#ON HER HEAD WHEN HER PAWS ARE FULL AND WITH HER CHIN BETWEEN ITS EARS WHEN THEY'RE NOT

[ozarkthedog]

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇

summary: joel drags you onto his lap and consumes you.

warnings: 18+ mdni. joel miller x afab!reader. no physical descriptions of reader. slight dom!joel. cock riding. calling a pussy she/her. no beta. w.c: 835

author’s note: I saw a different gif of Joel sitting on the ground with his thick body and long legs, had a minor black out and this was the result. hope you enjoy!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Joel Miller leaning back against the headboard of your bed with his legs spread, completely nude, is a fucking sight.

Somehow, he's still so massive and intimidating in this prone position. He reminds you of a warrior or Viking God who's just come home from slaying in battle. 

Coarse hair covers his broad chest, blanketing his sturdy abdomen, and trails south below his belly button, creating a dark, densely woven path down to his pelvis. His large cock hangs heavy between his burly, spread thighs; his sac is so full and warm that it reaches the sheets. The dusty pink head weeps, dripping pre cum down the girthy shaft as it bobs and flexes at the sight of you on your knees naked before him. 

"C'mere." he husks, fisting his length with a meaty paw while you timidly crawl on hands and knees over to him.   

Your gaze travels up his belly and chest, meeting an untamed, vivid stare as his chocolate eyes bore into you. He makes you feel so small and insignificant, but you know that's a lie when he cups a worn hand along your cheek. He treats you like a goddess; like you formed the moon and stars. He revolves around you. 

"My sweet, sweet girl." he tugs you into his lap, your sensitive cunt brushing against his belly, leaving a trail of shiny arousal in its wake. "Already so wet. Bet I'll slide right in." He purrs.

His words burn wildly through you. All consuming and raging, igniting a searing heat deep in your belly. He taps his crown against your folds, a sharp, sticky 'thwap' bouncing off the walls before he lines his cock up with your tight, fluttering hole tempting a soft whimper to bubble up your throat.

"S'ok, I got you." he consoles you with a deep, soothing voice that slithers into your wary heart.

Joel grips one sturdy hand on your hip and helps you sit on his cock while the other cradles your jaw, fixing his fingers around the back of your neck. "Easy now, slow," he commands with a soft rumble.  

He traces the outline of your ear with his thumb, distracting you from the pressure as your velvet channel molds around him. He sighs, a long, winding breath through his nose, "All the way. Take e'ery inch."

His bearded jaw clenches when he bottoms out and hears your pitiful whines. Your body would loll like a ragdoll if not for his grip as a blissful fervor runs rampant up your spine and his weeping tip presses against your cervix.

Your lips pull into a tiny 'o', brows pinching tight when Joel shifts, withdrawing his cock before slowly, ever so slowly, spearing it back in and splitting you open. He smirks at your glassy eyes, all wide and wild like an animal caught in a trap.

"Thatta girl." he rumbles, thrusting his hips and breaching your cunt again. He tenderly rubs his thumb along your cheek. His cock flexes at the sight of you gradually losing your mind. "so full of cock, ya can't think straight, huh?"

He drives his cock deeper, meaty thighs bracing the backs of your own on every brutal thrust. Slick trickles down his length as he relentlessly sheathes himself in your heat like a sword spearing into its victims.

Your fingers dig into his brawny shoulders, pressing into the dense cords of muscle as they shift with every devastating shove, demonstrating his strength.

"Shh, I'll take care, a'ya." the thumb that framed your ear is now threateningly hooked under your jaw. A blunt nail acutely bites into the underside of your chin. "Always do, don't I?"

When you meet his foreboding stare, a high-pitched cry rattles through your body straight down to your cunt, making your walls clench like a vice around his length.

A chuckle rumbles from the center of his chest. "S'what I thought."

The hand around your hips tightens as his pace quickens. The pads of his fingers dig sweetly into your skin. He slithers his other hand around the back of your neck securing you in a severe grip; the pads of his fingers dig sweetly into your skin, keeping you still and compliant as the rapturous arousal blazing in your core burns brighter and brighter.

You feel him swell, pushing against your insides and forming a new pathway that'll only and always be his.

"Tha's it. Stay with me." he tips your forehead against his own and penetrates your soul with a voracious stare. "Can feel 'er, squrimin'. This sweet pussy gonna come?" 

His torso and balls tighten as you writhe in his hold and hit your peak with an agonizing, blissful cry. "Shit- 'ere ya go." he praises, growling darkly through clenched teeth, watching in awe as you convulse from his unyielding and gluttonous touch. 

He wants you close. So close he can breathe in every needy, angelic breath he punches from of your lungs as he fucks you to the edge over and over again. He wants to watch you fall apart in his arms so he can put your back together. Breath by breath. Whimper by whimper. Orgasm by orgasm.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

->reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated!<-

follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: Protection/Protective (Discord Drabble)

"Steve, I can – "

" – No, I got it!"

"Just let me – "

"No, I – Oh fuck!"

Steve lunges for the bedside drawer, hoping his uncoordinated, flailing gesture will stop the thing from falling to the floor, but it's too late. The drawer tips straight out of its rungs, the hardwood knocking Steve in the hand before it falls and spills the entire contents to the ground.

Spare keys, three-too-many cheery-flavoured chapsticks, baseball cards, a porno mag he had purchased back in Spring and finally, the goddamn condoms that are the cause of all the mess.

He whines and rests his head on Eddie's panting chest and his partner groans back and throws a lazy arm across his face.

This has all been a total disaster – the worst of all of Steve's sexual escapades. Even worse than the time Candy Simmons kicked him in the head and nearly knocked him unconscious when he was in the middle of going down on her on Tommy H's bed.

It didn't help that he and Eddie were already so nervous. So they had already wasted the afternoon fumbling around with neither of them all that sure about what the hell they were doing in the first place – plus they had his own constant back twinges and Eddie's hand-turned-full-arm cramp to contend with.

But after working through and accommodating all that, they were finally ready. Or so they thought before Steve found himself unable to get his big, stupid, sweaty paws on his box of condoms.

"Wait," he says, stretching an arm out to palm around on the floor, "I think I got it."

Steve sticks out his tongue for good measure, deep in concentration as his fingers skim over the spilled items. His eyes go wide and he grins down at Eddie as his hand hits the already-opened box.

"Found 'em," he beams, bolting upright as he holds up a condom wrapper in victory.

Eddie giggles and scrambles to sit up, all eager and giddy again as Steve moves to tear the thing open as quickly as possible.

Only it doesn't tear. The wrapper merely crinkles between his fingers, stretching and fraying.

"Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth.

Steve swings his legs over the edge of the bed, abandoning his partner to plant his feet on the beige carpet to pick up another.

And the same goddamn thing happens.

He shakes the second wrapper in his hands, wringing it in frustration until Eddie scoots up behind him, snaking his hands around his middle.

And with Eddie's hardness pressing right up against his lower back well... Steve remembers just what they were doing here.

"Let me do it," Eddie offers sweetly, bringing his hands up to join Steve's own as he hooks his chin on his shoulder, "– Oof, that box is looking pretty full down there, Casanova."

"Shut up!" Steve laughs.

"Jesus Christ!" Eddie curses in his ear, struggling with the wrapper with enough force he begins shaking their joined form.

He drops the condom on the ground and brings his hands up to Steve's front, smoothing over his bare chest as they both glare down at a new enemy.

Eddie sighs.

"Let's just get dressed and go to the gas station then."

Update: 3/05/24 Part 2 or read the whole thing on ao3

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #5: Levin Deals

Prompt: barbarous || Master Post || On AO3

--

“You are completely lacking manners,” Aymeric said, voice dry and flat. “Utterly bereft of decorum and good sense.”

Affronted, Ixion snorted.

“Don’t you sass me, sir.”

Behind him in her lounging chair, Synnove stifled a laugh. Aymeric pointed at her without looking. “And you stay out of this!”

Synnove stopped bothering trying to hide her amusement at that.

The yard and its garden—both the myriad flowers and the kitchen garden—were typically Synnove’s domain at her Cedarwood home, but over the years, Aymeric had developed an affinity for tending the kitchen garden. The simplicity of digging in the soil, trimming back the herbs in their pots, keeping the rows of vegetables free of weeds, even readying the empty beds for winter, were chores that soothed his mind when the work of governance set him on edge. His developed green thumb proved useful, too, now that Synnove was still in recovery from her injuries and horrific aethershock sustained from the Final Day; she simply couldn’t do most of the work of keeping her home in order until she regained more of her strength.

His lady was also horribly indulgent of the overgrown colt that constantly snuck through the skies all the way from Gyr Abania to eat his vegetables.

Aymeric used the same finger he had pointed at Synnove to jab Ixion’s muzzle. The great unicorn jerked his head back with another snort, and glared at him with one baleful red eye.

Aymeric had regularly faced the might of the Dravanian Horde his adult life, and now regularly butted heads with the worst sorts of nobles and politicians in Ishgard. A spoiled unicorn, living legend or not, was not going to cow him.

Amandina, perched between Ixion’s ears and with only her head visible above the fluff of his mane, chittered, He says your dam was a hamster and your sire smelt of elderberries. Papa, what’s a hamster?

(Synnove’s laughter turned to outright cackling.)

“My mama was a saint and my da a gentleman, and I’ll thank you to leave the questions of my parentage out of this discussion,” Aymeric bit out, crossing his arms.

Ixion whickered, dipping his head, and Amandina peeped, He says sorry!

(Trust one the carbunclets to figure out how to communicate with a god’s steed or a Mhachi experiment or whatever Ixion actually was via “sympathetic aetherial resonance” as Synnove had put it, and we’re both levin! as Amandina had said.)

Sighing, Aymeric dragged his hand down his face. He’d been at this for over half a bell now, since discovering Ixion rampaging among the tomatoes and beets and radishes. And Ixion had been decimating the kitchen garden on a semi-regular basis for a few years now. It was far too late to actually put a stop to this, but he wasn’t going to let Rhalgr’s steed rule the roost.

Therefore: compromise.

He set his gaze on Ixion again and said, firm, “I’ll set aside one row of vegetables of your choice if you leave the rest of the kitchen garden alone.”

Ixion flicked an ear and pawed the ground. Once, twice, thrice, four times, five.

Aymeric clucked his tongue and shook his head. “No. Two.”

Ixion pinned his ears back and flared his nostrils.

Aymeric raised an eyebrow.

Ixion’s ears slowly half-perked again, and he pawed at the ground. Once, twice, thrice, four times.

Aymeric shook his head once more. “Two, final offer.”

Ixion grumbled, tossing his head (Amandina squealed in delight), then turned his head to look him straight on with one eye. He raised his hoof up, set it down. And, after another moment of thought, pawed at the ground. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Aymeric made a show of narrowing his eyes and tapping his chin, even as mentally he patted himself on the back. Three had been his initial thought, but the intelligent man did not let his opponent know his full hand in a negotiation. “Acceptable,” he finally said, and held out his hand.

Ixion tapped his palm with his horn. Deal sealed.

Synnove clapped behind him. Amandina cheered, then peeped as Ixion did a victorious piaffe as though he was the winner, Papa? What’s a hamster?

PREVIOUS || NEXT

[hopingandwishingjs5]

3s A Charm

First time posting here so please be gentle with me. I wrote this little fic for a friend who is mad about Ben Chilwell and basically just wanted smut.

This is all twisted fantasy from my twisted mind, I honestly have no inclination to how, what Mr Chilwell is like in bed!

This fic is about consensual sex between 2 adults M&F. Its pretty tame in comparison to some so don't get too excited.

If you're not 18 I suggest you leave this page.

Warnings - language, sex, slight tormenting.

Word Count 3156.

“Bennnnnnnnn”

Her nails dragged across his back as she moaned out his name.

He half smiled to himself at her actions, same response, different chick.

“Just hang on a little longer for me babe, just let me get there with you”

Ben’s hips drove into her at a harsh rate, his breathing heavy and his leg muscles feeling the workout he was giving them.

Their bodies were slick with sweat, they’d been tumbling and pawing at each other for hours, starting with a slight rub on the thigh whilst out for dinner with friends, then dancing or humping against each other in the nightclub for a couple of hours, only to end up all handsy and necking each other in the Uber travelling back to Ben's like 2 teenagers.

When they finally reached his house and the door closed behind them Ben had pushed her up against the nearest wall, (always a fan favourite he’d thought smugly to himself). His hands had pushed up into her long dark hair and he’d feasted on her mouth, his tongue driving in between her lips and taking no prisoners once he did. She’d let him, she’d welcomed the intrusion, the way he dominated her, the way his hands gripped her hips, dragged her thighs up around his waist and banged her back against the wall with such force she’d shrieked out in shock.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you tonight, I’m gonna make sure when you leave tomorrow you’ll be sore for days”

His mouth nestled against her ear as he spoke slow and deep, each word clear as a bell, and the reaction it gave her was a full body shudder and a clenching of her core like he’d already entered her.

She dropped her head back and it hit the wall,

“I look forward to it Chilly”

So here they were, in his bedroom, naked, sweaty and into round 3 of his promise. She honestly thought he was all talk, but she now knew he was definitely a man of his word!

Round 1.

The first orgasm had arrived approximately 10 minutes after setting the challenge when he’d stripped her in the lounge, dropped her onto the sofa and eaten her out whilst her legs sat on either of his shoulders. He was talented on the pitch, but it literally bore no measure to the skill he had with his tongue. He was relentless, licking, biting, sucking and eventually adding his fingers to the equation and having her screaming his name out whilst he held her down on the sofa underneath his mouth.

As she tried to catch her breath she’d brushed the sweat soaked hair from his forehead back and looked him in the eye as he smiled at her, his mouth, chin and nose glistening from the rewards of his ministrations.

“Wow, Benjamin, you should licence that tongue of yours, its should be listed as a lethal weapon” she breathed out.

He laughed and lifted her from the sofa, her legs automatically wrapping themselves around his waist,

“Babe, you haven’t had my cock yet, now that’s a lethal weapon”

Round 2.

He’d lay her on his bed and crawled his way between her legs, his hands drawing slowly up her legs skirting around her sensitive area and travelling on up over her stomach towards her breast where he started rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, then removing one hand he lowered his head and let his oh so talented mouth take over, his tongue lapping at the hard little nub, then his teeth raked across it then nipped it,making her gasp in pain and pleasure as he removed his mouth, replaced it with his thumb and forefinger and then repeated on the opposite breast. He could hear her moaning lowly, her breathing had sped up slightly and her thighs were now rubbing together.

“You like that babe?”

He spoke in between licking at the nipple he had been torturing with his tongue and teeth. She was biting her bottom lip, and she just nodded her head in response.

He smiled, he did like a silent partner…..

He crawled up higher and his mouth started working on her neck, just at the point where it met her shoulder, the fleshy edge where there was plenty of pliable skin for him to nip and suck and generally mark at will.

“Ben, please”

Her voice was a low moan, breathy and sultry.

“Babe?”

He never stopped,his mouth attached to her neck, now just below her ear, his tongue gently licking around the shell.

“Please, Justttttt”

He nipped at the front of her neck, licking afterwards to ease the slight pain.

“Babe?”

He was letting her hang there, her thighs could start a fire they were rubbing together so much, her hands gripping onto his shoulders, his back, into his hair, she was becoming undone and all he was doing was teasing her.

The feeling of power it gave him made his cock twitch and his adrenalin kick up another level.

“Speak to me babe”

He felt her shuddering breath as she tried to pull herself together enough to speak more than 2 words, but she was struggling because he’d moved back to her breasts and he was suckling on one, sucking it so deep into his mouth his nose was against her chest and could run his tongue all the way around it whilst it nestled within the cavity.

“Pleeeeease, Bennnnnnn, neeeeeeeeeeed ………… neeeeeeeeeeed to come”

She was gripping his hair tightly, allowing him the freedom to assault her body and bring her closer, slowly, so slowly to her climax, but she needed it now, the fire was building far too slowly for her.

His mouth came off her breast with a loud ‘pop’ and she shivered underneath him,

“Fuck!”

Ben smiled, this was too easy at times….

His hand skimmed her stomach then danced across her slick closely manicured core, feeling it twitch slightly as he teased it without actually entering the gateway.

“Want me to touch you there babe?”

He kissed and sucked on her stomach as he left the question hanging in the air. He felt her stomach muscles contract as he did and then felt the deep breath she took

“Please, oh god, yes”

She was gripping at the sheets on the bed, her legs had fallen wide apart from her knees and she was panting, the sweat now visible on her face, her make-up an abstract impression of what it had started out as.

“Your wish my command, blah, blah, blah”

Ben opened her legs the impossible inch more and drove 2 fingers deep within her without prior warning, her back arched and she cried out loudly, one arm rising and flopping across her eyes

“Oh God! Oh God!”

Ben watched as his fingers were sucked into her, the slick she was providing making movement back and forth so easy, she was so tight, so wet, so willing…..

He added a third finger, twisting them and then digging them in, searching for the softness he knew was the holy grail, Her legs shook, her back arched again and her hands were grabbing at anything they could reach

“There! There! Jesus…. Yes!“

And there it was, just at the end of his fingertip, he nudged it, stroked it, and generally pushed her over the edge of the cliff. He was rewarded with her core tightening around him so tight he thought he might lose the feeling in his fingers. The bed was soaked with her fluids and her body was limp from the experience.

He withdrew the digits and moved himself between her legs, feeling her jitter a little as his hips hit her sensitive middle as he moved. He lifted his fingers to her mouth and watched as she opened it slowly, her eyes heavy with post orgasm exhaustion.

“Clean me up babe, I’m gonna need them soon”

He lay watching her as she lapped at his fingers, drawing them into her mouth to let her tongue roll around them then push them out again.

