#actually looking at it better it's not her head it's her torso that's too small

[im-literally-just-sitting-here]

A very quick doodle of limited life Pearl :D

[ffsg0jo]

toji's not used to this.

the sweet nothings whispered into his cheek, the feeling of the newly risen sun soaking into his skin. his body is telling him to move, to get up, to just grab the money you left him on the desk and leave. but your arms tighten around his torso, and he takes a deep breath in, slightly relaxing into your hold. he reminds himself that there is no money and that there is no reason for him to leave. he's safe in your arms.

he hasn't had to leave before the sun's up in a while now. he's almost forgotten how it feels to be ashamed since he met you. you saw him like he was an actual person. really looked at him, past the hard exterior, and saw more than just a man to take advantage of.

it's taking time for him to get used to being cared for, to being loved. in the year (almost two) that he's known you, it has gotten infinitely better. he's got a roof permanently over his head, is in contact with megumi (the boy's set to move back in with his father just before his birthday) and has gotten a stable job with a decent income. you've helped him with budgeting and saving money (upon his request), and he's even started a small 'megumi college fund'.

he finds himself opening up to both you and his son more, sharing little snippets of the thoughts on his mind and his feelings. with the child growing faster and faster as the days go by, he realises just how alike him and megumi are. emotionally stunted, but both loving fiercely. he has his mother's smile though.

his wife's smile.

his late wife. she would've hated what he became after her death. would've scolded him for leaving his son with a random teenager. would’ve despised the countless murders, her heart breaking at what he’s had to do for money and a roof. maybe it was a good thing she wasn’t alive to see it.

he wonders if she'd be okay with him moving on.

in another life, you both would've been the bestest of friends. you're so alike but so different at the same time. you're both his respite too. she might've left him for you if he was being honest, the thought making him laugh dryly every single time it enters his mind.

toji feels like he can conquer the world with you cheering him on and his son right beside you, in his corner. he's getting better. he really is. but progress isn't linear.

there are still nights where he breaks down, sobbing into your arms.

he tries to be quiet, but his throat clogs up, and he can't breathe. he's gasping for air, trying to focus on the way one of your hands is sifting through his hair and the other rubbing his back. but he slips, and a new wave of tears run down his face. he's spluttering, and there's snot all over your shoulder. but you patiently hold him through it all, press kisses to his hair, gently telling him to let it all out.

"i've got you toji," you whisper. "you'll always be safe with me."

when he's finally settled, you're holding a water bottle to his lips, letting him drink as much as he wants, gently dragging a cool, damp washcloth over his face when he's had his fill. your gentleness and unfiltered love make him want to sob all over again. he's undeserving, he thinks, but he'll never be ungrateful for your love or take advantage of it. he'd do anything in power to become deserving of you and cherish you for as long as he lives.

he'll never be the man he once was. his wife's death had affected him deeply in ways he'll never recover (and part of him doesn't want to fully); she was the love of his life. but he's working on reconciling with what he's becoming and the way you've impacted his life, too.

he feels guilty for loving you sometimes, the way he loved his late wife. you've experienced things with megumi his wife could only dream of. megumi loves you like a mother figure, and sometimes he finds himself loathing the fact. it's not your fault, though, and his therapist's words constantly play on his mind, forcing the negative thoughts out. it's getting better.

slowly but surely, toji is healing. his life wasn't always easy, full of hatred and anger. he's made so many mistakes, he has so many regrets (you'd never be one of them) and he's atoning for his sins. like sand during a storm in the desert, grain by golden grain, his life has been displaced with love. with his late wife's, with his little blessing's, and with yours.

he's loved and lost, and then lost a whole lot more. but now, he's been given the privilege of loving once more.

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[moonstruckme]

hi! What about a fic if one of the Mauraders or TASM peter with a reader who's insecure about her big boobs? Like ik everyone thinks it's ideal but honestly sometimes it really sucks when shirts don't fit right or everything looks slutty or u can't go braless or alternatively a fic about their gf overhearing someone say they r an ass man but she has a small butt?

Thank you for requesting!

cw: insecurity around breast size

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re looking in the mirror, and you want to feel good about yourself. Really, everything looks the way it should. Your hair looks better than it would on an average day, that new eyeshadow thing you tried actually turned out nicely, and your dress fits the way it’s supposed to.��

Just, the way it’s supposed to fit doesn’t really seem right to you at the moment. 

“Peter,” you call in the direction of the bathroom, “if I ask you about something, can you promise to be honest with me?” 

You hear water splash in the shower, signaling your boyfriend is finally rinsing out his hair. In classic Peter fashion, he seems like he’s going to be late to his own banquet. Oscorp is having a formal event to recognize the achievements of their scientists this year. Peter’s done even more than most, and he’s expected to give a speech before the food comes out which you’ll be lucky to make at this rate. You were supposed to get ready together, but he’d spent the majority of the time flirting with you while you did your makeup in your pajamas. 

“Duh, I’m always honest,” he calls back. The shower shuts off. “That’s why they call me your friendly, honest, neighborhood spider-man.” A pause. You wonder if he can sense the dry look you’re sending his way. “Fine, but I’m always honest with you. Shoot, sweetheart.” 

“Okay.” You give yourself one final, disappointed look-over in the mirror before heading towards the bathroom door. “I’m serious, don’t sugarcoat anything, but do you think—” 

The door swings open, and Peter’s right in front of you, beads of water still visible on his torso and a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“—this is too slutty?” you finish, quieter, right as he blurts, “Oh my god.” 

Peter blinks. His head does a tiny shake, as if trying to rid himself of a dizzy spell. “What?” he asks. 

Probably not your best phrasing. “I just mean, is it too booby,” you try again. You have the urge to tuck your arms around your middle self-consciously, but you worry that would only make the boob predicament worse. 

“Baby.” Peter’s still looking at you like you’re speaking another language. “What?” 

You look down at your highly visible cleavage, then back up at him. “You know what I mean,” you say softly. 

“Okay, speaking from a strictly male standpoint,” Peter says, unabashed as his eyes dip to where yours just where, “I can’t condone the idea that there is such a thing as too booby. But even if I was, like, a ninety-five year old conservative woman, I couldn’t—I would still think you look beautiful.” 

Your heart balloons. It’s not a compliment you got much before you met Peter. Hot, sexy, sure, but not beautiful. 

“God.” The word slips from your boyfriend’s mouth so softly it almost sounds like a prayer. His hands find your waist, skimming down the satiny material of your dress to rest on your hips. “You’re amazing, sweetheart. Is that the eyeshadow trick you were talking about?” 

You nod, cheeks burning. “You watched me do it.” 

“It looks different with the dress on,” he agrees. “Fuck. Not to be corny, but you’re seriously taking my breath away. I can’t breathe right now.” 

A little laugh stutters out of you, and Peter smiles. He’s looking rather breathtaking himself, fresh-faced from the shower with a piece of damp hair still clinging to his forehead. You unstick it and comb it back in with the others already fluffed up after being toweled off. He smells like his shampoo. 

“Can I kiss you,” he asks, “or will I mess up your makeup?” 

“Be careful,” you warn, smiling as you lean in. 

He is, but his hands give away his hunger, bunching in the fabric at the base of your spine to get you closer. He makes a low, needy sound in the back of his throat, and for half a second you wonder if it’s for your benefit but then you remember that he was right earlier. Peter is always honest with you. 

You laugh when you pull away, going to get a bit of tissue paper to blot away the lipstick you’ve left on him. A glance in the bathroom mirror shows that yours is, thankfully, intact. 

“Are you sure this dress will be appropriate?” you ask, less insecure now but still nervous as you wipe at Peter’s upper lip. “Regardless of how much you like it, it’s still a formal thing and I don’t want to be…indecent.” You cringe. There’s no word that sounds nice. 

Your boyfriend’s brows furrow. His hands skim up your arms, and he looks like he’s about to reply when you fold the toilet paper and stick it between his lips. “Blot,” you murmur. 

He does. “Baby.” He squeezes your upper arms, a silent request for you to look up at his eyes. You find them soft and earnest. “There’s nothing inappropriate about what you’re wearing. It is a formal thing, and you’re wearing a formal dress. You look beautiful.” That word again. Your cheeks burn. Peter kisses one of them. “No one is going to have anything to say about how you look other than how beautiful you are,” he promises. 

You let the sincerity of his words seep into you, pooling like a warm drink in your belly. The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth. Now you’re feeling bashful for other reasons. 

It’s obvious by Peter’s grin that he can tell. He gives your arms another squeeze before moving you out of the way and going to where his clothes are laid out on the bed. 

“Actually, that’s pretty convenient for me.” He discards the towel on the floor, slipping on a pair of boxers and then starting to button up his dress shirt. “You’ve just taken a whole bunch of pressure off my speech, sweetheart. No way anyone’s gonna be looking at me while I’m up there.”

[foreingersgod]

hiii, could u write smth for emily please? something with sleepy early morning cuddles on her day off and overall being physically clingy <3

Touch . EE

pairing: emily engstler x reader

emily had gotten home the night before absolutely exhausted and worn out. she was stressed and overwhelmed, this week had felt longer than it actually was. her body ached, her head hurt, and all she wanted was you.

she remembers fumbling with the key to unlock your front door, clambering through the threshold, eager to be home. her shoes and jacket were off in seconds and her wallet and keys were tossed carelessly onto the marble counter of your kitchen. it felt like she hadn’t been home in years, dragging herself up the stairs to your shared room.

excitement struck her body as she finally reached the bedroom, she couldn’t wait to wrap her arms around you and fall asleep. she didn’t have anything planned at all for tomorrow, completely prepared to force you to stay in bed with her all day. a day of rotting in bed with your body pressed up against hers sounded like heaven. when she opened the door, noticing your sleeping figure, she stripped of the rest of her clothes and crawled into bed beside you. she said nothing, pulling you into her and resting her head in the crook of your neck. she let out a long and weary sigh as sleep over took her.

I've been lonely since I woke up

I want a touch, no, it's never enough

a merciful stream of light flooded through the cracked window, illuminating the entire room. the light pried at emily’s eyes causing her to rise from her deep slumber. she yawned, stretching her long limbs and groaning in relief. she hadn’t slept this good in a while. with eyes still laced with sleep, practically glued shut, her arm extended to search for you. her calloused fingers met with the silky skin of your shoulder. she cracked an eye open, the early morning light still too much to bare as she looked over to your side of the bed.

you were laying there on your side, turned away from emily. both of your legs were thrown in opposite directions, something that drove her crazy but she still loved you despite your habit to hog the bed. your body rose and fell as you took gentle breathes, snoring softly as you carried on dreaming.

she was still so so tired, wanting to let her eyes close again and sink back into her pillow. but the urgency she had for you was much greater. most of the time, she’d wake up before you just like this. you were quite the night owl as opposed to emily’s early bird nature. but with both of you having the entire saturday to yourselves, she was having a hard time letting you sleep while she sat awake.

she scooted closer to you, pushing the sheets off of your torso so she could get a better look at you. even though you were facing away from her, she couldn’t help but sit and admire you. she brought one hand up to your back, allowing her fingers to draw small shapes on your exposed skin. everything about you had her entranced, from the delicate texture of your skin to the way your hair fell perfectly around your face.

the mornings, she realized, were so lonely without you.

I heard her voice then had a crush

Made me remember all the reasons why

“emily?”

your voice sounded into the room, sleep curling itself around the essence of your words. she had let herself fall into a shallow form of sleep as she continued to run her hands across your body, only to be abruptly pulled from it when she felt you shift.

her heart melted when she heard you for the first time, she had longed for you presence for what was nearing an hour. your groggy, yet still sweet morning voice was music to her ears. she felt herself smile as you called out her name.

“yea, baby?” she mumbled into the pillow.

“what time is it?” you had asked, already sensing how early it was. emily felt a small wave of guilt, realizing that it was hours earlier than what you normal would have awaken at. but that was quickly diminished when you finally turned to face her.

stretching in the process, you rolled over, resisting the urge to throw the sheets back over your body and doze off once more. emily removed her face from the pillow to soak in the image of you. you smiled the moment you laid eyes on her, throwing a leg over her waist and placing your feeble hands on her chest. her large hands instinctively came to rest on your thigh, thumb making mindless circles on your skin.

“about 7” she leaned in to place a kiss to your forehead “sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up this early”

I wanna give you all I've got

Until I'm not even a thought

“s’ok” you let your eyes flutter for a moment, feeling her lips linger on you “i don’t mind. would rather be awake with you anyways”

a sloppy smile danced its way onto emily’s face. her cheeks turned slightly pink, always so sheepish when you flattered her. she was so whipped for you, mesmerized by everything you did. even if it was just wanting her company as you wallowed in the sheets.

“do you know how much i love you?” she inquired.

a satisfied sigh escaped your lips as you tucked your head into her chest. you felt her chin rest on your head as you nuzzled your nose against her neck. you couldn’t help but chuckle, you don’t think anyone could possibly know the amount of love you held for your girlfriend.

“course i do, em” you hummed, lavishing in her warm embrace. you let your hands drag from their place on her chest and up over her shoulders “do you know how much i love you?”

