#Island Style Bags

[thelocalbanyan]

Dive Into Style: Deep Blue Accessory Bags for Your Essentials!

Organize your essentials in elegance with our Deep Blue Accessory Bag. Crafted for both style and practicality, this bags are a must-have for the fashion-forward individual. Dive into savings with a special 20% discount on your first order. Shop now at The Local Banyan and elevate your accessory game!

[thestylesplash]

Denim Days - April's Thrifty Six Challenge

Happy Monday! I hope you had a great weekend. The weather has been all over the place these last few days – typical April weather I suppose. We even had thunder and lightning in the early hours of this morning. Fortunately, there was a break in the rain long enough to take these photos over the weekend. Shelbee chose this month’s Thrifty Six theme of Denim Days, which gave me the opportunity of…

[rafeny]

Can I Tell You...about my Spring / Summer 2024 Collection featured on Vogue Philippines.

Rafé Totengco’s Latest Collection Has The Sentiments Of A Sweet Escape

written by Chelsea Sarabia for Vogue Philippines

For his Spring/Summer 2024 collection, bag designer Rafé Totengco presents glistening miniaudières swept over North Fork shores, celebrating femininity, vibrance, sunlight, and the season.

For a summer away from New York City, it might seem like there’s no better destination than the Hamptons. If it were up to Rafé Totengco, however, he’d tell you that being there would feel as if you hadn’t even left Manhattan. “I mean, it really is a fabulous location,” he says, but “I’m just not there.” On the weekends, the Rafé New York designer would rather be on the peninsula opposite the Hamptons, up in the North Fork. “I swear to you, your trip will feel so different if you just go away for two days. Just come out,” he urges, reenacting the convincing he had to do to get a few of his friends to come and visit. “Just come and see it for what it is, and you’ll see. You’ll come back.”

With the locale’s sprawling vineyards, lush gardens, and secluded beaches at every turn, it seems that taking the road less traveled would have you reap the most rewards. “You could kind of call it a bucolic scene or state of mind. I mean, every time I go there for the weekend, as soon as I cross this threshold, immediately, [my] stress level goes like whoosh.”

Totengco spends every weekend in the North Fork; it’s become something of a necessity for the designer. “Having lived in the city for so long, you need that escape. For me, it’s like, I need that balance,” he tells Vogue Philippines.“I mean, I used to love being in the city every weekend. But now that I’m able to go away, I look for it. I need it.” 

He knew it would inspire his next collection as the vases in his home seemed to overflow with the fan shells he would collect on each of his visits. In such an idyllic setting, it was hard not to find beauty everywhere you went, says the designer. “I take my mom and my husband from Thursday night on. It really is our happy place. I kind of wanted to be able to share that happiness—of the location, of the moment, of the feeling.”

Totengco is the kind of designer who never stops designing, finding inspiration in just about anything. The collection is largely informed by the details you might ignore in passing: the North Fork’s pebbly beaches, fresh flowers from the local farmer’s market, the frequent bachelorette parties hosted in the vineyards. “You see these girls all dressed up, but [because] it’s so windy and it’s so natural,” he shares. “They’re all dressed, but it’s not, like, super fancy. There’s a casualness to it all.” 

He approaches his clutches the same way; each piece in the collection is meticulous in its beadwork and craftsmanship, but still conveys something of a sense of ease through its design. “There’s a sequined clutch that I did—[there’s] no way that can be done by machine. When you see it, you see that each sequin is individually stitched into place,” he explains. “And yet, when you look at it [from afar], it’s not a very complicated bag. It’s a frame clutch, done. But it exudes so much femininity and color and vibrance… It catches the light. It reflects sunlight. [This bag] is a way to celebrate light and the season.” 

That same effortlessness is evident in Totengco’s campaign images, starring model Hannah Locsin and photographed by Martin Romero. That shoot day, it would be the three of them in the designer’s car, driving around until they stumbled upon a scenic patch of land fitting for the collection—something not at all difficult to find in the area. “The whole day was just so relaxed,” Totengco recalls. “We shot a lot in one day, but it didn’t seem like it. It felt like we weren’t even rushing. Somehow, there was just this ease into the company.” 

More than the actual work, Totengco remembers going with Locsin and Romero to buy greens from the farmer’s market and sharing a salad under a comfortable midday sun. The day lacked the frenetic pace that creatives in fashion are so used to, but it didn’t make a difference in the designer’s desired results. “I was so happy when I saw the pictures because they’re exactly what I wanted,” he says. “Her hair’s blown in the wind, and she’s just there in the sun… I don’t know, [they’re] exactly how that day felt.”

In thinking of this collection, Totengco had meditated on his moments of peace spent in nature, wishing the same for the Rafé New York woman “whether it’s just for the weekend, for the evening, [or] even if you’re stuck at home.” Everyone needs solace between all the noise. “I think, more than ever, everyone’s looking for an escape,” he says. “We’re all dreaming of getting away. So even if you can’t go somewhere like the North Fork, I think, just visually, we want to be transported.”

[lavender-mommy]

gif creds: @tetragonia ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

you were heading off to the island club to have brunch with your friends. rafe was outside on the patio, on the phone with barry. you step into his view—perfectly pink painted toes shown off by your wedged sandals, tight little body barely covered by the scraps of fabric you call clothes, your hair styled in pristine condition. you looked beautiful.

“rafe,” you whisper, trying not to be rude while interrupting his conversation. you messed with the hello kitty keychain on your shoulder bag. “I’m leaving now.”

rafe loses all his concentration on his conversation as he turns to stare at you. he tilts his head up, giving you that smug smile that you love so much. you giggle, stepping forward and gathering his face in your hands. you two engage in a sloppy, dirty kiss that would make the nuns at church gasp. he pulled you onto his lap, holding his phone an arm length away.

“rafe, I have to go!” you whined as he began kissing on your neck.

he sighed, rolling his eyes playfully. he nudges you off of him but still kept your hand in his. “alrigh’ get outta here,” he teased.

“yo! country club!” barry’s voice boomed through the phone. “‘r you listening to me?”

[cal-flakes]

hi lover!! can we see dealer!rafe teaching innocent!reader how to do a bump pretty please 😋😋 my fav trope!!!

yes yes yes yes you fuckin’ can my love. (not proofread i apologise i am a sleepy girl rn)

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— “you lost or somethin’?” a smug voice appeared behind you, causing you to flinch in fright, lost in your own mind. you peered up at him, all glossy lipped and doe eyed, just like he expected. “oh— rafe! sorry, i was jus’ seeing if i left my charger in here” you explained, a sweet smile gracing your face. his brows furrowed, yet his shoulders relaxed, simply unable to keep up the intimidating act while you beamed up at him the way you did.

“and why would it be in here?” he questioned further, eyes narrowing slightly while a smirk tugged at his lips. “oh no— i mean, i didn’t leave it in here, but sarah said she might’ve let you borrow it or something?” your grin faltered slightly, picking up on the undertone of annoyance in his voice.

it wasn’t that rafe was scary— well, he was, but he made an effort not to scare you. how could he? his sister friend who always showed up in sweet little dresses, neatly styled hair, perfected makeup. the last thing he wanted was to scare you, if anything he wanted to know more. unbeknownst to rafe, you were just as intrigued— ogling him over the kitchen island when he came back to tannyhill late at night, interrupting your and sarah’s girly nights in. always offering to help whenever he seemed stressed.

taking a step back, he reached into his bedside drawer with ease, pulling out a familiar bedazzled iphone charger. “m’messin’ with you kid, y’mean this charger?” he chuckled, watching carefully as you let out a quiet, shaky breath before quickly regaining your smile. “that’s the one! thanks rafe!” you giggled, taking the item from his hands before heading for the door. “y’know, why don’t you stay for a bit? spend some time w’me? she’s got you all to herself all the time”

your hand retracted from the door immediately as the words left his mouth, though mentally scolding yourself for seeming so eager. “well— i’m sure she wouldn’t mind, just for little while”

— before you knew it, hours had passed, the only noise in the house being the movie rafe had picked as well as your giggles. you’d found yourself laying down on his bed, head resting on his knee as he lay against the headboard.

“y’look tired doll, y’okay?” he hummed, resting a lazy hand on your cheek as you released a surprised yawn, not wanting him to think you were getting bored. “jus’ a little, s’okay though, i can stay up a bit longer..” you spoke softly, turning over to face him now.

“i’ve got somethin’ that can help” he stated nonchalantly, reaching again into his bedside drawer, this time pulling out a not-so bedazzled baggy. your brows knitted together. “whas’at?”

“you trust me?” he tested, cocking an eyebrow as he sat up slightly. “course’ i do rafe” you smiled naively, watching as he opened the bag, tapping it gently as he poured out a small pile onto the back of his thumb. “this, is everything you need”

his other hand beckoned you forward till you were within his reach, carefully pulling you into his lap, legs slotted beside his as you tugged at the hem of your dress, doing your best to cover up. “now, your gonna close your other nostril, and sniff up— hard, m’kay? you listenin’ baby?” he instructed, tapping your jaw slightly as if you bring you back into the room, noticing the vacant look in your eyes as they stared at him in awe. “mhm”

swiftly, rafe pressed his hand to the back of your head as his other came up to your nose, guiding you through it as the grainy powder made its way up your nose, an unfamiliar feeling that only made your eyes water. “s’okay doll, it’ll hit you in a second alright?” he cooed, using the same hand to wipe away the pools building in the corners of your eyes before pulling you further into him.

“not just sarah’s little friend after all, huh kid?” he smirked, allowing you to nuzzle into his chest for a moment as you both waited for the high.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinkmas (4)- Cookies And Cream

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary:  Whilst attempting to bake festive cookies with Wanda, the two of you end up getting a little 'distracted.'

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, Christmas Cookies, Baking, Smut, Dom Wanda/Sub Reader, Fingering, Magic Strap on, Spanking, Multiple Orgasms, Kitchen Sex, Hair-pulling, Brief Choking, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex

Kinkmas Masterlist

---

A soft hum left your lips as your body subconsciously swayed to the tune of the Christmas music softly spilling from the speaker, your hands carefully placing the tray of cookies into the oven ready to bake, your smile stretching at the festive shapes of them. Your personal favourite was the Christmas tree shaped ones, your mind running wild with ideas of how to decorate them, hands instinctively opening the cupboards to grab the ingredients needed to decorate the various styles of sugar cookies.

Wanda had helped you use the range of cookie cutters, the two of you having fun with trying all of them out, the tray swiftly filling with bare snowmen, stars, Christmas trees, Santa hats and more, smiles engraved onto your faces the entire time you were together.

As you were opening the bag of icing sugar to make the various colours to decorate with, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to her body as her head rested against your shoulder, watching your hands measure out the appropriate amounts for each bowel.

"Hey Detka," Wanda murmurs after returning, having taken off her thick jumper which leaves her in a simple black tank top and the matching pair of pyjama pants you convinced her to wear, your gaze briefly wandering down to where her bare arms were snaked around you.

"Hey love," you whisper back, tilting your head to the side for a kiss, pecking her lips innocently before returning to the task at hand, silently relishing in the comfort her body provided. Her body stayed glued to yours as she watched you make the first bowl of vibrantly coloured icing, you relaxing against her embrace momentarily as her hands slid under your shirt, caressing the skin in an affectionate and tender manner, fingers gently drawing idle circles against your warm body.. "Does my sous chef want to help again?" you murmur after a while playfully, lolling your head back against her in demand of another kiss, craving another after all the 'hard' work you put in to make the dish filled with green icing.

She smiles and chuckles softly against your lips, her arms that were snaked around you slipping away as she moves to stand opposite you at the kitchen island, her eyes sparkling with mischief. You want to be disappointed at the lack of physical touch as she moves away, bringing with her the items needed to help you make the frosting for the cookies she was eagerly waiting to taste, but the look in her eyes distracts you.

"Sous chef?" she asks humorously, both of you knowing exactly who the true chef was between you. "Are you sure about that, Detka?" Her tone amused as she slides a spoon out of a drawer, ready to mix in the milk and vanilla extract into the powdered sugar, your smile engraved on your face as you can't help but stare at her adoringly.

You hum in response, biting down on your lower lip to try and suppress your smile, Wanda letting out another angelic laugh as she shakes her head at your antics.

The room is then encased in the festive spirit once again as the two of you work silently, enjoying the tranquil atmosphere as Christmas songs fill the air. Your eyes occasionally meet, her green softening at your loving gaze as you watch her make the bright red coloured portion of icing, the white gradually turning the desired colour as the colouring is swirled into it. Your gaze however swiftly flickers over to her arms as she stirs the spoon in the thick substance, forearms flexing slightly as she drags the spoon through it, the vein in her hand protruding slightly causing a series of sinful thoughts to briefly flicker across your mind. God her arms were sexy.

You managed to keep your thoughts at bay to a certain extent, the smirk playing on Wanda's lips implying she'd still heard them, but you didn't notice that as your gaze travelled higher up her toned arms, watching how the muscles moved subtly. Your attention was only diverted away when she moved to cross her arms over her chest, consequently pushing her breasts up, your gaze briefly flicking to them before meeting her gaze with a sheepish look, her brow raising at your red cheeks.

"Enjoying the show?" she teases, chuckling softly as you return to making another colour of icing by adding the orange food colouring for the snowmen's noses, acting coy.

"I always do," your tone soft as you meet her gaze again, the green enticing you in and luring you into staring at them forever. You'd always watch Wanda make the dinner for the two of you, usually sitting on the countertop as she explained the dish, occasionally teasing you about your lack of cooking skills to which you'd always laugh at.

The gaze lingers as you continue to get lost in the eyes you love so much, a wave of arousal flooding through you when you notice them darken, an idea entering your girlfriend's mind as your legs squeeze together as she looks like she wants to absolutely ruin you. When her mouth parts slightly, you expect her to tell you what to do, to order you onto your knees or bend over the island, but instead she merely teases you, wanting you to be desperate before giving into your fantasies.

You watch with lust filled eyes as she swipes her finger into some of the white icing left, the sweet treat slowly dripping down her finger as she raises it to her lips, effortlessly sliding it into her mouth and moaning softly at the taste. Her eyes stay trained on you as her cheeks hollow slightly, tongue swirling around her finger to lick it clean, your own mouth parting at the sinful sight of her.

"Mhmm delicious," she hums out innocently, swiping another bit of the icing and repeating the action, your legs squeezing together harder at her sultry look. "Although," she starts, smirking a little as she pushes herself away from her position at the island, walking around it at a leisurely pace, revelling in how you watch every movement, every sway of her hips in an mesmerised manner, "I know something else that tastes even better." Her arms wrap back around your body, her mouth purring the words into your ear making you groan at her suggestive words, a surprised noise leaving you when you feel the strap on now placed between her legs, red tendrils of magic dissipating into the air after she conjured it.

"Wanda," you sigh out, pushing your body back against her and the toy, a low groan escaping her, the noise going straight between your thighs. "Fuck, is it...?'' Your words trail off as she grinds her hips into you, softly moaning at the shell of your ear as she can feel everything through the toy, her powers enabling her.

"Yeah," she husks out, her hands sliding down your body, caressing the skin at your waist softly before pulling your body back against hers, your hands gripping onto the edge of the marble countertop for support. "I can't wait to fill you up Detka," she rasps out, kissing your neck lewdly as you give into her, the incessant throb between your legs too much to handle.

"Please," you sigh out, lolling your head back against her shoulders, eyes peering up into hers submissively, "I need you inside me." Her lips instantly pressed against yours at the way you practically whimpered your words, her resolve quickly crumbling as she was just as desperate as you were at this point, her firm hands squeezing your curves as her hips pushed harder against you, pinning your body between her and the countertop.

"You want me that bad Detka?" She chuckles out lowly, teeth scraping the side of your neck, warm mouth pressing against your skin, the touch sending arousal straight through you, your hips pushing back against her to emphasise your want for her. You can feel her lips pull into a smirk as your actions, one of her hands sliding up your body to rest against the underside of your jaw, guiding your head back so she could ghost her lips against yours. "Tell me what you want," her tone dropping an octave, accent wrapping around the words and adding a gentle rasp as her green are utterly consumed by lust and desire.

"Fuck me," you sigh out, "Please," eyes fluttering close as her lips brush over yours, not quite pressing hard enough to give you the satisfaction of feeling them passionately moving against yours. "Bend me over and show me I'm yours," your tone a mere whisper, her mouth crashing to yours as she swallows the soft whimper that escapes you at the intensity of the kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth while her hands move to your pyjama pants, effortlessly sliding them down your legs.

With every touch, you felt your body burn at the sensation, heat building swiftly at the pit of your lower abdomen as her fingers slid your panties to the side, wasting no time in thrusting a finger into you, wanting to stretch you out.

The moan that escapes you is nothing but sinful, the pathetic noise eagerly swallowed by her mouth as she works her digit inside you, curling it perfectly against your sweet spot and causing pleasure to spark through you, your mind struggling to focus on anything but her.

Your knuckles bleed white with how hard you were gripping the countertop for support, hips trying their best to rock against her hands as she groans into your mouth at the way you already clench around her desperately, your mouth parting, lips lingering against hers but not kissing as a groan is torn out of you, her smirking against you at the noise. Her lips trail along your jaw as you struggle to kiss her back, her thumb reaching around your body to circle your clit a few times, your hips bucking against her as your legs try to squeeze around her hand, her other one easily parting your legs.

"Please," you moan out when she slides in another finger, thrusting them together inside you a few times before her free hand moves to between your shoulder blades, pushing your body forwards against the countertop.

Her magic slides everything nearby on the table out of the way, the red fading in the air as you're bent over the marble island like you wanted, hands reaching across to the other end as you knew you were going to need to grip onto something.

"I hope you know that I'm not going to be gentle," her tone is soft as one of her hands gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, her eyes shamelessly raking over your body all ready for her.

"That better be a promise," you chuckle out, her hand tugging on your hair to drag your head backwards slightly, her other hands positioning the toy at your entrance.

A shaky breath leaves her as she feels how wet and aroused you were with the tip of the toy, the warmth and wetness fogging her mind as she teasingly grinds the toy against you another few times, waiting for you to plead with her.

"Wanda, please- Fuck," your words are cut short as she thrusts the toy into you with a powerful snap of her hips, a low groan escaping her at the feeling of you so tightly wrapped around her, her hips flush against yours as she savours the pleasurable feeling. A moan leaves you as she fills you up completely, fingers pressing hard against the countertop as she pulls her hips back until only the tip of the toy remains in you, a small, low curse leaving her lips before she thrusts it back in, both of you moaning once again.

The room quickly fills with the lewd sounds of your moans, pants and the sound of the toy repeatedly being drilled into you, her pace merciless and rough as promised, her hands gripping your waist tightly as she pounds into you in the middle of the kitchen.

"Shit," her tone low as her eyes can't tear away from the sight of her cock being swallowed by your cunt. "You're taking me so well Detka," she pants out, her hands guiding your hips into a slightly different position, the toy reaching even deeper inside you and hitting your sweet spot with every single thrust.

"Fuck," you practically scream, clenching around her hard and making her buck her hips into you roughly, a desperate noise being dragged out of her. "Just like that, shit, harder," you beg, her hand pulling on your hair harder as she somehow increases the force behind her thrusts, a broken noise escaping you at the pleasure that floods through your body.

Unable to stop herself, her free hand spanks you roughly, knowing just how you like it earning another loud noise to reverberate around the room, your eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling of pleasure consuming you.

"Please, again," you whimper, her hand roughly colliding with your other cheek, a red mark forming where her hand had just spanked, her dominance somehow making you even wetter at the mix of pain and pleasure.

The combination of her brutal thrusts and her harsh spanks clouds your mind, body acting on its own as you try to push your hips back in time with her movements, a string of moans and chants of her name spilling from your lips, your orgasm rapidly approaching.