She looked fucked-out, and Ben loved it.

Round 3.

“I can’t Ben, I’m done, I need to sleep”

He pulled her up from the bed sheets and hugged her to his chest,

“You can sleep later, I promise”

He wrapped his arms around her and brought his head down to kiss her, a long lingering, kiss that held the promise of so much more to come. His tongue pushed against her lips and she sighed as she let him in, hearing a low huff of a laugh as she did,

“Don’t be a fucker Ben, You’ve worn me out, we’re not all professional athletes you know”

He moved his head back and locked eyes with her,

“Poor baby, doesn’t want to be fucked by the professional athlete, says she can ‘go all night’ but actually she’s all talk”

He nudged her with his nose and let her flop back onto the bed as he looked down at her hoping his goading was enough to at least get another round out of her.

He watched as she huffed out a breath and sat up, her plumped up lips set in the straightest line she could manage whilst her eyes were angry slits

“Fuck off Ben! I can go all night with a normal human being, not one who’s intent on breaking me. How would you like it if I teased you and had you orgasming every 20 minutes? You’d want to rest too”

She’d now folded her arms across her enhanced chest and flicked her hair extensions over her shoulder where they lay limp due to sweat.

Ben smirked at her and then lifted his arms, fisting his hands and pretending to rub his eyes with them

“Boo Hoo, Poor me, some nasty man is trying to have sex with me by having lots of foreplay and teasing before we fuck and I can’t take it”

He spoke in a mocking tone and his stare backed it up.

She pushed at his chest

“How would you like it eh? Big Ben Chilwell?”

He sat up face to face with her and nodded at her whilst beckoning her with his hands

“Bring it on Princess”

He watched as her face showed the thoughts flashing in her mind then she moved round and her face set,

“Lie back Chilwell”

Ben smirked and lay down on his back, placing his arms behind his head and watched as she manoeuvred herself between his legs. She looked at him from under her ultra long lashes as she pulled her hair back, removing the hair bobble from around her wrist and tied it back.

Ben let out a small laugh “Let the fuckin games begin”

He watched as she lowered her head, her pink tongue peaking out from her lips and then he felt it run under his penis, he held his breath, he needed to hold it together.

Her hands gripped the base of his dick and she ran her long nails up one side and down the other, she felt him breathe in

“That okay for you Chilly?”

He looked at her and smiled,

“Fine Princess, you just carry on”

He focused his mind on his shopping list, he must remember to order sommmmmmmmmme dishwasher tablettttttttttttttttttts

She smoothed her lips down his dick and then dragged her tongue back up whilst keeping her mouth over it, gathering spit within her mouth she let it drip onto him then replaced her mouth with her hand, the movement of it up and down his now hard member was so much easier now it was wet. She was determined to get a response from him, so far all she’d seen was indifference.

She took him in her mouth, sucking, licking and letting her saliva coat him, then she sucked harder, letting him drop further back into her throat, her slight gag reflex hitting and there it was, his legs tense under her hands and as she looked up from under her lashes she saw him bite his lip. She repeated it again, only this time she let his dick sit against her throat and as she pulled him out she hummed along it,

“Fuuuuck”

His hand went to the back of her head and gripped her ponytail.

“Do that again”

He thrust up and she smirked as she lowered her head again, repeating the actions, feeling him twitch, tasting his pre-cum on her tongue, she felt him get harder, and his grip got tighter in her hair. He was huffing out breaths and swearing, promising her the world if she let him come in her throat, his legs were shaking, a slight sheen of sweat had appeared on them.

“That’s it, oh yeah, just….. take it babe…. just once more…. ju……….. what the fuc………..”

‘Pop’

She let him drop from her lips and she sat back, her hands now stroking his thighs, her eyes looking at his face that now carried a frown.

“Babe?”

“Chilly?”

“Babe, you can’t, I mean, I let you come, I got you off twice”

He held up 2 fingers as he spoke. 2 shaky fingers she noted.

“You did babe (She emphasised the word) but then you teased me lots, and you were mean afterwards”

She stuck out her bottom lip and made a baby face

“It sucks to be you at the moment doesn’t it Chilly?”

As she spoke she crawled up from between his legs to his chest, playing with his nipples, running her too long, too sharp nails across them, making him sink a little deeper into the mattress.

“D’you not like that Chilly? Not like having your sensitive nipples played with or teased?, Poor baby, poor professional athlete. Says he likes to ‘experiment and experience different things’ but actually, he doesn’t want to do anything that might ‘hurt’ him. Poor baby”

She smirked at him as she spoke, her voice dripping in sarcasm as she eased herself back a little then grabbed his dick and slid herself down onto it. Her reaction was a long deep sigh and his was a guttural moan that reverberated through his chest and she felt it on her hands resting there.

“Fuuuuuck, babe”

His hands came to her hips as she started riding him, her legs tight against him and her hands still resting on his chest.

Feeling her legs stating to shake she lifted herself, much to his dismay and turned herself around, facing his knees and sinking back onto him.

“Jesus babe, you’re killing me”

She laughed in between panting breaths

“That’s the aim Chilly”

He bent his knees and she gripped onto them, banging herself down onto him, feeling her own orgasm pitching as she did, the angle just perfect for her clit.

He felt her shudder, felt her start to clench around him, he was almost there, just a short minute behind her, she was good, she was so good and then

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Yesssssssssssssssssssss”

She came thick and fast all over his dick, squeezing and leaking all over him. Her legs held him tight, her hands clawing at his legs and as quick as she came, she scrambled off him. Turning quickly and locking eyes with him.

“That was sooo good”

He sat up and shook his head, his rock hard dick sat against his stomach, pre-cum oozing from it as he looked at her

“Not for everyone involved it wasn’t. You can’t leave me like this?”

He looked down at himself as did she and then they looked at each other.

He was quick, he grabbed her and pushed her down on the bed, quickly placing himself between her legs and using his own thighs to keep them open.

“It’s not over yet Princess, lie back and enjoy the ride”

He pushed his engorged member into her and watched as she grimaced a little, he knew she’d be over stimulated, but so was he!

He gave her a few seconds before he moved, easing himself back out, then back in.

“You okay there babe?”

She nodded her head and brought her legs around his waist, locking her ankles together behind his back.

“Let’s see what you’ve got Chilly”

“S’not fair really Princess, you’ve edged me for the past while, I dunno how long I can last”

He knew he wasn’t going to last long and that gave him anxiety, he loved to have control, to decide when, how and how long it took.

“Excuses excuses Chilly. All part of your professional athlete lifestyle eh?”

She watched as his face changed, she’d hit a nerve.

He grabbed her legs and pushed her knees back almost folding her in half, giving him maximum access so he could go deep.

She gasped as he drove into her, expletives slipping from his mouth as he did, sweat dripping from the ends of his hair onto her chest.

Suddenly he stopped.

Withdrew

Flipped her over and slipped back into her, her slick folds enveloping him like a welcome visitor.

He placed his arms under her stomach and lifted her hips up, giving him a better angle, he knew he was hitting all the right spots as she was gulping for air, gripping at his arms and her head kept dropping forwards.

His thrusts were strong, stronger than she thought he’d manage after the previous play. She could feel him hitting her g spot, pounding into her like he was drilling for oil.

“Chilly….. Please…. I’m gonna……..”

He heard her and he knew he’d won. He used one arm to lift her upper body so her back was against his chest, he felt her arm slip around the back of his neck, he slipped his hand lower and started to rub against her clit, circles, long strokes, then circles until he felt her fluttering, her legs shaking, her body starting to move and twist….

And she came….

And he came….. groaning loudly at the final release, feeling the tension leave his body as he emptied himself into her. He mentally hi-fived himself for checking she was clean and on birth control because the way this had played out stopping to put a condom on would not have worked out.

“Now can I sleep?”

They had finished the clean-up and were both lay in bed looking at the ceiling. Ben turned to her and smirked.

“If you must, but I have training early tomorrow, so will be waking you up early too”

She looked at him with wide eyes

“I can get myself up and dressed and call a cab, why do I need to get up so early?”

Ben laughed and stroked down her face with his knuckle

“No professional athlete does exercise without a pre- warm up babe”

As she turned over and he snuggled against her back he heard her say

“You’re an animal Chilly”

That made him smile.

[ginger-canary]

Curiosity Killed the Cat, Satisfaction Brought it Back

1207 words by gingercanary

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Dimension 20 (Web Series), The Unsleeping City

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Em | Angel of the Waters/Sofia Lee, La Gran Gata & Sofia Lee

Characters: Em | Angel of the Waters, Sofia Lee, La Gran Gata (Dimension 20)

Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Zine: D20 Zine Jam (Dimension 20), Neurotypicals? In this economy?

Summary: La Gran Gata and Sofie visit Em. Some feelings are expressed. It's cute it's simple it's for the @d20zinejam 2023, when you're here you're family: the WLW zine.

Follow the link to AO3 here, or check it out under the cut! Link to the full zine is here

The thing about cats is that while they don’t love swimming (generally), they love being near water. Something about sitting on the edge, watching patterns ripple through the reflections and listening to the eb and flow is magical. There’s probably an instinct to it too, making sure your own shadow doesn’t show and then trying to fish for some snacks.

La Gran Gata spent more time than she wanted to admit, mesmerised by the dirty rivers of New York, silly aquarium videos, and naturally- the fountain owned by Em.

When Sofia was imbued with a bit of La Gran Gata’s magic, certain things affected her more than others. Her eyes were clearly most affected, as were her nails (they would not stop growing), and some features of her behaviour shifted. The urge to sit atop furniture and ledges was significantly stronger, and she craved fish more often. Obviously that was also the reason why she spent so much time hanging around Em’s fountain- no other reason. There was absolutely nothing else that kept drawing her to this place whenever she had a spare moment.

On a random strangely sunny day, Sofia found herself sitting on the ledge of the bethesda fountain, La Gran Gata beside her as they both lazily watched tourists adjust the lenses of their cameras, trying to get the perfect shot of Em. Considering Em was actually sitting right next to Sofia, scratching behind La Gran Gata’s ears with the gentleness only a statue could bring.

“So how’s this-” Sofia vaguely gestured to Em’s misty pedestal “happening with you right here?”

Em waved a hand towards the pedestal. “Umbral arcana? I admit I stopped worrying about it after a while, the intricacies of its magic are complicated and layered. It protects us- the magical world from the human world, and sometimes that means letting them take pictures of me while I’m off on my own adventures.”

Sofia tilted her head to better examine the mist. “It’s interesting that it can affect both human perception and that of digital items.”

��I’m still not sure how a camera works, so I don’t ask too many questions.” Em smiled.

“You think I ask too many questions?” She sat up, raising an eyebrow.

In between them, La Gran Gata meowed and placed her front paws on Sofia’s thighs as if to calm her down.

“Hm, no. I think it’s normal to want to ask a million questions when a new world is revealed to you. I do think you’re a curious cat.”

Sofia looked at La Gran Gata. “Do I have you to thank for this?” She scratched the cat underneath her chin.

“No, mija. That’s just you, you overestimate how much I affect your personality.”

“Curious cat is just an expression,” Em added. “If no one asked questions we wouldn’t learn anything.”

“But you do have some effect on me, right?”

“Yes, but not in the ways you think.” La Gran Gata climbed into her lap and put her front paws on Sofia’s shoulders. “For example; I’m not the reason why you started spending much more time here.” With that, La Gran Gata winked out of existence, off to take a nap in the bodega.

Sofia pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Fuckin’ cat can’t even leave me in my ignorance for a bit, huh?”

Now it was Em’s turn to be curious. “What was that about?”

“So…” She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to figure out how to correctly express what she wanted to say. She averted her eyes, taking in the crowd still standing around the fountain instead. “Can we go somewhere, just anywhere else?”

Em shrugged and hopped down from the ledge, holding out a hand for Sofia. “Where would you like to go?”

Sofia jumped down and took Em’s hand, leading her to a more quiet area of central park. Well- a less crowded area of the park. She sat down next to a tree and picked at the grass as she tried to form the correct sentences. “So you know I’ve been- y’know- around here more and more. Just hanging out with you.”

“Yes?”

Feeling her heartbeat in her throat, she decided to pivot. “How you feelin’ about that?”

Em reached out, depositing a bunch of the grass Sofia had just pulled out into her lap with a crooked grin.

“Hey!” Sofia protested, brushing the grass off her jeans, tossing loose pieces at Em. “Who taught you to do that?”

“Years of observation. Humans love to pull at the grass when they want to fidget with something. Friends love to throw grass at each other.” Em gently tapped the soil. “Central Park’s grass has had a lot to endure.”

“You standin’ up for grass now?” Sofia smiled.

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “No, listen- let’s get back to it. To answer your question, I enjoy every second of the time you wish to spend with me.” When Sofia didn’t reply, she nudged her grass-covered knee. “Sofia, I’m not sure what this is about but I can assure you that whatever it is won’t make me like you any less.”

“I’m not sure of how to put this. When I learnt about this side of the city, I was very overwhelmed. Not just by the magic of it all but also obviously by grief, and by my frustrations with alcohol… But you were always there for me, just whenever I needed to chat- or company in general.” She ran a finger across the back of Em’s hand. “I uhm. I think that I’ve become attached to you in a different way now.”

Em flipped her hand, watching Sofia’s fingers dance across her palm now. “In what way?”

Sofia groaned. “You’re really goin’ to make me fuckin’ say it, huh?” She sat up on her knees, cupping Em’s face with both hands. “I like you, you stone angel. I’m not sure how that works or even if it’s fuckin’ supposed to work but I do.” She took a breath. “I like you.”

“Like in a…” Em laughed when Sofia slapped a hand to her forehead. “I’m kidding, I get it.” She took Sofia’s hands in hers. “I said whatever you had to tell me wouldn’t make me like you any less and I meant it, my dear. As far as Pete’s powers reach I could not have dreamt up something better.”

“Oh?” Sofia looked up at her, a small smile on her lips.

“While I don’t know how this would work-” she gestured at her stone body. “I’m willing to try.”

“Yeah… that’s a good question.” She moved a little closer, studying the intricate details of Em’s face. From the waves in her hair to the curve of her lips, everything was made so carefully as if the artist knew what Em would be.

Em brushed a finger along Sofia’s jawline, smiling. “Is is okay if I..?” She tapped Sofia’s lips with her thumb.

“Uhuh.” She smiled.

“Cool.” She kissed her.

If anyone in central park that day concentrated really hard on the women kissing beneath the large tree, they would find a spectral cat proudly watching from one of the lowest branches- its green and blue eyes twinkling.

[thecozykirin]

Daily Writing Challenge Day 6 - Expectation

( This story was a collaborative piece between me and my husband! About our mains pre-caravan days )

( Trigger warning for: Child abuse and grievous injury )

@daily-writing-challenge

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When it rains, earth hardens

It was a popular proverb within the Snowblossom Colony, one Yasashi had heard regularly growing up. His father in particular favored it, especially when he'd drag him from bed before the light of dawn had lit up the snow capped peaks of the mountains. There, as a young cub, Yasashi's father would take him to the coldest peak near their home, where a thick snowblossom tree stood.

Unbreaking, unbending, unyielding…an Ironbrew was expected to serve family and community as the embodiment of the weapons they crafted.

A pine does not withstand the blizzard if it has not grown within the embrace of its winds.

“Again.”

The male’s gruff voice called out from over the panting cub’s shoulder. The morning sun had yet to graze the sides of the mountains, causing a blanket of gloomy darkness to enshroud the pair. The chilled morning air sunk into the cub’s aching bones as he thumped his curled fist against the battered bark of the tree, the chattering of his teeth and shaking of his little body causing him to miss his prior mark by about an inch.

“You’re off.”

The cub’s ears lowered at the disapproval in his sire’s voice.

“Look at that. Your force is off too, were you looking to seduce your enemy with a cheek caress?!”

The sound of the older male’s paw slapping onto the tree caused the cub to flinch, tucking his chin down against his chest as he dropped his gaze to the snow. “I’m sorry.” The cub’s voice caught in his throat like sticky rice, hoarse from exhaustion.

“What was that? Speak up, boy. You’re not a mouse!”

“I-I’m sorry!” The cub managed to force the words out this time despite his frayed nerves. “I-I’m sorry, Baba, it’s j—“

Thwack.

The cub was slugged in the face by the back of his father’s paw, causing him to fall back into the snow that nearly swallowed him up once he fell. A dull ache exploded from the side of his face, an ache that was only slightly numb on the surface thanks to the snow but crept far deeper than just his flesh.

“You’re not a weanling anymore.” His father’s voice was terse and cold. “And when we are out here, you will address me properly or there will be consequences, do you understand?” Before the cub could answer, his patriarch came marching over to yank him out of the snow pile by the scruff, giving him a little shake as he reiterated. “Do-you-understand?”

“I-I understand, s-sir. I-I’m sorry!”

The older male snorted, dropping his son where the snow was thinner. “You’d think with all that whining I had a daughter.” Folding his arms behind his back, he took a step back. “Again. We will stay out here until the cold sinks into our bones if we must.”

Pushing himself to his feet, the cub wiped his running nose with a soft sniffle as he got into stance and punched the tree.

“Again.”

The cub punched again.

“Again.”

The flesh on his knuckles bruised and split open.

“Again.”

His blood stuck to the tree, coalescing quickly on the bark thanks to the cold and adding a red sheen.

“Again!”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The ache of his gouged eye brought Yasashi back to the present. The pain built within his head like churning thunder and released with a vicious boom that threatened to make his teeth chatter, he knew there would not be a break in this storm for quite a while. Soft and quick footfalls caught the veteran's ear, and upon inhaling through his nose, the warm scent of lavender and parchment filled his senses. "Soo-ha…"

The petite Pandaren did not reply as she pressed a rag full of ice against where his left eye had been, Yasashi could feel that her paw was trembling slightly.

