#also hey sorry there i might be a little slow with drawings for a few days. uhhh. Mario has completely taken over my attention.

[marclef]

I wish for you to shrink Fakey so I can gently and lovingly squish him like stress ball 😇

*cartoon squeaky toy sound effect*

[lady-djarin]

across the galaxy

chapter x - more than death

din djarin x f!reader

warnings: anxiety, cuddles, tension, smut, oral (m receiving), fingering, din being a smooth talking mf, cute fluffy ending

word count: 3,528

a/n: final chapter! thank you all so much for all the love and support from this series. i will keep writing other things as there is no guarantee i will come back to this story. thank you all! <3

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Din now had you wrapped in his arms on the floor of his ship and he felt more alive than ever. The circumstances of how you got there was a little complicated but he was loving it non the less. He wanted so badly for every night to end like this but didnt know how to say it or what you might want. You both eventually fell asleep in each other arms with no lights but the soft glow of the buttons on the walls, his hands drawing shapes up and down your skin.

—

Searing pain sprung across your back as the sound of electricity crackled through the air. You screamed as loud as your burning lungs would allow. “All you have to do is tell me where the base is, and this agony can stop.”

You looked into the eyes of a young man, completely void of feeling. You figured he was someone important due to the badges on his jacket and very ugly hat. Your breathing was shallow and painful as you held his stare. “Fuck...you.” He looked up from you and nodded at the man holding the charged whip. You closed your eyes and braced for the impact that cracked against your spine. The noise that came out of your throat was something that could shake the earth.

“You will NEVER find them.” You sneered up at the man in front of you. Before the tears cleared from your eyes, another stinging blow hit your skin. 

—

You woke up screaming, drenched in sweat, Din clutching you against his chest. Your brain barely managed to register that you were awake. It’s like you could still feel the pain spreading across your now healed scars.

“Mesh’la, hey, hey you're ok.” He clutched you as close as humanly possible on the floor of your tiny home together. You stopped screaming but your breath was still as fast as before. Din knew nightmares, he knew them well. He had his fair share due to his troubled past. He knew he just needed to help you ride it out and calm you down while being there to support you. He had sometimes heard you wake up from nightmares down in the hull, but never mentioned it, knowing that it wasn't his place, even though he wanted nothing more than to comfort you through it. 

As soon as you became aware of your surroundings you squeezed your eyes shut and turned away from Din while holding your own chest. The ship was dark, so there was no danger of seeing his face but you didn't want to risk anything. You were also realizing that he just saw the worst of you. You felt like a live wire, exposed and raw for him to see. So much had happened in the last few weeks with him and your brain wasn't done processing. Without saying a word you got up and felt your way to the fresher room. 

You sat on the cold metal toilet cover and the feeling stung the back of your thighs, but you welcomed it. Pressing the heel of your palm into your eyes, you couldn't help but feel embarrassment creep up the back of your neck. You sat there trying to remember you were not dreaming anymore and also that you had just woken up in Din’s arms.

Your anxious thoughts were cut short by a small knock on the door. “Are you ok ad’ika?”

“Yea… sort of, just give me a minute.” You decided to take a cold shower to try and slow your heart rate and wash the layer of sweat away. You wrapped a towel around yourself and pressed the button to open the door to find the bounty hunter standing a few feet in front of you holding your bag of clothes. He was in his regular clothes that went under the beskar and just his helmet. The familiar visor made your heart drop, a reminder that you would never see his face. He handed you the small duffle bag.

“Sorry, I just wanted to put this in front of the door for you.” His body language told you that he was feeling awkward and out of place, in his own ship. 

You clutched the towel to your chest, now feeling self aware that you were in nothing but a towel, even though he had seen much more before. “Thanks Mando.” You took the bag from him but before you pulled away he grabbed that wrist and pulled your attention up to where his eyes would be. 

“You can still call me Din, sweetheart. Just not in public.”

“Oh… ok, of course, thank you, Din.” With the use of his real name, he leaned his body closer to yours. The hand on your wrist moved up to your cheek and you practically moaned at the feeling of his warm hand on your skin. 

“How are you feeling ad’ika?” You were going to answer but decided to ask the question that had been bugging you for a while.

“Din, what does that mean?” His helmet tilted to the right, as if he was studying your face.

“‘Ad’ika’? Um… it’s Mando’a. It means ‘little one.’”

A sheepish smile cracked at your lips knowing that he was calling you that long before your night together. “Look, Din, thank you for that night, and I'm sorry I had to ask that of you.” You pushed past him to go into the living quarters of the ship. While digging through the bag of clothes you felt Din walk up behind you, not touching you but just closing the distance. He ghosted his hand over the smooth exposed skin on your arm and pressed his chest against your back. 

Pressing the helmet to the side of your face, he whispered in your ear, “Don’t be sorry, mesh’la, I don't regret a thing, I hope you don't either.”

You turned your face to press against the cool beskar and sighed as his words sunk in. “No, I don't regret it, I ju-just…” You were now fully resting your head against him, the cold metal killing the flame lingering on your skin. “I don't know Din, I just feel bad, that is not how I pictured it happening, if it was going to happen at all…” you trailed off as you turned away to grab your clothes. 

“Wait, pictured it?” Din was stone still, not moving a muscle waiting for your response. 

You realized what you said, you two had not spoken about it since that night. 

“Well, yea…didn't you?” You felt the blush creep up your exposed neck. You honestly thought it was obvious you had dreamed of that night before, maybe he didn't think it was that obvious…

You both turned fully towards each other now, you looking into that black visor, searching for his eyes. The eyes that were locked on to yours and never wanted to look away. 

“Sweet girl, I thought about you every waking moment, since the day I met you in that stupid cantina.” His rough hand came up to your cheek and the warmth of it made your heart flutter. You looked up at him through your lashes, wishing you could see his eyes. You both felt that need, wanting to be with each other without barriers. You would always respect Din’s creed, would never ask him to remove his helmet or do anything he wasn't comfortable with, but you desperately missed the feeling of his lips on your skin, anywhere on your skin. 

“We still have a few more hours to go until we get to the next quarry location.” You smiled at the implication, knowing where his mind was headed. “Go lay down and I'll check on the kid.”

So you did just that, lying in the mostly dark hull, now naked under the blankets with your heart pounding in your chest. You were nervous, sure, but you were almost giddy at the thought of the bounty hunter touching you again. The thought alone was making you hot with arousal and the muscles between your legs flutter. You heard the large man moving through the hull stowing everything away and making sure the baby was asleep. His deep voice crackled through the helmet as he spoke to Grogu. 

“Don’t worry little one, we'll be there soon.” Somehow seeing Din be in such a paternal roll made you want him even more. You had always thought about kids but you wanted the right person to come along. 

Could Din be that person?

You were laying there in thought when that deep voice broke you out of your haze.

“Well this looks familiar…” you jumped slightly, confused by his meaning you cocked your head at him. When he did the same, it struck you. That night in the hull, when he made you touch yourself in front of him. You smirked in response, that night now a fond memory. Without another word you slipped your hand under the blanket like before, moving your hands over your soft skin, hidden from Din’s eyes. He shifted from one foot to the other, watching your every move as your movement began to become more desperate. Your fingers made their way to your slick folds as you arched your back and let out a small moan. A grunt from the tall man pulled your attention back to him. You locked your gaze on him as you kept moving your fingers in circles around your clit, spreading your slick on yourself. The sounds coming from you now were causing Din’s pants to tighten and he had to stop himself from undoing his pants then and there. That was becoming increasingly hard when you moved your other hand up to your chest to knead at your breasts, the supple flesh on display now above the blankets. His breath caught in his throat and it took everything in him not to fall to his knees for you. He simply watched as you continued to touch yourself and praise yourself with moans and heavy breaths. He was as stoic as always, he looked like an unfeeling droid on the outside but on the inside, you were melting his heart. He knew right then, seeing you in all your glowing glory, he could never love another.

“Mhmm, Din…” 

That got him moving. He took a few small steps towards you, stuck in the trance you put him in. As he moved closer to you, you looked at him through hooded lids, now fully lost to the lust. He was standing almost right on top of you, looking down at you behind that dark helmet. His hard length was right there, making your mouth water with anticipation. You were tired of waiting for him to make his move so you took matters into your own hands. You got yourself down on your knees, hands flying to the button on his pants, your breath now heavy in your chest. You both worked at his zipper until he was free, he grabbed your face as you grabbed his hips. 

“Sweet girl, you look so beautiful like this,” his thumb slid across your cheek until it came to your plush lips. You opened on instinct for him, licking the tip of his finger, he pushed past your lips and moaned at the feeling of your warm mouth. You slid your tongue across his digit then hallowed your cheeks to suck along the length of it. It felt so good to finally submit to this man who had been plaguing your thoughts ever since that one night. He was all you could think about and finally, there you were on your knees for him, doing as he pleased. You felt your way up his thighs until your hands finally reached the base of his cock. A low grunt left his chest when you started to lightly stroke your hand over him, never giving what he truly  wanted. You moved your mouth over to his weeping tip, opening your mouth to take him in only to pull away at the last second and smile up at him like you did nothing wrong. 

“You're such a brat, you know that?”

All you could do was smile as he dug his hand into your hair and yanked your mouth onto his dick. The sudden intrusion made you gag slightly before slowly starting to work your lips over him. As you pushed your head forward, his tip hit the back of your throat and Din almost whimpered.

Whimpered.

You couldn't believe it and you tried to tilt your back back as much as possible. You looked up to find the underside of his neck exposed due to his head being thrown back. The sight before you was glorious, the big bad Mandalorian was at your mercy as much as you were at his. Your pussy flooded at the sight, his muscles contracted as you snaked your tongue around him. You could feel every vein and twitch in the warm cavern of your mouth and the sudden taste of precum made you moan. The vibration was enough to made Din’s breathing stop, 

“Oh fuck, baby–” His voice sounded like honey, thick and sweet. “You– you have to stop.” You pulled away and could see the pained pleasure in his body language. “I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” 

You took that as a que to tease him even further by lightly flicking your tongue against his reddining tip. He looked down at you and chuckled. That's when you knew you were in trouble. Din’s once gentle touch turned volatile against your neck, pulling you up to his height. The fact that you were completely naked against all his clothing was very apparent now, it even made your nipples harden. He backed you up until your ass connected with a small shelf on the wall of the hull. He held you there for a moment until he spun you around, you had to slam your hands on the surface so you didn't fall into it face first. This is when you started to realize that teasing him probably was a mistake on your part, the threat of punishment did excite you though. There was nothing but silence from the man behind you until the loud crack of his hand connecting with your ass broke it. A gasp escaped your lungs as your body jolted forward from the force before you arched back at him. 

“You like that? Hmm?” You were almost too embarrassed to answer. Another hit landed on your sore cheek. “Use your words…”

“Ye-yes,” you moaned.

His fingers slid towards your dripping center, swiping through them you could hear the mess you were making. Your mind spun at the perfect feeling of his fingers working you open, preparing you for himself. He knew just how to touch you so that he never gave you what you needed, his light touches made your center drip. His long digits worked their way into your hole and you could feel yourself practically sucking him in. your body had an innate desire to have him.

Your legs shook as he worked his fingers into the spongy spot inside you. The arousal was flooding your veins, taking you over like nothing ever before. Every touch you felt from him made you want more, nothing was ever enough. 

“Turn the lights off.”

He was surprised at your tone. It was hungry and harsh, unlike anything he had seen from you. He quickly did as you asked as you sat on the edge of the cot. When the ship was as dark as hyperspace, he came back to you, running his hands over your skin and you desperately needed to feel every inch of him on you. Your hands slid up his form until you reached his neck.

“Can I?”

A soft nod was all you needed to lift the heavy metal off his head, along with his clothes. Although you couldn't see his features, you felt like you could map out his face with touch and lips alone. You crashed into each other like two stars colliding, it was explosive and life altering. The feeling of his body on yours spurred you on further, you grabbed his waist and pulled him down onto you. He licked his way down your body until he reached your center again. His nimble fingers circled your throbbing clit, making your skin light on fire. Your back arched off the cot and he curled his fingers into you further. The coil was tightening in your abdomen, making your muscles melt with pleasure. 

The large man crawled up the cot, his dark silhouette looming over you, he finally lowered himself to let his lips meet yours. You widen your legs for your hips to meet and he rocked himself against you, the movement causing a moan to slip from both of you. The frantic feeling fleeted once he lined himself up against you, his head moving up to look at you. His true voice was like a bucket of cold water. 

“Are you sure?”

You paused. People rarely made sure you were ok. It made you love him even more.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” 

He sank into you inch by inch and you swear you felt his heart skip a beat. It felt like the whole galaxy stopped moving. He made you feel like you were all that matters to him, and maybe you were but you thought he would never say it, being a man of few words. But you did feel it, you felt like you were the only thing that mattered. He rocked against you and inside you and the feeling made your heart swell, you couldn't hold back the words from falling from your mouth. 

“I love you…” 

You both paused.

Utter shock and a little fear ran your blood cold. You prayed to the Maker that he would say something, anything, but he was silent for a long moment.

Finally…

He kissed you hard, hard enough you thought your lips would bruise. It told you everything you needed to know, he loved you and he always did. He told you anyway.

“I love you more than all the stars in the galaxy,” as he spoke he peppered your neck with kisses, all while still moving inside you. “more than death,” kiss, “more than life,” kiss, “more than…” then he paused all movement. 

Confused, you touched his cheek, dragging his attention to you.

“What's wrong?”

Without answering, he shifted up slightly and you couldn't tell what he was doing until suddenly you heard a small click, and your vision was flooded with warm faint light. You blinked against the sudden surprise then shut your eyes when you remembered. 

“Din! What are you doing?” You covered your eyes with your hand.

“Mesh’la, please, look at me. I want you to see me.” You ever so slowly moved your hand away from your eyes. You were still visibly cautious about opening your eyes and Din could tell. He touched your cheek to pull you back to him. “It’s ok, please, open your eyes.”

So you did. The first thing you saw were warm chocolate brown eyes locked onto yours. They took your breath away, they represented everything you knew this man to be; kind, strong and warm. They were framed by dark lashes and eyebrows, all with warm tan skin and plush lips. You tried to take it all in at once but you were too consumed with him to think. He started to move again and your mind went blank, the feeling of him consuming you.

—

THREE YEARS LATER

You watched Din show Grogu how to light a fire, the small child giggling at his father. You sat on a log nearby, mixing your rations together for dinner. The three of you had been living like normal ever since you and the hunter confessed your feelings to each other. You decided to have a small ceremony on a remote planet about two years ago, binding you two as one. You were a family now, making your way across the galaxy together and growing fast.

Din came over to you while the kid played with frogs, settling next to you. When you three were alone, it became more common for him to have his helmet off. Every time you saw him, his rugged handsomeness shocked you, even now, three years later and he still surprised you.

“How are you feeling love?” he rubbed your swollen belly. Children were always an idea for you but never thought you'd find anyone you trust to have that life with. Now you can, this brave strong man that has always had your back and made you feel like you were precious, he is the father of your child. 

“I'm alright, just hungry as always.”

The three of you ate together under the expanse of stars on the small planet, three large moons above you. Not everything in your life is easy but with him by your side, you finally found peace. 

SERIES MASTER LIST

[starrypawz]

prompt 67 of the nsfw prompts you just reblogged :>

100 nsfw prompts "“So good for me, look at how much you came.” AO3 (content notes can be found there)

So this is an old prompt, it's also not what I've been currently working on because... writer's block but hey maybe early relationship Gerry/Nemo will help

So good, so good, so good, so good, sogood, sogoo-

Oh…

Oh no

He shudders, lightheaded with his  pulse thrumming in his ears and it’s any wonder the sheets under him haven’t set alight from the warmth running through him. Especially as somehow there’s enough blood to spare to bring another rush of heat to his face as his brain catches up to the rest of him about what just happened as he lies there.

“Gerry?”

He might as well be the ashes of a Leitner by this point.

“Sorry-” He manages weakly, voice muffled by the pillow he’s buried his face into.

“Sorry?” Nemo’s fingers gently cup his jaw, cool against his skin and for a brief moment he imagines steam, “For what?” 

“Do I have to say it out loud?” He snorts into the pillow, “You know what just happened-”

Nemo snorts and then lightly thumbs his nipple and he moans. 

“That I just found out I can make you cum just from doing that?” Nemo  does it again and giggles and oh that doesn’t help matters at all as he tries to bury his face into the pillow further. And somehow there’s a tiny bit of him that’s aware enough to realise that this new wave of embarrassment rapidly… goes south. And that wave makes him bite down on a moan as he feels a twitch that 1. Reminds him these jeans are too damned tight right now and 2. That he needs to add this whole situation to the exponentially growing list of ‘things to unpack later. 

He sighs and manages to turn to face Nemo who kneels between his legs. 

“So-” Nemo skims a finger over the skin around his navel and he squirms before they flick the piercing in his navel, “Can I see?” 

He nods and shudders as Nemo’s hands work over his hip bone to where his jeans hang low on his hips with the waistband of his boxers peeking out just over the top and Nemo makes short work of his belt and fly and as he lifts his hips to help them he sighs with relief as he finds himself exposed. 

“Woah… that’s… that’s a lot,” Nemo breathes with an awed chuckle and he swallows hard as Nemo meets his gaze, “I… I made you do that?”

“Yeah… you did,” Gerry chuckles, the embarrassment now replaced with a strange swell of pride. 

“Does that hurt?” 

“A little… Don’t stop,” Gerry moans and grabs the sheets as Nemo gives a few more testing touches, “It feels.. Good,”  

(He also has to add that to the list) 

“I won’t,” Nemo grins as they wrap a hand around him  “If you touch yourself for me,” their grin takes on a bend that’s downright devilish and he manages a strained chuckle as he starts to thumb over his nipple and gasps which turns into a moan as Nemo takes him into their mouth as they tease him slowly. 

He whimpers and bites down on his lip, one of Nemo’s hands placed on his hip and he does his best to keep his hips still. Everything is on the edge of being too much but also not enough as Nemo continues to keep things slow. He does his best to match Nemo’s rhythm as he teases himself. 

Once again it’s all over all too soon. 

Nemo gives a muffled gasp as he jolts and he tenses for a moment but Nemo continues to tease him, seemingly intent on drawing every last drop from him as they give muffled moans as he whimpers. 

Nemo comes up for air eventually as they slowly release him with a wet pop.

Nemo continues to tease him as they seem intent on drawing every last drop from him as they moan around his cock as he whimpers before they eventually come up for air as they release him with a wet pop. 

With shaky hands he pulls them in for a kiss and… Oh. 

He feels Nemo smirk against his lips as he swallows down his own cum. (Not for the first time… what can he say he’s been… curious in the past) 

They break for air again. Gerry’s hands rest on Nemo’s hips.

“You came so hard for me,” Nemo grins as they pull him in for a biting kiss, “Good boy,”

He moans against their lips as he lets a hand wander downwards and

Oh

He cups them gently, the soft cotton of their boxers is soaked to the touch. Nemo whimpers and tenses their thighs as he rubs against clit as Nemo looks away from him with their face flushed red,

“Looks like you came so hard for me too-” He grins before he pulls Nemo in for another kiss as he slips a hand into their boxers. 

[hyunjinhoee]

Pistachio Flavored

hellooo its been long tbh- but i hope you all like this one <3

hyunjin x fem!reader

genre:- fluff

Warnings:- slight cussing

Word Count: 1.0k

"Fuck", You groaned fanning yourself, annoyed by the sweat that covered your body. You hated summers solely for the extremely hot days where you were forced to take bath three times a day. It was unusually hot which was just a cherry on top to the fact that your air conditioner had decided to stop working on the day you needed it the most

Cursing once again, you roll of your bed grabbing your purse, locking your door pretty sure that a cold, sweet ice cream would hopefully make your mood better

Walking into the nearest ice cream parlour, you were quite shocked to see that there was barely anyone present except a dark haired man by the counter exchanging some words with the man working next to him. You took a step in, a small bell rang announcing your arrival as the attention of both the men turned to you

"good afternoon, miss", the dark haired man greeted, faking a smile, "slow day huh", You stare at the menu displayed just above him, "I mean it was on the news to stay in", He shakes his head as you meet his eyes, slight blush covering your cheeks due to you being embarrassed not being aware of the warning.

"I'll have one pistachio flavo-"

"who the fuck eats pistachio ice cream?"

"excuse me?-"

You clicked your tongue as the dark haired man in front of you rolled his eyes. "Cup or cone?", he doesn't try to hide his disgust, "cone", you fold your arms unimpressed by his behaviour, "only when I thought it couldn't get worse", The man sighs, a fairly visible disappointment in his voice

"Oh I am sorry, I don't like your basic chocolate and vanilla, Hwang Hyunjin", You answer him back addressing him by the name on the batch pinned to his shirt. "Well at least they don't taste like shit", He scoffs, "you might as well eat mint chocolate", He doesn't hold back pissing you off than you already were, "I don't really know what your problem his but please just give me my ice cream", though you were ready to argue you chose to be mature unlike him

Hyunjin rolls his eyes once again as he puts on gloves, taking out one cone out of the transparent glass box. "single scoop?", He bats an eye at you and just to annoy him more, "one scoop of pistachio and one scoop of mint chocolate"

"might as well murder someone at this point", He hands you the cone, a small smile on his face as he somewhat liked your teasing, "oh yeah, you", You take a lick of your ice cream, handing him the money, "don't worry its for free", Hyunjin shakes his head as you stare at him

Ignoring his personality, he looked quite appealing with plump lips and his long dark hair tied up in a half ponytail with two strands falling just above his lips complementing his face. "I know, I'm good looking but please its creepy", he smirks bring you to reality as once again blush covers your cheeks out of embarrassment

"Narcissist bitch", You roll your eyes, turning away walking out of the parlour, "uhm excuse me?", a voice calls you from behind as you notice it was the other person working with Hyunjin, "uhm he was asking your name", the fox eyed employee breathes your lips curve into a small smile, "Y/N"

---

It's been a month since you started to visit that specific ice cream parlour every day just to annoy Hyunjin by ordering the same flavoured ice cream you did when you both first met. You two became friends with a few similarities you both shared such as passion for drawing and music but he was also an impressive dancer who belonged in a quite popular dance team. His talents and passion made you more attracted to him than you already were. You had started develop feelings for him, craving to spend more time with him and waiting for his texts as you both stayed awake all night entertaining each other with strings of a little bit flirty texts

"hey princess, again with your same order", Hyunjin smirked as you walked in, "what happened?", he looked at you once you didn't reply to his fun greeting, "I had this one interview today and I fucking screwed it up", You buried your face in your palms trying not to break down in front of him

"here have your mint chocolate and that fucking pistachio and wait for two minutes cause my shift is over", he handed you your cone as you sat there waiting for him to come out.

"it's not the end of everything, Y/N", He brushed off a strand from your face tugging it behind your ear, awakening the butterflies for you lost the count of. "But-", You licked your ice cream, "-I really wanted this", you pouted as he chuckled, "and you might, you never know", he tried to be optimistic as you smiled appreciating his efforts

Your gaze met his, your eyes unconsciously averting to his lips as you got your frequent urge to place your lips against his, curious about how it would feel. As if being able to read your thoughts, Hyunjin leans in a little making sure that you don't feel uncomfortable. His lips brush against yours teasing you a little but he slightly pulls back trying to read your reaction. Satisfied with you not pulling back or saying anything against it, he finally presses his lips against yours allowing to savour the taste you were waiting for since the first day you met him. He guided the kiss as your lips moved matching the rhythm of his. His one hand sliding around your waist, he pulls you closer deepening the kiss making you smile in between.

He pulls back as he smiles back at you, a hint of pink blush covering his cheeks

"pistachio doesn't taste that bad after all"

[geo-winchester]

WILDEST DREAM

Summary: you were Marc girlfriend and crush of Steven, you help him on the dessert until you knew he kept something from you.

A/n: hi everyone! If you haven’t seen the last episode this might seem as spoiler so read it only if you had seen the last episode, I change some of it, and for those who make a request, don’t worry I’m still working on them! Hope you like this little story and had a great night

Moon night masterlist

——————

You drive as Steven keep looking at you, you try to stay focus as he seen you like a dream, like if you were a goddess of one of his book, but he also was trying to know you, like if he focuse really hard he would remember you.