"I'm so close," you pant out, another spank sounding around the room, your body jerking at the sensation, a whimper falling from your lips. "Please," her hips continue to snap into you, her hand still tugging on your hair, the other moving to hold onto your hips as she can tell you're struggling to support yourself, pleasure being the only thing your brain is comprehending.

"Come for me," she husks out, a guttural noise leaving you as you clench desperately around the toy, walls spasming around her as waves of pleasure and euphoria crash through your body. You fall over the edge into a powerful orgasm, body trembling in her grasp as she slows her thrusts down, a moan escaping her as she tries not to come in you just yet, her hips gently rolling into you. "Fuck," she curses, voice a mere pant as she feels you clench around her again, a small whine leaving you when she pulls out suddenly, hands moving your body.

A thrill is sent through your body when she manhandles you into a new position, having you sit on the edge of the countertop with your legs spread, eyes blown with lust as you watch her hungrily while she positions the toy back at your entrance.

"You feel so fucking good," she husks out against you, tilting her head to meet your lips messily, the kiss a clash of teeth and tongue as you passionately steal each other's breath away. You moan lewdly into her mouth as she thrusts her hips into you again, filling you up perfectly making your hands grip onto her shoulders, nails digging in. "All mine," she mutters, biting down on your lower lip and dragging it down, eventually releasing it before letting her tongue sooth over the dull pain, a whimper leaving you at the action and the feeling of the toy pumping in and out of you.

"Yours," you moan out, her lips relentless against yours, hips incessant as she chases her own release, driving you towards your second simultaneously. One of her hands goes to brace her body above yours, resting on the countertop, the other moves to your throat, fingers resting against the underside of your jaw as she directs you to look into her eyes, a new wave of arousal and heat flooding through you.

"You want me to fill you up, Detka?" She purrs, her rhythm starting to falter a little, speeding up as she nears her release, an affected sigh leaving you as the mere thought of her coming in you has your head spinning.

"Yes," you immediately reply, "Please do, please come in me," your tone laced with desperation and submission as she groans, crashing her lips to yours as your body nears your own release, ready to fall over the edge with her.

"Fuck, I'm coming," she groans, hips stuttering into you as thick spurts of cum fill you up, her hips pressing further into you as her body towers over you, pushing you harder against the island as a string of moans leave her. A moan spills from your lips at the euphoric feeling of her emptying inside you, thrusting gently into you as you follow her and crash into your orgasm, pleasure taking over all your senses as she hides her face at the crook of your neck, panting against your warm skin.

Ragged breaths take over the room as you relax against each other, one of your arms loosely wrapped around her shoulders while the other goes to her hair, fingers softly scratching her scalp, her lips tugging up into a small smile against your skin. Her arms have snaked around your body, pulling you close for a soft embrace as you both try to recover after your powerful orgasms, your head leaning against the side of hers as you remain locked in a state of bliss. Your eyes gradually flutter open, flickering away from the ruffled hair by your head to the clock on the wall, eyes instantly widening.

"Shit," your tone immediately grabbing Wanda's attention, head pulling away from the safety of your neck, "The cookies," the panic in your tone and wide eyes instantly causes Wanda to laugh softly, the angelic noise making your brows furrow as she simply kisses your forehead, chuckling as she lingers at the spot.

"I turned the oven off earlier Detka," she reassures, your eyes having missed the red tendril that ensured the cookies didn't burn while the two of you were preoccupied, relief flooding through you as you were rather excited to try them.

"Oh," you mumble a little shyly, her lips pecking your lips once more, the two of you inevitably smiling against each other, an idea popping into your mind as she still remains inside you, "Well..." You trail off, Wanda's brow raising at your tone, "As the oven is still off, we might as well have a round three."

Another chuckle leaves her as she shakes her head at your antics, kissing you softly and answering your question as she lifts you off the island, carrying you towards the sofa and pinning your body between her and the cushions.

"We might as well," she mumbles playfully, starting to thrust her hips back into you, moans filling the room once again as you lose yourself within each other once again.

The cookies were going to have to wait until later. 

[jeanbie]

SWEET UNWIND ★ masterlist.

pairing: levi x reader

warnings: sexual content, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampies, foodplay, grumpy & sunshine, fem!reader, piv sex, silent sex (little dialogue) | wc: 6.1k

note: proudly inspired by the insatiable thoughts i had while watching charles bake his cake and kill people in "the brothers sun". also i got cheated on and felt horny, so turned to my favourite cartoon man for relief

⏤ When Levi's not working, he likes to take things slow, and as of late, he's found that baking desserts is an excellent way to unwind. Yesterday, he made a beautifully sweet strawberry drizzled cake with cream. On today's menu, his personal favourite: cream pie.

Gangnam, Seoul; five to midnight, the city turning in for the night as bold and bright lights flicker to life, the streets lined with neon glows that on the waterfront look like blurry fireworks. While constant lines of traffic come and go, honking and revving at the lights as they hurry to wherever they need to be next, Levi switches off the egg-timer that blares to life loudly and sets it down on the kitchen island.

Behind him, baking in the oven with a warm and golden glow, is the sponge for his lemon drizzle cake. He glances up at the TV screen across the room and watches as one of the contestants drizzles extra veins of lemon curd across a wide canvas of white meringue cream, then looks back at his own display of ingredients. 

First, he heads to the oven and using the oven glove, he pulls down the door and extracts his top sponge layer. Immediately, Levi sets it aside to cool — too hot and the dollop of cream that will spread into his smooth centre will melt and dribble off like water. 

When Levi’s not working, he likes to take things slow, and as of late, he’s found that making desserts is an excellent way to unwind. It’s a simple step-by-step process where the final product produces something he can feel proud of, and something he can enjoy with a cup of tea or even something stronger.

He’s found over the last three years or so of baking that a hard liquor blends well with cheesecake, one with crumbled biscuits as a garnishing layer. Bailey’s accents any type of chocolate dessert almost too perfectly, and even does well inside of one. Last Christmas, for example, Levi enjoyed a whole chocolate truffle infused with the alcohol all to himself.

Baking takes a level of concentration that actually requires very little of him, and being able to see something he’s made all on his own at the end of it all can often be more rewarding than the stakes in the real world, outside of his entirely too fancy penthouse apartment. His job is often too demanding, too vicious, but coming home with a bag of ingredients that will eventually transform into something beautifully delicious feels like he’s turning a switch and stepping out of one life into another. 

Outside, out there in the harsh city, Levi Ackerman is a force to be reckoned with, a danger to those outside of his inner circle. But here, inside his home, his fortress, he doesn’t have to be anybody but himself — Levi Ackerman, the man, the neighbour, the dessert enthusiast.

Now that the sponge has cooled and the decorations have been sliced and prepared, Levi takes to assembling his own version of the British Bake Off lemon drizzle cake. Instead of it being baked as a tray bake, Levi’s followed the same style as Mary Berry herself; circular, smooth and comfortably petite.

He takes the cream he prepared before and slaps it with a wet plop on the bottom layer of sponge, smoothing it out with the flat-knife until he’s satisfied with the coverage. Then, he uses a spiral technique to create a lemony blend to bite into.

He spares a single glance at the swirling iron staircase leading up to the upper floor of his apartment when he hears movement, a simple and quiet rustle of sheets and an equally low-volume groan — a stretch of some kind. Then, he looks back at his cake and sets the top sponge over the finalised inner workings of his cake and gets to work on the pipework and decorations.

It is so easy for him to get lost in the craft. One minute rolls into five and rolls into ten as he perfects the lemon slice arrangement on top of the cake. He even prepared some lemon gratings beforehand and uses them as a powdery layer on top of the smoothed out blanket of cream. Once everything is in place, Levi looks back up at the TV and watches the contestants present their final results to the judges. 

Back and forth — his eyes move from their cakes to his. He thinks his cake would have earned him Star Baker that week, that’s for certain.

Even though Levi chooses to bake after work to dispel the tension building up in his bones, he still doesn’t feel completely satisfied with his work today. The cake is as good as he can get, especially when it’s his first real attempt at a lemon drizzle. But an ache lingers in his shoulders, a buzzing feeling of discomfort in every joint and muscle. 

Today has just been extra hard. One dessert won’t suffice.

After a long haul of tracking down one of the leaders of a local crime organisation known as the Hannam Tigers, and successfully putting a few of his henchmen in early graves, Levi knows that one small cake won’t be enough to satiate his irritation for the night. In his line of work, things went wrong sometimes, even when they were annoyances he could do without. 

The Hannam Tigers operate in a network of highly trained men with highly decorated backgrounds, and even with Levi’s colourful skillset, it can be a challenge to rid them from the world. 

Levi rinses his hands under the tap and uses a cloth to dry them, catching the final portion of the competition on TV before tossing the cloth to the side and dumping his utensils into the sink. For now, he focuses his attention on the assortment of ingredients he’s set to the side to make his all time favourite dessert.

But first, he’ll need to head upstairs.

With what he needs in his hands, Levi escapes the kitchen before it swallows him into creating more and more desserts and then climbs the staircase curling up into the upper floor. Up here, there is a study that he barely uses — not because of his incompetence to utilise it, but instead for a general lack of need, considering he prefers a much more physical and hands-on approach to what he sensitively calls his ‘career’ — a small bathroom and his bedroom, which he heads for and catches a glimpse of the glistening city from the window inside, the door ajar.

Inside, he takes a few steps forward and sets his things down, looking up to make out your shape in the swamp of black bedsheets. He can barely see you in the dark, but you groan and make your presence known, sitting up on your elbows to peer at his silhouette cast by the light from the hallway.

“You finished your cake?” you ask, your voice tired but nonetheless sweet, caring, genuinely curious.

Levi makes out your face in the dim light and waits until his vision settles. Once he sees you more clearly and sees the smile on your face, he nods simply and looks back down at his messy pile of ingredients.

You arch up a little higher to see what he’s looking at.

“Bring any for me?”

Levi doesn’t look up. “No.”

“Rude,” you reply, amused and unable to make out what he’s arranging neatly on the ottoman at the bottom of the bed. “I happen to like lemon drizzle.”

He knows. That’s why he picked that episode to watch, those ingredients at the store. 

“I don’t,” he replies. Levi’s not a fan of lemon anything, really. 

The door behind him creaks ever so slightly, the light widening across the room. You sit up straighter, watching him as he falls into a carefully analysed breakdown of his mystery items.

“Can I have some later?” you ask, filling the silence with conversation. If you strain, you might make out the next episode of Bake Off beginning to play, but you search for Levi’s signature noises instead; his silent yet attentive laughs from his nose, the grunts under his breath, unbothered hums of his attention and or interest. 

Levi looks up then, and rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. His blazer is downstairs hanging off one of the bar stools under the kitchen island, his shoes by the door. Now, he’s just dressed in whatever he came home wearing — there hadn’t been time to change, what with you slumbering like a princess in his bedroom. 

It’s a good thing he likes you, otherwise the lights would have been on and his work clothes off. Instead, he left you to it, heading for the kitchen when he came home and switching on his complimentary British Bake Off episode to accompany him in his regular routine of baking.

“I only made it for you,” he tells you. 

You arch an eyebrow — not that he can see, anyway. “Oh, really?”

He gives you a hum, thoughtless. You rearrange yourself under the sheets.

“I thought the whole point was to eat the dessert yourself after making it,” you say, filling the quiet moment with something as he skims his gaze over the ottoman again. 

He doesn’t look up when he says, “Well, I haven’t finished baking yet.”

“Oh?” you reply. “Something else cooking?”

“Yes,” he says. Then, he rounds the bed slightly from the right and whilst looking at you, he climbs up onto the bed with his knees. 

“What’re you making?” you question, a grin widening over your face as he looms near. You feel his hand just miss your leg under the sheets as he lays his hands flat on the bed, lifting his weight closer to you all whilst maintaining an unnaturally cool composure.

If you didn’t know him any better, you’d think he was bored by the entire exchange. His face is covered in shadows, and yet you can still see the slipping shift of something in his eyes as they catch in the light from the windows. 

Levi’s face reanimates in the city lights, now not far from your own. He curls his fingers around the bedsheet and tugs it down, exposing your legs to the cool shift of temperature in the bedroom. You shudder, leaning your head back until it softly hits the wooden headboard. 

“Pie,” Levi says.

“Mmm. I love pie,” you comment. 

He grunts, another one of your favourite Levi-sounds.

His hand shifts from the bed to your leg. In the dark, everything feels more pronounced; his ever-so-slightly rough palm smooths across your thigh and down your leg, past the knee and down towards your ankle. Once caught in his grasp, he manages to pull you from your sloped position against the headboard and back down into the pillows. He knows you're wearing nothing else from the waist down — all the more reason to tug you down and snatch a glimpse of what he knows is his.

“What kinda pie?”

Levi finds your eyes again in the dark, and you’re not sure if he planned it, but now you can see his face in a spectrum of light. His expression is flat, toneless, yet intrigue dances across his eyes as they wander across your face, down past your neck, and down to the exposed skin of your chest from underneath one of Levi’s shirts you stole from his drawers.

He says nothing for a moment. Using both hands and releasing your ankle, Levi presses his hands against your abdomen, running them up underneath the shirt until he reaches your sternum, the sloping sphere of your breasts against his fingertips. His eyes flick up to yours as he pushes the shirt all the way up over your breasts, and uses his body to part your legs until your knees are on either side of his hips.

The weight of his gaze makes you squirm slightly. 

He blinks. Licks his bottom lip so quickly you almost miss it and says very simply, “Cream.”

Your grin widens.

Levi lowers his face to your stomach, his lips pressing against the skin above your belly button. Immediately, as if practised, your hands jump up to his head of hair, your fingers threading through it as he works his mouth down from your stomach to the damp space between your legs.

A home within a home; a place he loves to push his face into when he’s had a particularly long day.

Levi doesn’t even have to put in any effort anymore. You quite contently lift your calves up over his shoulders, widening them enough to feel his lips circle around your clit, two fingers widening your folds so he can stuff his face with your cunt.

Coating your clit with a layer of wetness, he replaces his lips with his right thumb and moves his fingers, using his tongue to part you down the middle, and making you writhe against the bed with a satisfied moan. 

He’ll admit it to nobody but himself — he’s missed you. You’ve missed him, too, and the way it feels when he rubs his thumb against your nub in careful circles and plunges two fingers up your cunt. Levi could fool himself all he liked with the fantasy that baking a cake was enough to relieve his pent up stress from work, but nothing quite works to ease the burden like a face full of his favourite girls’ pussy.

Levi’s left hand drifts from your stomach to your thigh, smoothing over the top before curving down and round to the inner of your legs, his forearm wrapped around you comfortably and effectively locking you in place. He likes to watch the wetness pool between your legs as he gorges himself on your taste, but today he closes his eyes and closes his lips around you, tasting every inch of you like you’re his own slice of dessert, his favourite kind. Topped and served with a string of elated moans, just the way he likes it best.

“Mmf—!” There’s not a lot for you to say, nothing you can conjure up from the air gasping in your throat as Levi’s tongue licks laps around your clit, his thumb just shy to the side as he leaves a wet present for him to massage into your skin, his mouth very quickly preoccupied by the space neglected beneath. 

As his fingers curl up inside of you, then widen apart, your calves drop as if you’re trying to pull Levi closer to your body, and in turn he pushes his left arm down on your thigh and drags you with a smooth motion down the bedsheets and closer to his mouth. Your head arches back with the angled slope of your back, reaching up off the mattress in a coordinated performance of pleasure, and Levi finds the time to open his eyes and look up over your stomach and breasts to find your face; mouth agape and lids closed, gasping silently into the dark. 

Yeah. Out of all the desserts he could possibly create in his kitchen, he’d probably have to confess that his favourite one was one that could be made in the bedroom. 

Your hands take fistfuls of his hair and feeling the hot flatness of his tongue in the space between your clenching hole and your clit, you find your hips grinding up into his mouth, the slight nudge of his teeth making you squirm even harder beneath him. Levi’s no longer phased by the aching tightness of your fingers woven in a knot on his head. Whenever your fingers twitch and the clutch on his hair tightens, Levi knows he’s doing something right.

Every lick and nip against your cunt is matched by a groan, and as you ride the dampness between your legs against his lips, your voice thins out into a raspy nothingness. Your mouth is dry with the air of the bedroom, your eyes forcing themselves to close when they try and open to peer down at the man snug between your thighs. 

Levi feels a mixture of wet substances around his mouth and on his chin, but before he can grant you the pleasure of cumming down his throat, he pulls back.

The emptiness of the space between your legs is jarring, and almost immediately you sit up. Your hands drop from his hair and fall onto the bed, which you use to lift up your shaking body to watch as Levi leans back on his knees and retreats to the forgotten ottoman. It is only when he rises to his feet to observe the array of secret items displayed for his eyes only that you realise Levi is still wearing every article of clothing he was before. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask him, finally finding your voice as he arches over and fiddles with something that sounds plastic.

You catch the shine of your own arousal on his chin as he scans the catalogue of items.

“Preparing dessert,” he replies.

Your brows quirk, but when Levi stands upright and begins to shake something with his left hand, you feel your heart and its fast beating plunge straight to your stomach. A knot wells and tightens, and you bite a moan back and feel your thighs coming together like a magnet in anticipation.

Levi is shaking a bottle of whipped cream.

It shouldn’t surprise you nor excite you the way that it does. Levi has always had reservations about whipped cream — it should be from a bottle or made in a bowl; exclusively used as a side for a tart or cake slice, as a topping on a pancake, as the twist of sweetness on top of a hot chocolate. Levi doesn’t use whipped cream on his desserts in the same way he does as an accessory to the bake, but today — tonight, it seems as though he has found another valuable use for his generally unused bottle of whipped cream.

“This is new,” you say, feeling your ass lift off the bed as you struggle to contain your writhing excitement. Levi tests the nozzle; a burst of white cream spits out onto his finger, and without looking away he puts his finger in his mouth with all the nonchalance of a chef tasting his dish as he makes it. “I thought you didn’t like bottled cream on your desserts.”

“I like it on some things,” he replies. “First rule of baking is that you never feel afraid of trying something new.”

You hum thoughtfully as he retakes his position on the bed. It should make you laugh with the way he looks down at you while slowly twisting the bottle from left to right, but it doesn’t; it only makes you breathe heavier, your pulse quickening and legs opening as if on automatic and letting him take the space he’s claimed between them.

“They do say that it goes well with pies,” you say finally, watching as he angles the nozzle down on your stomach. The placement, if nothing else, has surprised you, and you suppress a moan of eagerness when he presses down and watches with a newfound intensity as the spiral of white cream pools out onto your skin. He’s cautious with the amount; just a small bud of cream, enough to swallow in just a mouthful.

Levi leans himself forward and pauses just before he can lick the dollop up off your tummy. 

“Clue’s in the name,” Levi replies, and with his eyes boring into your own, he presses his lips around the blob of cream and mouths it up off your body. It is entirely too fast, your jaw slacken as he pulls away, as if gauging your reaction. The yearning expression on your face has the nerve to almost look endearing to him.

He swallows. “Sweet.”

He receives from you something sounding like a whimper. Then, his finger is back on the nozzle and using the cream, he creates a trail from where he last was all the way down to your clit. 

You feel yourself clench when the cool texture of the cream sits in a melting bundle on your bud, and your teeth bury themselves into the flesh of your lower lip, biting down with extra force when Levi’s mouth shifts down to your clit and in one teasingly slow strip, he licks the trail of sweet cream up from your cunt to the wet spot on your stomach.