Her silence was deafening to him. "Little Be--"

A hard chuff cut him off; through his remaining eye, Yasashi could see a deep frown was set firmly on her muzzle, eyes red as though she had been crying. "Little Bell, I'm fi--"

A sound resembling a bark left her next, and the mute woman fell back to her knees, signing rapidly. 'You are not fine!' the movements of her paws were quick, curt. Though she lacked a voice, how it would sound right now would be clear in his head.

Yasashi paused. Ever since fleeing from Pandaria, the two hardly had a tense moment between them. Drawing in a breath, his eye searched the confines of their dingy Inn room. Gadgetzan was an ever expanding, ever growing town in terms of trade, but comfort and hospitality was still leagues behind it. "Where's Kimiko?"

Soo-ha exhaled, removing a round container from a leather bag that laid at the foot of the bed, popping open the top and applying what looked to be some sort of cream to the underside of the iced cloth. 'In the closet taking a nap. It was bad enough she had to watch it happen, Yasashi. I didn't want her to see anymore than she had to.'

Ah, she used his name…that was all the confirmation he needed to know how angry she was with him. "Is she alright?"

Pursing her bottom lip out, she nodded faintly in response. 'As well as you can be after watching your father get his eye torn out in a blood ring.'

"It was a dirty trick, Little bell. These matches don't allow for weapons." Then again, from what he had observed in Pandaria, it didn't surprise him an Orc had not fought with honor. He should have known.

'Oh, yes. Because having it ripped out with fingers would've made it so much better, yes?' Soo-ha's face deadpanned as she scooted forward, signing. 'This ointment is supposed to help keep the area clean, I will bandage it afterwards.' She paused, as though debating something before giving into her conscious and signed. 'It may burn a bit.'

And burn it did.

The fact that she debated leaving out this fact amused Yasashi; as small as she was, her fire could burn just as bright and hot as his and perhaps, even hotter. The male grunted in response as the placating burn of the oitment was smeared across his socket. "Well, I suppose it's good he at least took out the eye on the ugly side, mh?" Truth be told, the left side of his face was a charred fleshy mess anyhow. What was one more wound to it?

Soo-ha's jaw tensed as she worked, only replying once her task was done and her paws were free. 'I would rather you have both of your eyes…' her frown tightened in disapproval, but her eyes did soften. 'And no part of you is ugly, just a bit marred.'

Yasashi let out a soft snort. "Suppose I'll take your word for it. Ugly makes the gold though, this town will pay anything to see two grizzled bodies tear each other apart."

'There are other ways to make gold.'

"I don't have access to what I need to do blacksmithing out here, Little bell. Nor, will I waste the funds to acquire it."

'I could try to help, I could --'

"No." Yasashi cut her off because she could even finish. "I don't want you working in this town."

'And why not?' Soo-ha huffed. 'I've two working paws, I can contribute.'

"You're also barely a head taller than a Goblin and with the type of people you see walking into this town, I don't like the sound of that. Anyone could walk through that port or those gates, Soo-ha. Even a Shado-pan."

The mention of the Shado-pan caused Soo-ha to pause, and her ears fell against the back of her head as if deflating. 'So, what am I to do, Yasashi?'

"You're to let me handle this."

'I am to watch you tear yourself apart?'

"If that is required to get by, then yes." Yasashi's voice grew terse.

'And when those blood matches have taken both of your eyes and all of your limbs, how do you plan on defending us then? Will we throw the gold paid with your body at them and hope one piece hits them between the eyes?'

"I would have hoped you'd have a little more faith in me, Little bell. I've gotten us this far just fi--"

Soo-ha slammed a small fist down onto the end table, cutting him off as her paws rose barely a moment later to retort. 'I do have faith in you, Yasashi. I have all the faith in the world in you. But it hurts. It hurts to see you rip yourself apart for money and it hurts knowing that I have had a paw in putting you into that position.'

The bristle that had built up in his pelt fell, fur relaxing as a gentle chuff left the behemoth's muzzle. "Soo-ha, you've put me in no such position." he reached out to gently grab hold of her paws and she left him, frowning as he felt the tremble in them. "I ripped myself apart body and soul for Pandaria in a thankless position, I've had that sacrifice spat in my eye." Bitterness crept into his tone, memories of the trial still fresh in his mind. "I chose to abandon my mission to bring you home, I chose to protect you, to serve you--"

Soo-ha flinched, gently pulling her paws from his grasp and signing. 'I don't want you to serve me, Yasashi. I've never wanted that.'

"It is my bound duty as your protector."

'You are also a husband and a father, even if unofficial.' Soo-ha's eyes softened once more, sadness creeping into them like water beneath a door. 'Kimiko looks up to you so much, you know. She wants to be just like you.'

She wants to be just like you.

While those words would've stirred pride in any other father, it caused his heart to clench in fear; he was nothing to aspire for. "That is not expected of her."

'And it is of you?'

"Of course!" Yasashi's voice rose. "I'm an Ironbrew. Unbreakable, unyielding, unbending."

Soo-ha's brow furrowed, but she did not withdraw. Instead, she brought her paws up to gently cradle his face, touching her nose against his and drawing her paws away to sign. 'You were always that and more, my Mountain. A name has nothing to do with that…and a name does not make you unending. Even the finest swords break under the right pressure.' With their gazes met, Soo-ha added. 'What has that name ever brought you other than pain?'

Yasashi paused, maw growing slack. He had no rebuttal for that…because there was none. "What am I without my name, Soo-ha?"

'You are our mountain.' The edges of Soo-ha's muzzle twitched upwards weakly. 'You are a fighter, protector, a husband and father…and the most noble man I know.' She paused and in an act of tenderness, she gently rasped her tongue against the side of his cheek. 'And I love you.'

A warm rumble rolled within the pit of his chest, and Yasashi brought both of his arms around the small Pandaren, hugging her close to the fur of his chest. As they laid together, Yasashi's eye fixed on the ceiling, his thoughts somewhat dulling the pain of his empty socket. "I think…it's time for a new name then."

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

"Looks like neither of us could sleep" for Gus and Demeter

"Looks like neither of us could sleep, eh?"

Demeter startles at the new voice in the dawnlight, tail bristling. Though it wasn't entirely uncommon to find other cats straggling around the clearing after the Ball had concluded, she hadn't expected somecat to approach her; most kept decidedly to themselves after an evening spent in such close proximity, and, frankly, Demeter had been counting on it while she got her bearings about her, trying to loosen the tightening that had settled in her lungs.

The scent that trails just behind the comment diffuses her initial flash of fear quickly, but her nerves persist in their scraping away at the lining of her stomach, prickling unpleasantly under her skin.

"Oh, hello Gus," Demeter greets politely in spite of herself, instinctually standing and holding her paws before her. "What are you doing out here? I figured you'd have gone back to the theatre."

"You would have been correct, but that walk gets longer every year," Gus grumbles, waving at her to sit back down, the end of his sentence hitching as he slowly settles himself nearby. "And my granddaughter is a very good host. Though -" He winces as he rolls his shoulder back. "Her little bed is not the best option for an old tom like me."

Demeter half smiles at the picture that conjures in her head. "Jellylorum didn't put you up?"

"Oh, of course she did," Gus snorts, faux offense written across his muzzle in spades; the idea that his own daughter wouldn't over accommodate in every way - for her own flesh and blood no less - imagine that. "Etcetera is very persuasive."

The two cats fall back into a companionable silence. Or at least companionable from Gus' end; he seems satisfied enough with where he ended. Demeter - meanwhile - tucks herself back in her own thoughts, watching as the baker down the street hauls his supplies inside to begin the morning preparations anew; he'd been waiting for his delivery for an hour. She resists the urge to tangle the fur by her ear in a knot.

"Would you like me to ask why you're out here on your own?" Gus prompts eventually, following her line of sight. "You've a new one at home, haven't you? Full house now?"

It is, in its own way, surprising that Gus remembers that much of her goings on, though he'd pointedly avoided Sillabub's name. Jellylorum had told them day-to-day - even hour-to-hour - was wildly different for him, so perhaps she shouldn't be surprised; she must have caught him in a good something or other - at least about as good as they were wont to get.

"No?" Gus asks when she doesn't respond, after a perfectly timed beat. "Then none of my business."

Demeter worries the inside of her lip in her teeth. She feels the sudden desire to slip her tongue between them instead and allow the conversation to fizzle out. 

However…

"I just felt…"

"Smothered?" the older tom ventures, unprompted.

Demeter, taken aback at the forthright statement, pauses. Considers…nods.

Gus hums, settling his chin on his paws. "Very common, you know, especially around this time."

The comfort was simple and direct, but it did very little by way of making any headway in the tangled net of her thoughts. Though the effort certainly should be appreciated - and it was - Demeter tugs at her claws, guilt unassuaged.

It is a long time before Gus speaks again, seemingly having fallen asleep. The exact goal - she would have hoped - of getting out in the first place.

"Change is a rather troublesome beast," he murmurs, opening a single, yellowed eye to look at her. "You get used to doing things a certain way, then they're different."

Demeter pulls her knees to her chest, listening to the pivot curiously.

"I remember sleeping all on my own for years and years," he continues, shaking his head. "And then suddenly there was another cat in my bed and kittens kicking me in the ribs, and I thought: 'What has become of me - how ever did I get here?'"

Demeter holds herself very still, as though any movement would knock the tom off his trail of thought. "But you get used to that change after a time - wonder how you possibly could have been without it."

Gus sighs; a forlorn sound that whistled past his teeth. "Then, someday, they change again, and again, and again, and you're slower to keep up. Think maybe you won't be able to this time, but you manage."

"At some point, things change once more, but you're too old and too set in your latest way to be comfortable. But it happens whether you like it or not. And that," Gus concludes, looking as though he were merely commenting on the weather, but there was something heavy trailing behind his words. He yawns, and pointedly rolls his shoulder again. "Is the way we stay. Though often, you've forgotten where it is you left off."

Demeter carefully pieces together what she believes the old tom is attempting to explain to her; wonders if he was explaining anything to her consciously at all, or if he'd forgotten why he'd started in the first place, and she'd fallen into the trap of projecting onto him.

When Gus sits up to look at her directly, gaze intent somewhere behind the milky white of his cataract, she finds the latter thought fade into the back of her mind. "Sometimes, you just need a moment to remember. They'll wait for you." 

The theatre cat says no more to her that evening, returning contentedly back to his own world as though he'd never spoken to begin with.

Demeter continues to stare after where the baker has disappeared, feeling the cool air of the morning sting in her eyes as her shoulders begin to lift.

Send me a sentence and I’ll fill at least five more in after it for a little mini-fic.

[cunning-matriarch]

Queen to Queen

Shenzi had been feeling a touch restless, even though she'd reunited with Ed and Banzai---she couldnt settle herself tonight.

Quietly getting up so she wouldnt wake Ed, she decided to take a walk. Maybe she'd grab something to eat to settle herself but if she was honest she wasn't hungry.

She preferred the savannah at night--it was peaceful. No ugly lions to bother her and the stars were so beautiful, especially on a full moon like tonight with not a cloud in the sky.

The queen found herself staring up at the sparkling sky when a sound caught her attention--a whoop. A name. Unlike when she heard Cheezi, this was a name she recognized.

She almost tripped over her own paws in her haste to follow the sound.

A ways away, another large adult female hyena had been whooping for almost an hour. Even after all the years separated part of her hoped to see her birth clan again. To see her mother, her friends and her queen. The male that had been by her side nudged his head into her neck. "My queen....."

The larger didnt look at him.

He sighed. "Nyota....."

Her ears flattened to her head. "I know Jabari.....just...go back to the den....I'll be back soon."

Jabari looked at her with worry but nodded. "Alright alright---if youre not in the den at sunrise though I'm coming back to find ya--and I'll bring the kids" He grinned and gently bonked his head against her shoulder to try and make her laugh which he succeeded in. She laughed and shook her head.

"Yeah yeah....go on." She tossed her head and watched him until he disappeared among the foliage. Finally letting her posture sag with a sigh. As she looked back up, her ears twitched, eyes widening.

For the first time, someone finally responded. They whooped back and she knew exactly who it was!

Nyota almost crashed into Shenzi in her haste, Shenzi rapidly backing up a few paces to give them both some space. Breathing heavily.

Her eyes were wide, legs trembling. She felt like she couldn't find her voice, inwardly debating if she was seeing things so Shenzi ended up speaking first.

"...Kid? Nyota?" Each hyenas whoop was unique, their own name and call to identify themselves among the clan. It was part of Shenzi's job to know them by the time they were old enough to join the hunt.

Hearing her queen say her name broke the floodgates, Nyota rammed into Shenzi all over again. Pressing her head along the older females shoulder and under her chin with anxious laughs mixed with sobs.

"Qu-qu-queen Shenzi! Queen Shenzi! Y-yes! Yes! I-its me----i didn't...didn't think I'd ever see you again!" The young queen cried. Though right now she didnt feel like a queen...she felt like a lonely lost cub who'd finally been found again. "Where--where did you all go!? I---the fire! The smoke I couldn't...I couldn't find--you were all---I got burned I couldn't---!"

"Hey hey hey kid hey slooowww down! breathe!" She interrupted the others, returning the affectionate gestures by bumping their foreheads together. "Have you been alone this whole time?"

She snuffled around the younger hyenas ears and forehead worriedly at the news of a injury. Shenzi was on decent terms with Aza, Nyotas mother---though she wasn't exactly sure if they were friends they were at least friendly. She remembered how heartbroken Aza was when Nyota disappeared, as she'd been Aza's only cub.

Nyota took a deep, shuddering breath to calm herself though the tears hadnt quite stopped. "It--it isnt bad now--all healed." She shifted to show where her haunch and hind leg had been badly burned, ears flattening when she saw Shenzi cringe. "I got by okay! I-I was alone for a little while....but then I met a male! He wasnt from our clan, his names Jabari! We have a clan now..." The tears were starting to slow, the snuffling causing small giggles.

Conversation between the two matriarchs went back and forth for much longer than either of them anticipated, mainly Shenzi asking questions while Nyota caught her up on what had been happening in the area and in her own life....until Nyota fell silent for a few minutes.

The young hyena seemed to be feeling a touch awkward. "I....I didnt stop looking for you.....I just didnt know where you went....I couldnt find you or anyone else from our clan" Her gaze lowered the longer she talked until she was just staring at the ground. "Are.....are you angry?"

"Angry? Oh honey.......no. No of course not. I'm just glad you're ok."

"Really? Why...why didnt anyone come back? Where did everyone go? What...what about my mom?" She looked up at the older hyena...and Shenzi felt like she was back in their old territory telling little cubs a old story.

"We got all split up after the fire...I even lost my ear trying to get t' a lil one outts the flames. Went to a good territory bout a day and a half travel from the pridelands, your mom is there. I even lost Banzai and Ed for a while......" Her ears drooped and she shifted as the memory was painful.

"That far? But....Queen Shenzi then what're you doing here in the backlands? Is anyone else here? Is my mom here too?"

Shenzi giggled as Nyota addressed her as 'Queen'. "Kid....I aint your queen anymore ya know. Youre the queen of your /own/ clan now! You can jus' call me Shenzi...but yeah. Safer to be further away. I came back lookin' for Banzai and Ed! We live in the backlands now, jus' the three of us. I uh...."

The matriarch huffed a little and looked up at the stars. "I gave it up...being queen'a the main clan to look for 'em. Your mom is still with the main clan, with my sister Niambi."

Nyota wasn't sure how to feel about that....it was a little uncomfortable. Shenzi was the only queen she'd known and calling her as such was the only way she'd known since she was a cub.... but she smiled hearing about the two males. "Im glad youre all ok. We have a few spare dens around the backlands youre welcome to use."

"Awwww well arent you sweet, kid!" She laughed then took a big breath, looking toward the horizon. They'd been talking for hours it seemed and sunrise was on its way. "We're doing alright though." She chuckled and head bumped the younger female. "Dont be a stranger, kid."

"I wont! I wont--never again. I gotta get back...or Jabari will come get me with the cubs." She chuckled and Shenzi snickered. "Thank you, Queen Shenzi."

"Yeah yeah yeah." Shenzi laughed. "Queen to queen, I hope to see you and your little ones around on friendly terms" She watched Nyotas retreating form with a smile, feeling better than she had been when she left their den that night.

She hoped she could at least catch a couple hours piled up before Banzai and Ed got up.

[lastdr3am3r445]

🍰Dessert Before Dinner🍰

'Ello 'ello! Your favorite Strawberry Smut Peddler is coming at you live from Ventura, CA with a story written specially for the illustrious @katsukisdynamite (she's currently working on her blog, but do check out her work, she is truly spectacular... 🤩)

TodoBakuDeku X Fem!Reader

CW/Mentions: Poly Smut, Daddy Kink, Slight Hard Dom Themes, Oral (giving & receiving), Fingering, Edging & Denial, Temperature Play, Overstim, Pet Names, Degradation, Praise, Creampie (I guess, but its not mentioned specifically)

Word Count: 4,219

Summary: You get home just in time for dinner, but the boys think you look good enough to eat, and decide to indulge in a little dessert before dinner.

*** 18+ Content - MDNI , All Characters are adults***

Without Further Ado... Smut under the Cut!

Needly raindrops pricked your skin as you scurried through the drizzle to get to your apartment. It had been so sunny when you left, too. You were thinking what a waste it was wearing your new sundress when you smelled an oh so familiar aroma; chicken stock, kelp, bonito flakes…

“Mmmm… dashi.”

Shouto must have conned Katuski into making cold soba again. You could practically hear the argument in your head:

“No! No way!”

“Why not?”

“We’ve already had soba twice this week, you fucking fiend! No!”

