#Stay tuned for hopefully some content

[spark-of-future]

Good evening, I’m gonna be rebooting this blog

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Did somebody say Freddy Content?

I got a lil Freddy AU thing coming soon buddy it's on the waaaayyy :)

[justporo]

Blood running amongst us

No one had ever spoken of the waves of tingling lust running through your body caused by your lifeblood rushing from your body to the vampire’s as he felt your pulse under his lips. A sensation almost as intimate as if he was buried deep inside of your body.

Either way he had a tendency to get lost in you.

That’s what you would be going for tonight - either way.

MASTERLIST | AO3 | PART 2

Author's Note: I wanted to write some smut again when I got that request asking for Astarion receiving some sweet sweet head. And he will. But you know I wouldn't be me if it didn't completely spiral out of hand. So this willl be a hopefully nutritious three-course meal (plus dessert maybe?) - this being merely the appetizer. Gif by @cheekylittlepupp (pls follow them!)

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, foreplay, blood kink, light predator/prey dynamic, dryhumping

Wordcount: 2,1k

The day had been strenuous for all of you. Your adventures had been tiring before you had entered the cursed Shadowlands but now it had taken on a wholly new quality of exhausting.

All of it weighed especially heavy on Astarion it seemed, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Not only was the fact that he was once more surrounded by darkness the cause of a perpetuous knot in his stomach but there was nearly nothing here to keep him fed. It was more than just an uneasy feeling that had become his continuous companion roaming these godsforsaken lands.

His usually glinting crimson eyes seemed to have lost their sparkle and the dark circles around them seemed deeper than you had ever seen them before. His behaviour had become a lot more skittish again too: eyes flitting around as if he feared his old master could await around every corner now.

It made your chest clench in agony to see him like that. Especially since he had opened up a little about his past and what pain it had meant to become and be a vampire.

Now he'd barely begun to enjoy a bit of sunlight and freedom again, only to be thrown back into the shadows. Like a flower that had just sprung up only to be wilting away so quickly again.

You wouldn't let that happen. You swore it silently to yourself as you kept watching the man that had managed to make your heart stir, despite everything.

Not that you had planned to fall for the pale elf that had grazed your neck with a blade the first time you'd met. It hadn't exactly been love at first sight. And now you didn’t quite know how you would ever tell him. But all gods above and below be damned, you would rip your own heart out and hand it to him on a silver platter if only it meant, Astarion would be safe and happy.

But thankfully this wasn’t yet needed - a bit of blood this far had sufficed to nurture him. And you had an idea how to make him at least temporarily forget some of the worries he so obviously was carrying around with himself.

Immediately when your party set up camp for the night you sauntered over to your vampire, dragging him into his tent telling him that he should feed on you. You would make sure to take some of the worry off him - make him feel happy.

“My, aren’t you a little too desperate to get my fangs sunk into your neck, darling?” Astarion teased, one eyebrow lifted. His tone sounded a little flat compared to his usual flamboyant manner. But he still obviously wouldn’t reject your generous offer. You laid down on his bedroll like you were used to from all the times before to let the vampire climb on top of you so he could easily access your graciously offered neck.

It had become a well practised ritual between the two of you. All steps meticulously planned out and followed through. You were laying on your back, trying to stay relaxed. But an exhilarating mix of anticipation and some kind of primal fear took hold of you like usual. Your hands became a little clammy and your fingers began to tap a nervous tune as you watched Astarion kneel down beside you. After all, you were about to hand yourself over to a mortal predator.

For now though, it was merely the anticipation nearly killing you - or was there something else to it?

If you were honest with yourself, it was more than instinctual fear that made the pace of your heart pick up. The whole process was - as you had quickly found out - incredibly intimate and titillating; despite - or rather because of - the pain.

You knew that as much, if not more, was true for the vampire as well. In fact, it was often quite evident - and not only because he enjoyed taking his time when he saw you already quivering beneath you.

Not uncommonly after Astarion had taken enough of your blood to keep up his strength did the tension in the air become overwhelming and lead to both your bodies entangling further and a night was quickly wasted away wrapped up fully in each other.

For now though he had you pinned to the ground beneath him with the way his knee slid between your legs, one hand next to your head and the other gently wandering over the delicate skin of your throat. Cool, smooth fingers wrapped around the back of your neck to steady you for him - one by one.

His grip was firm. You knew his fingers would soon dig into your soft flesh even harder - as soon as his instincts at least partially took the better of him. It was those moments that had your heart gallop near to collapse: knowing what he was while you were fully assured that Astarion was very well capable of keeping the reins on himself firmly.

The vampire hovered over you as you watched him close in on you, your heart beat tumbling. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips.

His angelic face above you could have been enough to forget everything else-

But you mustn’t lose track of your objective - he was the sole focus tonight. As hard as it was with Astarion’s crimson eyes already devouring you as he bared his fangs right above where your racing heart beat showed him where his lifeline laid.

You wrapped your arms gently around him when he leaned into you. Some of his bodyweight settled down comfortably on you, rendering you fully immovable. You didn’t mind in the slightest as he pressed you down to the ground.

And as soon as Astarion’s thigh pressed between your legs, brushing against your core as he pinned you down more, coherent thoughts evaporated.

People had always only taught you to run from the big bad monster. No one had ever told you what might happen if you ever got caught. No one had ever mentioned the thrilling sensation of being in the monster’s grasp, feeling its grip tighten around you. No one had ever spoken of the intense pleasure between the two heartbeats of fangs grazing your skin and them sinking in, the breath that was held and the muscles that tensed.

No one had ever spoken of the waves of tingling lust running through your body caused by your lifeblood rushing from your body to the vampire’s as he felt your pulse under his lips. A sensation almost as intimate as if he was buried deep inside of your body.

Either way he had a tendency to get lost in you.

That’s what you would be going for tonight - either way.

Right now you felt the familiar shot of pain echo through you that quickly turned into this icy, numbing sensation that felt weirdly pleasant. A soft mewl left your lips as Astarion began drinking your blood. He could always feel how your heartbeat quickened even more as he indulged in your exquisite and generous offering of blood. The taste was promisingly and uniquely you, nothing would ever compare to this.

For a few long moments the tent was filled with nothing but soft moans and whimpers. Something you hoped would linger when Astarion would’ve had his share of blood from you to keep up his strength.

So - time to set up a trap on your own.You let your hands softly wander over his back, pressing down gently so he would lower himself fully onto you. And when he quickly let himself be roped in by you and your tender offer, you made your hips roll into him, eliciting a groan from Astarion as he was still buried in your neck.

You were delighted by the friction it caused. Every tiny bit of traction made the coil in your lower body wind tighter - until this alone could have become your undoing.

And to your satisfaction you clearly felt the vampire’s desire already manifest too. Only hesitantly had Astarion admitted to you how arousing the whole act felt for him. How he hadn’t be prepared for the primitive lust it caused him to have you like this, to taste you. And how it had taken every last ounce of his self-control that first night he’d drunk your blood to not take you right then and there until you would have been nothing but an overstimulated, drained whimpering mess.

Now he embraced this sensation and latched onto it deliberately.

His hardening length was pressing against your stomach now with the way you worked on eliminating even the last bit of space in between you. Instinctively and subconsciously he began slowly grinding into you. You coaxed him on with breathless, almost obscene gasps and moans spilling from you and rolling your hips against him again and again. Effectively grinding on his thigh between your legs.

The two of you stayed like this in this unbelievably intimate embrace, lewdly writhing against each other as you offered Astarion the life force he needed.

He could have kept living off meagre critters. But getting to indulge in your exquisite, incomparable taste heightened the pleasure and sensation tenfold for the vampire - the difference between merely surviving and enjoying life and all the sinful pleasures it had to offer to the fullest.

A whole eternity passed as you felt Astarion’s fingertips dig harder and harder into your neck - just as you had wished for. Only part of the beast within the vampire was unleashed - the part that enjoyed playing and teasing and made it enjoyable for both of you. The delicious pain added onto the hazy, floaty numbness spreading through your body and made your eyes roll back. The moan that drifted off your lips was immediately answered by Astarion with another groan of his own. The faint metallic scent of your blood filled the air.

You felt his rock hard cock drag along you. You were already desperately longing for it.

But this was first and foremost about your vampire tonight.

He bucked his hips into you harder now, almost losing control. But Astarion always remained having the upper hand in the end.

When he finally withdrew from you, you saw how the pupils in his eyes were diluted. Giving him more animalistic than humanoid air. The creature within him was barely in check.

He licked a last trickle of blood off his lips as he sat up again, sitting back on his legs. And with the gesture you saw him regain some of his composure, the man getting a hold on his more primal side again.

Your heart hammered against your rib cage as you observed Astarion. You got up onto your elbows at first and then sat up while the vampire took deep breaths, trying to find the anchor within him again. A massive bulge was clearly outlining against his pants.

Astarion’s crimson eyes wandered slowly up your body. Surely your arousal must be visible too, you already felt your nipples press against your shirt and how sweat made it stick to your torso.

“You’re playing dangerous games, my sweet love,” Astarion murmured, sounding breathless despite his lack of needing respiration. One of his hands was clawing into his knee, the grip slowly loosening the more breaths he took. With his other he tried to capture an escaped drop of your blood before it would be lost. He surely couldn’t be accused of letting anything go to waste.

As you gazed upon him, you saw that some of the vigour he’d recently been missing had returned to him. Which was most prominently evident by his cock achingly straining against his pants.

Your eyes dropped to it and your tongue darted out to wet your lips subconsciously.

“Maybe I enjoy that,” you replied firmly, catching his gaze and holding it while you crawled over to him. He smirked softly at you as you prowled closer.

“Proceed at your own caution then, darling,” he replied, purring the last word. You hummed contentedly, smiled and pressed an almost chaste kiss to his soft lips. It felt almost innocent after what you had just engaged in. He kissed you back just as lightly.

And when you had lured him with your gentle caress, you pushed him back by his shoulders, making him fall backwards.

The vampire gasped curtly but was already smirking lasciviously at you as you roamed closer with a grin that bared your teeth - as if the roles were reversed now.

He’d fallen right into your trap.

You had brought him to an edge once already this night.

