everydaybayarea

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖙 [Final]

They told you to be careful with him, that he's much more than meets the eye, but you'd been convinced that you had him all figured out; all bark and no bite, just like any other big buff alpha you've met before. Oh how wrong you were.

Tags/Warnings: werewolf!kook, Alpha!kook, werewolf!reader, omega!reader, fluff, biting, manhandling, Dom!Jungkook, protected sex (an implant is mentioned we practice safe sex even in our imagination after all), Size kink because it's me writing this get over it, strength kink because it's me writing this get over it², drooling oops, scratching, knotting, happy ending Yay

Length: ~4k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Do not expect anything groundbreaking. I didn't know how to end this.

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Inside Jungkook’s cabin, you’re safe.

Here it’s warm, it smells like him and now, slowly but surely, yourself as well. It’s comfortable, you’re protected, and held gently by him right by your side. Here is where you actually want to live forever, inside, even if you were never allowed to leave ever again. The woods around you don’t matter, nor does your freedom-

All you want, and really need, is in here.

There’s a low, almost purring sound coming from the alpha behind you, his arms wrapping around you a bit tighter, as if he remembers in his waking moments that you’re actually still here, and not just a product of his imagination. He takes in a deep breath before he stretches his legs once, kissing the back of your shoulder, halfway still asleep.

Even so, with how close he is behind your body, you can clearly feel that something else about him is waking up as well.

You teasingly press yourself into him, which almost instantly gives you a response- his tender kisses turning into bites, as he scolds you non-verbally, even when his mind isn’t quite conscious yet. “Good morning.” He mumbles, laughs a bit when you turn around in his arms to cuddle right back into him, yawning once. “Slept well?” he mumbles, and you nod.

He can sense that you’re very happy in here, and he takes great pride in that- feeling good with the fact that you’ve obviously accepted his home as yours too.

But there’s also something else you seem to seek right now, as you place your own kisses against his neck, trying to somehow swoon him into a response again, maybe to finally receive his love in a more physical way. And he wants that too- but not right now. He wants to be fully awake and alert for an experience like that, and not somewhat semi-conscious like right now.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t allow to play with you a little bit.

When your hands begin to travel over his body, he doesn’t object that at all- simply watches with hooded, halfway opened eyes how you blindly reach for him, hand over his already sensitive length inside his underwear a little hesitant, unsure, but curious all the same. It’s the first time you’re the one initiating something actively- usually, you only really give him a sign, before letting him do most of the active play. But maybe because you feel so safe and comfortable in his home, you also feel more confident in your actions-

Or your patience is simply wearing thin at this point.

Either way, he thoroughly enjoys your touch fully, even adjusting his legs beneath the blankets to instead move to lay on his back, making you move around to leave him alone for just a moment- before you lay yourself over him, warm core right above his only somewhat hidden length. The fact that only some thin, fragile clothing separates you both from one another makes him sensitive- the thought of how easy it would be to just rip those poor items of clothing at their seams to provide him access to you enough to cause him to stir a little beneath you.

His hands automatically find your waist before he wraps his arms around you again, moving them again to hold your face and kiss you, still somewhat tired. You remember your first kiss, yesterday, almost entirely without any thought- and ever since then, it’s clear that he really enjoys having his lips on yours. He’s also been going further and further with you- and the line has been blurring more and more, as he accepts and provides more intimate touches every single time you’re together in such a way. From his more fleeting touches back at your old pack’s house, to what you are doing right now- your core pressing against his length, shamelessly humping him beneath all the heavy blankets, desperate for him to feel just as much as you do.

And he does feel it.

His hands move again as you kiss him a lot more desperately now, running over your sides before they rest over your behind, grabbing the flesh just to let go right after. You sigh in bliss, lean into him as you move your hips a bit harsher, chasing your release, and subsequently also pushing him towards his own. He can only imagine what it will be like once he has you close like this without anything between you both- just two bodies connecting in the most intimate of ways, finalizing their bond with one another.

His eyes close as he feels his own peak approaching, your hips stuttering as he grabs your behind once again, forcing you to keep moving keep pushing him over the edge while you ride out your own high, underwear absolutely soaked in your essence, before he spills his seed as well.

He could happily just keep it at this, and he’d still be satisfied with it, he’s sure of it.

You both lay just like that a little longer, both bathing in your shared afterglow, as well as the closeness you both feel for just a bit more. You notice how he’s clearly waking up now, eyes opening up more as he watches you become more and more aware as well, sleep leaving your body with every waking moment that passes by. “Jungkook?” You ask, and he hums a reply, smiling softly at you. “I noticed.. Your eyes.” You mention, and he nods, urging you to continue. “Why do they always show the golden ring?” You wonder, finally remembering to ask him about it.

It’s been on your mind for quite some time now- but up until now, you never really got around to ask for it. And you also didn’t want to ask around, in case its something personal- you rather ask him yourself like this, and have him explain something curious like this. Maybe it’s just a random anomaly? Some birth defect, or just a hiccup of nature?

“I’m.. What’s called moonlit.” He explains, brushing some of your hair from your shoulder. “I was born on a full moon, to explain it simply. Which both.. Caused my eyes to kind of get ‘stuck’ in this state, and also my.. Senses to stay heightened.” He says, and you nod.

“So.. What I for example experience during a full moon..” You start, and he smiles.

“I basically live that every day.” He finishes, telling you that your thought’s are correct. And you feel a bit bad for him- because you know you struggle hard during that time to really handle yourself and your inner instincts. To think that he’s basically always battling them gives you a different point of view almost, like you’re seeing him from a different perspective now. “I’ve grown used to it though.” He says, as if he can read your mind. “I’ve.. Come to accept that as a part of me. It’s annoying sometimes, it really is- but it’s not like I can change it. So why bother getting frustrated over it?” He chuckles, and you nod. “Also makes me kind of special, so that’s cool too.” He jokes, before you lean into him, clinging to him.

“You’re already special to me.” You tell him. “Even if you weren’t born like this.” You say, and you can’t see it-

But he actually blushes a little, caught off guard by your honest words.

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You're getting to know these woods surprisingly quickly in his opinion- and he also notices quite quickly, that you’re a lot more independent than the wolves in his pack usually tend to be.

His pack is a very tight knit community, and everyone almost clings to someone- friends stay in groups, socializing is a big thing, and no one is ever alone. But you tend to even escape some settings as if you can’t handle being around others for long- making him worried that something might be troubling you. “how come you’re by yourself?” He asks as he sits down next to you on the large tree truck that’s been made into a bench for people to sit around the large fire pit. It’s nighttime, cicadas singing and owls howling in the distance, while everyone’s busy either talking, or getting ready for bed, as they all participate in some proper bonding activities. Some have shifted, and are grooming each other, while others are in their human form still just like you and Jungkook, casually talking.

“I just.. I don’t know.” You shrug. “I’m not lonely though! I just like to be by myself.” You explain, and he nods.

“I’ll have to believe that, I guess.” He admits defeat playfully, before he pulls you closer to him as you both watch the fire in front of you.

“You can go to your friends, you know?” You giggle. “no need to babysit me.”

“Oh but I want to!” He denies. “I love being close to you. Do you want some space?” He offers, unsure now. Maybe he’s been pushing himself onto you?

“No, It’s fine.” You shake your head however, pacifying his worries. “I like being close to you, too.” You admit, leaning into him while he purrs in utter happiness.

He knows it can’t be easy to just start living in a different place, all with different people and different surroundings too. But you seem to take it easy, even coming out of your shell a little, here and there. It’s obvious you still have to learn a lot more about his pack and all its habits and customs, but you’ll get there, Jungkook is sure of that.

You belong at his side, after all. He’d even start a new pack if he had to in order to keep you at his side.

Back in your now shared cabin, Jungkook is instantly all over you again. You’ve noticed that he’s been getting more and more.. needy almost for this kind of affection, and you figure it might be because the full moon is soon approaching. “I though you’re.. always stuck in your moon-phase?” You giggle when he nips at the crook of your neck where his mark is yet to be placed.