“Pleeeaaase, ‘Tsuki-chi~”

And a soft blush would creep up Katsuki’s face, all the way up to his ears, then his pout would drop into a scowl, and…

“Tch. Fine! But this is the last time!”

And he’d mutter under his breath the entire time he got out his ingredients “something-something-icy-hot-bastard-something-it’s-all-he-fucking-eats.” Shouto had a knack for pushing all the right buttons to stroke Kacchan’s daddy kink just right.

You laughed silently to yourself as your key ground into the lock, a harmony of “welcome home!” greeted you as you toed off your shoes at the door.

“Dinner’ll be ready soon! Make sure you’re washed up!” Katsuki scolded preemptively, without even bothering to looking up from the scallions beneath his knife.

“Yes, ‘Tsuki-chi..” You teased, he paused his chopping to glare fiery daggers at you, only to resume with a shake of his head and additional muttering under his breath.

Shouto was the first to greet you in person, rising from his seat at the island to meet you at the door. He took your face in both hands, and kissed your forehead, the tip of your nose and finally your lips before saying, “Welcome home, Angel. How was your day?”

You waved away the pink dusting your cheeks, “Long..” you sighed.

“Then you should come sit, make yourself comfortable.” He smiled, offering his elbow to escort you to the couch. He never understood it, but his behavior always made him seem so… regal. He never failed to make you feel like a princess.

You flopped down into the waiting cushions with a sigh, only for Izuku to reach over and paw at your thigh,

“Noo, c’mere..” He whined. You obliged with a playful sigh, throwing your leg over his hips and pulling yourself up to face him. His broad palms rested on your thighs, and he looked up at you with cheeky grin,

“Hi~” He said.

“Hi..” Your hands found their way around to the nape of his neck, fingers toying with the curls there, elbows cradled in his broad shoulders..

He ran his hands over your legs until his crooked fingers crawled beneath the hem of your skirt, and then meandered down and around to cup the sides of your thighs. The motion sent little tingles up your spine, and his proximity to your more intimate areas set them aflutter.

“This new?” he asked, face scrunched up and curious about your dress.

“Yeah, kinda..”

“I like it..” He craned his neck up to give you one of his cappuccino kisses, deep and sweet, but still humming with potential energy; those crooked fingers finding their way under the elastic of your panties to give your ass a firm squeeze.

He broke the kiss when he felt a warm flush radiate from your face, and brought his nose to trace the contours of your jaw until his breath fanned the hollow behind your ear, “I’d very much like to see it off of you..” You felt him grin against your neck, before his teeth sunk into it, pulling a gasp from you before you were able to stop it.

��I’m glad to hear I was not the only one who thought so..” A cool voice spoke up behind you, startling you only slightly.

What had you leaping from your skin was slender, icy fingers, creeping along your jaw above where Izuku had been nibbling. Shouto’s thumbs rested on either of your temples, the tips of his fingers beneath your chin; he tilted your head back to meet him. Izuku reflexively bucked against the friction your leaning provided.

“You look truly radiant, Angel..” Shouto spoke, before leaning down, and pressing a kiss to your lips, slow and tender, like water filling a stream as a glacier melts. When the kiss ended, your lashes fluttered, trying to uncross your eyes.

“Oh.. I’m sorry…” Your heart leapt to your throat.

“I didn’t realize we were starting with dessert…” Katsuki’s voice, already gruff on a normal day, had dropped into a much more commanding baritone. His hand fisted on his hip.

“Katsuki, I-”

“What’s my name?” Shouto’s hands found your shoulders while Katuski began his steady advance into the living room.

Your eyes darted away, hoping to hide the embarrassment coloring your face;

“D-Daddy..”

Izuku twitched beneath you, his hardening length straining uncomfortably against his shorts watching your cute face pink up and your voice grow flustered.

Katuski came to a stop in front of you, nothing but Izuku and the couch he sat on between the two of you. He caught your lip beneath his thumb, a curled finger tucked under your chin guided you to face him.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Princess.”

“Sorry, Daddy…”

“Are we feeling greedy today, baby girl?”

“N-no! I was just-”

His fingers unfurled, clutching the side of your neck, his thumb dropping to complete the hold at your throat, not yet applying pressure, but threatening to.

“Oh, so we’re lying now?” He purred malignantly.

You hadn’t noticed you had leaned forward until you felt Izuku’s warm tongue lick a path between your breasts, catching your breath in your throat.

“No..” The sound came out more like a squeak than actual speech.

“No?..” Katsuki craned his head back, looking down his nose through lidded eyes as he tapped his finger twice against your throat, a warning.

“No, Daddy.”

“Oh good, because you know what happens to liars in this house?” His grasp tightened slightly, making your mouth water.

Izuku perked up from your cleavage, “C’mon Kacchan, ask her again..” His teeth nipped at the flesh of your breast while Shouto’s fingers skated down your shoulders, catching the straps of your dress, and sliding them down your arms to bare your chest, “Yes, I think she’ll be much more forthcoming..” He agreed before you felt him replace your discarded straps with cool kitten licks against your shoulders.

He loosened his grip, “Alright…” You felt his thumb come up to trace your bottom lip again, “Your boys are vouching for you, Princess, so I’ll ask again…” You squirmed beneath his touch, shifting your hips against Izuku’s, making him toss his head back, sucking air through his teeth while Shouto’s hands and the straps of your dress held you gently in place.

“Are we feeling… greedy?” His face was inches from yours, a cheshire grin playing on his lips.

Your words were lost on your tongue, so you nodded against his palm and closed your eyes, only for them to fly open when you felt your mouth invaded by a thick, calloused thumb, which quickly found your tongue, and pressed it down.

“I think we can oblige that, don’t you boys?” He chided over your yelps and whines. Shouto’s teeth found the crook of your neck, and his fingers your nipples, Izuku gave a lust laden giggle while he chewed his bottom lip and watched the two of them work you as drool puddled in your mouth.

Katsuki echoed with a dark chuckle of his own, releasing your tongue from beneath his thumb, allowing you to suck it wantonly. He pulled it from your lips with a wet pop, and gripped the sides of your face,

“Strip, and get on all fours.” He growled.

Shouto backed up slightly to give you space to scramble out of Izuku’s lap to do as you were told. He pouted at the loss, and beckoned Shouto to take your place. Before he could, however, Katsuki tangled newly freed fingers in green curls, and yanked them back roughly, eliciting a moan from Izuku.

“Don’t think I forgot you started this, Deku.” Only Izuku’s panting breaths could be heard in response, accompanied by his wide, lopsided grin.

“Brat..” Katsuki snarled through gritted teeth., “Get on your back. Head between her knees.” He flicked a finger in your direction before stomping around the couch to greet your form, ready and waiting to be used.

You looked up at Katsuki towering over you, palming his cock through his sweats.

“Are you gonna make me feel good, baby?”

You nod, yet another wave of blood rushing to your cheeks, “Yes, Daddy..”

You startled a little, but spread your knees farther apart when Izuku settled beneath you, now shirtless, his scars and muscled torso on full display.

“Do you want Deku to make you feel good?” You looked down into deep green pools, shimmering with want. Izuku’s hands found your thighs again, and he nipped and licked at the flesh there.

“Uuh-huh!” You gasped, briefly disregarding protocol for the man between your knees monopolizing your senses.

“Do you want Deku to make you cum?”

“Y-yes..” Where was this going?

Katsuki pondered for a moment.

“Okay, Deku can make you cum. In fact..” He crouched before you, meeting your eyes, “I expect it.”

“Mmhm.” He continued, “I want you to cum, as much as you want, all over Deku’s face.” You looked down at Izuku’s face, his eyes were now blown wide, thin emerald rings encircling his pupils, which seemed to focus hazily on your face. Katuski stood.

“You can cum.” He repeated, “He cannot.” As though to emphasize his point, Shouto yanked down Izuku’s shorts, and settled himself between his knees.

“What?!” Izuku snapped, glaring upside down at Katuski.

“Shouto will see that he doesn’t, won’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Tsuki~” You hear from behind you. Beneath you Izuku shudders, eyes fluttering closed as Shouto starts the process of edging him out of his mind.

When you looked up, Katsuki’s cock was lolling out over the waistband of his sweats, veins running the length of it like super highways delivering blood. His hand found your hair and tucked it behind your ear,

“And you are going to see that I do. Won’t you, Princess?”

One palm caressed your hair, gathering it all in a ponytail at the back of your head; the other jerked his cock, crystalline beads of precum forming on the head of it. You nodded, letting your tongue hang out of your mouth, a viscous strand of drool rolling off the tip and onto your chest.

Having witnessed that spectacle, a hungry look darkened Katsuki’s features. He patted his cock against your waiting tongue, the salty precum almost bitter against your tastebuds. He rutted once.. Twice… three times against the flat of your tongue, before using his handle on your hair to sink you all the way down, your nose coming flush against his pelvis.

You gagged on his head, the force of his thrust knocked you back on your heels, only for your cunt to meet Izuku’s waiting tongue. You moaned around his cock as Izuku started lapping at you like he’d been starved for days.

Katsuki pulled himself from your mouth, saliva cascading down your chin as you spluttered and coughed. Before your tongue could find your words, Izuku’s lips found your clit.

“Z-Zuzu!” You gasped, your eyes squeezed shut, and your hands coming down to entangle themselves in his hair. Katsuki’s grip tightened on yours as he yanked your head back up to meet his face.

“Really? Am I gonna have to fuck that name out of your mouth?” His voice rumbled before he impaled your face on him again, and proceeded to fuck the back of your throat again and again.

You knew you’d be hoarse, even so, Izuku licked delicious moans from the pit of your stomach, one hand kneading your thighs, the other probably lost somewhere in Shouto’s hair.

Izuku laved over your sex, working in a methodical circuit between your folds, purling his tongue over your clit, and sinking into your dripping trench before returning to the beginning, repeating this ritual more quickly with each revolution, until he was almost hysterical, at which point his tongue would stammer against your skin, which was likely the point he would have cum if Shouto wasn’t responsible for curtailing such an event.

It was at that point, however, that your thighs trembled and clenched around his face. You ground into his lips and nose while you sucked feverishly at Katsuki’s cock. Izuku continued to work your cunt through your orgasm, swallowing every ounce of it that you gave him.

The feeling morphed into a pleasurable flavor of pain as you approached overstimulation. You bucked away to escape his tongue, only for him to plant both hands on your hips and pulled you hard against him, his vision tunneling on lapping up every drop of you.

You didn’t know you had started crying until the tracks on your cheeks had started to cool. You looked up at Katsuki through glistening lashes, his punishment on your throat also grew more frenzied.

“Gonna… Fill your… Pretty… Mouth… Fuck!” He came with a shout as he dumped hot ribbons of cum down your throat before pulling out of you unceremoniously.

You collapsed forward coughing, gagging, sobbing into your folded elbows as another orgasm ripped through you, from Izuku’s tongue, Katsuki’s rough treatment, the knowledge of Shouto torturing the former at the command of the latter...

“He almost came, that time, Tsuki..” Shouto mewled behind you.

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki hollered, eyes still trained on you as you worked his twitching cock back to life. Once he was satisfied, he walked out of your limited peripheral, still caved in to your release.

“Why don’t you save our girl, and I’ll give this cumslut what he really wants..”

As though on cue, lean, pale legs entered your view and knelt in front of you. You felt cold, refreshing hands smooth over your back and rump, and a mild voice floated into your ear,

“Can you sit up for me, darling?”

You nodded dazedly, but failed to move.

“Hey!” Katsuki barked. Next thing you knew, Izuku vanished from between your legs, granting you a reprieve from his entrenchment in your pussy, allowing your muscles to loosen, and your body to relax.

Shouto turned you over, and pulled your limp body into his lap, arms folded behind his neck, his arms wound around your waist in full view of your other two partners, Katsuki knelt between Izuku’s knees.

“Selfish brat!” His hand was at the nape of Izuku’s neck, pulling him firmly off the floor to look him in the eye. Izuku failed to focus on him, though, his disoriented gaze cast to the ether.

“Tch. Filthy slut.” Katsuki cursed, “You that cum-drunk? Just from a little face-sitting?” He pulled Izuku closer, and licked a trail across his lips, sampling the slick that coated them before releasing him back into a crumpled heap on the floor.

Izuku giggled unintelligibly, eyes drifting to the ceiling. Katsuki smirked, dick twitching at seeing his boyfriend, all mighty number one in such a state.

One of Shouto’s hands ghosted over your ribcage, softly palming your breast, the glacial touch perking your nipples and raising goosebumps over your chest and arms. His other slid down, avoiding your over-worked clit, instead teasing warm fingers at your slit. The difference in temperature quickly had you dripping again; your head fell back to rest against his shoulder, his lips at the shell of your ear while you both watched, transfixed on the power play between the two men.

“M’gonna fuckin’ obliterate you, Deku..” Katsuki spat through gritted teeth, rubbing the head of his cock up and down Izuku’s entrance, before sheathing himself in a firm, deep stroke. Both men cried out, Katsuki breaking into a sweat at the stimulation on his still sensitive cock.

“Dammn, Sho~ No wonder he almost came, so fucking gooned out...” Katsuki laughed, flush already rising to his cheeks as he gave a few tentative thrusts into Izuku, who panted uselessly beneath him.

“What can I say?” Shouto’s breath tickled your ear, “I’m good with my hands..” As though to emphasize his point, Shouto slid two slender fingers into your dribbling cunt, and curled them against your g-spot, coaxing a broken groan from your rubbed-raw throat.

“You moan so sweetly for me, baby…” His whisper raised the hair on the back of your neck, and you gasped, your hips moving on their own as they rocked against Shouto’s fingers, your pussy aching around them while you watched Katsuki pin Izuku’s hips to the floor, his cock fucking in and out of him.

“Missing something, love?” He smiled against your ear, his cock flexing against your back.

“Uh.. uh-huh…” You moaned.

He chuckled, and you were surprised when he moved his hand from your cunt to hook behind your knee, his other arm wrapped around your waist as he lifted you effortlessly over his cock, teasing you open.

“What do we say?”

“P-please, Sho..”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” He dropped you down onto his throbbing cock, punching another hoarse moan from your lungs, but remained still.

“Sho..” You whined.

“Promise me something first, Angel..”

“Okay, what? Tell me.” You snapped, grinding your hips desperately to try to get any kind of relief.

His voice was in your ear; “Tell me when you’re about to cum.”

You nodding hastily, not realizing what you’d be agreeing to.

“Good choice…” He held your leg wide with one hand, fretting with your nipple with the other, and started thrusting into you from behind, your pussy choked down on his cock as he toyed with your body, his touch leaping through your nervous system like lightning.

Then the air was filled with the delicious sounds of you and Izuku being fucked. You struggled between closing your eyes to cope with the sensation of Shouto’s hands; each threatened to brand you or freeze you; and fixating on the increasing ferocity of Izuku and Katsuki’s entanglement.

You blinked, and Katsuki had one leg over his shoulder. You blinked again and he had both. Again, and Izuku’s hands were clasped around Katsuki’s neck, toes curling, fat, rolling tears cascading over freckled cheeks as he moaned wordlessly into the space between them, occasionally swallowed up by Katsuki’s lips.

Your cunt grew tight, your breathing ragged as you had fallen into a rhythm, fucking yourself on Shouto’s cock, succumbing to the heat almost scalding your thigh, the chill perforating the skin of your breast, you felt another orgasm rapidly approaching.

You chewed your lip, “Sho- Shouto..”

“Hah~ Yes Angel?”

“Mm- M’gonna- Ah~”

In an instant, Shouto slowed, dropping his arctic touch from your breast to your clit. He did not continue his ministrations, merely held his icy palm over your mound, halting your orgasm in its tracks.

“Shouto!~” You whimpered, one hand coming down to push futilely at his forearm.

“I’m sorry, Angel.. But I think that pleasure has been reserved.” He directed your attention back to Izuku and Katsuki.

“Kacchan!~ Kacchan!~” Katsuki’s familiar nickname fell from Izuku’s lips like a chant, Katsuki’s eyes flashed before throwing one final thrust, and cumming with a grunt, and a sadistic laugh as he stopped moving as well.

Izuku’s head fell back with a sob. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say..

“He hasn’t cum once since we started…” Shouto purred.

And you salivated.

Katsuki unsheathed himself, and stood, stumbling just a little, but strutting over effortlessly once he found his balance.

“I think he’s had enough, don’t you, Sho?”

“Yes, I think they’ve both learned a valuable lesson..” His teeth grazed your ear, showering a fresh wave of goosebumps over you.

“Then I say let them fix each other’s problems.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“And what about me, Tsuki?” Shouto pouted, tightening his arm over your waist, dick flexing inside you making you squirm, still sore from your ruined release; “I haven’t done anything wrong…”

“That so? I seem to remember things differently.”

“Wha-”

Katsuki’s fingers found your chin, and gently brought your face up to meet his, “I think Deku could use little help, Princess.. Think you could fix him for me?”

You nodded hesitantly, Shouto dropping your leg so you could crawl out of his lap and over to Izuku.

“No no..” Katsuki droned, “Stay where you are. I have plans for you, Icy Hot brat..”

You crawled on hands and knees to Izuku’s side, combing your nail through his hair, over his face, catching the few glittering tears that remained over his freckled cheeks with your thumb, before continuing down the column of his neck, flattening your palm against his chest before your tongue spilled from your lips and plunged into his mouth.

Your kiss seemed to bring him back to life, as he inhaled deeply, desperately through his nose, his hands curling themselves in your hair. He chewed your lips, sucked your tongue, maintained as much contact between your mouth and his until you had to pull away, a glistering strand of saliva connecting the two of you.

He was on you in an instant, reversing your positions so you hit the ground flat on your back, his lips on lips, your cheek, your chin, his velvet tongue painting long trails up the column of your neck and down your chest.