-Stop looking at her, she hate that- Marc said, a few seconds later you say the same thing making Steven smile.

-Sorry, I just trying to remember you- he said.

-Oh we haven’t met…

-So how you know about me?

-Marc told me.

-He told you about me?- you nod -I thought he never speak of this.

-I don’t know why he did it but I’m one of the people that know about you.

-What did he told you about me?

-That you love gold fishes and you speak French and that you’re obsess with the ancient Egypt, you would be best buddies with John- you said with a smile.

-Don’t ask- Marc told him before he could ask who he was.

-So are you friend of Marc- you nod.

-I know what your thinking Steven and stops, she’s my girl and I need to protect her- Marc told him.

-Hey I know you been lock for a while but, if we want to survive, we are going to need Marc- you told him but Steven shook his head.

-Marc and I had a deal, he leave…

-He said that?- you asked heart broken, Steven apologize but you smile at him -you have nothing to apologize, it’s Marc who want to leave.

The journey across the dessert wasn’t difficult, he keep asking questions about you and Marc, you ask him about his life, when you find the camp you notice that something was off, it look like it’s been days since someone was there but still you separate to collect anything it could help you, Steven came back with some water and handled it to you with his smile.

-Come on- you said after drinking some of the water -I’ll help you- he look at you confuse and you show him the rappel equipment.

-I have to day I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my whole life- he said as you put him the equipment -the adventure, I mean- you giggle.

-Of course- you said, you were close to him making your heart race as Marc always do, you shook your head a little -Steven can I ask you something- he nod -did he… did Marc really love me?

-Yes, he wants to protect you that’s why he made that deal with Khonshu, he thinks he wants you for some reason…

-And he didn’t have the guts to tell me that?- you said angry -he should know I can protect myself for god sakes- he nod.

-You been protecting me- Steven said making you laugh.

-That’s why I like you, you’re honest and…- before you could say anything else he kiss you, and damn he kiss just as your boyfriend but more delicate as if he was afraid to hurt you, you smile when he let you go -come on Steven let’s get done with this, I’ll go first see you down- you wink before you get inside the thumb, you look amaze to the statues and the symbols, you kneel and draw a heart, a few seconds later Steven fall behind you -Steven are you ok?

-Yeah yeah I’m peachy…

-This is only a start of what I’ll do to you if you kiss her again- Marc said on the mirror he had in the pocket but Steven didn’t listen to him, he was looking at the symbols.

-Did you draw this?- he asked, you nod.

-it was an old tradition I have with John, my first husband, we used to draw it as a prank, it means that the other one was to slow for not finding what ever we were searching at- you said -sorry I talk as if you know him, you could say that he was a mercenary like us, but he knew a lot about history, he thought me most of the things I know, he was kill on a expedition…

-I know he’ll be happy to see you here.

After that moment everything happened so fast, you were attack by a guardian making you get apart from Steven, then the talk with Harrow and the awful things he said, you didn’t want to believe him, but you need to know, so when you found Steven, he was excited that you did it, that you won until he notice your eyes.

-Yn are you all right?

-Did he kill him?- you asked, he was confused -Did Marc kill John?

-I don’t know…

-Marc tell me the fucking truth right now- you said, in a blink of an eye Steven was gone, Marc took your hand.

-Come on darling we need to get out of here…

-I’m not going anywhere until you tell me the truth, where you there?- he sighed and nod -fuck!- you scream.

-I’m sorry Yn but I didn’t kill him- he said looking down.

-So who was it?

-My partner…

-And you let my husband died! Did you even try to help him?- you push him and he took your arms, you could barely see him from your tears.

-I tried! He was my friend too- he said -I was shot too, I don’t know how but I survived and then I found you…

-You never tell me this! Where I thought It was love it was guilt, you stood by my side because you felt guilty!

-I love you Yn! Even when you were with him- he said before you could say anything the two of you heard someone getting close -Go! I’ll find you.

Marc wake up on the couch of someone’s apartment, he was confused, he didn’t remember anything, the tv was on with some cartoon he tried to turn it off but he step a toy making him sweat the moment he grave it the door of the apartment opened and a boy, who was the perfect mixed of you and Marc, run to him followed by you, when you saw him you walk to him with a smile before you kiss him.

-How did you slept?- then you notice the toy in his hand -John didn’t I told you to not leave toys in the floor?

-Yes mommy- the little boy said -Daddy can we watch that movie you like?

-Of course- he said but he still wasn’t sure what was happening, he follow you to the kitchen where it was a picture of the three of you on the fridge along with some draws, he walk through the apartment as he watch the different photos of you.

-Honey- you said -Remember you promised Mr. H help him move some furniture.

-Of course- he said.

Harrow live in the apartment in front of them, he had a lot of old stuff, must of them Egyptians. He didn’t know why but it was something in him he didn’t trust maybe the shoes or the Cain remind him of something he hate, he was just helping him until something he said making stop.

-You can help someone who don’t want help- Harrow said making something in Marc Head clic, he look at Harrow horrified -Are you ok, son?

-You shot me?- Marc said.

-what why would I do something like that?- he tried to step close but Marc try to get out of his reach.

-Stay away from me- he said as he run through the doors, he found one open with a sarcophagus with someone trying to get out, Steven get out confused and amaze that the two of them finally look at each other.

-Marc, how?

-I don’t know but we need to leave!

In a blink of an the room change, they were on the apartment again, this time Steven was the one looking at the photos as Marc tried to found someone useful.

-Marc- Steven said -apparently we’re married to Yn.

-Focus Steven.

-Would it be bad to stay?- he asked, Marc look at him confused -Think about it, here we have Yn and a kid, this was the life we always dreamed about.

-I know but she’s out there and I’m not going to let her anything happened to her, I love her so much I can’t let that happen- Steven nod.

-Let go save our girl.

-That’s how I like it but it’s my girl.

Xxxxxxx

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[the-last-kenobi]

If you’re still taking requests (feel no pressure to do this) 14 with Obi-wan and a knight Anakin because that sounds very much like him

A fluff prompt!! I’m so excited, thank you! 🤍

From this various prompts list.

Requests are currently closed.

_

Obi-Wan Kenobi had not slept in three nights, and his Lineage was not happy about it.

Ahsoka and Anakin watched with narrowed eyes from a balcony as the Jedi Master mingled with the crowd, smiling softly at anyone who engaged his attention, keeping close to the side of Chancellor Palpatine and Vice Chair Mas Amedda.

For a man who was running on very little sleep and hardly any sustenance, Obi-Wan was managing to maintain the image of the perfect Jedi — civil, humble, charming, wise. Power concealed just below the surface.

Every so often, Palpatine would draw the Jedi deeper into some conversation or other, or pat him on the shoulder in a strangely paternal fashion.

“Why does he keep doing that?” Ahsoka hissed to her Master. “Master Kenobi hates strangers touching him!”

“The Chancellor isn’t a stranger,” Anakin said defensively. But he watched again as Palpatine settled a hand on his former Master’s arm and saw the slight tension creasing Obi-Wan’s forehead, and had to concede that Obi-Wan was feeling uncomfortable. “But yeah. I don’t think the Chancellor knows, he wouldn’t do it if he did. He’s probably just too used to working with me instead. We’re more like friends.”

Ahsoka raised her eyebrows. “And would he have let you go home by now? We were supposed to be able to leave almost two hours ago.”

Anakin sighed. He leaned on the railing, absentmindedly picking at a carved design in the metal with his mech hand, creating a small clicking noise. He scanned the room again, searching for unlikely threats, and then returned his gaze to his Master and his friend, still penned in the center of a colorful crowd all waiting for attention. To see and be seen. Vultures.

Obi-Wan had more patience for this sort of thing, it was true, but it was apparent to those who knew him well — to Anakin — that he was run ragged. That every new face turning in his direction, awed and pettily delighted by meeting both the Supreme Chancellor and a High Jedi General, was another weight on his shoulders.

Anakin glanced over at his Padawan. Ahsoka’s eyes lit up as she saw the look in his eyes.

“How do you wanna do this?” she asked, tapping her fingers excitedly on the banister. “I know you like explosions, but if you set something off, Master Obi-Wan will definitely have to flee with the Chancellor to safety and then he’ll be gone for ages.”

“You’re right, Snips,” Anakin said, and a smirk pulled at his lips. He ruffled his hair proudly, ignoring Ahsoka’s eye roll, and said, “So I’ll take a leaf from Obi-Wan’s book. I’ll just go right down there and use my words.”

Anakin beamed.

Ahsoka looked as if she suddenly preferred an explosion.

-

“Yes, hi, hello, excuse me, coming through, yep, pardon me, just walking here,” Anakin threw scattered, inane apologies in every direction as he plowed a path right through the entire gala.

Ahsoka trailed in his wake, smiling awkwardly at the people who scattered with startled looks and scowling ferociously at those who dared look cross.

Obi-Wan spotted them first. He was deep in conversation with a representative from the Core, but his blue eyes flickered to them briefly and his smile became slightly taut; he raised one of his hands in what might have passed for a wave but was, to his Padawans, a clear signal to turn around.

Anakin disregarded this subtle warning immediately.

He strolled directly up to Obi-Wan, bowed slightly, and put a hand on the Master’s shoulder, smiling blindingly at the representative. “Good evening. I’m afraid it’s time for Master Kenobi to depart. The Jedi thank you for your time.”

The representative raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

Palpatine, on the other hand, suddenly popped up right beside them, a wide smile on his grandfatherly face. “Anakin, Knight Skywalker, how good to see you! I thought you’d gone home hours ago, why, surely you need your rest after that last campaign.”

Anakin kept a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Ahsoka shifted to stand behind them, smiling a little too widely, the points of her teeth glinting, at anyone who looked at them askance.

“We had quite the victory,” Anakin agreed. He preened slightly. But — “And you’re right, Chancellor, we do need our rest. General Kenobi has served very well, and we’re all eager to rest and prepare for our next deployment.”

Palpatine’s smile widened still further. “Ah, yes. General Kenobi is an incredible public servant, he’s such a delight to have at events such as these.”

This time it was Anakin who tensed slightly. Ahsoka sidled up surreptitiously and linked her arm with Master Obi-Wan’s, flanking him between them, drawn up as tall as she could make herself.

Anakin looked intently at Palpatine, trying to communicate to his friend that now was not the time for politics. He’d thought this would be easy, but the Chancellor seemed determined to keep Kenobi with him all evening. The crowd had begun to disperse, realizing they weren’t going to be receiving any attention for awhile, but they milled about nearby, clearly listening in.

“I—” Obi-Wan began, but Anakin decided to risk his Master’s wrath and just cut him right off.

“And he and I are always happy to be invited by such gracious hosts!” he blurted out quickly. “But sadly, we will have to wait for another invitation before we get the chance to enjoy one another’s company. We really do have to be going.”

Palpatine studied him for a moment.

Go on, Anakin urged him silently. Please. Come on. You know we want to leave.

The silence dragged.

“Master Kenobi,” Palpatine said warmly, turning to Obi-Wan, and Anakin felt a wave of relief. “What do you say? Shall we… let you out of your duties for the sake of your valiant friends?”

Oh, what the fuck?

It had the ring of a joke but was worded like a trap. And Anakin could see, in slow-motion, the flicker of resignation and bitterness deep in Obi-Wan’s blue eyes, just behind the friendly smile, and knew what was about to happen if he didn’t do something about it.

Anakin let out a loud laugh and clapped Obi-Wan on the shoulder again. “Sorry, everyone. We’re on a time crunch, we have to get back in time for dessert.”

Ahsoka laughed, too, and clung a little tighter to Obi-Wan’s arm.

Obi-Wan looked somewhere between confused and horror struck.

Palpatine’s smile froze.

Anakin chuckled and waved at the surrounding crowd, shrugging in a you-know-how-it-is sort of way. “Hey, he promised us milkshakes. General I may be, but I still demand my old Master fulfill his promises of unhealthy desserts.”

“Hey, I think out of everyone, I deserve milkshakes the most!” Ahsoka interjected, her tone teasing.

A few of the politicians shot her amused smiles. Ordinarily she would have bristled, but in this instance she just shot them knowing, conspiratorial looks, like a child deliberately making mischief. There was a ripple of laughter.

“I don’t know about that,” Anakin said. “I think I definitely took out the most droids.”

“Riiiight,” said Ashoka. “After I took out the battlement. By myself.”

They ribbed back and forth. The gala was eating it up, their faces amused and indulgent, intrigued by the display of youthful frivolity and friendship the Jedi were giving them. Obi-Wan was still pinned between them, rooted helplessly to the spot.

Anakin looked back at the Chancellor, expecting a smile.

Instead he got a blank expression — which quickly turned into a loud bark of laughter and a grandfatherly grin. He clapped his hands to gain the attention of the crowd and said, “Oh, I believe our brave Hero and his friends have earned themselves a night out for something as innocent and delightful as milkshakes, don’t you say?”

The crowd laughed and nodded; there was scattered applause, and it was done.

Anakin winked at the Chancellor and then turned on the spot, he and Ahsoka striding out the room with Obi-Wan trapped in the middle, waving and bowing at anyone who smiled in their direction.

The three of them escaped out of the ballroom, down the flight of stairs, and out onto the grand balcony overlooking the landing platform, where their ship was waiting in the semi-darkness of the Coruscant night.

Anakin and Ahsoka turned at the same time to look at Obi-Wan, each of them still holding on to one of the Master’s arms.

There was a long silence.

Obi-Wan stared tiredly down at the speeder for a very long time.

Anakin looked at his Padawan nervously.

But then Obi-Wan’s lips twitched beneath his beard, and then he chuckled, and then he burst into uproarious laughter. The sound was infectious; relieved and excited, the other two clung to him and laughed, all of them half-leaning on the railing, cackling like idiots.

They laughed until they ran out of breath, and then laughed a little more.

After a long while, Obi-Wan disentangled his arms from their controlling grips but immediately settled them back, one on Anakin’s shoulder and the other resting on Ahsoka’s back. “I think,” he said, “I promised you milkshakes. Dex’s?”

“Oh, I definitely remember you saying that!” Ahsoka said. “Dex’s is great.”

“Yeah, and you also definitely said you’d pay,” Anakin wheedled.

“No,” Obi-Wan said firmly.

“Awww. Worth a shot,” Anakin whispered to his Padawan.

Obi-Wan smiled. “I said I’d pay for Ahsoka’s. You, my Knighted former Padawan, can pay for your own dessert.”

Ahsoka cheered. Anakin groaned. They strolled off into the night, ambling without haste or urgency or fear, connected by light touches of the hands and arms, and by something deeper and unseen and familial.

There would be time for the war and politics later.

Right now, they were late for dessert.

fin

[kaunis-sielu]

Fire Dogs: 6

Steve pulls Grant’s hand off of your arm then steps in between you and Grant.

“Fawn are you okay?” He asks softly.

“I’m okay,” you assure him and he turns his gaze onto Grant.

“I thought I told you that you were to leave her alone.” His voice is low and furious, “And not only do I find you here, harassing her, putting your hands on her but you’re also telling everyone that she’s an Omega even though you know she doesn’t want people to know.”

“What’s it to you?” Grant sneers and you almost pity him. Steve, externally seems calm but you can feel the rage.

“You’re going to leave Fawn alone. You’re not going to tell anyone else she’s an Omega, you’re going to think she’s a Beta and if you do come across her you’re going to treat her with the respect she deserves.” Grant seems to be fighting the Alpha command, he grits his teeth and sweat starts to form on his brow. You know he won’t beat it though, your knees have practically buckled at the power behind his command. You see why they call him a True Alpha.

“What if I don’t?”

“I’ll kill you. Omega protection laws say that as her Alpha I can defend her in anyway I might need to.” He warns and while Grant pales Steve continues, “Now, you’re going to apologize to Fawn, you’re going to leave her alone and I’m not going to have to remind you again.”

“Sorry Fawn.” You nod then Steve turns him around and gives him a little shove and Grant meanders away from you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve asks turning toward you.

“Yea, are you?” When he looks at you quizzically you clarify, “you were so angry.”

“You could tell?”

“I could feel it.” The slow smile he gives you causes your heart to race.

“Oh Honey,” he breathes pressing his forehead to yours. You can feel his breath slide across your cheek and you sigh softly as you close your eyes. Something wet hits your cheek and you pull away from Steve and look up at the sky as the clouds break.

You’re practically drenched in a matter of seconds,

“Rain! Steve rain!” You cry tilting your head back, a smile stretched across your face as the rain pours down on you. Finally, you’ve been waiting for this rain to knock down the fires and it’s finally here.

But no more fires means no more Steve. Your smile falls off of your face as quickly as it bloomed. “Rain.”

“Honey,” Steve says looking concerned.

“No more fire means no more you.” You choke out and he gently gathers you in to him.

“Shh, we can talk about it. This might not knock out all the fire.”

“But if it does,”

“We figure it out.” He soothes, “dance with me?”

“What?” You ask not moving your head from where it’s pressed to his chest. He takes your left hand gently in his right and puts your right hand up on his shoulder while wrapping his left arm around your back then he starts to sway.

It’s soothing, the way he slowly sways and hums. The rainwater is cool as it falls but you find that you don’t care at least not until it gets chilly.

“You wanna head home?”

“Yes, can, can you sleep with me again tonight?”

“Yea Honey.” You round the car and slide into the passengers seat before Cooper licks your face.

“Thanks Coop. You good boy.” You tell him and Steve starts the car then heads for home. Steve reaches over and offers you one of his hands, which you happily take and leave in your lap. It’s been nearly three weeks at this point and you’re not sure how you’re going to feel when he leaves. You’ve heard that it can be excruciating for an Omega to be without their Alpha but Steve technically isn’t your Alpha.

It’s still raining heavily when you get back home. You and Steve cook dinner together after he showers and you change into something dry. As you eat you talk a little about your day, how your drawings were approved and that printing will start soon. Steve is proud of you, a welcome feeling after Grant.

Your heart sinks when Bucky comes home early.

“Fires look like they’re all out.” He says with a grin and you have to blink away your tears before either man notices. Cooper does notice though and he comes over to you putting his head in your lap. You pet him absentmindedly while half listening to Steve and Bucky talk. They talk about the fire, the rain and when the subject of their trip home comes up you have to leave the room. It makes you too sad to think about them leaving.

You take Cooper out, grabbing the umbrella that you keep by the door on your way out. You don’t fool yourself and think that Steve hasn’t noticed your change in mood or the tears gathering on your eyelashes but you need a moment. You let Cooper run around in the rain, one of his favorite things to do, and you let a few of the tears fall.

You’re so conflicted on what to do. You’re 99% sure that Steve is your Alpha. The one Alpha for you, with how he makes you feel, and how he treats you and the fact that you can feel his emotions are all signs that he’s probably your Alpha. You’d be completely thrilled if he didn’t come from New York. If he wasn’t the True Alpha of his pack. But none of those things are true. He is the True Alpha, he lives in New York City, and you live here.

“Hey,” Steve says quietly from just inside the house. “You okay?”

“I don’t know.” You admit not looking at him,“I wanna be but I don’t know.”

“Wanna talk me through it?”

“I’m just really conflicted. I know in my gut you’re my Alpha, but you live there and I live here and I like it here. I like the smallness, the woods and the mountains. I can’t ask you to move your whole pack, and shouldn’t you being my Alpha be enough? Why isn’t it enough? Is there something wrong me with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you.” Steve assures you, “all of your feelings and thoughts are completely valid. If it makes you feel any better I know in my gut you’re my Omega. I’ve known since you opened the door. The pack and I will do whatever you need to be happy, no Alpha command needed.”

“I can’t ask you all to move here. How big is your pack?”

“All together around fifty.”

“Fifty! Steve! That’s huge!”

“Why don’t you come to New York with us? You and I can go upstate? See if we can find somewhere that’s close enough to the city but quiet enough for you?”

“I’m scared Steve.”

“Of what?”

“You know the last Alpha I had. What if this doesn’t work and I’ve moved my whole life to the other side of the country?”

“Do you own this place?” You nod, “then keep it. If it doesn’t work you still have a home but if it does we have a vacation place.”

“Would you want me to stop taking my suppressants?”

“If you want to. I know it’s easier to have kids when you’re not on them.”

“You’d want kids with me?”

“I want it all with you Omega. I want the bonding. The marriage. The family. I want all of it.” You’re floored by his admission you finally turn toward him and throw an arm around his neck pulling his lips to yours. Steve is gentle when he pulls your body flush against his, he’s warm and solid against you.

“I’ll come to New York with you. Are you sure you could live outside the city?”

“For you? Yes. Easily and happily.”

“Can we bring Cooper?”

“Of course. Are you gonna be alright traveling with the three of us?”

“Yea. I think I can manage.” You tell him with a smile, “when do you want to leave?”

“I don’t know, I’ve got to talk to Sam and Bucky. I’m sure they’ll wanna get back as much as I do but we have to be sure the fires are out for good. Maybe three days?”

“Okay, you might need to talk me down again. Get me out of my own head.”

“I can do that.” He promises, “you’re sure you want to go?”

“Yes. When I think of being left here without you it fills me with such dread. But I might get nervous about meeting your pack and about being on the east coast in a huge city.”

“The pack is going to love you. You don’t need to worry about that. Can I check your ribs again?”

“I suppose. Come on Cooper!”

“He’s soaked.” Steve says and you glance over at a very muddy Cooper.

“Yea, he loves the rain.” You’ll need to give him a bath before bedtime, luckily he loves bath time almost as much as he loves the rain. “I’ll have to give him a b-a-t-h. He loves them and will lose his mind when I say the word.”

“Ah.” Steve gives you a little half smile, “want help?”

“Only if you’re ready to get drenched again.”

“Bring it on.”

“Hey Cooper, wanna take a bath?” You say and as promised loses his mind barking and dancing around you excitedly. You let him in and he bolts downstairs.

Steve helps you give Cooper a bath and as you predict you’re both completely soaked by the time you’re done.

“Who got a bath? You two or Cooper?” Bucky teases as you and Steve go past him in the living room.

“Cooper, give him a hug.” You tell the dog who runs over to Bucky and still soaking wet jumps up into Bucky’s lap and throws his body onto Bucky’s torso.

“Awe Cooper!” You and Steve laugh as Bucky debates if he wants your dog off of him or if he’s just going to let it happen. He finally surrenders and hugs Cooper back as you and Steve head upstairs.

After Steve checks your shoulder and ribs he seems pleased with how you’re healing. Cooper sleeps with Bucky instead of you and honestly it’s kind of nice that you and Steve have the bed to yourselves. It would be even nicer if you could relax.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you tell me about the pack?”

“Can’t sleep?” You hum softly in response. So you drift off to his voice telling you about his pack.

The next three days are busy, you get things together for your trip to New York. You use as much of the perishable food as you can and bring other stuff to the food shelf in town. You pack up all of your book stuff, some of your clothes and whatever you’ll need for Cooper. You and Steve decide that you’ll drive your car with Cooper and some of your stuff then Sam and Bucky will drive the truck with everything else that you want to bring out and their stuff.

It’s weird locking up your place for what could be the last time. But you think that you’re ready, Steve is watching you out of the corner of his eye while he talks to Sam and Bucky. He gives you this sweet smile when you come walking down the sidewalk, Cooper on your heels.

“Ready to go Omega?” Steve asks and you nod, both his friends share a pleased look then both head for the drivers seat. A tussle breaks out, Sam getting Bucky into a headlock but Bucky is able to muscle his way out of the headlock and throws Sam to the ground before jumping into the truck with a triumphant yell.

“Is this going to be a bad idea?” You ask an unamused Steve.

“They’ll be fine. I’m more annoyed with them, I just know they’re gonna embarrass me on this trip.” He says as you walk to your car together, he opens the back for Cooper then buckles him in and joins you in the car.

“Maybe I should’ve ridden with them to hear the stories.”

“Absolutely not.” Steve says lightly, “besides you wouldn’t really leave your Alpha all alone would you?”

“Not unless I have to.” You admit and he takes your hand. He presses a kiss to the back of it and gives you a soft smile. You’d let him mark you right now if he was a normal Alpha you realize with a start, your anxiety spikes at the thought.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just, this is big ya know? I’ve been this fiercely independent fake Beta for like 18 years or so? And now I’m leaving that life behind.”