You would take him to another - and then beyond.

~~~

Part 2

Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

How You Turn My World; Chapter 4

You finally find your way into the labyrinth, coming across some new and old faces; both friendly and malicious.

Character; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, reader is getting tired of being stuck here and smelling like a bog

Content Warnings; Swearing, some talk of death, reader passes out

Word Count; 2.2 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

As per usual, don't put my work into AI.

You were finally making some decent progress, what, with not being stuck in some bog and knowing somewhat of where you were going. A vast improvement really! Well, it would be, but unfortunately, you still reeked of rotten eggs and skunk — apparently the bog stench only got worse the longer it stayed on.

“Why did it have to dump me into the swamp,” you huffed, rounding yet another corner. “Like, it could have dumped me beside the water, but, no, no, let’s dump the magicless human right into the putrid bog water! A good guffaw, don’t you think? Ha ha ha HA!”

At least your au de Bog of Eternal Stench kept any would-be assailants away since you hadn’t run into anything (besides a rose bush, ouch) since you started making your way through the labyrinth. So maybe it wasn’t all that bad… damn, maybe your sense of smell was just used to it… hey, if stink helps you not die, then you would gladly stay stinky! Well, bitterly stay stinky is more like it.

“Assholes,” you muttered, rounding another corner. 

But it wasn’t a corner; it was a crossroad. Three paths merged off of the one you were on.

… aren’t labyrinths just one long line? THIS IS A FUCKING MAZE?! You groaned, looking at your possible options which all looked exactly the same.

Decisions, decisions, decisions. Of course nothing is easy here, no no no! Gotta make things difficult now.

The hedge behind you rustled, and you whipped around, getting into a stance where you could either land a pretty good sucker punch to the hedge-stalker or make a mad dash away. But out of the hedge crawled out a small, fuzzy, caterpillar. And back at home you would have thought it was cute, but you learned your lesson from the doors; don’t trust it, or anyone for that matter.

You looked down at the caterpillar, and the caterpillar looked up at you, blinking slowly. 

What are the chances… 

“Do you know a way out,” you asked the caterpillar, crouching down so that you didn’t tower over it.

The caterpillar blinked at you again (apparently caterpillars in the Underground have eyelids, which isn’t the weirdest thing considering everything). “No,” it chirped and continued crawling on its merry way, wherever that may be. “But you’ll find the way.” And it disappeared into the growth of the maze, humming a little tune to itself.

You sighed, and pushed yourself back up, straightening out your shoulders and looking up to the sky. “I’ll find a way,” you breathed, looking up at the cloudless sky which was starting to turn a brilliant amber with the setting sun. “I might want to find a way is more like it.”

You looked back down to the ground, looking at the three paths in front of you. They all look the same, save for the ground making up paths themselves, with the middle and right paths looking well worn with travel. And while they may be well worn, there was a voice at the back of your head that was whispering caution. The left-most path was not as well travelled, with dead vines covering parts of it.

“Hopefully you’re right, little buddy since I could use all the luck I can get.” And you made your way down the path, hoping that it was the correct one and didn’t lead you to your death or some other unpleasant thing.

…

…

Lilia was at the entrance of the labyrinth, in front of the two doors.

“Have you seen a human, about this tall, a bit of a temper, and smelling foul,” he asked the doors.

The doors looked at each other before looking at Lilia. “And what’s it to you,” they said in unison.

Lilia smiled, but it was one of mild annoyance, not joy or amusement. “Royal orders I fear. You wouldn’t want the mistress finding out about you both tampering with a royal matter, would you?” The smile turned cat-like since Lilia had backed them into a corner.

The doors paled, with the blue door speaking up. “No no, sir! We would never dream of such a thing!!! Yes, there was a human, a wretched one at that, horribly rude!”

Lilia hummed, cocking a brow at the door. “I do think wretched is a bit of an overstatement now,” he whispered to himself. “Well, tell me where about they are then. The sooner I can collect them, the better for you lot.”

The red door sighed, “Near the heart of it, they took the left path.”

Left path? Why the left path leads to… Shit. Lilia mentally groaned, knowing that regardless of the path you took, you would end up having to deal with them eventually. “Your cooperation has been noted,” is what he said though, giving the doors both a nod before turning into a bat and flying over the labyrinth, trying to find you before you ran into whoever them was.

“Please be clever enough not to die,” he whispered to no one, hoping that he didn’t have to deliver your body to the Queen.

…

…

The left path brought you to what looked like a forest; with old-growth trees, ferns and moss covering the ground, and a list mist hanging in the air. It was peaceful and beautiful, with the setting sun illuminating the mist without burning it away.

But that would not last, night was fast approaching and you had nothing to protect you this time; no rowan tree to haul your ass up, and no sort of weapon to protect yourself besides the oh-so-lovely smell of the bog to deter something from eating you. You were pretty sure it would also keep away anything that wanted to otherwise snatch you up.

“AH!” Something jumped out from a tree, and you couldn’t fully register what it was since you were also screeching, much like the creature was at you; you with fright, the creature with amusement and joy.

Two other creatures jumped out from behind the trees and startled cackling, jumping, and clapping. Together, they surrounded you, with no way to really escape them without fighting through.

… you really should have read about fae species, since you didn’t know what they exactly were, or how dangerous they were either. 

One pulled you near a pit and lit a fire, cackling in glee and dancing, trying to get you to join them. “Ah come on, human, have some fun! DANCE BABEY!!!!”

But you stayed still as more creatures came out of the shadows, dancing around the fire, giggling, cackling, and pulling a bit at your clothes to prompt you to join them. You didn’t know, cementing your feet down, your eyes watching their movements with caution.

‘Should you dance with the fae, you shall not stop dancing until you exhaust yourself. And once you wake up, you will continue dancing. This cycle will repeat itself until you dance to death.’ 

At least that was what the book said, and so you stayed still, regardless of how much the creatures pulled at you. While it looked like a grand old time, you remained where you were.

“I don’t have time for dancing,” you answered coldly, flinching from pinching fingers. You were also a bit shocked that Eau de Bog of Eternal Stench wasn’t keeping them away. Either, they couldn’t smell, or, they didn’t care that you smelled downright awful. “So this ‘baby’ won’t dance.”

And should I be offended by you calling me ‘baby’ or am I reading too much into it?

The main creature just shrugged and spun its dancing partner around. “Your loss human! More fun for us then! YIPPEE!!!” And it threw something in the fire to where you could feel the heat on your face.

What now? You were just standing there awkwardly as the creatures danced about, singing something that you couldn’t really make out. All you knew was that the heat, noise, and the dizzying dance of them was making your head pound, and throat scream in thirst. You hadn’t drank anything for over a day(?) — no, bog water did not count — and the heat from the fire made the thirst only worse. Shit.

“Ah, you don’t look too… hot there human,” one of the creatures snickered at its own joke at your expense. “Maybe if you dance with us, loosen up and have a bit of fun, then you can have a drink? Hmm? Dancing won’t kill you!” But its failed attempts at covering up its own malicious giggles were more than enough to stand your ground… which was coming at you quite fast since you practically collapsed.

Was it the thirst? The pounding migraine that wanted nothing more than to crawl into some dark hole and hide? Or your exhaustion from making that tiring trek, crawling yourself out of the bog and making the trek again, or the hours you had spent wandering around the maze with no real idea of where you were going? All you really knew was that you were now on the ground with the creatures poking at you to see if you were still alive.

“Aw, man! Are they already dead? That’s no fun!” One of the creatures pouted, raising up your arm, and you let it plop back to the ground. “Come on human! Get up! You’re not a party pooper are you?”

Scre you buddy! Can’t you read the situation?!

You were trying your best to stay quiet, which wasn’t all that hard, since all of your energy was gone. 

“They best not be,” a familiar voice called out.

From your position, you couldn’t see who it was, but you could make out the creatures jumping away from you like you were the hot fire instead of the fire pit. But someone else was approaching until you could make out a pair of shoes in front of your face.

They crouched down beside you, placing their fingers gently at the base of your throat; taking your pulse. “Hmph, playing dead, are we, Beastie?”

That irritating chuckle. The annoying nickname. Those mischievous magenta eyes that now looked at you with curiosity and amusement.

It was him — Mr. Sparkles.

And he had just blown your act of playing possum (well, not really, since you had actually collapsed).

But you didn’t say anything, instead favouring to give him a dirty look. Yet he just shook his head in jest, and proceeded to pick you up and wrap you around his shoulders and neck like some sort of bizarre ermine pelt; better than being carried like a sack of potatoes or the bridal carry you supposed.

“Her majesty sends her regards for not turning or killing her guest,” Lilia offered the creatures. It would be such a waste and pity to see such an entertaining Beastie leave us too soon now. “But do know she won’t take to their condition lightly.”

My condition? I’m not some Victorian child with some unknown illness wreaking havoc on their body you know?! But all that you did was groan and cough. You couldn’t even cough in Mr. Sparkles’ (Lilia’s) face, since you had a lovely view of the moss-covered ground and the fae’s shoes.

He patted the back of your calves, and you would have kicked him if you had more energy, but you didn’t. “Now, we really should be off, since Beastie has… an hour to get out of this maze before they turn into some sort of worm, or a hedge; never know what this old labyrinth will decide on really.” Lilia chuckled at the thought (was it merriment, or was he happy that you weren’t joining the caterpillar you met earlier?).

“No,” you wheezed. “WoRm!”

“See! They said it themself! No worm! How lovely that we are on a similar wavelength, Beastie! Marvellous even!” Lilia exclaimed, and the both of you started levitating off of the ground. “Now, do enjoy your party, Fireys!”

The creatures (Fireys apparently) groaned but got back to their party, dancing around the fire like they didn’t just try to lure you to your death mere minutes before.

“Tsk tsk, Beastie,” Lilia’s tutting brought your attention back to him and you grumbled. “You owe me two favours now, you know. Lucky that I found you… although that part wasn’t hard. I thought you learned your lesson the first time you decided to take a dip into the Bog of Eternal Stench?”

You lightly kicked him, letting your irritation be known, but Lilia just hummed. “Now now, no need to be like that! Do you want to smell like a bog when you meet the mistress? She wouldn’t take kindly to your… unique aroma.”

You hissed out a breath since he decided to pinch at your ear rather harshly — prompting for you to answer. “No,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Also, do read up on that book, since you will want to know about the government and fae species etiquette!”

From a smelly bog and fumbling around a maze for hours on end, to finding yourself being taken to fae high society… was it too late to become some worm in the maze? I think being a worm actually has a better chance of me living.

But sadly, you were saved from an eternity of being a worm. Hopefully, Mr. Sparkles (Lilia) would cover for your blunders a little for when you found yourself in front of ‘the mistress’.

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To be continued!

~~~~~~~

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @cheezy-moon @eynnwwyjth @identity-theft-101 @ithseem @lucid-stories @ryker-writes @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

Link to Masterlist

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 2564

—-MDNI—-

A/N: Sorry that this one feels like a bit of a filler - but I’m seriously hoping to get some spicy content out in the next chapter so pls pls stay tuned! Also this is only proof read by myself so pls let me know of any errors!

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 4

We spent a few hours researching and looking into the First Blades whereabouts after dinner, Dean and I only making work-related conversations after the pie ordeal. Every now and then when I looked up from the book I was reading I’d catch him looking in my direction, but I was far too tired for any more confrontation - I knew he'd act like an ass if I said anything. I decided to head to bed at around midnight, unable to read more than a few words and actually process said words in my brain. As Sam was still asleep, Dean showed me to my room which was tragically opposite his, and I could only imagine the noises that I’d be hearing coming through that door. Getting ready for bed, I dug out an old boyfriends T-shirt that I was still in possession of and threw it on, making sure to remove all other items of clothing except my panties. I climbed into bed - which was surprisingly more comfortable than I’d anticipated, though the sheets smelt a little musty - and set an alarm on my phone so I could hopefully rise before the boys in the morning. The moment my head hit the pillow, sleep whisked me away, not giving me a chance to think about the wild day I’d had and the total jackass that I’d met.

*

My alarm rang at 5am and I crawled out of bed, dressing in yesterday’s jeans with a clean, low-cut tank top and an open flannel thrown over the top. Pulling on my boots, I ran my fingers through my hair before heading to the en suite bathroom to brush my teeth. As I turned on the tap, the pipes clanged alarmingly as a small stream of water trickled from the faucet, the harsh noise echoing around the small tiled room. “That’s not concerning at all,” I mumbled to myself, the noise finally stopping as I turned the tap off. After I’d finished brushing I headed back into the bedroom to grab my phone before leaving the room to walk wearily to the kitchen. Upon arrival, I instantly made a pot of coffee, the smell alone already helping to blow away the sleepy cobwebs in my mind. I needed food. Something good, like pancakes. So I rummaged around until I found everything I needed, starting to memorise where the brothers kept everything after spending so much time in here yesterday evening. As I whipped up the batter, I threw some bacon in a pan and placed three plates on the table, along with some mugs, the pot of coffee and a big bottle of maple syrup. As soon as I started cooking the batter, it was like I’d used a summoning spell.

“You know when I first woke up I thought that I’d dreamt you up in some sort of weirdly tame nightmare” Dean said in a deep and raspy, fresh-from-sleep tone as he paced into the room and sat at the table, rubbing his eyes.

“Is that your way of saying that I’m your dream girl, Winchester?” I teased as I poured him a mug of coffee. He smirked, not looking up at me.

“You wish darlin’.”

“I really don’t,” I turned back to the stove and flipped the pancake, taking a sip from my own mug.

I’d made a stack of maybe twelve pancakes by the time Sam arrived, greeting me with that warm smile of his as he took a seat opposite Dean.

“Good morning (Y/n), something smells amazing.”

“Good morning Sam,” I smiled back at him before I looked over at Dean, “That’s how you greet someone in the morning Dean, not by telling them they were part of your living nightmare.” Dean shrugged, taking a long drink from his coffee.

Sam gave me an almost apologetic look on his brothers behalf, saying quietly, “as charming as ever then, Dean.” As he sat down I placed the stack of pancakes along with the bacon on the table and both men’s eyes lit up, immediately picking up their cutlery.

“Help yourselves,” I said, taking a seat between them, “just leave a couple for me at least.”

Dean was the first to pile about five onto his plate along with a good portion of the bacon. Without even looking at me he placed two pancakes on my own plate as he reached for the maple syrup. Before I could ask for the bacon, it was Sam who served some up for me before giving himself whatever was left over before handing me the syrup.

“Oh, thanks guys…” I said, a little shocked at how weirdly coordinated they were with that whole task.

“You’re welcome,” they both managed to mumble out through huge mouthfuls of food. We sat in a strangely nice silence for a few minutes, the only noise to be heard was the sounds of breakfast being totally annihilated. Dean was the first to throw his cutlery down with a very satisfied groan. He stretched, his T-shirt rising slightly to show his incredibly toned abdomen.

For fucks sake.

“THAT is what powers a man up in the morning,” he said, his fingers interlaced behind his head.

“Mmm hmm,��� was all I managed to get out, finding it annoyingly difficult to look away, let alone to stop my eyes from trailing to where his leather belt hugged his hips and his old denim jeans gripped the thick muscles of his thighs. A few seconds must’ve passed when he cleared his throat and my eyes snapped up to be immediately caught in that moss-green gaze. Shit. I thought maybe for a second that he didn’t notice me looking. But then the corner of his mouth twitched up into that infuriating smirk. Luckily for me, he didn’t say anything, but I watched as he dragged his gaze over my figure, similar to how I did with him. It was Sam who spoke up next and I tore my eyes away, letting out a breath as he saved me from Deans silent interrogation.

“So I read last night about a possible case,” he started to say as he finished chewing the last bit of food on his plate before pushing it away and turning towards us.

“Go on,” Dean said, leaning forwards - finally covering his exposed stomach.

“I think it’s a haunting - some sort of item possession involving a ghost. All of the accidents that have been happening seem to occur either around or directly within an old antique store that’s connected to an old auction house. I think it’s worth a look,” Sam opened his laptop that he’d placed on the seat next to him, showing us all of the research he’d done overnight. Looking at the evidence he’d piled together, I think he was on to something. I nodded.

“Sure, I’m in. I’ll go pack a bag,” I said, standing up and clearing the plates from the table.

“Hang on a second,” Dean spoke up and I immediately knew he was talking to me.

“What?”

“What makes you think you’re coming with us for this?” His brows furrowed slightly.

“Because I never get to work out in the field - Bobby always had me on book duty and I want to see some real hunting in action,” I raised my voice a little starting to get defensive.

“If Bobby never let you do field work then neither are we. You’re staying here,” his tone was stern as he downed the last of the coffee and stood up, towering over me.

“What?!” I almost shouted.

“Dean, I don’t think it’s your place to say what she can and can’t do. I say we let her come along,” Sam intervened, his voice always full of reason and reassurance. I gave him a half smile - a small, ‘thank you for sticking up for me’.

“No way. There’s no way I’m letting Bobby’s girl put herself in danger. The old bastard would find a way to make us pay if anything were to happen to her; even from beyond the grave.”

“I don’t need you taking on his role, Dean. Bobby kept me safe my whole life, just him. I’m sure the pair of you could look out for me no problem on a little ghost trip,” I chided, coming up with a plan to get Dean to agree to me coming.

“(Y/n)s right, this shouldn’t be a hard case for us - if anything this is a small break from the real hard work,” Sam stepped towards Dean, trying to reassure him.

Dean looked from Sam to myself, and when our eyes locked I let a sly smile crawl onto my lips.

“Or maybe Dean Winchester isn’t up to the challenge?” I said, holding my hands up. He frowned, opening his mouth but I spoke again before he could get his words out. “Maybe….,” I stepped towards him, now only a few inches between us, “Dean Winchester is losing his touch, and isn’t the big strong man he used to be and really won’t be able to keep me safe…?” I flashed Dean my best doe eyes and I heard him suck in a breath as I reached forwards and tugged slightly on his T-shirt, making him look down at me with his eyes flicking between mine - dilating a little. I couldn’t help but bite my lip, looking up at him through my lashes and pressing my fingertips to his chest, feeling his heart rate increase with every beat from my touch. I liked to think that I was being very ‘persuasive’.

“I think you’re right (Y/n), I don’t think Dean is up to the task. He’s definitely been losing his touch,” Sam spoke up, catching on with my game and joining in with the verbal attack on his older brother. Deans eyes snapped up to look at Sam and the almost trance-like state he was in before was shattered.

“I have NOT lost my touch!” He snapped. Sam and I looked at each other and exploded into laughing very fake laughs, clapping and wiping away a pretend tear.

“Sure thing ‘sweetheart’,” I said, “prove it - keep me safe.”

“Oh I’ll keep you safe,” Dean took the bait and barged past us, “I’ll keep you safe from your own fucking shadow.”

*

After a few hours of packing and travelling, we arrived in a very well manicured town - even the motel was decent. Upon checking in, we got two rooms; one for me and one for the boys.

“Let’s drop our stuff off, freshen up and meet back here in ten?” Sam said, checking his watch. It was just past 11am.

“Sure, sounds good,” I replied, and Dean just nodded in approval. Their room was further down the corridor than mine, so I watched them leave before entering my room. It was the usual layout: one double bed, cheap linens, an old TV and an under-stocked minibar. At least the decor wasn't completely brown. I dumped my bags on the floor and started to unpack some essentials. I laid my clothes out on the bed - some of these outfits may come in handy later on. For now though, I’ll just stick to what I was already wearing. Lastly I grabbed a tin that was down in the bottom of my duffle - inside was a bunch of fake IDs that Bobby insisted on making me a few years ago. I smiled, remembering him always answering the phone to the Winchesters, pretending to be their FBI boss. I was always dying to know what they were hunting when he got those phone calls. I admired them a lot back then. I shook away the memory and pocketed the IDs, marching to the bathroom and splashing some water on my face before leaving, locking the door behind me.

The boys were already waiting for me.

“You boys ready?” I asked, to which they both nodded. “Where to first?” my question was aimed at Sam, but Dean replied.

“The old antique store just down here on the corner,” he grumbled as we started walking, still unimpressed that I was tagging along. I shot him a look as he practically glared at me from the other side of Sam.

“Get over yourself Dean. I’m along for the ride so deal with it,” I snapped at him, hoping he un-rustles his jimmies quickly. I wasn’t going to let him drag me down, not when I’m excited to actually be on a case. My first ‘out in the field’ case of all things. I wanted this to be a good memory. He scrunched his face up at my words, mouthing an angry ‘I hate you’ at me, to which I flipped him off.