You craned your neck to see behind you. Though your perspective had them suspended from the ceiling, you saw Shouto, legs spread, eyes screwed shut as he fucked a rather bored looking Katsuki’s fist. You refocused on the verdette before you, endeavouring to devour you whole, planting your hands on either side of his face to pull him into another impassioned kiss.

Izuku boxed you in, densely muscled biceps on either side, scars laid out over his body like a road map over his heaving chest. He shoved his knee between your legs, and you ground your desperate cunt against his thigh thoughtlessly.

“Such a pretty girl.. So fucking pretty… and she’s all mine…” He babbled over you. He might have tried to tease you more, hold you down, make you beg, but by this point it would have been in vain, the way he was rutting his drooling, inflamed cock against your hip.

He was thick, and stretched you in all the right ways. You felt a wanton twinge in the pit of your stomach.

“Need you so fucking bad, Zuzu…Please..”

He roared into the crook of your neck, closed his teeth around it, surely leaving perforated bruises as a memento. He adjusted his aim, and crashed into you with abandon, chewing the inside of his cheek as your cunt took him so readily.

Your hands circled his neck, finding that familiar crook in his shoulders, your nails cutting stripes into his back, adding your own color to his canvas of scars.

“So good… so fucking good… Sweet Jesus, Izuku!~”

The praise fell on his ears and dropped straight to his cock. He pushed himself off the floor, and fucked you with slow, deep thrusts, watching your tits bound and jiggle with each collision. Your eyes rolled back, catching a short glimpse of a sweat sheened Shouto, tongue tasting his bottom lip, hips thrusting fruitlessly into air as Katsuki held his hand far away from his partner, that same sinister grin perking the corners of his mouth.

Your eyes fluttered closed to the sound of Shouto begging, “Tsuki, please!” before you wound your legs around Izuku’s hips.

“Gonna make me cum like that..” You whimpered into his ear.

He sat up, hands plastering themselves to your hips with brutal force as he pulled you onto him as hard as he pounded into you. The coil in your gut wound tight, the energy in your body reaching a fever pitch.

“God, fuck me like that!~” Your lips found their last mantra, which you cried out until you unravelled into white hot oblivion.

When you opened your eyes, you felt Izuku’s labored breathing against your neck after he caved in on top of you. You carded your fingers through his hair, and fussed idly with the curls as you tried to catch your own breath.

“Here, nerds..” You looked up to see Katsuki extending a water bottle to you while he finished chugging his own with his other hand.

You took it gratefully, nearly choking as you gulped it down while lying prostrate across the floor. Izuku protested your movement, clutching you closer to him while he nuzzled your neck sleepily.

“When you’re ready.. Well…” He glanced over at the man curled against you, “When he’s ready… Food’s done.”

“Oh shit!” You cursed, keeping your tone hushed so as not to startle Izuku, “Katsuki, I’m so sorry…”

He shrugged, “It’s cold soba.. What’s it gonna do, get colder?”

You chuckled, and asked “Where’s Sho?” before straining to look towards the couch to see a particularly contented Todoroki, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, cold soba in his lap.

You relaxed your neck, and let your own contentment wash over you as you buried your nose into veridian curls, and lost yourself in the scent of citrus and soap.

How’d you ever get so lucky?

[mc-lukanette]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

"Sass, scales rest."

Luka felt the de-transformation light wash over him as Sass emerged, hovering a small distance away. The battle had been easy enough, though Luka's face inadvertently implied otherwise.

The red of Ladybug's suit only reminded him of Marinette's situation - her “fate” - and he couldn't shake it no matter how hard he tried.

"Thanks for your help, Luka. I know I can always count on you," Ladybug said, holding her hand out with the tiny Miracle Box on it. She then paused, noting his expression, and questioned gently, "Is... everything okay?"

He straightened, his hand instinctively reaching for the bangle on his wrist. Stopping short, he hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Ladybug."

She took a step closer, holding the box to her chest as she replied, "Yes?"

"Can I... talk to Sass?" he asked, then clarified, "Alone, for a while?"

The brows of her mask rose, the concern in her face doubling. Her free hand reached for him, though didn't touch him directly. "Luka, really, is something wrong?"

Luka was glad that she trusted him not to run off with the miraculous at least. Still, he struggled to explain the issue; would she even understand it?

Sass floated in front of his face, eyeing him quietly, then turned to address Ladybug's question himself. "This is a matter between snakes."

She tilted her head in confusion, looking back-and-forth between the two like she was trying to piece together what that meant. When she couldn’t seem to find an answer, she gave in and nodded her head anyway. "Um, okay. It sounds serious. I hope nothing's wrong. I'll—uh—" She looked around, then pointed to a nearby alleyway. "—go recharge and meet you back here?"

Luka nodded, then followed after Sass as he flew in the opposite direction that Ladybug was going. They went into an alleyway of their own, Luka letting out a sigh as he leaned against the wall.

"What did you see?" Sass inquired, crossing his legs and placing his paws on his knees to show that he was offering his full attention.

Luka glanced up at him, frowned, then looked down at the snake bangle and fiddled with it. "My friend... Marinette—" He made eye contact, hoping he wouldn't have to explain himself further. "Do you know her?"

"Ah." Sass gave a hint of a smile, placing a paw to his chin in thought. "Multimouse."

Completely unsuprised and thus unphased by the notion that she'd been a hero, Luka murmured, "So you've seen it. T-the..." He raised his hand to his neck, his thumb and index finger indicating what had already been burned into his memory by then. When Sass didn't respond, Luka hurriedly added, "The red string."

Sass straightened at that. "She had the string... around her neck?"

Luka nodded, grimacing at the sentence. "You didn't see it?"

"I can sense the bonds, but I can't see them," Sass explained. He uncrossed his legs, floating down towards the snake bangle. Luka raised his forearm in response, keeping it level with his chest, and Sass placed his paws on the object, turning it into its transformed state. "The miraculous has more magic in it than simply giving a kwami's power to a holder. I've been sealed in that box for so long, and it's been a very long time since I could affect anyone's fate myself; it's usually just myself and my holder until they have to give up their miraculous."

Luka held still as Sass brought himself to rest on Luka's forearm, keeping his paws on the miraculous while rubbing it in thought. Tail wrapping around Luka's arm, Sass then continued, "But the magical bond the miraculous creates gives my holder power from being connected to me. You see fate because you can interact with the world around you."

"And... Marinette?" Luka urged. "Can I help her?"

Sass took his paws away from the miraculous, settling for lounging on his arms and staring up at Luka thoughtfully. "You said... her neck?"

Luka nodded urgently.

"Ah, she's a victim of the kind of fate no one would want," Sass observed neutrally, though Luka got the feeling that he was hiding concern from him. "Do you remember what I said about her luck?"

"You think that has something to do with this...?" Luka asked, gaping in disbelief. Marinette having terrible luck was bad enough, but this—

"It's possible." Sass pressed his cheek to Luka's skin, never breaking eye contact with him. "Or it could be that the universe has done this for the sake of the one on the other end."

"The other—" Luka felt a spike of irritation, his free hand tightening into a fist "You mean this is all for Adrien? What about her?"

Sass' expression soured at the mention of Adrien. "It's what destiny has already decided for her. It wants everything to happen in a certain way, punishing those it's against and favoring those it prefers."

"Against? Prefers?" Luka hissed, raising his voice at the implications. "So it's tripping Marinette - choking her - for its own sick games? Because Marinette is so talented and amazing that they—they—"

He looked away, idly searching the sky for specks of black and purple while forcing himself to calm down. Running a hand across his face, he took a deep breath through his nose and let it out through his mouth.

"Can I help her?" he repeated as he looked back at Sass. Gesturing desperately with his free hand, he begged, "There has to be a way, Sass, please."

"Snakes choose their own fate, and they have the power to change the fate of others," Sass reminded him, then paused for effect before continuing, "but they can't change everything. It depends on them, the person who has the fate, and what the snake is willing to do."

Luka opened his mouth, ready to say he'd do anything, but noticed that Sass seemed to have more to say. He at least got the feeling that Sass already knew anyway.

Sass offered an approving smile, confirming Luka's feeling, then gave him a brief once-over. Humming with intrigue, he met Luka's gaze with an evaluation of, "If it's you, I won't worry about her."

"Huh? What—"

"Luka?"

Ladybug came to stand at the entrance of the alleyway, backlit by the light behind her. She walked forward, biting her lip for a moment before saying, "Sorry, I was waiting but I got anxious—not that I thought you'd go anywhere, but—" She wrung her hands together, brows furrowed with concern. "—you were taking a while..."

Luka glanced at Sass for an acceptable response, but Sass didn't reply to her. Instead, he uncurled his tail from Luka's arm, floating up to be level with his face and giving him a reassuring nod. Luka wasn't exactly convinced of anything certain, but looking between Ladybug and Sass, he knew he couldn't delay things forever to ask every question he had.

He wasn't sure he wanted the answer to some of them anyway.

Closing his eyes, Luka gripped the miraculous and pulled it off, only opening his eyes again when Sass was back inside. Ladybug approached, a little awkward but nevertheless taking the miraculous from him and returning it to the little box. She then searched his eyes, unsure, but asked, "Was there something wrong with me giving you the miraculous? If it's a problem, I—"

"No," Luka said firmly, bringing one hand underneath hers and the other on the box on top. "It's not that. I'm grateful, if anything. It's..." He sighed. "...someone I'm worried about."

"Really?" She seemed hesitant to prod. "Who...?"

"...Marinette," he answered automatically, his hands dropping back to his side as he ducked his head. "She's going through a lot, and I—I just want to be there for her."

He missed the slight gape Ladybug gave, along with her blush. He was too busy staring at the ground, at a complete loss for what to do; Sass had given him answers, but not a lot of advice, and the idea of seeing that tightening string again tore him up inside.

He only became aware of Ladybug’s presence again when she stepped towards him and placed her hands on his cheeks, gently encouraging him to look at her. Blue eyes met blue as she whispered affectionately, "I'm sure she knows that, and I'd bet both of my earrings that she appreciates it. If you're even half of the person you are as a hero, she's lucky to have you."

Lucky. The word brought a sense of numbness with it, but there was something familiar about Ladybug that made him accept it for now, enough for his shoulders to relax as he was pulled back to reality.

He didn't have a plan, but he was a Couffaine, and he wasn't going to give up that easily; not when Marinette didn't give up on him either when his music had been stolen. She was worth all the support he could offer her and so much more.

[live-the-fangirl-life]

At Leaf You’re Cute

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Raking Leaves

“I was trying to rake leaves in the front yard but your dog just ran through all my piles and I want to be mad but you're both really cute.”

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Halloween Collection

1583 words

*******

“Fleetfoot, no!” A woman’s panicked voice shouted. “Stop!”

That was all the warning Rowan got before a small creature barreled through one of the large piles of leaves he’d just spent the last hour raking.

The sloping tower collapsed as leaves went flying in all directions. Rowan barely blinked, his vision clouded by the explosion of dried, maroon leaves before the fluffy, four-legged beast was dashing into the second pile.

“Fleetfoot! Come here!”

Rowan snapped out of his momentary shock and watched in horror as the happy puppy let out a bright woof as it escaped the ruins of the second pile and made a beeline for the third. He flung his rake to the side as he tried to catch up to the dog before it ruined yet another hour’s worth of work. Yet, even his long stride was no match for a determined, energetic puppy.

Rowan gaped as he slowly surveyed the damage. He had spent the morning enjoying the crisp, fall breeze as he raked the large expanse of his yard. It wasn’t his favorite task, but it needed to be done, so he grabbed his ear buds, turned on some music, and worked for the last three hours to rake up every stray leaf he could see.

And now it was as if he’d never even picked up his rake. The light breeze was spinning some of the leaves that had been tossed in the air by the force of the dog’s collision, and the yard that he’d gotten to look like a fresh, clean slate was now once again a blanket of red.

A figure rushed past him, straight for the dog who was still yipping and jumping around and trying to catch the leaves that were falling.

Rowan closed his eyes and took a long, steadying breath, trying his best to get his fraying temper under control. He could still hear the woman muttering something to her pet and the distinct sound of metal on metal, presumably her clipping the puppy’s leash on.

Her voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. And that name—Fleetfoot—why did he recognize that name?

His eyes flew open, and Rowan finally took a moment to look at who exactly was responsible for the destructive hellion.

The woman stood from her crouched position and dragged an agitated hand through her long golden hair. Double checking that the leash was secure, she turned toward Rowan with a face full of apology. Her bright blue eyes, now wide with remorse, glinted in the light that illuminated a faint ring of gold around her pupils that he hadn’t noticed before.

She opened her mouth, most likely to apologize, but Rowan spoke before she could.

“Aelin, right?” he asked, as if he hadn’t memorized her name that first time she’d introduced herself.

She had moved in down the block only a month ago. At first, he was annoyed at how she kept bossing the movers around, not that he had any right to an opinion, but it seemed too excessive and reeking of entitlement. But then he realized, through his definitely-not-creepy staring, that the movers were friends of hers, and her queen-like commands were being taken with eye rolls and requests for compensation in the form of pizza.

Two days later, she introduced herself when she caught him checking his mail. In one hand she’d had her dog’s leash and in the other she had been carrying bags filled with Halloween decorations and candy, claiming it was never too early in the season to get in the Halloween spirit.

That was when he’d gotten her name. Aelin. And Fleetfoot’s, of course.

Now, she nodded as her lips twitched upwards even as her eyes still looked worried. Somehow, she managed to get her puppy to stay by her side, but rather than sit attentively, it was wiggling on its back and pawing at the air excitedly.

“Yeah.” She confirmed. “And you’re Rowan.” it wasn’t a question.

He nodded and Aelin kept a firm grip on Fleetfoot’s leash as she glanced around at his yard and winced.

“I am so sorry,” Aelin told him with wide eyes before looking down at the oblivious puppy with a long-suffering sigh. “I just took her to the park, but she apparently has an endless supply of energy, and when I got back she jumped out of the car before I could get her leash on, and, well,” she looked at Rowan and winced again, “there’s no match for a puppy on a mission.”

Despite the mess around him, Rowan couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched the small, golden animal squirm in the leaves under her back until she was laying on her belly, looking up at Aelin with big eyes.

As much as he wanted to be upset, he couldn’t bring himself to feel angry. If it was anyone else, He probably would’ve yelled or cursed them out, or at the very least scowled menacingly and demand they get off his property. But as he looked at Aelin who looked genuinely sorry, standing in front of him with her hair blowing in the wind and a rich, red scarf wrapped around her, he didn’t want to tell her to get off his lawn—he wanted to find a reason to keep talking to her.

Her gaze turned questioning as he dragged a hand through his hair. “Look,” she said, taking a step closer, “give me a few minutes to go put this little beast inside and I can come back and rake up the leaves.”

The little beast was huffing through her nose and watching as the leaves in front of her fluttered in the air.

“It’s the least I could do.” Aelin went on, tugging her black jacket tighter around her.

Rowan found himself shaking his head. “You don’t have to do that.”

Aelin raised a brow. “Really? My dog comes flying into your yard, destroying what I can only imagine was a couple of hours’ worth of work and you’re telling me that I shouldn’t offer to clean it up?”

He huffed a laugh. “Okay, yeah, when you put it that way.”

Rowan crouched down and held out his hand near Fleetfoot’s nose, giving her a chance to sniff it. She immediately popped up and began licking his hand before launching herself at his chest. Rowan had to brace one hand behind him so he wouldn’t topple over from the sudden fuzzy attack. He could hear Aelin snort and try to hold in a laugh as Fleetfoot pawed at his chest and licked excitedly at his face.

When Fleetfoot finally ceased her slobbery attack, Rowan wiped a hand down his face and held the dog as she settled into his lap, gently petting her soft fur as he looked up at Aelin who watched the pair with a fond but amused expression.

“She likes you.” Aelin told him, smiling.

Rowan carefully set the dog down and matched Aelin’s smile as the puppy wove in between her feet.

“She’s probably just trying to use her cuteness to make me forget she destroyed my yard.” He teased, making sure there wasn’t much bite in the words.

Aelin smirked. “Maybe.” She dropped her eyes to roll over him from head to toe. “But I trust her judgement.”

Rowan told himself that the way he rolled his shoulders back and stood to his full height had nothing to do with the appreciative perusal she made of him.

She grinned. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to clean this up.”

She took all of one step before he reached out and gently touched her elbow, halting her. “Wait. No, I’m not going to sit inside and watch as you rake my yard.”

Aelin raised a single brow and smirked. “You were planning to watch?”

“No, that’s not,” he knew his cheeks were heating as he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean watch you, I meant—”

His embarrassed stammering was cut off as she laughed, and he couldn’t help but grin back.

“I know that’s not what you meant,” her smile was wicked. “But it was fun seeing you so flustered.”

He rolled his eyes but took another step closer. Aelin didn’t step back, simply raised her chin higher to keep looking him in the eye.

“How about this,” he suggested, enjoying the way a slight flush raised on her cheeks as he leaned in closer. “You help me rake the leaves.”

He could’ve sworn her eyes twinkled as she pretended to think bout it. “I suppose that would be fine.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

They stood there for another moment, seemingly unaware of the wind whistling through the branches or the crisp echo of leaves crunching. It almost felt like they couldn’t look away, or wouldn’t, until a high-pitched woof sounded from beside their feet.

It jolted them from whatever moment they were having and Aelin sighed as she leaned down to pick up the smiling puppy.

“You, little miss, are not getting any treats tonight.” She scolded, but quickly got pulled in by Fleetfoot’s adorable gaze. “Oh fine. But just one.”

Aelin began walking back towards her house but paused to look over her shoulder at him and smiled. “I’ll be back in a minute, Rowan.”