“You can still be an independent fake Beta.”

“No I can’t,” you admit, “I didn’t renew my prescription. I have a week left.”

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[nctsworld]

reigniting

✩ mark x reader | dance au | enemies to lovers | car s*x | smut | fluff | 1.6k

SUMMARY ⇾ your hate for your dance captain (and ex-best friend) melts and evolves into something more for the night. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ smut (near the end), car s*x, swearing, angst in backstory RATING ⇾ mature FOR ⇾ @markleesflathead​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ yes i’m bitter that most of my fics in ask form don’t show up in tag so i might have to post them as individual fics hhh || @markleesflathead​ idk how this ended up into car s*x but i’m sorry if it isn’t what you really expected slkfmd also i’m v flattered to be one of your fave writers *_* thanks for the bday wishes!!

“I missed this.”

Mark suddenly says into the air after catching his breath from all the laughing he just did. With the hand that’s been resting on the steering wheel since he parked the car fifteen minutes ago, he swipes his thumb against it.

Your laughter subsides too, turning your head in the passenger seat to get a good look at him.

The closest street lamp isn’t near enough to cast a light to see all his features clearly, but you don’t need much lighting to see the waver behind his bespectacled face, nor the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

“I missed you,” he whispers softly, then matches your eyes with a tilt of his head.

The beginning was simple. You and Mark, best friends since middle school, about to attend the same university and were going to do everything together, including extracurriculars.

Which included the university’s main competitive hip-hop dance team, since both of you were on your high school’s too.

From what you heard from upperclassmen, every year, the team offered at least five spots open. Of course, Mark and you were confident in yourselves and each other to make the team.

But during your first year, only one spot was available on the team.

The straining of your friendship began to slowly occur, since you saw less of each other in order to train more individually for the auditions.

And when the auditions happened, there was a new tension between Mark and you. Still friends, but competitiveness was a prevalent wall between you two.

The wall grew larger, tangled with vines of jealousy and bitterness, when Mark received the spot, not you.

Both parties tried hard to keep the friendship afloat, but it eventually came crashing down.

“You’re just fucking jealous that I got in and you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” you said. “and I should be, because I’m the better dancer.”

“As if.” he scoffed. He spat out the next words venomously—

“If you were better they would’ve chose you, but you’ve just never been as good of a dancer as me.”

That was the last time you spoke to Mark... for a while, at least.  

When second year came by, you decided to prove him wrong and obtain a spot on the team. Successfully, you did, but partway through the term, the captain dropped out and, to your dismay, Mark was given captaincy.

Fast-forward to today, Mark constantly gave you shit during practices and you knew it was personal.

Sure, you could’ve quit, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. However, you always did wonder why he didn’t decide to kick you off the team when he had the power to do so.

Following one practice, Mark ordered you to come by the studio on a separate night for a talk. He claimed it to be extra training, but you were mentally prepared for him to finally remove you from the team.

However, you were wrong and the unexpected happened—the wall between you two began to crumble. The hostile professionalism during the extra session grew into an area of familiarity, remnants of a lost friendship. After the session, Mark swallowed his pride and apologized about what he said back then, even offering to take you out to dinner.

During the meal, both of you caught each other up on the last year or so, and at the end of the night, Mark drove you home.

Laughing, smiling, and talking with you like the last couple of years were a nightmare faded into nothingness.

And you didn’t mind it, because you missed him too.

But instead of telling him that, you nibble on your bottom lip and rock your head forward with a small smile.

Continuing the conversation from where you left off, after Mark agreed to stop giving you such a hard time during practice, you say, “Can I ask you to stop doing one more thing during practice?”

“What’s up?”

“Please, for the love of God,” you say with your hands clasped in a prayer. “Stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting.”

A hearty chuckle escapes from Mark, leaning his head back into the headrest. “Why is it distracting?”

“You know why!” you exclaim, beaming. “I know you do it on purpose!”

He cocks an eyebrow playfully. “And why would I do that?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "Because I know the oh-so humble Mark Lee still loves it when he gets attention."

The driver runs his tongue over the bottom of his teeth in a smirk, hand still on the steering wheel.

"And what about you?” he retorts. “You must still have a thing for arms if you think it's distracting."

You gasp inaudibly, unsure of how he could still remember that tidbit after all these years, and you twist your upper body to inch near him, glaring at him accusingly. "Is that why you do it?"

"Maybe, maybe not..." he shrugs nonchalantly. Leaning closer to you, parroting your stance, he adds in a teasing whisper along with a squint of his eyes.

"You'll never know."

There’s a passing beat as your eyes lock, one that carries the weight of the years of loving each other as friends, hating each other as enemies, working together as dancers, and everything in between.

A moment of connection that represents what everything has been working towards to for a long time, even if you never thought you’d have the chance to ever have Mark in your life again.

His look falters for a millisecond, flicking to your lips, then straight back to your eyes as if he shouldn’t have done that.

The corner of your mouth lifts slightly.

"Are you going to kiss me, Mark,” you whisper daringly. “or are you going to keep staring?"

You’re awfully aware of both of your breathing. Yours, heavy and wanting. His, light and barely existent.

"How do you know I wanna kiss you?" he croaks, a small crack in his voice underlying his question.

Because maybe a little part of you always wondered what it’d be like for Mark Lee to want to kiss you since you were kids—for him to send you that anxious starry-eyed yearning that could send your heart into cardiac arrest.

And now, from first-hand experience, you know it really does.  

You hold your breath and question back—

"Am I wrong?”

The tension in the air snaps. He’s fast to cup your cheeks and crash his mouth into yours. Soft lips move in tandem with yours as you rest your hands on his shoulders, lightly tugging at his body.

The first, tender kiss is quickly thrown aside, along with your shirts. The desire escalates immensely and you’re suddenly straddling him in the driver’s seat, now pushed back to give extra room for both individuals.

"Should we slow down?" you ask offhandedly at one point while Mark’s mouth leaves a hot trail down the side of your neck. At the same time, his fingers glide and grip onto your bare waist, making their way to grasp your breasts.

Mark jerks away from your neck and carefully caresses the back of your head. "Do you want to?"

"Mm-mm,” you hurriedly shake your head and drag him into another strong kiss.

The exciting rush continues to run through both bodies present. When you return to the passenger seat momentarily to rid of your pants, Mark shimmies his bottoms and briefs down to his ankles and pulls a condom from his glove compartment.

“How often do you have car sex?” you joke, straddling him once again after he wraps himself.

In his reclined position, Mark looks up and scans your body quickly, both indulging in your natural beauty and in disbelief that you are here with him right now, after all these years.

“Hey, a guy’s gotta be safe—fuck, God.”

All quips and logic are thrown out the window when you sit on his length.

You have one hand pressed against his defined stomach, the other on the car ceiling. Bouncing with no end in sight, you allow the pleasure to enrapture your senses. Muffled whimpers reverberate against the inner side of your wrist as you feel him deeply with every movement.

On the other hand, Mark tries his best to keep his focus on you, but the intensity breaks him down. He groans in pace with your moving body, and he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Mark—” you cry. You rip your hand from the car roof and, without thought, frantically push it against the driver’s window, smudging the frost that all your collective breathing conjured up. You’re surprisingly already coming undone, and so is your lover beneath you.

“I’m close,” he pants thickly. His hazy gaze attempts to meet your half-lidded eyes, but you’re losing control. All you can do is barely nod and as you’re about to bounce more vigorously, Mark releases your waist and raises himself upward, clutching your back and neck to lock lips fiercely with yours.

You barely can thrust against him, but you don’t need to at this point, because the kiss is simply enough to draw out his climax.

You’re pulled back to reality after a few moments, panting with your foreheads tipped against one another.

“And to counter your question from before,” Mark grins, still breathing heavily. “I’ll only stop rolling my sleeves up during practice if you stop tying your shirt up to show off your waist.”

You try to stifle a smirk, but it can’t be helped. You reply to him with a flutter of the tip of your nose against his.

“No deal, captain.”

nctsworld’s birthday week celebration!

[meguriv]

•Midnight•

❣ Denji x fem reader❣

18+

Note: This is my first fic ever, also English is not my native language. I apologize for any horrible mistakes, however I did try my best in correcting any errors. (Sorry if this is cringe ejejshwhwh)

Also if anyone reading this has any tips for writing I would really appreciate you sharing them in a comment or message!

Warnings: 18+, oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, reader is a virgin (so is Denji), blood.

Word count: 2k

It was midnight, the window was open, letting the cool air of the night into your room. You rested your head on your desk, waiting for your boyfriend.

You have been going out with Denji for only two weeks, you both really liked each other, maybe a little too much.

That’s why there was a lingering tension between the two of you, sexual tension perhaps?

He never got to sleep with a girl and you were a virgin as well. That’s why you decided to invite him home this late in the night, both of you with clear intentions in mind.

Suddenly you jumped in your seat, it seems you feel asleep-

“Hey” a familiar voice said. Looking to your left you saw Denji “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, but I saw the window open and I couldn’t resist jumping in” you smiled at that “I left it open for you”.

There was now a very uncomfortable silence, neither of you knew what to say. He took his jacket off and rested it on the window, he was still wearing part of his school uniform. No matter how many times you saw him in those clothes, you couldn’t take your eyes off his body.

You were looking at each other, he seemed to get a step closer at a time, slowly.

There was a lot of tension like usual, but he was more determined this time.

The light in the room was just perfect, a full moon and distant lights in the street made the ideal atmosphere.

You couldn’t handle it anymore, you were getting tired of the shy girl act and put your hands on his shoulders softly.

“Denji…please, touch me”. He seemed hesitant for a moment “hm” that’s all he could say, grabbing your wrists to put them around his neck, then slowly placing his hands on your waist.

You felt his lips on yours, and then his tongue, it was too much. It started to get heated and passionate very quickly.

You broke the kiss for a moment to breathe, your face felt like it might explode. Looking at him you saw his half lidded eyes on you, his lips looking for yours again.

It wasn’t the first time you kissed, in fact your first kiss with him was the way you confessed. After a few months since his first day at school as a new student, you finally had the courage to express your feelings and it appeared he liked you too, or at least he liked the fact that you liked him.

Your bodies were pressed against each other, you could feel his erection through his pants starting to grow, it made you so happy that you couldn’t help to bring your hand down, earning a soft groan from him.

“Can I…?” you said still shy but much more eager this time, “Yes” he didn’t know what you meant exactly, but when you pushed him softly to sit at the edge of your bed and got on your knees, he understood.

His cheeks grew hot, he has never had anyone suck his dick before and he didn’t expect such a thing from you either.

As you slid his pants and underwear down, his erection sprung free, making you nervous finally realizing what you have gotten yourself into. Having never done this before, your were scared to mess up but it was too late to back down now. Your brain was full of impure thoughts and no amount of anxiousness could stop you now.

You started at the tip licking it slowly, you knew you had to use your tongue properly for this, you were really just improvising. You tried to fit his entire length in your mouth little by little, using your own hand to help with the job

“A-ah so good” the way he said that made you rub your thighs together, whining softly into his cock.

He placed his hand on the back of your head, playing with your hair softly trying to bring you forward with each bob of your head. “I-I’m close please stop or I will-”

But you didn’t stop, you have dreamed of tasting him for so long all you could think about was sucking him dry with your mouth. You needed his release deep down your throat. It was a greedy pace until he started to move his hips forward reaching deeper and deeper, tears finally spilling from your eyes.

“ S-sorry I can’t stop- it feels so good, ah- so good-!” his moans were music to your ears, you wanted to let him know that the tears were from happiness rather than discomfort, but how could you? His dick was so deep inside your throat you feared you might loose your voice.

He came hard and it wouldn’t stop, it seemed like minutes past and he was still releasing thick ropes of cum, his voice cracking and cursing loudly. You didn’t let a single drop go to waste swallowing bit by bit, the action made him hard again.

After his breaths slowed down he looked down at you, face still red, he could barely process what had just happened all he knew is how turned on he was.

He then fixed his eyes on your clothed body, “Take that off”

You didn’t expect him to order you, but you didn’t complain. Getting back on your feet you took off your nightgown slowly sliding it off of you until it landed on your feet.

His eyes landed immediately on your breasts, you felt exposed but felt yourself grow wet at his gaze.

“Take that off too” he was referring to your panties. You had carefully picked out a laced pair to wear just for him but he didn’t seem to care (that’s the kind of guy he is, you thought).

You did as you were told, however Denji was getting impatient and decided to grab your waist and pull you on the bed.

“Too slow”. Both his hands rested on your breasts, starting to squeeze them.

Denji was feeling overwhelmed by all of this, he did prepare himself mentally before coming to your house this late at night, but when he had you pinned underneath him completely naked and vulnerable, he started to shake a bit, both from anxiousness and excitement.

“It’s okay Denji, you can do whatever you want…please make me feel good” you said sighing at the soft touch of his hands on your breasts, he realised how sensitive you were there.

After you said that, all of his worries faded away. The only thing on his mind right know was fucking you good. He quickly took his shirt off, almost ripping it open, you laughed a little at how eager he was.

He started to kiss you again this time pushing his tongue inside your mouth with no mercy, his hand travelled south, feeling how wet you were already, he inserted a finger making you gasp.

The felling of one of his fingers alone was already too much for you. Your soft moans making him go crazy, he decided to insert a second finger.

His moves were rather clumsy but at the same time it was driving you insane. Just like you earlier, he was just improvising.

“Deeenjii aah I’m going to cum don’t stop aah~” you almost cried,

“Yea? cum for me then, that’s it” his hand moved faster finally hitting that sweet spot inside of you.

He felt you coming as you were tightening around his fingers, making a mess of his hand. While you were recovering from your high he pulled out and started to separate his fingers, looking at your arousal splitting in strings. His tongue went out to lick at them, humming at the taste,

“hmm~ It’s good, here have some too” he brought his hand to your mouth, you grabbed his wrist an started to slowly lick at his fingers until they were clean.

He caught your mouth into his again, you two shared another messy kiss. It felt a little dirty but so good at the same time.

He couldn’t get enough of you, so he started to grind his hard cock against your inner thigh.

He started to lick your neck making you moan again, another sensitive spot he found. Suddenly he bit hard on your skin, enough to draw blood-

“AH! Denji! It hurts!! What are you-?” He was drinking the blood that spilled from your neck, you wanted to stop him as you started to get scared but the pain faded away replacing it by pleasure.

“I needed this, your blood I need it…” you didn’t understand what he meant but to be honest you didn’t care anymore, after all, you did say he could do whatever he wanted with you.

Licking the trail of blood from your neck, he stopped at your breasts, admiring them once again, this time sucking harshly at your nipples, more whines filled the room.

He switched his attention from one breast to the other, taking his sweet time there while he guided his cock with his free hand to your cunt, rubbing at the entrance.

He was teasing but both of you were enjoying it, no need to rush things, after all this is your first time.

Denji was now looking at you as he kept moving his erection up and down your wet folds. The stare was intense, you saw him smile softly with half closed eyes, you returned the smile

“I’ll put it in now okay?” he said closer to your ear this time, “please don’t hold back” you said as you felt like your heart was going to burst.

He indeed didn’t hold back, seeing how wet you were he pushed himself inside of you in one go, holding one of your legs up for easier access. You both moaned at the new feelings, minds getting clouded with pure lust.

Without warning he started to move, none of you holding back any sounds, if someone walked outside the house they would definitely hear everything.

It felt so good, Denji is a natural you thought, sure you didn’t have anyone to compare him to, but the way he moved fast and hard inside of you made your vision blurry.

“So good, you feel so good inside of me, aah~ right there!” you finished the sentence with a sob, it was so good you could cry.

All Denji managed to do was moan, he was trying to say something but he seemed to struggle, you were so tight around him it made him go stupid “Aaah~ hm S-say my, my name, say it” is all you could understand.

“Denji” you complied

“Again” he said

“Deenji~”

“Again” he hit your g-spot this time

“Denji!!” you screamed,

“Say it again!”

“Denji! Ahh! I’m going to cum! yesyesyes right there don’t stop!” He brought his forehead to yours, sweat dripping from both of you. He started cursing you could tell he was close too.

Your hand grabbed at his blond locks pulling his head back a little, and then you came, your walls clenching around him which made him spill his seed deep inside you.

Both of you were riding out your orgasm as much as possible, hips still moving slowly.

He didn’t pull out, your legs were still wrapped around his waist.

He was looking into your eyes yet again, the tiredness becoming clear. He dropped himself onto you, head rested on your chest, where he liked to be the most.

A noticeable silence filled the room. Both of you about to fall asleep to the soft sound of your breathing.

Who would have thought that you would end up with him like this, after falling in love with him practically the same day you met him.

I really am in love with him, you thought to yourself, and with that you drifted into a deep sleep only hoping that he felt the same way.

If only you knew that you made his dream come true…

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 4

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: mentions sexual experiences of reader before she was of age, discussion about sex lives, flirting, touching 

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous →Part 3

Next →Part 5

Head resting in your hand and elbow resting on the counter, you huffed, still not used to the heat that accumulated in the store throughout the day and praying for just one customer to walk through the door so you could experience a refreshing blast of evening air. You supposed you could go outside yourself to cool off a little, like Keishin had previously suggested in lieu of sticking your head in one of the fridges, but being the only person at the store currently, you felt a little bad about leaving the building, even if it was just to step out front.

You were still trying your best to put on a good impression for Mrs. Sakanoshita—despite the rough first impression you had made on her son—and you knew the family store was precious, so you decided to suck it up for the remainder of your shift.

Without much to do, since you had completed your chores early, you remained seated at the front counter, bored out of your mind. That was, until your prayers were answered and you heard the front doors slide open.

“Hello!” you greeted happily, ready to welcome a customer. Your radiant excitement faded when you noticed it was just Keishin, however, and went back to slumping on the counter. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Wow, those rapid mood changes must be why we’ve been so busy lately,” Keishin shot back at you, a cigarette hanging from his mouth like usual. “Will the girl behind the counter smile or frown at you? Maybe it’ll be both. Oh, how exciting!”

“Can it, dye job,” you grumbled.

Keishin feigned hurt, his hand resting over his chest dramatically as he pretended to have been shot. “Words hurt, you know. You’ve hurt me.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you told him, lazily gesturing around the empty store. “What does matter is that we’ve been dead for hours and I’m bored.”

Keishin poked his bottom lip out and faked a pout. “Awh, poor baby. Is getting paid to sit there and do nothing hard work? You must be exhausted. Poor thing.”

“I don’t get paid nearly enough to put up with you.” You reached across the counter to lightly smack his shoulder but he jumped out of the way just in time. “Seriously though, stay and entertain me for a while.”

“If you’re that bored, why don’t you dust the vents or something?”

You laid your head down on the counter and exhaled slowly for effect. “You know I aim to please but that sounds like hell. Can’t you just talk to me for like ten minutes? Tell me about your day or something.”

Keishin threw his head back and groaned loudly. “But I’m too hungry to think about anything other than food right now.”

“I’m hungry too but you don’t see me complaining about it.”

“No, you’re just complaining about everything else.” He leaned against the other side of the counter, his tongue flicking against the tip of his cigarette as he thought. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea.”

You glanced up at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I doubt it but proceed.”

Done with your constant back talk, which was extremely common between the two of you ever since you had worked out your differences and agreed to the deal he had suggested, he took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly into your face. “Just shut up and listen, will you?”

You coughed when you accidentally inhaled the second-hand smoke. “If I get cancer and die, I’m haunting you.”

“Go ahead.” He didn’t pay any attention to the words leaving your mouth as he headed into the back room and shut off the store lights. Then, with his own set of keys in hand, he headed back toward the front of the store. “Come on.” He looked back at you expectantly when you didn’t immediately follow.

Confused, you slowly stepped around from the back of the counter. “Where are we going?”

“We’re closing up early and going to get something to eat.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, half of you wondering if this was some sort of employee test to see how responsible you were. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“I am, you aren’t,” Keishin said, beckoning you over to him. “But let’s just keep this between you and I, yeah? What my mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Besides, it’s slow anyway.”

Taking off your white apron and grabbing your things, you reluctantly followed the older man out of the store and watched as he locked up behind the two of you. Anxiously, you shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Are you sure I won’t get in trouble for this?”

“I promise I won’t tell on you,” Keishin assured you as he stuffed the keys back into his pocket and dropped his cigarette bud to the ground before crushing it with his foot. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

Falling into pace beside Keishin as the two of you set off down the sidewalk, you following his lead, you weren’t sure exactly sure what to say or even if you should say something. Never before had you and Keishin existed outside of the store together and it felt a little awkward. 

“So . . . is this like a date or something?” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. What you had meant to come across as a casual inquiry ended up sounding more like a desperate girl clarifying what she meant to the boy she liked. You sounded like a child.

The corners of Keishin’s mouth curled upward and he shrugged. “Call it whatever you want.” He really didn’t seem to care one way or another. “Although, I’d be a horrible boyfriend if I didn’t take you out at least once . . . fake or not.”

You nearly choked on your spit at the use of the word ‘boyfriend’. Even though you had been pretending to date him for the purposes of changing your parents’ ideals for the past few weeks, you were still caught off guard every time Keishin referred to himself as your boyfriend—even though he was usually doing it to mock you. 

“Yeah, just awful,” you agreed halfheartedly. “Where are we going anyway?”

“This little place that I like,” he said, his answer extremely vague until he continued. “Best ramen I’ve ever had.”

After a few more minutes of walking, the two of you arrived at the place Keishin was talking about and he ordered two take-out bowls and paid for them both, insisting that you should try his regular order since you had never been there before. Not wanting to disagree because he was footing the bill, you let him do what he wanted and tailed him out to a picnic table outside like an obedient puppy. 

“It’s much too hot to eat inside,” Keishin reasoned as he plopped down on the opposite side of the picnic table from you. “Plus, it’s nice outside. Might as well enjoy the weather while it lasts, right?”

“Right.” You nodded.

While Keishin dug right into his meal, you sat still, hands in your lap, and watched him. One thing you had quickly come to realize was that Keishin was the perfect specimen for people watching, and not just because he was relatively easy on the eyes. He was an interesting person; for example, how he tucked half-smoked cigarettes behind his ear to smoke later or how he always wore a headband to keep his hair out of his face but vehemently refused to just cut his damn hair. 

Even though you bugged him about cutting his hair all the time, you secretly hoped he would continue to stand his ground and refuse because you wanted to see what he looked like with his hair down. You also wanted to run your hands through his hair—it looked soft and fluffy—but that was besides the point.

“Hey, it’s gonna get cold,” Keishin snapped you out of your thoughts, his mouth half full of ramen as he jabbed his chopsticks in your direction. “Don’t tell me you don’t like ramen. You should have said something before I ordered for both of us.”

Snapping out of your daze, you picked up your chopsticks and shook your head. “No, I like ramen.” You took a bite to prove your point. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”

Keishin waited for you to eat a little more before digging for your consensus. “Good, right?”

“Yeah, really good,” you agreed. “I always walk past this place but I’ve never gone inside.”

“I was the same way. It doesn’t really catch your eye, so unless you’re looking for it, it’s easy to miss,” he said. “Then one day my grandpa took me here for my birthday and I’ve been coming ever since.”

You snickered. “Popular date spot then?”

Keishin cocked a brow. “What?”

“I mean, if you come here a lot, I’m sure it’s a go-to for dates,” you continued. “It even comes with a wholesome story about how your grandpa introduced you to it. Ultimate chick magnet.”

Keishin just rolled his eyes at you. “You know, contrary to popular belief, most girls don’t like it when you take them out to eat cheap ramen on a picnic table that’s falling apart.”

You chuckled. “I wasn’t going to say anything about the table, but I’m pretty sure I have at least ten splinters in my ass by now.”

“Yeah, this thing is torture. So eat fast and then we’ll move to the park across the street or something.”

Shoveling the rest of your food into your mouth, you ate fast while Keishin stared you down, every second that passed introducing your butt to a new world of pain. As soon as you were done, Keishin took both of your take-out bowls and tossed them into a nearby trashcan.

“Well, sucks for all those other girls then, because that ramen really is amazing,” you said when Keishin returned, the two of you crossing the street and heading into the park. 