“mhm,” you could sense her drifting off again “i think we should stay like this…all day”

she abandoned your thigh, now trailing her hands under your shirt. your skin formed small goosebumps when you felt her cold fingers run along the underside of your breast. you knew her touch wasn’t from a place of lust, but from a place of passion and desire.

“i like the sound of that”

You've been hangin' out in my head

I've been imaginin' you in my bed

the room was filled with soft snores and gratified breathing. occasional small talk was made, but neither of you needed to speak, content with the silent company. the busyness of the world blared outside, persuading you to leave the house, but nothing could pull you from this moment.

she couldn’t believe that this was her reality. that she got to lay here with you like this, the most beautiful person to walk the earth, someone so kind and gentle. you were her soulmate, she was convinced. it was something so bizarre to love you. she had a hard time imagining that you were here beside her; doting on her, whispering how much you loved her.

But my imagination can only go so far

although, she didn’t need to imagine. she had the real thing right here.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

taglist:

@idiotsnake @girlokwhatever @uraesthete @katemartinsimp @rimunagenius @patscorner @julienbakerloverr @sunfairy-world @anakinsmakingmeweak @barbacoas-stuff @0alessia0 @kc88888888 @kinfluenza @lacyspeaks @pbueckerslover

i don’t know why it isn’t tagging some of guys so i’m trying to figure out how to fix that :’)

[luveline]

hello my love!! could you maybe show us what bedtime is like in the kbd universe? thank you, you’re incredible <3

kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader get their small family ready for bed. 3k

“She looks so pretty,” Avery whispers. 

Steve struggles to pull the hem of his sock over his ankle, crossing his legs to match her as she snaps an apple slice in half with her fingers, the juice wetting her pyjama top, her torso swaying as his knee bumps into hers. “Who?” Steve asks, blinking. 

“Wren,” Avery says, leaning back to let Steve see the baby where she’s napping in her bouncer. Avery shoves a chunk of apple in her mouth. “She’s pw-ery.” 

“Try not to talk with your mouth full, you might choke.” 

Avery nods, closing her mouth to chew up the rest of her food with chipmunk cheeks. 

Steve draws a little heart into her knee. She has a bruise from falling up the stairs a few days ago like a purple ink blot just under her kneecap, but she hasn’t complained. She didn’t cry when she fell, she just got back up and asked for a Capri-Sun. Steve’s surprised she’s so hardy, but she’s getting older. He’d sort of been hoping she’d want him to kiss it better.

“She’s pretty like her big sister,” he says. 

“I’m glad she’s stopped crying all the time.” 

“Me too.” He takes one of the smaller slices from her plate to eat, wiping juice from her cheek as he does. 

She grins. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. You all done?” 

“Yep.” 

“Not hungry anymore?” 

“Nope.” She grabs her plate before he can. “I’ll put it in the sink.” 

“Thanks, beautiful.” 

She jumps up with her empty plate and does a spin, saying, “Who, me?” 

Steve laughs like an idiot, still chuckling to himself as the sound of her plate hitting the kitchen sink reaches his ears. Wren, finally out of her sleep regression (for now), doesn’t wake. All good signs of a good night. 

Steve lets his head fall back onto little legs. “What about you?” he asks Dove, the second youngest daughter, where she sits behind him on the couch. 

She hums under her breath, her hands quick to weave into his hair, petting it away from his face. He waits for an answer he doesn’t get, closing his eyes and turning his face into her knee. Her giggles are treacle sweet. “Don’t sleep,” she protests. 

“I’m tired.” 

“It’s not bed time.” 

She’s not gonna like what Steve’s about to tell her, if that’s the case. She had a screaming tantrum last night about bed time where she threw herself on the floor and whacked her hands until her palms turned bright red. He’s not wanting a repeat. 

“It is bed time,” he says gently, though it’s not for another half an hour, “but, I was thinking, because you’ve been so good today you’d stay up extra. Maybe even have hot cocoa before bed.” Steve turns to meet her eyes. “How’s that sound?” 

“Really?” she asks, her eyes blowing wide with excitement. Steve is starting to wonder if she’s not as mini-me as he used to think, growing into sweeter features as she leaves the baby-toddler stage and starts to look like a kid. He loves it. 

“That sound fun or what?” 

She dives at him. He has enough sense to have twisted and catches her before she can break any of his teeth. “You are the best daddy ever!” she declares seriously, almost tipping over his shoulder. 

He lets her dangle for a second, then yanks her back topside. “You’re my best girl, that’s why. Let’s go make the drinks. Actually, we better go see who else wants some.” 

You and Bethie are attempting some last minute crafts at the dining table, and you’re very interested in hot chocolate but Beth doesn’t like it and so, doesn’t want any. She does seem interested in a glass of milk with a couple of chocolate chip cookies, so it’s nearly the same thing. “Careful,” he says, putting the half a pint of milk down in front of her birdhouse cautiously, “you don’t wanna spill that, baby.” 

“Who says she’s gonna spill it?” you ask. 

“Don’t start with me,” Steve warns. 

You smile to yourself. You’ve a spatula for PVA glue in your hand, skins of glue dried to your fingertips flecked with splinters of wood. Lollipop crafts felt like a good idea when he’d suggested it, but then he didn’t actually want to do it, and you’d been kind enough to step in. I’m sick of mess, he’d confided. 

Well, you’d said, somewhere between a quick kiss pressed to his shoulder and your hand rubbing it away, you probably shouldn’t have asked me to have so many kids. 

I love mess, he’d corrected immediately. Love to make more of it someday. 

“We’re nearly done in time for bed,” you assure him now. 

“I told Dove she could have an extra half an hour.” He winks at you clumsily. 

“Oh, really? Well, maybe Beth and Avery should get some extra time too.” 

Beth dunks her cookie into the top of her cup. “No thanks. I’m tired. Can I sleep with Avery again?” she asks, milk dribbling down the sides of the glass to darken the coaster underneath. 

“You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Steve says. “Wait, where is she? I thought she was in here.” Something grabs him by the legs, a sudden clutching that activates a heat in his eyes and spine he can’t explain. He flinches sideways into a cabinet and almost steps on a rather small limb. “What the fuck.” 

“Boo!” Avery says, laughing brightly as Steve rights himself on the counter. 

“Avery! Did I step on you? I’m sorry,” he says, immediately bending down. “What were you thinking? I could’ve really hurt you!” 

“Daaad, I was just pulling a prank,” she says. 

He checks over the arm he was so sure he’d stepped on. “You okay?” 

“She’s fine,” you say. “Yeah?” 

“I’m fine!” She hugs his legs again. “You said a super bad word.” 

He was hoping everybody missed that. “Dove–”

“Dad,” Dove interrupts, kicking her little feet exactly where he left her sitting on the dinner table by your left, “bad words make me cry.” She says it all clunky and clumsy, having heard it enough times. Her Aunt Robin has a potty-mouthed girlfriend, and Steve can’t do damage control quick enough sometimes.

“No, it’s when you say bad words daddy cries,” Avery says. 

“I didn’t say one!” 

“I know! I just mean it’s not when dad says it.” 

“What?” Dove asks. “He did says it.”

You’re grinning. You love when Dove confuses herself, all kids go through it, where half the time they don’t know what they’re saying until you help them along, but you love Dove’s new phase especially because she’s always been so serious. “What Avery is telling you, baby, is that daddy doesn’t get upset when he says bad words because he’s a grown up.” 

“So when we’re older we can cuss too?” Bethie asks. 

Steve’s jaw drops. “No, Beth! No, none of you need to say bad words, and I don’t either, and I’m really sorry. Can we forget about it?” 

Steve makes hot chocolate and helps you clean the sorry mess you’ve made on the table, and, after some light teasing, everybody forgets he’d reacted so violently to Avery’s surprise. Well, almost. Dove is the first to succumb to a case of the sleepies despite being otherwise reluctant to give in, sitting on his thigh, marshmallows still whole in her drink. She’d barely managed four sips. 

Steve cuddles her to his chest, covering her ear where she nuzzles against him from the sounds of your and Avery’s giggling. “He went pale,” you’re saying. 

Beth offers Steve half of one of her cookies. “You didn’t,” she says. 

If he didn’t have his arms full of Dove he’d scoop her up. “Thank you, Beth. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

“Alright,” you say, twining your fingers and sliding them behind your head, your neck and back clicking audibly in the quiet of the Harrington house winding down, “I think it’s bedtime. Are you done with your drink?” 

You rinse the cups. Steve ferries Dove upstairs, has her down and tucked in in record time, soon enough to catch you as you and the rest of the girls make your way upstairs. Beth and Avery are beautifully silent, weary of their sensitive baby sister where she’s cradled to your chest. 

You attempt to put her down in her crib in your room, but Steve gets the feeling you aren’t successful when a crackly cry breaks out. 

“Oh, no,” Avery says. 

“It’s fine. Let’s go brush our teeth, okay? Mommy has it.” 

They brush their teeth. Steve wipes their faces down with a damp hand towel and has a moment of gratitude just touching their faces. They both look so loved, the way their eyes crinkle, the way they lift their chins, all too happy for Steve to do it. He loves these moments of being a dad most, he might say, second only to getting to talk to them, especially now they’re both holding conversation. They talk to each other none stop; Beth talks to Avery ten times as much as she does anyone else. 

“Are you having a sleepover again?” Steve asks. 

Beth turns to Avery pleasingly. “Can I? Please, please, please.” 

“Yes!” Avery says, big sister extraordinaire. She wraps her arms around Beth’s shoulders, taller, more aware of herself as she presses her cheek to Beth’s and mumbles, “Of course you can. I love you. I want us to have sleepovers every night.” 

You emerge from the bedroom victorious, heading into the bathroom as he and the girls come out. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth,” you say. 

“Gonna get Beth changed.” 

“Okay, I put her nightie on the foot of her bed earlier.” 

It’s routine but not without enjoyment. He makes sure they’re both comfortable in the night's sleepwear and takes care of their hair, before giving Avery’s room a quick half-clean and shaking out the sheets on her bed. Avery has the second biggest bedroom, though Bethie’s is nothing to turn your nose up at, and it gets Steve thinking as they climb up into Avery’s single bed. 

“I think it’s good for you guys to keep your separate rooms for now,” Steve says tentatively, “but what do you think about sharing?” 

The plan was that Dove and Wren would share, but if Avery and Beth are getting along so well, it might not hurt to ask. 

Beth gasps. “Our bedrooms?” 

“Like, you and Avery could both sleep in here. You have a bunk bed, or we could get you a big one to share, and you could share teddies.” 

“I don’t want to share my teddies,” Avery says. 

“Well, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you.” Steve squints at them both. “Bad idea?” 

“I want to share,” Beth says immediately. 

Avery has a better understanding of what that will mean. “Maybe.” 

“You don’t have to,” Steve says. “Your rooms are yours, okay? Maybe we can just get you a bigger bed anyways, Ave. You’re so tall now, in a couple of years you’ll be ten feet tall and we’ll have to bend you in half to get you to school.” 

This is the funniest thing a man could say, apparently —both Beth and Avery burst into girly giggles that ring down the landing. Beth sounds like she might be sick. She laughs so much, falling into Avery’s side as her big sister says, “Dad, that’s silly!” 

“I can show you, if you want. We’ll practise making you into an Avery flavour pretzel, c’mere.” 

She squeals and climbs over Beth’s legs to huddle in the corner of her bed. Steve doesn’t so much as touch her legs and she’s laughing again, panicked, hyper laughter like she can’t decide if she wants to be folded or not. He presses his finger over his smile. “Shh, shh, we can’t wake the babies.” 

“Sorry,” she laughs. 

“My fault. Don’t be sorry.” He gives her leg a squeeze. “How about we start to tuck you in, girls? Do we have everything we need?” 

Beth wants a few things from her own bed, but besides that, they’re ready. Well, they’re supposed to be ready, but Steve wound them up and it’s his own fault, he can’t even complain when they beg him to watch a movie. What’s the harm? he decides, turning on Avery’s TV and pushing their favourite tape into the VHS player. 

“The effect FernGully has on the new generation is amazing,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’ve changed into pyjama pants Steve’s sure you’ve had since you met him and a tank top with straps falling down your shoulders. He wants to pull them back over the curve of your shoulder, but he’s trying to be less smothering.

He fluffs the pillows behind the girls’ backs. “It’s the boy. What’s his name? Dennis? Daniel?” 

“Neither.” You put a fallen teddy back on the bed and turn on Avery’s star-shaped night light before flicking off the big light above. The TV glows green on their legs. 

“Gonna lie down?” Steve says, gentler now, easing them in. 

Avery flops back. Beth curls in on her side, and it reminds Steve of you and him. He can sleep any which way. You’re slightly more particular, but you’re happier curled on to him. He really loves how close they are as sisters, and he has to give Avery some credit, because while Beth is exceedingly easy to love, she’s a clinger, she worships her big sister, which must get heavy from time to time. 

Avery pulls the blankets up over them before Steve can do it himself. He sighs, tucking them both in. Blankets pushed gently under their sides, hair brushed back from their little faces, he says, “Love you, Ave. Love you, Beth,” kissing their foreheads in swift succession. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

“Love you, daddy,” they say at the same time. 