He grinned at hearing his name roll off her tongue. “I’ll be waiting, Aelin.”

Rowan smiled as he heard Fleetfoot’s light barking all the way back to Aelin’s house.

*****

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[heyitsjay03]

I saw request we’re open for RE8. Could I please have a fem! reader who tries to get rid of Ethan Winters because he keeps causing distress to her wife, Alcina? Please and thank you.

yes. yes you most certainly can have this.

i have been DYING to write about some alcina x fem!reader for the sole reason being that i have NEVER questioned my sexuality so hard since this damn game came out so yeah.

ps: wrote this in first person hope that's okay!

pps: there is some major plot deviation because.... i felt like it. idk. it fit??

DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own Resident Evil or its characters or plot. CAPCOM please don't come for me.

here you go love >:)

word count: 1.57k

"Girls!" I call, closing the door behind me. "My darlings, I'm home!" Shifting the grip on the parcel of items from the village, I look around.

Usually one of the girls would've answered by now. Bela is usually here to greet me.

She's probably with her mother.

I shrug off my fur coat, handing it to one of the maids. She takes it and lays it over the back of a chair. I can tell by the large, gnarled scar on her forearm who she is "Marienna," I mumble, staring up the stairway. "...where're the girls?"

Marienna's face pales as she stares back at me. Her mouth opens and closes like a trout. "Well?" I snap, "D'you know where they are or-?!"

A crash resounds down the hallway. Alcina's voice tears from her bedroom, followed by a shuddering sob.

I'm hurrying up the stairs in seconds, abandoning the parcel. My body collides with the door- forcing it open.

Our bedroom is destroyed- the vanity broken to pieces. Alcina's soft hands cling to the golden wood, thumb rubbing against the varnish. Slowly, her eyes trail up to me. A smile nearly as broken as the vanity crosses her painted lips. "...I loved this damned mirror," she mumbles, eyes turning down to the broken pieces again.

"What happened, darling?" I coo, stepping over the pieces to stand beside her. My hand on her shoulder, I turn her face gently towards mine. Tears are streaming down her face- leaving jagged streaks of mascara. "Are you alright? What happen-"

Alcina's body tenses under my touch. Trembling, her grip tightens on the wood. It cracks before being wrenching in twain in her hands. "It was that stupid manthing!" She hisses, standing back up to her full height.

"...what 'manthing'?" I ask, "Your brother?"

Alcina ignores me, leaning back down to pluck one of the larger fragments before throwing it across the room. "He laid his filthy paws on our daughters!"

My mind races as it struggles to understand what the hell is happening.

Manthing.

It's not Heisenberg. He'd never lay a finger on the girls.

Some brutish village slug- that's got to be it.

But why? Why on earth would they...?

It doesn't matter.

As Alcina leans down to grab another bit, I grab her hand. "...are... are the girls okay? Where are they?"

A shuddering sigh passes her lips. "...they're all together," she whispers, wiping tears from her face hastily. "Bela... she was... that disgusting beast, he nearly killed her!"

"What?" I mutter, eyebrows drawing together as I step back. "...what... well is she okay? What happened? Is she going to be alright?!"

Alcina sighs again. "...she'll be alright," her hand wraps around mine gently. "Her sisters found her. Brought her to me."

"Where is she now?," I ask, tightening my grip around her finger. "My baby girl... where...?"

Alcina smiles warmly, getting down onto one knee. Her fingers brush back the hair from my eyes. Tears fall quickly down my face as I realize what could've happened if Cassandra and Daniela weren't nearby. "She's with her sisters," she answers gently. "Resting... waiting for her mother to get back with the flowers and silk from the village."

A cold laugh passes my lips before I sniffle. "...her mother should've been there. Should've never left."

Alcina's face tightens. "You can't blame yourself, darling," she mumbles, turning my chin up so I can face her. "No one knew this... Ethan Winters... would be so hideously vindictive."

I nod slowly, wiping the tears from my face. "...can I see her?"

"Of course, my love," she says, leaning in to press her lips to my cheek. "Of course."

The two of us walk down the halls to the center of the house. 'Safest place for her' Alcina had told me.

She had spoken to me the entire way over here, trying to get me out of my own head.

Bless my beloved wife for trying.

But that name. It just keeps buzzing around my mind.

Images of my hands, covered in thick blood, gripping the handle of a sickle play through my head. The blade going through the jugular of this 'Ethan Winters' and popping out the other side. Him desperate for air, choking on his own hot blood, as he watches me loom over him.

His last words will be for mercy.

His last view will be my blade.

My breath is bated as I watch him stalk through the darkness of the courtyard. In the moonlight, I can see is head is down, eyes wary as he keeps a fair grip on his pistol. The cool air lets me see him regulating his breathing- keeping him steady, keeping his pistol steady.

He's experienced.

My grip on my own weapon tightens as he stops in the gazebo. His eyes narrow as he turns around, his pistol raised. I watch in mild amusement as he whirls around, looking for something to shoot.

He's experienced, yes, but still not experienced enough.

I tug the fabric around my face higher along the bridge of my nose. Gripping my sickle, I balance on the balls of my feet.

Ethan finally relaxes, dropping his arms with his back to me.

A small smile creeps along my lips under the mask. A foolish move made by an even more foolish man.

My body slides underneath the stone railings for the stairs leading into the center of the courtyard. Untucking one of the smaller knives from my belt, I pinch it between two fingers and flick my wrist forward.

The knife goes flying- landing right between Ethan's shoulder blades. A guttural yell comes from him as he spins around to face me. In a blink, I'm up in front of him, nose brushing against his.

I can see the fear in his eyes.

I can't help my smile growing beneath the dark fabric.

Ethan raises his hand, pistol in his palm. With a tut of my lips, I shake my head and stab his hand through with my sickle. "...no, no," I mumble as he continues to scream and thrash against my hold. "There'll be none of that, I'm afraid, Mister Winters."

His teeth gritted, he hisses as my sickle is pulled from the inner part of his wrist. A bitter laugh bubbles up from my gut as he stumbles back onto the floor of the gazebo, now holding the pistol in his shaky left hand. "You can't be serious!" I giggle as Ethan pulls the trigger.

A wet squelch hits my ears as the bullet tears into my stomach. I sigh dramatically, looking down at the gushing hole in my dress. "You didn't think I was human- did you?" I ask, twirling the sickle in my hand.

"Wh- what?" Ethan mutters, eyes fixated on the bullet wound in my torso.

"I'm not," I continue, stepping closer to him as he tries to back away. Another gunshot echoes through the courtyard- the bullet landing in my left shoulder. "Not entirely, anyways."

"What the hell are you?!" Ethan yells, firing three more shots. One in the crook of my neck, one just barely grazing my temple, one lodging itself in my hip.

My jaw tightens as I hurry forward, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him back into the center of the gazebo. "I!" I snap, grabbing him again and gripping his wrist. "I... am the mother of the girl you almost killed!"

I pull another knife out of my belt. Trailing it down his lips, I smile. "And the wife... to a woman scorned." With a single swing, the knife digs into the flesh of his palm and nails it to the gazebo.

Ethan yells in pain. As I step back, his other fist cracks across my face. I stumble back. Grabbing at my cheek, I chuckle darkly. "Oh, Ethan," I coo coyly, grabbing my sickle. "You really shouldn't have done that."

I swing and watch with what could only be described as 'glee' as the blade pierces his throat. Covered in blood, the blade glistens crimson in the pale moonlight. Ethan's choked pleas are drowned out by my laughter.

"Why?" is the only word able to leave his lips without being smothered in a gush of blood.

"Because, Mister Winters," I hum, my nose brushing against his as I watch the life in his eyes flicker. "You should never have touched my family."

BONUS ENDING:

"What is that delicious smell?"

I turn around to see Alcina bending down to peek outside. A smile crosses my lips as I gesture to the mutilated corpse with the end of my sickle. "Dinner, my love," I hum, wiping off the blade with the fabric I had used for a mask. "Sorry it's not the cleanest."

Alcina scoffs and waves me off. "It's fine, _________. I'll just go let the girls know their mother brought dinner...," she pauses, eyes flicking over the gushing body. "...who was that? He smells... familiar."

"Just Ethan Winters," I answer nonchalantly.

"...y-you..." Alcina stammers, eyebrows weaving together and lips pursing. "You... when did you-?"

"He must've been tired," I continue with a small smile. "He was not nearly as difficult a kill as I thought he'd be."

"...I'll... I'll be going now."

"Okay, love," I chirp, "I'll drag him in in a second. Love you!"

Alcina's eyes are still wide, mouth slightly agape as she steps away from the doorway. "...love you too... darling."

can you tell i had a lot of fun with this?

yeah. because i did.

i hope you enjoyed! writing lady d is so much freaking fun i kid you not.

big vampy lady make brain go brr

[for-fucks-sake-h]

At My Weakest - one

rated: m, mature | word count: 3.2k | story page  

...tangled up in heartbeats and bite marks and body heat. 

   - butterflies rising 

When Gianna was young, she used to have elaborate daydreams of what her life would look like in the future.  Where would she live? What would she be doing? She thought about it in the way that a lot of kids wish away their youth, wanting to be independent and take care of herself, not have her parents constantly on her case telling her what to do. She worked hard through school, was a straight A student, followed the rules, graduated at the top of her class, had a good job, had her shit together.  

Seemingly, her life looked pretty good from the outside.  But that was the thing about looking from the outside in. You never truly know what goes on behind closed doors.  

She slammed the door so hard the walls shuddered, the trim cracking the tiniest bit around the framing. Fuck, she wished she could slam it harder. Take out all her aggressions and just slam it, over and over and over again.  

She didn’t though. She took off towards her car instead, the sound of her name being called a distant echo as her heart hammered in her chest. Her blood was boiling, her hand shaking as she reached for the chrome door handle so that she could lock herself inside. Her breathing was erratic, her chest rising and falling harshly as she pressed her head back against the leather headrest.  Her throat burned with emotion as her pulse beat wildly, the threat of tears ready and waiting at her lash line.  Deep breaths; one, two, three.  Not without slamming her palm down on the top steering wheel in frustration; one, two, three.  

She released one more deep exhale, her body practically sinking into the seat with it.  She couldn’t help but glance at herself in the rearview mirror, her eyes noticeably dark and soulless.  

How did she get here?  

That was the question running through her mind as she reversed out of the parking spot, as she drove down the highway, as she circled around her town in an attempt to clear her head. She wasn’t even sure how she ended up at Gemma’s, but all of a sudden she was parked outside her building.  

It only took one buzz and a soft “it’s me” into the intercom for the latch to open.   

“Hiya babe, you okay?”  The concern was written all over her friend's face, a telltale sign that Gianna looked even worse for wear than she thought.  

“Is it okay if I stay here for a bit?”  

It wasn’t even a question, Gianna knew that. She’d known Gemma nearly her whole life. They grew up across the street from each other, Gemma’s family moving for her mum’s job. One bike accident and two scraped knees when they were six made them inseparable. Their families became so close that they even started vacationing together. They all got older, but it never changed.    

Gemma nodded, not pressing the issue. “Come on, I’ll make you coffee.”  

That was all Gianna needed, just the comfort from someone who truly knew her. She thought Steve knew her. Shit, she thought she knew him too. They had plans - nothing concrete, but talked about enough that Gianna felt like the rug had been pulled out from under her. She could feel the ache of it in her chest with every breath, and it was excruciating.  

“What am I gonna do?” Gianna asked after a while, two coffees and a half a box of pound cake later.  

“I don’t think you need to figure that out just yet, babe.”  Gemma’s tone was soft, gentle - comfort was something that came naturally to her.  

“All my stuff is there. I don’t even want to look at him,” Gianna shook her head with a frown, eyes cast down to her half empty mug.  

“I’ll have Harry call him,” Gemma devised. “We’ll figure out a time for you to go over when he isn’t there for you to collect your shit.”    

A frustrated growl came from the back of Gianna’s throat as she looked up to the ceiling. “What about tomorrow? How am I supposed to tell my parents?”

Gianna desperately didn’t want to go through this.  They were not engaged, but they might have well been.  Five years was a long time to be with someone just to have things not work out. Their lives were so intertwined, her parents loved him, Gianna knew her mum was counting down until she could start wedding planning. Fuck, Gianna was ready to start wedding planning. She was ready for the next step in her life, a family of her own. She wanted it with Steve. And poof, all that was gone in the blink of an eye.  

“G,” Gemma sighed, a sympathetic look on her face. “Tell them when you’re ready. You don’t owe anything to anyone except yourself.”  

Gianna didn’t say anything else. What more could she say? She didn’t even want to acknowledge that this was her new reality. Years of being in a perfectly content bubble popped so quickly it made her head spin.  So she nodded as she toyed with the handle of her mug.  

“Come on,” Gemma nodded towards the hallway. “You wanna change into some sweats?”  

It didn’t even register that she was still dressed in her work attire, which was a feat in and of itself since she usually changed as soon as she got home. Her “home” closing in on her seemed to be enough of a distraction to the now overly prominent tightness of her skirt cinching into her waist.

So Gianna followed Gemma into her room at the end of the hall, and exhaled a sigh of relief as she unzipped the mid length silk skirt that made her feel pretty and complimented her skin tone. The sheer, black dress shirt that she had tucked into it fell away from her skin once the skirt loosened, and she was quick to tug on the joggers and exceptionally soft lavender sweater that Gemma left on her bed for her.  It smelled like vanilla and detergent, and somehow that gave Gianna just enough comfort to not stay in Gemma’s bed for the foreseeable future.  

It wasn’t until later that evening, with a pitch black sky above her and the cool September air biting at her cheeks as she sat on the rooftop that it really started to feel like everything around her was crumbling. She didn’t let herself cry until then - until she knew she was alone and could let it out without an audience.  She hated crying in front of people, and as much as she loved Gemma, she just didn’t have the energy to let herself go there. But now? Now, it was coming full force whether she wanted it or not.    

The sound of the metal storm door opening startled Gianna enough to make her jump, her sweater paw immediately going to her face to cover the tear that had just fallen.  

She peaked over her shoulder after a moment only to find Harry pouting in the doorway, seemingly deciding if he should trudge forward or not. Gianna turned away from him, back toward the city lights as she pulled the bottom of her sweater down over her knees. She wrapped her hands in the sleeves even more as the wind blew a strip of hair across her face, and let her head fall to peer down at her knees when she heard the door slam closed.

The silence was deafening as he appeared at her side, moving to sit next to her on the picnic table situated at the corner of the roof.  His ripped jean clad knee knocked against hers once he was seated on the table top, the side of his boot pressing against her socked foot where it rested on the bench seat, his palm finding its way to her shoulder blade.

Gianna leaned into him as her chin wobbled. Soothing circles were rubbed into her back, but the gesture only expedited the tear from slipping down her cheek. 

“Gems told me. ‘M sorry, love.” His voice was gentle despite the deep timbre of it vibrating near her ear as he pressed his jaw against the top of her head.  

It felt like too much time had passed before Gianna spoke up, her voice low and broken. “How do you just… fall out of love with someone?”  

Harry shook his head against her temple, his arm wrapping around her to pull her closer into his side - an attempt to shield her from the onslaught of disappointment coursing through her veins.    

“I don’t know, G.”  

She sighed heavily. “I was supposed to marry him, and he just... broke up with me. Like it was nothing.”  

“Did he say anything?”  

Gianna pulled away from Harry’s side, wiping the sleeves of her sweater under her eyes in an attempt to collect herself.  “Said he ‘couldn’t do this anymore’, whatever the fuck that means.”  

Harry released a deep breath as he shook his head in disgust. For as long as Gianna and Gemma had been friends, Gianna and Harry were friends too. They weren’t super close, not the way the girls were, but they were friends nonetheless, and he hated seeing her hurt like that.

“Makes me think he didn’t love me at all,” Gianna continued. “How did I not see that?”

“If that’s true, he fooled all of us, love.”

Gianna didn’t say anything for a bit, just looked up to the dark sky as tears burned at her lower lash line. Harry stayed quiet as he watched her with a deep crease etched between his brows.

“I feel so fucking worthless,” she whispered eventually, her voice so solemn it ripped right through him.

“Hey,” he practically called, but she didn’t look at him. “You are not worthless.” Gianna shook her head, disagreeing. “Gianna. Stop it.” Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “His fucking loss. If he doesn’t know a good thing when he has it, fuck him.”  

“It’s not that simple.” Gianna leaned into his side once more, finding comfort in the way his fingers gripped her shoulder.

He hummed as he squeezed her shoulder once more. “It is. You’re too good for him anyway.”  

Gianna snorted a soft laugh as she shook her head with a gentle jab of her elbow into his side. “Easy for you to say.”    

“‘M serious. Way out of his league. In every sense.”    

Harry gave the compliment with as much ease as he would with a stranger at a bar in the hopes of taking them home at the end of the night. He was charming that way, a smug sort of confidence wafting around him without any actual effort on his part.

Gianna wasn’t sure why, or how, but the compliment gave her just enough of a boost of confidence to make her feel a bit better.  

Maybe Harry was right. Hell, maybe he was right about everything he’s been saying over the years. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in a serious relationship. He avoided the mess. He avoided the drama. For as long as Gianna had busted his chops for it, maybe he knew something she didn’t all along.  

“You look like you’re thinking too much,” Harry commented when Gianna went quiet in her thoughts.  

“No, I don’t know. Maybe you’re right.”

“Course I am,” he nodded surely. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”  

She gave him a pointed look, which simply received a chuckle in response and nothing else.  They both went quiet as they looked out over the city.  Despite it being the middle of the night, it still seemed alive with the buildings roof top lights spreading out in the distance.  

If there was one thing Gianna knew after the day she had, it was that she hated feeling the way she did. It had been a while since she felt so down on herself, let alone being let down by someone who she thought she could count on… forever.  It put a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she hated it.    