“Told you.” Keishin smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Once in the park, which was empty considering it was dark out and most kids were in bed by then, the two of you picked a nearby bench that wasn’t splintering and took a seat. 

Drawing your knees up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around your legs and sighed. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He let his head fall back and looked up at the night sky. “Damn, I could really go for an ice cold beer right now.”

“Well, we could start heading back now if you want,” you suggested. “The beers at the store are extra chilly since I didn’t stick my head in the fridges to cool off today, despite how sweltering it was.”

Keishin laughed. “Well, thank you for that,” he drew in a deep breath and relaxed into the bench, deciding whether to get up or not. “Let’s stay here for a while longer though.”

“Okay.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you stared up at the sky and listened to the sounds of Miyagi in the evening. You tried to remember the last time you had gone out like this—just going wherever you wanted and doing whatever you wanted. You couldn’t recall the last time . . . or even if there was a last time.

Tilting your head to look at Keishin, you smiled at the sight of him sitting with his eyes closed, arms crossed behind his head and head lolled back. He looked happy, almost as peaceful as he did when he was sleeping.

“Hey,” you whispered.

Keishin cracked an eye open to look at you. “Hmm?”

“Thanks for tonight.” You breathed in the scent of the night air and a feeling of content washed over you. “As you’ve probably already figured out, I don’t really have any friends. I don’t get to go out like this very often . . . or ever, really.”

“You don’t need to thank me. It’s what boyfriends are for, right?”

You giggled. “Well, considering you’re not my real boyfriend, I think a ‘thank you’ is in order.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” he caved. “Speaking of fake boyfriends, how’s it going with your parents?”

You let out a frustrated moan. “Oh, about as well as expected. When I mentioned I was seeing someone they bombarded me with a million questions, none of which were answered to their satisfaction.”

Keishin cringed. “So I’m that bad, huh?”

You scoffed. “If you think that’s bad, you should have seen their faces when I showed them a photo of you.”

Keishin let out a laugh. “Don’t tell me they weren’t fans of the piercings?”

“Oh, they weren’t fans of anything,” you said. “I think the only positive thing they could say about you was that you had a pulse . . . no offense.”

“Eh, no worries. At least they didn’t call me a burnout . . . then I would have started crying.”

“Hey!” You smacked at his shoulder again, managing to hit your target this time. “I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t pay for my therapy.”

“Yeah, well, if you need therapy I doubt I’m the biggest reason.”

“You really are so cruel to me. Do your parents know you facilitate abusive relationships?”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. “That insinuates I’ve had past relationships, or any real ones.”

Keishin craned his neck to look at you, eyes wide. “Wait, you’ve never been in a relationship before? Like never?”

“Nope. I don’t even have any friends, so what makes you think anyone wants to date the boring girl with the crazy parents?”

Keishin looked at you like you were some wounded animal he had just found on the side of the road. You could see in his eyes he was slowly coming to terms with just how isolating your life was. You could tell he felt bad, but the last thing you wanted was his sympathy.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” you told him. “I’m not completely pathetic, okay? I still went through my experimental phase like most teenagers do. I just had to be very sneaky about it.”

“Sneaky?”

“You know, back of a car, other people’s houses when their parents were gone. As far as my parents know, I’m untainted . . . a precious, naive virgin. I’m just not very experienced.”

“I can imagine.” Keishin was a little thrown by the direction the conversation had taken, but you were both adults and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little curious, so he just rolled with it. “High school boys aren’t exactly known for being great in bed.”

The two of you let out a shared laugh at that. “You got that right,” you agreed. 

“So, wait, no relationships but you’ve had sex? So you’ve never been with someone you have a genuine connection with?”

You eyed Keishin, perplexed by the sudden sincerity in his words. “You didn’t peg me as someone who cares about that kind of stuff.”

“I mean, I’ve had my fair share of one night stands, sure, but I’m not completely heartless,” he said, the eye contact he was using while he spoke sending a chill down your spine. “It’s completely different when it’s someone you care about. The experience is something everyone should have at least once in their lives.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a genuine connection with anyone before,” you confessed, unsure why you were spilling some of your deepest secrets in public, on a park bench, to a man you had only known for a couple of months. “It’s kind of hard when everyone is held at an arm’s length away.”

Without warning, Keishin shifted closer to you and placed his hand on your face, the pad of his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip. “I . . . I don’t know what to say,” he breathed.

“It’s not sad, not for me at least. You can’t miss something you’ve never had,” you spoke softly, worried you might scare him away if your voice was too loud or if you made any sudden movements. “No best friends, no boyfriends. Just me, my parents, and everyone else.”

Keishin looked like he wanted to say something; in fact, he looked like he wanted to say a lot of things, but despite this, he remained silent. Maybe he was worried about offending you, or maybe he was finally understanding just how different you were from other people. Maybe he didn’t like different. 

“But now there’s you.” You flashed a small smile, hoping to draw him out of whatever mess was going on inside of his head. “I’ve never met someone like you before.”

“Someone like me?” he finally spoke.

You nodded as you placed your hand over the one he was resting on your cheek and held it. “I’m not your responsibility and yet you’re going out of your way to help me. Not to mention I don’t even deserve your help. You are the first truly selflessly kind person I’ve ever met. Thank you.”

“What if I’m not as kind as you think I am?” His hands found their way to your waist and he pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him. “What will you do then?”

“That depends on what you’re planning on doing.”

Hands running up your sides, Keishin dug his finger tips into your skin as you lowered your head toward his, mouths inches apart. “What if I took you home, laid you down, and took care of you like a boyfriend should?” You could feel his hot breath on your face as he spoke. “What if I took advantage of your lack of experience?”

“I would say thank you,” you said, inching closer. Before your lips met, however, you stopped yourself. “But I promised not to fall in love, and I think it would be awfully hard to keep my promise if you did that.” With that, you planted your hands on his shoulders and pushed yourself away from him before he could make a decision he would later regret. 

Standing up, you collected yourself and drew in a deep breath. As soon as you had detached yourself from Keishin, you could see the fog that had been clouding his judgement dissipating as he came back to his senses. 

“I should probably head home now.” You decided, not wanting to ruin the first actual friendship you had by doing something stupid and selfish. 

“Yeah.” Keishin nodded, slowly standing up as well. It was clear he was slightly embarrassed by his actions, but you also noticed the glint in his eyes that gave away the part of him that still wanted to take you home with him. 

Trying to immediately leave what had just happened in the past, you smiled and turned to start heading home, opting to take the longer way so you wouldn’t have to take the same route as Keishin. “Good night, Keishin.”

“Good night, Y/N.” You heard him call after you, but you didn’t look back at him. Instead, you kept walking, hoping the time apart would serve as a reset on your relationship and put things back to how they had been before that night.

A few weeks ago, you would have jumped at the chance Keishin had dangled in front of your face just now. But since then, you had realized he was more important to you than someone you could just throw away with a one night stand. And since there was no way the two of you could actually be together, this was the only option if you didn’t want to lose him.

If only someone had warned you that genuine connections were this complicated. 

[cal-puddies]

Peace // Ashton Irwin

Sometimes Crys and I don't sleep and we come up with harebrained ideas. She said she's been wanting me to write another Ash piece for awhile and I kinda just stopped because she covers the Ash space now and I like how banter-y she makes him. So anyway, the idea got tossed around for a few minutes and it took me maybe a day to write this. I hope you all enjoy.

Shouts to my Otter for making the graphic, as always! @kindahoping4forever!!!

Warnings: sleepy, soft, boyf ash fresh from tour sex.

Word Count: 1655

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist

Let us  know  what  you  think!

Ash watches you sleep. He’s happy to be home with you, happy you moved in right before he left.

He’s tired, but the change from sleeping on the bus to sleeping in his bed usually was a little rough for him. And then also adjusting to having you in bed too… well, it led to a restless night and a 4 am wake up.

He gently swipes the hair off your face. He likes you here, even if he knows it’s something he’ll have to adjust to every time he leaves or comes home.

He can’t help himself, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. He instantly feels bad as your eyes start to flutter, he thinks you’ll fully wake up and pull away from his body, and he likes you so close.

He watches your eyes focus and find him, you don’t pull away. “Hey you.” You murmur.

He cups your cheek, “Sorry I woke you.”

You frown, “s’fine baby. I’d rather be up with you than you up by yourself.” You think for a minute, taking in the lack of sun streaming into the room, “can’t sleep?”

“Yeah, it’s normal when I get back from tour. Couple days to a couple weeks typically.” He sighs, moving his hand to your waist. “I like you here though.” He flashes a quick smile.

“Yeah… it’s not the worst place I could be.” You agree. “It’s not the couch in the studio.”

“What’re you talking about? That couch is amazing. Everyone…”

“No one likes that couch!” You laugh, cutting him off.

“Cal likes that couch!” He laughs.

“Of course your boyfriend does…” you giggle. You quickly stop yourself knowing it’s super early, and Matt is home. “Are you tired? Or not really?”

“I’m exhausted but my body is just not used to this.” He admits. His hand caresses over your body in a gentle way, he’s not meaning it to be sexual, mostly just wants to re-familiarize himself with your skin and curves. He knows it all like the back of his hand when he’s home, and it’s safe to say he misses it when he’s on the road. He misses you.

“Well…” you think for a minute, “it’s dark in here, we’re in bed, no phone use. Pretty optimal sleeping temp for you…”

“I know… it’s perfect for sleeping.” He nods, “you did great… and you naked next to me… definitely a plus.” He leans in for a kiss and you tangle your fingers in his hair. His hand gently trails down your side, “think I have an idea…” he murmurs, pulling your thigh up on his hip and moving you both to being on your sides, facing each other.

“Oh…” you grin against his lips. “You woke me up for this.” You adjust your leg, pulling yourself closer to him.

“No no no.” He chuckles, “it just came to me and I figured you’d want to help me out.”

“Well I can be persuaded. And I know you need the sleep.” You pout.

“So gracious, love.” He murmurs, pressing his lips to yours. He deepens the kiss and his hands explore more of your body, rubbing on your thighs, carefully palming your breasts, tweaking your nipples. He kneads your ass a bit, and then adjusts his hard cock so it’s  splitting your lips. He gently moves his hips, sliding between your lips, against your clit.

Your breath hitches, it’s been too long since you had him, you wanna feel him fill you so bad but you don’t want to rush it. You love the reintroduction sessions you get to have with him. And he seems set on taking his time with the touching and teasing.

His lips move to your neck, a quiet moan of “Ash,” spills out of your mouth. He continues moving his lips down, replacing his cock with his fingers, rubbing circles on your clit while his lips and tongue pay attention to your nipples.

“Getting so wet for me.” He murmurs, pressing wet kisses between your breasts and back up to your neck.

You press your lips to his forehead, “please.” You hum.

He kisses back down, you watch him mouth your tits, enveloping one of your nipples between his lips, sucking and teasing with his tongue. He pulls his fingers from your clit and gently pushes his two middle fingers into you. You shudder and he switches his mouth to your other breast. You look down and push his dark curls off his forehead and he looks up at you. He grins at you, quickly going back to work.

You thread your fingers in his hair and grip, tugging, biting into your lip to keep from making too much noise. You pull on his hair to pull him up, and you moan into his mouth the second it’s on yours. “Please Ash, need you… need your heavy cock.” You whimper against his ear.

He withdraws his fingers and grabs your jaw, he turns your head to the side, “I can feel how much you need me… need you too, need you wrapped around me.” He let’s go of your jaw and pushes the two wet fingers between your lips. You diligently clean them and smile into the kiss you get when he pulls them out. “You ready love?” He asks, rubbing your thigh, you nod at him, “me too.” He agrees, a soft smile crossing his face.

He resituates you both on your sides, facing each other, you rest your bent leg on his hip and he guides his tip in, he watches you gasp, and decides to let you adjust for a minute. He pulls your body closer, pushing himself further in, and then he settles. You press your face into his chest, “missed you.” You murmur.

“Missed you too.” He says into the top of your head.

You hold him close as he starts to slowly work his hips. He gets a steady rhythm and you look up for a kiss. He notices that you aren’t making a lot of noise, and even the slight noise you make against his mouth is less than anticipated, even if you are trying to be quiet.

Ash makes a split second decision. He quickly pulls out and turns you, pushing you on to your back against the mattress, he pulls your leg over his hip and guides himself in, and then moves his top leg between yours, giving him good leverage and full access to your body. Your head immediately goes back against the pillows and your jaw drops. “Oh god… that angle.” You moan, much louder than you mean to.

“There it is… missed that.” He grins, kissing you. He keeps his pace slow, drawing whimpers and moans from you, he spends time lavishing his tongue over your nipples, enjoying every sound you make for him. “Feel good?” He presses his lips to yours.

“So good… holy fuck.” You nod. “Baby… what if… faster? If the goal is to get you sleepy?” You ask around shallow breaths.

“Can you stay quiet? Don’t wanna wake Matt up.” He asks, pressing his lips to yours. You mumble a ‘yes’, and he starts to move his hips faster, works himself deeper.

You immediately have to pull him in to keep you muffled, mouth either pressed to his or into his skin, nails digging at the star tattoo. Ash is loving it, how tightly you cling to him.

Ash groans in your ear, “fuck baby… missed you like this.” His hot breath coats your neck as he pants. “Open and all for me.”

You’re straining to keep quiet, trying hard to not be any louder than the sound of skin on skin, his hot breath on your neck, his grunts in your ear to egg you on.

He relents only when he thinks you might actually scratch his tattoo clear off. He slows his pace, taking deep and long strokes. “Oh god… just like that.” You pant. He keeps it up until your soft whines indicate you’re about to cum and he pulls out completely. “Ash! Please.” You cry out.

“I know love.” He murmurs. Trying to soothe you. He quickly moves you again, he sits up against the headboard and he pulls you on top of him, chest to chest. “Want you right here.” He holds your face between both hands and gives you the softest kiss, shifting the mood. Ash’s hands and lips worship your body, touching every inch of you while guiding you in a slow rhythm on his cock.

You pull him into a desperate kiss, “baby… I’m gonna…” you whine quietly.

“I’m right there too, love. Cum for me.” He encourages.

You rest your head against his shoulder, “feels so good.” You start sucking at his skin and he feels you squeeze around him. He pushes his hands against your upper back, pulling you against him. He feels you shudder as the orgasm works through your body, and he starts cumming, pumping you full. He keeps a tight grip on you and quickly moves you to your back, him on top of you.

He gives you a couple shallow thrusts before pulling out. He presses a couple soft kisses along your collarbone, pushing himself up, he lands on his back next to you and he does his best to hold in a yawn while you watch him. “I’d like to go on record and say that was anything but boring.” You whisper.

“You are absolutely correct. Not at all boring, but exactly what I needed to wear me out.” He rolls on this side and trails his fingers over your body. He reaches over you to grab for the shirt you took off before crawling in bed, he quickly cleans you up and then you're both resituated under the blanket with Ash’s head on your chest. He barely whispers “love you,” before falling asleep.

You gently rub your hands over his shoulders, “love you. Glad you’re home.”

[canonobsessions]

Hey there and welcome to tumblr!! i’m a huge simp for Julian lol im so happy to see somebody writing for TPB! <3 i was wondering if you could write something involving Julian and a cudding -> confession -> sex sort of situation with a female reader?

a/n: I'm so sorry for this late response! I'd be so happy to!

Fandom: Trailer Park Boys

Word Count: 4,243

Scenario: Julian and Reader have an impromptu cuddling session that results in a confession and subsequently, a steamy encounter.

Julian didn't know how it got to this point, but he wasn't about to complain. Sometimes everything just fell into place, so when you arrived that night at his trailer on a cold, dark winter's night he rolled with it. It was just a mishap, your car breaking down before you were able to get home. Like many people, you came to him with your problem.

Unlike with some other people, Julian was happy to help you out. He didn't hesitate when he stepped aside and let you track slushy snow into his home. It didn't even cross his mind until he was stepping in it himself. Even then, it only made him more aware of your state of dress.

You definitely hadn't intended to be out long, with your short sleeves on and little to no protective clothing. You looked frigid and he had just the remedy for it.

So, you wound up on his couch, wrapped up and sharing a blanket with him while watching some schlocky action film. Nothing he was actually paying attention too. How could he be with you in the room, taking a small sip of his Rum and Coke with that pretty smile on your face.

It was almost like a dream.

"Julian, I really can't thank you enough again. I'm sorry to just drop in on you like this," He'd just gotten ready to go to bed when you'd arrived, but even then, it wasn't any kind of a bother with you around. But, he had to play it cool as he always did.

"It's no trouble, [Y/N]. Stop worrying about it," He reassured you for the fifth time, taking the moment to wrap his arm around your shoulder and squeeze reassuringly. "You couldn't help it, probably the cold messing with your car. I'll get some of the guys to help get it fixed in the morning,"

And there was that damn smile that roped him in from the moment he'd met you. At first he'd just thought he was drunk, but he'd come to learn you were as capable and friendly as you were pretty. You were one of the few people who came around the Trailer Park and helped him and his friends out on occasion.

The situation had gotten twisted up to where it almost seemed awkward to pursue you with how close you'd gotten to Bubbles and Ricky as well. That being said, he was also always in a relationship when you weren't. Nothing really ever seemed right until now.

Now. He had to find the courage to say it, but there was that pitch of anxiety in his stomach, the one he thought he could stamp out in almost any occasion, but you were special. He didn't want to mess this up.

"You're really too good to me, Jules," A damn shiver nearly crawled up his spine when you said that. That and the way you were shaking just sent a small thrill through him.

Were you still cold or were you nervous to have his arm around you? With the way you leaned into him further, it couldn't have just been nerves. You did still feel chilly, so he gently rubbed your upper arm. He wasn't just feeling your soft skin under his rough finger tips. This was just part of helping you.

Man was that stupid, he was acting like he hadn't had his fair share of pretty girls over. But, you were more than pretty, you were beautiful. Classy and sweet.

"Just doing what any good friend would," The word friend had a near sour note to it, not from leaving his mouth, but it just rang oddly. He wasn't malicious about it. It just wasn't right.

"Yeah, right!" There was an awkward inflection in your tone, but he wasn't going to push it. You were probably just more comfortable with being friends after all.

"Damn, my feet are still freezing," You'd complain quietly after a brief silence and Julian reacts without thinking about it.

"C'mere," He reached down to your ankle and grabbed it, gently coaxing your feet up onto the couch. You adjusted to the hold folding your legs off to the side. Your [E/C] eyes are filled with curiosity. He offered a smile before drawing your feet into his stomach, where he was more than warm enough to help bring you up to temp.

"When I was a kid, my grandmother would do this for me when I'd come inside after playing in the snow," He recalled the late nights he spent watching old movies with his grandmother, eating snacks and keeping warm and cuddled up together. Of course, she'd been plenty warmed up from the brandy she'd consumed time and time again.

That sweet smile of yours was back once again, but accompanying it was a pretty blush that colored your face perfectly. He couldn't help his mind when it wandered to a less wholesome thought. What would you look like, red and panting under him? What were other ways you of all people could let him warm you up?

"That's really sweet. She must have been one hell of a lady to raise someone as gentlemanly as you, Jules," You might have been somewhat teasing, but he felt warm from the compliment. She had been as good of a role-model as she could be, doing everything she could for not only him, but for Bubbles as well.

"Thanks, [Y/N]," He patted your blanket covered calf with his hand and left it there for a moment, idly tracing his thumb over your muscle in a soothing manner.

Things got quiet again as you both sat there, watching the screen with little interest in what was going on. Julian was far more focused on how good it felt to have you curled against him and to feel your legs move. You were warming up and you were tantalizingly soft. It was driving him crazy, but he was being good.

You didn't drink much of his Rum and Coke, but you did have a sip or two, just to stave off any lingering cold.

"Julian, can I ask you something?" You'd knocked him out of his thoughts with that soft inquiry. He looked at you and felt his stomach flip, seeing your uncertain look.

"Anything," It was one small word, but he put a lot of feeling behind it. It sat heavy between the two of you for a heart-beat. Time really seemed to slow as he felt the way you were starting to shake again. The way you bit your lip and fluttered your lashes, looking at him with those eyes. It really felt like you told him everything he needed to know through body language alone.

Julian leaned in, his dark eyes searching yours for a solid answer, something more than just the way your body was calling out for him.

"Do you like me, just as a friend?" He wanted to kiss the uncertainty right out of your mouth and swallow it. How could someone as beautiful and amazing as you be so unsure of what you did to him?

"More than that," His words came out softer, rougher as he tried to reign himself in. "Does that make you uncomfortable?" He didn't want to scare you. You didn't have a ride home, it was too cold to walk off. He didn't want to misread what was going on. He was playing it safe.