“doesn’t mean I don’t feel it’s effects weighing down on me harder the more the moon shows herself.” He growls into your skin, shamelessly running his tongue over the spot before he kisses it.

“Jungkook..-“ you gasp, but he doesn’t let you speak much further.

“I dont think I can wait.” He sighs out, and you now notice the way his hands seem to be trembling on your skin. “I don’t think I can take another night.” He admits, and you feel for him.

Being stuck in the moon-phase is one thing- having your chosen mate being dangled in front of you while having to keep your hands to yourself must be agonizing, especially now. You have an implant which prevents your heat and possible pregnancy, but that doesn’t mean the moon doesn’t enhance your scent and appeal to him.

“You think the moon will.. look away for a second?” You giggle, and he growls again, feeling oddly vulnerable. “I don’t mind if you take me tonight.” You offer, and at that, he pushes you backwards, before you’re handled impatiently into the nest he’d made for you and him, every pillow in his way kicked out without any mercy. His eyes are entirely golden now, proving how he’s slowly taken over by the wolfblood in his veins, and you feel for him. It must be tough having to somehow keep yourself in check all day long, every day. But that’s the reason wolves aren’t supposed to mate during certain times of the year, just so something like Jungkook can’t happen- because every other person would’ve probably not be able to restrain themselves to such a degree he’s able to.

“I think she’ll make an exception for us.” You tell him, as he boldly grips your clothes to just rip them open, uncaring of ruining the items. And the sheer display of strength and force does something to you- a submissive but clearly not fearful whimper escaping you, not going unnoticed by the alpha currently sitting above your body.

He leans down to kiss you with no care for staying tame or controlled, tongue running over your bottom lip before he dives back in, quite literally stealing your breath. His hands are meanwhile busy exploring your exposed skin, digging out your breasts from your underwear to grab at them, thumb flicking your already hardened buds.

If it’s supposed to work up your appetite for him, it’s clearly working.

He’s eager in shedding his own clothes, skin and ink revealed to you as his muscles flex under the moonlight bleeding in through the gaps in the curtains covering the windows. His hardened length is already leaking, right onto your lower stomach, so close to where you want him most. He knows he can just take you however he pleases. You’ve talked about this before, and you’re glad he did.

Because you know, in this moment, he will not hold back. The need to fill you up and claim you as his too much to handle, especially not with you so ready and eagerly waiting beneath him.

He pushes his own legs against yours, forcing yours to move up and expose yourself more to him, limbs resting over his thighs as be ruts against your already wet core. He purrs lowly against your neck, gripping your wrists to push them into the bed below, before you feel the head of his cock prod at your entrance. Even in times like this he seems to find pleasure in teasing you, as he never pushes further, never gives you what you want until you’re whimpering again, quietly begging for him to just take you.

And he grants you that whish, finally slipping inside, as far as he can go before you jump a little in discomfort. He waits for you to adjust, makes sure to reassure you with kisses and comforting touches, before he notices you moving to see if you’re ready.

And once he knows you are, he finally begins his chase.

As if he’s finally breathing freely, he’s able to let go of his own shackles he’s put on himself for a moment, releasing all the pent up energy he’s been bottling up over the course of time. He usually runs it off or works out until his body gives up, but with you, he’s potentially found a new way to vent it all out. Because he can feel that you’re truly meant for him. A mate chosen by the moon herself, perfectly fit to handle him and his instincts.

You’re turned around for easier handling, and you don’t even bother thinking about anything anymore, simply giving yourself into his hands- hands that are more than eager to hold and grab at any flesh they can touch. You can feel his canine teeth in the skin of your neck, biting, eager to mark you up before he finalizes the bond with a final bite placed in a spot he himself will choose. Where will he place it?

You’ll soon find out.

But right now he’s busy pressing his hips into you as far as he can go, your body continuously rocking back and forth under the force of his thrusts, while his fingers dig into the skin of your waist to keep you in place. But they wander, eager to explore and hold, unsure even in where they want to stay and how they want to move you. And so one of his hands moves to hold you upright against him, back arched as one of his palms holds your neck to have your head next to his, mind intoxicated by your scent so close.

The sounds are obscene, but neither of you have any energy in your brains left to really care about that.

You don’t even realize the saliva that’s dripping down your chin, but he definitely does- the sight of you so entirely out of your mind doing something to him on a primal level. He’s got you entirely under his control, and he knows to value this as a giant sign of trust towards him- trust that he’s not ever going to throw away, no matter what. Because with the way the can feel his body start to exhaust, a unique and new feeling he’s not yet felt like this before, he knows that you’re truly it for him.

His one and only. There’s no one else he’d rather have.

So his bite is placed, teeth digging into your flesh, once, twice, and one more time to truly seal the bond forever. Your body shudders in pleasure, hands reaching onto nothingness before you find his thighs, accidentally scratching his skin- but he doesn’t mind one bit.

Instead, he can feel the way he reaches his peak, moment of bliss completely blinding him for a moment as he holds you close, pushing himself in deep to make sure that you don’t spill a single drop of his release.

And you can’t- not with the way his knot locks you both into place, two bodies breathing heavily with exhaustion, laying closely together while you try and come back down from your high.

The afterglow you both share is blissful, no thoughts in your minds as Jungkook carefully nurses the wound he created, arms keeping you close while he still occasionally twitches inside you. Slowly you pull a stray pillow closer to you, hiding your face in it in shame as you realize the way you just acted like a bitch in heat- but he doesn’t like the way you’re trying to shy away from him. His hand pulls the pillow away before he kisses your neck and cheek, careful not to move too much with his knot still inside you, potentially hurting you if he was to somehow move too quickly.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, sensing your embarrassment, voice a bit hoarse as he speaks. “Are you not happy?” He worries, but you shake your head.

“I am.” You say. “It’s just..” You drift off, shivering a little as your skin begins to cool down again, something he immediately notices as his hands reach out to a blanket close by, which he puts over your body the best he can. He himself is still high when it comes to body temperature- normal with wolves, so its not surprising.

“You were very attractive.” He teases almost, running his nose over the crook of your neck, careful to avoid your bonding mark for now until it’s healed. “You’ll always be. Don’t even worry about that.” He reassures you, having realized what you must be so shy about. “Even now I can barely keep my hands to myself..” He purrs, and you whine.

“You’re still inside!” You complain, thinking he might just be playing around- but he’s twitching again, making it clear that he isn’t just teasing you. At least, not entirely.

“How can a man be so easily satiated with a mate like that?” He tells you, no question asked even though it’s masked as one. You already realize that there’s something.. New about him. The way he speaks, the ease in which he touches, breathing slow and steady. Like he’s breathing freely for once, no need for always having his guard up just in case.

Is it just the exhaustion? Or something else?

“Hm, I want to stay here forever.” He purrs, nuzzling closer to you.

“But we should at least clean up.” You giggle, noticing the way he softens up inside you, slowly slipping out of you. It’s an odd feeling, and it’s not entirely pleasant, but all good things must come to an end at some point. “Now, preferably. Before you’ll fall asleep on me, big bad dog.” You tease, and he gently nips at your neck where you’re not injured, a very distinctive playfulness in his mood, even though you’re both tired.

“What if I’ll take you in the shower again, while we clean up?” He suggests, and you laugh, finally able to get yourself into a seating position again, ready to escape him into the shower-

But he’s hot on your heels, not yet ready to call it a night just yet.

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“I heard Yoongis mate has returned to him.” Jungkook says, as you’re both laying inside his cabin, fireplace warming everything up and spending a soft, golden light. He’s just returned from a small trip back to your former pack’s home- a standard routine, now that you’ve been ‘exchanged’ for Seokjin’s mate.

He’s got to basically always give Yoongi an update on you and your wellbeing until one full year has passed, and you’ve been fully introduced to the new pack.

“Really? Where was she?” You wonder, head resting on his chest while he holds your hand in his, both of you watching the small flames eat away at the wood he’s fed into the fireplace earlier.

“An accident, he’d said.” Jungkook informs you. “She’s.. Lost all her memories.” He reveals, and you feel for Yoongi. Losing a mate is already painful enough- but being re-introduced just to realize they don’t remember you at all must be like losing them twice.