“Guys just behave yourselves!” Sam stopped in his tracks right as we were outside our destination. “We are professionals so we need to act like it. We’re here to do our job,” Sam said in an authoritative voice - which undeniably sounded very attractive on him. I walked a few steps ahead of them and stopped with my hand on the front door to the store.

“Sam’s right. I’m happy to be here helping these people,” I smiled a little too sweetly before throwing a dark look at Dean, “so pull your shit together Dean, you’re making us look bad.” I heard him start to protest before I pushed the door open and walked into the shop, hearing the two brothers scurrying to catch up with me. As we walked in we were greeted by an older gentleman, with a kind face, a neatly trimmed pure white beard and round specs.

“Good morning and welcome to the store,” he said, his voice soft, “Can I help you?” He looked between the three of us. The boys reached for the fake badges, but they were lost for words when I beat them to the chase - obviously being unaware that I’d come prepared. Holding my badge up for the older gent to see, I spoke without missing a beat.

“Hi! Yes you certainly can help me - I’m agent Granger and these,” I jabbed my thumb to Sam and Dean who were standing right behind me, “are agents Crabbe and Goyle. We’ve got some questions for you regarding the strange occurrences going on around here recently.”

“Of course, it’s about time these things were investigated,” the older man turned and beckoned for us to follow, which Sam did immediately. Dean and I were left behind, staring each other down. I could tell he wasn’t happy that I had a badge, and I couldn’t help but smile at that. He scowled.

“This isn’t a fucking game.”

“You’re just mad that I got one up on you so early on,” I grinned up at him, his frown not budging.

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” he huffed.

“I’m safe from doing you then aren’t I?” I couldn’t stop the words from spilling from my lips.

“What?” He looked at me like I’d sprouted a second head, obviously not catching on. I chuckled a little, walking past him to catch up with Sam, leaving him standing there confused.

“Don’t think too hard about it Dean, you might hurt yourself,” I called back over my shoulder.

“Fuck y- hang on- oh you BITCH!” He shouted after me as he caught on finally. I laughed, not looking back.

“Only to you Dean.”

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Up Next:

Chapter 5

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hello!

I love your writing for Gawtin, and I was just wondering if you had the time for a request! Like, Gawtin is mated to a female reader, but the reader is pregnant with a yautja baby? Qui-koy will have a baby sister? Something fluffy and smutty too if you are comfortable! (If you do not have the time I understand, thank you for reading though! ❤️)

-🥹 anon

Baby Sister

Pairing: Gawin (female Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, lactation kink (now you guys know where that question came from), wlw, angst,

Word Count: 6014

Summary: The father died and Gawtin helps take over the care and grows to love them. The brother of the Gawtin dies due to a hunt gone wrong. Reader is pregnant, early pregnant that not even a Yautja could smell it just yet. In the grieving process, the scent hides the pregnancy for some time before Gawtin picks up on it and lets Reader know. Reader takes the news as good, seeing this is the last gift to them from their dead lover. Due to the grievance, Reader searches for something to fill the hole in their heart. Gawtin is there.

Author Note: I'm so glad people love her as much as I do! This had me thinking. I had two different lanes to take. I choose the sadder one. Hopefully the fluff and smut make up for it.

P.s. There is 11 pages here. 11. I say to myself I need to do smaller to get through requests.... I can't. So, I hope the 11 pages of angsy, fluff, and smut make it up to you since it took a while to get to this....

Masterlist

Ao3

He wasn’t coming home. Your home would be void of his presence now. Empty and silent. His laughter would never fill the rooms, the halls anymore. No children would roam the dwelling, running, sprinting.

A happy family.

Broken by his death.

It was a known fact every time he went out on his hunts, he may not return. But Bgiwl… This was Bgiwl. Nothing could take him down. He’s been in your life for a couple of years. Not a single creature he’s faced has dragged him down to meet Cetanu. He’s… he’s too mighty, too strong to be taken down and, and killed.

Nothing could kill him.

Until now.

Gawtin, his sister, had brought the news to you. You’ve met her before when she came over to catch up with Bgiwl or vice versa. She’s stunning, beautifully crafted both by genetics and hard work. The fact she doesn’t have a permanent mate at her side surprised you.

Then, there was Qui-oky. The sweet, adorable child that made you hopefully during all your intercourse with Bgiwl, it would take. It never did. Now, with him gone, you would have nothing of him to live with. You wiped away the tears that had stained your cheeks only for more to wet your cheeks. The tears would not stop, after an hour of the news was broken to you.

During that entire hour of your life, Gawtin stayed by you. Through haze, you can tell she’s struggling to figure out how to support you. The action alone has your broken heart aching even more. You cried a little harder and gripped tighter on her arm. Your head buried into her bicep as she stayed seated at your side, taking the drool, salty tears, and sobbing into her arm. With Gaston’s other hand, she reached over and began to softly pet your head. You sniffled at the action, tiredly coming down from sobbing to your hearts content. The Yautja began to purr a gentle tune that had your eyes beginning to droop. It helped slow down your heartbeat.

A hiccup broke the calm quietness in the room. With your brows furrowed, you glanced over to the origin and found a small form standing at the threshold of another room. Qui-oky.

At first, you smiled through the pain before the battle was lost. Tears poured down your cheeks all over again. The family you wanted with Bgiwl would never come. He’s gone. The only child that’s been able to run through the halls of your home was the child before you. You swallowed down the thick saliva in the back of your throat; struggling to get it down.

The female at your side gave your head a couple more pats before lifting herself to her feet. All the warmth was stolen back. You whined but stayed planted on the couch, unable to find it within yourself to leave this spot. She strolled over to Oky and bent at the waist to scoop him up. The child chirped at his mother and happily grasped at his mother’s face. Gawtin twitched her mandibles in reaction and tried to deter him. Qui’oky bonked his head to her temple in a love tap then pulled back, expectedly looking at her purple eyes. All he got was a deadpanned look from her.

Then, the little bugger twisted his upper body to look at you. You down casted your gaze to the ground and curled tighter into a ball on the cushions.

From the corner of your eye, you watched as Qui’oky nearly toppled over if it wasn’t for Gawtin’s hold, outstretching his arms towards you. You feel yourself tense, unsure if you were in the mood to handle the child. He wasn’t little for a one-year-old in terms for humans. He’s already walking and talking, though the majority of it is gibberish. But he’s much further along than any kid on earth. Would your kids be like him?

Fresh, hot tears stung your eyes at that internal question. You turned your head to the side to hide the fact you were going to cry again. A thick lump returned to your throat, blocking any words from being voiced. There are no children. There never be children. 

The sobs couldn’t be held back. A process stating all over again.

Days turned to weeks. Those weeks, your sadness still dragged on, pulled by your very own strength as you struggled to find your footing. Yet, every step of the way, Gawtin was right there with you. She held your hand the entire time, guiding you through the hours of the days and when the days turned weeks.

Later in your time Gawtin, you were curled up in her lap, head resting on her midriff. Such a minute little thing compared to the giant she is. She offered you comfort whenever you asked. Sometimes, you didn’t need to even use words. Just a look and she have you pressed against her.

Qui’oky is such a sweetheart. For the most part. As a kid, he still gets up to no good, learning the ropes of his world. He likes to figure out how soft human skin is, at your expense. There’s been a few added scars to you body from him alone.

Your fingers were slotted between her thick digits. Today was a lazy day. If there was a reason to be moving, that be your only motivation to be up. With your ear pressed to her chest, you felt and heard the rhythm of her heartbeat. Strong, loud. She was here, she was staying. She only went out to hunt for food and gather water every other day. You needed this. You needed her.

Her thumb rubbed along the back of your hand, engulfing the entire thing. The motion soothing and nearly lulling you into a slight slumber.

It’s been hard to sleep, even with time passing at the rate it has been. Yet, you believed every day that she allowed you to rest in her bed gave you a better night. A little less dead, a little less drowning.

The rubbing stopped and pulled you from your nearly unconscious state. You whined and tilted your head up to see if she would continue. Her chest filled deeply. Instantly, you began to grow nervous and pulled off of her midriff. “What’s wrong?” Those words falling your from lips immediately. Something was off.

Her free hand came up and cupped your chin to ensure you were looking her in her purple, piercing gaze. “When is the last time you have bled?” is her first question. Instead of answering you.

Bled? Like, a cut? Or… or that.

“You oomans bleed for their cycle. When is the last time you have bled?” Again? Why was she so pushy about it? But, her words confirmed your suspicions. You gave a week a shrug.

“I don’t know… it’s been a couple of months at least. I, I haven’t been paying much attention to it since,” you trailed off, unable to say those damning words. “But probably before… then. All this stress can through off the cycle.” It was the truth. You didn’t think about tracking it, especially after. There was no point. You had no one to have a child with. Those thoughts were bitter in the back of your mind.

Gawtin pushed you back to give her enough room to place her mouth to the crook of your neck. You shuttered at the feeling of her forked tongue slithering out and tasting your skin. “H-hey! What are you doing?” You wanted to be in the loop at all times, needing to be in control of the situation. Especially after everything came crashing down on you.

“You’re pregnant.” You blinked rapidly and jerked your head back. Then anger overcame the shock. You tore yourself from her lap and pointed firmly up at her.

“Don’t play games with me. Don’t!” you raised your voice at her. Hot tears prickling the corners of your eyes and blurry your voice. “I’ve not been near a male since then. It’s impossible!”

She followed suit and rose to her own feet, towering over you. You barely reached her waist. Her actions showed neutrality but your fear of angering rose to take control. Your feet stumbled back but caught the corner of a coffee table. As you fell back, a massive hand wrapped around your wrist and swiftly pulled you back to your trembling legs. All you could do in the moment was stand there, submissively lowering your head. You didn’t want her to be mad at you.

Her calloused hand returned to your cheek. “I do not lie. I smell the hormones, taste them even. Perhaps your sorrow overshadowed the scent but I can now smell it as clear as day. You are pregnant,” she assured and held you there, not allowing you a chance to even bolt from the truth.

The first thing you start to do is sob. It should be from happiness, relief but that’s not what you felt. The sorrow that filled you to the brim. Even as your knees give out, unable to hold you up, Gawtin scoops you up into her arms and hold you close. Her scent consuming everything. She sat back down on the couch and cradled you to her chest. A purr erupting from her sternum and vibrated across your skin.

The next thing you realize was waking up, face cleaned and body well rested. Confused as all can be, you slip out of the bed you’ve grown to know. Must’ve been a bad dread. You rubbed at your eyes and strolled into the kitchen.

An unfamiliar form stood in the living room. You immediately paused; muscles locked tight, ready to hide back away into the safety of Gawtin’s room. Expect, two sets of eyes found you first. Gawtin lifted her upper mandibles at you then motioned with a hand to come closer. You swallowed nervous and took the long route to stop just shy of Gawtin’s side.

Before Gawtin, another female stood in the main area of the living room. Face neutral and at ease. You can see by her scales she’s seen plenty of battles herself. For your own safety and assurance, you used Gawtin’s body as a shield. You kept a steely gaze on the new Yautja but didn’t dare step away from her.

Gawtin called your name and guided you from behind her to stand before her. “This is Fourta. She is the head medic for our village. I have requested her presence due to your pregnancy.” Your eyes widened. It wasn’t a bad dream. You gnawed on your bottom lip, the only thing holding back a sob.

Fourta gave a slight dip of her massive head. Her dark sea green blue scales shimmering in the low light. She’s from the sea clans. You recognized her form from times Bgiwl has taken you over to the coastal clans for supplies. What was she doing here? Your eyes narrowed again on her frame. She acted indifferent and stepped closer.

You tensed and stumbled backwards into Gawtin’s legs. The imposing female at your back placed her hands on your shoulder to hold you there. You swallowed nervously again and kept your gaze on her.

The sea green Yautja stopped her movements and knelt down to get closer to your level. It felt like someone trying to calm a terrified, stray puppy. You continuous eyed her. “I will not injure you, ooman. It goes against my oath as a medic. Yautja or not, you’re safe in my care,” she spoke in a soft voice that called to you like wind through the sails.

“I must check your vitals and ensure you are physically sound to carry this pregnancy through. There’s only been two recorded counts of a ooman carrying a hybrid. With little data, we have to be careful every step of the way. For both of your safeties.” The way she spoke, confident in her ability but also not cocky to show off.

A doctor, patient relationship to make this pregnancy as smooth as possible.

Yesterday wasn’t a dream. You were pregnant. This was Bgiwl’s last gift to you. Over your dead body would you let this fail.

Your head leveled out. You steeled your nerves with a full chest of air and stepped into her reach. Gawtin’s arms slipped off of your shoulders. “Okay, okay. I will allow for you to check me out but-“

“But anything that goes against her command, you will have to face me,” Gawtin interrupted and ate up the space you created between the two of you. Her heat washed over your back, blanketing you in a safety net. Her hands returned to your shoulders. Your body filled with confidence, head held up high and shoulders squared.

Fourta stilled and looked at the two of you before dipping her massive head. “Yes, of course, Gawtin.” Then, she stood back up. “Whenever you’re ready, I will begin my examination. At your speed and comfort.”

The new Yautja was true to her word, more so with the shadow of Gawtin being casted over her. Fourta was smaller than Gawtin by five inches, both by size and bulk. Gawtin was a hefty creature, yet not the largest Yautja out of the village. Fourta had a thinner body which is normal for the coastal clans, chest deep for the need for bigger lungs. Her arms having a slight fin on the outer sides to help with swimming.

A coastal Yautja wouldn’t dare to mess with a jungle Yautja in their own land and vice versa.

Once you were done with being poked and prodded, Fourta gave you more news. Three months. Three months along. Three missed periods you believed from the stress. Which, if you weren’t pregnant, you believed it still wouldn’t be working properly from everything you endured. So you don’t have a reason to worry at first.

Until now.

She left, leaving Gawtin with all the data they have about a hybrid pregnancy and birth. Information Gawtin would share with you at a later time. It was time to lax, to keep yourself calm during the duration of your pregnancy.

A way Gawtin knew was by drawing you a bath in her massive tub that could easily fit three female Yautjas comfortably. With soap and scents from a flower similar to lavender.

The clothing that was both a mixture from her and Bgiwl was pulled off of you and folded to the side. She didn’t even allow for you to take another step towards the tub. You were scooped off the ground and carried into the water. The perfect temperature for your body and newly growing baby.

Gawtin sat down on a ledge hidden under the water with you in her lap. You straddled her wide waist, arms surrounding her torso. The water drew away the tension in your body until you were lax against her. She rubbed the length of your spine, filling the curve of the bone. You groaned and tilted your head up. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” you muttered and put your face on her sternum.

Claws zipped down your spine and drew a shutter from you. “I will be here for you.” Your eyes clenched shut, feeling the familiar burn of tears all over again. He said the same thing and looked where you are now.

“How’s this going to work? I-I’ve never be-en pregnant befo-re. I’ve never had a ch-ild before. I don’t know what I’m doing!” The hands left your back to cup your face and force your head up at her. “And-and without him! What am I go-ing to-to do?!” Your mewls and blubbering started again in full force. Your view blurred by the fresh set of tears staining your face. “I-I could die!”