"No!" It was like you were yelping, like he’d hit you in the stomach with that simple question. It gave away how eager you were and Julian couldn’t help but chuckle when you clasped your dainty hand over your mouth. “No, I’m sorry. You could never make me uncomfortable. Well, not like that,” The words fell from your lips like snow from the sky. “So I do make you uncomfortable?” He was teasing you now, relishing in the fact that you’d made that first move. You’d been the one to bravely ask him just what he thought of you and it made you flustered. You weren’t uncomfortable and you didn’t feel unsafe. Good. He wouldn’t have been able to handle it otherwise. “I like you too, Julian,” Finally, you’d admit it yourself. You’d put it out there that you were interested in him and he was interested in you. It was like that last wall came tumbling down. It made you look bare and vulnerable and unsure. That just made him want to scoop you into his arms and show you just how sure he was of the situation. “So, what now,” You’d asked, looking to him for guidance. Those big, beautiful eyes drew him right in. He wasn’t going to answer you with flowery words, he was going to show you. Julian made slow moves, roping you into him with room enough to say no if you wanted to. His large palms felt right at home, gripping your thighs and tugging you to where you were seated firmly on his lap. That little gasp that left your lips only made him drag you down harder onto him, letting you feel just how much he liked you. “What do you want, [Y/N]?” He felt the way you were shaking against him, the way you tilted your pelvis to align yourself with him. As if he were a virgin again, you had him shuddering with his restraint. He palmed your thighs, rubbing them soothingly. “I-I mean, I want you, Julian, b-but not just, ah,” He couldn’t help but to rock himself up into your core when you admitted you wanted him. There was no missing that you wanted more though, so he stilled, his dark eyes searching yours again, wondering what had you hesitating. “I don’t just want to be a fling,” Of course you didn’t, he didn’t either. But, it wasn’t like he had a particularly strong history of long, stable relationships. He had more one-night stands than he did real girlfriends he’d kept in his life. How could you not see you were different than those other girls was lost on him. Both of his hands traced up from your thighs, jumping to smooth up your arms and to your neck. He savored touching you while he thought about just how deeply he wanted to reassure you. He traced a path up to your neck, where he threaded his fingers into your hair, his thumb resting on the slope of your jawline. You wouldn’t be able to look away if you tried. He met your gaze, dark brows set into a serious furrow. “Never. [Y/N], you could never be just a fling for me,” He admitted, his voice hoarse with desire and love. He didn’t want to give you a chance to respond. Gently, he pulled you into a solid, warm kiss. Your lips molded to his perfectly. Just slightly wet from how you’d licked it only moments before. He poured his passion and love for you into it, hoping to smooth out any worries that he wasn’t dead serious on how much he liked you. Julian pulled a weak moan from you when he pulled away, your lips sticking together for a split second, sending a firework of pleasure down his spine. He wanted to devour you. His big hand cradled your head as he went in for another kiss, mouth opening just slightly to mouth your lips, to trace your tongue with his own. Just the coupling, the breathy noises and moans he pulled from you were drowning out the sound of gunfire from the busted up looking television just behind you. Nothing could distract him from how perfect you felt seated on top of him. How delicious your lips were, how easily you opened up to him. How many times had he dreamt of this? Could he even count the times you’d been at the forethought of his mind when he’d jerked himself off in the shower? Now that you’d both been honest, he could make those wild

fantasies real. “Julian,” Your voice was quaking, full of lust and need that he felt hit right through him. If that wasn’t enough to tell him you needed more, the way you were grinding on his hard cock was. A near growl left the dark haired man as he greedily grasped your ass, hoisting you further onto him. He stood up with ease, the blanket covering the two of you quickly forgotten. Any previous cold having been ripped away by red-hot need. That squeal had him chuckling between your dainty kisses. He easily brought you down that narrow hall, taking just a moment to push you against the paneling to indulge in tasting you. His tongue was more than eager to tangle with your own, the sloppy noises louder still now that you were away from the TV. Back on the move, Julian kicked open his bedroom door, relishing in the way you giggled at how forceful he’d been. Instead of throwing you onto the bed, he moved all the way to it’s edge, lowering you down onto it like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held in his hands. “God, you are beautiful, [Y/N],” Julian rasped as he admired how perfect you looked on his bed, flushed and lips swollen from how excited the two of you had been to do something as simple as kiss. “Julian,” Your voice took a serious tone, your own brows ticking down as you reached up with your now warm hands, letting them rest on his face, thumb tracing along the sharply trimmed line of his beard. “Julian, you’re beautiful too, so handsome. I can’t believe you want me too,” You were gushing, about him of all people. Shaking his head, Julian took your hands into his own, placing a kiss on your knuckles. He allowed himself the chance to really look at you, just as you were. His heart filled with affection for you. For just the way you spoke to him, marveling at him. “I can’t believe an angel like you would want anything to do with a man like me,” Julian’s voice was low and dark as he leaned back in, dying for another taste of you. This time, things went further, his hands roaming eagerly while your mouths met passionately in their own special patterns. He squeezed your shoulders, massaged down your arms and to your stomach. Testing the waters, his thick fingers peaked under your flimsy shirt, stroking at the soft skin of your belly. The way your muscles flexed and you moaned made him take liberties, inching up your ribs to rub smooth, firm circles there. With your last chance squandered through a needy moan, Julian’s large hands cupped your breasts for a firm squeeze, savoring in a moment he’d imagined just a short time ago. Julian swallowed every needy noise you made as he massaged your breasts, his hips rolling down to meet your needy movements. All at once there was too much fabric in the way. You were pulling at his shirt as soon as he move away, pulling it off of his body and revealing his strong chest and shoulders. Just as excited, Julian hooked his thumbs into your shirt, pulling it up and hooking your bra with it, baring your chest to him in one smooth motion, proving just how experienced he was. God, you were a delicious sight. Your breasts heaving in the dim light of his room. Gravity knew what it was doing and it had Julian speechless. Before long, the temptation was too strong, he dove in for another kiss, smoothing over your shy features with a reassuring kiss. His lips were eager to move, leaving a damp trail of kisses down your jaw and neck. He licked at the dip of your clavicle and relished in the way you shook and gasped. Smirking up at you, dark eyes smoldering with lust, he licked a trail to your right breast, nipping at the flexible flesh he found there. Every little sensation was drawing up for the moment he took your nipple into his hot mouth, tongue lapping as he suckled. He made sure your left breast didn’t go unattended, his thick, rough fingers plucking at the pert tip, rolling the bud in between his fingers, toying with you as he enjoyed himself thoroughly. “God, Julian, your mouth is so warm,” You whimpered, egging him on, your legs curling

around his thighs, beckoning him in for more. But, yet again, there were too many clothes in the way. But, he was a practiced man, he wanted to rile you up. There was an art to getting a woman ready. He switched to the other nipple, leaving the right to tighten and harden in the cold air. Your fingers found his normally tidy black hair, mussing up the styling by tugging him closer. “P-please, stop teasing me,” You needed more, that much was obvious with how insistently you rolled up into him. He could feel just how hot and burning you were at your core, the heat between the two of you felt like it was enough to burn the clothes right from your body. Julian chuckled lowly, shaking his head as he pulled away from your breast. His eyes locked onto yours once more and he gave you a dark smirk. “No need to rush, [Y/N]. You’ll be here until your car is fixed after all,” He teased. You looked so cute when your covered your face, no doubt feeling embarrassed for your needy reaction. He took his time with you. He tasted you, licking a path down your ribs and your stomach, coming to the button of your pants. He didn’t take too long to pull off both them and your panties, revealing your glistening petals to the cool air. You groaned at the sensation and he marveled at just how beautiful you were. Thick fingers traced lazy circles into your inner thighs working their way to your core. He wasn’t ashamed as he looked at your folds, the way your clit was already swollen and eager from the bare minimum frotage. His thumbs swiped along the outer lips, pulling them apart, making way for his broad tongue as he licked a line up from your core to your clit, popping it into his mouth swiftly for a change of pace. You tasted delicious on his tongue, tart and sweet all at once. Greedily, he buried his face into your core, his tongue diving into your soft folds. The tight ring of your cunt was no match for him, the muscle pushed as deep into you as it could, the pad of his thumb taking up stroking your taut pearl in tandem with his thrusts. He listened to your moans as he worked you over, dragging more of your wetness out, preparing you for him. And when it sounded like you were just at your apex, he pulled away. “Oh god, Julian,” It was nearly scolding the way you said his name, but he wasn’t going to leave you wanting for long, deciding to instead unfasten his pants, eagerly ridding himself of his pants and underwear. He stood nude in front of you, taking his large, girthy dick into his hands, stroking it slowly at the debaucherous sight of you, of all people, spread out on his bed, all for him. “Please, I need you, I need you,” That could’ve nearly done him in there, just the way you were pleading for him. Telling him you needed him, and god did he need to be needed. The fact it was just in this way was icing on the cake. Not wasting anymore time, Julian’s hands gripped your hips, lining you up just the way he wanted you. He bent over and steadied himself, peppering your lips with kisses as he guided himself in. Already he could tell you were going to be a tight fit, there was going to be some discomfort, but not for long. It didn’t seem like you minded much, with how eagerly your heels dug into the strong muscle of his back, eager to sink him in. His swollen head pushed into you, sinking deeper with one slow push that had him groaning, his head tilting back as he savored the squeeze around his manhood. His free hand massaged lazily at your stomach as he sunk in. You let out the most tantalizing little grunts and moans, soft hisses as your body adjusted to take his massive size. “Soo big,” You whimpered. God if only you knew what you did to him with that tender little voice. He wanted to bury his cock in you forever and stay there until the day he died. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the last few inches in, steadily massaging you while holding himself back. It wasn’t until you tested the fit by rocking your hips back and forth that he finally allowed himself to take pure pleasure in your body. It wasn’t the

slow pace he’d initially wanted. No, as soon as he was in you, he realized how badly he needed this. For every smile and sweet word, he wanted to set a punishing pace. He wanted to completely fold you in half and hammer his way into your body and show just how badly he needed you. But, for the sake of your health, he set a steady pace. He leaned back to look at the place where your body met his and nearly came right there. “Fuck,” He cursed, staring at the lewd way your cunt was stretched out over his cock. “Sit up, just a bit, fuckin’ look at it,” He coaxed you into sitting up, his hand finding its way to the back of your neck again. Your eyes almost glazed over with how eagerly you looked at your coupling. Your plump, tantalizing lip was gnawed at between your pearly whites. Julian drew back his cock with a hiss, his head rolling back again, only to snap to attention, watching the show as he sunk back into your hot, silky insides. “You’re taking me so well, [Y/N]. You’re doing so good,” He grunted out praise after praise, his pace rocking steadily now, your wetness coating him and guiding him in with more ease. Finally, it seemed you couldn’t hold yourself up any longer, instead falling back to moan his name. He doubled over, catching himself again, bracing himself on either side of your head. His pace quickened, he could feel the way his balls slapped against your ass, damp from how wet you were. It made degenerate sounds, slapping skin against skin. It drove him up a wall, almost as much as your blissful expression. He burned the memory of you savoring his cock into the back of his mind, before hooking both of his hands under your knees. With his strength, Julian nearly folded you in half, angling you to where his cock would hit your deepest, most sensitive parts. When he found the place that made you sing loudest, he hammered into it. Not to be ignored, he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, freeing up a hand so that he could reach between the two of you and work diligently at your little bud. “Oh god, oh god, Jules, Julian, fuck, fuck, fuck! I-I’m gonna cum,” And he could feel it when it started, the way you arched your back, your hips taking a mind of their own, jerking up to meet his deep thrusts. Your walls clenched so tightly around him he could barely pull away, but he managed to keep his pace, drilling into you. “Fuckin’ cum around me, cum around me, [Y/N], just like that, just like that,” He grunted, thrusting so hard he was shaking the bed beneath you, the sound only adding to the symphony of sex. The rush of sticky fluids made him pound that much harder into you. Your crying, writhing form the perfect state for him to hammer at until he felt his own familiar band pulling tight, eventually snapping as pleasure overwhelmed him. He didn’t pull out as his cum filled your tight little body. He empty his balls as deep into you as he could, his pulsing manhood twitching with every stream of the load. He only realized as he began to come down from his high he’d came right against your cervix. He shuddered out another low groan, joining your soft panting in the air. “Fuck, Julian, ah, hah. I love you,” You were unabashed now, looking at him with your dazed look, as if he were a god and not some backwater trailer park boy. “I love you too, so much,” He hung over you, his sweaty forehead coming to rest against yours. He breathed with you, coming down from his high to finally ease out of you, ignoring the mess he made in favor of pulling you into his arms. The air slowly quieted as you both lay there, basking in bliss, warm and naked despite no blanket. It was hard to believe that he’d been uncertain of your feelings for him. Just an hour ago, neither of you had been aware of just how quickly things would go. But, there were no regrets. Only love and a sense of safety.

[luvluvnitrodynamite]

jealous jujutsu kaisen characters <3

ft. itadori yuuji, gojou satoru g/n!reader (sfw, with some suggestive themes in gojou)

itadori yuuji - watching itadori get jealous is a bit cute, if you're being honest. i mean, take what happened in the grocery store yesterday. ~ "yuuji, we're out of rice," you say to him, re-checking your list. "we're out of rice??? impossible. i just had some yesterday." you sigh. "be that as it may, that doesn't change the fact that we don't have it anymore. can you grab it really fast?" he pouts a bit. you're not sure if he genuinely doesn't want to leave your side or if he's just stalling to remember where the rice aisle is. regardless, you don't want to stand here all day. "yuuji, i'll give you a kiss as a reward if you get it for me." he perks up immediately, giving you a grin and a thumbs up before dashing in the opposite direction. you smile to yourself. itadori may have been an idiot, but he's your idiot. the thought warms your heart. you push your cart of the produce section and into a large selection of rows, choosing one closest to you. you seem to be in the tea aisle. oh good, you think. we've been out of tea for a couple of days now. you peruse the section, picking up some green tea. you get some chamomile as well, stacking the boxes carefully so they won't get crushed by fruits. mmm what about chai? you search the boxes, only to see it's at the very top self. you reach up, fingers just barely touching the platform it's on. you can't even brush up against the box. you try standing on tiptoes, looking a bit silly as you try to extend your body beyond its natural length. you're thinking maybe you should wait for itadori to get back when a different hand easily plucks the box off the shelf. you follow the hand to its owner, to see it belongs to a tall guy about your age. he's cute you suppose, but it's no itadori. still, you smile sweetly and charm him with a "thank you! there was no way I was going to reach that." He smiles broadly back at you. "No problem," he replies. "You like chai tea?" You want to be polite and he's nice enough, so you respond "definitely! I don't know if it's my favorite, but it's a staple in my pantry." He blushes a bit, and scratches his hand behind his neck. "Yeah, same," he says. "There's actually a really nice café that opened up a few blocks away from here. They make a mean cup of chai, and they have these delicious little cinnamon rolls that go really well with them. If you're free any time soon, do you want to try one with me?" You open your mouth to politely turn him down when you feel a protective arm wrap around your waist. You turn your head to see a pink-cheeked itadori glaring at the stranger. he does look mad, but you also think he just looks so cute. ah, the duality of man. "oh, hi yuuji! did you get the rice?," you ask him. you have priorities, after all. "yeah," he says, not moving his arm or his gaze. "who's this, love?" oh, he's really jealous if he's pulling out the love. you try to defuse the situation. "oh, this guy just helped me get some tea from the top shelf. thanks again!" you say. the guy was not expecting a wild itadori to emerge from the tall grass, and is trying to figure a way out. "no problem," he repeats. "i'll see you around, yeah?" without waiting for a response, he puts the tea in your cart and walks away. "did you know that guy?" you ask, as itadori relaxes and puts the rice in the cart. "no, but it sure looks like you did," he says, a bit annoyed. "yuuji, are you jealous?" you tease. "no! of course not!" he retorts. his cheeks are still pink though, and now he's looking around like he expecting another guy to run through and sweep you up in their arms. you decide to take mercy on him, and tug one of his hands in your own. "hey, don't i owe you a reward for getting my rice?" he perks up, and flicks his gaze almost imperceptibly towards your mouth. you sweetly press his lips to his cheek, and smile innocently when he gives you an annoyed look. you turn around to go the cart, only to see that the tea guy has returned. itadori sees him too, and he looks mad again. however, instead of confronting him, he looks at you and says,

"c'mon, i meant a real kiss." he gently places his hands on your face and pulls you in. it's a light, yet passionate kiss. the rhythm is slow and soft, but there's a definite intensity behind it. his tongue has just swiped your bottom lip, entering your mouth when you remember that you're in public. you pull away and glance at the end of the aisle. the guy is gone. you glance at itadori. he is grinning triumphantly at you. you smile in spite of yourself, going back over to the cart. "yuuji?" he comes over, wrapping his arms around you and placing his head over your shoulder. "yes, my love?" "you got the wrong kind of rice." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ gojou satoru - a jealous gojou is not a good gojou. if you think he's annoying normally, it's about to get so, so, so much worse. ~ "satoru please!" you beg. you're feeling desperate now, there's no other way out. you two have gone to the park for a picnic to savor one of his rare days off. the spot you chose was warm and sunny with few people around; the day was supposed to be lovely. and it was, at least for a while. you had spent just the last hour cloud-watching, peacefully pointing out odd shapes in the sky. really though, you were just taking an excuse to lay on his stomach and talk. you two get so little time together like this that you try to savor every moment. however, in your analysis of a banana-shaped cloud far on the horizon, you noticed a familiar shape. the shape of your ex, to be precise. you stiffen, and gojou notices. "hey," he says. "what's wrong?" you don't respond immediately; your mind is swirling with schemes to avoid them. if you guys packed up now, could you go without being noticed? no, you were too close. could you hide? no, there wasn't anywhere to duck behind. you had to stop time somehow, but how? gojou waves his hand over your face. "hey? everything ok down there? have you gone into the void?" he asks. you start to glare at him, but then his words hit you in the face. the void. he can draw your ex into the void while you make a hasty getaway. you sit up, dropping your angry look and switching to a more saccharine one. "satoru," you start. "can you do a favor for me?" he gives you an easy smile. "of course, anything for you," he replies. "great, can you trap the person in the white shirt over there into the infinite void?" that certainly gets his attention. "i'm sorry, what?" he asks incredulously. "ok, so that's my ex over there. things ended kind of...awkwardly, and I just don't want to deal with this right now. could you trap them into the void before they notice me?" "i don't think the relationship was the thing that was awkward love. maybe you should just, you know, face the problem head on?" he suggests. "it can't be that bad. and even if it is, at least it'll be entertaining. actually, i'll give you two some privacy!" he says cheerfully, and promptly leaves. that brings you to your current predicament. you could be responsible and mature, but that would involve getting over your breakup. you may have slightly understated the awkwardness of the situation. truthfully, you got dumped and you pined over your ex for weeks afterward. you especially did not take it when when you were being broken up with. you begged them not to leave you while crying, making quite the scene in the restaurant they had chosen. now, with no lingering emotions, you just feel guilty and embarrassed for how you acted. but that was in the past, and you could move past that as long as it wasn't walking up to you. and now with gojou walking away, and them walking up...oh no. oh no oh no ohnonono. you take a deep breath in, and breathe out. i'm not the same person i was then, you think to yourself. this thought steadies your nerves; in fact, maybe gojou was right. you have been wondering what they’ve been up to, after all, and you might stop feeling guilty if you apologize. a bright and cheerful “hey!!” jolts you out of your thoughts; there they are. “hey,” you respond, a bit less cheerfully. you push yourself up off the ground to

greet them, and are a bit surprised when they pull you into a hug. it’s a more intimate hug than you would have guessed, with their hands snaking around your waist and gently cradling your head. they smell...nice, you think to yourself. as you pull away, you feel watched. you’re not sure from where, since you can’t see him, but you know gojou is watching you. well, good. he refused to help you out of this mess, so maybe you’ll make him suffer a bit. neither one of you say anything for a second.. “so….i guess how are you?” they ask you, smiling. “i’m great,” you reply. “how are you?” you ask. “good.” you stand there, neither one of you wanting to interrupt the delicate silence. “so,” you both say at the same time. you guys laugh, and just like that, the weird silence dissipates. “you go first,” they say to you. “well, i just want to say that i’m sorry. i know breaking up was probably hard for you, but i think i just made it harder by, you know, being unable to let us go. that was unfair to you and it definitely made things harder for me, so i’m really sorry about that.” “oh, wow,” your ex say, a bit surprised. “well, that sort of contrasts what i’m about to say. i was going to say that you were right.” huh? what? you furrow your eyebrows together, and stare back with a bemused expression. “i was right?” you venture. “about...what?” your ex sheepishly scratches the back of their head, giving you an embarrassed smile. “about us, i mean. you kept telling me that we were better together, and that we would only be unhappy apart. i know it’s been a while since we were together, but lately it’s all i can think about. i….still think i love you.” well, that was a bombshell. you just stare at them, stunned into silence. “sorry, i know that this is way too much for just meeting again; you just looked so beautiful and it reminded me of when we were together and i just miss being together and -- ah, i’m rambling like a crazy person now, aren’t i?” they wryly ask. you giggle. “just a bit,” you respond. they take your hands into theirs, tracing their thumb lightly over your skin. their eyes are honest, and their face is hopeful. “i know this is really sudden, but would you maybe want to get dinner with me soon? you don’t have to, of course, but…?” they pull one hand out, and drift it up to your face, caressing your jawline with such care that if you were not previously engaged, you might have melted into their arms right there. but you already had a boyfriend, even if he was an annoying one. you thought briefly about pretending to accept their offer, just to needle him, but decided against it. instead, you just kindly smiled at your ex, and pull their hand from your face. “this is really sweet,” you say. “but, unfortunately, i’m already taken.” their face falls, but they quickly mask it with a smile. “ah, i get it. someone as amazing as you would get snapped up fast. it was just my mistake to let you go,” they say, pulling back. “well, why don’t we start over with this. how about instead of a romantic dinner date, we just get coffee sometime. no love attached,” they add. “sure,” you respond. “i have been wanting to know what you’ve been up to.” “same here, how about tomorrow at 11?” they ask. “it’s a date!” you joke. “now, what’s a date?” you hear a familiar, slightly pouty voice from behind you. of course. why wouldn’t gojou appear at the worst possible time. you turn to your boyfriend, who has a shit-eating grin on his face. he’s planning something, but what? “hey ‘toru, this is my ex." you face your ex. "this is my boyfriend, gojou satoru." your ex smiles at him, blissfully unaware. "nice to meet you. we were just planning on getting some coffee soon." “oh, is that so? you’re not trying to steal my love away from me, are you?” there’s no threat in his voice, no hostility, but all the same your ex seems to pick up on his vexing energy and straightens up a little bit. “no, of course not,” they say. “hmmm, i believe you. but all the same, i could have sworn i heard talk of

a date. that reminds me love, weren’t we just finishing up on a date ourselves?” you sigh. “yes, we were.” turning to your ex, you turn back to say goodbye. that, however, is cut off by your lovely boyfriend picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. shocked, you pound your fists against his back. “gojou satoru, put me down right now.” gojou ignores you, instead sticking one hand out to shake your ex’s hand. “sorry to cut this short, but we simply must finish our date back at our place. wish i could invite you, but this is a more private activity.” he cheerfully states. mortified, you start kicking him and hitting him even harder. “ ‘toru! put me down so i can dump you right here and now!” “ahh, can’t have that now. we’d best get going so that someone learns a lesson, see you around!” with that and a quick sweep down to gather the picnic supplies, gojou carries you kicking and screaming out of the park. once outside, he puts you down. “satoru, what the absolute hell was that??? that was so embarrassing!” you cry out. “it was your idea to let me deal with that, and then you swoop in once it’s all taken care of? now they’re going to think i’m...i’m... i don’t even know what they’ll think of me, but i’m sure it won’t be positive!” “shhhh,” says gojou. “you might make a scene.” if you were mad before, well, now you’re apoplectic. “a scene???? i might make a scene?” you spit out seethingly. the entire way home, you tear into him for embarrassing you in front of your ex and an entire park full of people. finally, you get home and you drop the j-word. “and all this because you were just jealous??” now that you’ve dropped the threshold of your front door and pulled the trigger, gojou’s entire demeanor shifts. he drops the picnic supplies and picks you up again, but instead of going over his shoulder you’re now up against the wall. you instinctively wrap your arms and legs around him to keep from falling, skillfully intertwining your bodies together. his blindfold has slipped off, and now his piercing blue eyes are pouring into yours with a powerful intensity. your previous angry words slip off into the void, as you’re transfixed by the way he’s staring at you. he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses just barely touching. “yeah,” he breathes. “i got jealous. i let an ex come up to you and try to take you away, and i only sat there and watched. i knew you would never cheat on me, but i just got annoyed with myself for encouraging that. you mean too much to me to just let you be taken by someone else, so i really wanted to get you out of there as fast as possible. so, yeah, i’m sorry for embarrassing you. let me make it up to you?” it’s hard to say no in this position, but you try to hold your resolve. “satoru, you just can’t do that. promise me you’ll never do that again?” he’s still looking at you with that seriousness, so he replies “yes” with uncharacteristic sincerity. there’s nothing out of character though about the way he moves in to kiss you though, full of desire and need. you fall into a steady rhythm, a sweet push-and-pull of dominance flicking between you two. gojou suddenly takes over, and just as suddenly, he pulls away and starts carrying you to the nearest flat surface. “let me show you how much you mean to me, yeah?”

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Tell Me A Story

Loki x f(magic reader)

Summary: Stuck in an Asgardian cell for your crimes, you meet an intriguing fellow prisoner who you can’t help but start to feel something for.

Warning: angst, fluff (you’re not leaving sad on my watch)

Masterlist

The ground feels hard. And your head feels incredibly fuzzy, like waking up from a deep slumber by some rude acquaintance who can’t mind their own damn business. Not to mention the throbbing sensation emitting from the left side of your cheek like two annoying disturbances. Were you smacked twice?

What in the bloody shitsticks?

The light in this place is so bright too, you have to squint when opening your irises for the first time to really get a good look at your surroundings. With the light in this awful place too much to bear, you cover your eyes with your fingers to lessen the harshness from above. Soon your gaze trails up witnessed a clean ceiling of pure marble white.

Wait. Are you dead?

Adjusting to the brightness, you slowly bring yourself into a seated position on the equally as shiny clean floor. To your left is a bed and a small nightstand while your right is a see through golden tinged barrier showing the other cells and a single guard walking down the hallway. Cells? Cells!

A prison? You’re in a fucking prison. Shit.

Letting out a dramatic sigh, head in your hands, you suddenly hear a knock on the white section of the confinement hold that turns into loud pounding. Thud! Thud! Thud! And a second later the white disappears, in place shows the same see through golden tinge. A guard on the other side.

“You’re awake.” He says, voice casual as an old friend.

You give him a puzzled look before feeling your face, “I think so.”

He takes a step into your prison where a sword is held in your face, maybe not so much an old friend after all, “As protocol, I must ask you three questions.” Delves the guard, stance never changing.

“Go for it tough guy.”

He remains unfazed, “Do you know your name?” Easy.

“Y/N.”

“Do you know why you’re here?” Uh.

“Well it wasn’t for stealing a child’s favorite toy.” You muse before quickly changing your façade, “But yes.”

He scoffs unamused, “Do you know where you are?”

Now this question you don’t have an answer for so instead do you give him your sweetest most innocent face possible, “uh, maybe you could enlighten me?”

The armored man rolls his dark eyes, “You’re in the royal dungeons of Asgard, placed here by King Odin for crimes against our realm. For that. You will remain until otherwise noted by the King.” Barks the guard, you stare up at him with wide eyes. Shocked and bewildered that you’re stuck in Asgard of all places.