With his tongue, your back arches up off the bed, your knees by his shoulders. Levi is uncomfortably aware of the pooling arousal between your legs, his own forming tightness in his trousers. Watching you writhe with a glistening shine getting more and more pronounced so close to his face has proven to be exactly what he needed to unwind today, but he’s still not quite satisfied.

He’s not ignorant to the way your hips meet with the empty space he leaves when he moves away again, as if fucking an imaginary cock or grinding against an invisible set of hips. He uses his right hand to press you back flat against the bed and savours every second of your aroused moaning when he slathers your cunt with the cream, leaving no wet patch untouched. 

He watches with only minimal irritation when the cream slips down your folds into a white pool on the sheets — his sheets — but he takes its sliding as a sign to move back in. 

Levi licks the cream up as if it isn’t even there; it’s as if he’s taking gulps of you like it’s nothing, licking every inch of the cream and enjoying the wonders of your pleasure as you cry out above him. His nose brushes against the hidden bump of your clit, the feeling of his hot tongue making your toes curl behind his back, your fingers clenching around the sheets.

Ordinarily, you may have laughed at the sight of his lips coated in a white sheen, the cream on the tip of his nose, but today you can find nothing to laugh about. Every unit of energy is devoted to the tightening clench of your cunt, the tingling warmth growing inside of you as Levi wipes his nose and rises off the bed and onto his feet, right where the ottoman stands as a barrier between you.

He lets you play out your imaginary fantasy, rolling your hips into the empty vacuum of space where he was just situated and uses his hands to undo the belt around his waist. His trousers fall with an effortlessness when he undoes the front button, and he compels himself to watch you stare at him with a lustful gaze as he pulls his trousers down to his ankles. He decides he’ll keep his shirt on — it’s only fair, since you’re still wearing his, albeit the fabric is bunched up under your neck in the way he likes it.

He mounts the bed once again and meets you when you moan expectantly, and relishes in the sharp intake of your breath when he takes your right leg and folds it to the side. You look at Levi over your shoulder, your neck to the side as he presses you down with his left hand and uses the right to hold his cock.

You are once again reminded of how truly lucky you are to have a man like Levi; a man who needs nothing but your cunt in his face to get his cock standing rigid against his lower stomach.

You swallow a moan when Levi pokes the tip of his cock against your fluttering entrance, and when his eyes catch yours, the sharpened edge of his grey eyes staring straight into your own, you can’t catch the cry of pleasure that escapes when he pushes himself into you, feeling you wrap around the tip of him like your cunt is a mouth on its own.

Levi watches you gasp as if pained and he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up. You’re wet enough,” he says in a low tone.

“Hmf—!” And then the length of his cock is buried inside of you, only proving his point.

There’s nothing to explain the way it feels when he’s stuffing your hole: it’s as if he was made for you, a perfect fit to make you whole. Even with virtually nothing to ease the slip into your pussy, there’s no agonising stretch, no painful play — just a wholeness that feels as natural as anything else in the world.

Levi’s fucked you so many times that he might as well claim he lives up here, and each time he makes himself at home, he’s welcomed with open arms and a swallowing gulp. He pushes his hips all the way against you, until the underneath of your thigh is squished against his stomach and you feel the slight slap of his balls against your ass.

He’s never quite fucked you from this angle before, but it’s not unwelcome in the slightest. He wraps his wrist around your thigh and holds the front of it with his hand, his left coming to hold the sinking curve of your waist, which he uses to push you further into the mattress. 

Every time his dick sinks further inside of you, you let out a moan — he moves in and out so fast it’s as if he’s trying to keep your noise at a constant speed, never wanting to be left in a silence.

Levi looks down at you as he fucks, no longer interested in the way his dick disappears into the dripping darkness of your cunt and instead entirely devoted to mapping out the pleasure on your face. Nothing he hasn’t seen before, but everything he loves to see.

His hips rock against you, his shoulders tensing as you clench furiously around his length. Surely you don’t mean to be coaxing him into an early finish — surely you wouldn’t be rushing him along when he’s trying to enjoy his dessert.

The tip of Levi’s dick kisses your insides, but from this angle and the burning heat pooling in your abdomen, you don’t know if he’s hitting your cervix or deeper into your literal stomach. Levi’s fucked you from all different angles in every corner of his house, but he feels extra large today. The darkened edge of his eyes might be deceiving you, the sticky residue of cream still on your skin. 

You’re almost vibrating with pleasure as he fucks you, and all you can do is stay pinned to the bed like a doll and gasp out your praises.

Like most fucks with Levi, he says nothing besides, “Fuck,” in a dragged out, strangled type of way. He likes to make you suffer by dragging it out for as long as humanly possible, just to see you writhe and cry underneath him, your pussy pink and pulsing, begging for him to stop. 

Today, however, luck looks to be on your side. 

Unlike normal, Levi has little desire to unravel you into a sobbing mess. All he wants today is to fuck the brains out of his girlfriend and watch as her cunt fills with his cum.

Levi’s fingers clench into your skin, and for a second he closes his eyes in an effort to ride it out just a little bit longer before filling you up. When he feels your hand wrap around his wrist like a vice, his eyes fly open to look at you; you’re curled up, sunken in the bed, contorted into his favourite shape. 

Levi spares a glance at his cock swallowed up in your hole and watches with pride as he thrusts in and out of the wetness, and after a stuttering sequence of your hips jerking and mouth falling open with the release of some of his all time favourite sounds, Levi devours the sight of white squeezing from around his dick. 

He feels his throat catch. He’ll let you have that one.

Around the quivering clenches of his cock, Levi shudders and lets you squeal until you’ve run dry. He runs his fingers across the width of your connection and smooths the cum between his fingers. Then, without giving you the satisfaction of catching your breath, Levi continues his thrusting which gives him the continued pleasure of hearing you squeal and cry, your free hand reaching to the slip of sloping skin above your pussy as if you were trying to suppress the feeling rippling through you.

Long forgotten are the fingertips pressing bruises into your skin, but each thrust of his dick hitting the same spot inside you is met with an exhausted groan. Finally, when you’ve gathered the energy and courage to look up and around your body at his face, Levi lets slip what you think might be a satisfied smile, and he falters.

Ropes of warmth fill your cunt, and you hear Levi moan, loudly, and he unwraps his wrist from your leg and holds the base of his dick with his right hand. Carefully, he pulls himself out, save for the tip which remains snug in your hole, leaving no space untouched by his seed. He watches with wonder at the way your hole gapes around his cock like a mouth, swallowing his cum up until it billows out. Finally, he slips out of you, staring down at the oozing, swollen hole that is pulsing with cum. 

For a while, he stares at it, breathing loudly as he waits for all of his cum to squirt out of you; it’s like squeezing a cream doughnut and watching the sickeningly sweet contents slide out. 

Levi glances back up at you, amazed that you’ve been bold enough to watch him until the end, and he pats your waist appreciatively before rolling you back so that you’re flat on the sheets, legs apart, cunt wide.

Time to taste.

You watch as his head disappears between your legs, but he leaves no element of mystery. Your body almost jumps up off the mattress when his tongue pushes into your gaping entrance, lapping at the mixture of your cum and his and whatever else he can catch a taste of while he’s savagely licking down there.

Barely having the energy to pretend to stage a protest, you elect for moaning your approval and tiredly rake your hand through his hair again, pushing it from his forehead as you stare half-lidded at the crown of his head.

You lose count of how long Levi remains nestled down there. The only way you notice he’s no longer there is by the way he sweeps his hands down your legs and lays them flat, making note of every twitch and quiver your body makes.

Staring up at Levi and reluctantly forcing your body back up on your elbows, you grin up at him as he licks his top lip and appears thoughtful.

“Yeah,” sighs Levi, sniffing once in the way he does when he’s trying to fall back into his characteristic charade of coolness. “Homemade cream tastes better.”

Unable to argue, you heave out a laugh and meet his gaze.

“You’re fucking greedy,” you say, but that he actually does smile at. 

“So what,” he replies, reaching for another one of the items on the ottoman; a cloth from downstairs that he uses to wipe the mess between your thighs, “we both know I like cream pies. I even shared.”

You flinch when he dabs the cloth against your still-sensitive pussy. You take it from him to finish the honour, meanwhile Levi gathers the bottle of cream and whatever else he brought and never used before opting to watch you shift the cloth between your legs, throwing it back at him in a forced huff. He catches it effortlessly.

“Whatever,” you say, very slowly moving across the bed to the floor. The wooden slabs are cold beneath your feet. “I’m sure your lemon drizzle is miles better.”

Levi shakes his head affectionately and moves to meet you face-to-face when you stand on your feet. He hums when he gets there and strokes his finger down your arm, charming his way into your arms and once he’s close enough to your face, he allows a smile to warm over his features.

He dips his head to greet your lips with a kiss, the first of the day since he left you in the morning.

“Trust me when I say,” Levi says when he pulls away, his expression amused as he croons his finger under your chin and quickly leaves another kiss on your mouth, “I very much doubt that.”

[the-californicationist]

The Window (5 of 7)

Ch 01 // Ch 02 // Ch 03 // Ch 04 // Ch 05 // Ch 06--- AO3 Link

You couldn’t see anything. You knew you were in the backseat, but you didn’t even know what kind of car you were in. They’d stolen you from your bed. As the road rushed by you, jostling you around, you had no idea where you were headed. The two men on either side of you hadn’t said a word, but when you tried to peek, they reinforced your blindfold, keeping you in the dark. 

“Alright, bonnie,” Soap’s voice was in your left ear, “Ready for your surprise?”

You turned to him, hoping he could see the glare through the cloth, 

“Are we there yet? ‘Cause blindfolding a pregnant woman in a car while she has morning sickness is like a new level of cruelty.”

“Sorry, love,” Gaz took your hand and you felt his lips on your fingers, “Almost there.”

Price was in the driver’s seat, and you felt him pull the car to a long, braking stop.

Gaz took your hand, helping you out of the car, walking you up past the hood, one foot in front of the other. 

“Can I look?”

“Alright, pretty girl. You can look,” John’s voice washed over you, and you took off your mask. 

You were facing a modern-style home. It was the only house around, surrounded by trees, illuminated by bright sunshafts glittering through the leaves of the canopy. 

“Bought it for you, love. Wha’d’ya think?” Simon’s comment barely registered. 

When John had told you things would be different, he hadn’t really been clear. He’d promised to do everything he could to take care of you and the baby, and that he would somehow prove it to you. You had no idea that promise would include a whole damn house.

“Your name’s on the deed, and it’s paid in full. But,” John shifted his weight, treading lightly, “We were hopin’ you’d let us move in with you. We just… we don’t wanna miss a moment, love.”

“What?” Your voice sounded so small, “You… you bought me a house?”

“Aye, with a wee pool and everything! Come see it, bonnie,” Soap grabbed your hand and rushed you in. 

The house was unfurnished except for the appliances, but there were boxes in every room. You opened one to find a bedframe, and one in the kitchen had pots and pans. Had they bought everything new? How did they get the money?

“John,” you found him as Soap was taking you around for the tour, “How did you afford this?”

He smiled, 

“Four single men, all with over ten years of service… let’s just say we had some savings.”

“I can’t afford to pay you back,” you admitted. 

“Don’t need you to. It’s yours. I told you, love,” he pet your cheek, kissing you chastely once, twice, until you relaxed into his touch, “We’re here to stay, but it’ll be on your terms.”

“I don’t know what to say,” you were in shock as you stood in the big, empty living room, gaping up at the high ceilings and black, wooden beams. It was a gorgeous home, and you were speechless. 

“Do you like it, love?” Simon put his arms around your waist and held you, looking down into your face for your appraisal.

You nodded,

“I do. It’s perfect. Thank you for everything. I wasn’t —”

He bent down to kiss you, interrupting you, and he was anything but gentle. Something about seeing you in his home had Simon all worked up, and you were being subjected to its effects. 

His hands lifted you onto the kitchen island with incredible ease, and you spread your legs to accommodate his huge frame as he settled himself against your hips. He wouldn’t stop kissing you, forcing his tongue into your mouth, sucking on your lips, and fondling your tender breasts through your thin tee shirt. 

“You two are gonna start a fire you can’t put out,” Gaz chastised Ghost, sidling up to you and kissing your neck. 

“Join in or fuck off, mate,” Simon’s voice was like a growl, snarling at his sergeant before returning his mouth to your body, sucking on your soft nipple through the fabric of your tee, making the cloth cling to you as he licked and nipped at your peak.

“Easy, Si. We’re gonna unload the bags, and we’ll be back. Get her all warmed up for us,” Gaz’s sinister chuckle hung in the air as he left you at his lieutenant’s mercy, of which there seemed to be very little. 

Ghost was usually so careful with you, but today, in the echoing expanse of the kitchen he’d bought for you, he was messy and needy. You could feel his cock straining against his pants as he rubbed it against you. Wearing nothing more than a pair of bike shorts and a tee shirt, you were able to feel every touch, every warm inch of his dick through your thin clothing, and his repeated thrusting told you exactly how hard he was.

He whined as he kissed you, teasing his head against your covered hole, but sensing where the warm entrance was, prodding it as if he might break through. You comforted him, placing your hand on his cheek as he kissed you. It seemed to bring him back to earth, if just for a moment. 

“You alright, Si?” You asked in a low whisper, watching over Ghost’s enormous shoulder as the other three men brought in bag after bag of supplies and belongings, preparing to move in. They kept stealing hungry glances over at you and your tall blond lover, not jealous per se but feeling ready to be included. 

Simon nodded,

“Yeah, love. ‘M fine.” 

He pulled back a bit to look down at your body. He lifted your tee shirt to stare at your belly. You weren’t showing yet, but he didn’t care. He placed an enormous, tattooed hand over your womb protectively, whispering,

“Can’t believe you’re havin’ my baby. Doesn’t seem real yet.”

“How do you know they’re yours?” You asked him gently, putting your hand over his and tracing comforting circles across his skin.

“Don’t know,” he kissed you again, “Don’t care.”

Simon pulled off your bike shorts, forcing you to lift your hips off the counter, and ripped them off of your feet in one quick swoop. Your shirt disappeared just as fast, and the cool air in the empty kitchen rushed across your body, making your flesh pebble from the shock. But, you melted as soon as you felt Simon’s thick fingers spread your pussy lips apart, reaching for your tight, wet hole. When he found your warmth, you both sighed into each other, relieved and yet ablaze. 

His other hand was still pressed to your belly as if he was keeping you and your baby hidden from the world, holding you both in his palm possessively. The contrast was mesmerizing. His fingers pounded into you, sheathing themselves down to the knuckle, wet and sticky, while his other was gentle and soft, caressing you as sweetly as he could. You felt a strong, rushing orgasm build within you, and as soon as you began to clench around him, he took his fingers away, leaving you teetering on the edge with nothing to grab onto. 

“Ungh! What… Si? Please,” you whined, looking up to him with wide glassy eyes.

His expression was serious, and he leaned in close to taunt you,

“Whose baby are you havin’?”

“I don’t know. We said we would —”

His fingers were back, pressing down cruelly into your walls, making it feel like his fat dick was prodding through your entrance,

“Whose…” His fingers sank into you, making a popping wet noise. “Fuckin’...” He pulled them out of you, painting your wetness on your lips, “Baby…” Back in. “Is…” Back out. “It?” Back in, and this time, a third finger joined them.

“Simon!” You cried out, but you were alone in the room. The others must have been outside dealing with the moving boxes. 

“That’s right,” he brought your face up to his, tangling a fist into your hair, “Tell me it’s mine.”

“It’s too much, Si…” You were shocked by how stretched you felt, and your pussy was soaked, trying to accommodate its intruder, your muscles shaking from being spread apart. 

“Whose —”

“Yours… fuck! Si, you’re gonna make me come!” You felt it break inside of you, bursting through like a firework, crackling through your belly and making you squirt on his hands… and your brand new kitchen tile. 

“Oh, bloody hell. That’s a good girl.”

Just when you thought he would give you his cock, he began to slowly press his hand into you again, fucking you with his three wide fingers still inside of you, stretching you all the way down to his knuckles. 

“Si?” You whimpered, confused, starving for the comforting feeling of his heavy rod. 

“Wha’ is it, love?” He didn’t even look up at you. He was transfixed, focused on your swollen hole. 

“Fuck me… please?” You reached out for him, grasping at his wide forearm, trying to coax him to take the next step. 

In an almost dismissive way, he caught Price before he walked back outside and nodded at him, 

“Oy, mate. Hold her for me, yeah?”

To your shock, John walked over, studied you for a second as you writhed in your predicament, and stood on the other side of the island countertop, behind your head. He chuckled, 

“What have you gotten yourself into, pretty girl?” 

The captain took both of your arms and locked them in his, sticking them up behind your head, watching your tits hang freely, bouncing up and down as Ghost pounded his hand into your sopping pussy. 

You gritted your teeth, feeling your body respond to your capture, ready and eager to come again so soon after its last onslaught. 

“I can’t… I’m…” 

“Gonna come again,” Simon grinned, “Yeah, I can feel it. Needy thing, innit she?”

“She is,” John agreed, pinning your arms just a little tighter, ready for you to try and wriggle away. 

You were breathing heavy, and your muscles kept tightening up on you, freezing you in place as you tried to squirm free. If only you could pull your arms around you, maybe you could hold off the brutal fire building in your chest, burning down your ribs and spinning like a spiral in that impossibly tight coil that he was working with his fingers. 

It was when he bent to suck on your clit that you lost it. You felt the knot that was tangled up inside of you slip, the long rope sliding against its own bite, loose and unwieldy, letting you freefall through the sparkling, black abyss of your impossibly deep pleasure. 

“That’s what I wanna see, love,” your blond beast growled up at you, showing you his white fangs, “Give me that come. Give it to me! Yes! Fuck!”

You heard the wet noises that were coming from you, not understanding where they were coming from or how, but also not caring one bit. All you cared about was riding the relentless wave of pleasure. The more he fucked you on his hand, the more you rolled through the tumbling ebb and flow of your bliss. 

Hot tears cut across your temples, and it was John’s soft mouth that kissed them away, shushing you,

“It’s okay, love. Be good for Simon, yeah? Be our good girl. You can do that, right?”

You nodded weakly, leaning your cheek into his scruffy kisses, letting him nuzzle you, comforting you as Ghost pulled you apart.

John used his warm hands to pet your breasts, plucking gently at your nipples, lingering on their silky skin, 

“Such a pretty little thing, lettin’ Si use that pussy. You look bloody beautiful like this, love.”

His praise made you feel drunk. Now, all you wanted was to be good for them. You wanted more of that lovesick approval. What more could you give them? How could you appease the gods of your pleasure?

You canted your hips, humping Simon’s hand, letting him reach deeper and deeper on each thrust, rocking your body against the hard countertop. 

Ghost made a painful groan inside his throat, obviously pleased with your performance, and he leaned forward to suck on your breasts, biting and licking more than he was kissing, but it was enough to make you keen in high-pitched whines, catching Soap and Gaz’s attention in the other room. 

You didn’t halt your shameless undulation for their benefit. You were far beyond the point of shame. You were only focused on coming again and again and again — as many times as your commander needed you to — built to serve him. Them…

Gaz’s bright smile widened as he came up beside Ghost,

“My, my, my. Makin’ quite a mess, hm, babes?”

“A right gorgeous mess,” Soap added, licking his lips, obviously eager to taste the honey Simon had harvested from you. 

Now that he had his team with him, Simon pulled you off the counter top and put your feet on the ground. He positioned you so that he could fuck you from behind, but he was too tall. So, he simply held you up, easily supporting your weight, his heavy arm underneath your hips. Price, Gaz, and Soap all stood in front of you, their belt buckles in your line of sight, and watched as Ghost fed his solid cock into your wet hole. The captain grabbed you by the hair, forcing your chin up, and with each thrust from Simon, your mouth crashed right into Price’s zipper. 