As you opened your mouth to rant once more, a thumb brushed over your lips and silenced you. You looked up at Gawtin expectingly. “My brother chose you for a reason. Permant mates are not something we fool around with. He saw the potential in you. Though, he has gone to meet Cetanu, you are not alone in this.” When you tried to dip your head to curl into a ball, she followed your head with hers while keeping her grip firm.

“Each step through this pregnancy, I will be here for you. Along the way, the entire way. You will not be alone,” she stated with no room for an argument. You whimpered, cried slowly turning into hiccups. You raised your arms and placed them on her chest, water dripped off of your elbows.

“G-Gawtin,” you stuttered her name, doubt and hope both swirling inside of your eyes while gaze at her. Slowly, the green Yautja leaned forward and rested her forehead to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and enjoyed to the peace brought to this moment. “Thank you.”

All she did was hum and began to purr. Even though you knew the position couldn’t be good for her back, she stayed for as long as you wanted. Her hands holding your face, forehead to forehead. A little spark burning to life in the ashes.

Your belly grew, your ankles were swollen almost all the time, and your breasts ached so badly. All of this affected your back. At times, you cursed your lost mate for the predicament he put you in without him being here to help you. As time continued on, you wouldn’t trade Gawtin for anyone else. Her knowledge of pregnancy, though alien, was extremely helpful.

Every week, you got a checkup from Fourta, taking what was necessary and making sure you were well. And you were. Well, besides the constant body aches but Gawtin let you know that’s okay. Every time, she would run you a bath to relieve aches and pains. Every time, your eyes would sparkle while looking at her.

Qui’oky, as if sensing your discomfort at the current moment, waddled over to you. He does this adorable little run, hands nearly up to his arm pits and head slightly bowed. Like a little bull charging towards you.

At nearly two years old, twenty-two months, he stood a head taller than your knee. His hands slapped against your thigh as he stopped, chest to your leg. Oky doesn’t speak English just yet but you were teaching him a little every time he was willing to sit down. Yautja children rarely ever stop. Always on the move, testing their limits about everything.

This was a precursor to your new life. You were thankful that Gawtin was allowing you time around Oky and learning the ropes before it becomes a real deal.

The child at your feet chirped again to gain your full attention. With how round your belly has gotten, you weren’t able to lean forward. Instead, you tilted your head. “What’s wrong, little Oky?” you cooed to the toddler and offered a hand to him. He clicked at you in a mixture of baby talk and true Yautja. You were able to pick up a couple bits and pieces but it was hard to truly understand him.

He gave a huff then ran away from you, doing that precious run. Your shoulders shook with laughter at his antics. If he was trying to cheer you up, he sure did it.

Your hand rested on your profound belly and softly rubbed the stretched skin. Fourta was slightly concerned on how big your stomach had stretched to accommodate your growing kid. She first thought it was twins, but a quick scan only showed one heartbeat. Big and mighty. Just like their father.

Her biggest concern was the birthing process. Despite every Yautja striving for a vaginal birth, for the safety of you and your child, a Cesarean section would be the best option for you.

Of course, it’s up to you if you would like to process down this road. Getting cut open and your baby pulled out doesn’t fit with your dread of birthing them. You wanted to hold them, cradle them close, be the first one they see. And the healing process afterwards. Everything would be left to Gawtin, more than usual. At least for a month, you would be useless. You had time to think. Every second was used.

A shadow cast over your form. With a hum, you titled your head up and was met with the gaze of Gawtin. There stood your goddess adorned in casual clothing nearly like your own, except the bra holding up your grown breasts. More stretch marks lined the skin there. Your body sensed as if your baby was large and needed a heavy supply.

In her arms was Qui’oky, a moss green blob with short, maroon tresses. He began to blabber nonsense to his mother. She responded as if she understood every word that fell from his mandibles. Then, Gawtin lowered herself to her haunches, still holding her little one. One of her hands rested on your knee. “Would you like for me to run you a bath?” she questioned, eyes soft as they gazed at you.

You smiled at her. “If you can peel me off of this couch, then I will happily accept your offer,” you jestered with a light laugh. Her own upper mandibles raised at your comment.

“Your wish is my command.” The green giant offered her arm for you to grapple onto. To which, you did with a firm grasp. As she stood back up, she pulled you along for the ride, eyes observing your entire movement. Once you were settled back on your feet, she guided you carefully to the bathroom, taking every stride at your pace.

If you were to ever move from this place, you would demand a tub like this to be in place. It was larger than an average hot tub, which was perfect for both you and Gawtin to fit in comfortably. The nudeness of the two of has long been a forgotten bother. Bgiwl drove the disgust and terror out of your system long before you met Gawtin. Gawtin has helped further.

Though before, you were grossed out by all your stretch marks appearing, they were a sign your baby was growing healthy and strong. Same with how large your belly has gotten. Your growing child was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

Gawtin settled you on a ledge under the water. The perfect temperature to fight off the ever-growing soreness that has woven its way into your very bones. “I will return,” she explained before spinning on her heel and taking her leave. You were saddened to see her go.

When she returned the room, it was without Oky. Every step she took towards the tub, a piece of clothing was stripped from her body. At the edge, she was fully naked like yourself. Gawtin carefully lowered herself into the calming waters. Then, the Yautja picked you up from your spot, took it as her own, and deposited you in her lap.

This time, you have your back to her torso, head leaned back to expose your throat. Your eyes fluttered shut as you go lax against the other mother. Her hands rested on your hips, thumbs running over the newly created bumps. There wasn’t enough coconut butter to save your body from the marks it has received. You reached above your head and carded your hands together behind her neck. The Yautja purred slightly and ran her hand up your side, gaining a shutter from you.

“There’s never enough words for me to show you my appreciation,” you uttered softly. Without her, you would be completely lost, even before learning about this pregnancy.

Bgiwl’s death still hurts, it forever will. But that hole he left was slowly being healed by Gawtin. Her presence, her words. Everything about her was healing. She filled what needed to be complete. You needed her more than she would ever know.

With your eyes shut, you felt her head shake. “There is no need.” That earned a huff from you. The hand petting your side left the skin there to softly grasp at your throat. Her thumb rubbed along your pulse, feeling it flutter like bird wings. “I told you in the beginning, I would be here for you. I am a Yautja of my word. I will stay. Through thick and thin.”

A whine built up in the back of your throat, eyes opening to stare at the blank ceiling. You shifted in her lap, still in slight discomfort. It was one growing for a while but you didn’t know how to relieve it. Your hands trembled, on the verge of rubbing at your tender breasts but stilled before making yourself a fool. You couldn’t do that in front of her!

Yet, the discomfort never vanished. It only grew worse even in the warm water shrouding you. You groaned and body your head with shame, doing everything in your power not to rub at them.

Your body was picked up and turned around to be chest to chest Gawtin. Green hands cupped your face and forced your head up again. You wouldn’t met her eyes. Not with the heat blazing to life beneath your cheeks.

“Your breasts, they hurt. Do they not?” Gawtin asked, as if reading your mind. You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded to the best of your ability. She understood. Gawtin hummed and let a hand drift down to rest on top of your collarbone. “If you consent, I can help relieve you of the pressure. My own would ache before the suckling came. My second to last one was the worse. A giant suckling too. Needed every last drop.”

The palm of her hand was incredibly warm against your skin that it was making it hard to say no. You should. You really should. No one’s touched you since… since Bgiwl. And this… this would damn you.

“What would that entail?” you returned, eyes wide and finally meeting hers. There wasn’t an ounce of judgment within them. Just understanding and something else you couldn’t pick up on.

Her hand didn’t move but her claws flexed, creating indents in your feeble skin. “I would help push the milk out. You are in pain from the pressure build up.” You knew she wouldn’t dumb it down. Most Yautjas don’t beat around the bush and just get it out. No reason too. It wastes precious time, especially in a hunt.

Your eyes still jumped wide. “Like-like a cow?!” Her explanation did make sense but… it felt wrong to do that. Yet, to ease your pain? The pressure was bothersome that just rubbing or using hot water couldn’t solve.

“I do not know what that is. Would you like me to?” Gawtin still offered to you, letting you have the chance to deny her. It was all up to you.

You gnawed at your bottom lip then glanced down at your swollen breasts. It sounded both alien and heaven sent to have her relieve you of this annoying pain. You pushed down your nerves then raised your head to find her purple irises. “Okay. Just, just be gentle. They really hurt,” you relented, inhaling a shaky breath.

“If you are worried about waste, if you would like, I can bottle it up?” Gawtin offered as well. That got you thinking. Yet, if your body is producing this much before you have given birth, you will be fine. You shook your head in denial. “Okay. Remember, you control this. If you want me to stop, say so. It is your choice after all.” You could help the way your body nearly sagged against her due to her words. She was a blanket of safety you’ve been craving for a long time now.

“Please.”

A calloused but softened from water hand first engulfed the entirety of one of your swollen breasts. You flinched at first but we’re swift to nodded your head to encourage her. Your bottom lip was trapped between dull teeth, eyes fluttering shut in reaction. The hand still on your face pinched your chin. “Open your eyes, pretty little thing. Need to see those eyes.”

Instantly, the room felt ten times hotter.

“Keep-keep going,” you begged with a shaky voice that didn’t portray confidence, but it was enough.

The first squeeze had you choking on your own breath. Your nipples highly sensitive. Beads of white milk dribbled out and rolled down the curve of your under boob. “Oh, fuck.” She ate up your noises like sweet treats. Some beads collected on her hand. She released her hold and brought her hand up. With her long, skinny tongue, she licked off the milk. You watched the way her pupils widened, turning black before her eyes.

Before you had a chance, Gawtin picked you up and placed you on the tubs ledge. She stood between you open legs, head closer to your chest. “Let me taste you. You won’t be in pain anymore.” If you didn’t know better, she was begging. She wouldn’t ever admit being as prideful as she is. All you could do was nod your head rapidly.

This time, both hands found their spot on your breasts. One squeezed again. You found her shoulders to be your anchor and groaned. The giant leaned her head in, tongue darting out and licking up a stripe to catch the drop. The roughness of her tongue laved over your nipple. You moan, legs spreading wider to accommodate her size. She was more than happy to eat what space you offered to her.

You slightly knocked out of the moment when her fangs opened close to your teat. She felt your body tense up and stopped before her mouth was too close. “Ease, little ooman. I will not hurt. Just taste.” You took a deep breath in and nodded to allow her to continue. She took it to heart.

With her mouth awaiting, she pinched your boob again. More milk was released with the extra force. She was quick to lick up the spilled milk. “G-Gawtin,” you moaned her name, body growing warmer.

It was onto the next teat. Your hips rutted down on the tiled floor dragging against nothing, not gaining any friction. You released another soft cry, nails digging into her shoulders as more was drawn from your nipples, drinking from you like a spring stream.

She may not be able to suckle. Yet, the way she messaged your swollen breasts, each given the same treatment every passing minute was heaven sent. Your bottom lip growing heavy until you could only pant and writhe in her hold. She drank from you, easing up your pain with gentle caresses.

The longer this drew on, the more clouded your brain grew. It made it hard to think, of anything more than just her sipping away at your milk.

The entirety of your body was on fire. Every nerve a lit anew. You’re buzzing with energy and ready for more. You tilt your head up with a pleasing gaze. “More,” you begged and canted your hips downwards, grinding against nothing but air. All the while, Gawtin watched and consumed in rapture. Your milk sweet on her tongue. She became greedy for more, pushing more out to swallow down her throat. “Please.” You were going to be the death of her.

Her hand not actively pulling your nectar out found its way to your hip, claws biting at your skin. If possible, you shuffled your thighs more open, inviting that hand to find your twitching clit. You knew she had to smell your arousal thick in the air.

A spike of frustration hit you. You snatched her wrist and forced it between your legs to ease the new, growing ache she created. “Touch me.” With the dizzy effect she caused you from just sucking your breasts, you were mindless and acting on instinct for the pleasure building up inside.

Gawtin was quick to act. Her thick digits rubbing circles around your puffy, swollen clit. You moaned out and leaned forward, head resting on her broad shoulders, back arch slightly due to you belly. A combination of water and your growing slick dripped down from the insides of your thighs. It didn’t take long for Gawtin to make you a hot, sticky, sweaty mess in the palm of her hands.

At first, you tried to get on your knees to allow her more access to your slick cunt. Yet, Gawtin forced you onto your back and pinned you there. Her mouth refused to leave its spot latched onto your nipples. Her hand continued to rub tight circles around your clit, drawing out moans. Your hands clawed at the tiled floor, unable to find a lick of purchase anywhere.

Your hips lifted off of the wet floor and grinded down on her hand. She growled in reaction and sent vibrations up your sensitive nipples that had you seeing stars. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried out, scrambling for an anchor but coming empty handed at Gawtin’s mercy.

All of your muscles locked down tight, more slicky drippling down to stain the floor and your thighs. Gawtin did everything in her power to draw your orgasm out, drowning in the very pleasure you begged for. Gulping down every drop of milk you produce, Gawtin soothed the ache in your breasts.

Your back relaxed to the floor while you laid there as a twitching mess. Your eyes drifted shut, chest heaving with each deep breath. A groan sounded from your drained body. Gawtin purred above you and gave each other your nipples a cleaning lick before pulling off.

“You have given me a taste, Treasure. Now, I will be hungry for more,” she growled while trailing her fangs across your skin up to your ear. You whimpered underneath her, back arching up again.

After caressing the shell of your ear, she pulled back to peered down at your lax form. “How do you feel?” her voice rumbled from deep within her chest. You cracked up your eyes to find her still hovering above you. One of her arms holding her weight by your head.

“Fucking amazing,” you breathed out. She laughed, shoulders shaking with the movement. With her free hand, she caressed with the back of her hand your cheekbone. “Anytime you want to do that, I will not deny you that.”

“Good. Your milk is so sweet and delicious. It would be hard to part with it after gulping it down.” Her free hand slid down to your emptier breasts and gave each a light squeeze.

“God, they feel so sensitive.”

“How long have they ached? I am surprised you had not done anything to relieve the pressure sooner. They were quite full,” she asked and swiped off a bead of milk that had been freed. Her tongue licked it off of her thumb.

All you did was shrug. “Probably for a couple of weeks. To be honest, I didn’t know if I could.” Again, this pregnancy was completely new to you. You didn’t know what you were doing.

“Oh, sweet ooman. From now on, if they ached, just a little bit, let me know.” She leaned down and got into your face. “I will be more than happy to relieve that ache.”

Fuck yourself twice. Your clit throbbed against your will at her words washing over you. To have this massive Yautja more than willing to drink you dry as your will was something you didn’t know you liked. But now, you could check that heavily on your list.

“I will allow free access to them.” A growl pierced the air. One of her mandibles twitched.

“I would not offer that up so freely, little ooman. You do not know what you are giving up.” You looked her straight in the eye.

“Take what you want.” Though, they were softened from the lack of milk, Gawtin found a different spot to drink from.