You touch his arm gently before leaning in for your own kisses. You’re slower than he’d been, turning their faces in your hand one after the other to place identical kisses on their cheeks. “Love you, sweetheart,” you say to Avery, and, “Love you, baby,” you say to Beth. Steve holds your back as you do. “Have good dreams, okay? And don’t mess with the TV. One movie tonight is enough, you’ll wake up with sore eyes.” 

He steals another kiss from both of them and then you’re closing the door behind you, the house much darker and quieter than it had been only ten minutes previous. 

“You want a glass of water?” Steve says. 

You catch his hand. “I got you one.” 

Neither you nor Steve bother with anything but bed. He draws back the blankets and you climb in, only stopping momentarily to make sure that Wren’s alright in her crib. You curl in the middle of the bed and wait for Steve to force his way beneath you, which he does, your face resting on his shoulder, your leg stretched across his. Your hip is a lump in the blankets. He lets his hand fall atop it, whistling a tired breath through his teeth. 

“Mm,” you agree, stretching out, curling in tighter. 

“I know,” he says. Can’t forget his best girl, can’t not think about how much he loves you when it’s you and him alone. Mostly. “You alright?” 

“Fine. Tireder than I thought.” Your eyes close, lashes brushing his chest. “H?” 

“What?”

“You okay?”

“Fine, honey. Was just asking you,” he mumbles. His pillow feels like a cloud beneath his head, the mattress even better, and the sheets are a brushed cotton that’s amazingly soft on his skin. 

He turns his nose down onto you for a not so secret sniff. 

“Feels too good to be true.” 

“My turn tonight,” he says. 

“No, baby, it’s my turn.” 

“That’s fine.” He’s not as tired as you, or at least not half as achy. If Wren wakes up crying (not definitely going to happen) or Dove has a late night startle (even less likely, though not impossible), he’ll take the burden tonight. “I wanted babies and I got ‘em.”

“I want them too,” you say. 

“Of course you do,” he says, rubbing your forehead with the tip of his nose affectionately. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Less when they wake me up,” you joke. 

Steve feels up your side to your shoulder for a sleepy cuddle. You don’t realise how soft you can be, how warm you are pressed against him like this, how grateful he is to hold you. Maybe you can read his mind, or maybe as just pure evidence of such a feat, you cup his upper arm in your hand and begin to draw shapes over his skin, breaking the pattern with fleeting scratches. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, honey. I’m sure. You go to sleep now, okay? It’s Saturday tomorrow,” he whispers tenderly. “You don’t have anywhere to be.” 

“‘Cept here,” you whisper back. 

“Love you.” A brush of his lips to your eyebrow. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

“I love you.”

“I love you,” he says. He swears he’s gonna stay up for a bit and count your eyelashes or something, maybe pen you a love poem, write a note about your lips and how they pout when you’re nearly sleeping, but he forgets to when you press your face into the curve of his neck and kiss it clumsily. You fall asleep at the same time, the girls laughing in whispers just a few feet away behind the wall.  

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 9th — lip gloss — 1017 words — cw: slightly nsfw brought to you by james' dirty mind, tw: amab term used for reg's genitalia aka mtf regulus, red heart shaped sunglasses and james potter's thoughts about kneehigh boots

The lights in their flat are dim, music is playing and the air smells faintly of tequila and lime already.

James has been staring at Regulus reapplying her ‘lip combo’ for the past five minutes without blinking. One could reason it’s because Regulus is literally using his sunglasses as a mirror but James argues he wouldn’t have let himself miss out on this for any money in the world either way. He would have found a way to get a front row seat.

The red, heart shaped glasses on his nose do nothing to help him see but that’s why he’s got his contacts in. There’s a cool hand at James’ stubbled jaw, angling him this way and that because Regulus needs proper lighting, Jamie. Stop moving into the shadow! 

First she’d fished around in her small ass purse—how does anyone even fit anything in these little things ever?—and procured a thin, dark red looking pencil of sorts. Regulus has gotten all up in his face, wiggling closer where she was sitting on his leg, rubbing her ass all over James’ lap and by God, James has never felt so lucky and tortured simultaneously. 

Anyway, Regulus had started following the shape of her cupid’s bow, outlining her lips. Her hand had rested right between James’ pecs at first to steady herself, right in the middle of his chest. James hoped she couldn’t feel the wild beating of his heart, the irregular heaving of his torso. She was talking to Pandora while doing so, about some mutual friend James has no clue about but he wasn’t registering any of the words either way. Much too fascinated by the small moles next to Regulus’ left eyes, by her dark lashes, her icy blue eyes. Ruthlessly captivating, breathtaking and immobilising like the bone deep chilling northern sea. 

James isn’t sure he remembers how to swim.

Next is a red lipstick. Regulus’ parts her mouth and James has to suppress a groan. He’s only mildly conscious of the way his palms make their way up over Regulus’ hips, coming to rest in the dip of her waist, thumbs windshield wiping over the silk of her green dress. It’s some sort of nightshirt, actually, with black lace detailing and clearly thrifted. Well loved but in good condition and James has been breaking his brain over what she might be wearing underneath for the better part of the last hour. Ever since Regulus had stepped over the threshold of their flat in her kneehigh boots and that flimsy excuse of a dress that James wants to see crumpled on the floor of his bedroom rather than anywhere else. Preferably while Regulus is splayed out naked on top of his sheets, tits out, cock out. The boots can stay on.

“Fuck,” present James mutters quietly, blinking himself out of his obscene fantasies. Regulus’ leg adjusts and brushes against where James is starting to fill out in his pants. 

James squirms.

“Stop that,” Regulus tsks, tightening her hold on his chin.

The yes, ma’am on the tip of James’ tongue nearly tumbles out but he manages to swallow it back in time.

James tries to glance around the general area around them out of the corners of his eyes, “Is your brother around?”

“Why?” she asks immediately. Her lips are completely filled out with a deep berry sort of red now. Then Regulus is digging around in her purse again.

“Just ’cause,” James replies offhandedly, shrugging.

Regulus hums, low and deep, sceptical and it’s so unfairly sexy. James licks his lips and sighs a long breath out. Level head, Potter, he tells himself. Level head.

The final step seems to be lip gloss. It’s not clear and translucent but rather has a bit of a milky quality to it.

James chokes on nothing. 

Regulus takes it up to her lips and spreads the fluid on her full red lips. It creates a foggy sheen and James is powerless against the mental images of cum slick lips. Both of their cum mixed, James licking it from Regulus’ stomach and then climbing back up. Hovering and tugging at her lower lip until she opens obediently like a good girl and lets James spit it right onto her mouth. 

Regulus leans closer and makes some little p-p-p noises where she smacks her lips together to even out the gloss, presumably. James doesn’t know. Don’t ask James anything right now because the gloss is kind of pulling strings and James is this close to doing something violently indecent to his best friend’s little sister.

Regulus puts the gloss away and then taps against James’ cheek, announcing happily, “Thank you.”

“Any time,” James mumbles.

He expects her to stand up now, join Pandora where she’s conversing with other people on the sofa, but instead Regulus wraps her arms around the back of James’ neck, keeping the close distance. “Y’know,” she starts, shifting in James’ lap, “I haven’t seen Sirius in a while. In fact, I think he might have gone off with Loopy.”

“Lupin,” James corrects automatically, trying to make sense of what Regulus is saying. She’s so warm and soft pressed against him, it’s distracting.

Regulus makes a whatever noise and tilts her head, “I’m guessing they went to his flat instead. Rumour has it, it’s close by.”

James nods in affirmation because that’s true. Remus does live close by.

Regulus’ fingers wind themselves into the curls at James’ nape, “Smart lads. Going somewhere a little more private.”

James nods again, numbly. He feels stupid in the head. 

“By the way,” Regulus keeps going, “Have I seen your room in this flat yet?”

And James might be stupid but he’s not an idiot.

A slow grin spreads over his face and then James has to lean forward to muffle an equally happy as aroused groan into the crook of Regulus’ pale neck. 

“Is that a yes?”

James leaves a kiss on her cheek when he pulls back, squeezes her hips and then lifts them both off the chair, ushering Regulus through the crowd and into his room.

When they come back out, Regulus’ legs are wobbly and there’s red lipstick stains all over James’ mouth and neck and the heady taste of cum in his mouth.

[cal-flakes]

mean!rafe with prompt 30

╰┈➤ prompt thirty, mean/dealer!rafe

warnings: swearing, violence. (i changed this a bit because i really wanted to write this with a not-so mean rafe)

‘what are you? my dad?’ the snarky words circled in his mind as he fidgeted with his hands, eyes on the road as barry drove. “what’s got you in such a mood man?” his friend teased as he steered the car with ease. “she’s too fucking nice, that’s what” he retorted, leaning on his hand as his arm rested against the window. “too nice? the fuck you mean’ too nice?” barry chuckled, brows furrowed in confusion.

rafe sighed as his head fell back against the passenger seat, thinking over the situation from earlier. if he’d just agreed to go with her, he wouldn’t be so anxious, he thought.

“we got in a- in an argument earlier-” he started, stumbling over his words before barry cut him off. “argument? what’d you do?” he laughed, glancing at his frustrated friend. “i didn’t do anything bad man, was’ just tryin’ to protect her y’know?” he rambled, his eyes flitting around as the neared the coast.

“see- she came downstairs, all dressed up for the fuckin’ bonfire and shit man, and i- and i told her not to wear that shit, said’ she’d get too cold or someone would do something” sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “and look, i know it sounds like i was being a dick, but i just- just want her to be safe, y’know? i don’t know man, i just have a bad feeling..”

barry nodded along as rafe spoke, for once actually understanding what he was saying, rather than him speaking in incoherent mutters. “nah man, i get you..” he agreed, eyes narrowing at the street sign with directions to the beach. “listen bro, we could just fuckin’ go down there, find her? put your mind at ease or somethin’ y’know?” he suggested, using his free hand to toss the end of his joint out the window. the pair nodded in sync as silence ensued, both rafe and barry now focused on the task at hand, finding y/n.

rafe was first out of the car once they pulled up, his eyes fixing on the glowing orange light of the annual bonfire, guiding them both to it. “yo man, where abouts’ you think she’ll be?” barry called, aware of the sudden loudness surrounding them. “she’s wearing a white dress kinda’ thing, s’got flowers on it” rafe called back as the pair exchanged a knowing nod, parting ways to scour the groups of young adults.

after what felt like forever of pushing and shoving, rafe’s eyes fell on a small frame, cowering into the rocks as a taller boy caged her in. closing in, his eyes narrowed as his vision became clearer, and the look on her face said it all. anger coursed through the veins in his hands as they clenched, his eyes locking onto her wide ones, a nervous look behind them.

as well as his sight, his hearing only got better as he got closer to the interaction. “i don’t see your boyfriend anywhere, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him..”

rafe’s ears perked up at the sly tone, suddenly finding himself spinning the boy around to face him. “no but this will you fuckin’ cunt” he spat, launching himself forward to land a nasty right hook to the boys jaw, who turned out to be significantly smaller than himself.

once the boys back met the ground, rafe stood over him tauntingly, almost daring him to get back up.

satisfied with his intimidation, his eyes wandered to the trembling girl beside him, her hands grasping at his untucked shirt. “you’ okay sweetheart?” he cooed, turning fully to cup her face while barry dealt with his newest victim. “mhm..” she hummed, letting her head fall into his chest as she wrapped her arms around his lean torso.

“m’sorry rafe..” she whimpered as she pulled away from the hug, her glassy eyes meeting his hardened ones. “you were right..”

“don’t you apologise, alright? you’ve got nothing to be sorry for, this was that assholes fault, not yours” rafe stated sternly as his hands found her face once more, forcing her to look at him. “okay..” she whispered, her lip quivering slightly.

“c’mon, let’s go home..”

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Here’s uhhhhh more than that from a buddietommy vacation threesome fic-

The day is hot enough that Buck is curled up like a bug on the dock between them. He’d stayed in the water longer than Tommy or Eddie had, and had swum out further than either of them, so when he’d crawled back up onto the old wood planks he’d chugged an entire water bottle and promptly passed out. Eddie glances down at his bare torso, just starting to get a little pink.

“Should probably get sunscreen on him again.”

Tommy snorts as he leans backwards, stretching out to grab the spray can. “And you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to be a dad.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie says as Buck, still asleep, makes a similar sound when Tommy mists him all over with cold sunscreen. “It’s been months, man, that’s so long for a kid, who knows what he’s even into now-”

“Minecraft, right?” Tommy says as he smooths his hand over a few places the sunscreen pooled on his boyfriend’s back. “Wasn’t he on a video call with you and Buck about it for like three hours on Friday? Something about- uh- command blocks?”

Eddie is mildly impressed Tommy remembers the word — maybe — because he certainly doesn’t. Buck had only been slightly better at following along than he had as they’d squinted at the probably impressive pixels on the laptop screen. “I don’t know, I just feel like…” Every morning, still, he wakes up and thinks he needs to get Chris’ breakfast started. Whole parts of his being are wired around taking care of his kid, but since he’s been gone Eddie has been trying — in fits and starts and most of the time guiltily — to figure out what the rest of him is for. It’s part of what got him into the whole mess in the first place, chasing after the dreams of a 19 year old who got those dreams from his parents. A nice wife (but they never liked her, did they) and a good job (but firefighting is too dangerous, isn’t it) and a picket fence (one closer to home, Eddie, you’ve gone too far away.) So he owed it to Chris, owed it to himself, to figure out what the fuck he actually wants, so he doesn’t keep twisting himself into knots and taking out everyone around him when the line breaks. He’s not sure he’s any closer to whatever that is — other than it’s unlikely to include a wife of any kind — but in the time he’s taken trying, what if other things got lost in the upheaval? “I keep thinking I’ll just- not remember to do something. Forget how field trip permissions slips work, or not know what shoe size he wears, or- I don’t know. Anything. I won’t pack his lunch and it won’t be the end of the world but he’ll be hungry that day.”