“Mm,” he sighed, “Perfect height, innit?”

With his free hand, he unbuckled the belt, pulled down his zipper, and let the button free from his pants. Then, you were face to face with his fat dick, as hard as steel and ready to be buried in your throat. 

You opened your mouth, trying to look up at your captain, but it was no use, you couldn’t see him, all you could see was the head of his cock being pressed into your lips, inch after inch of him disappearing into your mouth, making you gag. 

As Simon thrust forward, Price pulled out, and then the reverse. As you felt your pussy empty from its delightful stretch, your throat was invaded by Price’s uncut, drooling monster. You were always full, no matter what, and your brain had no idea how to prioritize your efforts. So, for the most part, you were helpless, hanging limp between the two huge men, being used by them in a cyclic, tantric rhythm, ceaselessly and towards a blinding, white-hot joy. 

Suddenly, you felt two mouths on your hanging breasts, suckling from each nipple as if you would feed them, laving at your skin relentlessly. You knew it was Gaz and Soap from the feeling of their kisses, but you couldn’t see them, so every movement was a surprise. Someone’s hand began to play in your folds, discovering the hard round body of your clit and teasing it as SImon slammed himself into you. 

You came, but it was silent. Price’s cock wouldn’t let any noise escape, but he could feel you screaming. He took a step forward, fully sheathed inside of you now, cutting off your air, making you choke roughly. Your whole body clenched down before you told it to relax, and the sound that came from Simon was a singular delight. It seemed like he was in some kind of heaven. 

“Oh, fuckin’ hell. Tha’s damn good,” Ghost hissed, “Do it again, Cap.”

Price obliged, choking you down on his cock, making your jaw stretch to its limit, burying your nose in his soft curls. You lapped at his base with your tongue, participating in the small way that you could, balancing yourself on his hips. 

“Ungh!” Price groaned, emptying his load into you. 

Simon was coming too, and you could feel the heat from both of them pooling inside of you. 

You weren’t sure whose arms you were in, but someone held you tightly, helping you stand on shaking legs, petting your face, telling you not to swallow. 

“Hm?” You tried to catch your bearings, and Soap held your face in his hands, his thumbs trying to pull your mouth open. 

“C’mon, bonnie. Open up. Show me his come, yeah? Lemme taste it.”

You were out of your mind, but you were pliant and fully drowning in your subspace, eager to obey. You opened your mouth to him, feeling him lick Price’s come out of you, sucking it off of your tongue. Then, he dropped to his knees, licking it back into your cunt, mixing it with Simon’s, eating you out and filling you up at the same time. 

Gaz was still on his knees as well, and you could feel his huge hands pull your ass cheeks apart, the tip of his strong tongue prodding at your asshole, trying to squeeze itself through the tight muscle. 

He found a way in, and you were being eaten from both sides, held upright by Soap’s strong arms. You held onto his mohawk for help, trying to steady yourself. Their mouths were so warm, and yet you shivered, the pleasure overwhelming you. 

A big thumb came and wiped more tears from your cheek, 

“Shh, pretty girl. You can take it, yeah?” 

It was John. He was comforting you, his softening cock still hanging heavy and low outside of his pants, shining from your mouth. He coached you,

“Breathe for me. Gonna come for them, aren’t you? Yeah, tha’s a good girl. Just let it happen. Shh, shh. Pretty little thing…”

“Ahhhngh!” You screamed from deep within your chest, and you knew you had squirted again, all over Soap’s face. You felt it happen. Now that Simon had primed you for it, you nearly had control, but not quite. It was like a button that was too high to press. 

“Fuck, yes, lass. You taste so fuckin’ sweet. Holy shite,” Johnny came up off the ground and held you up so that your legs were straddling him. It didn’t take much for him to stuff himself into your pussy after Simon’s work, and yet he filled you in an entirely different way. At the same time, you felt Gaz behind you, his fingers playing in your asshole, and then, his soft cockhead. 

It took Gaz much longer to get fully settled, but as Johnny fucked his dick up into you, he found a way. You felt Gaz’s wide palm wrap itself around your throat from behind, not to choke you but to hold you upright, keeping you straight even though everything in you wanted to collapse. 

“That’s it, babes. This tight little arse belongs to me, yeah? Tell us who you fuckin’ belong to.”

“You… ungh, I’m… ahhh!” You tried to speak, but it was so much easier to whimper. 

“C’mon, pretty girl,” John was back, fondling your breasts as his men fucked you in both of your holes, “You can do far better than that.”

You met his eyes, and behind the icy blue, there roared a blazing fire. Simon had come to join you on the other side of Johnny, and the same flames lay within him as well. 

“I’m yours,” you promised all four of them at once, “This baby is yours,” you heard them collectively groan at varying levels of excitement and possession, “All yours. Always.”

“Good girl,” Simon praised you before Price could, parting your lips with his fingers, the same ones he had tortured you with, and stuck them in your mouth, “Now, suck.”

You did, keeping your eyes on him as you licked your own come off of his skin, feeling Price’s beard brush against your chest, latching onto the nipple he loved to abuse, biting at it to make it stiffen. 

“Mmff-fuck,” the captain mumbled as he sucked on your skin, “I can’t wait for your milk to come in.”

“Dinnae even start. Gonnae make me come just thinkin’ about it, Cap’n,” Johnny agreed, bending his neck to suck from your other breast, imagining drinking from you. 

Simon pressed his fingers deeper down your throat, and because of Price’s earlier invasion, you took him easily, proud of yourself for not gagging, using your mouth and tongue to take Ghost’s hand as far as he wanted it to go. You could see what your performance was doing to him. His chest was rising and falling, breathing hard from the excitement. 

Gaz’s cock was now pounding into your ass with as much power as you could take, and as he increased his speed, you started to feel yourself come in a new way. The sparks were still there, but they were coming from somewhere dark and mysterious, flowing over you softly, like frothy waves of foam, ethereal and light. 

You reached back and grabbed his neck at the nape, digging your nails into his flesh, spurring him on. 

“Ungh, goddamnit,” he cried out, kissing your throat that he still held in his hand, biting you none too gently. 

“Kyle… please, I need… I need you,” you pulled your mouth away from Ghost and whispered to him, and with whatever strength he had left, he fucked his long shaft into your ass, feeling your beating pulse deep within your body. 

His mouth was right on your ear, and he whispered, 

“I’m coming, baby. I’m coming… I’m — ahngh!”

“Oh, fuck!” Soap lay his forehead on your other shoulder, and began to rut into you without any mercy, the idea of Gaz’s throbbing cock filling you up too much for him to bear. 

They held you between them, frozen in time, letting their cocks erupt inside of your warm belly, filling you with their load. As they pulled away, you heard the wet noise of their spend hitting the tile, pouring out of you in a lurid stream. You hissed from the empty feeling you were left with, and the only thing you could hold onto was the memory of the feeling. 

“You alright, love?” John asked you, petting your cheek. 

“It’s alright, I’ve got her. You lot can finish settin’ up. C’mon, love,” Ghost told them, swinging your limp body up into his arms and carrying you to the bathroom. 

Inside the large bathroom, you saw that they had packed all of your toiletry effects, and they were strewn about, tossed in bags, waiting to be organized. Simon sat you down on the edge of the tub and began to fill it, checking the temperature with his hand before helping you sit inside. 

The water was warm as it began to pool around you, and you had the pleasure of watching Ghost undress, preparing to join you. He was a tall man, but the tub was large, and you were eager to feel his body against yours again. 

In the bright light of the bathroom, his scars were on full display. They didn’t bother you, but they made you feel very protective. As if you had a time machine and could go back and slaughter the bastards who had made them. He caught you staring and teased you for it,

“You lookin’ for round two already, missus?”

You blushed, looking away shyly. 

“Nuh uh,” he chided, sinking into the tub behind you, “Where’s my nasty little slag who squirted for me in my kitchen, hm?”

“Si…” You played coy, snuggling back against him in the water, feeling his flesh slip against yours, just as warm. His furry belly jerked from his silent laughter against your back, and he used his huge hands to rub soap down your arms as he began to clean you. 

“Pretend all you want, love. I know the truth. You love being our filthy girl, innit that right?”

“You got me,” you sighed, letting him clean your body, feeling his hands rub you up and down, lingering on your breasts a little too long. He pulled at your nipples, soft at first and then cruelly, until you made a noise of protest. 

He teased you again, rubbing them in slow, agonizing circles, 

“You gonna let me have a taste, hm?”

“Huh?” You looked up at him over your shoulder, not understanding what he wanted at first. 

“When your milk comes in,” he used both hands to squeeze your tits, making them rise out of the water, pressing them up until they looked huge on your chest, “Bet they’re gonna be so full, so big. I read that book Johnny bought. Says your nipples might get darker. I’m ready to see that.”

“Are you sure? You might not like the way I look,” you said, testing his desire. 

“Bollocks. Dark nipples, huge tits, drippin’ milk, big swollen belly with my fuckin’ baby in it? You’re proper mad if you think that’s not what I want. Fuck, it’s all any of us can think about.”

“What else do you think about?” You asked dreamily, closing your eyes and letting him massage the soap into your breasts, squeezing them in a steady, slow pattern, comforting himself with their heavy softness.

“Think about hearin’ their laugh. About what color eyes they’ll have. Think about comin’ home to you and the lads. Christmas morning. All the wrapping paper torn up all over the floor. Think about crawlin’ into bed with you every damn night. Thinkin’ about holding them for the first time. About how much I love you.”

You opened your eyes then, looking up at him to see the truth, and when you saw how earnest he was, no longer hiding behind his snarky jokes, something in you opened. A door. Some new beginning. 

“I love you, too, Si.”

Idk how many more of these chapters I've got in me. Just submitting to the process, I guess. Do y'all still even want to read these? Who knows.

While you wait for the next installment, please consider checking out my other work. Thank you!

[ilovepedro]

frosted cookies | husband!frankie morales x wife!reader

Main masterlist

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~4.4k

Summary: You pack away an extra treat in your husband’s lunch. What happens when Frankie sees you’ve packed more than just some cookies? Cookies won’t be the only thing that’s frosted when he has his way with you.

Warnings: unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all!!), oral (f receiving), fingering, doggy style, missionary, praise kink, three (3) spanks, cum eating, teeniest bit of soft dom!Frankie, sickening fluff, after care, pet names (querida, hermosa, baby, etc), husband!Frankie being so in love and down bad for his wife, reader speaks some Spanish, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, some Spanish translations throughout.

A/N: can be read as part of the “just married” universe or a stand alone. did y’all think i forgot about a 500 follower treat?! hehehe i would never!! i’m back with a lil slice of domestic holiday bliss and smut with our guy, our husband! i’m just so down bad for Frankie, like there’s really no explaining myself. he’s everything. i want him so bad.🧎‍♀️anyway, happy Frankie friday everybody! hope y’all enjoy 🫶🏼 not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️

Divider by @saradika

“Jesus, querida. How many cookies are you gonna bake?” Frankie asks before popping one into his mouth. “Francisco! Ya basta! (Enough) Those are for tomorrow!” You yell, smacking your husband’s hand away from getting anymore cookies.

After tomorrow, you and Frankie are off for 10 days. The stress and anticipation of the festivities and just spending uninterrupted time together energizes you to work rapidly. You’ve been baking all day for your office’s Christmas party, whipping up an array of cookies and packaging them up to give out to your coworkers.

 Flour, powdered sugar, and icing bags are scattered throughout the counter. A bowl of icing sitting in the middle of the island and cookie cutters next to 3 trays of cookies. Powdered sugar coats your hands and icing splattered across your apron.

“Lo siento, bebita, (I'm sorry, baby girl)” he says through a muffled mouthful of cookie, rubbing circles on your lower back while he peppers kisses to your shoulder.

“I have to make sure there’s enough for everyone. 50 is good right? The whole office will be there, and I don’t want anyone to feel left out,” you ramble as you roll out the last batch of dough in between parchment paper. Frankie rubs up and down your arms as you cut them into shapes.

“50 is plenty, baby. You work too hard, mi amor. Is this the last batch?”

“Yeah, I’ll finally be done after this one comes out the oven,” you say as you place them onto the cookie sheet.

“Good. You need to rest, and I wanna have my wife to myself.” You turn around in his embrace and wrap your arms around his neck. “You sure no one will feel left out?”

A small gentle smile splays on his lips as he readjusts his grip on your hips. “No one will feel left out, baby. I promise. And if they do, then fuck ‘em. They don’t know how hard you work, or how kind you truly are,” he softly says. A relieved smile creeps onto your face as a toothy grin appears on his. He places a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips, you getting lost in him as the taste of him mixes with the sugary cookie he’d just eaten. Both of you sighing into one another, never getting enough of each other.

The oven timer dings, startling the both of you and breaking the kiss as you jump back a bit. The two of you giggling like a pair of children, Frankie places one last chaste kiss to your lips as you head to the oven. Feeling a playful swat to your ass, you turn around and playfully scold your husband as you remove the cookies out of the oven - the aroma of sugar and spice filling the air.

“How long’s this last batch gonna take, mi vida?” Frankie asks as you place the final batch of cookies in the oven. “Only 15 minutes, mi amor. Tener paciencia (have patience),” you say through a fit of giggles, laughing at your husband’s impatience. He scoffs, rolling his eyes as you stride towards him. Pulling him in for another kiss, his hands freely roam down to your ass, giving it a playful squeeze. Laughing into him, you pull away as you bark out a belly laugh, your husband mirroring you.

“Could you help me clean up, please baby? The faster we clean, the faster I’m all yours,” you taunt. “Of course, mi vida, you don’t even have to ask. Although, the incentive is nice,” he says with a smirk. The two of you swiftly maneuver throughout the kitchen while the cookies bake. Frankie clearing the counter as you wipe it down, and washing and drying dishes together - working in tandem to tidy up your kitchen. The oven timer dings once more, Frankie washing and drying the remaining dishes as you remove the last batch and set them on the cooling rack. As you remove your oven mitts, Frankie tosses the dish rag onto the counter and swoops behind you, engulfing you in his broad, taut arms while he litters kisses along your neck.

“All done, mi amor?” He asks against your skin, his mustache tickling you along with his eagerness, eliciting a laugh from you. “All done, mi amor,” you laugh, wrapping your arm around his neck to twirl the curls at the nape of his neck. “Vamos, mi esposa,” he says, whisking you away and up the stairs.

Laughter bubbling over the two of you as you rush up the stairs.

After tomorrow, it’s 10 days of this - uninterrupted bliss with each other.

Frankie plops down on the chair, groaning as time ticks by agonizingly slow. He runs a hand over his face, his wedding ring making contact with his cheek reminds him of you - just 4 more hours until he’s home with you.

Cracking open his lunchbox, he smiles as he spots the usual yellow sticky note that you pack in his lunch which lay atop some of the freshly baked cookies that you made last night. Picking it up, he reads the note:

“Enjoy your lunch, mi esposo hermoso. Can’t wait for you to frost my cookie when you get home ;)

-Con amor, su esposa”

Beneath it, a polaroid of you dressed in a crimson red babydoll with white fur lining the bust. It leaves little to the imagination as you display your breasts to the camera, a coy smile on your lips as white frosting runs down your lips and onto your chin, teasingly biting into one of the cookies you baked.

His breath hitches in his throat, eyes widening as he takes in your form. He’s hard as a fucking rock, his lunch now completely forgotten.

“‘S matter, boss? Wife forget to pack your juice or something?” A stupid rookie asks, laughing too hard at his own joke as he creeps up behind Frankie to catch a glimpse inside his lunchbox. Frankie immediately drops the polaroid back inside and flips the lid closed before the rookie can see it.

“Shut the hell up, Daniel,” Frankie grumbles as he rises to his feet, stomping out of the break room and into his tiny, cluttered office. He typically eats lunch here, wanting to get away from the fumes that permeate the shop, but the anticipation of your time off together made him antsy - seeking out a place without constant reminders of you as the day drags on.

That did absolutely nothing. Your boudoir polaroid having made his day better and worse simultaneously. You looked nothing short of a dream, but now his impatience is getting the better of him as his mind wanders to all the things he plans to do to you tonight. He groans, his cock still half hard as he unravels his lunch. He huffs sticking the polaroid in his wallet, aggressively nibbling at his lunch.

Could this day go by any slower?

He opens the door, tossing his keys into the bowl as he shuts and locks it. Trudging inside, he toes off his boots, pushing them to the side as he takes in your fully decorated home. His heart swells at the sight, knowing you were off work early today after your office party. Meaning you probably spent the entire afternoon decorating.

Garlands adorn every wall, the tree now fully decorated and the Christmas village sits atop the mantle. Twinkling lights warmly illuminate the room. The sprig of mistletoe hangs above the entryway to the kitchen, the smell of dinner and more baked goods permeating through the air mingling with the fresh pine scent of the tree.

You’ve gone full Christmas-mode and he can’t get enough of your domesticity - your ability to make every single thing you touch feel like home.

“Frankie?!” You yell faintly from the kitchen.

“Hermosa, I’m home!” He shouts as he shrugs off his brown utility jacket. Footsteps bound from the kitchen and into the hall. There you stand, in all your domestic glory with your apron around your front and a bit of flour on your cheek. 

You beam at him, happy your husband is finally home for the week. Your office is closed and so is the shop for the following week and then some for the holiday, now you have him all to yourself for the next 10 days. Practically flinging yourself into his arms, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a searing kiss. He laughs at your eagerness, his cock twitching in his pants as you tug him closer by his soft curls, deepening the kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, a soft moan escaping you and into Frankie.

It’s unclear who breaks the kiss first, but the both of you are heaving, panting for air. The smile returning to your face, a smug look appearing on your husband’s face. 

“Hi, baby. I missed you.” Your hands snake up his chest and you remove his cap from his head, setting it on the table by the door, carding your fingers through his hair. His smile softens, eyes gleaming with love. “Hi, mi amor. I missed you too. I see you got up to some stuff while I was gone,” he says, swirling circles on your lower back. You giggle, knowing you can be a bit elaborate when it comes to decorating.

“‘S not too much?” You ask. He quickly shakes his head. “Never, mi amor,” he nearly whispers, reassuring you before capturing your lips in another kiss. Walking you backwards into the kitchen, he presses you up against the kitchen counter, catching a whiff of something baking in the oven again.

He pulls back, forehead resting against yours as he swipes away the flour that’s smudged on your cheek. “You’re still baking, mi vida? I thought you were finished,” he asks. “I am, but I wanted to make you something, a treat to celebrate our vacation,” you ramble. A chuckle rumbles in his sturdy chest.

“Got the most delicious treat right here,” he tsks, you chuckle rolling your eyes at his cheesiness as butterflies erupt in your belly. His hardening length presses against your core as he dives in to litter your neck with kisses. “Even got a picture to prove it,” he rasps against you. A small gasp escapes you.

So he did see the picture.

“Oh really? Can I see this picture, amor?” Your voice breathy and titillating, feigning oblivion as a smirk plastered on your face while he sucks on your neck.

“I’m sure you know what it looks like. In fact, you’re gonna let me recreate it with the real thing, baby.” His voice low and husky now as his clothed, hard cock ruts into you.

A wave of arousal pools in your panties. “I am?” You breathlessly ask, still keeping up the innocent act.

“Mhmm. Gonna be covered in me. Isn’t that what you wanted, princesa? Huh? You couldn’t wait for me to get home and frost your cookie, hermosa?” He asks as his lips ghost over yours now, emphasizing the reference to the note you’d put in his lunchbox this morning. You snort, eyes shutting as heat courses through your veins as he quotes the note, and warmth blooming in your belly.

A light smack to your thigh reels you back in, eyes flying open. His eyes filled with lust, pupils darkening. Your eyes glossy and hazy, feeling tipsy just off his embrace, his words.