“Oh no..” You mumble, worrying.

“But they were clearly meant for one another.” Jungkook reassures you. “They were.. Very close. Clearly bonded already.” He chuckles, aware that his choice of words must be enough to tell you just how close they seemed to be even after all of what they’ve been through.

“They.. Got together again?” You ask, and he nods.

“Inseparable, really. It was pretty amusing to see your pack alpha be this.. Docile.” He says, still laughing just thinking about the way Yoongi turned instantly soft and gentle at just a bat of his mate’s lashes.

But he understands. He understands so well.

He too would fall in love with you no matter how many lifes he’ll get to live again and again. He knows he would always somehow find you again, love you again, just the same as before. Because you’re not just his chosen mate-

You've become much more than that.

[luringfantasy]

One by One 7/7 (final chapter)

PRELUDE

You were snooping around Loki's stuff to find his chest full of sex toys. He was not very pleased about it and has decided to punish you by using all his toys on you, one by one...

based on this imagine

previous

main masterlist

Warnings: use of "pet" names, BDSM, dom Loki, sub reader, female reader

MINORS DNI

NO PROOF READING

Loki guided you to a small dinner table that was set up in the living room instead of the usual couch. There was a long bench, on which Loki sat. For a moment you were confused why there was only one seat, but as you say Loki looking at you suggestively, you knew what you had to do.

The dinner was nice, you melted into Loki’s embrace, while you both fed each other some food, sneaking some kisses in between, but when you tried to move ahead with the night, Loki pulled back.

You knew he was playing a game, teasing you, making you wait, and you were getting desperate. You could feel your own heat down there. Your panties were WET. Seriously the things this man/god does to you!

After an hour or so Loki got up from the table, with you in his arms, deeming he was full. But you were not, you were still hungry. HUNGRY FOR THAT D.

Instead of the bedroom he took you to the kitchen and gave you water. Which you graciously accepted. After you both had some, you started walking towards his bedroom, to finally start the night. But as you walked a couple of steps in that direction, his hands wrapped around you, effectively  stopping you.

When you turned around to face him, Loki growled - “Oh no pet, you are not going anywhere '', with a menacing grin on his face. It reminded you of the first time Loki laid his hands on you - “now that I have you, we are going to catch up on your punishment “ - he started nibbling on your neck, leaving a trail of bites and kisses, which was too much, making you squirm and try to get out of his grip - “we are going to try all our toys on you” - he said while he looked up, his eyes softened a bit meeting yours before they filled with mischief - “ONE. BY ONE.”

He picked you up and placed you on the counter, you didn’t have the time to react and your clothes vanished into a green shimmer. Loki’s eyes darkened as he saw you in green underneath but he was too taken by lust and power to comment on it. Rather he made his actions say how much he appreciated your efforts. Soon his hands were everywhere. Scratching your back lightly, groping your breast and thighs, while his mouth was busy marking you everywhere.

You pushed yourself closer to the edge, placing your thighs around one of Loki’s trying to alleviate yourself temporarily, just until Loki got to that part. But as time passed, you realized he had no plans of tending to you or himself, he was content with him making you squirm and you rubbing yourself on him in turn. Everytime you tried to pull him close, or “help” him, he tsked and moved your hands away from him, placing them on the counter.

Your whines and please fell onto deaf ears. Soon it was enough, your frustration revealed itself as tears streaming down your eyes.

Probably this is what he wanted, he wanted you to cry for him, because he stopped and took a couple of deep breaths. It looked like he wanted to calm himself down.

“Shall we start my little dove?”. Fcking hell he was being extra cruel today. But you wanted him more than anything right now, so you just nodded.

Loki lifted you in his arms and took you to his room. (FINALLY!).

He placed you on his bed and followed you as you scooted up. Soon your last pair of clothing were discarded, along with Loki’s shirt.

You saw him ravaging through the chest of his toys, the same one that got you into this position. You silently thanked it XD.

You knew Loki was far from getting started and even tonight won’t be a “normal” one. He has been using his toys on you, of course he would use them today too.

“Today we are not going to anything new” he said while he grabbed the trusted pair of handcuffs. Your heart shuddered at it. It was already too intense, and with a handcuff…

But you knew what you had to do. As you laid down Loki attached one of the cuffs to your wrist and after passing it around a bar on the bed frame, finally secured the other end too. You were tied to the bed, unable to move, unable to leave. With the lustful god of mischief, frustrated and needy, all for him.

“Now darling, when was it that you broke the rule”. Shit???? This now? You assumed that Loki would have either forgiven you, or will reprimand you after he fucks you. “Loki, please not now, please I need you.” you were trying your best not to show it, but you were at the verge of crying, not knowing what would happen to you now. As Loki left the bed to rummage through the chest again, you didn’t stop, trying to reason with him. “Loki, I’ll take any punishment, please. Just no- not now. Pl-please.” against your wishes tears sprang in your eyes.

As he returned to the bed you could not see anything in his hands. “Darling- ” he spoke softly, as he wiped your tears away, giving you some hope. “- what kind of god would I be, if I don’t punish my subject as soon as possible. You will not break my rules, it is an important lesson. And I will see to it personally, that you learn it this time.” Your body arched as he raced a finger down from chest to your hips, changing the direction every now and then to keep you on your toes.

“But since you have been such a good girl, I will tell you exactly what I am going to do to you and your desperate little body.” his voice deepened. You didn’t know what was worse: not knowing what he was going to do, or knowing exactly what was to come, without any means to stop it. His hands kept tracing your sensitive skin here and there as he sweetly explained what was to come. “I have been in touch with you for 5 weeks.. And 5 weeks back I asked you to not touch yourself. Yet you failed. It was two weeks ago, wasn’t it?” - you nodded yes, ashamed of not being able to follow his rules. “You see there is a reason I wanted you to wait for me like this..” curiously you looked up to him. “The more you wait, the better the release would be, don’t you agree?”

That was true, the orgasm you had while you broke the rule was AMAZING. Made you see the stars, visit them and fucking revolve around them before coming back to Earth.

“I am a benevolent god, and you did confess to me soon after, so I would not punish you..” this made your eyes lit up, he chuckled at your reaction, how naive of you. “.. rather I’d like to take you to the exact point where you were supposed to be.” WHAT? What does that mean?? Your heart started beating fast; this was not going in a good direction.

“Darling, don’t you think 30 minutes for every week is a good number?”

“Th-thirty minutes of what Loki?” you asked meekly. You didn’t even want to know at this point. You just wanted to get fucked.

“Why of course I am talking about edging..” it was funny how nonchalantly he said that he was going to edge you, in this state, AND for 1.5 hours! You wanted to cry and scream, and push him down the bed to ride him to your heart's content, but you were at his mercy right now, that too being punished.

He soon revealed the vibrator he kept in his pants’ pocket, while you resigned to your fate. It was almost painful. Loki’s cold fingers traced your thighs and then he opened you up for him to see. You closed your eyes, unable to look at him, embarrassed by his vulgar act. But soon realized, that this allowed him to surprise you, as you yelped when his fingers suddenly entered you. He was methodical, exploring you, getting to know you, to use that knowledge against you. Soon you were a moaning crying mess on his bed. Tied up, both physically and mentally, in the desire of a release.

At some point you started begging Loki to let you come, knowing full well that he won’t let you. The later your begging turned into demands and you started screaming profanities at him, at which he started teasing you with a vibrator, not letting it up until the very end, making you fall back down cruelly.

By the time Loki was done with you, all you could feel was a need. A need for your god, and Loki was more than happy to have you like this. After the punishment he took some mercy on you and uncuffed your wrists.You immediately wrapped yourself around Loki. Pushing and pulling on him for anything. You held his pretty face in your hands, and kissed him. You were shivering and trembling from everything you were feeling, and only feeling Loki was something that grounded you.

When he vanished his clothes, you were unaware, but you were very thankful that he did. He lifted you up, and placed you on his cock, letting you settle down, slowly, steadily. You both moaned and sighed when he bottomed out into you. Eyes locking with each other, small smiles adorned both your features.