“I didn’t even have a fare trial!” You protest.

“You didn’t deserve one, filth.” He counters before sheathing his sword back into its scabbard and off he goes into the golden tinged door. Out of sight in an instant. Rude.

Leaving yourself very puzzled and irritated at the whole ordeal, you never even got a trial to speak your side of the story. Nothing. Now you’re stuck in this dumb shit of a cell with literally nothing to do and no one around to bother, oh wait who’s that across the room?

Jumping to your feet, you swiftly walk over to the glass; there stands a man in green and black attire, leather bound book in hand as his slender face focuses onto the pages. He’s rather handsome in all honesty, with that dark shoulder length hair of his and the thoughtful expression across his face. You’re now fully intrigued.

Then your mind swirls with a thought, you’re in Asgard. So, this must be prince Loki, the one who failed to conquer Midgard. Soon a devilish smirk crosses your features, “What are you doing down here? I thought princes were the ones to put delinquents behind bars?”

Loki’s face shifts from surprise to amusement as he keeps his eyes onto the pages, “Kings.” Corrects the Asgardian prince.

You smile, “Well this king can eat shit!”

He lets out a breathy snort before finally drawing his gaze up to you, his expression quickly diminishes from amusement into star struck fascination when those beautiful blues land upon your beaming mischievous face. Loki has never seen someone so magnificently enticing in his whole entire life. But here you are, whoever you happen to be.

The raven haired man sets the book onto his nightstand before sauntering over to the glass wall, “And who do I presume you are? My new source of entertainment.”

Waving him off like a blushing maiden, you pretend to get all hot and bothered by his sly comment, “Oh wouldn’t you like to know.”

Loki smirks, “I would indeed.”

You curl a piece of hair around your finger, gifting him a shy smile as you avoid his steely gaze. “Sorry.” You mutter, “I only tell men who can take over whole planets in under three days.”

He immediately loses his humored aurora, replacing it with a slightly taken aback yet somewhat pissed off one. “Ouch. But I can’t image you’re any clever if you happen to be stuck down here with me.”

You point up a finger, “On the contraire, my faults are less hefty then your own. So who really lost here?”

“From the looks of it. Both of us.”

You nod, “That is a truthful observation, but what has gifted us a sentence in exile are two entirely different sides to the relatively same coin.”

“Mine being, failure to conquer and rule Midgard. And yours being?”

“Fine. I’ll satiate your appetite.” He raises a brow as you trail your hand down the buzzing glass, “I may have tried to steal some pretty gems downstairs. Blah blah and I got caught by some lady named Frigga who’s a lot more skilled with magic then I had first realized and now I’m here. Granted I don’t remember getting to said “here” but alas my body remains.”

Loki smirks, “My deer mother got the best of you. How is she up in the real world these days?”

“Oh you know, told me she loves reading, doing the usual witchy stuff, and she hates you so go burn in hell for eternity you shit head little boy.”

Loki could have choked on his own spit, “Pardon me?”

“You heard me, she said she loves you. Is that not what you heard? I really thought I was being pretty clear.”

The Asgardian prince shakes his head, “Forget I asked.” Turning around once again to find his way onto the comfortable looking mattress, new book in hand.

You pout at the lack of attention, what did you say to annoy him? Was it the little shit head boy? Maybe he’s just having a bad day.

——

There he is. That incredibly attractive Asgardian prince of Mischief, just standing there. Reading yet another book in his beautiful greens and blacks and golds as he chooses to ignore you. The insanely gorgeous but deeply irritating woman across the cell from him.

You’ve been in here for about four weeks now and Loki has not cracked once. You’re really trying too! All he’s done is gift you with some telling facial expressions or the wonderful side comment to address your theatrics or harmless shenanigans.

All you want to do is get to know him better. And maybe along the way get the fuck out of here with a little help, and then preferably take the prince along for the ride. If it was only that easy.

Levitating in your cell just because you’re tired of standing all the time, you keep your usual unabashed stare-down with the prince when a random guard marches by. He looks from right to left and forward again before doing a double take over to you.

“Hey! Stop that!” He shouts, lance raised at your smirking face while you continue to float, “You can’t do that here!”

You simply roll your eyes, “Who has made this new rule law?”

The guard pauses for a moment, clearly indicating that he just doesn’t want you floating because he’s a party pooper. He swallows, “By king Odin.”

“By king Odin? Doesn’t his son fly?”

“Huh?” He glances over to Loki who’s not paying attention to you two in the slightest.

“Not that one.”

The guard makes a frustrated grunt before removing his lance away from your face, no matter the safety of the glass, “You can remain afloat but only under my authority.” And with that does he stomp off down the corridor.

Idiot.

You beam a victorious grin as he leaves your sight when a sudden slow clapping can be heard from across the hallway. Immediately do you snap your attention up to the prince who’s already sharing one of his infamous smirks, “Congratulations. You’ll now have an enemy down here. And it only took you a few weeks.”

You scoff, moving yourself to float casually on your back, “It’s about time too. Things were starting to get unbearably dull around here.”

Loki hums, “Ever try reading?”

You snort, “No, no I haven’t. Hmm, but I’d love it if you could read to me, since I don’t happen to have any books within reach. It’s only fair.”

Loki raises a brow, “Only fair?”

“Yes. I have the guards annoyed with me, so, they won’t care much about you. And. You get to read, but also to me as well.”

“That’s a possibly compelling suggestion.” Says the prince, mulling over your words.

“I thought so.”

You close your eyes as a couple moments pass before he speaks again, “But I must decline.”

“What!” You shout in bewilderment as he lowly chuckles, “I might just about die of boredom, you want me on your conscience when I pass into oblivion from lack of entertainment!”

Loki smiles at your adorable face, “Make your own fun.” He teases, though you don’t realize this.

Moving yourself into a standing position, yet still without touching the ground, you press your hands against the golden tinged glass, “Loki! You are a beautifully great annoyance and if I wasn’t stuck in here I would throw all your books about! And then….then I’d knock down your nightstand!”

He smirks, “Charming.”

You pout while your fists clench in irritation, “Fine! I didn’t want to listen to your loathsome voice anyways!” He gifts you with a proud half grin as you turn from him to magically throw your wooden nightstand across the room.

You land, reaching a hand out to launch the nightstand back across the room once more before repeating this action again and again until the whole flimsy thing combusts when it crashes violently into the closest wall.

Breathing heavily, you slowly turn to face the irritation watching you do all of this, “Feel better Y/N.”

Pursing your lips together, you release your tight fists, “Yes.”

He nods, “What would you like me to read?”

“Something joyful…….please.”

Loki shares a handsome grin before giving you a respectfully small bow, “As the lady wishes.” Loki shares a small glance with your curious face before turning to search for a book. He kneels down and soon picks out a book colored in a deep blue, something foreign written in golden cursive on the front.

You slowly return to the ground, this time seated criss crossed as you lean half of yourself upon the glass as you try and get as close to Loki as physically possible. Which is difficult considering the hallway’s short distance keeping your cells apart, but you try anyways. He opens up the book and quickly looks up to catch your gaze before smiling and looking down at the first page.

Loki reveals the smallest blush before clearing his throat, “The Fox and the Raven.” You smirk at his adorable face, how focused and deep in thoughtful concentration he becomes as the words flow off of his sly tongue like molten gold. You could listen to him all day.

“Once there were two beings, equal in skill and game. Best friends since childhood even, but there was one thing that drove a wedge in their long relationship. Another. This beautiful being was beyond compare to that of any god or goddess alike. And the two friends where undoubtedly in love with them.

It began one windy day by the river, the beauty stood, washing their hair by the waters edge with not a mind to mess with anyone in their head. The two friends saw them and smiled. “I shall win their affections.” Claimed the dark haired admirer, Tala. “Not you silly fox, I shall be the one to draw their heart to mine.” Spoke Essek with great confidence, his bestfriend in the whole entire realm.

They looked to each other with clear frustration sculpted into their faces, so, the friends came to an agreement. Whoever failed to win over the water nymphs heart, that friend must stay in their animal form forever while the victorious one could live on as they always have. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe not at first.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as the two friends would speak with the water nymph as often as they could. Tala in raven form and Essek as a dashing fox. All was going well as they played their little game of love until the water nymph began to grow quit fond of the raven for his talents in the sky and witty personality.

So much so that on the next full moon, the raven revealed himself to his true form before making love to the joyful water nymph on the rivers edge. And so the very next day when the fox arrived to speak with the nymph, he was surprised to find Tala laying underneath a weeping willow with the nymph in his strong arms.

The fox recoiled with jealousy before his heart shattered in two, Tala smiled a triumphant grin as the fox turned away in disappointment before rushing off into the woodland. Never to be seen again.

So that is why you can never trust anyone who is truly dear to you, for love is a fleeting thing and can turn friends into beasts for something as silly and pathetic as a beacon of affection.” Finishes Loki in an almost sour tone as you sit there on the cell floor, feeling a bit off and out of place from that abrupt turn of events.

You frown, “I thought you were going to read me a happy story?”

Loki closes the book, “I did.” Blue eyes on you in an instant.

“No. You really didn’t.”

Loki gives you an almost dumbfounded look, “The raven got to keep his original form and make love to the water nymph what else is there to want?” He questions like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. Not.

“The fox is depressed now. That’s not very happy.”

“It was happy for those two, was it not?”

You roll your eyes, “It was. But a happy story should have a happy ending for everyone involved. That’s the point of a happy tale being told.” You counter as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Not everyone gets what they want in the end, Y/N. That’s just life, some are fine and persist while others turn and run with nothing of any significance still clinging to them.”

You sit there a moment in bewilderment, soon rising to float threateningly by the glass, “That’s ridiculous! A happy story should be fucking happy! Love is supposed to be kind and beautiful, not this wedge that turns people against one another and supports a game that shifts into jealousy and disdain for one.”

Loki hums, “Well it is just a story after all. Love does that because it isn’t truthful ever, it’s a fleeting thing without any weight that only causes pain and disappointment.”

Your brows soon furrow at these dark words, “Oh and what do you understand about love?” You hotly challenge, voice accusatory and fierce.

“That it isn’t real.” Mutters the prince with a casual shrug, though his face flashes with uncertainty.

You scoff, “Is it now? You think love is a simple lie? A trick from the universe to keep races existing until their worlds collapse?”

“Yes.” Nods the Asgardian, “That’s what I believe.”

You take a breath, feet slowly touching the cool tiled floor as you speak, “You have no idea what it feels like then. So how can you claim it to be false?”

Loki crosses his arms, “True love isn’t real because that just cannot be realistic in any sense Y/N. Same thing as feeling happy or when you sneeze….the feeling is a feeling like butterflies in your stomach when you get excited. But like every emotion given, it leaves and the feelings are dulled or just dissipate altogether.”

“You’re wrong.” You bitterly mutter, voice low and filled with a somber hurt.

“And how would I be wrong then?” He wonders, truly curious to see how on earth you are able to counter this. He doesn’t wholeheartedly believe in love, though his growing affections for you seem to have him conflicted. He still wants to know.

“It is like magic, to be in love.” You reply, a faint smile ghosting your lips as you press your hands against the glass, “It is bright and brilliant and beautiful. It does not come and go like a fleeting spark from a dying flame. Love, like magic, forms from within when let into someone’s vessel. It is a power that always remains no matter where the person travels, or how old they become. Love, in the end and always through existence will remain. No matter what.”

Loki could have shed a tear at your beautiful explanation, yet his stubbornness persists, “A fairytale. Nothing more.”

“A fairytale? A fucking fairytale!?” You shout, voice rising in fury, “You don’t know anything but the lies you tell yourself you heartless bastard! All I wanted was a happy story that made me smile before I’m executed! And you couldn’t even give me that you selfish prick of a man!”

Loki’s heart grows cold as a winters morning, he blinks, forgetting how to properly breath at your heated declarations. He steps closer to the thin glass, brows furrowed in puzzled apprehension, “You’re being executed?” He asks, tone low and thoughtful.

Face falling into a deep frown, you lower your head in shame, “I have been condemned to die for my crimes above. Guess they’re not so simple as I had first claimed.”

“What do you mean?”

You let out a telling sigh, “I didn’t try and take the queens jewels, I tried to murder her..”

“You what?!” Whispers the Asgardian prince, eyes wide in shock, “What do you mean?”

Your gaze keeps trained onto the floor, “I am…well, I was….an assassin. Who, ultimately could not force myself to murder your mother Frigga, so I let myself be caught and taken. It’s the least I deserve for the life I’ve led. This is just how it goes, and I’m ready.”

Loki’s mind races, he never even suspected such a thing coming from you. Sure you’re indeed a beautiful mystery of a person who enjoys levitating in her cell for the hell of it. But your appearance and pose never revealed someone capable of homicide as their profession, least of all you.

And now, his father is condemning you to death rightly so, but Loki can’t help but think you don’t truly deserve this fate. Maybe, just possibly, he’d feel like he was losing a close friend. Someone who he never had any intentions of developing these strange new feelings for.

“I won’t let him end your life.” Suddenly speaks the prince, “You didn’t kill her, you actively chose not to, so I believe he could sway his final decision.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Wishful thinking.” Just as three guards dressed in their true Asgardian golds walk to the front of your cell. Loki swallows, they dissipate the golden tinged force field, leaving you with nothing but air to keep you from their clutches.

“Y/N.” Softly calls the dark haired prince, voice small and desperate, he didn’t think they would take you so soon but what does he truly know anymore? Your sad eyes lock onto his as one guard snaps metal cuffs against your wrists, and another around your throat before he ushers you out.

Loki can’t tear his eyes from yours the whole time, and even after you’ve been dragged down the hallway and out of sight. He thinks, maybe you’ll return and it was all a big misunderstanding, a simple nightmare and he’ll wake any second now. But he knows this is foolish thinking, you’re never coming back. And he’s beside himself.

Loki bows his head in silent anguish, fists clenched tight as his heartbeat begins to race when suddenly he releases his grip and a small blast of green magic emits in the aftermath. Just enough power to knock some books onto the floor in protest. He doesn’t pick them up.

In the following days, Loki would pace around his cell like a nervous lion. Reading book after book to help pass the time though he couldn’t stop his racing mind from thinking about you. Where were you now? What had they done to you? Did it hurt?

He didn’t know and what’s worse is the guards only seemed to mock him about it, claiming your life was worth more dead then anything else. It stung like a heated iron spear left too long in the hot coals, he missed you beyond compare. How did you make him feel this way? When did that happen?

He missed your mischievous smile, your alluring eyes of curiosity and concealed chaos. The way you spoke to him like a person and not just a prisoner, or even a prince who’s disappointed his whole kingdom. You didn’t care, sure you lived to tease and pester him relentlessly, but you didn’t truly care about his current status.

You drew the attention out of him without even needing to try, brought a smile upon his face weather he was aware of it or not, and made him feel genuinely excited about waking up the next day. You became everything to him and more, and Loki hadn’t even realized this until it was too late.

But now you’re gone. And he will never see another Y/N for as long as he is to live.

Loki sits with his back against the wall, hair undoubtedly a wild mess closely matching that of the room about him. Books, clothing, furniture, and other personal belongings lay around his cell like the aftermath of a furious hurricane. He didn’t mean for this to happen, but when he got word that his mother was injured in the attack by the dark elves and freed prisoners. He new it was his fault, he led them to freedom after all.

With his mother healing from her non fatal wounds, and the loss of his dear Y/N to the axe. Loki has been doing less then tremendous these past few weeks, clearly. The prince now closes his weary eyes, breathing steadily as a new presence makes itself known across the golden tinged glass. He doesn’t care to look.

“Well don’t you look sad.” Teases a familiar voice, not condescending but just enough to make him laugh if he felt like it.

He opens his eyes to find your smirking face, body safe and sound wrapped in a cloak of white and intricately laced gold. How absolutely beautiful you are. His brows furrow as he mutters, “You’re just an illusion.” Voice horse and filled with doubt.

You raise a brow, “So is this?” You ask in reference to the clean cut illusion Loki is controlling, “I think not. I can see right through it.”

He forgot about the illusion he’s been creating since his breakdown, of course you’d see right through it, “You died. And my mother is hurt.”

“So you lost control within yourself and chose self deprecation? And apparently…chaos.” The trickster god rolls his tired eyes which causes you to chuckle, “I see my passing onto greater things has weakened your ego.”

He scoffs, “Your ghost form does not amuse me.”

Taking a glance down the vacant hallway, you step right through the golden tinged force field like it’s nothing more then air. “Loki Laufeyson, I am not a phantom or a dreary pigment of your imagination you foolish prick. I am Y/N, Goddess of Chaos and Magic. And someone who has missed you deeply.”

Loki frowns, blue eyes focused up at your truthful face as he sighs, “I….I don’t think I understand what is happening.”

You approach his side before kneeling down to reach his level, you two have never been this close before, “My tale was true as the forming of this realm itself. But your mother saw me for who I am, not what I have been enchanted to do with my life. So she gave me another chance to live, and so I did. To protect her and guard her until she deems otherwise, that’s why I’m still alive and that’s why your mother still has a beating heart.”

Loki reaches out for your hand that you gladly let him take, “Those prisoners..”

“I killed them. Every last one of those fuckers and the damn dark elves who attempted to crash their ship into the great hall. Let’s just say, it didn’t go according to their plans.” You explain, pausing for a moment to share a longing look with the Asgardian prince.

The corners of his lips rise into a soft smile, a deeply relieved one while you look down at your laced fingers, “Loki.” You whisper before drawing your head up to properly look at him.

“Yes.”

“I’m still counting on a better story.” You muse as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Unfortunately none of these books happen to provide a decent tale, my dear.”

You gently squeeze his hand, “In that case I’ll bring you all the books stuffed in that giant library. There’s bound to be a good one, something happy.”

“I’d like that.” Nods the prince.

You smile, “But I have to ask you one thing.”

“Of course.”

“Did you miss me?”

Loki squeezes your hand right back, “More then I’d ever missed anyone.” Reveals the dark haired prince as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, though his fingers linger on your cheek a moment longer before he slowly pulls them away and into his lap.

You can’t help but snicker which causes his face to scrunch up in puzzled embarrassment. Immediately do you reach up to cup his cheek, “I felt the same way. And I think I might feel a bit more too, quit possibly a lot more. No. Yes definitely a lot more then I first led on from a few weeks ago in fact and all I must admit to you now Loki Laufeyson or Odinson..prince of Asgard I think I’d like to kiss you now if that’s okay with you.”

Loki blinks, did he hear you right? “oh.” He mumbles, clearly unsure of himself or whatever wonderful thing you just said.

You immediately remove your hand from his cheek, “Too soon. Sorry I just thought I read you right maybe I was wrong I can just leav….” You don’t even have a moment to finish your sentence when his lips press pleasantly against yours.

His hands hold your face while your own hands gently grip onto his forearms for support in your awkward positioning, with him sitting and you still crouched. But it matters not when his lips move in time with yours, he feels so lovely, like a hundred roses pressing against your skin.

Giving you that soft velvety feel, you could kiss him all day if he’d let you. Though soon enough the two of you must break for some air, and with that do you pull him to his feet while you float just inches off of the messy ground. Loki never once taking his hand away from yours.

“How can you….how can you do that?” Wonders the prince as he glances from the ground to your face.

You shrug, “How can you move things with your mind?”

He smiles, “I guess, I just can. A terribly lackluster explanation I know, but perhaps I’m not truly certain how either.”

“Well let’s not dwell on the unknown for too long, this moment right now is too sacred for anything else. And though I have to leave, I will return to you…..and next time with more books. Then you will have no choice then to read them all to me.”

Loki hums, “I don’t see a problem there.” Before whispering in your ear, “Maybe bring some wine, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening.”

You share a bright grin, “As the spoiled prince asks, but it will cost you.”

Loki raises an intrigued brow, “Cost what?”

“A kiss. Before and after I do your bidding. Can you settle for those terms?”

Loki’s lips pull into an adorable smile, cheeks almost dusting pink at your new flash of boldness. He’s never met anyone quit like you in all his years alive. “I believe those terms are acceptable.”

You give him a wink, “Good. See you then.” And with that do you crash your lips against his for on more heated embrace before leaving one final kiss to his slender cheek and floating out of the cell you go. Stopping behind the glass to give your new lover one last fleeting look, “Miss me you prick.”

Loki smirks, “Always.”

[delldarling]

bearberry bargain | pyre

male arctic fox shifter x gender/body neutral reader 10,261 words lemon | older shifter, knotting, oral, penetrative sex, no choking but there is throat touching, tricks and bargains, getting lost note: this was the Story of the Month for December 2020 over on my Patreon! It is loosely tied into the same world as my dragon fellow Arroven, but reading Arroven’s story first is most definitely not required. 

————-　🦊　————-

The tundra is a gorgeous, but unforgiving landscape. You can hear the words on repeat in your head, clear as a twice damned bell. Worse than that, you can see Bristle, the orc woman that had served as your guide out here, in your mind's eye saying the words as she gestured to the fog drenched terrain. And The Mirrored Teeth are a little more dangerous than most. In the rain, or like now, in the fog, the stone spires gleam. They are beautiful, and all too easy to mistake for a far off porch light, or street lamp—but that isn’t what’s truly dangerous out here.

Bristle’s partner, a curly haired satyr by name of Rhim, with coins jingling in his carefully coiffed beard, had then stepped up to speak. Unfortunately, The Mirrored Teeth weren’t named for the teeth-like spires alone. The mirroring, or in this case, echoing, is the real danger. Voices carry strangely out here when the fog is thick, and if someone is lost? Our first instinct is to travel towards a light, or someone shouting. Whether the voices are our own, bouncing back to us from the spires or the mountains, or they’re the product of a still-living magical area?

They’d both spoken in unison then, smiling at each other with the ease of familiarity: Don’t follow the voices.

Each person in the tour group had been given a small token after their list of safety precautions, to serve as a tracker in case someone was separated. One person had asked if it was likely to get lost, and Bristle had snorted before she’d adopted her tour guide voice again. To come out here in the first place, everyone had been asked to sign a waiver because, inevitably, someone did end up wandering away. They followed voices that sounded like loved ones from past or present. They followed voices that sounded like themselves, calling out warnings. It was generally why people ended up taking the tour in the first place, listening eagerly for a voice they’d long since thought lost, or some kind of warning from their future self, so compelling and entrancing that they must be the product of magic. Most, though not all, of the people were generally found. Overtired and aching from sleeping on the ground out in the cold, but otherwise unharmed. Whatever caused the voices, magic or not, didn’t seem to hurt people, only leave them confused.

A few of the others currently with the group had come out for more academic reasons. Art and science in most cases, but otherwise those going on the tour were magic chasers, looking to record the fog voice phenomena for further study.

You might not have come out here with a recorder, but you can’t exactly deny that magic chaser applies to you as well. Claims of The Mirrored Teeth holding tangible residual magic are terribly rampant. You’ve wanted to witness it for yourself, to hear the voices, or feel the soft ache of magical energy on your skin, just the once. You’ve wanted… Well, it’s hard sometimes, not to want to feel the call of magic.

“And look where it’s led you,” you mutter, searching your pockets for the hundredth time. You know you won’t find the token, that you must have lost it when you slipped on some slick moss about an hour ago, but you can’t stop yourself now. It’s like trying to leave a loose thread alone once nervous fingers have found it. You keep reaching for the token, keep trying to find it, even though you know nothing you do will help any longer. You don’t recognize any of the surrounding terrain.

When you’d started out with the tour group, there hadn’t been anything but fog and the scrubby ground, hardened by a hidden layer of permafrost. You’d seen pictures of the teeth-like spires, but hadn’t been able to spot any when you first arrived. Now, every time you turn around it feels like you’re surrounded by the damned things. They radiate a soft glow, magnified further by the heavy mist and from far off? They look just like the teeth they’re named for. “Done in by moss,” you add, straining your eyes to see further through the fog. ”Not even by the voices!” Which, frankly, was disappointing. Not that you wanted to be lost in the first place, but hearing some of the voices the Mirrored Teeth are known for would have at least given you a better reason. An expected reason to be lost or wandering away from the group. Instead you’d simply slipped, brushed off a handful of withered greenery and pebbles, and had gotten back to your feet to find yourself alone.