Tommy leans back on his palms and looks across at him, quiet and thoughtful for a few moments in that way he has, like he’s thinking through every possible response before he speaks. He is, maybe; he’d confessed to Eddie that he’d spoken too quickly when he was younger, is embarrassed about a lot of the dumb shit he’d said, so he tries to take his time with his words now. “Eddie. You took us up here this weekend to check and make sure this place is accessible to take your kid to this summer. And- I get that’s a big thing, a big gesture, and maybe you’re worried about messing up the small stuff, but… You’ve still got his favorite kind of jelly in the fridge that nobody else eats. You love him, and he knows that. You’re gonna do fine.” He shrugs. “And he’s almost fourteen, if you forget to hand him lunch he’s gonna let you know.”

Eddie huffs a small laugh. “Yeah, I guess he will.” He groans a little, shaking his head. “Fourteen years old, that’s fucking crazy. I don’t feel old enough for that to be true.”

Tommy rolls his neck so it audibly cracks. “Yeah, yeah, you whippersnapper.”

Eddie grins at him. “You feeling the exercise, old man? Need to go lay down?” He cackles and leans away as Tommy grabs the can and sprays a burst of sunscreen at him.

Between them Buck grunts at the commotion, and rolls towards Eddie. He presses his face into the meat of his bare side above his trunks, and wraps his long arms around his torso. Eddie glances up at Tommy, who just looks fondly amused. “Uh. Wrong guy, there, bud.”

Buck stills, and then pulls back a little to squint up at him. Eddie’s not particularly ticklish, but something like goosebump are shivering across the skin of his stomach where Buck’s forearm rests against him. He has to actively try not to shudder as Buck pulls back and rolls the other way, Eddie watching hypnotized as he gives Tommy the same treatment. Buck presses a little kiss onto Tommy’s hip, in the spot he had just been cuddled into on Eddie, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry.

Tommy lets out a little breath, and Eddie doesn’t think he’ll be able to use the sun as an excuse for how pink he’s gotten as his eyes snap up to the other man’s face. Except- he’d been expecting a raised eyebrow, a flat mouth, some visual indicator of disapproval, that this is one step Buckandeddie too far, that all the rest of their codependent lives have been fine, a platonic kind of care built over years of being there for each other through the worst of the worst, but now the uncomfortable answer to what Eddie wants, the uncomfortable answer he’s been trying to avoid because it's something he cannot have, has been found out and the messy insides of him will have once again ruined something good. But what he finds is a tiny little smile and heavy eyes that-

Well, they don’t look disapproving in the slightest.

“You guys hungry?” Buck mutters, words muffled by Tommy’s skin. “We should go start the grill.”

Tommy’s little smile gets wide and lazy, eyes still stuck on Eddie. “I could eat,” he says.

Tagging @iinryer @shitouttabuck @butchdiaz @chronicowboy @homerforsure @rewritetheending @bigfootsmom if you have anything you want to share!

[avelera]

Let's Play: What's Wrong with this Sculpture?

Following in the theme of sharing astonishing moments of ancient sculpture pedantry here on Tumblr, based on my brief undergraduate stint as a T.A of ancient art history, I thought I'd share one of my other proudest moments of being an absolutely insufferable know-it-all about ancient sculptures.

In the process, I hope I can also share some of the sort of largely useless (from a practical perspective) information that Tumblr tends to glory in, so buckle up buttercups.

This question was posed to me on a walking tour of the Capitoline Museum in my ancient art history class while I was living abroad. Our professor, a delightfully curmudgeonly Belgian, stopped in front and asked us to figure out why this sculpture is just plain wrong.

I intend to walk you through the process of how I got the right answer and, after gaining my teacher's rare approval, glowed with enough serotonin to power a small nuclear reactor.

So, let's return to the original question: what is wrong with this sculpture?

Because if you are truly eagle-eyed you should be able to spot what very famous sculpture this actually is, before an overly imaginative Frenchman brought it back wrong.

Hint #1: It was incorrectly restored.

Look closely at the the difference of the patina, or color of the stone. It's a bit hard to tell in this photo, but the head was added later. It's a paler white than the core of the torso, which is what we have of the original sculpture.

Hint #2: It was incorrectly restored in the 18th century by a Frenchman (Pierre-Étienne Monnot) who made some, shall we say, creative interpretations of what's going on here.

You can tell it's by an 18th c. Frenchman because the facial features are so delicate. Ancient statues tend to have less narrow and delicate chins and noses. In general, that is a dead giveaway when something is 18th century French vs. Ancient Greek or Roman.

Here's a good example. The first sculpture is 18th c. French, the second is the famous Venus de Milo. Note her blockier chin and less delicate features. So in the future, you can tell these sort of later additions to Greek or Roman sculptures if they added a new head because 17-19th century sculptors in Europe had tools (like finer drill tips) and tastes (beauty standards that favored more delicate men and women) that led to a pronounced difference in the faces.

Hint #3: Check out the anatomy of his lower shoulder. That's another addition, that arm should not be coming straight out of a torso where the muscle, if you look closely, is turned inward.

Seriously, that looks painful.

Hint #4: The sword he's holding up is just total nonsense for the Roman era. I mean, the restoration makes no secret of the fact that this sword is a later addition, but it's also just an absolute nonsense sword with its silly little curved cross guard. This Frenchman literally just made it up.

Here's an ancient sculpture with a sword in it that actually looks right:

From the Ludovisi Gaul, a famous Hellenistic Baroque work of Greek sculpture. Note the much blockier sword though I will admit, it could be a later addition, I don't know for 100% certain, but I'm pretty sure it's the original. Regardless, it fits the sculpture much better and let me add that sword I'm criticizing is completely made up for the sculpture we're talking about and is not there in the original sculpture that was incorrectly restored.

Ok, so those are all the hints.

Look closely at the body of the first sculpture. Cut away the arms that are not connected to the body correctly, the sword that shouldn't be there, the face that was far too delicate. When you separate those later additions out, can you tell me what sculpture that actually is?

Because here is the reveal!

The Discus Thrower, aka, the Discobolus by Myron.

The French restorationist got carried away by his own imagination, saw a twisted torso and thought it could only possibly be a warrior in the midst of twisting around to fend off a blow, not an athlete in the midst of a demonstration of skill. It's a martial, fanciful read that completely misinterpreted the subject.

This is why most restoration today employs a much lighter touch, rather than trying to reattach pieces incorrectly, they tend to just outline where the missing pieces are with a light sketch of an educated guess of what might have actually been there. Faulty restorations like the Capitoline Discobolus is one reason for this modern stylistic principle when it comes to restoration work.

When my professor asked us to identify the correct original sculpture that day on the museum tour, it was the sword that pinged me as wrong first, but zeroing in on the core of the sculpture, the torso, is what revealed the true statue underneath.

This notoriously difficult to please professor was very proud when I blurted out, "It's the Discus Thrower!" and the high-octane serotonin I got from his approval probably could have propelled me into the sun that day, and brought to you Yet Another Moment of Ancient Sculpture Pedantry.

[dem0batz]

Love and Deep Possession

Sylus/MC/Zayne

Summary

Sick of Zayne's possessive need to be the only one in MC's heart, Sylus decides it's time to prove a point to the good doctor. How will Zayne handle his jealously when it comes to sharing her?

Author's Note: The long awaited by no one but me fic featuring Sylus/MC/Zayne. MC is based off of my character, Opal.

🔞Content Warnings: Why-Choose, dubcon, phone/videochat sex, exam room oral

Word Count: >3000 || Read on AO3

Opal’s eyes dart across the tablet screen as she reads the articles yet again, absorbing the information on how to be respected like a boss and how to make an opponent fall to their knees with a single glance. Even she had to admit that the articles were a little ridiculous and felt silly reading them, but she only had a week to prepare for an undercover mission at some fancy elite dinner.

“I’m offended that you still feel the need to read those when you came all this way for my help.”

Even after all these months, Sylus’s deep cadence still made her spine tingle, making her stomach flutter. After his offer to help her learn the ropes of navigating the criminal world, she couldn’t turn down such assistance that would only help her be a better hunter and in turn, do her job more efficiently. Sylus was a rare resource and admittedly, the line between Hunter and informant had been blurred between the two of them from the very first meeting.

Few knew that she was… involved with the Onychinus leader. Not even Tara or their team leader Captain Jenna knew of the professional side of her relationship with him, let alone the unprofessional side. How could she explain to her boss and co-worker that she essentially made a deal with the devil for answers about her past and the odd relations to the Aether Core in her heart? Opal’s relationship with Sylus was mostly a self-serving one and no amount of reasoning would be accepted by the association. She would lose her license and job faster than someone could shout “Wanderer!”

Every meet up with Sylus was a risk, but he had proven himself more than once that whatever was happening between the two of them was equally beneficial and impossible to ignore.

Even if it turns out that for this particular visit, he was far more of a distraction than a help.

Her hair is pushed aside and soft lips graze the side of her neck.

“You seem tense, sweetie. Looks like you need a break, and I know just how to help you relax.”

“I think your idea of ‘relaxing’ will wear me out too much to prepare for this dinner.”

“Maybe,” he teases, placing another tingly kiss below her ear. His voice lowers to a warm purr. “But I quite like the idea of you exhausted in my bed.”

A soft sigh falls from her lips as her head sinks to rest on his shoulder. Just as her body relaxes into the sensation and Sylus’s hands creep around her torso, the phone trills. Before her eyes even open to see who it is, he swipes to answer the call.

“Dr. Zayne, how nice of you check in.”

Like a bucket of ice water had been poured atop her head, she jolts up to swipe the phone from the stand. Red mist swirls around her limbs, pinning her to the chair and keeping her rooted as Sylus continues his leisurely petting. He speaks in her ear, though his ruby eyes are directed at the small screen in smug satisfaction.

“Did you have a scheduled virtual exam that you forgot to tell me about, sweetie? Should I perform the physical for you, doctor? You must be rather concerned about your patient to be calling this late…” Sylus baits.

“Sylus—”

“It’s rude to interrupt, kitten. I’m speaking to the doctor right now.”

Opal chances a look at the screen where a stoic Zayne watches, hands steepled beneath his chin. He was clearly still at the hospital, though it was not a surprise. It’s more surprising when he actually makes it to his own apartment instead of sleeping on the cot in his office or her couch.

“It would seem I called at a bad time. I’ll speak to you later, Opal.”

Zayne leans forward to end the call but Sylus speaks before he is able.

“Oh there’s really no need. Stay for a while and chat. We were just discussing relaxation techniques. Perhaps you could offer some sound medical insight.”

With that, Sylus releases the shadows of his Evol to pick her up and take her seat.

Ensuring that the phone’s camera is aimed directly at her, he slides his hands under her sleep dress. Slowly hiking the material up her thighs with his large hands, he makes a show of slipping the panties down her legs, teasing Zayne with flashes of soft skin.

Her face heats as Sylus guides her to sit on his lap and then drapes each of her knees over the armrests of the chair. The only thing keeping Zayne from getting a full view is the silky crimson nightgown draping between her legs.

“Sylus—” she tries again, body heating to an unbearable degree as her eyes find Zayne’s through the device. 

Sure, she and Zayne had a more than friendly relationship that often crossed the boundaries between patient and doctor, or even friends, but nothing between the them had ever gotten to this point. She still wasn’t even entirely sure how he felt about her. It was obvious that he cared, but she didn’t know whether it was in a friendly or… more way.

“He doesn’t mind. Do you, Zayne?” Sylus asks.

Zayne’s jaw ticks but he hasn’t made another effort to hang up.

A victorious smirk pulls at Sylus’s lips, the sight obstructed from her view as his warm hands find their place on her body once more.

“Now why don’t you be a good girl and let your doctor and me perform our check-up, hmm?”

Her breathing stutters when Sylus’s hands graze the underside of her breasts, smoothing over the soft silk coving them, though it does nothing to conceal the peaked buds straining against it. His lips find her neck again, wet kisses turning to soft nibbles as he gropes her over the nightgown until she’s panting and grinding against nothing in a desperate search for more friction.

Her soft moans sound over the speaker right into the earbuds that Zayne had put in. His eyes flick to the office door, ensuring he had locked it behind him. The last thing he needed right now was for Greyson to barge in. There were already too many men vying for Opal’s attention and even the thought of the young doctor accidentally catching a glimpse is enough to set him on edge.

Finally, Sylus puts everyone out of their misery, sliding the hem of the gown up and revealing her shiny, slick core. It was enough to coat her thighs and was quite obvious even through the dim lighting of a phone screen.