Your heart fluttered at this act of intimacy, yes you have been with Loki for a long time, but it was animalistic and raw, this on the other hand felt tamer, calmer, almost like love making.

As you tried moving to get some friction, Loki’s arms wrapped themselves around you, preventing you from doing so, he just chuckled as you whined for him denying you. But he quickly remedied that by grinding into you. It wasn’t much movement, but it felt surreal, you could not believe such small movements could bring you both so much pleasure. His hands sneaked between you to play with your folds. At this moment, it was intuitive for him, what makes you tick. Soon he pushed you over the edge, stilling inside you, preventing himself (barely) to fall over the edge with you. Although he could continue after his own release, this was about you right now.

His poor girl took her punishment, it was time to reward her.

After your second release you pushed Loki back on the bed, straddling his waist, the palm of your hand roaming over his chest, feeling his heartbeat, his eyes burning in yours. While his hands tamely rested on your thighs, caressing the sensitive flesh on the outside, and sometimes on the inside. You rode him to your satisfaction, his fingers and sometimes your own aiding in your releases. He too came with you sometime during all this, his nails dug into your skin as he did. But you did not complain a bit, he deserved it. You could see how much he was trying to restrain himself. Something you didn’t understand why, but you welcomed this change happily.

After your nth release, you collapsed on top of him, where he just held you, tracing lines on your back until you both fell asleep.

EPILOGUE:

Context-  After you spent the beautiful night with Loki, you both kept sleeping with each other, and spent more time with each other. While reading an Asgardian “book”, the topic of aphrodisiacs came up, and it turns out Loki does have a vial of a concoction in his chest.

(One month later)

You could not believe it, that asshole Loki! You were going to kill him when you got your hands on him. How dare he?

Your eyes widened as the small vial appeared in his hands, without further ado, he drank the contents in one go (wtf? He did not need an aphrodisiac!). His hands made their way into your hair, pulling you into him roughly. As he kissed you, you could still taste the sweet liquid on his lips. You don’t remember much after that.

Now you can only feel pain! Loki did heal you after that day (and night, and another day, after which you passed out of exertion). But your weak mortal body is still incapable of dealing with the aftermath of, well.. him.

He is introducing you to new things, and pushing your boundaries, while opening new avenues of pleasure for you. With every kiss, and every night, your souls intertwined, weaving a love that grew stronger with each moment, one by one.

TAGLIST: @lokixryss @alyeskathewave @ladymischief11 @tukes @yelkmelk @crimson25 @foxherder

Author's Letter-

Thankyou so so so much for reading my work, I cannot believe there are people who like what I write much less wait for me to post new stuff. I am not being humble, i am not a humble person (lol). But this love was really unexpected. Thankyou from the bottom of my heart. You little notes and comments, every like and reblog makes my day. I feel seen and heard, that there are people who know.. me. This part of me.

Thankyou for letting it happen for me. Love you all! (Now go have a glass of water!)

[thefanciestborrower]

The Devouring of Prometheus

Ohh boy this fic has been over a year in the making and by golly am I proud of it. It was mostly an attempt to imitate Mary Shelley’s writing style while adding more classic lit vore into the world cause oh boy do we need it. This fic is a little darker than my usual fluffy stuff because. You know. It’s Frankenstein. But everything is still safe despite what Victor thinks. Anyways, please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Warnings: Contains soft, safe, unwilling vore, mentions of digestion, mentions of dying, mentions of cannon character death, minor injury, and vomit

Characters: Victor Frankenstein and the Creature

Word Count: 2,830

Mankind has no greater fear than that of being devoured. It is an instinctual fear, engrained deep within our very beings from the moment we are born, as it is in every living being, and yet it is perhaps one of the most uncommon fears to experience in its true, unaltered form. We are quite familiar with the notion of being killed and eaten by a wild beast, since such a thing, while not terribly common in the more civilized parts of the world, is often talked of in books and by explorers returning from long voyages to strange, wild lands. It is a threat to be sure, but perhaps not the most fear inspiring one. A hungry lion might indeed pounce upon you with his teeth and claws bared as if to shred you to ribbons while you lay awake in agony, but in truth he is far more merciful than even most men and will end you swiftly with a bite to the neck before he ever starts to feed. The fear of being eaten in this way, then, is diluted by the promise of a swift death at the claws of a creature who bore you no more malice than you do a butchered duck. 

The terror of being consumed lies not in the act of consumption, but in the method. Stories full of giants and ogres who devour men whole and alive fill the countryside and take captive the minds of all who hear them, filling their dreams with images of gnashing teeth and slavering mouths, capable of sending a grown man down, kicking and screaming, in a single swallow. I must confess I never heard much of these tales growing up, aside from a few Clerval was so fond of telling, and when they did reach my ears, I simply scoffed, laughing such frightening images away in the clear light of day when nothing could seem more ridiculous. They were children’s tales, I thought, simply meant to frighten and entertain, for nothing, man or beast, could swallow whole a living man. Oh, how I wish I had been right. 

He came for me in the night. I was asleep, or nearly so, when a sudden noise at my window startled me awake. At first I assumed it to be the scratching of a branch or perhaps even some night creature making its rounds through the garden outside. After all, I was far more unfamiliar with the Oxford landscape than my dear friend Clerval, who had spent much of his afternoon exploring the grounds, so I felt there to be no need for concern. Indeed, I had nearly turned over to drift back to sleep when I saw his eyes. Those wretched, sunken, yellow eyes staring as if into my very soul through the dusty window I had neglected to lock in my naivety. I might have screamed had fear not grasped my throat and strangled my voice, and though I longed to run, terror turned my legs to lead and forced me to watch as the fiend pried open the window with a delicate ease that seemed almost laughable compared to the rest of his hulking mass. I pulled my sheet up to shield my chest like a child might, entertaining fantasies that perhaps this was simply a nightmare, and if I remained still in my bed then he would be unable to harm me, but when he began to climb through the window with the elegance of a lion stalking his prey, eyes never once leaving me, panic settled over my heart and I realized this was no mere conjuring of an overworked mind. The beast was here, looming over me in my chambers as I trembled in bed with naught but a thin sheet and even thinner night clothes to protect me. 

“Devil! What do you want from me!” I cried at last, terror loosening her claws from my throat. “I have not forgotten our agreement, so why do you insist on tormenting me so!” 

I received no reply, the beast more than content to simply stare at my trembling form. Perhaps he enjoyed how weak I must have appeared before him as his eyes flicked over me, almost sizing me up for reasons I could never have comprehended in that moment. Cold and yellow as they were, I could see an inkling of some mysterious emotion behind those eyes, but it’s identity I couldn’t say. Nor did I care. My thoughts were quickly preoccupied as he advanced upon me, padding forwards like some great and terrible cat, until he stopped just shy of the side of my bed, so close I could have reached out and touched him. 

Again, I saw that strange emotion flicker behind his dead eyes, but before I had time to ponder it he wrapped his hands around my chest and lifted me from the safety of my bed with terrifying ease, like one might lift a small child or a doll, and while I screamed and writhed in his hideous grasp, his hold only tightened. My ribs creaked and complained under the pressure and my cries became strangled and choked. With a ghastly popping sound he opened his grotesque mouth, jaw hanging at an angle too wide for any human to achieve, and to my upmost horror he quickly stuffed my head inside with the terrifying efficiency of a ravenous beast. The slimy muscle of his tongue lapped against my face and my body convulsed in disgust as I desperately fought not to be sick. Revolting as my situation was, I did not wish to add my own vomit to the mix, even if it might have disgusted the fiend enough to free me. 

