him. It told him that you rejected black as a winter shade, defying all the rules of the season as though they didn’t pertain to you. It told him that you would stand out in a crowd, easy for him to find and easy for him to see, yet, somehow, you had found him first. It told him that luck came in many shapes and sizes, and on that day, it came in the form of a smile.

On you, he decided, winter didn’t look right. It tried to move around you, bend you, and change you, but you were steadfast in your refusal to succumb to the gloom. On you, winter didn’t look right, and so gave you a star in the foam of your coffee instead of the seasonal snowflake. And the look you gave him when you saw it, the way your mouth pulled into a wide, cheshire cat grin, kept his insides warm well past the melting of the last flake on the earth.

SPRING

The trees were restless in their anticipation of and desire to bloom, similar to the way he had grown restless in his anticipation of seeing you. It took him a week to ask for your name, three realize that yellow hat was a staple of your wardrobe, and only two days for the hope you would become a regular customer to blossom in his chest like a sunflower.

The playfulness in his tone was half serious, perhaps mostly serious, when he asked if you kept coming back to see him. The playfulness in yours was absent when you said you did. That was his Valentine’s gift, two words and a fistful of implication. He clung to it past the Ides of March, too nervous to test the waters again, but when you came through the shop at the start of April, tights and a skirt and the freedom of your skin beneath the spring sun, he stopped thinking of you has a lucky star and more as a beacon.

You never ordered the same thing twice, spent weeks working your way through the menu, and he spent lonely nights coming up with new blends and flavors just for you. He said you were off the menu, and you said it was an odd nickname but you liked it, took ownership of it the way one takes ownership of their dreams. There was no way you could know truly unexpected you were, unpredictable and unplanned, and wholly surprising. There was no way you could know that your ease into the name turned you from someone special into someone remarkable.

He thought you were brave, then, in all the ways he wasn’t. Wild, free, alive.

You never ordered the same thing twice and every week, tucked tightly beneath your arm was a different book. One week was Hemmingway and another was Danielewski, your mind moving between eras and genres as if time was your plaything. Most would be impressed, many would be surprised, but he expected it of you. The laws of the universe were blown apart by you, your uninhibited originality turning them to dust at your feet.

You never ordered the same thing twice and every week had a different book beneath your arm, so when he questioned what your favourite was, for both the book and the coffee, he thought for sure you’d have an answer or an opinion. You did, but your even diplomacy, kind eyes and your soft tongue, made his heart stutter in its rhythm.

How could I choose, you asked, when every work of art is perfect?

With a laugh, he told you to remain subjective, and you said you were, that it was unfair to judge a thing that bent to subjective will. For hours - hours alone and hours in bed - he thought about that, thought about you and what it meant to be perfect, subjective, and inspiring. Days later, he would work up the courage to ask if you thought he was perfect based on your prior argument.

You said he was.

Days after that, he asked if you thought you were perfect. You bit your lip for a long while in thought, remaining humble while also too wise for your young years. Finally, you said, someone must think so. There was a knowing look to your gaze, a fire deep within your irises that emboldened him.

Instead of your name on the cup, he wrote his number.

Instead of a flower in the foam, he made a heart.

SUMMER

Hand holding in the heat of July always made him uncomfortable, made his skin sweat and slick with too many things that were beyond his control. Always, he would pull away with a shake of his fingers, wiping away the sweat, the person, the sensation of being swollen with purpose from his joints. Always, he would say, I know you are mine and affection can wait until we are not damp with the fever. He would never clarify which heat he meant, the weather or his wanting. He never wanted his partner to feel let down.  

With you, it was different. It isn’t that he expected it to be, or even wanted it to be - he had grown into notions of romance, unchanged and unmoved in his age based on the ideas of what he liked, what he wanted, and what he had experienced. The same way you broke the laws of the universe, you broke all the laws he had set for himself.

On your first date, he wanted to kiss you, and you let him. You surrendered to it first with your heart, and then with your mouth, and he swallowed all of it whole.

On the first day of the summer heatwave, he had reached for your hand and shivered the feel of your wet skin. It brought him back to the day you first met, your hand cooling him and pouring over him like a storm.

In the sweltering humidity of July, he layed with you on a blanket and told you he loved you, loved all the parts of you he knew and had yet to discover. The secret parts, he said, were the most exciting and the most beautiful.

In the sweltering humidity of July, you told him you loved him too.

That night, his air conditioner broke. It rumbled to a halt and let the evening sun pour into the bedroom, turning the walls into a greenhouse that blossomed with orange, red, and devotion. He thought of it that way, as he made love to you, sweating into the sheets as he held your hand, tasted your skin, licked the perspiration from your brow. He thought of it that way, as he moved within you and let you move within him, filling all the empty parts of him that had been temporarily sealed until he could feel again. Until he could feel you.

Hand holding in the heat of July made him uncomfortable, but with you, he didn’t think there was ever a time when he’d get enough of your skin. It wasn’t that he wanted to hold your hand, he wanted to hold all of you, completely, with all of him until there was no way to tell where he ended and you began.

Some time in May you stopped ordering hot coffee, switching instead to iced drinks, drinks in which he couldn’t leave images in the foam.

Not that it mattered. He’d started leaving marks of his love on your skin well before the season, and those were far less transient.

AUTUMN

Autumn was unprecedented, simply because you were in it. True, it was always his favourite and always took him by surprise, how brilliant the world became, but watching you move through the death of the world made him start to believe in magic. He’d spent seasons with you thinking this was it, that there was no way he could love you any more than he already did. That there was no way you could look better in a season than the one that came before it. But always, you did.

Always, you did.

Two weeks into October, he decided that Autumn looked best on you, your hair, your skin, your lips. Still, the yellow had remained but it made all the world around you gold. Brown didn’t exist in this new world, instead you turned it burgundy, plum, and bronze. For him you made the world into all the best shades, made apples more crimson, made the night more purple than black. That was the trick, he thought, your magic was the slow making and taking of the world, the giving of life and the taking away to leave behind something more profound, something more desirable in its wake.

Cinnamon was how he came to describe the season, the smell of it in the air as you baked and the taste of it on your skin as he kissed you, hungry for the light that splayed across your shoulders, your back, your neck. Cinnamon was what he started to call you, changing your name each season to match your whim. It lingered in his bones, even when the cold wind threatened to steal it from his tongue. It lingered in his heart, even when the days grew shorter and the frost grew stronger.

He started brewing his coffee with cinnamon, feasting on you even when you weren’t there, gone from him to move throughout your day, until he could have you at night. As a consequence, the shop smelled like you, long into the day, until the first customers of the evening rush arrived. Drunk on the memory you, he would serve and laugh easier, smile brighter, feel more like the man he left behind in winter.

Always, you would come to him before the end of his shift, making you the last coffee he would serve.

Always, you would order something different, something to keep him on his toes.

Always he made you a snowflake in the foam, his way of letting you know he was ready. Ready to see what you could make of destruction. Ready to see how you would make a rainbow of the white.

Always, you were the changing tide of the seasons of his heart.

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