Zayne sucks in a breath at the sight, though it was barely audible over Opal’s intoxicating mewls. Sylus slides a finger down her slit, parting the folds to give him an unmistakable view of the pretty pussy he had been fantasizing about for so long. She was so much more perfect than his mind could have ever conjured.

“Would you look at that,” Sylus chuckles. Pulling his fingers from her center despite her whining protest, he holds them up to the light. His fingers part, allowing the slick to web between them. Sucking them into his mouth, he hums in satisfaction. “Divine.”

She lost track of time as Sylus spread her out on his lap and played with her, bringing her to the edge over and over again until her legs shook and she felt madness taking over. Just as she was on the edge of the peak for the umpteenth time, he pulls away with a sadistic chuckle, demon that he was. A tormented cry rips from her throat as she sinks into his body with defeat.

“Sylus, please!” she whimpers, tears streaking down her cheeks in frustration. She couldn’t even bring herself to feel any shame in the moment at Zayne seeing her in such a pathetic state.

“What do you think, doctor? Has she been good for us? Or should we let her suffer a little longer?”

Silence erupts from the other line for several beats. The only sounds are her sweet pleas and the wet squelching between her legs when Sylus begins his steady torment once again.

“Go on, sweetie. Ask the good doctor to let you cum.”

“Zayne,” she mewls. “Please...”

When she trails off, Sylus clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“Now, now, kitten. If you can’t ask for what you want, how are we supposed to provide?”

Her throat bobs as the rush of embarrassment floods back, face heating at the prospect. But right now she was so wound up that she needed the release more than her dignity. She looks to the camera, meeting Zayne’s eyes through screen.

Though stiff as ever, he looked so handsome with his sleeves rolled up and top buttons of his shirt undone. The only indications that he was winding down for the day because his hair was still perfectly styled, and though he must be exhausted, not a hint of it shows.

“Zayne,” she swallows nervously, trying again and hoping she wouldn’t come to regret this. “Please let me cum.”

Sylus rewards her with more pressure between her legs, barely any effort needed at this point to send her reeling toward the top of that peak again. Shivers wrack through her, moans echoing off of the dark walls of the study and filling Zayne’s ears like a symphony. He couldn’t take it if she were denied again, her pain feeling like his own as the aching erection beneath his desk throbs out of control and he subtly presses down on it with a firm hand.

“Let her orgasm,” Zayne says quietly, voice clipped.

Sylus grins like the devil he is.

“Doctor’s orders, sweetie.”

The swirling of his teasing fingers finally give her what she’s been begging for, making her fall apart on his lap with a cry. Sylus drapes an arm over her center, holding her in place while he presses his own painful erection into her back. She falls limp against him with exhaustion.

“Thanks for checking in, Zayne but as you can see, I have things under control here.”

Clearly having made whatever point he aimed to, Sylus leans forward with Opal still spread out on his lap and ends the call.

“Why do you have to antagonize him?” Opal asks, voice laced with sleepiness though she knew her night was far from over.

“Because he thinks you’re just his. You’re not,” Sylus growls in her ear, that careful control of his slipping now that there wasn’t an audience for his depravity.

He makes quick work of his trousers, oblivious to the fact, or simply not caring, that the designer material was soaked in her essence. His long pale cock springs free, the tip an angry red and slick from denying himself.

“You’re ridiculous. Zayne doesn’t-- ahh!” Opal loses her train of thought as Sylus impales her where they sit, cutting her off with the sounds of their shared bliss. She quivers around his pulsing cock, making his head spin at how good she feels.

“He does,” Sylus insists with a hard thrust, emphasizing his point as his arms tighten to keep her from squirming. “And you know how I feel about sharing.”

She did know. Sylus had taken to learning about Rafayel, Xavier, and Zayne surprisingly well. In fact, he had known about them long before she disclosed her relationships with the other men in her life because Sylus was a certified stalker.

“As long as you get your fair share,” Opal repeats the words Syus had said to her when they finally had that conversation.

“That’s right, kitten. The hunter knows how to share and the artist… well, you seem to know how to make him behave. The doctor though?” Another hard thrust to make her cry out and quiver. “He seems to think that if only he waits long enough— is patient for long enough, that he’ll eventually have you all to himself. And I’m here to show him that won’t be happening.”

Days later, Opal sits in an exam room wearing a gown, awaiting the arrival of the doctor for her weekly check-up. She is equal parts embarrassed and worried about how things will be with Zayne after that call with Sylus. 

Apparently she had nothing to worry about because form the moment he walked in, Zayne was the picture of professionalism, though she expected no less. What she did not expect was the room temperature reservation in his tone as he checked her stats, something totally normal for any other patient he was seeing.

But to Opal, it was off.

Since they found themselves in one another’s lives again, they had developed a friendly— even flirty rapport, and had been growing closer by the week. Now, it was just like that first appointment all over again.

“No dramatic changes from last week. That’s good,” he says. Pulling the stethoscope from her chest, he loops it over his neck. “Though I suspect you still are not getting enough sleep.”

The implication of why she hasn’t been getting enough rest hangs in the air like a weight. He’s using the same voice he uses with his staff and other patients; the one where he is trying to be polite and cordial but keeping the conversation clinical. Cold Analysis. Though his tone seems to have an icy undercurrent that he has never directed at her before.

It feels like an accusation.

Even though he participated in whatever that night was.

He’s so hard to read.

The pen scribbles across the clipboard as Zayne takes his notes. He hasn’t looked Opal in the eye once since entering the exam room.

Unable to take this weirdness any longer, she decides to rip off the bandage. The only way to face this was like any other problem she encountered in life. Head-on.

Her face heats as she forces out the words.

“I’m sorry about that night. Sylus can be… intense is the nicest way I can put it,” she forces out a laugh.

Zane’s only response is a hum of acknowledgment. The incessant scratch of pen on paper fills the silence, only making it all the louder.

“Why won’t you talk to me, Zayne?”

“We’re talking right now.”

“You know what I mean…”

Silence.

“You can’t even look at me.” Opal’s voice shakes, practically pleading with him to open up. At a loss for anything else to do, she cups his cheeks and pulls his gaze to meet hers. Those forest green eyes finally break from the paperwork. “Please.”

He lets out a deep sigh, placing the pen and clipboard on the counter.

What he does say takes her by surprise.

“Because with you here, all I can think about is how beautiful you looked spread out on his lap. Asking for my permission to…” He trails off with another deep sigh, swiping a frustrated hand through his dark strands. “It’s taking every ounce of professionalism I possess as your physician— and respect as your friend— to not lay you out right here and wrap your thighs around my head so I can find out for myself if you taste as sweet as I have been imagining.”

Her lips part in shock at the confession, catching the bottom one between her teeth to stifle the words wanting to follow. It would be a lie to say she hasn’t been thinking about him in this way for a very long time. Ever since they were young. Anyone with eyes could see that Zayne was absolutely gorgeous but that cold attitude of his is difficult for anyone to bypass. She was one of the few people he allowed into his icy fortress, so she never pushed, not wanting to take that for granted.

But it was too late for that at this point, wasn’t it?

“So find out.”

Zayne goes still at her words.

When he makes no move to either back away or put a stop to this, she takes the risk of carefully sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose. Closing the arms, she places them safely atop his clipboard then slowly lies back, lifting her feet to rest on the edge of the exam table.

Still Zayne doesn’t move, frozen like an ice sculpture as he analyzes Opal with cold calculation.

After a moment of nothing still, she begins to panic as shame and doubt take over.

This was a mistake.

Just because he took Sylus’s bait that night doesn’t mean he ever wanted to continue whatever was started.

When her watch begins to beep, indicating an increased heart rate, it seems to break whatever spell Zayne had been under. His attention drops to the note the number pulsing on the screen. However, he doesn’t seem concerned as he presses the button on the side to suppress the beeping and his gaze finds hers. Chilly fingers run up the outer part of her thighs, pushing the gown up with a trail of goosebumps in their wake until cool air kisses her center.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes,” Opal rushes out, not wanting to give him another moment to over think it. “I want you, Zayne. Please.”

There was that word again. And she says it so sweetly.

Beautiful.

Grabbing her hips, he yanks her down the table until her bottom rests on the edge, making her yelp in surprise at his suddenly aggressive nature. As he lowers to one knee, Zayne places each of her knees over his shoulders, making him the only thing to keep her propped up.

Only then, does he allow his eyes to trail down her body. He would have preferred for their first time together like this to be in her own clothing and not a hospital gown. Would have liked to court her properly in his own time, but he had done enough waiting and look where it had landed them. He had been the shining example of patience when it came to her, but now he was feeling selfishly spurred on with her consent.

Pacing himself, he starts with a light kiss on the pretty little bud peeking out between her folds. The moment his lips come into contact, her juices glossing his tastebuds, he groans into her. Soft, lean fingers grip under her thighs, pushing them back to open her up more as his tongue flicks out to lick from bottom to top, gathering the taste. He kisses her pussy the way he has been dreaming of kissing her mouth, something else he will have to remedy soon.

After having a taste of her, he wouldn’t be letting her slip through his fingers again.

Even if it meant sharing her with the artist and that criminal.

Even if the thought made his blood frost over.

“Zayne,” she gasps, fingers threading lightly through his hair.

Normally, he would be irritated that his perfectly coiffed hair was being mussed up, but he finds he rather likes the feeling of her nails on his scalp.

The only response to his name on her lips is to keep going, tongue dipping into her slick cavern and coating himself with her sweet flavor.

He hates to admit it, even if only to himself, but Sylus had been correct— Opal was absolutely divine.

[pookietv]

number one fan | george clarke

this was requested! and i couldn't resist the end lmao so !!

george had always been supportive. he liked to consider himself his friends biggest fans, always turning up to whatever may be important to them, from arthur's tours, to his home friends graduations, he always wanted to be there and be able to show his pride in the people in his life.

so when he began dating a singer, it was to no one's surprise that he became the biggest fan out there.

your music a staple of the household, to the point where an intervention was called by arthur and chris.

"geooooorge can we not put on different music now?" chris said with a slight smile on his face as he rolled his eyes jokingly.

"you know we love y/n's music but george, this is a little excessive," arthur agreed, giggling to himself a little.

"just let this song finish! its the best one," he protested whilst cooking at the kitchen island, earning a joking groan from arthur.

"i'm convinced that just by living in this house we may know her lyrics better then she knows them," chris laughed, and george just shrugged with a mockingly innocent look.

when you first got signed by a manager, changing from original songs uploaded to youtube to a real publishing plan.

"george?" you grinned to yourself as you went into his room, having been let in by arthur, seeing him sat at his desk, seeing you and pulling his headphones off his head.

"hey, you! didn't know you were coming around today," he said, standing to press a quick kiss to your hairline, and you could barely stop yourself grinning at him like the cheshire cat.

"what's that look for?" he asked as he pulled away, quirking his head slightly as a small smile approached his face too.

"i got offered to be signed! by a real label! they actually want me to be under their label!" you practically babbled out, watching george's grin grow wider before wrapping you in a hug, practically lifting you from the ground.

"no way! that's amazing, darling," he muffled into your hair, his arms around your torso only wrapping tighter, "i'm so so so proud," he beamed, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

"thank you george," you smiled back, your cheeks glazed with red, "you've been so supportive, and i appreciate it so much,"

"so, now can i convince you to write a whole album about your biggest fan?" he teased, and you playfully pushed his chest.

"well, maybe i could write a song for arthur, i mean he was so lovely letting me open for his tour, he definitely has been a loyal fan..." you teased in return, pretending to ponder, causing george to mock pout.

"hey, hello, i am your biggest fan you muppet!"

when your first album released, and it was all george could yap about for at least a month afterwards.

when he featured on his bach and arthur's podcast? practically the first thing to leave his mouth.

"yeah, so i've not been up to too much, y/n was really busy recently so we decided now she's done and the album's released, we might try and go away somewhere - the album's out now on all streaming platforms! go listen, she's brill," he says with a cheesy grin on his face.

"what was the timer on george mentioning y/n there? under five minutes?" bach laughed, george's face going slightly red as he shrugged.

"it is a good album, in his defence," arthur laughed a little.

when he's in one of chris' videos? practically every goal he scored was backdropped by the beat change of one of your songs.

"if you miss this one, we're not letting you aux the flat for a week," chris chided with a grin, and george rolled his eyes as he placed the ball down, lining it up and kicking it in.

"see? he's the biggest fan around! the second the thought of not playing y/n's new album 24/7 is unthinkable to george," arthur laughed, before continuing, "i don't even live with you guys and i think i've heard y/n's music more times then i have actually met her in person."

going to your first big concert?

you had offered him to be backstage, but he had said no - of course he wanted to be in the front, seeing you perform like he was anyone else, he wanted to see you properly, from the floor.

"you're sure you don't wanna be backstage?" you had asked him on facetime earlier that day, when you were already at the venue for sound checks but he had assured you no.

"we're all coming in the pit, we've gotta see it like a normal concert!" he grinned down the phone, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

"you at least gonna stand at the back so you guys don't get like, mobbed or squashed or something? 'cause people might ask for photos," you said, slightly concerned for him, but he just shook his head.