You’d shouted yourself hoarse after the first half hour, calling out for Bristle and Rhim, staying in the same place, or assuming you’d stayed in the same place. You’d bent to find the token again, but even that had apparently been too much movement. Every time you lifted your head to look away from the ground, there was a different bit of flora springing up in front of you—and then you’d nearly smacked yourself head first into one of the spires, none of which are clearly marked on the map you have of the surrounding area. There’s always too much mist to plot them.

“Bristle! Rhim?” You call out again, cupping your hands around your mouth, not knowing if you should even hope for some kind of answer. What if they don’t answer because of the echoes? What if that’s the reason they’ve yet to answer in the first place?

The soft crack of a branch makes you whirl, throat growing tight when you spot the shadow of three figures through the fog. They straighten up, huffing, and the fog slowly spins away, shadows coalescing and revealing an older man shouldering a pack that he’s clearly just dug up from the ground. For a moment, he’s silent, staring, hand clenching tight at his pack as his eyes rove over your face. His gaze dips to your feet and lifts quickly back to your face before he wipes the surprise from his expression. “I hoped I was mistaken,” he grouses in a soft voice, tossing his head to get his ragged mane of salt and pepper hair out of his eyes. “But ‘lo, a human. Those tours are getting earlier and earlier every year, aren’t they?” He sighs, not asking like he expects an answer, but more like he’s just making an unpleasant statement. For half a second you have a retort on your lips, but the longer you stare, the more words vanish from your vocabulary.

The man has clearly tried to tame his ragged hair, weaving it into a messy, short braid that’s just long enough to hang over his right shoulder. There are earrings hanging from his right earlobe, dangly things that clink softly while he brushes impatiently at the dirt on his knees. His jacket, once a lovely heather gray, and obviously a match to a long lost suit, is patched and worn in multiple places. His jeans are nothing to write home about either, with frayed hems and patched knees. He has silvery stubble on his cheeks, and crows feet at the corners of his copper eyes, and—and a long tail, like a bottlebrush, fur standing on end. Until he sees that you’re watching. The tail vanishes behind his legs and your eyes zero in on his sharp nailed fingers, the backs of his knuckles covered with pale, soft looking hair. He grimaces, baring razor edged teeth, and promptly makes to stride past you, not even bothering to wait for you to get out of the way. He draws a rough breath as soon as he bumps into you, flinching away from actually knocking you to the ground, but it’s near enough to set your temper stoking.

Frankly? His manners are atrocious. But you’re also lost somewhere out in the tundra, and even if he doesn’t know where your tour is, he knows of them. You wrestle your temper into staying silent and rush after him.

“Wait! Hey, wait up,” you ask, ignoring the thrill that runs through you when you snag hold of his jacket sleeve and his tail bristles again. He’s not just hiding a tail either. His feet look more like great canine paws, which means—

The man whirls, and you spot two furred ears hidden under his uneven hair before he yanks his arm away from you, breathing far too fast. “Surely you know better than to grab at a shifter?” He hisses, leaning in close to your face. For half a second, he’s close enough for you to feel warmth radiating off of his body, but then his nostrils flare and his voice grows quiet. “Or are you from one of those backwater humans only villages in the East?”

“I’m—I’m sorry for grabbing you,” you blurt, mildly startled by his proximity to your face. “And while yes, that wasn’t a smart idea, I’m lost out here. Would it have been smarter of me to let you leave me in the dust before I asked for directions?” You take a slow step back, though you don’t let your eyes drop from his. You’re not going to take your eyes off of him for even a second if it means the fog is going to swallow him up and leave you all on your lonesome again.

The shifter narrows his copper eyes, highlighting the faint wrinkles in his brown skin. “Lost, you said?” He straightens, and keeps staring, eerily still. His frown only grows more pronounced when you nod your head. “You’re three days out from where the tours start. How long have you been lost?”

“Three days,” you repeat, uncomprehending. For another few seconds, the words don’t make any kind of sense. You’ve been separated from your group, according to your watch, for just over an hour. When you glance at the timepiece, only another handful of minutes have passed, but not enough time to even come close to explaining three days worth of travel. Your pulse is already racing, but it’s beginning to grow past the point of discomfort and into painful territory with how hard your heart is working. How the hell are you supposed to get back? “That’s not possible,” you breathe.

He doesn’t soften, but for a few moments he doesn’t look quite so irritated. “If you heard anything at all on that tour, then I’m sure you know it is possible. Residual magic, yes? It can do quite a bit more than just throw voices like a puppeteer.” He shifts his weight, like he’s ready to leave the moment you give him a chance.

“I’ve been lost for an hour,” you say, hoping that will spell out exactly how ridiculous you find his claims. “And I did my best to stay in one place. I’ve barely even begun to walk anywhere, and I didn’t—didn’t feel anything magical.”

“Isn’t it terribly rare to feel anything magical?” He asks, only gently mocking. “So few people even notice when something magical has happened to them. Now, it sounds as if the fog leapfrogged you through space,” he adds, wrinkling his nose. “Or did those green guides of yours not mention that something like this might happen?” He waits, but when you don’t immediately answer, the shifter sighs again, shakes his head and pivots, heading back into the still-swirling fog, ready to leave you behind.

You make another desperate grab for his sleeve, thankful that he only grimaces when he turns back to face you again. “In fact, yes, they did forget to mention! If you happen to have a satellite phone, or maybe-”

The shifter laughs and your grip on his sleeve grows slack. He’s rather handsome when he smiles, and looks like some kind of down-on-his-luck musician, dreaming of his glory days. You hastily let go of his sleeve, before he decides to yank himself away a second time. “Me? Ol’ Pyre, wandering about the tundra with a satellite phone?” He lifts his bag, clumps of dirt still falling from it. “I’m coming out this way to spend the winter in my other skin, and generally? Foxes have no use for phones.” He lifts his chin, scenting the air, and then nods his head in the direction behind you. “Head that way and the fog is likely to lead you right back.”

“Likely or certain?” You press, scowling. “Because there’s a rather large difference between those two options, and I’m not going to risk myself on likely.”

Pyre huffs out a sharp edged: “Which do you think?” before he registers the way your hands are starting to shake with nerves. His mouth opens, and then snaps shut. For a long moment he’s quiet, gritting his teeth, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not prepared for more than an evening trek through the tundra, are you? Enough food for a snack and dinner round a campfire before they herd you back?”

A small wave of relief loosens your shoulders. If he’s asking, then surely he’s not going to turn tail and leave you all by your lonesome? You start to smile, ready and willing to ask for further help, but Pyre turns away with a quiet curse.

“Pitiful idiots,” he says, glancing up at the sky, even though he can’t see anything but the vague hint of daylight through the thick fog. “Three days. And leaving would be akin to murder.” He bares his teeth, still looking up for a few seconds longer before he turns a sharp look your way, fingers curling and uncurling at his side. “I’ll lead you as far as the Slavering river. If you stick to that and keep yourself from wandering off into the fog again, you’ll certainly make it close enough for those idiot guides to find you.”

Slavering, the river is called, Bristle’s voice picks up in your head again, because they once thought the tundra a hungry thing, with teeth besides. She’d gestured to the West, though none of the group had been able to spot or hear the roar of the water yet. It had just been another wall of fog over hard earth and low growing shrubs. We’ll end our hike there.

You offer Pyre your hand, still worried about the trek, still ill at ease with what the fog has done, but feeling decidedly less panicked. Residual magic my ass. As soon as I’m back, the guides are going to expand that little safety speech of theirs.

“Thank you, really. I appreciate it. If I hadn’t—”

“Save your breath for the walk,” Pyre mutters and fully ignores your outstretched hand, skirting around you in a wide arch so he won’t risk touching you accidentally. He doesn’t get more than a few paces away though before he’s turning to look at you over his shoulder. “And keep up. If the fog decides to deposit you somewhere else, there aren’t many other helpful shifters wandering about the area.” He saunters off ahead, trusting you to make your own way, but the fur on his tail doesn’t lay flat until you’re jogging to catch up with him.

“Are there dangerous shifters then?” You risk asking, thankful for your heavy coat and the weight of your own pack. Bristle and Rhim hadn’t mentioned any shifters in the area at all, but then they also hadn’t told any of you that the residual magic might move you without your knowledge. Perhaps they would have, if you’d been allowed to stick around, but it feels like a glaring oversight, now that you’re all the way out here. Maybe this is why they make everyone sign the waiver. Not because of some idiotic, siren-like voices, but because of magical fog.

Pyre’s ears twitch, visible for only a split second through his hair. “Don’t wander off,” is all he chooses to add before he falls silent, doing his best to stay several steps ahead of you to discourage speech.

“That’s encouraging,” you mutter, and his ears twitch again, but he doesn’t respond. The walk to the Slavering is going to feel like a very long one from the looks of it, and it isn’t just because everything looks much the same no matter which way you turn. You shove your hands deep in your coat pockets, watching the middle of Pyre’s back, and do your best not to unconsciously search for the lost token. You already know your pockets are still empty.

————-　🦊　————-

Despite Pyre’s desire for absolute silence, he mutters about things without thinking. He comments quietly on a hare speeding away when a noise startles you. He grabs up handfuls of wild berries off of the scrubby bushes you pass, promptly dropping any that are too spoiled to be edible. He flicks some of them away with soft, but mocking farewells until he recalls that you’re not far behind him, listening to everything he says. Pyre’s threadbare shoulders always rise with embarrassment, but after the third time it happens and he remembers you’re there, he sighs, shaking off his chagrin. He pauses just long enough to grab your arm and slap some of the berries into your open palm, doing his best not to meet your eyes.

When he speaks, he keeps his eyes on your fingers, touch careful and tense. “Eat those if you’re feeling peckish, or save them for this evening and you can boil them down into tea. Don’t dive into any of your stores if you can until sometime tomorrow.”

“What about you?” You ask, noticing that he’s barely kept any at all for himself. A berry or two slips away, rolling off of your hand and dropping to the ground.

Pyre arches a brow, closing your hand around the berries so no more can fall before he takes a step back. “I’ll be hunting as soon as I leave you by the river. I’m more than well equipped to look after myself out here. A few berries won’t make much of a difference.”

“Is this a regular thing for you then? Coming out here to the tundra once a month for shifting?”

“For the winter,” Pyre corrects in a sour tone, and then turns back to his chosen path again. “Coming out to the tundra isn’t a regular thing for you though, is it? Or was it just the magic that left you so frightened?”

The berries he’s given you are small and gleaming red, and you don’t much care for his continued irritable attitude. You pop three into your mouth while you ignore him, expecting it to be, at the worst, bitter. Instead it’s dry. You make a noise of distaste, which makes Pyre glance back again. He stops, confused for all of two seconds before his eyes widen and he chokes on his laugh. The sour twist of your mouth is clue enough. “Definitely not a regular traveling spot,” he states. “Unfamiliar with bearberries?”

“I hope that isn’t what they taste like when they’re boiled,” you mumble, doing your best to refrain from scrubbing at your tongue. “And no, the tundra isn’t really a prime vacation spot for me or most anyone else. The draw of lingering, tangible magic is a little too much for some people to ignore though. Maybe not everyone, but some of us.”

Pyre hums, tail raising when he hops over a strange looking crack in the earth. “Feeling a call?” He asks, voice far too even to be pleasant.

That’s a personal question in most places, and Pyre has already quietly mocked your interest in magic once. He does seem the type to poke at uncomfortable topics though, to try and get a rise out of someone. His tail is still bristled out as well, quietly hinting that he’s not in a pleasant mood. “Is that why you come out here during the winter? I don’t hear much about other shifters vanishing for an entire season, fox or not.”

“The only call I’ll ever feel is the one to shift,” he grumps, but he does smack his lips and slow down for a moment, letting you keep pace. “I make bad decisions,” Pyre finally adds, as if that clarifies anything at all.

“All the time? Or-”

“Smartass.”

“That wasn’t even hard, are you really going to fault me for that one?” You wait, patiently, but no answer is forthcoming, and then he rushes forward a few steps ahead. “I’ll take that as a yes?” You call out, but Pyre just keeps walking, like he’s reached the end of his tolerance for speaking politely with another living being. “Well, that was nice while it lasted,” you mumble, frowning when you spot his shaking shoulders. He’s—he’s laughing. Maybe he isn’t suffering from lack of manners entirely, but instead has been too long out of practice.

“Not all the time,” Pyre calls back when he trusts his rasp of a voice not to betray his amusement. “Just a fourth of it.”

For the season, he’d said. You snort and don’t even try to hold back a smile when Pyre tilts his head to look at you. His head immediately snaps forward and he shakes it, as if to ward off an unhappy thought. He’s grumpy because... he’s awkward and shy? The last of your fear, still borne aloft by the way he’s spoken thus far, by his quiet mutter of akin to murder eases immeasurably. You follow after him now in less strained silence, a bit more confident now that you’ll make it back to the tour group in one piece.

————-　🦊　————-

Your confidence lasts until early evening, when visibility is becoming a huge issue for you. No matter how well you might see in the dark, the fog feels like it’s pressing in on you from all sides. Pyre hasn’t slowed by much, but then you see the pale, rapid swish of his tail, moving so fast it looks for a moment like he has more and then you recall that he’s a shifter. His eyesight, as well as his sense of smell, are by far better than your own. He might be able to keep going well into the night, but—You grunt, catching your toe on a white rock the height of your ankle. Before you can fall, or do much more than exclaim in quiet pain, Pyre has his hands on your shoulders, keeping you up and steady.

“It’s dark,” he says quietly, by way of apology. “We’ll stop for the night just up ahead. Can you make it?”

“Without tripping over rocks or falling on my face, you mean?” You breathe in, and promptly swallow. He smells a bit like fresh campfire smoke and the faint citrusy scent of the bearberries and he’s entirely too close. You don’t necessarily want him to move away though, not with the darkness growing thick around you. “Probably not,” you admit quietly.

Pyre hums, breathing in slowly, and the sound is terribly intimate. “...you need a hand?”

“Unless you’d rather I trip and skin my knees and palms in the dark? Yes.”

“Humans,” Pyre says, amused, and clucks his tongue as he takes hold of your wrist, turning away to continue on and pull you after him. He only pauses when you try to tug your hand away.

“You can hold my hand instead of towing me along like a kid at the fair. I don’t even have sticky fingers.” You turn your hand, thankful when he lets you adjust his hold. His fingernails, thicker due to his shifting nature, dig a little too hard into the side of your hand before he reflexes his grip.

He pauses, tense, even though his palm is a soothing warmth against yours. “Not sticky,” he finally agrees. Pyre hesitates, like he wants to say more, but a low, strange voice calls out something from far off. As soon as you hear it, the voice has it’s hooks in you. Your entire body grows tense, hair prickling, listening as hard as you can to try to make out the words. “No,” Pyre says in a low growl, trying to interrupt your concentration. He’s only barely louder than the voice. “Don’t listen. It’s all too easy to-”

“That sounds like—”

“It sounds like nothing that matters. Even if you know the voice, it doesn’t matter.” Pyre grunts when you turn your head, trying to follow the fading voice with your ear alone. He rips his hand out of yours so he can take hold of your face, pulling you close until you’re nearly nose to nose with him, thumbs on your cheekbones, fingernails scratching gently behind your ears. “Right now, the only thing that matters is making camp for the night. We’re heading this way and you are not going to go looking for that voice in the dark.”

You suck down a fierce breath, closing your eyes as the last of the echoing voice fades away. As soon as it’s gone, your shoulders start to slump, and you feel strangely hollow. “That is why they make us sign that waiver?” You ask, opening your eyes to find Pyre still terribly close, his hands still cradling your face.

For a moment, he lingers, breath warm against your lips, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening the longer he stares at you up close. The bright copper of his eyes is muted in the darkness, but the white in his hair, in his eyebrows, stands out brilliantly, and you think there might be more of it now than there was earlier this afternoon. “I knew you’d be a bad decision,” he whispers, and inexplicably, you think he might be about to kiss you. Your heart begins to gallop around your chest, your hands lifting to grasp at his wrists, his own still on your face—and then Pyre pulls away, dragging his nails over your skin. He tangles his fingers with yours and leads you quietly through the dark.

You’re not sure whether you should ask about his other bad decisions again… But you desperately want to.

Putting together the camp is a chilly affair at best. The shelter you help Pyre fumble through in the dark, though of course he has no trouble navigating the process, is little more than a heavy tarp tied securely between two of the tall, white teeth. There isn’t much wind, but now the mist is heavy enough to dot your eyelashes and bead along your sleeves. You don’t quite believe Pyre when he says he can get a fire going, forcing you to sit next to the small ring of stones he’s gathered. “There’s a copse of trees not far from here,” he explains, tilting his head to your right, though you can’t see anything through the fog, and especially not in the dark. “And I’ll be able to scrounge up enough for a fire.”

You want to ask him if he’ll be able to find his way back to you. If he thinks you’ll be safe sitting here on your own, especially after the voice from earlier. Voicing your concerns feels a bit too much like an invitation for bad luck though, and you still don't know Pyre very well. He might be helping you out of the goodness of his heart, but he's already dubbed you a bad decision. You're not sure you want to push things. “Won’t the wood be wet?” You ask instead, chafing your hands together to stir up a little bit of heat.

“No fear of shifters,” Pyre scoffs, straightening up and pulling his bag off of his back. “No screaming at strangers when you're lost in the foggy tundra, but you're worried about damp firewood?" You scowl, knowing full well he can see your expression. That surprises a rough sounding laugh out of him. "I may choose to spend my winter as a fox, but that doesn't mean I don't turn back into a man when spring comes." Pyre brandishes a small box, a tin filled with what sounds like matches. He rattles them about for emphasis. “Charmed matches are a necessity out here, not optional. Even if the wood is damp, they’ll catch well enough to last us the night.”

Charmed matches aren’t exactly common. A package of them, when used only in dire situations, should last someone a score of years at least, and as the spells to make them are some of the few guarantees of still working magic… They cost a pretty penny. “...should you be wasting them on me when I’m supposed to find the tour guides tomorrow?”

Pyre shakes the box at you, silently insisting you take it from his hand. When you take it from him, there’s more hair, more fur on his fingers than there was earlier in the day. You wonder if it’s a conscious change to help stave off the chill, or if it’s simply too close to when he shifts. “We need some way to boil a bit of water for bearberry tea, don’t we? Unless you’d rather eat them plain.” He sounds like he’s smiling, but the dark is getting more oppressive and you can’t see it. Pyre’s tone turns a little more serious, a little more apologetic as he continues: “And using them seems to keep away the voices, so yes. As I’ve taken responsibility for your safety—”

“Responsibility,” you murmur, arching a brow, but you can’t exactly disagree.

“—I’ll do exactly as I said. You’ll get to the Slavering, and I’ll even give you a match as a gift. You can make a torch as you head back and the voices should leave you be.”

You don’t shake the tin of them, knowing that they’re valuable, but you stroke your finger over the top, following the raised patterns of letters. “Will they work, even if they’re unlit?”

Pyre waits, and you don’t know whether he’s reluctant to give you an answer or he doesn’t actually know. “Are you worried about me going to grab the firewood?”

Well, it was kind of ridiculous, trying to hide your nervousness from him anyway. You’re lost in the tundra with someone you don’t know. No matter how resilient you are, it’s going to be nerve wracking. “I’ve never felt quite as strange as when I heard that voice, even with you pulling me back from it…” You stop, a frown growing on your lips. “But the voice didn’t do anything to you. You had no problem telling me not to listen to it.”

Pyre crouches, his knees popping, and groans quietly, rubbing at the patch just under his left kneecap. You can see his hands, pale fur the only spot of brightness in the night. “They don’t much affect shifters. We’re…. We’re already rather full of magic ourselves, even if it isn’t the kind one can use by uttering spells or mixing ingredients in a pot. Whatever the reason, the voices don’t seem to like magic. So a box of those matches?” He reaches out to tap on the tin with one long nail. “It should keep you from falling prey for the few moments it will take me to gather wood. I still wouldn’t get up though, then you might risk dropping it.”

You don’t know everything about the tundra, even with what research you did before you came on the trip, and the talk of magic here? It’s still something people want to study. One of the ones that came with a recorder would probably be thrilled to hear this much about the place from… Pyre might not be a year-round local, but he knows quite a bit. If he can hold off his shifting, maybe you’ll ask him to talk to one of them. “I’ll be safe,” you say, extrapolating, “as long as I stay sitting here. You’ll be able to find me again?”

“...I’ll be able to follow your scent, yes,” he admits, like he expects you to be irritated with the thought. Far, far away, another voice echoes, much fainter than the one you’d heard before. It doesn’t sound pained or panicked though, it sounds a bit like—Pyre takes your fingers, almost crushing them around the tin box in your hands. The voice vanishes. “You’ll be safe,” Pyre repeats, and a breeze whisks through the area, catching at his wild grey and white hair.

“Then get the wood,” you say, before you lose your nerve. “I’ll wait.” Pyre’s hand, still curled tightly around your fingers, eases. He brushes his thumb over the valleys between your knuckles and then pulls away.

“A few moments only. I promise,” he whispers, and then his canine-like feet are scuffing through the hard dirt and lichen covered rocks.

As soon as he’s gone, you soothe yourself by running your fingers over the tin of matches, trying to figure out what words are written along the top in fine, curling letters. There are too many loops though and when you do your best to try and focus on it, bringing it up close to your face, all you can see is that places on the tin have been worn down. Whatever it might say, the color on the tin won’t help you figure it out. It feels like only seconds, but another noise echoes in the darkness, your heart jumping back into overdrive. You clutch at the matchbox, but then Pyre is stepping out of the heavy fog, dropping a heaving armful of twisted branches and thick tangles of what looks like weeds.

“Moments, I thought you said! What was that, 30 seconds?” You ask, trying to calm your racing heart.

Pyre laughs. “I think you were just lost in thought, hm? It’s easy to lose track of time in the dark.” He kneels at the ring of rocks, cursing, even though you can’t hear any popping in his limbs this time. “Now, give me the matches and let’s get things a bit warmer, hm?”

You hand them over, and then get to work. You feel more than see Pyre’s surprise when you start picking up the branches and weeds. “I may be human, but I can help do a bit of work. It’s the last I can do after you helping me like this, what with your shifting getting close.”

“Noticed that, did you?” He asks, tin creaking as he opens and closes the lid. You glance over, but other than his pale fur, you can’t make out what he’s actually doing. A second later and he’s striking one of the charmed matches over a rough rock, and then it blazes merrily in a bit of fire smaller than a penny. “I won’t be a danger. I’m old enough to keep my wits. My… I should warn you, my breed of shifting isn’t always so pretty as others though.”

“Is that why you come out here?”

“One of many reasons,” Pyre mutters and holds the match to the wood in the fire pit. The match doesn’t burn down immediately though, or even catch the weeds when he touches it to them. Pyre deposits it carefully in the exact middle of arrangement, planting it almost like a seedling in the wood and weeds. Only after he removes his hand does the match start to spark, and then fire twists open like a blooming flower. It’s gorgeous. You lift your eyes to Pyre, awe clear in your gaze, and then you have to blink. He’s still the older man you saw this afternoon. He still has a mostly human face, but his arms look longer now, and his copper eyes flash strangely in the firelight. He glances at you, and you see that his mouth has grown wider, the edges either curling back towards his cheekbones or… Or his jaws are elongating. “Frightened?” He asks, and then you realize that you’ve been staring.

“Mildly startled,” you correct, refusing to look away. Whether he’s a pretty kind of shifter or not, you can still see him in his eyes and the way he holds himself.

He chuffs, and the noise warms something deep in your chest. “Smartass,” he says, sounding very fond. “I’ll make some of that tea now then, if you’d like it.”

“Bearberry tea,” you muse, reaching in your pocket for the rest of the berries he’d given you. Pyre unearths a small cooking pot from his bag, as well as an earthenware mug, glazed some kind of deep green. He hands you the mug and then holds out the pot, nodding his head when you lift your berry filled hand over it. It takes longer than you would like. Pyre has to mash the berries down and then he surprises you by standing and tugging at the tarp edge of your shelter. Water, mist really, beaded so heavily along the taut plastic that there’s enough to fill the pot near to overflowing. It’s much more than you would have thought, but Pyre seems unsurprised, even though you’ve both been relatively dry since he started building the fire.