[licorice-tea]

Hi, could you write Roronoa zoro with prompt D? Thank you in advance 🌹

I Just Wanna Dance (With You)

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x reader

Content: dancing, one or two mentions of drinking, zoro is down bad for reader, gender nuetral reader, reader wears jewelry, some platonic robin & zoro (sibling vibes), fluffy little drabble :0

Word Count: 0.5k

A/N: I made this short and sweet since I still have a lot of requests to get too, and i also tried to interpret the prompt in a new/different way so hopefully you like it anon! ty for requesting <3

The Strawhats are throwing a party- what’s new? Sanji is getting extravagant mouth watering dishes out onto plates at record speed while Brook cycles through crew favorites and new tunes.

Zoro doesn’t always know what to do with himself during events like these. Sure, the feeling of triumph after saving a town from whatever disaster has come there way is always enjoyable, but besides drinking…. not much else to do.

Besides watch you, of course. You’re always the life of the party through his eyes. That’s what it must mean to be the life of the party: to have people’s eyes so naturally drawn to you, even when you’re just jumping and twirling around screaming song lyrics like every other person on the dance floor. And Zoro’s eyes always land on you, at some point or another, so he’s always thought of you as the “life of the party” type.

As he’s lost in the sight and thoughts of you, Zoro feels a tap on his left shoulder. He looks to the left and sees no one. “Are you going to ask them to dance?” comes a voice from his right. He quickly turns to his right to see Robin, smirking at how he fell for her little prank.

Zoro shrugs, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hm. A word of advice, swordsman; watching and waiting won’t get you anywhere. Espescially not with y/n,” she smiles softly, “I love them, but they’re not going to pick up on all your… subtlety.”

“Hmph. Okay.”

Robin offers another smile and pats his shoulder reassuringly, at which Zoro glares and shrugs her off in the same way a brother would with his doting older sister. He downs the rest of his glass and gets up.

Zoro tries to find you, as he walks onto the dance floor, but he finds it was easier keeping an eye on you from a distance than it is between at least a hundred other people. He becomes lost in the crowd, consistently getting turned around and blinded by flashes of sparkly clothing as he searches for you. But he knows you’re somewhere near the center, so he resolves to keep pushing through. Finally, he sees you in all your joyful, rhythmic, glory. You’re just one star among the many tonight, but you somehow remain brighter than any other. The way you spin with your hands in the air makes it so any and all light reflects off your jewelry and eyes, and he is obsessed.

Despite getting pushed and shoved by the other party goers, Zoro stays rooted in place as he looks at you. Eventually he pulls himself out of his trance (once enough people have cursed at him for not moving), and takes a few steps forward until he’s standing right behind you. His hand catches your waist, and you gasp as you look over your shoulder to see who it is. When your eyes meet, you smile at him, and Zoro smiles back.

“Want to dance?”

[vixstarria]

So, in light of the recent uproar concerning Wyll's lack of content, I've started writing some Wyll/Astarion/Tav smut.

I'm afraid it's turning into a full on comedy, for better or for worse.

Here, have an excerpt:

“Really...?” Wyll breathed a shaky laugh. “I thought we would start with some baby steps. Maybe a kiss..?”  “No, no darling...” Tav cooed. “Don’t be silly. Kissing is way too intimate. Just lick his balls for now.” 

Will hopefully post tomorrow or the day after.

Stay tuned, let me know if you want to be tagged.

*finger guns*

[drewsbuzzcut]

You’re The One

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

A ‘The Masterminds’ fic

Warnings: mentions sex and nerves but I think that’s all

Takes place February 2024

Lyla rocks back and forth on the heels of her feet, the small bouquet of flowers burning in her hands. She feels the oncoming wave of nerves drown out all her senses. She hasn’t physically seen Jeremy in about a week, so she’s both excited and nervous to surprise him. Hopefully he’s not bothered by her showing up unexpectedly. The girl is also trying to stay hidden amongst the other significant others and families waiting for the players to exit the locker room.

“Lyla?” She hears Jeremy’s voice behind her, quickly turning around with a shy smile on her face.

“Hi!” She squeaks, cheekbones popping up to cause her eyes to crinkle.

Jeremy gives her a similar, elated smile. His mouth is agape as he tries to come up with the right words to convey his happiness.

“What are you doing here?” He wraps a hand around her waist, pulling her in. They both lean in for a kiss, but at the last minute move in for just a hug.

Lyla’s arms wrap around his waist and his wrap around her neck. He slides his fingers through her hair, his hand settling on the back of her neck. She can feel her heart thump against her ribcage, and the butterflies roam freely when the warmth coming from his hands seeps into her skin.

“I wanted to surprise you. I missed you while I was gone,” she whispers, head tilted back as she stares up at him. Her long eyelashes kiss her cheeks the same way Jeremy wishes he could.

“I missed you,” he stares at her so warmly, his smile being ear-to-ear and eyes shining with an emotion Lyla’s never seen before.

They pull away, but still hold onto each other. Lyla lightly scratches at his scruff, a small giggle falling from her lips as he presses a swift kiss to her wrist. Her cheeks heat up, body reacting viscerally to his touch. Their eyes communicate in ways that allow them to enjoy their small bubble of silence.

Unbeknownst to the pair, Linus watches their interaction. A smile graces his face looking at his best friend so happy. It’s not a rare sight to see Jeremy bubbly, but this is different. He looks like he’s falling in love. Jeremy’s hands stay planted on her waist as they stare adoringly at each other. Linus takes one last glance at them, witnessing Lyla giving Jeremy a bouquet of flowers. He walks away knowing his best friend is in good hands.

“Oh! I almost forgot, but these are for you,” Lyla hands Jeremy the flowers.

His cheeks get impossibly red when he accepts them.

“Lyla. These are so nice. I- I don’t know what to say. Thank you,” he pulls her into another hug, this one bigger and more bone crushing but she loves it nonetheless.

“Of course. I just wanted to get you some since you got some for me for Valentine’s Day. Which was such a sweet gesture. I hope you’re okay with flowers, though,” she leans up on her tiptoes and whispers in his ear, arms still wrapped around him.

“I love the flowers, baby. Thank you,” he presses a tender kiss to her cheek.

“I missed you so much,” she stresses, not caring if anyone sees her pull him into a kiss.

“I missed you. Do you want to spend the night with me?” He mumbles against her lips, smiling contently as she continues to kiss on cheek and jawline.

“I’d really like that,” she presses herself closer to him, his hands rubbing on her back.

-

“You’re so beautiful,” Jeremy whispers, lips roaming Lyla’s skin like a road he’s never been on before, but yearns to explore.

His hand is placed on her throat as he works his way down her body. Chills swarm her skin and pleasure fills her veins. She’s naked under his naked body, the morning sunlight filtering through the linen curtains and highlighting their afterglow. Morning sex truly is the best thing to ever exist, especially when it’s with Jeremy. Lyla is pleasantly surprised with how in tune Jeremy is with her body. It’s as if he’s been worshiping her his entire life.

“J,” she sighs, eyes batting at him in a way that makes him want to tease her. It makes him want to hear her beg.

“What, baby?” He presses a kiss on her hip before moving to her other and pressing a soft kiss on her butterfly tattoo.

“Kiss me,” she runs her fingers through his soft hair.

His lips travel up her torso, causing a spark to ignite in her core. She can’t get enough of him.

Jeremy hovers over her, nose gently nudging hers and their eyelashes flutter against each other’s skin. Lyla grabs his cheeks, her thumbs rubbing over the softness of his face. He flips them over, laughing as she squeals in surprise. Her face fits perfectly in the crook of his neck, just as much as the way her leg drapes over his hips.

Jeremy takes a moment to close his eyes and just take everything in. Lyla’s breasts are pressed to his chest and he can feel her steady heartbeat. Her fingers softly trace each bruise on his chest.

She leans up, finally sealing their mouths together. Her head tilts sideways, his lips parting to welcome her tongue. She lets out the most dainty whimper when his tongue tangles with hers. She can still taste herself on him.

Her breath catches in her throat when his teeth tug on her kiss-swollen, bottom lip. Pulling away, their lips are red and glistening. Their eyes are half-lidded and their breath mingles. He thumbs at her pout, smiling at the way she pecks his finger.

“Lyla?”

She hums in response.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He grows shy, eyes flitting between hers and her heaving chest. Time seems to slow as he awaits her answer. He can clearly hear the thumping of his heart, and he wonders if she can hear it as well.

She intertwines their fingers, turning their joined hands to press a kiss to the back of his. She then presses kisses along his cheeks and his nose.

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend,” she states, pulling her body to be fully on top of his.

They stare at each other, basking in their happiness. Jeremy flips them over again, this time he’s the one to settle into her body. His cock strains against her thigh and that dizzying passion grips their bodies, and they find themselves rolling around in the sheets for a second time that morning.

a/n: They’re official! I will be starting on the piece where people can hear/see Jeremy in the background of Lyla’s videos, so stay tuned.

I am also working on something else that’s cute and sweet, so hopefully that will be out soon.

After that, I will be starting the mastermind angst

[faroreskiss]

Harp Lesson (+18)

MINORS DNI

Summary: You had enough of your instrument, and you wanted to try out his. How could you have said no when he offered?

AKA Link teaches you "techniques".

Pedal Harpist!Link x Fem!Reader (Sky x Reader)

Read the collection in Ao3

A/N: This is tagged as both LU and Skyward Sword Link, as I imagine them to have the same personality.

This story was born after a long inspirational chat with @pinkalmondcake about imagining the Chain in different roles in an orchestra! (From a piano technician to a pedal harpist...), which for now we are calling the LU Music/Musician AU, but who knows :D Stay tuned for more content!

Also big thanks to @beyondtheglowingstars for having a first look at it and the feedback!

Also tagging you guys because after seeing your content I think you'd enjoy this (hopefully) @chainsofgoldandash @chain-link-smut Duet mentioned: Saint-Saëns, Fantaisie for Violin & Harp, Op. 124 — Camerata Pacifica

You were in the practice wing of the conservatory, trying to play the latest piece that was prepared for the upcoming concert that was planned. The sounds were just not coming out as clean anymore as you were trying to keep yourself focused. 

Being the principal first violin, or the “concertmaster” as they called it, was absolutely making you feel the pressure. Not like the orchestra was that big, it was a chamber orchestra, a bit of an odd one perhaps due to its composition. You had both a harpist AND a concert pianist, for starters. And they all had the same name… Link.

Inner base of your left index finger started to hurt, did you start to hold the violin wrong all of a sudden? You sighed as you gave up and held your violin like a guitar, deciding to pizzicato the rest instead. It also counted as practice, right? As you plucked the strings according to the sheet of music in front of you, your mind wandered once again. Plucking… Each time you put your violin in that position and timidly pulled at the strings, you were reminded of him again. The quiet, kind boy with the full lips and calloused hands, sitting in front of the harp, carefully trailing his hands along the strings, like he was lost in a dream. You really wanted to try playing it some day. 

Link… You of course found out later that he was as gremlin-like as one could get, despite his calm and quiet appearance. You would have never thought he was the one that brought the whole chandelier down at the Lumpy Pumpkin years ago, because he “totally had to get that thing up top”. 

Well, neither of you were in Skyloft anymore, and not even on the surface you both were familiar with. And not even THAT long after he defeated Demise, he was ripped apart from all he knew, somehow trailing also you along. But that is a story for another time. 

“(Y/N)?” you heard a soft voice calling for you, jolting you away from your preoccupations. It was him, right outside the door. 

“Oh, hey,” you said absentmindedly. 

"Hey," Link replied, with the warmest smile that always seemed to put you at ease.

You couldn't help but admire how he had a knack for making even the most awkward situations feel comfortable. The atmosphere in the practice room seemed to shift as he walked in, a warm and pleasant energy filling the space.

He glanced at your violin and chuckled softly. "Having a bit of trouble?"

You nodded, still lost in thought. Of course, at this point he knew when and why you would switch to constant pizzicato. "Yeah, it's just not coming out the way I want it to. I can't seem to concentrate,”

Link took a seat nearby, his sky-blue eyes focused on your instrument. "Maybe you need a break,“ he seemed hesitant to continue to his next sentence, but regardless, he spoke up. “How about that duet we talked about a while ago? It might help you relax perhaps."

You perked up at the idea. "Oh, right! Yes, of course… Uhm… “ Your left hand was feeling quite tired at this point, since you pressed on the initial joint way too much. Probably you messed up the technique between the sea of distractions you had. His presence was not helping. 

He felt as if he said something wrong, from your reaction and suddenly his body language shifted to nervousness. 

“Uh, it’s okay if you don’t feel like it right now,” he said, slowly starting to rise from the seat he took. A sudden panic took over you, that’s not what you meant!

“No, no! I want to!” you said, your voice was a bit of a higher pitch than you expected. “I just had enough of my instrument right now,” you raised the violin, holding it with two hands upside down, pretending as if you are about to crush it on the floor, making a chuckle escape from Link. 

“But you know what, I've always wanted to try the harp a little, never had the chance," you said, but then bit your lip. You weren’t sure if he would let you touch it at all, since it was a gift from his precious Zelda. “But it’s okay if-”

A faint smile touched Link's lips as he interrupted you "Well, today's your lucky day. I can show you the basics if you'd like."

You felt a surge of excitement as you nodded eagerly. "I'd love that!"

He got up and led over to the harp in another practice room, its elegant strings shimmering in the soft light of the room. You joined him, your curiosity piqued as he explained the fundamentals, his hands gently guiding yours to pluck the strings, as he made you sit down in front of it. It was a beautiful pedal harp. He also pulled another stool near yours, though he would sometimes lift himself a bit up from it to show you the technique.

“There, I already set up the pedals for you.” 

He showed you how to slightly tilt it towards your right shoulder and there was a moment awkward yet sweet, where you panicked and thought the harp was just going to crush you. Though for some reason, when you heard you don’t need to use your pinky (which was pretty much your enemy while playing the violin), you seemed to have forgotten about the 35 kg instrument that was leaning on you as you screamed “Praise Farore!”

He was used to you being goofy one moment and panicky the next. The hearty laugh he let out made your heart melt. 

“You need to have straight shoulders and a straight back, okay?” he started instructing you.

“Like that?” Apparently you were still slouching a bit, letting the instrument actually almost crush you.

He cranked a little grin, seemingly innocent as he spoke. “Let me show you again…”

As you both leaned over the harp, you couldn't help but feel a growing closeness. The gentle touch of his fingers sometimes brushing on yours accidentally sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. It was as if the basic notes you were playing together was a reflection of the unspoken connection between you.

Link continued to guide you through the basics, his breath warm against your ear as he explained each step. The sensation of his presence, so close and comforting, made your heart race. You were entirely focused on the harp, the music, and Link. Just watching his fingers pluck on those strings, sliding between them as if it had been the most natural thing he had ever done in his life, producing divine tunes... It reminded you of your dream last night instead, the dream of the sounds that he coaxed out of you, as he played idly with the strings of your thong while he was on top of you, his tongue trailing your neck. A soft blush was creeping through your cheeks. You weren’t going to learn anything if this kept on.

“(Y/N)? You there? You gotta have your thumb up, okay?” you were once again jolted back to reality. You were glad he didn’t have a direct view of your face, but he must have still noticed how absentminded you looked. Shit, you didn’t want to be disrespectful, you were enjoying this. Though you couldn’t deny that your fingers were hurting…

“Y-yes, sorry, can you show me the last part again, please?” 

Unintentionally, as he leaned in to show you a particular technique, his chest brushed against your back, and his arms wrapped around you, cradling yours as his hands rested on the strings. There was a little pause. Your breath was stuck on your throat.