“Y-yes, Frankie. ‘S what I wanted - want. Want you s-so bad, mi amor,” you mumble against his ear as he resumes peppering kisses along your chest. Humming against you, your words going straight to his cock, which you feel as he presses into your core a bit harder.

“Want you so bad, too, princesa. Been wanting you all day. Y’know how hard it was to keep it together seeing that picture of you? Look so fucking sexy, fuck. Had to stop myself from cumming in my jeans like a fucking teenager,” he mutters into your ear. You giggle, taking great joy in knowing your husband wants you just as bad as you do, maybe even more.

He bites down on your earlobe, your giggles quickly dissipating into a moan. “But what you did today was so bad, mi vida. Distracted me all fucking day from work, could barely concentrate. I think you just made it on the naughty list. What do you think, baby? Are you naughty or nice?”

“N-nice. Nice, baby,” you whimper as Frankie unties your apron and smoothly tosses it on the counter. 

“Mmmm, you sure about that? You gonna be a nice, good girl for me and let me have my way with you?” You furiously nod, your neediness growing into an impatient monster. 

He laughs at your eagerness, relishing in how needy you are for him. “Come on, princesa. Show me how good you are,” he rasps before releasing you from his grasp, grabbing your hand as you two stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Excitement stirring within you as he leads you to your room.

Frankie flings the door open, eagerly bringing you into his embrace again. He cups your cheeks, leaning in as his lips engulf yours in a messy, heated kiss. It’s all tongue as teeth gnash together, moans flying out from both of you while you strip each other down. Frankie groans as he discards your bra onto the floor. You can’t help the moan that escapes you as you shuck off your husband’s briefs, his hard cock springing free, weeping and red.

“On the bed, hermosa,” he demands, his timbre husky and low. You scramble onto the bed, laying on your back, displaying yourself for your husband. “Spread your legs.”

Your brain on autopilot, operating as if Frankie has a remote to control your actions.

Legs spread, the cool air of the room hits your sopping core, a shiver running down your spine. Frankie licks his lips, pupils blown black and wide swirling with lust. He stalks towards you, laying down and settling himself in front of your aching pussy. He grabs your thighs, placing them on either side of his head. The frigidity of his wedding band burning into your skin, contrasting the blaze that burns from within you as you anticipate your husband’s next move.

You pant as the excitement transforms into a forest fire within your core, Frankie so close to where you desperately need him. He presses firm kisses to your thighs, your breath catching in your throat again. Kissing and nipping at your thighs, your neediness causes your hips to involuntarily buck into Frankie - his nose catching on your clit for a split second. A shocking loud moan escapes you as Frankie pushes you back down on the bed.

“Just like you told me last night, mi vida. And like how I had to tell myself after what you pulled this afternoon: tener paciencia,” he practically growls against your thighs. You whine as his teasing resumes. You know this is payback for the polaroid, making him wait all day for some relief. Your husband is the most patient man you know, even when he wants nothing more than to take you any chance he can get.

His desire for you though, constantly burning, so you know this must be killing him too. However, the sweet revenge of seeing you fall apart and writhe under him, begging him to do something is the most delicious reward.

“Frankie,” you desperately sigh, eyes closing as he presses kisses to your mound. “When have I ever not given you what you wanted? Hmm, baby?” He asks against your core, your eyes opening and to lock with his gaze. “Never, mi amor,” you nearly whisper, it comes out much more rushed than intended.

“Tranquila, mi vida. I’m gonna take care of you and this pretty pussy. I got you, baby,” he says with one last kiss to your thigh. Without preamble, he licks a long, languid stripe up your folds. A relieved moan tumbling from your lips as you bury your head further into the pillow. He repetitiously licks up your glistening core, your clit throbbing for some attention. Your husband knows your body like the back of his hand, as if he can read your mind.

He flicks your precious pearl with a steady rhythm, wrapping his lips around it. You twitch underneath him, eyes heavy and glazed.

“Oh fuck, Frankie!” You keen as your hands fly to tug on his hair, his rhythmic, skilled tongue bringing you closer to the edge. Your weeping cunt clenches around nothing as a wave of slick seeps from your hole. He snakes a hand up to cup your breast, flicking and suckling your clit as he rolls your nipple in between his thick, calloused fingers, alternating breasts. Your breathing is ragged as you moan, Frankie groaning and humming into you. The vibrations rumbling from within him launching you higher into your climax, teetering on lift off.

“Feels s-so f-fucking good, Frankie. Always s-so fucking g-good,” you babble. He pulls away for a second, his chin coated in your slick. “Come on, baby. Know you’re close. Let go, hermosa,” he rasps right above your swollen cunt. He dives back in, moving his hand from your breast to your entrance, two fingers sliding home with the amount of slick pouring from you.

A sharp gasp escapes you, eyes rolling back at the welcomed intrusion as Frankie rapidly and steadily alternates between sucking and flicking your clit. His fingers hitting that spongy spot only his fingers and cock can reach. The coil in your belly snaps as you’re launched into your orgasm, stars appearing behind your eyes as your vision blurs white hot.

Frankie helps you ride out your high as you scream and writhe beneath him, lapping up every last drop of slick gushing from your throbbing pussy. Desperately trying not to rut his hips into the mattress, he groans at the sweet, tangy taste of you that he can never get enough of. Your thighs tremble as you slowly return back to Earth, whimpering as Frankie presses soft kisses to your thighs.

“Did so good for me, baby. Always so fucking good for me,” he hushes you, peppering kisses up your body.

You fight to keep your eyes open, catching sight of your husband soaked in your release as his mustache and patchy beard gleams in the warm glow of the bedroom.

Pulling him down, you connect your lips with his, both of you moaning into one another. Wrapping your arms around his broad, strong shoulders as you tug on his curls. His mouth licking into yours, letting you taste your sweet slick on your tongue. Sweet and heady, the kiss melds into something sinful as you feel Frankie’s hard, leaking cock rubs right above your core. Precum smearing on your belly, Frankie pulls back and moans at the friction.

“Not done with you yet, querida,” he says gruffly as he lifts himself off you. “Turn around,” he demands. You recognize that tone: he’s gonna have his way with you tonight. A shiver runs down your spine as a new rush of arousal burns brightly in your core. You swiftly lay on your stomach.

“On your knees, baby.” His voice husky and firm. You readjust yourself and settle on your knees, balancing yourself on your forearms. Feeling the mattress dip behind you, another spark of arousal jolts in your pussy, your belly warm and full of anticipation. You can hear Frankie pumping himself in his fist as he lines his hips up with yours.

“See, you can be a good girl. Knew you could do it, mi vida.” You moan at his praise. His large hands caress your ass, engulfing your cheeks in each hand, admiring the view. You teasingly wiggle your ass, Frankie-drunk giggles bubbling over your lips and spilling into the pillow. A smack comes down on your ass, the sting of it making your pussy throb. Moaning as you turn your head to the side, locking eyes with Frankie.

His chocolate irises invisible, eyes completely darkened and filled to the brim with lust.

“Don’t start.” You nod, drool pooling under your mouth, your patience wearing thin. “Be good, baby,” he rasps as he lines his cock up with your entrance. His tip prodding your aching hole, as one of his hands rests on your ass. He slowly slides in, taking his time bottoming out. Both of you moaning in tandem as his cock splits you open, the sting blurring the lines of pain and pleasure. You squeeze around him as he fully sheathes himself inside you, never fully getting used to his size despite being married to him now.

“Alright, baby. Alright, baby,” He hisses, roughly kneading your ass. “Come on now. Relax, baby. I got you,” he calmly whispers. You feel yourself relax, unclenching and releasing him from your vice grip. “There we go. Good girl,” he says as he leans down to press a kiss behind the shell of your ear.

He slowly slides out from you, nearly pulling out all the way until he slams his hips back into yours. His cock punching your cervix.

“Frankie!” You gasp, moaning as you grip the sheets. He repeats the motion, grunting as he cants his hips. “Tightest, sweetest fucking pussy ever. Fuck, always feel so fucking good, baby. You were made for me, made to take my cock. Huh, querida?” He asks, breathing ragged as he fucks in and out of you. You nod and moan in agreement, words escaping you as he brings you close to your second orgasm. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to slowly creep up on you, still reeling from the sensitivity of your previous one.

Another smack hits your ass, clenching around him in your tight heat. You love when Frankie gets a bit rough with you.

“Words, querida. Come on, you were doing so good,” he taunts. You swallow through your moans, unaware of the desperate tears of pleasure that were pooling in your eyes.

“Y-yes, baby. Made for you, made for your cock. S-so fucking good to me, Frankie. L-luckiest girl in the w-world,” you babble. You feel him twitch inside you before he pulls out.

Whining at the loss of your husband’s cock, you’re suddenly being flipped on your back. Before you can give what’s happening a second thought, Frankie slides back into you. Your calves pressed against his strong chest, your ankles resting atop his taut shoulders as he bends you in half. His pace rapidly picking up, his thrusts growing sloppy.

“‘S right, baby. Made for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world, querida. Won the wife lottery,” he rasps lowly, pressing a kiss to your calf.

The love you have for this man is overwhelming. His existence constantly gracing your mind, his unwavering support, his unconditional love, never feeling like you’re not enough for him, his kindness, his patience, how gentle he is with you even when he’s roughing you up.

“Eres la esposa más hermosa y perfecta del mundo. (You're the most beautiful and perfect wife in the world) So lucky to call you my wife, baby,” he grunts, punctuating each word with his thrusts. His sweet words toss you over the edge, fat tears of euphoria and love cascade down your cheeks as you scream his name.

An endless stream of slick seeps from your cunt, coating Frankie in your release. The squelching sound filling the air mixed with pants and moans is sinful, obscene.

“Fuck yes, baby. Give it to me, all of it. Soak my cock, querida. So fucking good - you, this pussy, our life, fuck yes,” he babbles. You mindlessly move your legs from his hold to wrap around his middle, bringing him in closer as you ride out your high.

“Love you so much, Frankie. Best husband in the world, come on, mi amor. Cum for me, need your cum,” you whine, giving him one last good squeeze. Frankie fills you up with half his load before pulling out and coating your mound in his cum. Endless moans streaming from you both. Frankie cums for a long time. 

The picture really did a number on him.

Ropes of his spend coats your sex and your belly. Unable to control yourself, you reach down and swipe two fingers through his cum and lick them clean. Relishing the delicious, salty taste of your husband. Frankie groans as he sees you suck your fingers clean, gathering cum on his fingers and stuffing it back into your cunt. You moan around your fingers at the feeling of his thick, long fingers stuffing you full of his cum.

Releasing your fingers with a pop, Frankie pounces on you - his fingers brushing against your lips, prying your mouth open. You suck them into your mouth, an animalistic groan rumbling from within you as you taste the combination of you two. He removes his fingers, adjusting himself to pin you down, caging you in between his large biceps.

He dives in for a kiss, it’s slower - savoring the taste of you and him on your tongue as he soaks in the love which radiates off your body and into his soul. “Love you so much, mi vida. Para siempre (Always),” he whispers against your lips. You cup his cheeks, a soft smile on your lips as your eyes glimmer with contentment and love.

“Para siempre,” you repeat. Another firm, lingering kiss is pressed to your lips before he rises to his feet, padding to your shared bathroom. The faucet turns on, your usual routine of aftercare beginning. Frankie returns with the warm rag, gently cleaning you up.

“Frosted your cookie pretty good, huh?” He asks with a smirk on his lips, curls in disarray.

You bark out a belly laugh, unable to control your laughter at your husband’s stupid joke.

“Francisco!” You squeal. Frankie tsks and rolls his eyes. “Oh after all the shit we just did, that’s where you draw the line?!” He playfully asks, a toothy grin on his face.

“No, I just thought you forgot about that stupid note!” You say through your laughter, Frankie bursting into a fit of giggles with you. “Wasn’t stupid, and how could I ever forget that and that picture?” He asks as he continues to clean you up.

“Speaking of, I’m not even gonna question when and how you took that picture, but next time, I’m helping you,” he says as he rises up and walks back into the bathroom to discard the rag into the laundry basket. “Whatever you say, mi amor,” you tease from the bed.

He returns, playfully pouncing on the bed beside you. Another fit of giggles erupts from you.

“That’s right, baby. Whatever I say,” he says with a wink and a smile, interlacing your fingers with his - toying with your wedding ring as he places a chaste kiss to your lips before saddling up beside you.

i love husband!Frankie sm 😫😔

wrote this on a bit of a whim, i had no idea what i wanted to do, i just knew i wanted to write a lil christmasy somethin-somethin for y'all 🩷

i hope y'all enjoyed!!! thank you for reading 🫶🏼

tag list: @nostalxgic @sweetercalypso @undrthelights @gracieheartspedro @jenispunk @joelsgreys @bastardmandennis @party-hearses @tinygarbage @mandoisapunk @javierpena-inatacvest @pedgito @tupelomiss @pedrostories @harriedandharassed

[thelocalbanyan]

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[thestylesplash]

Jungle Animals Kimono Robe + Style With a Style Link Up

It’s that time of year when temperatures can fluctuate throughout the day, and if (like me) you’re riding the perimenopause rollercoaster, well that adds another dimension. I find myself changing tops, putting on/taking off cardigans frequently. The solution, I’ve found, is light layers. I love how versatile this jungle animals kimono robe is A silk kimono robe works beautifully as an…

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Harry and yn and there two kids on holiday and fans come up to them and harry asks them to respect there privacy and all that?

Caribbean Privacy.

my masterlist || ask my anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here !!

authors note - first blurb of 2024 people and it’s based on the brand new photos we got, so enjoy my loves.

word count - 1.7k

in which, you and harry decided to go for a little family holiday to start the new year off on the right foot, and went to a caribbean island, where your just trying to enjoy yourselves, and spend some quality time with your two children, when a couple of fans spot your husband.

As the first light of the new year streamed through the curtains, you woke up to the sweet realization that your partner had planned a surprise holiday to the Caribbean.

The joy in your heart was mirrored in the excited expressions of Kai, your energetic five-year-old, and little Lexi, who had just turned six months old. The promise of sun-soaked beaches and turquoise waters made the early morning hustle of packing bags and herding the family to the airport an adventure in itself.

Arriving at your tropical destination, the sound of gentle waves and the warmth of the sun embraced you. The resort's palm-fringed surroundings set the stage for a family retreat filled with laughter and cherished moments.

The holiday would be lasting a total of two weeks and so far the four of you had been there for four out of a possible fourteen.

The first day was spent chilling and getting the kids into a routine, the second day was filled with sunbathing and the third day you took the kids to do some activities so that they wouldn’t get too bored.

It was the afternoon of the fourth day at the resort, for a majority of the morning you had all gone for a walk, trying to get your bearings of where you were going to be staying.

It was nearing one pm now, and the four of you were making your way to the hotel outdoor restaurant, where other families, friends and couples were currently sat, all decked out in summer clothes just like you and your family were.

The rhythmic roll of the stroller, carrying the enchanting Lexi, created a soothing background to the lively atmosphere. Harry, with Kai perched on his shoulders, exuded paternal pride as his son's tiny fingers playfully explored the newly sprouting hair after a recent buzz cut.

The infectious giggles from Kai echoed through the space, forming a symphony of joy that seemed to harmonize with the clinking of cutlery and murmurs of other guests.

Just moments later, a courteous waiter approached, exuding the charm of the Caribbean hospitality.

"Good afternoon! Can I start you off with some drinks?" he inquired with a warm smile.

Harry, with a chuckle, ordered a beer for himself, emphasising that it was a well-deserved vacation treat.

Kai, his eyes sparkling, announced proudly, "Chocolate milkshake, please!"

You joined in, opting for a refreshing mojito to complement the tropical ambiance. The waiter, noting down the orders, promised to return shortly with the concoctions that would add an extra layer of delight to your family gathering.

The backdrop of the restaurant's tropical charm provided the perfect setting for a moment of connection.

"This surprise vacation was a brilliant idea," you remarked, a smile playing on your lips.

Harry, his eyes filled with satisfaction, responded, "M’figured we all needed a break, and what better way t’start the year?"

Kai, still perched atop his father's shoulders, chimed in, "I like the beach, Mommy! Can we build a sandcastle tomorrow?"

His enthusiasm was infectious, prompting laughter from both you and Harry.

"Absolutely, buddy! We'll build the biggest sandcastle the beach ‘as ever seen," Harry promised, ruffling Kai's hair.

November 2019, you gave birth to Kai Robin Styles, at a home birth in yours and Harry’s London home.

As the conversation continued, you found yourselves reflecting on the year that had passed and the excitement of what lay ahead.

“ ‘Member when Lex was just a tiny bump?" Harry mused, glancing affectionately at your baby girl. "Now look at her, enjoying her first vacation. Time really does fly,"

You had gone into Labour with Lexi Anne Styles after Harry’s Show in Warsaw, the birth wasn’t very traumatic but the fact that you have birth in the backstage area of a stadium add a million different stress levels.

The waiter returned with a tray of drinks, delivering a frothy beer for Harry, a velvety chocolate milkshake for Kai, and a refreshing mojito for yourself.

The clinking of glasses marked the beginning of a shared toast.

"To family adventures and new beginnings," Harry proposed, raising his beer.

It wasn’t long before you had placed your food orders, and then it was back to chit chatting.

Lexi began to express her hunger with soft whimpers from the comfort of her stroller. Harry, always attuned to his children's needs, suggested, "Looks like someone's ready f’a meal. How about I feed her?"

Agreeing with a smile, you watched affectionately as Harry gently lifted Lexi from the stroller. With practised ease, he retrieved the pre-made bottle from the baby bag. Cradling Lexi in his arms, he began a tender dialogue, showering her with words of endearment.

"Y’know, Love bug, y’the most perfect baby in the world. Mom and I are so lucky t’have you," he whispered, his words infused with a genuine warmth that mirrored the love you both felt for your little one.

As Harry spoke to Lexi, your gaze shifted to Kai, who was deeply immersed in coloring his book. His tiny fingers danced across the paper, creating vibrant strokes that mirrored the lively atmosphere of the Caribbean surroundings. The restaurant transformed into a canvas of family moments — the quiet focus of an older brother, the nurturing presence of a father, and the unspoken connection between mother and daughter.

Amidst the lively ambiance of the restaurant, you couldn't help but notice a group of girls at a nearby table who seemed to have recognized your husband. Whispers and excited glances were exchanged among them, and you could see them mustering the courage to approach him for a photo.

Sensing their intentions, you leaned in to Harry and discreetly warned him about the approaching fangirls.

Harry, with a resigned sigh, glanced over his shoulder and nodded.

"Just ignore ‘em, love. It happens," he reassured you, his eyes reflecting the weariness of a man accustomed to such encounters.

The prospect of being in the spotlight, even during a family dinner, was not a new experience for him. Grateful that your kids were facing away, oblivious to the attention, you both focused on enjoying the moment together as a family.

As the girls behind you worked up the courage to approach, you and Harry engaged in casual conversation, attempting to divert attention from the brewing fan encounter.

"Remember that time in Paris?" you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Harry chuckled, because he knew exactly what you were talking about.

"Good times," he agreed, sharing a smile with you, appreciating the effort to shield your family from the attention that occasionally came with his public persona.

“H, there definitely coming.”

Harry, glancing over his shoulder, nodded in acknowledgment.

"Yeah, I see them. Just give them a friendly smile if they approach, and I'll handle it. S’not let it bother us," he suggested, his voice carrying a hint of resignation.

He was no stranger to such encounters, having navigated the challenges of fame before. The weariness in his eyes reflected a desire for a quiet family dinner undisturbed by fan interactions.

The restaurant buzzed with activity as the group of excited fans approached your table.