I could see nothing but darkness, each desperate gasp for oxygen only supplying me with the barest sliver of foul air. Teeth ringed my neck like a terrible collar, and for a moment I entertained ideas of those teeth, the very same I had picked and sorted by hand, crashing together to sever my head from my body like some terrible executioner. Before my thoughts could spiral much more in this direction, his grip changed and I was suddenly shoved against the slick, fleshy opening of his throat. My blood curdled and, with a sudden, crushing pressure, my head was crammed downwards in the most painful manner which caused me to cry out in despair. My skull felt as though it would shatter, and I screamed a horrible, terrible shriek of agony and terror as my shoulders were crushed down after me, the tight gullet of the beast threatening to break them into splinters. My vision swam, stars of pain and lack of breath sparking and dancing before my eyes, and though no light followed me into my hellish prison, I could still see the blackest pitch wavering at the edge of my vision, threatening to drown me in its inky embrace. For a moment I wished it would, if only to keep me from the terrible suffering I knew lay before me, but fate is a cruel mistress and before I could sink into that comforting ocean of darkness a terrible pressure bloomed upon the crown of my head and forced me into an open pocket of stinking, putrid air. 

Coughing and gaging I struggled to draw even a single breath. My ribs, now horribly compressed, creaked and shuttered terribly under the pressure of the creature’s throat, and though my legs still flailed outside, and my hands desperately scrambled for a hold on what I felt to be his chin, I did not dare move the length of my compressed torso for fear of inflicting more damage upon myself. Another painful swallow jolted me down, my face jamming roughly into what I presumed to be the bottom of the creature’s dreadful stomach, and the grotesque flesh not only yielded to accept my presence, but did so with an almost pleased sounding groan, if stomachs can be pleased, as if I really were simply a morsel of food to be consumed and forgotten. The sound filled my heart with a terror I’ve never known, and I cried out, though my voice was quickly silenced by the slick flesh as more of my body was squeezed through that terrifically tight ring of muscle and forced to bend and twist to fit my new prison like some sort of contortionist. 

I know not how long it took the devil to consume me: the darkness of my surroundings and constant pain dulled my senses and left me disoriented to the point where I no longer could even tell up from down. I remember no longer feeling the cold air on my body after some time, my entire being now encased in sweltering heat, and searing pain as my legs were crushed down against my ribs. Finally, it was all over. My entire body had been fully compacted into the creature’s stomach, and although this new development was arguably a much worse position than my previous one, I was far too preoccupied with gulping down precious lungfuls of oxygen to care.

Then, all at once, the reality of my situation came crashing down upon me and with the fervor of a cornered beast I began to lash out and fight, twisting and turning in the confined space in hopes of causing my captor at least the slightest bit of discomfort. 

“Fiend! Devil! Release me at once!” I panted, gnashing my teeth in fear and anger. “This is no way to treat any man, let alone your maker!”

I had no doubt that he could hear my cries and feel my struggles, confined as I was, and yet no answer came. Despite the nature of my location, I was completely and utterly alone, for what man pays attention to his food after he’s eaten it. Again, I tried to call out, to plead for release as I fought against the smothering flesh, and again I was ignored, save for a light pressure against my back from which I hastily jerked away. It was his hand; I knew it instinctively. The brute was no doubt relaxing after so fine a feast of human flesh, and that touch was nothing more then the satisfied gloating of a predator now sated with a filling meal that would last him far longer than any morsel of bread or wine. I was merely something to be enjoyed, digested, and forgotten.

 How many more, I wondered, would be lost in the same way once I had perished. Clearly my current location indicated my captor had grown fond of the taste of human, and with a heart wrenching shudder I suddenly realized I had no way of knowing wether I was the first victim of the monster’s appetite, or if he had already glutted himself with other gentle country folk, just as he had done to me, and I was now resting in their grave. The thought was too much for my already distraught and troubled soul, and the disgust which filled me suddenly became too overwhelming to sustain. With a thick heave I proceeded to retch onto myself, my sick mixing with the beast’s own bile, and I sobbed bitterly for my home. 

“Oh, my dear mountains and precious lake. Will I truly never again delight in your sweet air and radiant beauty? Am I to perish so far from all that is fair and wholesome, without even the cold stars to bare witness to my demise?” I lamented; my voice thick with the grief of a man who believes he is to die isolated from everything he once held dear. 

The spongy flesh seemed to mute my voice effectively as a heavy curtain might, and my words fell upon deaf ears, for no reply came from my creation. My captor. My killer. Was I really to meet my end as nothing more than a meal? My last breath tainted by the stench of bile and vomit? The pressure to my back returned, and although the touch revolted me, I was far too exhausted from my fear and the quickly thinning oxygen to do more than twitch in protest. What difference would it make anyways, my fate was already sealed.

Each breath I drew grew more ragged and gasping with every passing second, my panic having done nothing but quickly use up what little air I had in the stale cell, and in some fever, I realized that, although my air was quickly thinning, I had not yet begun to feel the slightest tingle of digestion. Oh, what sweet twist of fate was this! I still would meet my end as nothing more than a morsel of food this was true, but I would be long since unconscious and perhaps even suffocated before acids truly began to work on me and thus spared the sensation of digesting alive. It was a small assurance, but so consumed was I by grief and terror of my fate that even the small mercy of a painless death brought me comfort. It was more than a man like me deserved after all I’d done. The innocent blood on the creature’s hands stained mine as well, and I thought bitterly of poor darling little William and dear Justine. Their blood has been spilt on my account, and yet, while their deaths had been horrific tragedies, I took solace in knowing they had left the world far quicker than I would, and that I would be seeing them again soon.

My vision swam before me, and with one last shuddering sigh I slumped against the slick walls, no longer attempting to catch my breath, for what would be the point in trying to breathe when there is no air left to fill my lungs. The stomach clenched around me with a disgusting squelch, smothering and squeezing my helpless form as it worked to knead what I presumed to be caustic acids into my sodden clothing and soft flesh, preparing for the undoubtably difficult task of liquifying my un-masticated body. With a gasping, barely audible sob I pressed a trembling hand out against my churning prison walls, cursing my creation and praying my end would be swift. Then the darkness engulfed me, and I knew no more.

Due to the circumstances in which I had fallen unconscious I fully expected to never wake again, so when I started awake some unknown amount of time later in the very bed I had been snatched out of, I could seldom comprehend what was happening. My first thought was that my horrendous experience had been naut but a dream; an apparition brought upon me by the dreadful task I knew I would soon be required to complete. Then I became aware of the disgusting film of sticky, foul smelling sick coating my body and the dull, yet throbbing pain in my ribs, and my blood ran cold. It had been no dream. My creation truly had assaulted me in the night, swallowed me whole and alive, and, by some miracle, vomited me back out before his digestive system could process me. In fact, aside from my ribs, which were badly bruised, I appeared whole and unharmed. Not even a drop of acid had singed my clothes, and my skin was fair and unblemished as it had always been. I pressed a hand to my cheek as if to make certain of my unharmed state, and then, to my own surprise, I began to laugh. It was not a mirthful laugh, but rather one of incredulous shock and relief as I grasped at my warm and unharmed skin. So certain had I been that those final moments filled with slimy blackness and foul reeking air inside the creature would be my last that the cold air of my room and the sting of my nails against my face might well have been gifts from Heaven itself. Even now I marvel at my incredible escape and wonder what could possibly have prompted the monster to give up as filling a meal as I surely must have been. I do not think I shall ever know, but judging from the healthy nature which I possessed upon waking, I can only assume he realized he could not process me as he intended and his body expelled me, though wether such an expulsion was voluntary on his part I still could not say. Nonetheless I knew I was no doubt incredibly fortunate to have survived such an encounter and my resolve had the been strengthened. Where before I had postponed my promise, I vowed to not do so again, for who knew how long the wretched beast would be content to wait and leave me and others be. As soon as I was able, I would set to work creating another who would contain his terrible urges and put this dreadful encounter behind me forever. 

[noroamenial]

I wrote some more Raphael x Tav!!!

spoilers for story stuff in Act 3, its there to set the scene.

uhhhhhh cw: a pretty suggestive start (it's just paragraph.)

basically it starts at the end of a sex scene between Raphael and Tav. After that its just a bunch of sweet. And the main plot is a date between raph and tav.