"we can take photos afterwards with whoever wants one - i'm not standing at the back and barely seeing anything just cause some people may try and be rude and take photos with us whilst you're performing, that's not fair to you," he hummed slightly down the phone, "plus, chris wouldn't be able to see from the back and you know that," he laughed a little at his own joke

you cracked a small smile as you shook your head, "you're so stubborn, george, you know that?"

and when he showed up to the concert, with both of the arthurs and chris, all stood as close to the front as they could be, and before you could even notice anything else, you saw george's shit eating grin at his shirt, which he wore in a teasing sort of pride, that just said 'i fucked the singer', and as he saw your eyes roll, you could hear his laugh from the crowd.

[hope-drunk]

- thoroughfare | e. williams

| on the way to seattle, you decide to play a small game with ellie.

| content warning: f!reader, bottom!reader, top!ellie, oral (r receiving), pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl), implies ellie is taller than reader, reader takes dina’s role in the game (sorry dina), hunter and prey kink but not really, barely proofread and i hate this <3

Traveling through the woods with Ellie was more fun than you’d thought it would be. The long stretches on horseback felt like nothing when it was just you two talking. After you had found Jackson, albeit on accident, two years ago, you and Ellie became friends very quickly. 

You two tried not to talk about the trip you were taking. Once she came to you with a location, there was no question in your mind about whether or not you would go with her. So, here you are now. Arms wrapped along Ellie’s torso, enjoying the scenery, and giggling like a maniac at some pun she’s said.

Once the laughter dies down, Ellie helps you off Shimmer, then puts her by a stream.

“We should stop for the night. Get some rest.” she says, taking out her sleeping bag, and a shotgun.

“Okay, yeah.”  you say, following in her stride and getting your own sleeping bag out.

You were in a comfortable silence, setting up everything you needed to have a successful night.

“Do you want first or second shift?”  you asked her.

“I’ll do both, just sleep.”

You scoff at her, “Ellie, if you’re the one getting us to Seattle I think it’s important you get some rest.” She shakes her head at you. “Please, for me.”

Ellie can’t deny the look you give her, your eyes are laced with genuine concern for her well being. It hasn’t been easy for her, and you know she doesn’t like sleeping because it just brings back the memories, but you figure something is better than nothing.

“Alright, I’ll take first shift.” she says, knowing she’ll “accidentally” let you sleep longer than you intend to.

She’s standing now, and your once worried eyes are now crinkled by a smile. 

“Thank you, Ellie.”

“Whatever gets you there safely.” she replies, rubbing the inked fern covering her forearm.

“I’m gonna go look around while there’s still daylight, I need to stretch my legs.” you say, already starting to wander.

Ellie nods her head at you.

You don’t plan to go far, just enough to look at the different wildlife that lives out here. You walk around for about twenty minutes before Ellie calls your name.

“It’s getting too dark, come back.” she says. 

“Why don’t you come and find me?” you yell back to her.

You hear her grumble to herself, and let out a sigh, then you hear the crunch of leaves under her beaten up shoes. This is your sign to scramble. You run behind a tree, one with a large trunk and sagging branches. Peeking out from behind, you find Ellie’s face through the branches. Her head was whipping around for any sign of you. You put your hands over your face, having to stifle your laugh, trying not to give yourself away. When you removed the digits from your eyes, Ellie was gone.

Now it was your turn to whip your head around. Your heart was suddenly racing. You knew she wasn’t in danger, but you didn’t know the reaction she would have to your impromptu game of hide and seek.

You felt hands on your shoulders. “Got ya.” Ellie whispers in your ear.

You gasp and she whips you around to face her. Usually, Ellie had a face that would comfort you. Right now? You were a bit intimidated by her. It felt like she had grown six inches since you saw her moments before. Her eyes even looked darker in this light. You try to back away from her, but you don't get far before you hit the tree that was once protecting you from her. 

“Oh, first you’re hiding from me, now you’re trying t’run?” she says, moving impossibly closer to you. 

The game wasn’t funny to you anymore. Actually, it was incredibly serious, and that was proven by the wetness that you felt pooling in your panties.

“Just wanted to play a game, Ells.” you say, suddenly finding your shoes very interesting.

Grabbing your chin, she says, “Don’t tell me you’re all shy now.” She follows your eyes every time that you try to look away.

For a second, just a second, you thought she was actually mad. But you could see her lips fighting a smile. Leaning down towards you, her nose brushes against yours.

“Tell me you want this.” Ellie says, whispering like you were in a room full of people. 

“I want it.” 

Her lips are on yours as soon as you finish the sentence. The hand that was holding your chin has now moved to your cheek, thumb caressing your face tenderly. Your hips move to meet hers, back arching off the tree. Ellie gets the hint, and uses her spare hand to reach down between your bodies. She undoes your pant button with ease, and shoves her hand into your jeans. You gasp as she begins to rub your clit over your underwear. 

“Oh, Ellie.” you say while she moves her kisses to your neck.

“Don’t know why I’ve been waiting to do this.” she mumbles on your skin.

Stopping her assault on your neck, her hands smooth down your body before she practically rips your jeans and panties down to the ground. Her foot kicks your legs further apart before she drops to her knees in front of you. She runs a finger through your slick folds, humming in approval before diving in to taste you.

She sucks hard on your clit, causing your hand to move to her auburn hair, trying to steady yourself. Ellie sneaks a large hand up your shirt, toying with your nipple. You didn’t think you’d ever be this happy at forgetting to put a bra on. Her tongue was moving quickly through your folds. You look down at her, only to be met by her eyes. 

The moan you let out is almost pornagraphic, and you swear you can feel Ellie smirk into your cunt. Her position on the ground made it feel like she was praying to you, she was worshipping your cunt. 

Ellie comes up for a breath, thumb moving to rub your clit. “Taste so sweet, baby. Does it feel good?”

Your head nods on its own, which only causes Ellie to laugh. 

“Feels s’good. Wanted this for so long.” you say, breathless.

“Yeah? Wanted me to fuck you? How many times did you think about me eating your cute little pussy like this while we were talking, hm? Did you go t’sleep every night with wet panties?”

You let out a moan at her words and nod your head again, but that’s not enough for her. She gives your thigh a quick smack.

“Yes! Yes, thought about it all the time. Oh please, Ellie, wanna cum so bad.”

She moves her head back towards your cunt, eating you out impossibly faster. Your legs start to shake, signaling your approaching orgasm. You’re practically grinding on Ellie’s face at this point, and she doesn’t mind one bit. While you use her tongue to get yourself off, she thinks this may be the peak of her life.

“I’m– gonna…” you try to finish your phrase, but it’s no use. Ellie moans into your pussy, and that sends you flying. 

You’re sure your moans were loud enough to scare any wildlife away from you, and it took you awhile to even regain consciousness. When you did, Ellie was now standing in front of you again, trying to keep you propped up. You slouch into her chest while she rubs a hand up and down your back under your shirt.

“Shh… you’re alright, you’re alright pretty girl.” she coos. 

She pulls your pants up, figuring she’ll have something to clean you up with back with all your stuff. Ellie basically carries you back to your sleeping bag, and makes sure you’re all clean before tucking you in.

“Ellie.” you whine out, feeling her presence move away from you.

“I’ve got first shift, remember? Go to bed, baby. I’ll wake you up.”

You mumble what she thinks is a complaint, before turning over and curling into yourself. It’s not long before she hears your breaths get deeper. Rubbing a hand over her face, she grabs her gun of choice before standing guard not far from your sleeping body.

Of course, Ellie doesn’t wake you up till the morning. 

“I was supposed to take second shift!” you argue.

“You didn’t really seem in the position to keep watch, princess. Swear your legs were gonna give out if you had to stand for longer than ten seconds.” Ellie laughs out.

You turn red and let out a huff.

“C’mon, get on the horse. We can argue on the way.”

[mehiwilldoitlater]

*throws a mooncake into your inbox* part 2 of the erlang x reader fic plsssss. Let our boy pine and long from the distance. Yuan Fen just KNOWS he caught feeling and is giving him the stink eyes. Maybe reader is unaware? up to you. LOVE YOUR WRITING AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAYYY

((mooncake?....mooncake...this gave me setting...thank you!))

The mid-autumn festival, or the festival of the moon. You heard it back in your world, but you never thought that one day you would actually participate. After all, you showed some curiosity when you heard from the other monkeys that in the nearest city the humans were preparing everything for the festival, and it was natural for you to ask to be able to attend it.

What you and your companions didn't know was that you weren't the only not-so-human beings that were ready to take a free night for the Moon festival.

"And WHAT are you two doing here?!"

Yuán Fèn almost snarled at the two deities that looked so normal under their own spell and some normal robes. In front of you, Erlang Shen, THAT Erlang, and the third Lotus prince, Nezha, were just in that moment entering the city walls.

Even if under a glamour spell that made him look like a human, Yuán Fèn still held that small trait that didn't allora his tail to disappear, and it was currently moving like a snake around his torso.

"We have all the rights in the world to attend this celebration!" Said the younger one, snarling like your friend and showing some clean in his eyes.

"Of every city, this one?!"

"Yes! Something to say about it?!"

And while the two were arguing, you couldn't look straight in the eyes of the older deity. You remembered quite well what happened to that mountain in that illusion, and... well, it made you feel quite awkward since that was the last time you saw him. You played with the hem of your sleeve, looking from time to time at the man, maybe searching for a good way to green him.

"You look stunning, y/n."

Instead, Erlang couldn't take his eyes off you. Your hangu was of a sweet shade of blues and lilac; flowers aforned your hair and the silks, making you the most beautiful thing that his eyes ever laid on. But you could have been beautiful in everything to him.

Chang'e needed to be careful, because now she had a rival that night.

"oh!" You scratched your head from embarrassment, a little more nervous than before. "The dress?... it's just an old thing that a friend had borrowed me."

"The third sister?" He said it with a genuine but funny tone.

"Yeah! She said that I need to start tò Look like a lady from now on!"

"She has good taste."

He kept his tongue by making remarks about her being a Yaoguai. After all, you befriended many of them. On your behalf, you laughed a little, feeling the nervousness finally calm down. Then, you remembered that Yuán Fèn and that Sassu child were nearing a handfight, and you had an idea.

"Since we're all together, why don't we go as a group? Tò know each other better!" The looks of disbelief on their faces were priceless. "I mean, we should start to act as allies now that the time has changed. And it would be fun!"

Yuán Fèn wanted to say something. I saw your hopeful face. You really, really wanted to attend the festival without troubles, and if going with Erlang and Nezha was an option for that, then it was worth it!

"All right, if they're not against it."  Which he hopes they were.

Well, they weren't; they both agreed on the spot, and so here you all were, walking in the street, full of people, ready to start the celebrations with two deities, really important ones too, and the One that had hereditated all of Sun Wukong powers—a normal group.

What really caught your attention was the decoration around yourself: everywhere someone had hanged a lantern, on their house, on the streets, between the house and palaces. Children were running around, holding small lanterns made of carved melons, where the adults had cut shapes in the zest, then putted a candle inside. 

Music could be Heard from the taverns, in the streets, around some temples, and everyone seems busy to have a good time. Your eyes couldn't concentrate on one spot, so immediately they were caught by something else, and you were so distracted that even Yuán Fèn needed to pull you a little. And of it wasn't him; a certain child was now fully invested in the area sourranding him.

"There there! I bet they sell flying lanterns! Bián huá, led me some money so we can take a few for later!"

"Why should I? Firstly, my name is Y/n, and secondly, you have to ask for them!"

"Hey! Have you forgotten who I am? I can turn you to-"

"To nothing. Because if a certain emperor find out you both sneak here, you're in big trouble!"

It was funny seeing Nezha act like a brat with someone that didn't care about his status, and of course it needed to be you.

While he kept complaining or tugging at your sleeves to get your attention on something, a small crowd got your attention. The music and the dances were blasting; a small group of musicians was playing an old song about Houyi and Chang'e, girls were launching handkerchiefs around, and boys were trying to catch them as fast as they could.

"Hey! Over there! What are they doing? What kind of dance is that?"

"That? It's a matchmaking dance." Said nonchalantly Yuán Fèn. "Of the boy can give back the handkerchief to the girl who has tossed, they may get married in the future."

"Oooh, it's cute!" You got closer to the crowd and, without even noticing, a few old ladies, maybe caught in a joyful spirit, had already caught you and dragged you inside.

"Little help here?!" You tried to call for your friend, but he was stopped by the young one.

"Just throw the thingy! Who's going to pick it up anyway?!" He laughed about it, while you just stuck your tongue out at him.

Once you did what they told you, you were free and without your handkerchief.

"Wow, those ladies are crazy about it!"

"They just like seeing young ladies march with young men, even strange things like you!"

"Careful, or I'll ruin your makeup, boy..." The both of you were now making faces at each other, to the dismay of Erlang and the joy of Yuán Fèn.

"so! What now?"

"We should go and pay and offer to the moon goddess; it's her festival after all."

"Allright! Let's move!"

While you, Yuán Fèn, and Nezha started moving, you hadn't noticed a Swift of Wind between the crowd. When you turned around, Erlang was adjusting his robe and hair.

"Aren't you coming?"

"Ah yes. Sorry, I was just...thinking."

He deliberately avoided the monkey glare; the only one who knew that had noticed maybe.

///

After you all had offered the incense, prayed for some good fortune, and paid respect to the goddess, you all decided that it was the right moment to stop and enjoy some dinner.