"Harry, we're such huge fans! Can we get a quick photo and an autograph?" one of them eagerly requested, holding out a notepad and a pen.

With a gracious smile, Harry acknowledged their enthusiasm.

"M’grateful f’your support, but at the moment, we're trying to have a quiet family dinner, so I won't be able to do autographs right now," he gently explained, a polite refusal delivered with a sense of understanding.

Despite his explanation, the fans persisted, urging for both a photo and an autograph. The atmosphere at the table shifted as Lexi, nestled in Harry's lap, started to express her unease with a few whimpers.

Sensing his sister's discomfort, Kai moved closer to your side, seeking comfort in the familiar presence of family. Harry, noticing the subtle disruption, addressed the fans with empathy.

The fans, eager to capture a moment with their idol, continued to press for both a photo and an autograph. Harry, maintaining his composure, gently reiterated, "I really appreciate y’support, but right now, We're just trying t’enjoy a family dinner without any interruptions."

The fans, realizing the impact on the children, paused for a moment. Harry, sensing the need to reinforce the boundary, continued,

"Thanks for understanding." His words were delivered with a blend of gratitude and a protective instinct for his family.

As the fans reluctantly stepped back, a mix of disappointment and understanding painted their expressions. Your family returned to the rhythm of your evening, attempting to reclaim the sense of tranquillity that had been momentarily disrupted. Lexi, still cradled in Harry's arms, gradually settled, comforted by the familiar presence of her parents and brother.

Harry, with a reassuring smile, turned his attention back to the dinner table.

"Sorry about that, m’love," he whispered to you, the gentle apology carrying the weight of the delicate balancing act that came with his fame.

"It's alright," you responded, understanding the complexities of navigating public and private moments.

Kai, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, looked up from his colouring book with a curious expression.

"Why did those people want pictures, Mommy?" he asked, his innocent curiosity breaking the momentary tension.

You looked down to his eye level, offering a simple yet honest explanation, "Sometimes, people recognize Daddy from his work, and they want to say hello or take a picture because they really like what he does."

Harry, appreciating your delicate handling of the situation, chimed in,

"That's right, buddy. Daddy's work makes people happy, and sometimes they just want to share that happiness with us."

Sensing his sons discomfort, Harry gently ushered him over, placing him on the other side of his lap.

"Hey, Kai, come here, sweet boy," Harry said softly, creating a protective space for him. As Kai nestled in closer,

Harry continued, "I want you t’know that no matter what happens, Daddy will always keep you safe. Those moments might be a bit strange, but we're a team, okay?"

Kai, his big brown eyes searching for reassurance, nodded in understanding. "

Team," he echoed, a small smile breaking through the remnants of unease.

Harry wrapped his arm around Kai, holding him close to his chest.

"Exactly, little man. We're a team, and nothing will ever change that," Harry affirmed, his voice a soothing melody of love and comfort.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 4

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 3, Part 5

TW: this has death, mentions of child abuse, and more heavy topics. Remember that SAGAU is (usually) a yandere au and yanderes are a warning by themselves. Plus SAGAU is a cult, that makes it 10x worse depending on how it is. You've been warned.

You wake up feeling refreshed for once. You managed to get a full sleep and when you felt your face, the mask was still there. As you get off the bed your foot touches the bag the clothes were brought in. Now with more clothing options, you take a shower ready to properly wash your body.

The shower attached to your room was small and clean. This wasn't earth so no shower or bathtub but what they had was the closest to it since the Kamisato's were rich. In fact, you would even say it's better than Earth. Were the water bills here as high as it is on Earth?

You soaked in the warm water as you scrubbed away the filth. From the dirt to the dried blood and the pus from the electric wounds. Your hands traced the faint scars that covered your body. Little nicks from knives to full-on stab wounds from a certain relative.

Some days they felt like battle scars. You looked at them proud of how far you've come, how much you've survived from. Other days or most days you should say, they felt like your failures were on display. Whether from lack of awareness or for failing to save him.

The thought of him still makes you sad even though it's been years since it happened. It seems being in another world in a whole new situation couldn't shake his influence from your life. You aren't completely sure if that's a good or bad thing.

You finish your bath and apply first-aid to the minor wounds. You were quite skilled in this area from years of practice. Looking through the bag with a critical eye you choose one of the new outfits. It's unlike anything on earth. Both in style and fabric. Actually that's probably cause you were never able to afford high-quality clothes like this.

In typical Genshin fashion, it was asymmetrical with many accessories. You left most of the accessories in the bag and only wore the body suit pieces with the shirt and pants. Your feet cried in relief with the new socks and shoes.

As you finish doing your hair, someone knocks on the door. You open it to see a servant handing you a tray of food.

"Good morning, I'm here to deliver your food and a message." You take the tray from them and listen.

"The weekly festival and ritual for the creator will be happening this afternoon. As such Lord Kamisato has requested that you leave for Ritou after it. 'An oracle should attend even if not publicly. Especially as it's the Kamisato Clan's turn this week.' That is what Lord Kamisato message says."

Fuck. A ritual and festival for you? That's just begging for your bad luck to bite you in the ass again. You can already see yourself accidentally meeting Ei there.

"Thoma will bring you there after lunch. If you have any more questions please don't hesitate to ask." The servant gives you a moment to voice any questions before leaving.

Everything you wanted to ask isn't something they could have answered so it was best to wait till Thoma picked you up. You set the tray down and begin eating, it seemed this day wasn't going to be any less hectic than yesterday.

You were stuck in the estate while waiting for Thoma to pick you up. You couldn't leave in fear of meeting an enemy and dying. You may be the creator and should be a god therefore immortal. But did you really want to test that? No. You've skimmed by death enough times to know it's painful.

Trying to be productive you thought back on when you first arrived on Seirai Island. Now that you have a good identity with the Kamisato's approval you need to worry about living difficulties.

How will you get mora? A job would be best but you need one that allows you to travel around. You couldn't risk getting attached to one place in case your identity is compromised. It also can't be stationed in Inazuma meaning Komaniya Express was out of the question. The Adventurers' Guild was the only option.

You could probably sign up sometime during the festival but that could be risky if Ei requests their records to search for you. If the opportunity arises then you'll sign up today, if not then you'll do it in Liyue.

Since you'll be traveling around then a home or apartment isn't necessary. You'll probably need some camping gear to sleep and cook. Thankfully your life on earth has already taught you what you do and don't need. Plus a weightless game bag with little to no limit is priceless.

Now the hardest part is how you'll deal with the enemies. You don't know how to wield a weapon outside of a pocket knife and you had no controllable elemental powers. (The anemo and geo that helped you yesterday did not count. You couldn't actively call upon them.)

Learning a weapon was hard. A brand new skill and you weren't even sure which would work best with you. No vision, delusion (not that you would ever use one), gnosis, or main character powers like the traveler. You were really in a tight position, would the Guild even hire you?

The moment you think that you almost laugh at yourself. If reckless Pallad who was so weak he couldn't run away from slimes. Clueless Lynn that couldn't find apples or sunsettias unless they were handed to her. And Tiantian who doesn't even know what the Adventurer's Guild does could all be hired, then so can you.

That doesn't fix the initial problem as they all stay in their nations while you'll be traveling. Hilichurls and other monsters' aggressiveness may have been exaggerated for the games sake. But that doesn't mean they aren't aggressive and can't attack you.

A series of knocks matching a melody are heard on the door. Were you really deep in thought for that long?

Opening the door, Thoma stands on the other side with a smile. "Y/N, are you ready to get going? The festival is going to start soon and my lord went early with my lady to prepare the ritual. I can show you around it while we wait for the main event."

His fast-paced speech showed off just how excited he was. It was a cute sight. Would this count as a date?

"Yeah, I'm ready to go. Everything I have is in my bag."

"Perfect then let's get going." Thoma takes your hand and leaves the estate with you. You begin the trek with Thoma when you remember your original questions about the ritual.

"So this must be pretty popular if it's done every week. In the message Ayato sent me, he said it was the Yashiro Commission's turn. Does that mean the other Commissions take the other weeks? Who does the last week?"

"The last week is a collaboration of the Tri-Comission with the Elctro Archon in charge. We take the first week, the second week is the Kanjou Commission, and the third week is the Tenryou Commission. It's courtesy for each commissioner to attend them all but the Electro Archon only attends hers."

So no accidentally running into Ei at the festival? Perfect but you'll still be on guard. Ei may be the biggest threat but you haven't forgotten the others. Ayato, Yae, and Heizou were the top people to avoid to keep your identity. You had no choice but to meet Ayato and even though it worked out, you didn't want a repeat of that.

"Then the last one must be the most exciting. Can you tell me more about what to expect?" Thoma helps you past the rocky path as you are halfway to Inazuma City. His grip is tight when you jump off a particularly steep ledge.

"When we get there the ritual won't start yet but the festival will be in full swing. You'll be free to walk around and look at the stalls. Food, drinks, games, merchandise of the creator, and even some small plays."

"Merchandise and plays?" It's weird thinking that you have official merch. Especially since no one knows that you are the face of said merchandise. You'll probably need to buy some to upkeep your oracle schtick.

"Yup! Merchandise can range from posters, clothing, plushies, and even decorative food. The scriptures say that the creator is especially fond of F/F." Wow, they even know your favorite food.

"Would they be selling the actual food at the festival too?" Please say yes. You've been dying to eat something from your world. Teyvat is great and you don't miss your old life but that doesn't mean you don't miss the things you used to have there.

"Of course they do! Everyone loves to experience what the creator loves to feel closer to them. As for the plays, they differ every so often. Sometimes it's the classic 'Creator making Teyvat' while sometimes it's something more farfetched like 'Creator using the traveler and acolytes for their will'."

You're not sure if your wish is arrogant but you kinda want to see one of these plays. Hopefully, if you have the time you can watch one before the festival ends. You can see Inazuma City coming closer and closer.

"Then what exactly is the ritual?"

Thoma smiles mischievously at your insistent question. "You'll just have to wait and see. Since the creator sees through you best, we wanted it to be a surprise."

Sighing you give up, it didn't really matter since you'll be seeing it in person. You climb the steps and finally look around as the surroundings slowly got more colorful. Banners of you with a gold cloak on are situated all around.

Awed you let Thoma lead you deeper into the city. Many stalls were set up with everything Thoma said. The people were no longer NPCs with similar models and nearly identical clothes. Instead, people of all types were chatting as they walked the streets. Colorful kimonos, yukatas, and what were those called? Happi? Either way, the sheer variety and amount of people stunned you. The 'crowds' in Genshin always looked lackluster so this was a wonderful surprise.

All around you could hear everyone speaking about someone. About you.

"What a beautiful work of art. I'm sure the creator would be pleased if I hung this up in my house."

"The perfect figurine of the creator. I'm sure this shows only a fraction of their perfection."

"Mommy, can I please see the play? Mr. Sorahiko promised to do the play about the creator and the archons. It's my favorite one!"

"Yet again I had enough rent and a free day to attend the first ritual of the month. Our beloved creator always looks out for us."

Man, you weren't sure how they would react if they knew you were the creator. In fact would you even still be the same if you lived a year or two as the creator? You're most likely to get a savior or god complex judging by how they talk about you.

Thoma smiles at the sight of your excitement. The way your eyes never stop on one place for too long. Your fidgeting as if you can't wait to be freed and explore. He had made sure to have this time off to spend it with you. He wanted to spend as much time with you until you left.

"Y/N, I'll show you the best spots and places. Trust me when I say that-"

"THOMA!" Thoma is cut off by the yell of his name. The way his eyelids drop and his lips scowl for a second show his annoyance. Was this person super annoying or something?

It's an old man with balding white hair and a slightly hunched back. He's behind the counter of Shimura's restaurant. He must be the owner, Shimura Kanbei.

"Thoma get over here! I need to speak with you!" Yeah, you can definitely understand Thoma's annoyance now. From what you can remember Shimura only ever bitched about Uyuu restaurant. But he was also a samurai so maybe that's why he's so rowdy?

Thoma smiles apologetically at you and says, "Just give me a minute please." You nod and watch Thoma go to Shimura. They talk and Thoma seems very insistent on something while Shimura keeps refusing. Seems Thoma lost the argument by the way he walks back to you with a disappointed expression.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I won't be able to spend time with you like I wanted. I owe Mr. Shimura a favor and he wants to cash it in now. I tried to convince him to let me repay it another time but it seems he needs it now. Again I'm really sorry Y/N."

Thoma's head was hanging and his eyes were closed with resignation. It was like looking at a sad puppy who was being punished for breaking his toy. You can't resist reaching over to pat his hair.

His eyes shoot open in confusion but he doesn't move away. He only stares at you with an unreadable expression and an embarrassed flush. You can't help but laugh a little and move your hand away after getting your fill of patting him.

"Sorry if that was sudden. You just looked really cute, like a puppy. You don't have to apologize for doing your job Mr. Fixer. This isn't the last time we'll see each other so go ahead and help the old man."

He looks away with a smile when you call him cute. He enjoys the way his face feels hot when you are around. The feeling of your hand on his hair was surprising but very nice. He wished you left it there a little longer. Maybe even forever.

"Thank you Y/N, I'll finish this up quickly and then join you! But before I forget, here, this is for you from my lord and lady." Thoma takes out a thick pouch and hands it to you.

The clinking, weight, and shape of the pouch give it away immediately. You open it a little to see loads of mora inside it. You could kiss Ayato, Ayaka and Thoma. You were no longer broke! Eagerly you put it into your bag for safekeeping.

"Use the money for whatever you wish. It's a present from them."

'I'll be sure to thank them when I see them. And thank you too Thoma for delivering it and escorting me here. Now go finish helping Shimura, we can hang out afterward."

Thoma smiles and jogs back to Shimura. You wave goodbye before strolling down the street. Once you get to a less crowded area you sit down and open your bag.

The game screen pops up and although the pouch is no longer there, your mora has gone way up. Instead of 108 mora, it's now 150, 108 mora. Knowing someone else gave you this money purely for whatever you want is really nice... Is this how Zhongli feels whenever Hu Tao and Childe pay for him?

Well, you won't be using most of this money, an oracle that wishes to stay hidden should live a frugal lifestyle. Plus you never know when you'll need to pay someone off to keep your face hidden. Even still spending some of the money now to enjoy this festival wouldn't be that bad. Right?

With renewed enthusiasm, you set off to explore the stalls. You make sure to keep your eyes peeled for any signs of Yae or Heizou. But it's all smooth sailing.

You get to a stall selling F/F and buy one. The taste is wonderful even though it's not exactly the same as the one you used to eat on Earth. Spotting a different stall selling Tricolor Dango, you get closer.

There's a little sign that says. "Tricolor Dango Creator Edition! Limited Sale!" It seems even here merchants won't lose a chance to make mora. The Dango is blue, gold, and purple colored. Curious you buy one and try it.

It's actually really good and it felt slightly nostalgic. Looking at the second one you bought, you stare at it trying to recall where you've seen the colors before.

It hits you that it's the same colors of the Fates you wish for in Genshin. Blue for the 3 stars, purple for the 4 stars, and gold for the 5 stars. They sold this as the 'Creator Edition' does that mean they can see your wishes?

A loud sound interrupts your train of thought. You and a few other bystanders look over to see Gorou looking distraught at his Tricolor Dango on the floor. A knocked-down stack of boxes on the ground and oh boy, Yae Miko standing right with him.

You can't hear what Yae is saying to Gorou as he fixes the boxes. But you can see the very uncomfortable look on Gorou's face as she circles him. You want to leave, Yae is not someone you want to get the attention of.

Steeling yourself to turn around and walk away, you try to look away. Yet you can't stop looking at just how badly Gorou wants to escape her. It bothers you to no end. You glance at the Tricolor Dango he dropped. It's the same creator edition dango you bought.

You groan and start walking over to them. This was so stupid, you were so stupid. Reckless, dumb, softhearted and-

You continue to beat yourself up as you confidently walk over to them. Yae looks at you with slight confusion as you sling an arm around Gorou's shoulder. The look on his face is hilarious.

"Hey, Gorou! Good to see you came back to Narukami Island so soon. I know you came back for your gig at the Yae Publishing House but I never even got to see you. C'mon, let's hang out while we have the chance. Oh, and you must be the Yae Miko right? A pleasure to meet you, I hope you don't mind me stealing him. Thank you, goodbye~"

You drag out the last syllable as you simultaneously drag Gorou away. Yae doesn't follow you to your relief and Gorou simply lets you pull him away. Once you're far enough away you let go of his shoulder and take a step away.

"So uh about what I said. You know what let me just be honest. I'm the creator's oracle and that's how I knew all that personal information about you. You just looked super uncomfortable around Yae that I couldn't walk away." Rubbing the back of your neck you look at Gorou sheepishly.

"Wow, that's uh a lot to process at once but let me thank you first. I was really uncomfortable. She isn't some horrible person but I'm not the best at countering her teasing attacks. Thanks for helping me retreat from that situation." Yeah, you did it at the cost of your own safety.

Even still the way his tail wags a little as he speaks and his ears twitch makes you want to reach out and pet them. Now that you can properly look at him, it was incredible to see actual animal ears on a person. You try to tamper down your excitement but it's a little hard since they move so often.

That's also when you notice the way Gorou is staring at your dango. His poor dango was left on the floor and he does have a big sweet tooth. Ah it's just one dango, you can get more dango later. You hold your dango out to him with a smile.

"I'm pretty sure Yae startled you making you drop your dango. You can have mine, it's the same limited creator edition." Gorou seems a bit bashful at his obvious desire but takes it from you gratefully.

"Thank you again. Even though you know my name I would still like to properly introduce myself. I'm General Gorou of the Watatsumi Island resistance. Even though the war is over, we still have official duties to maintain peace which is why I commute over here. What's your name?"

"My name is Y/N, as I told you earlier I'm the creator's oracle. As proof, I do have a fan given to me by the Yashiro commissioner." You take the fan out and it glistens in the sunlight. Gorou's eyes widen at the sight of it. Was it really that influential?

"I mean I already mostly believed you simply by the information you knew but to have Lord Kamisato's fan is impressive. It's an honor to meet you Y/N being the creator's oracle must be an envious position. That also explains why my body was weirdly okay with you pulling me along."

He really believed it just like that? Gorou isn't from Narukami yet he held the fan in such high regard. You mentally thank Ayato and have a feeling you'll be thanking him a lot more after this.

Gorou finishes the dango in record speed while you spot a stall selling creator merchandise. Gorou follows your eyes and stands next to you, his soft tail brushes against your skin. Man, you really want to pet him.

"Do you want to check out that stall together? I mainly came here for the festival and I already completed the work I had to do. It would be great to explore the festival with you."

You nod excitedly and tug at his wrist. "I don't remember much before I became the oracle so I want to explore everything! It wouldn't be embarrassing for the creator's oracle to buy some of their merch right?"

"Of course not! There is a lot of good things only available during the festival. And afterward, I can show you the best spot to see the ritual." Gorou lets you pull him to the stall full of creator accessories.

Really you just wanted something that would make you seem like a big fan of the creator. Nothing super stalkerish level but noticeable to those who are cultish, like the acolytes.

You look around at the items on the stall with Gorou. Nothing catches your eye until you spot a bracelet. The design is what really drew your attention.

The bracelet was gold with Intertwined Fates and Acquaint Fates as charms. It's incrediably beautiful but also worrying. How did they know this symbol when it's only in the Wish system and Paimon's Bargains?

Right when you're about to ask the vendor, Gorou looks at it and says, "Oh, I recognize those, pretty aren't they? It's written in the scriptures that when the creator is close to coming back they will use stars with fate's design to input their will into their chosen acolytes. I'm lucky to be one of them."

So that's how they know. Quite clever how they input the word fate into it hinting at the name intertwined fate. Or was it the other way around?