“You have to sit a little bit more upright, like this,” he broke the silence which felt like an eternity. He was still so close to your ear. His right hand pressed gently on your lower back and his left hand was pressed in the opposite direction on your bust, as he gently guided you back into the correct posture. It was a motion which should have just fixed your slouch, yet his hand was lingering a little bit too long on the front. 

“And relax your shoulders… It should only be your elbow that’s moving…”

You both froze for a moment, feeling the sudden closeness. His heart thudded against your back, mirroring the rhythm of yours.

"Sorry," he murmured, pulling back slightly. "I didn't mean to..."

Despite his innocent tone, you had a gut feeling that it was almost entirely deliberate.

You turned back to him, still close but within a respectable distance, and your gazes locked. You could see pink creeping up on his cheeks, if only slightly. You just wanted to make sure.

“It’s okay,” you softly spoke, your gaze lingering between his full lips and his cerulean eyes. 

That was most likely the sentence he needed to hear.

He noticed that you bit your lip as your eyes darted between one spot and the other. It almost felt as if he was holding back a smirk, yet he was still careful and polite with his reactions. Noticing the stray hair threatening to dangle in front of your face, he gently tucked it away behind your ear. As his fingers grazed your cheek, you marveled at the sheer willpower it took to stifle a gasp.

Was he sitting a bit closer now? And what was that look?

Now to think of it, did he ever need to sit right behind you like this to teach the instrument anyway?

His hand was still on your cheek, lingering a bit longer than necessary.

Witnessing his gradually fading ability to conceal his response, you suddenly felt bold.

You scooted even closer, he was almost pulling his hand back, but you put your hand on it decisively, feeling the warmth of his hand over your cheek. 

In the next moment, what parted was not the distance between, but your lips instead as the gap between you closed with a soft kiss. 

As your lips met, even though it was a gentle, feather-light touch, you could feel his lust through it, the sensation tender yet hungry. You instinctively moved your hands towards the nape of his neck, as he still held your cheek. 

But he stopped you, moved your hands away and held them on your lap, and grinning into the almost broken kiss the entire time. You were slightly taken aback. 

He was still staring at your lips while you were trying to still process what just happened. You were wondering how he was able to even break the kiss like that, second guessing your decision. Screaming and panicking inside.

He cleared his throat and composed himself, looking all serious suddenly once more. You could also see he was all red, and you could swear his heart was beating almost as fast as yours. Your almost trembling lips made an “O” shape to almost say something.

“Shall we continue?” He interrupted you, with a professional tone. He didn’t even wait for your reply, he stood up and pulled the older stool away. Instead, he got another chair, and moved it adjacent to your stool.

Directly behind. 

“Turn around?” He spoke in a tone that sent a warm feeling towards your center. 

Oh Gods. So that’s what we are doing? Okay…

“Let’s continue from this part here, can you try strumming again as I showed you?”

“Alright…” you were finally able to get a word out. He sat down on the chair, and his body was in direct contact with yours. So warm… You weren’t sure whether or not it was your heartbeat or his that you were feeling. You gulped.

You tried to strum for dear life, but it didn’t even sound like you were able to get a proper sound out. His mouth was so near your ear as he was humming the basic rhythm you were supposed to practice in, his arms were now resting on your lap as he rounded them around your waist. How did you end up here? The nerves were going to be the end of you.

“Nuh-uh, not like that, just relax… okay?” he said as he snaked his fingers away and this time put them on each of your arms and gently caressed them as he kept speaking to your ear, making them come back to your lap.

“Relax your arms a little bit, I mean…” 

He then guided your hands once again to the harp, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand on it. 

“Like that?” you asked, looking for some feedback as your voice trembled a bit.

“Mm-hmm, keep playing” he whispered to the tip of your ear again, as he moved his hands back towards your waist, his fingers trailing down towards your thighs, making little circles on them as he went nearer and nearer towards your center. 

Though your initial reaction was to freeze, his words and actions were also helping you at least to relax your posture, though he wasn’t letting you break the form either, pressing himself onto your back each time you dared to slouch. 

“Like this?” You pressed back as you spoke like a whimper, feeling something growing, making contact with your bottom, feeling his, and perhaps your own heartbeat rising even more. A silent low groan escaped from his lips without him intending to, in which you had the honor of being the “first ear” audience. 

You really wanted to rub your legs together, because an itch that can only be scratched a particular way was also growing. You couldn’t, lest you break form.

His hand slowly lifted the hem of your tunic dress a bit further, since it was already a bit up from the way you were sitting. Your legs were already spread to accommodate a proper position with the big pedal harp, after all. 

You didn’t make a peep.

He put chin on your shoulder, right next to your head, as his hand snaked down under the dress a bit more, and he kept speaking with that low, almost growling tone.

“There is one more thing I want to show you, if that’s okay?” spoken so innocently like a whisper, with only a tinge of mischief in his tone. 

“Y-yeah?” you barely got out.

He spoke so virtuously, indeed. Almost as if his hand wasn’t exactly on your underwear, making light circles over it with his feather-like touch that sent all your nerves screaming. Screaming for more contact, more pressure.

He could absolutely feel how swollen you were under the cotton-fabric as his fingers traced over it. And you could feel his breath also quickening, becoming more uneven yet more and more in sync with yours. 

His lips were trailing your neck and his other hand found and grabbed one of your breasts, caressing it through your dress. Those full lips, oh Goddesses, they felt so good even on your neck as they moved from one sensitive spot to another. 

Especially when he pressed you to himself, as he held you from one breast with his left hand, and grabbed you from your throbbing center with his right. 

You were still holding back that moan, desperately trying to pluck on the strings, thinking this magical moment could end the moment you stopped.

Oh your fingers were going to totally blister later, you did have some calluses on your fingers, but there was no way you could have the ones that a harpist would have. 

But as he trailed his calloused hand slowly up to your stomach and then back down, this time sliding his hand into your underwear and directly on the bundle of nerves that you desperately needed contact on… There was almost no more fight left in you. The harp was pressing on to his hand and his hand was pressing on your clit.

You let out a relieved sigh. The way his fingers callused, it felt even better than you expected.

But his hand wasn’t moving. 

“Mmmm… Very good, keep going, pluck the G string, make sure your wrist is slightly bent in…” he urged you to still try to play the fucking harp with that sultry tone. Each time you tried to pluck the harp, you were feeling even the subtlest vibration from the big instrument. 

Your heart was in your ears, all your blood was rushing south, you were instinctively trying to move from where you are sitting, just to get more pressure, more movement. He was merciful for a moment, his middle and ring finger did a couple of circling motions exactly where and how  you needed it. That was it, you did let out that moan. You could hear him lightly chuckling. 

He continued his instructions however. “Now, spread your legs a little bit more… for me?” There was a tiny bit of hesitation on the last part, as if he wanted to make sure once again that it’s alright to continue. How could you deny his request, when he had you right where you wanted him to? You could of course only oblige. His soft yet almost demanding voice left you hypnotized. 

As you spread your legs a little bit more, he pulled the chair a bit more back, along with you, and created a bit of a distance between you two and the harp. You could feel his dick pressing on you even more with each movement. You were surprised at his self constraint. From your point of view, he should have just taken you. 

“Link…” you spoke his name almost as if you were begging. The way you said his name definitely had an effect on him. But he shushed you. Though you could hear him gulp. Gods… How did he end up with his hand on your wet sex?

“Sssh, we are here for a lesson, aren’t we?” he whispered to your ear again. He took his hand from inside your underwear and brought his middle finger near your mouth. 

“Lick it.” he said firmly this time, with no hesitation. He was focused on his goal. You took his finger between your lips as if it was some other body part of him, and you made sure to make him understand that with the way you licked the tip and sucked the whole finger in, you gave him the full show, as much as you could. 

“Very good,” he almost hissed to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe just a little bit. His now wet finger went back down to where it was, this time back of his hand raising your underwear like a tent.

“Now… Here is another technique…” he said with a dark tone. His middle finger slid down, feeling almost proud after noticing how wet you are, and dipped it inside you just briefly, and brushed it up and down all over your sex, especially focusing on your clit. You gasped. With his index and ring fingers, he pulled the skin over your clit only a tiny bit up, keeping the hood intact. As his fingers were holding your clit in a place he wanted, he plucked on the tip of your slippery clitoral hood with his middle finger, slick with your juices.

“Ah…” was the only sound you could get out. As you pressed and pushed yourself to him after each of his plucks, his other hand on your breast would sometimes pinch your nipple. His kisses on your neck would get momentarily rougher. He would gently bite your ear lobes. He would make sure to dip his finger into you (sometimes two or three), to make sure everything stayed perfectly wet. As moments passed, the plucks became teasing presses, and then finally became proper rubs.  

“You are doing so well for me…” he would whisper sometimes, as your breath hitched, chasing your high, trying to adjust yourself on his fingers.

You just drank the essence of his tone in, because at that point the only thing you knew was that he was determined to make you cream his fingers. He couldn’t know what you exactly liked, but he was sure able to ask for it in the perfect way.

“You like it here…” he would ask, moving his middle and index finger to spot, “...or there?” he would ask again, moving them into a bit more direct contact instead. As your orgasm built up, the way you wanted him to touch you also changed.

Once he made you jump because he touched it too directly. “Oops…” he said as he peppered your neck with kisses, as if each one said “sorry”. He kept massaging that one breast again, and you helped him move his hand into a position you liked before.

Your panties were already gone at that point.

“More…ah… pressure…” you moaned between your pants. 

He could only do as you said. 

Oh his touch was magic.

But the fact that he listened and obliged turned you on as much as the way he was able to pluck his way through your center. 

Your legs were shuddering and shaking as he kept rubbing your clit exactly as you wanted, sometimes his fingers dipping in and out between your slick folds. 

“Yes, Oh Gods, Link…” you were so close, SO close. 

“Mmm-hm…” you could hear he was also getting impatient. His breath was still on your neck, his other hand was under your tunic just kneading your breast roughly as he liked, he started whispering things to your ears that you would have never thought could come from that innocent looking Link. 

“Let go for me (Y/N)... Come for me.” he would keep whispering in repeat as you were on the last leg to your climax.

“Show me how you come… Come on you beautiful thing…” It felt like he would say anything to coax you into your release. Then you’ll be all ready for me.. He also thought but didn’t say out loud yet.

The tight feeling that had been building in your stomach, the one that made your legs and body tremble, was finally about to reach its crescendo. 

You were whimpering his name between the continuous mumbles and mewls of “Please” and “Keep going”. 

With the last flick of his finger on your clit, he pinched a nipple with the other and sucked on your earlobe with his plump and gorgeous lips, while trying to hold you back from falling down. You reached your limit.

“Good girl…” he purred into your ear. 

It all crashed as the sweet sweet embrace of the overstimulation and orgasm washed over you as your insides contracted, you felt like an arrow getting released from a tight strung bow. You saw white.

As he noticed your sensitivity, Link pulled his hand away from there. You turned and straddled him, as you were still panting from your post orgasm bliss, and pulled him into a deep, open mouthed kiss. Not letting him speak. 

Determined the devour the soft plump lips you always adored,

But Link? He wasn’t done yet.

[thunderxleafart]

Hey y'all! :D Now that the holiday madness has died down, I finally managed to finish this off!

It seemed only fitting to draw the twins enjoying the Christmas season, since I adore those lil buggers so much, but it looks like they have a friend with them this time around! ;D

That's right, it's good ol' Edward! Honestly I love most of the characters from Thomas (especially the model series), but Edward definitely earns a special place in my heart along with those cheeky little twins. Plus I will always have a soft spot for the father/son bond he seems to have with the twins. ;; It's just so wholesome! And you bet Edward is one of the only engines the twins will never play tricks on, cause he genuinely respects and looks out for them, so they respect him right back. :D Wholesomeness all around!

Just some wholesome train content for y'all as we close out 2023 and head into the New Year! <3

I spent a lot longer on this than I'm willing to admit LOL but after everything, I'm still pretty darn happy with how it came out! Backgrounds are a pain as always but I'm still pretty darn happy with how it all came together in the end! Especially since this was my first attempt at drawing Edward, and I'd say he came out pretty darn good! :D

The Holiday season has been pretty up and down for me this year, a lot more stressful then previous years, but Christmas Day was still a blast hanging out with my fam. <3 I finally have my grubby lil hands on the Railway Stories collection, and I was really happy to see how everyone reacted to the things I got them! ;3 So overall, a good year!

I'll be putting together another art-in-review type thing for the year that'll hopefully be posted tomorrow, so stay tuned for that! :D

I hope you all had a nice Holiday season, and I look forward to bringing you all sorts of fun new stuff in the New year! ;3 And as always, thanks for looking everybody!~ ^w^ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Edward, Bill & Ben (c) Thomas & Friends Art (c) Me! <3

[guacamoleroll]

— 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖘 + 𝖓𝖎𝖐𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖎 ₊˚⊹

pairing: nikolai gogol (bungou stray dogs) x gender-neutral!reader

content warning(s): dancing & singing, domestic fluff, usage of the song "baby it's cold outside," he's so silly

author's note: yep, it's a songfic. i haven't written one of these in years, but i could not control myself. hopefully, it came out good and only slightly cheesy. enjoy!

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

The living area of your shared apartment had become an explosion of holiday cheer, twinkling with simple lights pinned atop the mantle of your fireplace. After weeks of procrastination, you and Nikolai had finally decided to finish decorating—or at least you had. Nikolai was in his own little world in the corner, sorting through a box of tiny decorations and giggling. A quick peek around his shoulder revealed his new ensemble—a mustache out of holly leaves and a scarf out of metallic tinsel. 

"Look at me, dove!"

You shook your head, pulling out the last item in your box—a record. The glossy plastic surface of the sleeve was matted with dust, but a quick swipe of your fingers revealed its contents. It was a collection of classic holiday songs from a few decades ago.

"Dove!"

"Gah!" you yelled, almost smacking Nikolai with the record as he popped up behind you. However, his attention had locked entirely onto the cover, eyes sparkling as ideas seemed to ooze out of his brain.

"Play it! Play it!"

You relented. "Fine, fine."

With a quick click of metal on metal, the record settled onto the plate and crinkled to life. You plopped onto the couch, allowing the sweet symphony of holiday cheer to ring out into the apartment.

I really can't stay.

(Baby, it's cold outside)

I've got to go away

(Baby, it's cold outside)

You melted into the cushions, humming to the familiar tune before your ears picked up on a slight shuffle beside you, eyeing Nikolai as he tapped his foot at double the song's tempo, eyes darting across the room. Your brows rose as he stood, his gloved hand extended to take yours with a knowing look.

This evening has been

(Hoping that you'd drop in)

So, very nice.

You yelled out as he spun you around, his cape swishing and tangling between your legs. "I'll hold your hands," he sang along, covering your knuckles with searing kisses before his eyes widened. "They're just like ice."

My mother will start to worry.

Beautiful, what's your hurry?

My father will be pacing the floor

Listen to that fireplace roar.

You guffawed as the fireplace swirled up in an intimate flame, warming the living room in a dazzling, softened light. Any instinctual alarm was melted by the genuine cheerfulness of Nikolai's expression—he was truly so sweet. Much to his utter delight, you began to play along.