"Why don't we stop here? It seems nice!"

"I wouldn't mind some crabs."

"I'm starving!"

If it wasn't just for the small details that the place was crowded like nowhere, it would have taken hours to eat something! And you still wanted to participate in other events! Especially when the lanterna would have been left free in the sky to fly! You bought a few without Nezha knowing—a small surprise for him. Your mouth started tò watering while you saw all of those plates full of food and delicacy moving between table to table, and you were really beginning to think that losing at least the lion dance could not be such a terrible idea.

Until you noticed the monkey and the boy eyes fixed on the door that seemed to lead to the kitchen. There, your thoughts start tò running.

"You really shouldn't do that!"

"They won't notice!" Said Nezha, ready already to sneak in.

"We'll leave a few dollars, so it won't be a real robbery. What do you think?" Yuán Fèn winked at you. Just before taking the form of One of the waiters was alongside Nezha, making his way towards the kitchen. You blushed a little, still a little uncostimed by his new-found cockiness that accompanying tò Bajie was provoked by his mind now clear about his love towards you.

"Yuán fèn or Sun Wukong, they won't change. Troublemakers Deep in Their Heart." Erlang sighed, observing the scene.

"I like him this way... He may be a troublemaker, but he got a big heart."

The deity couldn't shake that pounty feeling in his heart when he saw with what gaze you were looking at the monkey. Deep, really Deep, he wished that you could have spared those dreamy eyes for himself. Such a selfish desire, but he was selfish inside...

"I never got the chance to thank you properly for what you've done for me back there." You started again to play with your sleeve, looking at your feet with some shyness that, in his eyes, made you more precious than ever.

"You don't have to. It was my duty to do so."

"I know, but...thank you...for everything."

And there it was again—that damn smile. That smiled so full of kindness and life that virtually you could possess, one smile that could break everyone's heart, especially Erlang's. He looked at you fondly and started to search for something in his robe.

"Y/n, please, I would."

The screaming of the owner echoed in the crowd. Laughs and screams started, and two troublemakers were running out from the restaurant, holding some food and wine.

"THEY'RE NOT THAT GENEROUS!"

///

You were able to get away from the owner fast enough, and, with your spoiler, you were able to find a nice spot. Next to the river, the boat, all of them decorated with more lanterns, seemed like a celestial vessel with reflections on the water. The light played on the surface, the colors shone like the aurora, and the moon, now high in the sky, set herself to be admired by mortals, Yaoguais, and celestials on that peaceful night.

Everything was just nice, with some food, wine, and good friends. 

After a while, you and Nezha standard up and get closer to the river bank to spot more interesting lanterns, leaving Yuán Fèn and Erlang alone and together.

The night was peaceful, but between the two of them, the tension seemed palpable, and the brother of them wanted to open their mouth to speak up. Erlang proved no animosity towards the monkey; he had made sure of that, but it wasn't like he liked him anyway. But he was sure that that night, the monkey really didn't enjoy his presence at all.

"If you have something to say, then talk. Don't ruin the night with this."

"Then give me the handkerchief."

Erlang stopped tò eating his crabs. His expression seemed calm, for now.

"I can smell it from here. Hand it over."

"Are you afraid of some silly mortal tradition?"

"I'm afraid that another stunt from you will cause some damage that I REALLY don't want to fix."

Erlang was sure that Heard a well-hidden snarl from the monkey. He enarched his eyebrow, looking at him with an inch of doubt.

"I'm Sorry?"

"I could smell it... your scent that day... She was soaked in it."

"I tended to her for weeks. Is normal?"

"She told me you kissed her."

He didn't retract this time, preferring to avoid the angry eyes of the companion, while his first became White.

"...she told you?"

"She wanted to come clear to me, and so I am to you. Do not do anything that you would regret."

He chuckled, ignoring the desire of the monkey to just grab him and destroy him.

"It's a treat?"

"It is, if you'll go over the line. I want to protect her from what can hurt her, especially deities that can't keep their eyes on the ground? She already told me she loved me; she doesn't need confusion now."

Erlang couldn't hold a smile. He always loved some good challenges, but you weren't one. Or, at least, you were already being won.

Yuán Fèn stood up, readjusting his scarf and his neck.

"I won't tell you to stop your feelings; I can't do that. I just ask you to be concederate for your own well-being."

He reached his hand towards him, mimicking the gesture of handing over that small piece of silk. That monkey... he could be so cruel, even against a small and harmless tradition.

He gave it to the monkey, observing that stupid and small thing disappear in the monkey pocket. Before leaving to reach you and Nezha, the monkey stopped in his tracks. His eyes shining with a dark light, his teeth showing...

"I won't hesitate to destroy you to keep you with me...got it?"

The first thing that Erlang thought was that the Destined One and Sun Wukong looked so alike and so possessive.

When he keft, Erlang eyes kept in following him..and then you.

He now understands how It felt Houyi, something the man desired, yet he never reached.

@sun-jglim @crimsonflameproxy @everlastingmoonlightsworld @biankanoir

@miraclecherryblossomsblog @certifiedsimpinggalore @sleepingdramaqueen @cromboloni @masksandfeathers

@cinnamonroll-anon @justrandomlypassing @cute-angi @luckyangelballoon @dressycobra7

@naarra @virtualexpertanchor @phoenixeclipse-lmkau @szynkaaa @kirax-the-lazy-girl

@sleepydang @weaverworks @kishimiest @marcu-bug @thepoweroffiction

@riolu4 @angryvampire @s0rr3l

[moonstruckme]

hey queen! i am humbly requesting some tasm!peter x plus sized!reader 🛐

maybe he was coming home from patrolling/being out as spidey and saw something in a window that reminded him of reader? like a knickknack or flowers or something like that? and he comes home and gives it to her and she’s all flustered and smitten 🤭

feel free to add your own spin to it or anything! i’m just in need of fluff and hugs from my boy 🫶🏻

Thanks for requesting lovely!

tasm!Peter Parker x plus size!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Peter knows he’s got other things he should be doing. He’s technically not done with the amount of time he likes to spend patrolling every day (plus there’s a serial burglar out there he should really be trying to catch), and if he’s not doing that he should be getting home to work on the research paper he’s got due tomorrow, and if he’s doing neither of those things Aunt May’s been begging him all week to dust the shelves she can’t reach. But when you open your door and he sees the look on your face, Peter knows he made the right decision neglecting all that shit. 

“Hi!” Your voice lilts through the syllable, happiness coating it like honey. 

“Hey,” Peter says back, immediately losing whatever advantage he had in the conversation. You’re surprised to see him, sure, but he’s surprised to see you like this. You’re still in your pajamas, evidently enjoying a day in, a large t-shirt and draw-string shorts that make you look all lazy and adorable and leave the delicate flesh of your thighs on display. Peter wants to bite them, but that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly. 

“Hey,” he says again, blinking to clear the haze from his brain. “I, uh, you said you like irises, right?” 

“Yeah…” There’s a hesitant sort of question in your voice. You eye the small bunch of flowers in his hand. “Are those for me?” 

Peter grins. “Who else, sweetheart?” He tacks on the endearment mostly to see you fluster. It’s a success; your arms come up to hug your torso as your cheeks dimple, smile half-suppressed. 

He passes you the flowers before he can fluster too. The plastic wrap crinkles under your careful touch, and you glance between him and them like you can’t decide which to admire first. 

“Thank you so much,” you say. “Did we…have something today?” 

“No,” he laughs, hooking his thumb in the strap of his backpack. “No, you’re good. I was just in the neighborhood, and they made me think of you.” 

Your eyes go all pretty-pleased at the comment, but you tilt your head curiously. “What do you have to do around here?” 

Ah, the question he’d hoped you’d be too happy to ask. The truth is, Peter’s almost never in this neighborhood if not for you. Spiderman gets around, but there’s not usually as much going on here as in the rest of the city. He’d spotted the flowers at a stand he’d webbed a catcaller to on the lower east side, and then came over to your end of town to bring them to you. It was only, like, a ten minute swing. Much more efficient than the subway. 

“Thrifting,” he says slowly. “I was, uh, just looking to update my closet a bit, and I know you’ve got a lot of good thrift stores around here.” 

“Nice.” You smile, taking a little sniff of your irises. Their bright color makes your already exquisite face look even lovelier, and it’s such a perfect image Peter wishes he had his camera on him. “Can I see your finds?” 

“No,” he replies. Too quickly, so he tries to look really put out to compensate for it. “No, I didn’t find anything. I’m…really picky about my clothes.” 

“Oh.” Your eyes drop to his plain gray t-shirt and jeans, but thankfully you’re too nice to say anything. 

“Right,” Peter blazes ahead, tugging on the straps of his backpack, “so I just wanted to bring you those, and I’ve actually got shelves to dust, so I’d better go…” 

“Okay, thanks for the flowers,” you say. “They’re really pretty.” 

“Yeah, I figured it must be hard being so pretty all by yourself,” he says, spinning around to walk backwards so he can see your reaction, “so I figured I’d get you a companion.” 

You press your lips together, flushing and tilting your head downwards as if to hide it. “Thanks,” you almost whisper. Peter grins hugely. 

You look up just as he’s turning back around, your focus narrowing on something behind him. 

“Hold on a second.” Peter halts opediently, and you come outside, that t-shirt fluttering prettily around your hips. “Something’s falling out of your bag…” 

He thinks to be nervous just before you pull the red and blue mask from the unzipped pocket of his backpack. 

“What’s this?” 

“That…” Peter’s nodding but he doesn’t know why. It’s some sort of automatic response, like he turns into a bobblehead under pressure. His mouth is void of saliva. “That’s a costume.” 

Your eyebrows twitch together as one side of your mouth kicks up, like you’re not sure what to make of him. “You dress up as Spider-Man?” 

The nodding turns to shaking weirdly seamlessly. “No! No, of course not, I’m an adult. It’s—it’s not for me.” You look at him expectantly. “I’m making it…for my nephew.” 

“Oh.” You blink. “I didn’t know you had a nephew.” 

“Really?” Peter hears his voice pitching higher, but he’s powerless to stop it. “I didn’t mention him? We’re pretty close—well, not that close. He lives…away. In Connecticut. But he wants a Spider-Man costume, and obviously he wants me to make it, because…I’m the guy for that stuff.” 

You nod respectfully. “You are really good at sewing,” you say, and the look you’re giving him is so sweet it nearly takes his knees out from under him. “It’s nice of you to do that for him. You’re really thoughtful, Peter.” 

You say it all soft and considerate, like it’s a secret you’re letting him in on, and Peter’s honestly worried for his heart health. He’s not sure it can take the strain of all this. 

“Yeah, well, only for people I care about,” he says just as quietly. 

You drop your gaze, smiling to yourself, and start tucking the mask back inside his backpack. “Your nephew must be a cool kid. I’d love to meet him sometime.” 

“Yeah, maybe if he comes to town sometime.” Which will be, you know, never. But hopefully by the time it gets suspicious you’ll know enough that he can come clean with you about that. 

He hears the zipper close and turns before you can move away. Peter wants desperately to wrap his arms around you, feel the softness of your body pressed up against his, but he settles for taking your hand. At the look on your face when he smiles and gives it a squeeze, you would’ve died at the alternative. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

Your lips part. “No problem,” you breathe. 

He gives your hand one more press for good measure, letting his fingers drag across yours as he steps away. “See you Friday, yeah? For dinner?” 

“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “I’ll see you then.” 

Peter shoots you one last grin over his shoulder, headed down the sidewalk. “Looking forward to it.” 

[greyspirehollow]

Vesuvia weekly ; Watching the courtiers sleep!

Pairing : The courtiers x reader

Fandom : The Arcana visual novel

Warnings : none. Pure fluff.

You were simply walking down the corridors of the third floor of the palace, simply curious about what was there, since you had never visited before. However, you stumble upon their doors slightly ajar...

Valdemar :

You either see them lying on their back with their hands on their chest or on their side. The cover hides basically all of them except for their head. They lay down almost perfectly flat. They do not make a single noise ; if you didn't see their chest softly rising and falling you'd think they were dead.

They look shockingly peaceful and comfortable. You envy them.

They're actually a heavy sleeper (they have to sleep for three days like come on) but they would know if you were to even take a single step in their room and you'd die on spot.

But when they're awake they are like... Awake.

Vulgora :

You hear them before you even see them. They snore. Loudly.

S̷N̸O̴R̵E̶

They're sprawled out onto their bead like a star, either on their back or stomach. The covers are covering barely half of their body.

Ś̵̺Ň̶̲O̸͉͗Ṛ̶̛E̷̤̒

They're a heavy sleeper and move around a lot while asleep.

S̵̰̿Ñ̶͇̜͠Ö̷̞̲͘͝R̸̭͍̆E̴̖͋

They wake up before the sun ; because the sun is lazy. They are better than the sun. They're faster, stronger, brighter, and they have more gas.

S̸̞̹͠N̵̫̖̑͊Ö̷̳̳͊R̶̛̟͕E̷͔̜̓̈

Volta :

She's all curled up into a ball under her covers, like a little bird in its nest. Her breath whistles slightly in the night and she covers her ears with her blanket.