"Such rich history. I may be knowledgeable in some areas concerning the creator but in others, such as the history, I'm lacking. I hope by traveling around Teyvat I can grow closer to the creator."

"Don't say that Y/N! You are like a signal officer for the creator, hold that position with pride. No one expects you to be perfect right away. I don't know you very well but I can already see how hard-working you are."

Well, he wasn't wrong. Making up a whole new identity in a new world is hard work. But you decided not to buy the jewelry or anything else. Who knows what kind of act you may need to use later on? Expensive jewelry like that could hinder you more than anything.

"Thanks Gorou, I'll do my best to live up to the title of oracle. But enough about that, let's continue exploring. In fact, do you smell that? I can basically taste all the food they have here."

Gorou perks up at your words and points toward another stall.

"Do you like sweet food? I know all the best ones here. Even if you don't we can start there with the dango milk, it's a good warm-up for the other treats!"

You follow Gorou to the stall and order your own dango milk. Thick, sweet, and a weird texture? You can see why Ei likes it but you can also understand why Wanderer hates it. In fact, knowing that Ei loves this is ruining the taste.

"Are you okay Y/N? You don't seem to enjoy it. If you don't that's okay, not everyone likes it."

"I'm fine but yeah I don't really like it. Maybe because it's too filing." You chuckle weakly. You were enjoying yourself so much that the thought of Ei really ruined your mood.

Gorou glances around before gently holding your wrist and leading you to an empty bench. He makes you sit down before giving a 'wait here' gesture and leaving. You look at his retreating form in confusion and simply sit there.

You didn't do a good job hiding your emotions just then but his actions were still confusing. Wouldn't someone normally just say encouraging things and leave it there? You just met him today after all.

While you were still wrapping your head around his actions, Gorou comes back holding a box. He sits next to you and opens the box while speaking.

"I'm in no position to make you talk or vent your frustrations to me but I'm a firm believer in speaking your mind. Muzzling up all your thoughts never helps anyone. I may not have the perfect advice or any advice but I'm a good listener. But if none of those things interest you then you can eat this box of sweets with me."

He opens the box showing it full of taiyaki, sakura mochi, sweet shrimp sushi, and berry mizu manjuu. The way he holds it in his lap while offering it to you is like some teenager confessing. Especially with how his ears flatten on his head with his tail wagging slowly.

You can't help but feel thankful that out of everyone that you accidentally slipped up in front of, it was Gorou. Not only because he was a good person, but because he was the type of person to not overlook someone else's problems. At least that was the impression you got from him when he chose the books that would help Watasumi Island in that one event.

You smile shyly and grab one of the fish-shaped Taiyaki. The jam is sticky and sweet mixing with the crunchiness of the shell well.

"Well, I can't say too much about it but you're right that speaking a little will probably help me." You take a deep breath before retelling what happened with Ei. Of course, you used metaphors, alias, and even more tricks to hide the real story while getting the main conflict across.

As you speak, your emotions bleed through. You take angry bites of your treats leaving little crumbs on the corner of your mouth. Gorou is intently listening and nodding along the whole time. Absentmindedly he reaches out and brushes away the crumbs.

Both of you freeze once the action is done. You pull away with a slight blush and Gorou yanks his hand back as his tail wags rapidly.

"I'm so sorry! I was so caught up listening to you that I did that automatically." His face is starting to get redder and redder with each word. He buries his face into his hands in embarrassment.

You grin devilishly at the opportunity that luck has presented you with. You weren't Yae but a chance is a chance. You would be a fool to give it up.

"I understand and don't worry I'm not bothered by it. Just a bit surprised. But it's a bit unfair isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Gorou looks up from his hands as he feels a chill go down his spine.

"Well you got to touch me, shouldn't I get to touch you as payback?" Gorou's ears go straight up and his face all the way to his neck goes red.

"I'm talking about your ears of course! Your animal features are most similar to a Shiba Inu right? I would love to pet your ears." You can't tell if Gorou is relieved or disappointed by how he sighs.

"Y-Yeah, I guess I can allow that. Is it really that tempting?" He moves to sit by your side rather than in front of you. Now with him almost pressed against your side you pet his ears. Almost immediately he whimpers at your touch.

"Please. Please ignore the sounds, I can't exactly stop them." He basically begs you. With a small laugh, you decide to go easy on him and not comment on it. Instead, you focus on how his soft ears twitch under your hand.

As you continue quietly petting him, he seems to relax further into you. Before long the almost empty box of sweets is beside you with Gorou's head on your lap.

Was he sniffing you?… Should you take it as a compliment or as something creepy? Well it's normal for dogs to smell people and you weren't being any better petting him like this. So maybe you're both weird and it's best to ignore it.

His eyes are closed with his cheek laying on your lap. His tail wags rapidly thumping against the wood of the bench. He mumbles sounds of contentment with whimpering mixed in. It's an incredibly cute sight. To the point where perhaps everything you went through was worth it for this moment.

You sneakily pet his tail, to which his tail responds eagerly by wagging harder. Gorou is seriously lucky nobody is around to witness this. It's ironic how just like you helped him from Yae, he helped you deal with Ei. It makes you feel a certain sense of kinship with him. Even if yours was significantly more dangerous.

"Y/N, there you are!" You jump at the sudden yell of your name and Gorou immediately sits up straight. Gorou whips his head around a bit dazed trying to find the source of the noise.

"I'm sorry it took so long, where were you anyway? The ritual is about to start." Thoma jogs closer to you and Gorou- did Gorou just growl at him?

You stare at Gorou in slight disbelief, maybe he was still out of it from sleeping? Yet Thoma seemed to respond in kind by grabbing your hand and pulling you up onto your feet, away from Gorou.

"You were hanging out with Gorou? Makes sense as he tends to come over a lot for the festival and work."

Thoma's words may be friendly but the way he was staring at Gorou told a whole different story. Gorou stands up from the bench too with his ears straight up in alert. Gorou stares at him with a barely concealed growl while Thoma smiles with gritted teeth.

Holy shit, they were never this hostile before. Well, they never interacted or had any voice lines with each other but they are both just friendly people in general. Why the hell are they even fighting? You know what the cause doesn't matter anymore. You don't need this kind of attention coming towards your area.

"Alright hold it you two." You yank your hand out of Thoma's and stand between them. Giving them both cautious glances you try to clear up the situation.

"I and Gorou were just enjoying the festival since we ran into each other at a dango stall. He dozed off right when Thoma yelled my name. The growl wasn't intentional. And Gorou I'm sure Thoma was just worried due to the growl."

They both seem to want to say something but they shut up at the look you give them.

"You guys aren't angry are you? I mean we should be enjoying the festival for the creator especially since the ritual is about to begin."

"No, I'm not angry. I was just a bit startled by the sudden hostility." Thoma says trying to hold back his frustration. You raise an eyebrow at that seeing clearly what he was trying to hide.

"I agree with Thoma. It was a bit offensive that he believed I would hurt someone outside of battle but I'm guessing that he was just worried about you." The look they give each other once Gorou is finished tells their true feelings.

"Alright since neither of you are mad at the other, why don't you shake on it?" Were you just fucking with them? Yeah, but if they were going to tell stupid lies then you'll make them do stupid things. You still didn't fully understand why they were so mad at each other.

Nonetheless, they both robotically reach out and shake hands. You can easily tell how they are tightening their grip to bruise and intimidate each other. Thoma may have the height but Gorou is a general for a reason. They let go at a draw.

This was going to be fun. Smiling you link arms with them and start walking to the main area of the city.

"With that out of the way, we should head to the ritual. We need to get good spots to watch it after all. I still don't even know what the ritual is."

The atmosphere relaxes for a minute as both men admire the sight of you. Your strength and willpower to keep plowing forward with both of them in tow despite their spat. They give each other a dirty look behind your back before walking in step with you.

"We should go to the left side Y/N, you did say we could hang out once I was done helping Mr. Shimura."

"The right side is better. I did promise to show you all the best spots."

And here they go again. By the time you get to the main area where a crowd was slowly forming, you were ready to sit in the first spot and ignore them both.

Like an angel from heaven Ayaka strolls to your group with her practiced perfect smile.

"Y/N, are you enjoying the festivities? The ritual is about to start and I'll need to bring Thoma with me to help out behind the scenes."

You release Gorou and Thoma as Ayaka gets closer to you. You've never been so happy to see her before. Still aware of the people watching you only hover near her.

"It's been a lot of fun, everything looks beautiful. I'm going to get a good spot for the ritual thanks to Thoma and Gorou. But of course, I understand that you need to take Thoma. I'm excited to see what you and Lord Kamisato have prepared."

"I'm just as excited to see your reaction Y/N." Thoma walks over to Ayaka as cheerful as ever but you can clearly see the way his shoulder sag. You wave goodbye to them both and Gorou has a smug smile. The minute he sees you looking, his smile softens to something kinder.

"Alright Gorou, lead the way." You still didn't fully understand what's making them so hostile but honestly, it didn't really matter. They weren't hostile to you and you were leaving today anyway.

"It's just up these stairs, and-" Gorou's words are drowned out by an overwhelming sense of something watching you. More like someone you realize as the sight of pink fox ears flickers in the corner of your vision. Seems like Yae has decided to watch you or Gorou, maybe even both.

You sit down with Gorou and pay extra attention to manage your expressions. The last thing you want to do is slip up again. A huge crowd formed near the stage, it looked suffocating to be there. Thankfully the spot Gorou brought you to was still close but high enough that you weren't being trampled.

On the stage is a statue of yourself. The statue is holding the Inazuma symbol in its hands as if displaying it. This statue is made of stone instead of wood like the one in your temple. The clothing and hair were made of Obsidian while you were made of Jadeite. The most notable detail was how gold lines seem to follow your veins in the statue.

Was that some sort of reference to the story of the creator bleeding gold? From what you remember reading in the room in the Kamisato estate, the scriptures said "The creator's blood is like flowing gold. Sacred and holy. Never should it have to be shed, and if so, may the offender pay for bleaching their golden blood."

You sure as hell bleed red so it's most likely that it's metaphorical rather than literal. But how many people in Teyvat see it that way? You had a feeling everyone took that chapter literally instead.

Ayaka goes up on stage holding a box while other servants that you recognize from the estate follow her holding more boxes. She gives her box to someone else to hold before going to all the other boxes and taking out the contents.

Gold, jewels, jewelry, fabric, and bottles of something presumably fancy are laid at the feet of your statue. Two servants place incense at either side of you before Ayaka lights them. The smell is refreshing and vaguely reminds you of cinnamon.

Your body seems to relax automatically but you keep it still since Yae may still be looking. Just as you're about to comment on the smell, Gorou speaks up.

"I've always wondered what it smells like." What? Gorou who has a great sense of smell can't smell it? You look around to see nobody else reacting to the smell.

Quietly you ask, "What do you mean by that? I thought we were just too far away to smell it."

"The incense used for rituals is special. It's specifically made with elemental power. Its concentration to make the sticks is so fine-tuned that only the creator and archons can smell the true scent. Everyone else smells nothing or a indescribable smell."

Well bullet dodged, you almost got caught there. By claiming to smell something, you would have drawn way too much attention for something that couldn't prove you well enough. You nod quietly and look back to the ritual.

Ayaka had now opened the box she was carrying showing two elemental decorations. It made sense that it's the highest prized offering since the Kamisato Clan deals with elemental energy the most.

She places a beautiful Sakura made of ice near one incense and a crystalline Camelia near the other. They were both truly beautiful, you would have loved to take them with you.

Ayato strolls to the front from who knows where and kneels at the statue. Never did you think that you would see Ayato kneel and clasp his hands in prayer at a statue of yourself. Yet everyone takes his lead and kneels down. The moment you see Gorou kneel is when you follow along.

Ayato's voice rings out over the dead-silent area.

"We offer these humble gifts to the creator. Our one and only maker that sacrificed themself for their creations. From every pebble to all the blood that exists in Teyvat. They all belong to you. We will continue to worship and offer to you as long as we still have the oxygen to do so. Let your title be our dying last words as you take us from this world into your loving eternity."

Damn, if you forgot that basically all of Teyvat was a cult, you sure as hell remember now. Just yesterday you were joking and play fighting with Ayato and now he was praying to you to basically make sure that he dies thinking of you. At least you knew that your worries about him killing you weren't unfounded.

You hold back the sigh of relief when Ayato says 'Amen' and everyone stands back up. Thoma opens the gate to your statue as the rest of Kamisato Clan leave the small space. People form a line to the statue holding offerings and boxes.

Old, young, men, women, and other species besides human all go up to your statue with gifts. They place them down and mutter a short word of thanks before moving for someone else. You look over at Gorou who's watching everyone with you.

"I didn't know what this ritual was so I have nothing to offer this time. Do you have anything to offer?" Gorou smiles mysteriously at your question.

"Yes, but I already gave them my offering. Really, I and her excellency offered on behalf of Watatsumi Island but I still count it since I was the one who caught him. But you won't see him till the next part of the ritual."

Oh, was sacrificing the next part? It wouldn't be pleasant to see animals be sacrificed in your name but you could deal with that. You wonder what kind of animal Gorou caught.

"Well just let me know which one you caught." He nods and rests his head on your shoulder as the line finishes. You can still feel someone staring at you. It seems Yae still hasn't given up.

With everyone out of the area around your statue, the gate is closed and Thoma walks onto the stage pulling 3 people along. They're in chains and old ragged clothes. Cuts, bruises, and dried blood cover parts of their bodies. You hold your breath at the sight of them lined up.

Ayato walks to the front of the stage and Thoma forces all 3 people onto their knees.

"People of Inazuma, this week will be slightly different from the Yashiro's usual sacrifice. Instead of one, we have three prisoners with the highest amount and the worst crimes committed."

Ayato unsheathes his Amenoma Kageuchi, the sword you had maxed out for him. He points it at the first prisoner.

"This man was a samurai that used his status to kidnap, rape, and kill multiple children. For the lives and innocence of those children he will face capital punishment. May the creator carry out their will through his punishment."

Oh my god. Yes that man is horrible and if his punishment is execution then let it go through but in your name? No, no, you don't want that man's life on your consciousness. Ayato points at the second prisoner.

"This woman was caught by the Grand Narukami Shrine. Not only was she colluding with a foreign nation to start a war but she was also found poisoning the water supply in the Shrine. That resulted in many shrine maidens becoming permanently ill and even dying. It also damaged the Sacred Sakura, she will face capital punishment. May the creator carry out their will through her punishment."

Was he going to say that for all of them? How many people have been sacrificed in your name? You barely breathe in fear of choking and calling attention to yourself. Right before Ayato points at the third prisoner, Gorou points at them first.

"That man is the one I caught."

Such a simple sentence yet it made you so nauseous. Were you dumb or just in denial for wanting to believe earlier that he was talking about an animal?

"This man was caught on Watatsumi Island. He had been found planting multiple explosives near the crop and farms on their island. This would not only kill a good portion of their population but also ensure that they would starve in the upcoming winter. For the attempted murder of so many lives he will be charged with capital punishment. May the creator carry out their will through his punishment."

The prisoners keep quiet with their heads down. Were they feeling guilty, resigned or apathetic? Doesn't matter, for what they did they deserve capital punishment but not under your name. They were still living beings that should rot rather than be killed for a god that didn't even ask for it.

"After hearing the crimes of these individuals. What punishment will we carry out in the creator's and victims names?" Ayato's voice booms and the public responds in kind.

At first it was a jumble of yells for certain executions. Seeing all these people including children yelling out for punishment in your name left bile in your mouth. You weren't about to say that all life was precious and that killing them in general was wrong but you were selfish.

The main reason you were so against it was due to your own conscious. Because this whole scene is confirming something you never wanted to believe. Something you struggled to accept or deny.

The masses seemed to reach an agreement and Ayato announced to everyone.

"The samurai will be forced to commit seppuku, the shrine maiden will be beheaded and the arsonist will be burned at the stake."

The stage is a blur of movement as the crowd cheered. The roaring applause and yells of excitement made you dizzy. You watch in a daze yet hyperaware of everything.

It starts with the child abuser, Ayato forces the man's hands around what looks like the man's sword. Ayato forces him to stab himself in the stomach. Its dragged from right to left. The blood sticks to the sword as Ayato pulls it out, the sight is disgustingly familiar. The samuri has his hands handcuffed behind him as he is left to bleed out to death in front of everyone. You aren't quite sure but by the way his mouth is moving, he seems to be screaming in pain.

The guillotine must have been set up while you were watching the samurai. Ayaka forces the bound woman to her knees and closes the top trapping her head. The shrine maiden is muttering judging by her mouth movement. Ayaka raises her sword and at that moment, the shrine maiden yells above the noise.

"Oh, beloved creator! Take me into your sweet embrace and show them all the truth of this world! Just as I have done everything for you, please-"

Her words are cut off as her head rolls. Ayaka stands there with a bloody blade and a frosty glare. The woman's head is stuck in a pleading expression and tears drying on her face. Your hands slowly grow paler with every second. The sound of desperate pleading brings your attention to the arsonist.

The man is already tied to the stake with wood at the bottom of it. Thoma's vision lights up but instead of hitting the man with his fire, he simply lights the wood on fire. The fire licks the thrashing man's feet and grows up the stake.

You can't stop staring at the two men slowly dying. In seppuku someone is supposed to cut the head off but no one will do it. And usually with burning executions they add more wood and fire to hurry up the process yet no one is adding anything. These two men are rightfully suffering for their crimes but you can't help but feel isolated as the crowd cheers for the men being publicly tortured.

In your name, in your name. Their deaths are on your hands. Those lives were taken due to you. You already had someone else's life on your hands, how could you handle any more?

A soft touch on your shoulder makes you look toward the source. When did he even move his head off your shoulder? Gorou is looking at you with worry evident on his face.

"Are you okay Y/N?"

More than anything you want to say no. You want to hide away and forget the deaths you just witnessed. More than anything you want to cry and not worry about the consequences. But things like that are too good for you.

You are sure of it now. Your identity must be hidden forever. The minute anyone finds out your true identity is when you'll suffer a worse death than those prisoners. Your brain and body seem to finally catch up with reality. You give a sad smile to Gorou.

"This is something completely new to me. Truthfully I'm just confused about how to feel about all this. But the creator's feelings are echoing clearly. They are thankful and very happy to see how devoted Inazuma and its residents are but... At the same time, they can't help but feel sad too. Innocent people suffered and even though those criminals are getting their due punishment, they still feel love for them. Because all of Teyvat and its beings are their beloved creations."

Gorou nods his head in understanding before asking.

"But what about you? This must be pretty intense for you as it's your first time."

Gorou really was kind, he's still worried about you. It's too risky to ever open up like you did before but you still need to maintain a close relationship with him.

"You're right, I think I need to step away for a little while. The creator's feelings mixed in with mine are creating a mess." Gorou nods in understanding before holding your hand and leading you away. Your skin pricks at the feeling of being watched so intensely.

Your mind is running a mile a minute to categorize everything you've learned. To think of a plan on what you'll do when you get to Liyue. Yet every time you go into the deep crevices of your mind with thoughts like 'Should I just live in the wilderness forever?' It's Gorou's hand that grounds you back to reality.

Reliable as ever you think to yourself as he sets you down on a bench near the Inazuma City entrance. It's funny how you are being taken care of by him twice in your first meeting. It seems even knowing how he gave a horrible man as a public sacrifice isn't enough to dissolve your love for him.

In fact your love for Ayato, Ayaka, and Thoma as people still existed in your heart. For years you had Genshin and it's people as your only source of safety and comfort. Despite your fear and desire to be away from Ei, you still wished that she would have some form of happiness too.

"Do you want to talk to me about it? If not then I can just sit with you until you're feeling better."