....“Take me, Raphael.” and oh did he. Passion and lust coupled into a starburst of an orgasm, the stroke of his cock drove you insane. Through a mix of biting, scratching, gentle words, wandering hands, and three orgasms you were laid sated and bare on your bedroll. 

Raphael sat beside you, stroking hair from your face. He sighed, leaning over to kiss you briefly.

“Will I see you again?” your voice and thoughts had returned, albeit hoarse. 

He looked at you, contemplating for a few moments. Something swirled behind his amber eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

“Yes.” he stayed close to your face to speak softly. “Once you arrive in Baldur’s Gate, meet me in Sharess Caress…try not to let your companions tag along.” he glanced at the bedrolls around camp. “Then we can discuss over dinner.” he smiled, looking down at you once again. 

You smile back, coaxing him down to kiss his cheek. Raphael obliges.

“Good, now take care to remember our plans. And do try not to die, my dove.” he scolds lightly, pulling the bedroll’s blanket around you. 

~~~

Your exhaustion had turned to excitement as soon as your party had made it to Baldur’s gate. You reserved the rooms above the Elfsong tavern for your companions before heading out. You were meant to meet Kithrak Voss at Sharess Caress along with your other…confidant. So hopefully your party wouldn’t connect the dots too easily. 

The morning you had woken up after your last encounter with Raphael, you were greeted with your whole party and their deep concern for the bite marks, scratching, and not to mention the infernal lettering hastily scrawled up your arm. You honestly couldn’t even give a half assed excuse. And thank the hells no one could read infernal—you couldn’t either but that's besides the point. You assumed it was just a reminder from Raphael.

In Sharess caress Kithrak Voss spouted nonsense about the devil Raphael and freeing someone before scampering off to the lower level of the city and telling you to meet him there after meeting with Raphael. You sighed, you had thought that this meeting would be something more…casual, rather than some new contract business. 

Begrudgingly you let your companions—Astarion, Gale, and Karlach���come with you. Now that they knew it was Raphael, they insisted. With how much you left out of disclosing your rendezvous, and Raphael’s charm and seeming inability to feel shame, your party might end up learning a little too much today. 

Pushing open an oak door you briefly glanced at the sign beside it. “Devil’s den” was this a usual arrangement? Seeing as it was a room inside a brothel, you didn’t particularly want to know if Raphael was an employee or a patron. 

The quick light up of his eyes as you led your party into the room was all that you needed to confirm what this was going to be. It was only for a second, the gentle amber of his true irises, before it faded back to a washed out rich brown for his human form. It's not as if his human form wasn’t attractive—it was. It was just that you had been longing for that form bathed in the soft camplight glow.

“My dove and her flock have finally come to my nest,” Raphael clasped his hands together in front of him, his easy smirk lazily sprawled across his lips. 

“Though I believe I asked just for you,” he mutters, taking your arm suddenly as you got close. His free hand pulling up your sleeve, thumb rubbing across the infernal writing in ink still clear on your arm. 

Karlach fidgeted at your side, you could tell she had to double take as not to strike the devil. 

“Anything you have to say to them, you can say with us around too.” She growls, leaning forward. The teifling makes a motion with her hands for him to brush off and he does. 

“Oh it’s fine by me, but it might not be fine by her.” Raphael shrugs, backing up. 

“And why would that be?” You ask hesitantly, meeting his gaze.

“You know why,” he shrugs again, “anyways, to business.” Raphael explained his deal to you, he’d offer the Orphic hammer to release the Githyanki prince from the empower and the astral prism and in return he wanted the netheres crown.

“…After a century long rage, I decided that my time would come.” He smiled, “and here it is, the dead three’s little representatives stole it right from under Mephistopheles nose, and I may regain it.” 

“Do not agree to this.” Gale warns from behind you. “Netheres magic is wild and untamed, it must be studied and understood.” 

You hesitate here, you had promised Gale this artifact, but centuries of disappointment and even wrath could come from turning Raphael down.

The devil must have noticed: “I won’t make you decide now, after all, you have other things to do before then.” He let out a sigh, gazing out the window as his expression fell.

“Thank you,” You sigh. And suddenly you’re both standing in silence. You can tell your party is shifting uncomfortably behind you, they don’t want to be here longer than they need to.

Raphael clears his throat, 

“One last thing, then I will let you go.” You watch as his gaze looks you up and down. “I promised you dinner. If you’re still interested, come back at sunset. Just you this time, my dove.” And his smile returns with the name. 

~~~

Your heart was beating so fast as you and your party left to go back to the Elfsong Tavern. Truth be told, all you could think about was what do you possibly have that would be suitable to wear on a date?

Your companions were less giddy. 

“Dinner? For what? When did he promise you that?” Karlach was talking into the air, hot steam rolling off of her shoulders as her infernal engine worked inside her. “Promised you? You better not be making some sort of deal with him. You can’t. I know firsthand the consequences of making a deal with a devil.” 

“Don’t go.” It was Gale’s voice this time, “I know you think you can handle everything, after you’ve handled—“ he waves his hands up, “—all this. But don’t. Please.” He places a hand on your shoulder. And at this point you can’t tell if he’s more afraid of losing you, or the potential to study that artifact. 

You shrug his hand off as you see the Elfsong in sight. 

“Well Astarion, any opinions?” You sigh, looking over at the pale elf. 

He shrugs, “If you do this, do it out of your own benefit. And If you end up in harm’s way, we’ll come running.”

That was one of the most caring answers the vampire could have come up with. Maybe he was seeing part of himself in you, or maybe he really did just care. 

“Thank you.” 

~~~

You had already spotted your companions across the tavern eyeing you. After confessing you had a ‘date’ and that’s why you were sneaking away from the tavern so late, they had followed you. At first you laughed at how they tried to be sneaky, but now it was just annoying. 

You were sitting near the back in a reserved booth, it was in a corner with a little alcove above it, and a single candle in the middle of the table. You had dressed up, some black outfit that had caught your eye the day previous. It had little silver embellishments and white trim lace, it cost a pretty penny, but you felt as though you deserved at least one nice thing. 

Tracing the smudging infernal on the inside of your arm, you sighed. You shouldn’t get your hopes up for anything. It was more likely that Raphael wanted a contract out of this encounter and was just nice enough to save you from embarrassment directly in front of your party. You suddenly felt really stupid with that last thought. Why would someone desire your company in such a way? Nevertheless a devil of all beings. It seemed that all you had been doing lately is giving. Giving to your companions, whether that was emotional or physical. Giving to the damn parasite in your head. Giving to the emperor. Being the conduit to the end of something greater than yourself. Every action, every consequence hangs over your head every day, every second of your journey. You are a beginning and an end. A tool for greater purpose. 

You swallowed hard, looking at the small flickering candle inside of a half mason jar. This wasn’t good, you were holding back the urge to burst into tears. 

“Usually I am nothing less than punctual.” A deep sigh and the creak of wood, and Raphael was sitting beside you in the booth. He had that sharp tang of sulfur with him, meaning he must have rushed in not long ago. “But I was taking my time, apologies.” Raphael was one for attention, but his usual outfit was gone in place of something more neutral, dark grays and maroons, accented with gold. It was a change from the vibrant blue. Stray burning cinders floated from his hair as he combed a hand through it. The human glamor was probably rushed too. 

He flashed you a grin that faltered when your eyes met. 

“It's okay.” You murmured, dabbing at your eyes. It was more embarrassing than anything to be caught so emotionally. 

“And, I'll admit, I’m glad to be a bit more casual with you.” He teased, taking your hand in his as soon as you finished. “As my favorite entertainment of course." And as you meet his gaze, that uneasy feeling returns.

"It actually...was really exciting to be asked out to dinner." you admit, "And I'm excited it was you who asked me."

That had left him quiet, no quip or remark. He angled his head to look at you. Perhaps he was taking in the genuine tone of your words, or maybe he was just content with the fact that you wanted what he wanted.

“Your companions are here.” He says after a moment of silence. 

“I know.”

“They are glaring.” 

“I know.” 

“I take it they don't approve.” He chuckles. 

“Nope.” You can’t help the smile that comes from you. “I’m allowed to go on a date and not disclose the who, what, and where.” 

“So they followed you?” 

“Probably.” You shrug, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Let’s make this night as long and enjoyable as possible, because I know I’m getting a stern lecture the moment I leave.” 

“Why don’t we go somewhere more private then?” He proposes, kissing the top of your head. 

“In a moment, we’ve got one of these reserved booths. I want to makeout with you openly.” 

For some reason, that perked him up exponentially. Perhaps his desire for performance and attention. “Whatever you wish, my dove.” He purrs, hand leaving yours to instead gently squeeze your thigh. “I would give you the world if you asked.”

“Why is that?” You ask, moving to face him. 

“I am fond of you.” He chuckles, “I don’t like things like I like you. If you weren’t in the middle of a life or death situation—I would court you slower. But you’re mortal, I have to be quicker lest you slip from my grasp all too quickly.” 

There was a slip of worry in his tone, perhaps love all too soon lost. Or maybe just the nagging worry of losing you. But it didn’t dwell long as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. And finally, there was that warmth you had been missing. 