"So, really, I'd better scurry," you mused, straying from his grasp with a bare touch on his fingertips. 

And he pulled you back into his arms. "Красива." You trembled at the drawl of his accent, his fingers thrumming against the soft skin of your belly as his hands traveled up your shirt. "Please don't hurry."

You grinned. "But maybe just a half a drink more."

"I'll put some records on while I pour," his voice was low, brushing his nose against your own as his consonants dipped into its richer tone, drawing goosebumps to the top of your skin.

The neighbors might think.

Baby, it's bad out there.

Say, what's in this drink?

No cabs to be had out there

"I wish I knew how," your saccharine words melted in a swath of fondness as he swayed your hips, one hand drawing circles around your waist.

He twirled ringlets of your hair between two fingers, watching their shining strands dance in the dim light before his two-toned eyes trailed up to yours, finding himself utterly entranced with their love-sweetened hue. You couldn't seem to look away, either.

"Your eyes are like starlight now," he mumbled, no longer focused on matching the energy of the music.

"To break this spell."

You smirked. "I'll take your hat." Breaking from the song's story, you stole his line, snatching his hat and placing it on your head. He couldn't help but chuckle as you ruffled his white strands, making him look like a dog with raised fur. "Your hair looks swell."

"I ought to say, no, no, no sir," you tutted, weaseling out of his grasp, only for him to come crawling over.

He scooched it, a pout on his lips. "Mind if I move in closer?" His arm slung around your waist.

You shrugged, huffing as you leaned into him. "At least I'm gonna say that I tried."

"What's the sense in hurting my pride?"

"I really can't stay," you sighed. He nuzzled into your neck, heart thawing at the sound of your laughter. 

"Baby, don't hold out."

"Baby, it's cold outside."

You both slumped onto the couch. He snatched you up in his arms, cooing sweet-nothings as he cuddled and rested his head on your chest.

"I didn't know you were such a good singer, dove," he teased, sticking his tongue out.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up." He squealed as you grabbed him by the lapels, bringing him into an open-mouthed kiss. And he was more than happy to indulge in everything you, a goofy smile curled up on his lips as you both bubbled into your own warm, cozy home.

красива = beautiful

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @hauntedsol @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @thesilvernight0wl @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments

[mamaestapa]

Instagram Official

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/N Y/L/N moved to Cincinnati, Ohio for a new start. Move in day arrives and she discovers something terrible...the apartment complex gave her the wrong lease. Instead of living with who she originally was supposed to, she's now living with the hottest quarterback in the NFL, Joe Burrow. Y/N is stuck living in the same apartment with him for a year...which the two are not thrilled about. However, as time goes on, they realize that maybe this wasn't the worst thing that could happen to them. Will Y/N and Joe stay enemies, or will they find themselves falling in love?

•chapter summary: You and Joe go Instagram official

•word count: 291

•warnings: some mean comments and fluff

series masterlist

——————————————————

*Liv is Y/n in these pics<3*

January 20, 2023

liked by joeyb_9, itsmemacee, and 587, 249 others

tagged: @joeyb_9

yourusername- Alexa, play Lover by Taylor Swift🤍

comments:

joeyb_9-❤️

lahjay10_- HELL YEAH❤️‍🔥

shiestysbae- my day=ruined. she's not even that pretty😭

itsmemacee- The cutest couple! So happy for you guys🥰❤️

joeybfan- this girl is definitely with him for his money. but i'll take the new joe content👀

emhubbard- AH this makes me so happy🥰

bengalsbabe- you haters need to get a life, she is GORGEOUS🤩

body_by_hollyyy- I knew the second I took this picture something was up...SO happy for you two!❤️

jbfan- SHES SO CUTE! and Joe looks so happy omg🥹

view more comments

liked by loganwilsonlb, bengals, and 803,910 others

tagged: @yourusername

joeyb_9- Hard launch

comments:

bengals- new couple alert❤️

yourusername- you did me so dirty with this picture. buts it's fine, i still love you😚

joeyb_9- @yourusername I love you❤️

joeybnumb1fan- yikes...

evanmcpherson- YAY!!!!

loganwilsonlb- Macee and I already planning the double dates!😉

shiestysbae-joe you could do so much better😭 LIKE ME

bengalsbabe- they're so cute🥹

lahjay10_- It's about time my man!

bakermayfield- Wife her up, Joey!😉

view more comments

hey loves!

so this chapter is sort of a filler chapter before i get into the last few important chapters of this story ;) i figured i'd do an instagram chapter or two in this book because they're so much fun to make!

i don't have much to say, just once again that i appreciate all of the love and support you’ve shown me with this story! it keeps me motivated to keep writing, so thank you🤍

these next few chapters are hopefully going to be good, so stay tuned!👀

tags: @jackharloww @ilovejoeburroww @dandelionwrites8 @ijustcrypretty @sinners-98-world @a-moment-captured @stainednailpolishremover @spooky-stoner @xoxokiaraaxoxo @kkrenae

[minaturefics]

Sweet Summers

Request: I’m happy to hear your requests are open! Your writing is incredible! ^^ I have a Legolas x human!reader request if that’s okay. ^^’ One that takes place in between the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings when Legolas traveled with Aragorn after leaving Mirkwood- Legolas and Aragorn stop to stay at a village during a summer festival, Legolas’ first time being at a celebration outside of Mirkwood. During the festival, he sees Reader dancing along with the music and they spend time together before Legolas leaves with Aragorn. Times passes and during the celebration of winning the war, he once again sees Reader dancing to the live music.

A/N: Helllooooooo! Sorry this took like three months but it's here now! First one back since I've been on holiday so I feel a bit rusty but hopefully it's still enjoyable, even after such a long wait. Thank you for your patience! (also idk how it ended up so long but here we are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Legolas x Reader

Gender-neutral reader

No content warnings

5k words

---

You wandered into the village square, taking in the merry scene before you. The entire square was alight with torches and lanterns, and colourful bunting was strung up between the posts. A quartet of musicians were setting up off to the side, and shopkeepers arranged their wares on the tables on the edges of the square. The night was warm and balmy, and the smell of roasted meat and sweet baked goods wafted around the village. 

You nodded at the people you passed and dodged the squealing children running around. You paused by one of the stands, surveying the assortment of desserts. Creamy cheesecake and glistening fruit tarts, sugar coated funnel cakes and raisin biscuits. 

“Do you want any of them, sweetheart?” Dera asked with a grin, her wrinkled eyes sparkled with mirth. “I’ll even throw in some gossip for free.”

“Perhaps a funnel cake,” you said, and placed a couple of coins on the table. She handed it over to you and you took a bite. It was still warm, the sugar melting on your tongue, and you hummed in appreciation. “Now what news do you have?”

“A couple of outsiders wandered into the village today. An elf and a man, they said, staying at the inn.”

A man was not anything novel. Men wandered through the village frequently, stopping by your village near the Merling Stream before continuing into Rohan or Gondor, but an elf was a rare thing. And a man and an elf together, rarer still. “Did they mention their business?”

She shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. “Just passin’ through, they said, but no one here believes that. They aren’t merchants, not with those bows and swords, and they don’t look like the beacon wardens. ”

“Will they be coming to the festival?” You took another bite of the funnel cake, licking the sugar from your lips. 

She shrugged. “I know some people are hopin’ they will. Mighty good looking, they are, ‘specially the elf.”

“Rich?” You smirked.

Dera laughed. “Always thinking about coin. There are other things in life.”

You glanced at your hands, eyeing the small nicks and scrapes that littered your fingers. Woodcarving had been a way to sustain yourself; it neither required you to toil in the fields or to fight the orcs and beasts in the wilds. You thought of the baskets of wooden figurines and dolls, the stacks of cutlery and bowls in your cottage.“Perhaps I should have set up a stall myself.”

“You work hard enough as it is, child. Tonight, we enjoy!” She shooed you with her hands. “Off you go, looks like they are ready to begin.”

The quartet struck up a merry tune, the rich sound of the fiddle dancing with the quick notes of the flute, and people began to flock to the centre. Dera nudged your shoulder and you joined the crowd gathering at the edges of the square. The beat of the drum resonated, amplified by the claps of the crowd, and you felt your feet tap in time. You watched the dancers, their smooth movements, their wide smiles. 

You thumbed the small carved deer in your pocket. Should you go and join them? It had been such a long time since you danced. 

The dancers began to link their hands together, pulling in members of the crowd. One of the girls, the daughter of the butcher, yanked on your arm and you spun into the fold. She held fast, flashing a grin at you, and the next person grasped your hand. There was no choice but to continue with them, kicking your legs in the fancy footwork pattern of the song and rotating with the pound of the drums.

Your eyes fluttered shut, trusting your feet and the pull of the dancers to lead you on. The flute trilled, the lyre harp fluttered. The cobblestones slipped under your feet and the breeze rushed through your hair. Your muscles burned a little and your breaths grew shorter. Laughter rose in your chest and burst from your lips. Round and round you went, until the song finished with a strong drum beat. 

Your eyes snapped open into a pair of soft brown eyes. 

You stepped back, chest heaving, and blinked at the man. He was tall and slim, and clad in a simple green tunic and trousers. 

“Apologies,” you said, “I must have lost myself in the music.”

He tipped his head to the side, a smile tugging on his lips. “It is a lovely sight, to see another so wholly lost in such a joy.”

His light blonde hair glowed golden in the lantern light, and your breath hitched at the sight of his pointed ears. An elf. The elf. Your heart sped up in your chest. The murmurs around you grew, and you could feel the eyes of others trailed on you. 

You gaped at him before shaking your head and offering him a small smile. “Are you… enjoying the summer festival, sir?”

“It is different to what I am used to but I am more curious than I am uncomfortable.” You chuckled at his honest words. “The music is more lively, the dancing more free in a way.”

The scent of something sweet in the air caught your attention and you thought of Dera. “Have you tried the food yet?”

He arched an eyebrow. “We supped at the inn before we came.”

You shook your head. “If you are to truly experience our summer festival, you must try Dera’s cakes.”

His eyes scanned the square. “And where may I find this Dera?”

“I shall lead you to her, I am in need of another sweet treat.”

You started off in the direction of Dera’s stall and the crowd parted, their eyes fixed on the elf behind you. The quartet started up again, the strum of the lyre harp echoing through the air, and the crowd’s attention drifted back to the dancing. You pressed the back of your hand to your cheeks, willing your heated skin to cool, and brushed a stray strand of hair away from your sticky forehead. 

Dera’s eyes lit up at the sight of you and the elf and she grinned at him. “Now what can I get you, sweetheart? First time at a summer festival?”

He gave her an easy smile and scanned her table. “What would you recommend? I am unfamiliar with some of the food of men.”

Dera pointed at the funnel cake and the berry tart. “These two are a good start. Where is your friend? First time at a festival and he left you on your own.”

“He has some business to attend to.” The elf counted some coins in his palm, inspecting the currency. “I believe this should be enough.”

Dera handed the treats over to him and smiled. “Well, since you are without a guide, I offer my young friend here.” 

Your eyes widened. “Dera—”

He smiled at you, eyes bright with delight. “Wonderful, I thank you very much. I am Legolas Greenleaf, though you may call me Legolas.” Dera introduced herself and you muttered your name at him. 

He glanced down at the treats in his hands and Dera took the opportunity to wink at you. “Well, no eatin’ in front of my stall young man. Go off then and find somewhere.”

He looked at you, waiting for you to speak, and you glanced at the couple weathered stone benches on the outskirts of the square. “We can sit there and not be disturbed. I do not think you appreciate the looks my village has given you so far.”

You started for the bench and he fell in step. “I am used to such looks. My companion and I, Aragorn, have been to other settlements before this.”

He sat down next to you and took a tentative bite of the tart. His brows drew together for a moment as he chewed, before his expression smoothed out. “This is quite delicious. What is this yellow cream?”

You chuckled. “It’s custard. Do elf folk not have custard?”

“No, or at least, not in such a manner. I shall have to speak to my father about this. I’m sure the kitchens would be able to imitate it.”

Your eyebrows rose. The kitchens? Why did he speak as though he was some high born? You took him in, his smooth unblemished skin, the cut of his jaw, the quality of the fabric of his tunic. He certainly didn’t look common, but perhaps even the lowest of elves had the air of nobility compared to men. How distant the elves seemed. There were always stories, of course, but how much truth was held in them?

“Legolas,” you said, and he looked up from his tart. “If I may, what is your homeland like? I have heard little of the realm of elves.”

“I hail from Mirkwood in the north. There it is green and lush, where the trees grow into each other and moss carpets the floor. The south of the forest has since fallen into shadow, but there are parts of it that remain untouched.”

You could picture it, the light streaming through the canopy, the rustle of life among the shrubs. “And what do you think of the land of men?”

He finished the tart and started on the funnel cake, humming in pleasure. Crystals of sugar clung to his lips, and your eyes lingered on the pale pink of them. “It is strange, but also wonderful. There seems to be a rush, almost an urgency about the way humans live. A fervour, perhaps, for life.”

You barked out a laugh and shook your head. “We do not have the luxury of immortality. We must make the most of our days while we can.”

A frown crossed his face. “But we have passed so many settlements where I see humans suffer. There is hunger and struggle, there is pain and conflict.”

“Yes, but there is also joy.” You gestured to the crowd at the square, tilting your head up to capture the melodious notes ringing in the air. “And we relish these moments, perhaps because of the very nature of our mortality.”

He considered your words, chewing. “I suppose if one could only eat a finite number of funnel cakes in one’s life, one would seek to savour each of them.”

You nodded. “And we humans have found excuses to celebrate with each other where we can. Birthdays and holidays, the beginning and end of each season. Maybe this is how we cope, to know that despite how short our lives are, we have mattered to another, that we have shared something beautiful together.”

He looked down at the remains of his funnel cake. “Even for something as simple as sharing the joy of a sweet treat?”

You laughed. “Especially for something like a sweet treat.”He finished the last of the cake and leaned back on his arms, staring out at the square with a content smile on his face. “Tell me stories of your kin. It is not everyday that I meet an elf.”

His brown eyes brightened and he nodded. He told you of their festival celebrating the stars, how they would sing and their voices would echo into the night, how the lakes would reflect the endless starlight. He told you about how he used to wander off as a child to explore the forest, how he would nestle himself between the great roots of a tree and feel the life humming under his touch. 

He looked young, but there was something so old about his words, longing and lingering, sighing and wistful, like the elders of the village. The clouds shifted, revealing the moon, and for a moment he was bathed in the silvery light. It outlined his handsome features, the long line of his limbs. Your heart sped up. And then it wrenched in your chest. 

This was only a moment in time, a fraction of his lifespan. You would remember him for the rest of your days, a glowing, glittering night in your memory, a dream, but he would most likely forget you.

“Are you alright, my friend?” Legolas tilted his head at you. “It seems you have gone somewhere else.”

“I was simply thinking it is a lovely night.”

“Indeed.” He smiled. “It was lucky that we were here tonight. My friend and I will have to leave the towns and cities for some time. I do not believe I shall encounter another festival any time soon.”

You shifted and the wooden deer in your pocket jabbed into your thigh. You felt for it in your pocket. “Would you… care for a souvenir of sorts? Something to remind yourself of tonight?”

He nodded slowly. “Though all the stalls are selling food.”