"It's fine Gorou, you should just go ahead and enjoy the rest of the ritual. That man you caught almost did irreplaceable damage to Watatsumi after all."

"You may be right but he's already suffering his due punishment. I'd rather help out my comrade than spit on the defeated enemy."

Gorou's words though encouraging will only lead to more trouble. Not only would you start becoming dependent on Gorou if you relayed your troubles in another metaphorical tale. But Yae's eyes are still watching you and it's quiet enough that her ears won't miss a sound.

Hmm, this plan might be risky but risk is necessary to trick Yae. You chew on your bottom lip while looking away from Gorou.

"I'm just a little sick. All the sugar and excitement wasn't the best combination for my stomach. Just let me have a breather and I'll be good to go. Go on ahead without me, I'll be fine."

Gorou is about to retort but a yell of "General Gorou!" cuts him off. A Watatsumi soldier stands closer to the main area waving their hands.

Gorou sighs and stands up with his tail drooping. He looks apologetically at you while you only smile nervously back.

"Don't worry about me Gorou. Just go ahead, I'll catch up later."

He nods and leaves. Once you're sure he's out of sight you slump against bench in relief. A matching sigh of relief leaves your lips as you tilt your head back and close your eyes.

"Well, aren't you a sneaky one?"

You hide your smile by rapidly sitting up straight almost hitting Yae who was behind you. Her teasing chuckle as you move to stand up and spin around to face her, lets you know that it was successful.

"No need to stand up little one. You're quite skittish for someone that managed to pull that cute doggy general away from me."

You duck your head and look away with a nervous chuckle.

"It's just that I was startled by you. I really mean no offense Ms. Yae." You finish speaking and can't stop your teeth from biting your inner cheek.

Yae smiles at your little tell as she places her hand over her mouth mockingly.

"Startled? By me? I believe you aren't being entirely truthful. But it's fine by me if you want to keep up your little lie. It's just that..."

Your eyebrows pinch in worry as she trails off. She stays silent as you begin fiddling with your hands.

"You'll have to be my precious 'friend' seeing as you stole Gorou from me earlier. At least for a little while."

You light up at her words and smile. Relief is clear in your face as you hold your hands together in front of you.

"Isn't that more of a good thing? I mean everyone says that you are very popular. I guess all the talk about kitsune biting was false!"

You immediately slap a hand over your mouth as Yae laughs at your words.

"Do we now? You must have heard such things from one of my editors."

Your cheeks take a light pink hue as she steps closer and peers down at you. Her gaze is piercing and you turn your head away slightly.

"I-I'm so sorry! Please don't eat me!" You speak with a pleading tone and your eyes screwed shut.

A little zap from her electro-fox hits your forehead making you look at her in confusion.

"I'm not going to eat you little one. My word, do I really have that fearsome of a reputation? That does make me wonder why a little lamb like you is wearing a gold kitsune mask if you are so scared of being eaten."

Time to see if you've built up enough credit for your trick to work. Your eyes wander around the area refusing to look her in the eyes. Your lips start to turn a little red from how harshly you're biting it.

"It was just pretty."

"Even though it's broken?"

"...it was cheaper that way." Your eyes are a little glossy from embarrassment. Your lips tremble as you stare sadly at the ground.

There was an awkward silence after you spoke. On the outside Yae isn't affected by your words but you caught the way her ear flickered for a moment. She's feeling a bit guilty.

Yae was arrogant and for good reason too. But it was also this arrogance that helped you get to the point where she won't ask about the mask anymore.

She can't help but feel the need to tease someone easily embarrassed like Gorou. By mimicking that flustered state with a dash of enthusiasm due to your first appearance being so energetic. You made yourself a perfect target for her to underestimate.

This paved the way for her to feel superior to you. That's why such an easily faked tell like biting your lip or really any area of your mouth worked so well. Made sense since most highly skilled people find the beginner tasks the hardest after they become masters. Something about being too used to harder things makes them either look too deep into simple things or overlook it completely.

You only could pull this act and not reveal your oracle due to Yae not feeling any bond. Ayaka didn't feel any bond or familiarity because you never pulled her. You didn't pull for Yae either and it seemed your theory is correct. Since she doesn't sense your divinity, she has no real interest in you besides your mask.

You can only hope that you managed to swindle her enough for her to lose interest in you completely. She wasn't heartless but she also had no problem leaving people to suffer unless it concerns someone she cares about.

The smell of burning flesh reaches the area and your act falters. You cough and wipe away a small tear. You peek at the fire that completely enveloped the arsonist and the black smoke rising. Your face grimaced at the sight of it. Was that samurai still bleeding to death?

Even from far away you can hear the people cheering as the stake falls down. You can imagine the way the burnt corpse crunches as it hits the ground. Was that shrine maiden head and body still there as it grows cold and stiff?

Yae tilts your head to look at her using her wand stick. The ribbons tickle your skin as you look up at her making sure to keep your eyes reminiscent of a doe.

"If you think your little act was enough to fool me then you're wrong." Shit, did she see through you at any point? No, it can't be. The only thing you let slip was your distaste.

"Stepping away from the ritual to avoid watching any more of the bloodshed is quite selfish. It's our job as the creator's subjects to dirty ourselves with blood in order to keep our creator pure." You recognize this from the book you translated to read. It spoke about the people of Inazuma only offering blades never used, therefore 'clean' to the archon. It seems it applies even more to you as the creator.

"Inazuma is filled with bloodshed, I suggest you learn to live with it. The Shogun fought numerous wars for this nation and even more for the creator."

You keep your mouth shut. As much as you would like to retort and speak against it. You really can't afford to bring any more attention to yourself. Your safety is on the line.

You keep a sad and guilty look on your face as you listen to her.

"Are you from Inazuma? It's honestly quite disappointing if you are, a resident not knowing Inazuma's history with the creator is a crying shame."

Shame bubbles up within you for not being able to speak your true thoughts but you use it to your advantage instead.

"I'm sorry... I just don't know how to read. I'm one of the residents forced out of Yashiori Island due to the war and tatarigami. I'm really sorry."

Another silence ensures and you don't even have to look at her to see the pitying look. It seems you were right about her feeling bad for those affected by the war. It was only a guess due to the counseling services she holds for samurai returning from war but it paid off.

"Don't look so pitiful like that, you're making me look like the bad guy. Nevertheless, ignorance is not an excuse to do wrong. I expect to see you stay for the whole ritual next time."

Yae only gives you a glance before leaving. You keep your head down as her footsteps slowly get quieter. You wait an extra second before slumping onto the bench and groaning.

This was exhausting, you couldn't wait to be on the boat to Liyue already. As you sat there trying to ignore the loud cheers from the main area thoughts of what Yae said kept trickling in.

It's the people's job to be dirty with blood for the creator? Bullshit. Even if some people were overzealous and wanted to sacrifice evil people, they shouldn't force other regular believers into it!

Just how many people were peer pressured into joining the cult's violent nature? If this whole creator religion started so long ago then what if those who refused to participate were turned into sacrifices? That would have forced people to join in fear of being killed.

After centuries or even millenniums of this pattern, this obsession and violence became normal and even expected behavior. As much as you enjoyed almost everyone's company, you could not afford to stay even a day longer. They may start expecting you to join in on stuff like this. You are no stranger to death and violence but Teyvat was supposed to be your chance to change. Not for you to find a new reason to inflict harm, especially for a religion about yourself.

Through the smoke and noise of everyone partying, you can smell the incense Ayaka lit earlier. Just a few minutes to relax you tell yourself. Bringing your knees to your chest to sit in a fetal position on the bench, you hide your head. You watch two cats play fight nearby as you think.

You just need a minute to decompress.

The beginning with Gorou wasn't the best but I think I got it to improve as the chapter went on. The real struggle was Yae. Personally I'm not that fond of her and writing her was hard. I hope all you Yae lovers weren't too offended, I really did do my research to keep her in character. This was actually half of a chapter but I really wanted to publish something. 10K words here instead of 15K like the other one is progress in my book. I'm trying to find a happy middle of 'long enough that it doesn't drop off' and 'not long enough that editing makes me cry'. Besides I wanna spread out the trauma I'm giving reader. Gotta save some for next chapter. All the comments and hearts are very appreciated!

Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention If you are in italics that means I couldn't tag you! Usually you'll need to check your settings to fix that.

[externalmemorycomic]

Image description: A black and white illustration, designed to look like a book cover. On a decorative ribbon, the title at the top reads “External Memory”. A scroll work border of leaves and flowers divides the illustration into three rounded panels. The largest panel is in the center and shows a caravan surrounded by greenery, puddles and potted plants. The two smaller panels beneath it show a cartoon cat and mouse respectively, facing each other. At the bottom is another decorative ribbon with the text “a diary comic by My Murphy”. After the cover follows an 8 page comic. The style is cartoonish and the colours are soft pastels. Page one: An orange cat waves and says “Hello! I’m My.” The cat holds up a white mouse and says “This is Mouse, my girlfriend.” Caption: My name is actually My, but Mouse is a nickname for comic and privacy purposes. Caption: When I started this project, me and Mouse lived on a little island off the Swedish coast. The panel shows a stylised, tiny island with a lighthouse, spruce and birch trees, leaning houses and a little dock with a row boat tied to it. The cat and mouse are standing on the cliffs and a swan floats on the water in the foreground. Page two: Caption: Now we’ve moved to Ireland where we live in a caravan in the middle of nowhere. A small caravan, surrounded by greenery, overgrown trees, rocks, puddles and potted plants. The caravan has two windows and the cat and the mouse are looking out of one window each. Caption: We lived on the island to be close to my family. A ribbon with writing on it separates and labels four characters: “mom”, an ermine, “dad”, a wolverine, “brother”, a marmot and “step mom”, a squirrel. The ribbon has been torn in between “mom” and “dad”. Caption: and we moved to Ireland to be close to Mouse’s family. Three characters are shown, each with their own ribbon label. “mother-in-law”, a deer, “sister-in-law”, a jack russell terrier and “brother-in-law”, a hedgehog. Page three: Caption: Me and the mouse are currently in our thirties. The cat lounges on an antique fainting couch and the mouse sleeps on a cushion on the floor. On the floor is an open bag of “let’s” crisps and a laptop. Caption: We’re both pretty decrepit in various ways, so for this comic I draw couches and beds as often as I draw people. Caption: Disability isn’t especially interesting to me, but if a fish made an autobiographical comic… A fish under water paints a four panel comic with a brush held in its mouth. The panels the fish has painted show bubbles, waves and splashing water. Caption: …it’d probably be partly about water, whether the fish cared about water or not. Page four: Caption: My memory has always been pretty crappy. If a friend asks me: “do you remember when...” The question is shown asked by a red robin Caption: I usually have to answer: “no, I don’t.” The panel shows the cat giving this answer while looking away and blushing. Caption: There are many things in my life I’d like to remember. Mom the ermine watches as the cat opens a Christmas gift in front of a Christmas tree. The cat is much smaller than usual, its tail is bushy with excitement and it holds up a big book, “Mort”, with a skull on the cover. Caption: This comic is my EXTERNAL MEMORY so I can capture some of those moments… The cat admires a butterfly hovering above its outstretched paw Caption: …great or small. Page five: Caption: I try to make one strip per day, give or take. Pages with dates written on them blow off of a daily wall calendar by a strong breeze. As they turn over, comic pages are revealed to be drawn on the back. One comic shows the mouse with long fangs, biting the face of the cat and then hissing behind a bat wing. One comic is a pastiche of Tim Buckley’s “Loss” comic and one features a portrait of Frasier Crane and the Seattle skyline. Caption: and on the days when nothing interesting happens A close up shows the cat’s paw drawing a comic panel. In this panel a smaller, rounder version of the cat runs happily in the sunshine carrying a backpack. Caption: I reach back and draw something from my past. Caption: If you read this comic and wonder: A coyote looks at the comic on its phone, strokes its chin suspiciously and asks “did that really happen?” Caption: the answer is always yes. Caption: If you read this comic and wonder: A monkey reads the comic in zine form and think “did they really say that?” Caption: the answer is usually yes. Page six: Caption: When a specific phrase is the point of the strip, it’s recorded verbatim. The mouse says “you’re marching to the beat of the potato drum.” Caption: is a direct quote. Caption: When the point is something else, I sometimes take small liberties to make the memory fit well inside four panels. The cat sits at its drawing table, holding a pair of scissors in one hand and a paper with two comic panels in the other. Caption: Usually that means I make myself or the mouse play the part of the straight man because it will improve a joke. The cat and the mouse, dressed as clowns, stand in a circus tent. The cat pulls the clown nose from the mouse’s face and holds up a pie, ready to strike. Caption: In reality, neither of us is much of a straight man, but all art demands some sacrifices. Caption: In every way that matters, this comic always tells the truth. The cat looks up at a large, glowing, winged sphinx statue version of itself. The statue and framing is a reference to the all knowing Southern Oracle from the film adaptation of “The Neverending Story”. Caption: I am doing this to aid my memory after all, so it wouldn’t be very helpful to make my life seem more funny, interesting or relatable than it really is. The cat draws a comic while watching paint dry on the wall. Caption: That would be a pretty cruel joke to play on my future, more confused self. The cat scratches its head at a drawing of themselves as the winner of a beauty contest, wearing a sash and crown, waving to the crowd and holding flowers. Caption: She’ll probably have enough to contend with… The cat looks suspiciously at its own reflection in the mirror, not recognising it. The drawing is a pastiche of a panel from the webcomic “Gunshow” by KC Green. Caption: Maybe some of my comics will be funny or interesting or relatable to you anyway. That would make me very happy. The cat smiles and presses its paws to its face in joy, seeing that a bear and a horse are reading the comic together and laughing. Cartoon hearts float over the cat. Caption: Some of the comics probably won’t do much for anybody but me, but that’s okay too. The cat presses a page of the comic to its chest, looking contented and protective. In the last panel, the cat and the mouse are floating on air with a blue sky and white clouds behind them. The cat is smiling and twirling around, holding a paint brush out like a wand. From the brush flows paint that swirls around the two figures and making shapes of green leaves and orange and yellow flowers. On two looping blue ribbons appear the last captions: This is a record of my silly little life. Good or bad, I’m glad I get to share it. End ID.

Here’s a little introduction to External Memory! It was fun to make a proper neat and full colour comic - it’s been a while ^^

(If you like this project, please reblog this post! You can also subscribe to my patreon where I post one comic every day ^^)

[cameronspecial]

I Will Love It, Rafe

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Rafe wants to make their house a home for Y/N.

Masterlist

Being married to Rafe is the most amazing stage of Y/N’s life. She didn’t think he could’ve gotten more loving and attentive, but he did. When they moved into their house in the Outer Banks, he did the whole carrying her across the threshold thing and his husbandly duties didn’t stop there. He helped in every possible way to bring their house together and create their home. He gave his input on the paint colour, couch swatches, what style of furniture he wanted and anything else she would ask him. Even going as far as buying a few decorations he sees in the store and thinks she would like. Every time he would meet her with the same adorable nervousness of her not liking it, which she would always reassure him she does like it. This house is really starting to feel like theirs. 

Rafe knows Y/N has been dreaming of a built-in bookshelf in the room that is going to be their office and Rafe is dying to make that happen for her. Sarah took Y/N out for the day under the pretense of showing his wife the island that is now her home. This allows him to work on his project for her. He enlisted the help of Sarah’s pogue friends because he knew he wasn’t the most masterful with his building. He isn’t their biggest fan, but he can put their differences aside for the sake of Y/N. 

“We just have to nail the last top face frame rail and then we are ready to paint,” Rafe confirms with the others. Pope nods, “Yeah. Although, she won’t be able to put anything on it until after twenty-four hours, so I don’t know if you want to wait to show her.” “I think I’m too anxious to wait. I need to know what she thinks right away. What if she doesn’t like it?” Rafe frets, not seeing that he is holding the wood up crooked. JJ hits the back of his head, “Snap out of it. You aren’t holding it straight.” Rafe fixes his hold on the wood so that JJ can nail it into place. John B is the one to reassure his, hopefully, far-future brother-in-law. “Don’t worry, Dude. You said that she’s been showing you pictures of these bookshelves, so you know what she wants. Plus, she’ll just be touched by the gesture even if it isn’t exactly what she wants,” John B promises, slapping the husband’s back. “Thanks,” Rafe whispers. 

———

The big reveal is quickly approaching and Rafe feels the sweat on his palms. He wipes it off on the towel in his hand. The front door opens and he swears as he realizes he won’t have enough time to get cleaned up. He runs to greet the girls and is met by a questioning look from his wife. She sets the bags in her hand down, “What’s with the paint?” “Uhh, I’ve been working on a project for you, but I’m not sure I want you to see it,” he confesses, walking over to pick up the bags and kiss her. She returns the kiss, “Why don’t you want me to see it?” “Because I don’t think you will like it. So I’m going to have to take it down and pay a professional to make a better one,” he explains. He pulls out his phone to call the pogues back to take down what they had built not even twenty minutes ago. 

Y/N takes his phone out of his hand and makes him look at her. “You don’t have to do that. Just show me what you did. I’m sure I will love it, Rafe,” she comforts him, placing her hand in his. He lets out a breath and takes her upstairs to their office. He opens the door to reveal the labour of his day. Her eyes set on the bookshelves and she lets out a squeal. Her arms wrap around his neck. She kisses him on the cheek, “Rafe, I love it. This is incredible. Thank you so much. You are really making this place our home.” He gives her a kiss of his own with a massive grin. “You’re welcome, Angel. I would do anything to make you feel comfortable. I want you to love this space as much as I love you.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[castorfell]

Girlymatsu-san!!

Aaa I had sm fun drawing this and couldn't wait to post it!! I love girls

Some design notes for nerds under the read more!

Osoko

Her overall shape is mostly inspired by her hair shape, so lots of curves and circles

She was the easiet design for me to recreate in my style and I love her for that

I wanted to give each Girlymatsu a lil detail that nods back to the original Matsus (since Karako and Ichiko have pretty obvious ones) so I figured a lil red pin badge would suit Osoko's business suit, plus it brings a lil more red into her overall design

Looking at it now, I feel like i should have made her heels red

Karako

Mostly rectangular with pointy edges, she's a sporty gal so I wanted her to look like she had a bit more muscle on her (at least compared to the others)

Probably the 2nd hardest design to recreate in my style! I wanted her to look more top heavy; wider shoulders and bigger bust. Ended up looking at Danny Phantom, Clone High and Total Drama Island for references

I changed her jeans and heels to sweatpants and sneakers. I just felt like they didn't suit the overall sillhoutte

She's the second tallest of the group

Choroko

Her overall shape is a mix of straight lines and circles

I didn't really know how to shove a Matsu into her design. I thought about maybe stickers on her luggage bag or a pine on her fan but those aren't really part of Her, yknow? In the end I just decided that the lil parts in her hair formed the letter M and left it at that

Ichiko

Fell in love with an emo girl

Obviously her long hair takes up most of her sillhoutte. Very Stocking Anarchy reminiscent

Her hair covers one eye now, it just felt appropriate. Plus iirc in the anime she has a lil quirk of pulling her hair behind her ear

She is a classy lady so I gave her pearl accessories

Joan of Arc lookin forehead

Jysuhiko

Big hair was the focus

I had the most fun recreating her in my style! She's just so fun

Her bracelets and earring are Matsu coloured!!

You can't really tell here but I picture her being the tallest of the group

Todoko

Imma be real, I don't like Todomatsu and most things related to him, so I kinda halfassed Todoko's design

The hardest one for me to recreate by virtue of me not wantinf to spend too long on her

She is mostly circles, because circles are cute and that's like her whole thing I guess

Her skirt has 6 ruffles, that was the only Matsu motif I could give her

Sorry Todo enjoyers