The little pair of wings on her head flutter here and there, and she does move around a lot, but tries her best to hide her face and ears for some reason.

Very light sleeper ; the sound of your breathing could wake her up

Tries to keep herself as warm as she can.

Vlastomil :

He, unsurprisingly, is snuggled up in his covers like a burrito. Reject humanity, return to worm. He wiggles around in his sleep sometimes, in a circular pattern, clockwise.

And when he's completed the circle, he wakes up.

Pretty average sleeper, goes through the normal phases of sleep and actually has pretty restful nights... If you forget about the moisture.

He sweats a lot, despite loving to be wrapped in his blanket like that.

Valerius :

Probably the most normal of them all. You find him sleeping on his back, one arm behind his head and his other hand resting on his chest, the covers up to his torso.

He keeps his hair in a bun for the night

Does have trouble falling asleep sometimes

Bonus! - Cuddling with the courtiers!

Valdemar :

1. Big spoon (to your great surprise)

2. Onto you weighed blanket style

Shockingly gentle yet firm grip ; they love the warmth and softness of you but will never admit it.

Vulgora :

1. Crushes you. Prepare to try not to suffocate. Sprawled out onto you as if they were sleeping normally.

2. The same but while holding you.

Firm grip, but will loosen it when they hear you can barely breathe. Loves your scent.

Volta :

1. Hold her close to you, envelop her in your arms and keep her safe. Loves your warmth too, and insists you're entirely covered in the blanket as well.

2. Small spoon, and clings to your hands.

Doesn't hold on to you, prefers being held by you to feel safe.

Vlastomil :

1. Coils around you worm style.

2. But likes to be held too.

Will profusely apologize about sweating too much.

Downsides : he takes the covers all to himself.

Valerius :

1. Small spoon. I rest my case.

Will act as if he is simply ok with it and doesn't enjoy it as much as he does.

You better not talk about this to anyone, he'll... Do nothing, he loves you too much.

[onlyhereforthestories]

Some Days Are Just Harder Than Others (Mapi Leon x Reader)

This contains some details of mental health issues and insecurities so if that might trigger you or cause you harm please don't read this fic. That being said I really did enjoy writing this and Mapi!

You woke up alone this morning which was unusual these days. Although you and Mapi hadn’t officially moved in together you spent most nights at her place, you had also almost taken over half her wardrobe by this point and the new sofas decorating the living space was a joint choice of the both of you together. But last night after training you had been feeling a little down and decided that you wanted to be alone so made up an excuse to Mapi about an early appointment and not wanting to wake her up that early.

You didn’t like the fact that you felt like you lied to the older woman but you knew that of you told her you weren’t feeling your best mentally she wouldn’t feel right leaving you on your own. She knows you incredibly well at this point and that meant that she knows that when you get into your head you aren’t very nice to yourself. And she isn’t wrong because that’s what is happening now.

Your first thought when you woke up was Mapi, it always is but this time the nice thought of your lover was tainted by the insecurities that your mind brought up. Your aren’t worthy of her, she’s too good for you and there’s someone better for her out there were swirling round your head before you could even make it out of bed.

You tried to ignore it as you hopped into the shower but it wasn’t going so well and when you got out you checked your phone to see a message from the one person you wanted to talk to but was the central point of your current insecurities. Good morning, I’ve gone to get coffee with Ingrid and Frida this morning so I will see you at training. This was a very normal text from Mapi but you couldn’t help but overthink it. Your normal nickname was missing and she hadn’t said anything about your not actually real meeting.

You really hated the way your mind worked on days like this, it was your worst enemy because it made you think such stupid and wrong things that weren’t fair on others. Mapi is wonderful she is kind and sweet and cares so much. So your current thought process about maybe she doesn’t love you wasn’t fair or right, it was winding you up and making your head worst because you were starting to hate yourself even more.

After sitting in your towel for way too long, you got up to get your training gear on. You pulled on your sports bra and made sure to keep your back to the mirror, that wasn’t something else you needed on your mind today. Next were your knickers and shorts before your top and that’s when you turned to face the full length mirror on your wall. It turned out it didn’t matter that you didn’t look before you pulled the top over your torso because as soon as you looked at yourself you felt uncomfortable. You hated the way you looked, your stomach wasn’t as flat as it could have been, your arms were small and weak and your legs were skinny. It didn’t matter that you were a professional athlete or that you were at peak physical fitness no, to you, your body was ugly and not right.

Deciding that you needed a little bit of extra padding today you pulled out an older larger ¼ zip and pulled that over your head, as well as putting joggers on instead of the shorts you first wore, so you could not think about your horrible legs. Deciding that today wasn’t the day for breakfast you grabbed a banana on your way out the door.

You arrived at training early, so early that you were the only one in the changing room. This was exactly what you wanted, this meant you could get your cleats on and be out of the changing room without the girls questioning your choice of clothing on this warm spring day. Avoiding the bathroom mirrors after going for your pretraining wee, you passed back through the training rooms and were shocked to see Alexia there getting ready.

Your captain was one of your closest friends and you knew that other than Mapi, she was the only person that would see through your current shield something you really weren’t ready to face yet. You said a quick hi and then made your way outside confusing the woman you left behind. Deciding that she knew you well enough and that if you didn’t stay and chat with her like you normally would that you needed some space, she mentally stored it to mention to your girlfriend when she arrived.

You had been kicking a ball around for the 30 minutes before training started, you could feel the slight sweat already starting to drip down your back. You had thought about taking your jumper off multiple times but the demons in your head just pop back up and stop you from carrying the task out. You drank a load of water as the rest of the team joined you for the warm up, as you were drinking you felt the pressure of a hand on your back which caused you to jump a little and move away.

You turned to see Mapi’s slightly hurt expression which made you feel even worse about yourself, you didn’t want to hurt her. Trying to make it up you stepped into her space and pressed a kiss you her cheek in greeting. “Hola hermosa, how was coffee?” You interlocked your fingers with hers and looked up at her waiting to hear about her morning.

“It was good bebe, but why have you got layers on. It’s really warm out you are going to give yourself heat stroke.” As she spoke she used her free hand to tug at the bottom of your jumper. You didn’t know what to say and open and closed your mouth a few times, luckily for you the trainers called you all for warm ups so you ran off after a squeeze to the dyed blondes hand.

Training was exhausting, you could feel the heat coursing through your body and you wanted nothing more than to take all your clothes off and jump in a cold shower. The only problem with that was taking your clothes off right now still wasn’t something you really wanted to do. You stayed out on the pitch as the rest of the girls headed for the changing rooms, you really didn’t know how you were going to explain not showering and changing out of your many layers.

You decided that free kick practice would give you enough time to allow for them all to get done in the shower and head out. What you didn’t think about in your mental planning of avoiding the team was your very loving girlfriend who noticed your missing presence immediately. She made eye contact with Alexia as the captain entered the room last giving her a questioning look about your missing whereabouts, and got a shake of her head in the direction of the field indicating your location.

Mapi was quick to make her way back to find you, she was starting to understand what was going on here. The layers, the stand offish behaviour, the avoidance of the changing room pre and post training, it all lead to the same thing. You were not feeling good about yourself and she’s kicking herself a little that she hasn’t been there to help even though she knows you would hate it if you stopped her everyday life.

Taking a moment to watch you score free kick after free kick and think about how she was going to approach you about this today. You had different ways of thinking in times like these and it was sometimes hard for her to know what to do. She took note of your incessant tugging at your sleeves and your neckline of your ¼ zip, you were uncomfortable and she needed to get you away from here.

With a plan in mind she headed back into the changing room quickly to grab both of your stuff and let Alexia know that she was going to get you out of there without coming in. Grabbing your bag, her own and the car keys she said goodbye to everyone and went to sweep you away.

She approached slowly and cautiously, she didn’t want to scare you being as you were now just sat on a ball at the halfway line. She placed a hand on your shoulder which broke you out of your current thought process and caused you to look up at her. She smiled down at you which you quickly returned before she held out her hand for you to take. Without hesitation you took it but when she pulled you up and started a route to the side exit of the training facilities you gave her a questioning look.

“Trust me cariño, let’s go home.” You just nodded and followed, you would always follow her.

By the time you got home you were incredibly uncomfortable, the heat in the car from the sun outside and your raised body temperature causing you to overheat even more. Mapi had been blasting the air conditioning but it wasn’t really helping you currently, but you did take notice and squeeze her leg in a silent thank you.

After pulling up Mapi was out quick enough to open your door for you after grabbing your bags from the back of the car. She took your hand once again providing you with that small comfort you really needed right now even though you hadn’t told her, she just knew. She dragged you through the door and straight to your room, putting your stuff down before pulling you through to the bathroom.

“I think I know what has happened today and so I know right now you aren’t feeling great about yourself. What I want to make sure you know is that you are amazing, im so proud of you for getting through the day in the way you needed for yourself. But I don’t want you to think poorly of yourself if we can stop that, you are so incredibly pretty, everything about you is right and good because it’s you. I love every part of you.” She had her hand under your chin to make sure you were looking at her and listening. You could see the sincerity in her gaze and it made the voices in your head quieten a little bit, enough to try and take in what she was telling you.

“You need to get out of these layers, you are overheating and I am a little worried about your physical health too right now. It’s up to you if you want me to stay or go but I would like you to have a cool shower.” You took a moment to think about what you wanted right now, although the voices had quietened they were still there and you could hear them telling you that if you let Mapi stay she would be disgusted.

The both of you stood there for a little bit as you decided what you wanted, Mapi kept your hands in her and rubbed soothing circles on the tops of them with her thumb, giving you the thinking time. As she watched you process, she decided to try slowly encouraging you, she did this by letting go of one of your hands and sliding your 1/4  zip down and see your reaction.

When you didn’t pull away she slid her hand down to your hip and settled it just under the jumper, she waited there for a moment while your eyes closed and you fought the bad thoughts that made themselves louder. When you opened your eyes again and made eye contact with her she could see the determination in your eyes so she slowly grasped the bottom of the pull over and brought it up. She took her time and studied your face to make sure that she could stop at the first sign of panic or discomfort, but that never came.

She placed a small delicate kiss on the end of your nose just before your head disappeared into the fabric. Once the jumper was off she was quick to discard it and grab your hands again to keep you grounded, something that made your heart swell and you provide another squeeze of her fingers.

Next she tugged the drawstrings of your joggers to loosen the waist and once again slid her hands between the fabric of your clothes and this time your skin. She paused when she heard your sharp intake of breath in the quiet of the room, taking a moment to just rub her thumb over your hip where it was resting. “Take your time pretty lady, I’m right here. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

You took a few steadying breaths as you held onto her arms and waited for the way of negative emotions to pass slightly, when they did you nodded at the woman holding you to continue. You closed your eyes again as Mapi pulled down the item of clothing and knelt in front of you to help your socked covered feet out before taking those off too. When she righted herself to your height she cupped your cheek and brushed her thumb under your eyes until you opened them once more.

“You ready cariño?” You knew this was the hardest step for you and she did too. Your top coming off exposed your torso, a torso that right now you hated with everything in you.

“Please don’t let me go or leave.” Your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper but in the quiet of the house you shared Mapi heard every heart breaking syllable. She made sure to not let her sadness over what you just said show just in case it could be read the wrong way by your mind and instead pulled you into her body. You head tucked itself straight into your favourite spot her neck and your arms hung round her waist as she held you together.

“I am never leaving, I promise you those thoughts right now are just that. I’m right here.” She held you close and continued to whisper those sweet words into your ear until you squeezed her hips and pulled back slightly.

“I’m ready.” The determination in your voice pleased not only Mapi but yourself, it made you feel stronger and more capable of getting through this. You knew that without Mapi you wouldn’t have gotten to this point so quickly but you were pretty sure you would have eventually. Life however is so much better when she’s in it and is there to make these bad days easier to handle.

Mapi made quick work of your top and held your hands when she noticed them going to cross over your front. She placed kiss after kiss along your arms, over your shoulder, down your collarbone and over the other side ending on the opposite hand. There was nothing intimate to these kisses, they were just there to show you how loved your body was by her. Without saying a word, she pressed a kiss to your head and then your chest right over your heart, her way of telling you she loved your mind, body and soul. When she looked back at your eyes she was happy to find some of the troubles and fears she saw swirling in them earlier had gone. Staring back at her was her girl, not that you ever weren’t but now the look you gave her was more content.

“Will you shower with me?” Mapi was a little taken back by this, you normally needed a bit of thinking space after an episode like this but she wasn’t going to turn down a shared shower with you any day.

“Of course, you know I can’t resist a joint shower session.” The wink she sent you as she stripped off her training gear wasn’t suggestive, now wasn’t the time for that and you both knew it. It was a wink that brought the desired reaction from you, a small cute giggle that expressed that you were in fact feeling better and Mapi couldn’t be happier about that.

“Thank you. You always know how to make me feel better.” As you said this you pulled the love of your life closer to you and Mapi melted into your touch. The first bit of contact you’d initiated since being home, and so she soaked up the softness of your skin against hers. You pulled back just enough to press a kiss to her lips that you hoped conveyed how grateful you were.

The two of you stood in your bathroom both in your sports bras and knickers, lips locked in a passionate exchange that could only be described as two people showing one another just how much they loved each other no matter what they faced in the day.