You offered the deer to him, the figurine small in your hand. He reached for it, his fingers brushing your palm, and your breath caught in your throat. Such smooth skin, warm and gentle. 

He held it to the light, turning it in his hand as his smile grew. “Did you carve this?”

“I did. I usually carry one or two of them, for the children.”

His eyes grew troubled for a moment. “I would hate to deprive a young one of such a charming thing.”

You shook your head. “I have others. Keep it, if you wish.”

He smiled at you, soft and slow. “You have my thanks. I shall treasure this.”

--

Legolas leaned back against the rough bark of the tree and stretched his legs out. The fire was little more than glowing charcoal and a few burning twigs. Aragron was asleep a few paces away, rolled up in his cloak and curled around himself. The browning leaves on the tree rustled as a cool breeze drifted through the small clearing. Somewhere an owl hooted. 

He pulled the carved deer you had given him from his pocket, twisting it in his hand. The low light caught the edges of your delicate strokes, picking out the texture of its fur. He imagined your hands working at the wood, dust covered and callused, careful and skilled. When your fingers had brushed his that evening a warmth had lingered on his skin. Elves always ran cooler than humans and it felt as though your touch had seared him. 

You had been so captivating in the blazing light of the lanterns, dancing with an abandon so foreign to him. It was as though the music was a part of you, moving through your limbs and lifting your heels. How wild, how beautiful. 

That night felt like some distant memory, some dream too far for him to grasp. He thought of your eyes, shimmering in the light of the moon, of your laugh, loud and joyous. He could picture you perfectly, the warm orange of the lanterns lighting half of your face, the cool light of the moon illuminating the other side. You reminded him of some of the old fables and tales, like some mythical being, caught between two worlds, a miracle of existence. 

And your words. They would not stop echoing in his mind. You were young, only a fraction of his lifespan, and yet there was something ancient about the way you spoke. He had always pitied humans for their short years but your words had made him wonder. Was he, an elf, missing out on some fundamental experience by being immortal?

That evening he was so close to asking you to… to wait for him, or something fanciful like that. A year or two while he went off with Aragorn, hunting the orcs, watching the Enemy. But a year or two was no mere ask for a human, whose life would sweep past them before they realised. He could not ask that of you,to rob you of a chance of finding another who could bring you happiness in those years.

The thought of another lacing their hands with you, drawing you close, made his heart clench. There might even be the chance that you had forgotten him. It was only an evening together, conversing to the backdrop of merry music. You must have had dozens of festivals in your life. It was probably nothing more than another to you. He was probably no more special than another passing traveller. He sighed and pocketed the deer.

Aragorn shifted and squinted over his shoulder. “Is anything the matter, my friend? I sense an unease in you.”

“Do men pity us elves?”

Aragorn considered the question, his eyes drifting to the weak fire. “I think that a great many of them envy your kind. Why do you ask?”

“I have always believed that no other could revere life as we do because of our endless life spans. But now I wonder if perhaps we do not fully understand life because of it. That perhaps we cannot comprehend it without death as a counterpoint.”

“Men and elves have different ways of life, and of celebrating it. It does not mean one is better than another.” Aragorn twisted to fully face Legolas. “What has brought such thoughts to your mind?”

“Someone at the summer festival.”

“That was over a year ago.” Aragorn arched his brow. “They must have been quite a person to weigh so heavily on you after such a time.”

Legolas nodded. “But I do not believe I shall see them again. The Enemy is growing stronger each day. I can feel it. I fear a great many battles are ahead of us.”

“That village by the river is not far off from our scouting route. We can pass through if you wish.”

“No,” he said, and closed his eyes. It would be better if he did not lay his eyes on you again. Better if he put you out of his mind. What good would it do to dwell on something beyond his grasp? “No. Our errand at hand cannot afford delay.”

--

You smoothed down your hair and tucked a carved robin into your pocket. Outside, people hurried past your modest shop front towards the upper circles of Minas Tirith. You swept your eyes over the counters and shelves, ensuring everything was arranged and prepared for the next morning, before stepping out and locking the door. The sweet scent of honeysuckle and lavender perfumed the city, wafting down from the blooming gardens in the higher circles. A distant drum beat above the excited chatter of the citizens and you joined the crowd headed towards the music. 

 The warm evening air, the faint leaping trills of the flute, the weight of a carving against your thigh. It brought back the memory of Legolas from two summers ago. His soft brown eyes, his barely there smile. Where was he now? Elves had descended upon the city in preparation for Aragorn’s coronation, but you were yet to see the flowing blonde locks that you thought of so frequently. 

Did he think of you? Did he even remember you? Perhaps you were just another human to him, fleeting, passing. Nothing interesting, nothing important.

You spared another glance behind at your shop. The last two years had been eventful. In the autumn after Legolas had left, a travelling noble had passed through your village. She had taken an immediate liking to your craft, had found your bowls and plates well made and your trinkets amusing. A short conversation and a full coin pouch later, she had convinced you to follow her back to Minas Tirith. The coin was better, and you had your own rooms above the shop, but the people of the city were more restrained than those in the country. Gone were the spontaneous village square dances, the casual shared dinners in someone’s home. 

A more comfortable life, but perhaps a more lonely one too.

The music grew louder as you approached and you peered through the heads of the crowd that formed where the market stalls usually were. A group of musicians played some jaunty tune and in the middle there were couples dancing. They whirled across the cobblestones, skirts fluttering and arms wheeling, eyes soft and smiles wide. 

How lovely it must be, to dance with another. To have warm arms encircle you, to have tender words muttered in your ear. You thought of Legolas’ gentle brown eyes and the low timbre voice. How many times have you twirled alone in your rooms, imagining his hand in yours and his lips on your temple? How many nights have you lain awake, revisiting the memory of him? 

You sighed and shook your head. The Enemy had been defeated and a new king was to be crowned — it was time to shake off the shadows and find some joy. 

The musicians changed their tune and more people began flocking to the centre. The dancers began linking arms with each other and forming small circles. You kicked up your heels and joined the closest group of people, a smile growing on your face. 

The rapid beat of the drums bounced off the high stone walls and the strum of the lute raced to follow it. With each flutter and trill of the flute, the song sped up, and heat rushed to your cheeks. You closed your eyes and tiled your head back, revelling in the harmonies of the harp. Your body moved on its own accord, feet shifting in well practised patterns and arms moving in sync with the others. 

The music reached a crescendo, the melody rising to a fever pitch, and you spun out of the circle. You swirled through the air on the tips of your toes, arms arcing in smooth motions. The last of the notes faded in the breeze and your eyes fluttered open. 

There, across the square, hemmed in by the crowd, stood Legolas. 

His lips were parted and his eyes were wide. Your feet faltered on the cobblestones and you stumbled. What was he doing here? How was it possible, after so much time, after so much death?

The crowd broke out into cheers and claps for the musicians, and dancers bowed and thanked each other. You glanced away from him, blinking rapidly and offering polite smiles to the people around you, your heart hammering in your chest. 

Would he want to see you? Speak to you? You straightened your clothes and smoothed down your hair. Valar, if you knew he was in the city you would have made more of an effort to look presentable. 

You looked up, but he was gone. 

You craned your neck, shuffling backwards out of the dancing space, looking for him as your chest tightened. Perhaps he did not wish to speak to you. Perhaps he did not even recognise you. You shook your head. You were just being ridiculous with your flights of fancies, with your daydreams and imaginings. He probably did not think of you once since that evening. 

Your back collided with something solid and you turned on your heels, apology ready to leap off your tongue. His brown eyes, as soft as you remembered, peered into your own. 

“Legolas,” you whispered, “I… Good evening, sir.”

A smile stretched across his face. “I did not think you remembered me.”

“I did not think you remembered me.”

“You are impossible to forget.” The music struck up again and he leaned closer to you. His scent filled the space around you. Woody and fresh, like a forest on a spring morning. “If it is not too much trouble, may I request your company for this evening?”

You blinked at him and your jaw worked. Another evening with Legolas?

His brows drew together and he took a small step back. “Unless… You are already in the company of another?”

You shook your head and his brow eased. “What would you wish to do?”

“There was a stall nearby selling funnel cakes I believe. If you have not eaten, perhaps we can find some sweet treats.”

You grinned before you could stop yourself and he tilted his head in the direction of the market stalls. Legolas located the dessert stall and inclined his head at the matronly lady behind the display. He handed her a few coins and she passed two warm funnel cakes to you.

He led you to one of the stone benches by a watchtower, away from the buzz of the crowd, and sat next to you. The sun was just dipping below the horizon and its rays painted the fields a warm orange. You tore off and popped a piece of the cake into your mouth. The cinnamon and sugar melted on your tongue and you sighed.

“It has been quite some time,” Legolas began, “How did you come to be in Minas Tirith?”

“My wares attracted a wealthy patron. I have a shop in one of the circles below this.”

“And has the city been to your liking?”

“It is certainly much more interesting than my little village but…” Your eyes drifted towards the mountain ranges in the distance. Beyond them, between dense trees and by the rushing river, your village still stood, unblemished by the war. “But I do long for the ease of familiarity, for the comfort of knowing another would be there should you need them.”

“Minas Tirith, while beautiful, can be a cold city. Away from the green of the forest, my companions have been a great comfort to me, and Aragorn —”

“King Aragorn?” You gaped at him. “You… You know him?” You blinked rapidly, words and gossip from the last few months filling your mind. The elf and the dwarf that accompanied the returned king to Mordor… The elf prince of Mirkwood… 

“Yes, he is one of my closest companions.”

Your body went cold. What were you thinking? He was a hero, a prince. And what were you? Some common carver, some unknown person. There would be no chance now, not even the slightest sliver of hope. It would be better just to stop before your heart runs away with itself. 

Your eyes lingered on his long eyelashes, how they almost appeared transparent in the setting sun, on the sharp edges of his cheekbone and jaw, on the pale column of his throat. Maybe you could be happy as his friend, simply watching from afar. A friend, yes, that would be better than nothing. But even then, he might be going away after the coronation, back to his towering trees and moss covered rocks. 

“Is something the matter?” Legolas asked, finishing the last bit of his funnel cake.

“I am just thinking that chance has favoured us for us to have met twice.”

“Yes, I had hoped…” He glanced away, eyes on the horizon. “I had hoped that we would meet again. And chance has been even more generous, for we now reside in the same city.”

“You are not returning to Mirkwood?”

A smile pulled at the corners of his lips, his voice growing tender. “No, I think I finally understand what you spoke of that evening, and I have found people I wish to share that… burning of life with.”

Your cheeks flushed. Your words had stayed with him since that evening? “I’m sure your companions will be happy to hear that.”

His eyes drifted back from the horizon to yours. His brown eyes had melted into a deep, warm amber in the orange light. His voice was low, tentative, when he spoke. “It is not just my companions who I wish to share my time with.” 

Did he mean you? You blinked at him, jaw working. 

“I am aware we are not closely acquainted,” he murmured, brows drawing together. “But it is just I have thought of little else, of no one else, but you since that evening.”

Was it truly possible? That he could return even a fraction of what you felt for him?

“Forgive me,” he whispered, glancing away. “If I have upset you with my words. I am still learning the ways of men.”

“No, no,” you said, heart swooping in your chest. “I have thought of you frequently since that night. Wondering, hoping.” He turned to face you and you reached out for his hand on the bench. 

Your trembling fingers curled around his. His hand was cool, nearly as cool as the stone beneath it, and his skin was impossibly smooth. A quiet sigh escaped his lips and he smiled. His thumb caressed your knuckles before he lifted your hand to press a kiss to your fingers. His lips were warm and soft, his breath featherlike on the back of your hand.

“I find your hands captivating,” he admitted, running his fingers over your calluses. 

“Do you not think them rough and unrefined?”

“They show character, of your time spent on something you love, of your cleverness and skill. Elves do not develop such marks, no matter how many years we devote ourselves to something.”

You eyed the hardened patches on your skin. “Yes, I suppose they have created some beautiful things.”

“I must confess a small terrible thing to you,” he said, a rueful smile on his face. “I lost the carved deer you gifted me with. We were beset by orcs while tracking our kidnapped friends. It must have fallen out of my pocket in the fight.”

Your heart clenched at the thought of him keeping your carving with him since that night? “It is no matter,” you said, smiling. “I can carve you another one.”

“You would give me such a gift again?”

“I would carve you one every summer should you wish it.”

“I would wish for nothing more than your company every summer.” 

“Only in the summer?” You laughed, squeezing his fingers.

“Every season,” he said, voice low as he leaned closer. His lips brushed your temple and your eyes fluttered shut. “For as many as you are willing to give.”

“All of them,” you muttered. “As many as I have to give.”

[cnwolf-brainrot]

So I'm kind of just realizing that I basically got out of the TMNT AU Comp and then dropped off of tumblr for like a month LOL Basically the comp was taking all of my extra energy and the second the Dee-Evolution AU lost I was PUMMELED by IRL work... I had a whole exit comic sketched and never got the chance to finish it and at this point it's way too late LOLLLL

Anyway THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH to anyone who voted for the Dee-Evolution AU in the @tmntaucompetition, holy cow!! We almost pulled out a tie, that's honestly INSANE for an AU as small as this!! I was utterly blown away, thank you all so much for the support!!!

The comp honestly completely drained me for a bit, but I'm starting to draw some turtles again and I definitely have some more Dee-Evolution content buzzing around! I also have another project that's burning through my brain right now so WHOO, hopefully stay tuned for that! <3

Thank you guys again for all the support, you guys are amazing!!

[homestuck-archive]

HOMESTUCK: BEYOND CANON NEWS UPDATE!!

Hi, James here. What a week. What a month. What a year. Hope this update finds you well. About time we heard from these guys.

A lot of things goin on this month, it was just announced that the guys over at Requiem are doing their Homestuck Cafe event again this year for the 15 year anniversary. Neat! I won’t be there and I don’t really have much to do with it, but I’m sure they will talk about it in the coming weeks.They’re also doing a limited run of merch for the event, which is kinda cool. If you are in the Southern California area and are the type of person that likes themed desserts and drinks it could be fun!

What else..? Over on Patreon we ran a poll. If you are a member and hadn’t seen it, it looks like people generally want to stagger releases of paid patron content so that it's not all dumped at the beginning of the month. A lot of little projects are waiting to finalize things with like ONE guy, so hopefully I will have more exciting news for you soon.

I promised a little transparency even when it was mundane, so here’s some updates of where we’re at: as a team we’ve been looking at merch and we have an opportunity to do a few shirts (GOD. DAMMIT. THIS ISN'T PART OF THE NEWS UPDATE BY THE WAY, I JUST HATE MORE SHIRTS. GOD.) as a sort of trial run with a manufacturer and supplier to see if we’re worth it, but I kind of want to make something a little more interesting than say an illustration on a hanes beefy-t. You know what I mean? Not even a long sleeve? C'mon man. Chumi has been reaching out to musicians about this vinyl, but if we can’t get ahold of the last two guys we might just have to go ahead without them which would suck. I’ll try reaching out through other avenues as well.

The new websites got some stuff in the works, but we’ll be halting some of that to focus on a few key updates that are coming up that will require a little more on the technical side. In the meantime, keep those suggestions and typo fixes coming.

As a team we are planning to do something small and fun for the anniversary, so stay tuned for more about that next month.