“Alright,” you finally say, watching Pyre stir the faintly pink water with a metal spoon from his bag. “You mentioned bad decisions, and I’m not wise enough to leave it well alone. What are all these ‘bad decisions’ that drive you out into the tundra for an entire season? And, I can’t not clarify, were they flings?”

Pyre stares at you, eyes gleaming in the firelight, his too wide jaw falling open due to your blunt questions. When he laughs this time, it’s a sharp bark and more fox-like than human. “Oh, you are one of them. Much more perceptive than many of the others.” He licks his lips, still human-smooth, but his ears have grown longer. They’re peeking out from the sides of his head, poking through his hair now. “Some of them were flings. Some of them were just… A way to stave off loneliness, even if they were unpleasant.”

“And where am I falling on that scale?”

Pyre arches a thicker brow, baring his sharp teeth in a slightly eerie smile. “I wouldn’t be opposed to a fling with someone like you, but your companionship is more than enough if that’s all you want to give.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Then how, exactly, am I a ‘bad decision’? Making friends isn’t a bad thing, is it?”

Pyre’s smile wavers. “No, no it isn’t.” He looks away, into the middle of the fire, where the charmed match is still blazing like a seed of flame. “The bad decision is that my loneliness drives me to go looking in the first place.”

You let a few moments pass in relative silence, puzzling over his words. It sounds more than strange, but you can’t put your finger on why. “What does that mean?” You finally ask, noting the way he’s digging his nails into his thighs.

He looks back at you. “Anyone who wanders out here is an offering, of sorts. To help bear the brunt of winter. The tours… They’re more like a ritual than those guides of yours realize.”

Your head feels strangely empty. Ritual, he’d said. Slowly, you think back to the myths linked to the tundra, to the Mirrored Teeth, to the folktales attached to cities and Serpent Towers. There had been something about bearing the brunt of winter, holding it back from sweeping over the land…

“Your time here will be no more than the three days I promised. You will be taken back to the Slavering, with only this time gone from the memories of others, and I will do nothing but what I promise: to lead you back, if that is all you desire.” Pyre creeps closer, long arms and long fingers bracing himself on the dirt. All it takes is a single stretch and he’s by your side, towering over you in his half shifted form. “The bad decision was that I was given the right to choose without any warning. That I could only claim those I charmed away.”

“You charmed me?” You whisper.

“You heard my voice,” Pyre explains and your heart beats painfully in your chest. He is why people vanish from the tours and come back tired and dirty but… But most of them come back unharmed.

“What happens to those that don’t make it back?” You ask, trying to quell your panic.

Pyre’s shoulders hunch. “Sometimes people react poorly, and they run. Running in the fog is never wise.”

“How am I… How am I supposed to help you keep winter from swallowing the world?”

Pyre barks out another laugh, though he’s grimacing. “Those years I don’t have a companion, winter escapes my hold. It’s much easier to keep in check with help.”

“Helping how?” You ask, voice going brittle.

“Companionship. You’re already bound to the three days,” he says quietly, nodding his head to the pot of slow boiling bearberries on the fire. “You ate three of them. If…. If you choose to help, to spend the winter with me, then you can drink. You’ll be with me through the entire season—”

“Out in the middle of the tundra, with nothing but a tarp and an evening's supply of food?” You ask, getting to your feet. You take a step away from the fire, nervous energy making you move, and then freeze when you hear a far off voice again. You glance down at Pyre, angry and convinced it must be him, but then you recognize it. The voice, low and soft as it echoes strangely through the fog, is you.

“The voices are possibilities only,” Pyre says, talking over the needy sounding moan. It vanishes, like nothing more than smoke on a fast moving breeze. “And I would take you back to my home, I wouldn’t make you wander out here and sleep on the freezing ground!” Pyre starts to get to his feet and then thinks better of it. He stays where he is, looking up at you, holding out a hand. “If you drink, all I require is companionship. Loneliness lets the ice creep further out, but friendship, or, or anger or passion keeps it at bay. With your help I can bind the overflow of ice in the teeth. But if three days is all you’ll allow, then I’ll find another, I promise. You’ll be free of this, and you’ll forget this ever happened.”

You’re out in the middle of the tundra, wreathed in magical fog and standing before a shifter, a… a spirit? A deity? That keeps winter at bay. You did want magic, didn’t you? You ask yourself. You look down to his open hand, brown palm calloused, nails long and sharp, white fox fur growing longer along his arm.

“No one will even notice I’ve been gone?”

“You’ll be lost in the fog for three days, according to them. What life you’ve missed will feel like a blink, but no. They won’t realize you’ll have been gone for the entire winter.” Pyre’s mouth closes, stubbled throat working as he swallows.

Slowly, you sit back down, picking up the glazed green mug and holding it out for Pyre to fill. “The winter then. If we end up hating one another? You have no one to blame but yourself.”

Pyre doesn’t answer, but he watches like a predator after he fills the mug with bearberry tea, copper eyes caught on your lips. You finish half the cup, and what chill lingered in your bones slowly fades away. Carefully, Pyre takes the cup back and downs the rest, long tongue licking stray droplets off of his lips.

————-　🦊　————-

You travel with Pyre for three days before you reach the banks of the Slavering, only when you do, the tour guides aren’t waiting for you. This is where the Slavering begins, the thick snowmelt coming off of the high mountaintops and rolling down through the craggy rocks to make a river. There’s a cave entrance not far from the rapids, covered over with weeds and just large enough for Pyre to stoop over and fit into. You stop at the entrance, with him close behind you, and stare into the far off dark.

“It’s not like a dungeon in there, is it?”

Pyre grumbles, somewhere between indignation and a laugh. “You always know just what to say. No, it’s not like a dungeon. There’s plenty of modern day amenities inside. I’m a shifter, not a beast.”

Cautiously, still not entirely trusting him, you head inside. It’s dark at first, and earthy smelling, just like a cave, but then Pyre strikes another one of his charmed matches and pulls you to the side so he can lead. There’s a lamp up ahead, the frosted glass globe just big enough for Pyre to reach in and set the match. Heat and light seem to roll through the entire area, a locked, wooden door revealing itself to the side of the lamp. The cave floor, still cold and a bit damp, is actually stones, pieced together into what looks like a strange little map. You frown down at the stones, eyes tracing the edges of a single, deep blue vein, wondering why the chips of pale rock surrounding it strike you as strange.

“The Teeth,” you murmur suddenly. “You have a map of the teeth in front of your door?” Some of the spots are much smaller than others, more like a pinprick of pale stone as opposed to some of the hefty chips. If you unfocus your eyes, the map looks like a reflection of the stars.

“Magic,” Pyre explains, though he doesn’t sound pleased with his own answer. “There’s plenty to talk about when it comes to the Teeth, and the voices, just… Let’s go inside. It’s going to start snowing soon.”

When he opens the door, all the lamps inside are lit. Much like Pyre himself, his decor is frayed and worn down. There are heavy furs on the walls, and tapestries too, both simple and grand, but fragile looking. There are furs on some of the furniture as well. There’s a large stone fireplace, with hooks over the mantle made of horn and a set of stone stairs that curve out of sight. There’s no sign of things like phones or televisions, but you feel like you should have expected that. Companionship through a screen probably didn't fulfill the parameters of his… his curse?

That’s something you decide to ask about later. After all, you have the rest of the winter to spend with him, and he explained plenty over the three day trip to the mountain. The teeth are made of contained winter. The larger the teeth are, the more someone helped Pyre through that season. Through friendship, or anger, or passion, they melted the ice and snow. Pyre would take the melt and bind it in magic-made spires, but he couldn’t build on only one. Each spire was the product of a different person, each fling or friend made or fight had melted the snow at different rates. If your help has already begun, then you know some of the snow must have melted already due to your anger over the past few days, but it’s not something you think you can hold onto. Pyre tricked you into the three days, gave you the bearberries and bid you eat if you were hungry. You’d eaten three of them. The rest of the winter though? That you chose yourself. At least for a while, you’re ready to try and enjoy a little bit of the magic, keeping back winter or no.

“It’s not quite past midday,” Pyre says quietly, voice a strange melding of fox and man. “If you’d like food, I will make it for you. If you’d like a rest, I’ll show you to your room.”

“My room?” You ask, only sounding mildly sarcastic.

Pyre narrows those coppery eyes of his. “Sometimes I think you say these things on purpose. Yes. Your room.” He heads for the staircase, his toenails clicking on the stone floor before he reaches the layers of rugs, the soft padding of his feet on them makes you smile. “I would hardly complain if you decided to join me in mine, but even so, you will have your own space.” He tosses his head, earrings catching in his hair and then vanishes up the stairs.

You move at a much more sedate pace, still examining your surroundings. There’s a very old looking table, covered with the remnants of a puzzle that looks to be from forty years ago at least. There’s a rack of old bottles, some of them look like wine, but others are clearly beer, and still others look like glass bottles of soda, the liquid half evaporated. Pyre’s house is going to be a treasure trove of history, of things left behind by others. The winter is going to be very long, you’re certain, but it won’t be forever. All of the people that left these things behind have obviously left and returned to their homes. You turn on your heel, slip your bag off of your shoulders and leave it at the foot of the stairs. You can come back for it later.

The lamps, all seemingly lit from that single charmed match, spiral up the staircase. There aren’t any doors that open up off the sides, only a hallway at the very top and three open doors leading to the far end. The first one you pass is a bathroom, with a large tub carved out of the stone of the mountain. There are elderly looking cupboards in there, and what looks like a wood burning stove, though it’s empty. The toilet, you assume, is behind the drawscreen, and when you peek your head farther in, there’s also a shining, copper mirror hanging on the wall. The second room is where Pyre is, hands fussing over the thick curtains around the bed. There’s a fireplace against the wall, and a nightstand next to the bed, and more furs draped over a chair made of wood and horn in the corner. There’s a worn desk, obviously hand-made by someone unskilled, but a beautiful bookcase next to it, filled with books in various states of wear. Some of the spines are cracked, but others still are pristine. To the right of the bed, there’s a single paned window. Snow is coating the sill outside, thick flurries weighing down the weeds that are growing in the cracked stone.

Despite the magic, despite the voices and his promise, it still hadn’t felt quite so real, wandering through the tundra with him. He’d said the snow would be coming down soon though.

“It’s lovely,” you answer, honestly, even if not everything is to your taste. It almost makes you want to laugh though, because it definitely looks like it’s somewhere removed from the normal world, some kind of strange mish-mash of time periods all pressed into a two story place. You wonder, without Pyre, would anyone ever find this place?

“Parts of it,” Pyre says, strange looking hands pausing in their tying of the curtains. He’s looking at the headboard, you realize. There’s a faint gouge in the dark wood, but it doesn’t look like it was from Pyre. It looks like a very human scratch. Warmth crawls over the back of your neck, though you’re not sure whether it’s embarrassment or eagerness. You’d been feeling a healthy dose of attraction with Pyre before he told you about everything, and it had taken a bit to sort through your feelings on the matter, even with you making the final choice to come here. You still don’t know how things will continue, but for now…

“Let me see what I can do to help make a few more lovely memories then,” you say suddenly. Heat is pulsing through you now, warming your cheeks and the tips of your ears and zinging down along your spine. Pyre’s head snaps to the side to find your hands working slowly at your clothes. He doesn’t move any further, doesn’t even tip back his head, just stares at you over the crest of his shoulder, pupils swallowing down the copper of his irises.

“If—you don’t have to do anything,” he insists, and his tail swishes, slowly, just the once. It doesn’t bristle out as it had when you’d first spotted him.

Your coat drops to the floor, and his eyes follow it. “I know. We were flirting though, before you told me about all of this, and I still…” You glance away, only for your eyes to snap back to Pyre as he drags his patched suit jacket off of his shoulders.

He slows when he realizes you’re watching, but doesn’t stop. A slow grin pulls at the corners of his wide mouth. “You still want to feel magic?” He taunts, and laughs when you roll your eyes. He stops laughing when the rest of your clothes hit the floor, the hint of a whine escaping him when you take a step closer, shivering when you feel the temperature of the stone on your bare feet. “My room,” Pyre says roughly, though you can’t tear your eyes away from him. He’s still a wonderfully strange mix of man and fox. His face is still humanoid, with lips and stubbled cheeks, and so is the shape of his shoulders through his holey t-shirt. There’s soft curls of hair peeking out of the stretched neck of his shirt, but along the backs of his arms it looks more like fur and his feet are still wholly canine. His tails, tails plural, are starting to grow longer too, and you recall the way he’d seemed to coalesce into one person when the fog had rolled back.

Pyre crosses the room, hesitating before he places his hands on your shoulders, thumbnails scratching gently at your bare skin. The chill of the room had been seeping into you, but at his touch, warmth chases it all away. When you slide your hands up his chest, Pyre’s eyes fall closed, gray lashes bright against his skin. “M’ room,” he repeats again, but pulls you into a kiss as he tows you out the door. There’s no more time for examining the hallway or the knick-knacks he might be keeping in his own space. There’s his lips and his stubble scratching at your skin and his hands splayed over the back of your neck and the base of your spine. He coaxes you into his room with deep, slow kisses that leave your head spinning, whispering things that make your pulse speed. “Want, want the smell of you on my sheets,” he says against your neck, dragging sharp teeth carefully over your throat. He growls when your hands dip to undo his trousers, your thumb following the trail of hair that vanishes beneath his underwear. “If this is, if it’s—”

“I agreed to the winter,” you remind him and then he’s turning you and letting you fall back onto his bed. You have a moment to register soft fur, and crocheted blankets, and comforters too, before Pyre is pulling his shirt off and tossing it across the room. He wrestles with the rest of his clothes, leaving you another moment to admire him. The hair on his chest and trailing down his abdomen looks human, much coarser than the fur on his arms and below his knees. Between his legs is a thick cock, hard and beginning to leak, with a small bulge near the base of him, and then your gaze is drawn back up as he crawls onto the bed, moving much slower than he had in the hall. He doesn’t press, doesn’t rush, just leans his body over yours to kiss you again, careful with his teeth. He groans when you reach up and tug at his braid, pulling the rough tie away and tossing it to the side. You comb your fingers through his hair, tangling your fingers in it to keep him kissing you and tense when his cock slides over your thigh, hot and hard and enough to make you buck up, already seeking friction. Pyre kisses you until you’re breathless, leaving you sucking at your own lips and trying to calm yourself as he urges you further up the bed, back to a veritable nest of pillows.

He isn’t slow when he settles himself between your legs, hands curling around your thighs and pushing them carefully back towards your chest. He isn’t slow when he drags his tongue over you, hot and slick and slightly rough. He’s careful as he can be with his teeth, but there are a few pinches that make you gasp and tremble. He laves his tongue over them, soothing the sting, but his nails are pressing hard into your skin and you’re fairly certain you’re going to bruise, simply from the continued pressure. Pyre is noisy too, whining and groaning as he tastes you, as you do your best to rock yourself against his tongue, hand tugging at his hair while he sucks and eats. The ache of orgasm, painful-but-sweet, is starting to build, starting to make you tense everytime he opens his jaw, teeth dragging over tender skin, leaving you wet and shuddering. He huffs when you whimper, and pulls away before you can come, copper eyes as bright as flame when he moves to sit back against his headboard. The loss of him feels sudden, and the cold is sharp without his warmth against you.

“That was on purpose,” you murmur. Pyre arches a brow, trying to keep from smiling when you scowl at his crooking finger. You still get up, on shaking knees and gasp when he tugs you over and onto his lap, your back against his chest, cock slick and sticky against your ass.

“I want to feel everything when you shake apart,” he murmurs, hand splaying over your sternum as he helps you arrange your legs. By the time you’re straddling his thighs, his fingertips are dipping into the hollow of your throat and his cock is rutting against your thigh and every part of you is on edge, desperate for more. You’d been so close. Pyre licks at the side of your throat, pressing his hand harder against your chest to keep your back still. “Lift your hips,” he urges, and takes his cock in hand, dragging the head over you as you do your best to listen. Like fitting a key into a lock, Pyre finds the correct angle, breathing raggedly as you press yourself down. As soon as you’ve taken enough of him, he lets go of himself and then presses on the top of your thighs, making you gasp out his name as you take him in deeper. He eases off after a moment, letting you adjust, letting you wriggle and groans out your name roughly as you do your best to ride him.

You think for a moment about saying something, about teasing him or trying to rile him up, but it’s all you can do to keep up what rhythm you have, heart beating terribly fast against the hand he has on your chest. He lets you move, lets you reach back and clutch at the messy locks of his hair, his breath warm against your throat and the top of your shoulder and then Pyre pushes roughly against your thigh again, thrusting up until his knot is grinding against you. “Fuck, fuck, Pyre, that—”

“Too much?” He asks, waiting while you shake, trying to steady your breath. You’re probably going to ache later, probably won’t want to do much but doze or take a bath in that massive stone tub, but right now? Right now you want to be greedy.

“More,” you get out and Pyre laughs, that eerie, fox-like noise echoing in your ear as he teases you with the knot, pressing you down and then pulling back his hips. Pillows cascade off the edges of the bed, spilling over the floor. You start squeezing, doing your best to drive him over the edge, so sensitive it almost hurts. “Please,” you whisper and then you’re too busy for speech. His knot stretches you and his hand dips between your thighs, stroking and his fingers press into the base of your throat. He’s not choking you, but he’s starting to squeeze and then you’re coming. Pleasure washes over you in a fierce, pulsing ache that shoots down to your toes and fountains back up your body. You shout out his name and shake in his arms, eyes falling closed as his knot expands, locking you in place. Your eyes flutter open and closed and drift to a steamed up window, much like the one in your own room. Weeds are still poking up through the cracks, but now it’s not snowing outside, it’s raining.

Pyre turns his nose to the space behind your ear, breathing deep, his own limbs growing loose. “The winter might well be softer this year,” Pyre mumbles, voice raspy, his hand smoothing down your sternum and over your hips. “And I have you to thank for that.”

“We still have the rest of the winter ahead of us,” you remind him, but you’re too sleepy to argue with him any further. Whether you end up enjoying the rest of your time here, you do know one thing: Passion will definitely be a huge part of fulfilling your bargain for the winter.

————-　🦊　————-

[tommybaholland]

Hellooo! Can I request Haru, Asahi Shiina, Ikuya and Kisumi HCs with a really ticklish S/O please? :)

s/o who’s really ticklish

featuring: haruka nanase, asahi shiina, ikuya kirishima, and kisumi shigino

a request for the free boys...i am loving it. enjoy!

haruka 

he had never really considered tickling you, or that you were even ticklish in the first place

he is someone who is slow to warm up with physical affection so the thought of sensually touching you was beyond him at one point

but he did think your hugs were warm and holding your hand put him at ease

when he discovered that you were ticklish, it was at a rather unexpected time

it happened while he was kissing you, in fact

the first few times he had kissed you were rather awkward on his part due to not knowing where to put his hands

this time, he felt bold and secure enough to take his hand that was holding yours, travel it up your arm, over your shoulder, aiming to caress the back of your neck

his hand gently brushing over the side of your neck made you giggle against his lips and shrug your shoulder, causing you to pull away from the kiss 

he was so into the moment that he didn’t know what had happened

“what’s so funny?”

you reassure him that you’re ticklish in that spot where your neck meets your shoulder 

you then tell him that you liked that kiss and now all he wants to do is try to impress you once more

“i think i could do it again.”

unfortunately, he keeps finding all your ticklish spots while he’s kissing you

now he really doesn’t know what to do with his hands

so far, it seems like your back, sides, and neck are no-goes 

you tell him that you’ll get used to it eventually 

but much to his surprise, he thinks of other ways he can hold you while kissing 

right now, he enjoys pulling you in by your elbow and wrapping an arm around your shoulder while his other hand either stays put on your forearm or will move up to caress your cheek 

now you just have to ask makoto or rin where all of his tickle spots are

asahi

he’s known for being positive, even when hitting a mental block

and he’s there to boost others’ confidence too 

so having him as a boyfriend when you’re feeling down or needing some comfort is the best thing in the world

he would definitely threaten to tickle you to try to cheer you up while holding you in his arms

“how about some tickles?? okay. *snorts* sorry, sorry. you’re not in the mood for tickles.” 

but for real, he’ll hold you and rub your back and tell you how proud he is of you 

you’ll squirm a bit in his hold from the tingles going down your back

“is my hand on your back tickling you? i promise i’m not doing it on purpose haha.”

he likes to get a little sentimental during these moments

“do you remember when i would run my hand up and down your back when we first started dating? and you have this little spot between your shoulders--”

and he presses in a tender spot that makes you squirm and giggle a bit, even though it actually kinda hurts a little

“i’m sorry, babe. i don’t mean to hurt you. i just like messing with you.” 

he goes on to talk about how he likes to do it when you’re napping or sleeping together and you’re having trouble falling asleep 

he thinks it’s nice seeing you so calm and peaceful

he also enjoys tracing down your arm over your lower back, his fingertips just barely touching the skin to make goosebumps pop up

he might like that just a little more than actually tickling you

he’s not super aggressive with his tickles and likes to be as discrete as possible

he strikes most often when you’re wearing more loose-fit clothing and while you’re cuddling and watching something 

he sneaks a hand under your shirt to tickle your sides ever so lightly with his fingers 

your reaction is astronomical compared to his touch but he’s always apologetic about it when you try to sit as far away from him as possible 

ikuya 

he takes things very seriously and your relationship is no exception

so tickles from him are not that common, or at least they weren’t 

you’ve seen how fun and playful he can be and you felt like the transition into a romantic relationship might have been putting a lot of pressure on him

it’s nice that he wanted to do everything right and be a good partner to you

but you wanted him to loosen up just a little and act like his normal self around you 

one time you were just sitting at home with him and discussing what to do for dinner

you wanted to cook but there’s a small disagreement on who should make what

he claims that everything he makes is amazing meanwhile yours is just ‘okay’

he finally agrees to let you make your favorite dinner with him helping you

you then decide to smack him lightly with one of the pillows on the couch

he looks over to you, both confused and shocked 

“baby, why would you hit me with a pillow? i said we could make what you want-- ow! okay. give me that--”

a pillow fight has now ensued

you hit him pretty hard in the face, which causes him to tackle you into the couch, laying on top of you, and tickling you

“yeah. this is what you get for hitting me so hard in the face.”

when you start pushing him off, he grabs your wrists and pins you down, his whole weight now fully on top of you

you start pouting and call him a big jerk 

he’s really enjoying the turn that your little ploy has taken

“oh, i’m the jerk? what about the jerk who was hitting me with a pillow, hm? no. i think i’ll lay on you for a little longer.”

then he starts leaving kisses starting at your jaw and going down your neck

“you know, you look really hot right now.”

now THIS is the ikuya you wanted to see

kisumi

he likes knowing everything about you

including your tickle spots

and he’s been wanting to know about them since practically day one

there’s no doubt that his love language is physical touch

but obviously, he would respect your boundaries and wouldn’t cross them if it made you uncomfortable

fortunately, he’s a very easygoing and bright person so it was easy to get physically comfortable and closer to him

and he just thinks you are so cute, especially when you’re laughing and he’s laughing and you’re both just enjoying each other

he likes to surprise you by grabbing your waist from behind

“hey, gorgeous.”

and then tickling you even more by kissing your neck

he finds that you’re ticklish in cute but rather peculiar places

giving you head rubs, particularly right in the top of your head, makes you shiver and wiggle a little from the sensation you feel on your scalp

and then when he’s kissing all over your face, usually when you’re in bed together and he starts nibbling on your cheekbones

“oh, does it tickle when i do that?” and will continue to do it after you nod

and if there are times when you don’t want to be tickled but still need some attention, he takes some advice from his good friend, asahi

he also likes having more peaceful and relaxed moments with you where he’s just barely tracing your skin with his fingertips

he’s the type that likes to draw shapes or write words on your back

but sometimes it tickles too much that you can’t even guess what he’s drawing or writing

so then he’ll just do it on your cheek

but then that’ll just turn into him giving you more kisses because you are the light of his life

wyd, wild card night?? maybe sending a request perhaps..