Harry spoke up after a while, the tone of his voice just enough of a tease to make Gianna’s skin prickle. “You know what they say, G.”  

“What’s that?” she turned to him, watching as he kept his eyes focused on the city ahead of him.  

“The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”  

She held her breath without even realizing she was doing it, before slowly exhaling as she watched Harry turn ever so slowly to catch her eyes. She literally couldn’t help it, her reaction was immediate, the most subtle tingle crawling across her skin.

They teased and joked with each other plenty over the years. But somehow, in some way, Harry’s words felt different.  The way he was looking at her felt different. Like he was dying to see her reaction but refusing to give in. His eyes were dark on the dimly lit roof, but completely focused on her.  

Harry didn’t dare move, just stared back into her curious brown eyes, his mouth forming around the words faster than his brain could catch us. “Sounds to me like you just need a distraction.”  

“Are you offering?” Gianna’s response was so quick it made a shudder fall down Harry’s back.  And although Harry’s face was completely at ease, his eyes were fixated on the curve of her Cupid’s bow.  

Harry’s eyes flicked up to meet hers. “Do you want me to be?”

That was enough to have Gianna’s body lean in on its own accord, her mouth catching his in a slow lingering kiss.

He tasted like the faintest bit of tequila and whatever his choice of spearmint gum was that evening, and it was intoxicating. His lips were soft but reacted immediately, suctioning to her bottom lip in an attempt to keep her there.

Just as quickly as it happened, Gianna was pulling away, the sound of their lips parting reverberating off of thin air.

She closed her eyes and turned back towards the city. “I’m sorry I don’t know what—”

But just as quickly, Harry’s hand reached for her jaw to pull her back to him, immediately interrupting her apology in favor of slanting their lips together once more.

This time, his fingers gently cupped her jaw as his mouth reeled her in further. It was like a knee jerk reaction, or when you haven’t had your favorite chocolate for a while and then can’t get enough of it.

He couldn’t get enough of her.

Gianna’s hand gripped his wrist, her mouth melting into his, head fuzzy and buzzing. And when Harry’s tongue teased, she found her own mouth opening more to let him in.

God, she welcomed him in, her tongue smoothing over his in a way that pulled the most toe curling chill up her spine. The kind that makes your skin erupt in goosebumps and your belly twist with something; need, desire, lust. Whatever it was, it had Gianna’s cheeks warming and her back arching closer to Harry.

And Harry, he was so far gone he felt like his head might explode. She was so warm, and she curved into him perfectly when he wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer, fingers still clenched softly at her neck to keep her still. The softness of her breasts against his chest was enough to light a fire in his stomach, desperate to be as close to her as physically possible. The flesh of her hip was pliant under his palm, fingers digging into her skin, subconsciously not wanting her to slip away. But maybe not so subconsciously after all.

His lips smoothed down her chin and across her jaw, nipping softly as a breathy moan slipped past Gianna’s lips. The sound had Harry sucking eagerly into the warm skin of her neck, kiss after sucking kiss being planted upon her soft skin. He could feel her pulse thrumming against his mouth, his own heart beat matching methodically.

“God, what are we doing?” Gianna whispered up into the open sky as her hands squeezed his shoulders.

Harry pulled away from her neck just then to check her face. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No,” she breathed, her mouth finding his waiting lips with a hum.

He kissed her hard, his mouth so insistent on sucking and pulling on her lips that Gianna felt like he was taking her breath with him. His mouth was soft exactly the way it should be, but strong all in the same. Demanding, urgent, salacious. Kissing him was almost too enjoyable.

Gianna’s hand smoothed down the strong expanse of Harry’s shoulder, nails scratching against the hard muscle beneath the soft skin of his bicep. The goosebumps there could have been attributed to the cool evening air, but Gianna knew better.

Especially when her fingers trailed the rest of the way down his side and across the top of his thigh, her palm resting on the center seam of his jeans.

Her eyes were closed despite her head tilting down, pulling her lips from his as their foreheads met softly.

“You’re hard.”  Her words were just above a whisper. It was obvious, but she couldn’t help commenting on it. She could feel the firmness of his cock beneath his jeans, hot and full against her palm.

“You made me hard,” he leaned in to kiss her cheek gently. “You’re so fucking sexy. And beautiful. Y’smell like heaven. Fuck.” His words traveled down her neck, his mouth finding the edge of her sweater to suck a new kiss on a new piece of skin. He wanted to uncover every piece of skin to leave traces of his mouth on.

“It’s my perfume.” Gianna’s rebuttal was soft as she tilted her head back to grant him more space; more skin for him to suck tiny kisses into.

She palmed him over his jeans, the twitch of his hard length making her swallow thickly with desire.

“Think it’s just you,” Harry commented wistfully.

Gianna’s fingers toyed with the button of his jeans, his zipper lowering ever so slowly as Harry’s tongue smoothed over her skin before sucking gently.

“Is this okay?” she asked softly as her hand smoothed into his snug jeans, feeling the hardness of his length over his briefs.

His head tilted back with a soft moan while his fingers squeezed her waist tighter, as if her gentle touch was too much for him.

“You tell me,” he breathed as his cock twitched against her palm, his body begging for more from her. “Are you okay?”

That was the age old question, wasn’t it? Was she okay?

Gianna wasn’t sure. She knew she would be, eventually at least. But in that moment, all she knew was that Harry made her... feel. For as long as she’d been numb, he was making her feel alive in that moment. And he made her forget, and that was what she wanted.

“We don’t have to—” Harry began, but was quickly cut off by Gianna pushing forward to press her lips to his jaw, her tongue smooth out over the sharp indent before her lips sucked softly.

His moan was addictive. The firmness of his length was impressive to say the least. His hands felt like molten lava where he gripped her waist. And Gianna’s skin burned with intrigue.

“Let’s go to your room.”

A/N: Ha! Can you believe we’re doing this again??? After I said no more series for a while?? Well, here we are... I really hope you liked it! Lots of people to thank for helping me get my ass in gear - so huge thank you to @oh-honey-styles @andwhenshesays @real-work-of-art​ @harrytheehottie​ @all-things-fic​ @haute-romance-quotidienne​ for all the hand holding and support and hyping and encouragement and just being overall wonderful humans... you guys have my heart, seriously. And if you’ve read this far - thank you! I would love to hear your thoughts! Lots more to come xx 

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[sunnysviolin]

Omotober Day One- White Space

You can also read it here. This is a continuation of Omori Continues

“Behind that door lives the small child that is the real you. The small child who hurts too much and feels too much and laughs too loud and always believes... true love involves unlocking the many padlocks on that door, taking him by the hand, and guiding him- Joybell C.

“We may never know exactly when or how this began, but if we acknowledge this little one, he will somehow know that we are listening to him.”- Bonnie Badenoch

Omori existed, and then he didn’t.

Sunny had held him, and he had closed his eyes. He stopped existing when he closed his eyes, but that was normal. He didn’t exist a lot of the time, only when Sunny closed his eyes.

Except nowadays when Sunny closed his eyes, Omori still didn’t exist. There was no lightbulb, no door, no neighbor’s room, no headspace. It was just Omori, not existing, but still there. He didn’t know where “there” was, but that was where Omori was now.

In “There”, he had lots of time to think, so Omori thought. He thought about his friends, and he wondered if they were still waiting for him in their technicolor tree house. He thought about Mari and her picnic blankets, about her gentle smiles and cheerful attempts to help him. Omori thought about a lot of things, but the thing he thought about most was Sunny.

Sunny had hugged him, but that wasn’t normal. Omori was used to hugs from his friends, tight squeezes from Basil (almost too tight sometimes) and side grabs from Kel. Omori thought he knew how hugs felt. They were nice, but flat. It was like looking at a picture of a delicious food. It was delectable, desirable even, but underneath that initial thought, there was no substance. It was just something that happened to him.

But hugging Sunny felt, for lack of a better word, like something...more.

Omori didn’t really like Sunny. He spent most of his time trying and succeeding in forgetting that Sunny even existed. Sunny had created him, but Sunny was bad. Omori was supposed to be the good parts of himself that Sunny hid away, because Sunny knew he couldn’t be trusted around good things without hurting them.

Omori wasn’t Sunny, Sunny was a monster, but he knew that he was Sunny’s creation just like everything in headspace was. Did that make him Sunny? Did that make him a monster too? It was easier to just try to stab the older boy than try to wrap his head around all of that. But then Sunny made him feel more.

Omori had never really felt more before, only certain little moments of it during the worst parts of his existence. When he went past just scared, past AFRAID and into STRESSED OUT. When he went past his normal limits and became not quite Omori and not quite Sunny either. He had thought that anything more than what he was had to be bad, because the only time he was more than Omori was when he was hurt or scared. That was why they were all in headspace, wasn’t it? A safe place to lock all the darkness out and only leave the good?

But Sunny’s hug had been more, and Sunny was more, and he had made Omori feel warm for the very first time since he had woken up in White Space on that night.

Omori didn’t know what to make of it, how to try and rebalance what he thought he had known with what he knew now. In the “There” that he was still existing in he tried to find a way that it all made sense, but he couldn’t. There was no reconciling Sunny the Monster with Sunny the Boy. Could they both exist? Then what did that make Omori?

He was There, and There was nothing.

Then There was White Space.

Usually right before he opened his eyes, Omori always had the same two thoughts. Welcome to White Space. You have been living here for as long as you can remember. This time he didn’t think of a thing. One minute he existed “there” and the next he was back in White Space.

Mewo slumbered in the corner of the white rug, and his laptop began the process of booting back up all on its own. He had his box of tissues, full now instead of almost empty, and-

His sketchbook. It was new. Omori could tell you every exact detail of the things in White Space down to a tee. He could tell you where the dents were on his laptop, the exact spot where Mewo loved to be scratched under her chin, even the number of tissues that perpetually existed in his box.

His sketchbook was supposed to be dirty and beaten up, the paper was supposed to be crinkled at the edges. It was a sketchbook filled with drawings that scared him, drawings he knew that he had done, but also had no memory of ever doing. They were only the surface drawings, and Omori was frightened by them because he knew what lay underneath.

This sketchbook was sleek, black leather with crisp white pages, his name embossed in gold on the cover. Next to it sat an open pencil box, clear plastic blue filled to the brim with sharp colored pencils. Omori stood up from where he had been sitting on the blanket, and walked over. He kneeled by the new items and picked up the box, inspecting its contents.

He had never had blue before, or green or purple. A full glossy rainbow of options was peering out at him, waiting to be used. Omori shut the box, the box clasping shut with a neat snap that echoed into the white. Omori jumped at the sound, startled. The only sounds he ever heard in here was Mewo, the knife falling, or his laptop booting up. He opened and shut the box a few more times, just to hear the new sound again. Then he put it down and picked up the other new item.

The sketchbook was heavier than his other one. He ran a finger along the letters of his name, the gold glinting and soft to the touch. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to open it, it was so beautiful the way it was. Seeing the drawings inside would ruin it.

Omori didn’t want to see them, to have to look at Sunny’s nightmares, or the fragments of Black Space he could never fully purge from his mind. Maybe he didn’t have to look, he could just keep the book sitting here on his thighs until Sunny awoke again and took him back to the There.

A familiar sound came from behind him, and then Mewo was brushing against his leg, sitting in front of him and pawing at the book. Omori raised a hand and pet between her ears, giving one long stroke down her back the way she liked and then a small scratch under the chin. She purred and then gave another soft meow, asking him her standard question.

Waiting for something to happen?

Omori hummed and gave Mewo another long stroke, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for what was to come. He closed his eyes when he flipped the cover of the book open, feeling on the page with his fingers. On his old book he could feel the shape of the pencil marks, the harsh jagged lines of black and red that marred his memories. He couldn’t feel anything. There was nothing under his fingers but paper. Omori opened his eyes.

The page was blank. He flipped through the pages, his pace slow but gathering pace as it went. Finally he reached the other cover, white turning to black. The entire book was blank. Was it...for him? How did it exist?

Did Sunny make it for him?

Sunny had never made him anything before. Sunny had just created the things he wanted, or chosen to protect the things he didn’t want to ruin. Sunny had never made anything just for Omori before. Mewo made a soft noise and picked herself back up, going to his side again and lying down against him, her neck stretching so her little head was in his lap alongside the book.

Omori was frozen, his mind swirling and racing. This had never happened before, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He was so used to the monotony of headspace, of repeating the same journey over and over. It all always happened the same way, it had a formula.

The formula had never been interested in his happiness before. He had just assumed Sunny couldn’t care less.

Eventually his legs started to cramp up, and Omori changed positions, lying on his stomach with the sketchbook sitting between his arms as he stared at it. Mewo wasn’t happy about this change, but she took advantage of it and jumped onto his back, kneading his muscles with her paws until she was satisfied and then lying back down. Once she was settled, Omori decided to gather his courage and test it.

Slowly he reached towards the blue plastic of the pencil box, not taking his gaze off the sketchbook. He kept his eyes glued to the page, expecting at any second for the white to vanish and for the horrors of before to replace it.

But they didn’t. Not even when he opened the box and took out the deep purple pencil and put it against the paper. The first stroke was just that, only a stroke. It wasn’t a picture, it wasn’t even an idea. It was just a stripe of purple on white. He stared at it and waited, but nothing changed. Mewo continued to sleep, the pencils sat in the box, and the purple stayed.

With constant pauses of hesitation, Omori flipped to the next page and started to doodle, switching pencil as he pleased. He ignored the red and black, but every other color was up for grabs. Soon enough he had a scene of the playground with all of his friends, Mari’s picnic blanket checkered with blue instead. Once he was done with that, something unexpected happened.

A blinding joy struck Omori, starting at his center and spreading up to his head. He was smiling, nearly giddy as he looked down at his drawing. It wasn’t like being MANIC, it wasn’t an overwhelming emotion that clouded everything around him and left him vulnerable. It was just happiness, clear in his mind and wiping away the fears that left him guarded. He flipped to the next blank page and dove into another drawing, fingers working at a rapid pace to make the next one.

He wasn’t sure how long he had spent drawing, time was always funny in White Space, but eventually his attention was coaxed away from his drawing and to something else new on his blanket.

It was a tiny plastic ball with circles cut out of it, inside he could see something golden. Mewo awoke when he shifted, and she let out a soft trilling noise, hoping down from her spot on his back and towards the ball. She sniffed it and batted it with a paw, a soft tinkling noise filling the air around him. Mewo was entranced, her pupils growing big and black as she pushed the ball again to hear the bell and her tail swung back and forth.

Omori watched her play for a while, and then he turned back to his book to draw what he saw. The sound of her ball rolling around in the background filled the empty air, and the JOY was joined by happiness for Mewo that she also had a new gift to enjoy.

Things began to appear in this fashion. Time passed in the too slow too fast way it always did, and new things would show up. His new sketchbook filled up quickly, and the moment it did there was another next to it. Omori was afraid at first that his drawings would disappear, but both books stayed side by side.

Soon enough he had a shelf too to put his completed books on, and his colored pencils were joined with markers. A blanket appeared, smaller than the one he was sitting on, but infinitely more luxurious. It was a rich blue with tiny white dots that looked like stars. Mewo enjoyed this gift just as much as he did, and she spent her time either dozing on its soft surface or playing with her small collection of new toys, the tiny bell ball continuing to be her favorite.

Omori liked all of the new additions to White Space, but if he had to choose a favorite, it would be his new light. The dark bulb that had hung above him was gone, the Black Space within it no longer hidden, but eradicated for good. In its place, Omori had a string of twinkling sea angels, hanging on nothing but the air. They swam above him when he lied down under the blankets with Mewo, swaying in an invisible breeze.

The more things were added, the more Omori felt. These were things with color, with sound and feeling. Things that made him feel more. White Space was no longer just where he existed. Now it felt...more like home.

[allforyoumylovely]

emma, hiii. you're taking requests, like that's the best thing ever hihi. idk why but I've had this image in my head of sander resting against robbe's chest as he robbe reads to him, while he runs a hand through sander's hair. maybe sander is coming out of a bad episode or maybe they're just relaxing on a sunday, but yeah.... maybe something like that hihi. much love to you emma <333

Cille, this was an absolute dream prompt for me, my gosh 💘 📖  I went off on a few tangents but hopefully that’s okay sfhjg. Walk, shower, read. It’s their little routine 🧡  Thank you for sending me this. Love you! Btw let me know if I should upload these on ao3 or if they should just be little tumblr exclusives?

Sander always knows when he’s fading away, when he’s turning into a shell of himself. But he never knows when he’s going to fall asleep at the wheel. Until it’s too late, until he crashes. And that’s when he loses all sense of who he is, of what he enjoys or how he likes to dress or what his voice normally sounds like. Sometimes the only indication of time passing is his alarms that tell him to take his meds and eat at set times.

Although he doesn’t reach the point anymore where he wants to be physically erased – he knows that this seemingly perpetual state of sadness isn’t definitive no matter how much his brain tries to convince him otherwise – some days all he can drag himself out of bed for is a cup of coffee and a cigarette or a few slices of tangerine, the scent reminding him of his boy, his college boy. He’ll crack open a window in the living room and curl up against the cushions in the window-seat, the hood of his black hoodie over his head, and there he’ll try weaving his way through the weeds and the tangled neurons in his thunder-stained mind to anything resembling an actual thought with a pinch of substance.