~~~

If this is well received I could make a part two! or even a smutty prologue but here is what I have to offer.

[simpingandshitposting]

Thinking About You

Dabi x f!Reader

A/n: This one is inspired by the girlies in the server and the presents we get from our Kings 👑🥰🙌 iykyk

I promise part 3 of Kingdom of Fire is coming soon😭I know it's been over a month, I'm sorry it's taking me so long but I'm almost done<3

Warnings⚠️: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, established relationship, praise kink, masturbation, scratching, slight choking, biting, oral (f and m receiving), cock-warming, mating press, auralism kink.

Summary: You wake up to a little gift from your boyfriend, and as soon as you start to take care of the problem he created, he sneaks in for a visit and catches you in the act.

Word Count: 2.6k

@haru-x-ren @electricnovaa

Sometime in the middle of the night, you had woken up from your much needed, but scarcely gotten sleep. You'd been restless all night for some reason, probably just your insomnia acting up again. You roll over and stumbly reach for your phone on the nightstand. The time read 2:36am and you only had one notification.

You usually put your phone on do not disturb when going to bed, and only one person was on that priority notification list. So thru blurred vision and squinted eyes, you clicked on the text message from your boyfriend. You sat up in bed and rubbed your eyes clear, and your gaze ran over the screen.

Dabs💙

Thinking about you<3

��� •l||ll||ll||ll||ll||ll||ll||ll||ll||ll||ll||ll• 1:42

You weren't entirely sure what the voice message was that he sent you, but you hit play on it anyway. Once you hit the button, you heard quiet, but heavy breathing. You were confused for a second until you heard a small whimper, followed by a breathy "yeah~".

Your eyes widened and you were instantly fully awake. Your cheeks grew a little hot as you listened to the lewd noises your boyfriend was making while thinking about you. And god did they sound so pretty. You felt heat rising between your legs and a wet spot growing on your panties. You wished he was there with you, instead of on some important mission for Shigs.

Little did you know, he'd finished up early and was on his way to you right now. He'd been on this mission for a few days now. He'd never tell you where he was going, or what he was doing, always trying to keep you as far away from it as possible. All he told you was that he was needed, and he wouldn't be back for what should've been another day or two, and promised to come see you as soon as he could.

The more you listened, the more your thighs started to involuntarily rub together. His moans were creating a problem you were sure you'd need to take care of by yourself. His breathing was getting heavier, his whimpering more frantic. He repeated your name multiple times while giving you praise. Saying things like "oh~ y/n... I miss that pretty little pussy so much. ngh~ as s-soon as I come home I'm gonna— ugh~ I'm gonna take such good care of you angel." The two of you didn't live together, yet every single time he would tell you he was "coming home" and it just made you melt.

You could hear the city around him, the sound of a car passing by every so often. Along with the wet sound of the way he pleasured himself. The thought of him being so needy while tucked away in an alley somewhere only made your problem worse. He was getting whiney, and hearing him so desperate was enough to make you let out a quiet moan of your own. You could hear the strain in his voice when he moaned your name once again. The same strain you were all too familiar with hearing right next to your ear when he had you pinned to the mattress.

You heard it when his cord snapped. You could tell the exact moment when he'd entered that euphoric feeling of an orgasm, and it turned your brain into soup. It was followed by a few heavy breaths before it went silent. After the minute and fourty-two second recording ended, you found yourself dissatisfied. You wanted more. Needed more of it. Of him.

You leaned over and rummaged around your nightstand, still in the dark, and found your charging ear buds. You opened the case and slipped them in your ears, automatically connecting to your phone. you hit play on the recording again, and you heard those same breathy moans. You shut your eyes and leaned against your headboard. This was exactly what you wanted. It sounded like he was right there, whimpering those praises into your ear like he was in the room, fucking you himself.

Your hand snaked in between your thighs as you listened to his praises, pushing past the waist band of your panties and finding its way to your needy clit. You were slow at first, working yourself up just like he would. You pushed two fingers past your tight entrance and let out a sinful sound of pleasure. The way he whimpered and whined made your head fuzzy and it was enough to make your gummy walls tighten around your own fingers.

Your hand slipped inside your shirt and you tugged and pinched your nipple, just like he would, doing your best to replicate the way he touched you. You continued to work yourself while listening to him and you were almost there when it went silent again. You opened your eyes and let out an irritated sigh. You took your hand out of your shirt and hit play again before continuing your ministrations.

Unbeknownst to you, your bedroom window slowly slid open and Dabi's thin form crawled thru into the dark room. This was how he entered your apartment most of the time. He was sure that you'd be asleep at a time like this, expecting to come in and just cuddle up with you and say hi in the morning, so when he entered the room he was surprised to see you awake, and masturbating right in front of him.

He could barely see you, the only light in the room being the tiny cast from the moon coming thru the window, and the illumination from your phone screen. Suddenly he heard you give a throaty moan and it instantly made him hard. What could possibly have you so worked up at 2:45 in the morning? And then he glanced at your screen, seeing his contact and remembering the whiney voice message he sent you hours ago.

He smirked, and then glanced up to your face. Your eyes were closed and your eye brows furrowed. That familiar expression of pleasure made him switch. He realized that you didn't know he was there, so he decided to sit for a bit and enjoy the show. Surely you wouldn't mind.

About a minute passed before the voice message stopped again. You opened your eyes to hit play once more, but as soon as you did, you saw dabi leaning against the wall, pumping his own dick. You jumped, not expecting him to be there. "Jesus Christ—" you breathed out. He smirked, not stopping his movement. "Sorry doll, didn't mean to scare ya." He pushed off the wall and took a few steps closer to your bed. "But please... Don't stop on my account." Your face flushed red and if it weren't for the lack of light, he'd be able to see just what his voice did to you. You didn't move for a second, and then you felt his hand run up the length of your thigh. "...unless you'd rather I take over." he stared into your eyes with that familiar lustful smirk painted on his lips. He already knew your answer.

He reached up and removed your earbuds so you could hear him clearly. Setting them, and your phone back on your night stand. As he leaned over you to move your things, you spoke. "you're back early." He smiled and planted a kiss on your cheek. "I missed you." He kissed you again on your shoulder as you heard him kick his shoes off next to the bed. "Now let me take care of you just like I promised."

He was on top of you now, lavishing your neck with sloppy kisses, leaving marks like he always did. Claiming his territory. His hand slid up your waist, pushing the fabric of his shirt up and over your breasts. He pushed his knee in-between your legs, forcing them to spread for him. As if you'd even resist.

His teeth sunk into the soft skin at the base of your neck and you whined right next to his ear. His grip on your breast tightened and he groaned against your skin. One of your arms wrapped around his neck and ran your fingers thru his inky black hair. The other around his back, pulling at his T-shirt, wanting it off. He pulled away from you, sitting on his knees and tugged it over his head. Your hands immediately found his abdomen in the dark, feeling his mixed skin and cold metal against your palms. You sat up and lowered your hands to his belt, leaving soft kisses on his stomach.