For the days where he’s more clear-headed his mama puts up little post-its around the house with simple tasks for him to do to help him feel useful and necessary. And in the mornings whenever Robbe has spent the night, Sander finds little notes from him too; there’ll be an I love you on his pillow, an I’m so glad you exist placed on his desk and I’m bringing you flowers later <3 hanging on his door. The first time Sander doesn’t think Robbe actually means the one with the flowers, but when he buzzes him in later that afternoon, the first thing he sees is a bouquet of light pink lilies cradled in his arm against the autumn brown of his jacket, the hues so lovely and gentle, just like Robbe. It’s more than Sander’s frail mind can take, and Robbe wipes away the thin streams of warm tears with his sweater paws, and they laugh softly when it only makes it worse.

Since before Robbe, Sander has been figuring out what soothes him, what makes him feel more at ease, what helps him settle back into his body and bones when coming out of a bad episode, and he has slowly built up a list of things that assist in bringing the puzzle pieces of his mind back into place.

Walks

Sander’s aunt has a golden retriever, Bella, who goes on a little holiday at Sander’s when he’s down and spends most of his days at home. In the mornings she’ll pad over the hard-wood floor to his bed and nuzzle her nose against Sander’s face until he wakes up, waiting patiently for her walk. It’s easier for Sander to get out of bed knowing there’s someone relying on him for their needs and wellbeing. He’ll take her and himself on a walk in the fog-blue mornings when the morning traffic is yet to come, and then again in the early evening when it’s still light out but the streets are quieter, enough for him to give his brain some stimulation when it feels like it has slowed to a halt. The sound of his boots against the sidewalk reminds him that he’s still part of the world, that he hasn’t completely vanished after all.

Sometimes he goes by himself, just listening to and observing the city around him with pale eyes. Other times Robbe goes with him, sleepy-eyed and rosy-cheeked in the mornings, relaxed and loose-limbed at night. He doesn’t curl his hand around Sander’s but lets it hang by his side with their pinkies brushing, open and inviting, for Sander to take if and when he feels like it. Sander will thread their fingers together always, but he loves Robbe for giving him a choice and never forcing anything on him.

Often, they find a bench somewhere, in a park or at the river, a place that isn’t too crowded but still has plenty of things for Sander to rest his eyes on. It’s only the middle of September but some leaves are already falling, lying yellow and limp on the ground, and Robbe notices Sander’s wondering expression.

“It’s probably because the weather has been so dry; they’re shedding their leaves to conserve water and energy,” he says.

And Sander instinctively inches closer, a small smile on his lips. “Clever you.”

Bella sits by Sander’s legs with her head propped on his knee, her deep brown eyes alternatively scanning the place and glancing up at him, sensing his sadness. She’s calm and curious and cuddly, reminding him of a certain someone. When Sander tells him, Robbe breathes out a little giggle, making Sander gaze at him more deeply than he has in days, at the silky curls around his ears and the blinking hoop and the crescent dimples curved into his cheeks, and he’ll quietly rest his head on the slope of Robbe’s shoulder, a few tiny clearings of blue sky starting to appear in his overcast mind.

Showers

Back at home, he and Robbe linger in the hallway for a bit, their hair messy, the scent of fresh air in their clothes. When Robbe says that his green, sparkly eyes are coming back, Sander curls a few fingers in the front of Robbe’s shirt, feeling the firm plane of his stomach against his knuckles as he mumbles, “Shower.”

Some nights Sander can’t stand the mere idea of catching glimpses of himself in the mirror; hates the way he looks with his violet circles and dull, greasy hair. So Robbe will light a couple of candles, and they’ll undress in the dim orange glow and quietly get under the shower spray. And there, with Sander’s forehead resting against his own, Robbe will wash Sander’s hair and tell him that he looks beautiful in this light, while his fingers work in small, bone-melting circles. The near orgasmic pressure on his scalp helps reconnecting Sander’s mind and body, making him press up tightly against Robbe, finally diving back into the swirling, velvety heat that licks into every cell of his being.

“Thank you for… For staying with me,” he says between hushed breaths and light kisses. It falls clumsy from his lips, sounding graver than he intends it to, but Robbe, the angel soul that he is, moulds his answer into five words of pure reassurance that protectively wrap themselves around Sander’s heart.

“I’m going to marry you.”

Sander doesn’t cry. But he’s very damn close.

Reading

This one begins one night maybe a year into their relationship. While Robbe brushes his teeth, Sander wanders Robbe’s room, taking in the familiarity of it, running a hand over the forest green sweatshirt draped over his chair, trailing the edge of his desk with a few fingertips. When he reaches his set of shelves, he sees it wedged in between a plant and some school supplies: a book of bedtime stories filled with beautiful watercolour illustrations, the cover a painting of a dark blue night sky with a full moon reading for her stars over a little sleeping village. The spine is threadbare, seemingly from the countless times of being opened and closed. As he flicks through the crinkled pages, soft lips press against the nape of his neck and the back of his shoulder.

“Are you snooping around my room?” Robbe mumbles.

“Mhm,” Sander hums. “What’s this book?”

Twining his arms around Sander’s stomach from behind Robbe says, “When I was little my mama used to read these stories aloud for me at night. She was looking through some stuff the other day and found it again.” He hooks his chin over Sander’s shoulder. “It’s cute, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Very.” Sander glances back at Robbe with a squeezing feeling in his chest. “Did it make you fall asleep?”

Robbe smiles. “Every time.”

Sander drops his gaze back to the book, asking quietly, “Will you read for me?”

And Robbe brushes a “Sure” and a kiss behind his ear, tugging him along to the bed.

It’s something they do now: Robbe reading aloud for Sander whenever he feels low and doesn’t have many words to offer. Sander then tucks his head under Robbe’s chin, and Robbe tangles his fingers in his freshly washed and citrussy-smelling hair, scraping over his scalp in endless, soothing motions. Safe and sound, Sander listens to stories about naughty star-children, wizards flying about in rolled up rugs, and a Goodnight-ship with live stuffed animals as passengers. They flow over him like dripping streams of honey, Robbe’s voice lovely and wonderful and a little sleepy, and Sander tries so desperately to make his foggy brain hold onto the words.

Sometimes when the night air is cooling Sander’s room and Robbe feels a little cold, he’ll wear a thick hoodie to bed. Sander loves the scent and the comfy feel of the well-worn fabric under his palm, but sometimes he gets a little frowny and frustrated at having to fumble for his small waist; so Robbe pulls it off despite the goosebumps rising on his skin, and Sander presses his ear to his heart and tightens his hold around him, sharing his body heat his only job while he listens to stories from when Robbe was little. And Sander feels little too; but it’s something he allows himself. A few years ago, he didn’t dare dream that he’d ever have this with someone; didn’t think he even had this level of softness in himself.

But here he is. Here they are.

He has never wanted to be someone’s more than he does Robbe’s; it’s so clear that he belongs to him. And it’s crazy, Sander thinks. Because no matter how feeble and numb around the edges his body and mind feel, his love for Robbe is always right there in a molten pond at the core of him, and Sander could cry at the fact that his brain always lets him have that.

In the days following, when he finds that he has enough energy to send Robbe little dorky, flirty texts throughout the day, such as Bella woke me up with wet, sloppy kisses. Wish it was you or when you’re in the mood for a snack but you’re not there💔  with an attached photo of himself pouting at the open fridge, he knows that the darkness in his chest and brain is releasing its hold and taking flight.

[venuscribble]

No open cars, no open bars — Kim Namjoon

A/N: Hello again! Sorry I will do everything but follow the laws of grammar in my writing, I'm working on it... Grammarly hates my guts. Anyways, please do enjoy!

Summary: Joon takes his most favourite person to his most favourite spot in Seoul. He even gains a new friend on the way, too.

Fluff, hints of idol!Joon, gender neutral reader, bullying in a very romantic and charming way

It feels like I’ve lived for this little moment

On the two wheels, everything is just a trivial daydream

“Nearly there!” calls out Namjoon, riding ahead of you with his navy denim jacket billowing slightly behind, spanning out to meet the push of the wind like the wings of a dove. As the same gust pushes itself through your hair and makes waste to the careful styling you had applied to it, you can't help but realise it doesn't treat you half as nice as it does to the man before you. The gentle breeze makes his every movement elegant as he peddles along, head turning side to side to make sure every inch of the scenery around him is taken in. Intently, Namjoon soaks every little detail of his ride up and leaves nothing to be ignored. There’s not a single thing his pensive mind cannot see the beauty in, as his legs continue their steady push of the pedals below him. Nothing is minute, and to Namjoon, everything has its unique charm. It makes perfect sense for Namjoon to demand that the physical embodiment of everything he loves most about biking should accompany him on his next excursion. Despite your feeble argument against it, you knew how much accompanying Joon meant to him, a signal of trust and love which such a small gesture revealed to you. “It’ll be absolutely perfect,” he gushed as you agreed. “My baby and my bike. My two favourite things.”

You’ll do almost anything to see the bright beam of a smile Joon emits when he hears any good news. Even, it seems, deal with the gradual pain in your calves as you carry on peddling your bike along the smooth concrete path. Casting your gaze around, you understand with full clarity why Joon comes here to think - the world around you feels nothing less than idyllic. With the golden light of the sun meeting the greenery on either side of the road which you and your partner now inhabit, it feels like nothing of the cold concrete world you’re used to. Saturated and delicate, the air of perfectness is almost confusing in a sense of unfamiliarity to you. Even the daisies along the path's edge which greet you with a bow as the wind hits them feels closer to a Ghibli movie than your admittedly average life. It feels so unlike bustling Seoul, unlike unforgiving earth, unlike any dimension you could conjure up. This moment between you and Namjoon is so intimate that you conclude the space belongs to both of you and you two only. Only yours and Joon’s reality to feel the sunlight warming your cheeks and to think back on in future days.

“You look so peaceful.” You call out to Joon, hoping your voice carries through the whirring of your wheels and your backpack which audibly jiggles under your peddling. Namjoon smiles to himself, head ducking slightly in bashfulness. Accepting compliments from such a deity as yourself…he knows that will never be his forte. Alas, something his high IQ falters at - the praise of his loved one. He doesn't have a moment to string a reply together when along the path ahead he spots something that has him squeezing his brakes.

“Ah, check it out!” He exclaims happily, dismounting his bike as you brake to find...a traffic mirror? As you settle your own bike out the way to walk to your boyfriend, your head comes to rest on his shoulder from behind, looking up to the circular shape. It gives off an almost fish eye effect, the sky which is gaining an orange hue curving around your interlocked figures. A strong arm moves to hook around your waist, as Joon pulls you into his side. Seizing the opportunity to finally have you close once again, his lips plant a small kiss atop your head.

You give a small puff of a laugh. “Yknow, stopping to look at your reflection is a little vain.”

“Stopping to look at our reflections,” Joon jokes with a soft squeeze to your hip. “Me and my love.”

Your head turns to find where Joon had left his bike - of course, rather half-hazzardly abandoned in the middle of the path.

“You just left your love in the middle of the road.”

Namjoon can only let out a long and disapproving aish at your joke, releasing the hand on your waist only to engulf you in a gentle hug. Your head rests against his chest, finding solace in the familiar deep scent of his cologne. His arms wrap around your frame and rest on your hips, chin resting atop your head as he begins to rock your bodies side to side.

“Stop that.” He whines, rather than scolds. “You know I’d choose you above anything alllll day. Even if it was some kinda super cool mountain bike with an engine built in so I don't have to pedal. I’m still choosing you, okay?”

“Even above a super cool bike with engines?” you pout up at his face. He’s starry-eyed staring down at you, love pouring out of his gaze.

“Even then, and always.”

Content, you allow yourself to settle back into the comfort of his chest. What a sight, you wonder. Two lovers swaying to a melody no one can hear. You hear some chatter in the distance which only becomes a murmur once your senses tune to the soft rise and fall of Joon’s chest. His eyes smile down at you until flicking up to the mirror once more, and the sight of your frame resting upon his as the sunset casts a golden beam over you makes something tug at his heart. "Why me", he puzzles. Why him of all men in this lifetime, granted a gift so precious as yourself. He closes his eyes. His mind spirals into self-reflection. Why should Joon be the sole person granted such a harmonious moment as the one happening in front of his very eyes? What makes him so lucky? He doesn't have too long to analyse what karma he has, as he feels two paws plant themselves above his knee.

“Yeong-Won! We don’t jump at strangers!” ashamedly orders a woman as you turn your head and deduce to be in her mid-30s, whilst she and another older lady pry the golden retriever from hopping up your boyfriend’s leg. Not that Namjoon would care at all. Joon loves animals, and your many days having him give Moni just a few more kisses than you can attest to that.

“Hey, buddy!” coos Joon as he bends to meet the dog’s level. It’s slightly more grown than a puppy yet reaches to kiss Joon’s face with ease as he sinks to greet the boisterous dog. He rakes a hand over its head, running through its golden fur and ruffling his slightly floppy ears. “Nice to meet you, Yeong-wonie. What a handsome boy, eh?”

“He never does this to strangers,” offers the older of the two women to you. “Looks like he needed to say hello!”

You smile in return, shaking your head as Joon and the dog carry on playing as if the world around them has dissolved away. “What a lovely dog, he’s adorable!” You giggle. Joon rises to stand once again, not without ruffling the golden fur one last time.

“So sorry about that, again.” The younger woman adds as her eyes seem to pause on Joon’s face. Not something you're entirely foreign to.

“Wow, I feel like I recognise your face, mister. Dayeon-ah, doesn't the nice man seem familiar?”

The elder, now identified as Dayeon in your mind, furrows her eyebrows together as she thinks. Namjoon all but turns red.

“Ah, my mother tells me I have ‘one of those faces' all the time. It was nice to meet you! See ya, Yeong-wonie!”

After a quick goodbye, you both share an embarrassed laugh together and settle to resume biking once more. The sunset is in full swing now, casting shades of neon pink and blood orange against the cloudless sky like lazy brushstrokes of colour overlapping.

As Joon promised, it only takes a quick 2 minutes of peddling until you rear a corner and the greenery which followed your left side on the path is replaced by the apricot shade of the Han River. The sight makes your stomach stir - it's like nothing you could ever imagine. The setting sun reflects so perfectly, an oil painting brought to life in front of your eyes. You know Joon meets your level of adoration as the wind carries the sound of his small “Wah, so pretty” to you. Joon, your self-proclaimed bike guide during this trip, guides you along the path beside the river further, the atmosphere tranquil with the sounds of birds chirping and your wheels spinning.

“We’re here, babe.” Joon announces, once again dismounting his bike and prompting you to follow, resting your bike beside his. He is, of course, your guide. Your personal guide pauses to stop at a flat square of concrete just aside from the main path, facing the river which grows more and more picturesque by the minute. Your perfect picnic spot, you realise, pulling the backpack off your body and spreading the soft brown blanket kept inside. Joon gives a soft sigh as his body all but collapses down onto the square. The man is uber-fit, almost shockingly buff these days, yet he groans groggily after your short ride.

“Someone tired?” you tease. “Maybe you should be hitting the gym some more than you already are.”

“You're so mean to me. I bring my favourite spot and you make fun of me like this.” Huffs Joon, leaning back with his hands behind him supporting his body. “You’re lucky I love you as much as I do,” he adds with a small laugh.

“I know,” you reply, rapidly. You know you are, you might just be the luckiest person on earth. The one feeling the warmth of Joon’s unconditional love and companionship every single day. You feel like the moon and Joon is the earth itself, only you are blessed to be in his orbit despite the unfathomable size of the universe and countless other people living as you are.

“Hey, you know I'm kidding, babe.” Joon softly argues, hand running through your hair, ruffling it slightly. A blush creeps up to warm your cheeks, nuzzling into the large hand currently entwining it’s fingers into your hair. After a slight pause to collect his thoughts, Namjoon’s voice becomes more gentle as he replies, “Having you...it's like having this one treasure no one else can find. Like, I dunno. Like everything good you’ve done in life is being repaid to you. Does that make any sense?”

“Of course it makes sense, babe.” Your hand pries the one resting on your head to lock your fingers together, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You feel like that to me, too. I promise. You feel like everything good.” You take a quick look around your surroundings. You catch Joon’s eyes locking onto yours, gazing adoringly at you as if some sort of heavenly body had taken form, moulding into you. “You feel like the sunset and the trees... The wind, the flowers, all of it. You feel like nature to me, Joonie. Just tranquil and loving,” you turn to meet his eyes, “always so loving.”

“Ah, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Didn’t think taking you on my ride would make me so…”

“Gross?” you intercut with a smirk.

“Emotional, Y/N. But, this is the most romantic place in Seoul, I suppose. Doesn't help that I'm here with my angel. It’s human nature to be all soppy.”

You shuffle down to rest your head on Joon’s thigh, the extra bulk recently gained there making for an excellent makeshift pillow. He looks down at you with a tender smile which makes your most favourite pair of dimples on earth take form.

“I’m just waiting for someone to pop out that bush and say ‘Hey, got ya! Look at you being all mushy!’” you joke, the laugh it emits from Joon slightly rocking his thigh and your head in return.

“It’d probably be Jin-Hyung. I would go investigate myself if he didn’t have a schedule after we left. Still, not that I think anyone else can be trusted.” He huffs.

“Mm, definitely not.” you agree, nuzzling slightly into his thigh below you.

“I could stay here forever,” Joon begins after a tranquil minute, “just frozen in this moment.”

You want nothing more than for that to happen. For the laws of time to grant you this never-ending memory, to encapsulate it forever and never again worry about the minutes passing you by.

Joon’s lips press another soft kiss upon your head, lingering there for a while, basking in your warmth and the smell of his favourite green apple shampoo you keep using. Above you the sun gives its last fleeting moments of illumination, sinking to be doused in the Han River. He stays there, engulfed in bliss for a short second, nothing worrying him on Earth. That is, until his eyes widen and his head whips from atop yours to rapidly look at your puzzled face.

“How’re we getting home?” He all but exclaims. He’s right, you're both clearly slumped and what little sunlight that is left quickly fades. You think for a second, then, nothing.

“Shit!”