He rested a hand on the back of your head, lacing his fingers in your hair gently. Once you unbuckled his pants, you pulled them down over his hips along with his boxers. It flong out at you, throbbing and needy for attention. You took it in your hand and teased his tip with your tongue. You could taste the precum that started to leak from his slit as he let out a few breathy moans. "I missed you too" you finally replied, your voice breathy and seductive. It sent goosebumps down his forearms and he closed his eyes. He let out a deep sigh of pleasure when you planted another gentle kiss on his tip. His eyes opened and met yours, staring up at him in the dim light from the window. His rough palm cupped your face, finding comfort in your soft skin. "Show me just how much you missed me." The desire in his voice was unmistakable with the way his words came out as a growl of demand more than a request.

You opened your mouth and sank yourself around him, letting your tongue coat the underside of his shaft with wet saliva. The moan he let out was sinful. He'd been craving you for days. Desperate for the pleasure you gave him that no one else could ever match.

His eyes were fixed on yours as he watched his dick disappear down your throat over and over again. You always took him so well. There's no way he'd last much longer with the way you were swallowing him whole. Especially having gone a whole week with nothing but his hand. He started twitching and throbbing, and then you heard him stutter out some words. N-no shit ngh~ "

He pulled out of your mouth quickly with a few heavy breaths. "You are too fucking good at that angel." You smiled at him, wiping your mouth with your wrist. He let out a small chuckle before grabbing your neck and pushing you down on the bed. "My turn." He caught your whimper with a kiss so deep you felt your pussy throb. He pushed the shirt over your breasts once again and sucked on one of your hardened nipples. Your face was burning as that tingly pleasure went straight to your core. Your legs tried to instinctively close, but they were trapped open by him in-between them.

He trailed wet kisses over skin, simultaneously pulling your panties over your hips and past your thighs. He took his lips off of you only long enough to completely remove them and discard them somewhere in the dark room. With bent knees, you spread your legs for him once more and he lowered himself to level with your mattress. He kissed the inside of your thigh softly, putting both your legs over his shoulders. He kissed your other thigh the same way before sinking into your heat. The flat of his tongue covered your folds and dragged across them before tracing circles around your sensitive bud. His hands encircled your things and held them tight when you whimpered. He did the same motion again, taunting you with his slow ministrations. His tongue teased at your entrance and pushed past your pulsating hole. He swirled his tongue around, poking that gummy pressure point at your entrance that most men didn't even know existed. It made you arch your back and cry out a few whimpers. He pushed on it again and you saw stars.

He continues to go back and forth between sucking on your clit and tongue fucking you. You were getting so close and then he groaned against you, vibrating the parts of you that were in his mouth and that tipped you over the edge. Loud moans came pouring out of you and your thighs clamped around his head. Your hips tried to buck upwards but he gripped your waist and held you down. His tongue did not stop until your screams and cries faded into heavy breathing with small whimpers from your sensitivity and he felt your throbbing aftershock as he pulled away.

He wiped his mouth with his wrist, just as you did, and came back up to pepper soft kisses on your cheek and neck. He whispered in your ear. "I'll never get tired of the way you taste." And kissed your neck again. He was a gentle lover, even when he was rough he did indeed always take such good care of you.

Your arms wrapped around his back and pulled him closer to you. At the same time he pushed your legs as far up as they'd let him, letting his dick slide between your folds a few times. "Dabi, please~" you whined. How could he deny your begging? He pulled his hips back and pushed slowly inside you. The both of you moaning into each other's mouths. "Why are you always ngh~ so damn tight?" Your nails dug into his back as he dragged himself almost completely out of you and back in again. It was a big stretch, but not painful at all. Tears welled in your eyes just a little and he smirked, kissing the spot on your cheek where one fell. "You're so pretty...ngh~ and all mine." He picked up his pace now, pistong into you while he had you in a mating press. And there it was, his whiney moans in your ear just like the voice message he sent you. It made your walls tighten around him which only made him whimper more. He grabbed onto one of your hands, interlocking your fingers and pushing it down into the mattress. The other snaked around your arched back, holding you even closer to him. Your breasts pressed firmly against his chest and his face buried in the crook of your neck, leaving more bite marks.

His hips snapped into you again and again and he started to throb once more. Your cord was on the verge of snapping. He lifted himself off of you a little to rub circles on your clit with his thumb. "Cum for me angel. F-fuck~ can you do that me? Be a good girl and cum for me nguh-" His voice sent you toppling over into another orgasm and you squeezed him so tight that his eyes rolled in the back of his head, seeing stars as he emptied himself in you. Filling you to the brim with his sticky white cum. He didn't even stop, or slow down, he just fucked his seed deeper into you for a few more minutes until his adrenaline wore out.

He collapsed on top of you, breathing heavy in your ear. You struggled to catch your breath as well, rubbing his back where you'd left marks before. Eventually your breathing evened out and you heard the tiniest snore. "Baby?" You whispered, moving some of the hair from his face to take a look at him. Sure enough, he'd passedout while cock-warming himself inside you. He must have been so exhausted from the long mission, plus coming home to take care of you.

You pressed a soft kiss to his temple, settling your head on the pillow and letting his breathing lull you to sleep.

[catierambles]

Alternate Instincts Ch.9

Pairing: The Rogue’s Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)

WC 1187

Warnings: Moar smut

August left her sleeping, easing the door to his room closed around mid-morning. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He smelled like her, he wore her marks on his skin, bites on his neck and chest, scratches along his back and arms. They were superficial, and would heal in short order, but he wanted to wear them always. The fact that she could always give him more, though, made his lips perk slightly.

“You better not treat her like shit, now.” He turned, seeing Sy leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded over his chest. “Walt almost organized a search party when he woke up and realized she never came back to bed. Well, she did go back to bed, just not his.”

“She thought I didn't want her.”

“She thought you fuckin' hated her.” Sy said, “She thought we all hated that she's our Mate.”

“Why?”

“Because she ain't a wolf.” He said simply, “And I have a feelin' that Feral fucked with her head. We already know he laid hands on her.”

“Yeah.” August said, sniffing slightly.

“So no hot then cold shit, got it?” Sy said, “She don't need her head fucked with even more.”

“I won't.”

It was around lunch when they heard the shower start and there was a moment before Geralt pushed up from his seat, heading up the stairs without a word to the others, but he knew August had watched him go. The mirror above the sink was fogged over with steam and he pulled off his clothes. She jumped a little as he pulled back the curtain only so long as to step into the tub with her, standing behind her.

“Hey.” She said somewhat awkwardly.

“Sleep well?” He asked and she nodded. “We know you spent the night with August.”

“Shit.” She whispered, her head hanging a little. “I'd apologize, but apologies mean dick with these things.”

“These things?”

“I had sex with August.”

“You're his Mate.”

“I'm your Mate, too, and I slept with another man.”

“You think I'm angry?”

“You're not?” She asked after a pause.

“No.” He said simply and there was a long pause in which he could almost feel her confusion, “Stephanie, you weren't unfaithful to me with August. You're his Mate, just like you're mine, and the others. To ask you not to sleep with your Mate, or get angry if you did, would be unfair to the both of you.” She was quiet still, “We have a theory that if you were to be infected, you would be a female Alpha, and it's not uncommon, in fact it's pretty normal, for female Alphas to have more than one Mate.”

“Oh.” She said and his arms slid around her stomach, holding her back against his chest.

“So I'm not angry, and neither are the others.” He said and she sighed, laying her hands on his arms.

“Okay, good to know.” She said, “Wait, you're in the shower with me.”

“Are you just now realizing this?” He asked, amusement accenting his voice.

“We're both naked!”

“As one usually is in the shower.” He said and she swatted his arm.

“Geralt!” She said and he chuckled, his arms tightening around her.

“Don't worry, Stephanie.” He said, pressing his lips to the side of her head, “You don't have a wolf's stamina, so I know you're probably tired from being with August.”

“And sore.” She said, “Maybe I should take up yoga if it's always going to be like that with you guys.”

“I'll help you finish washing up, and then we'll go back to my room.” He said, “See what I can do about those sore muscles.”

His touch was gentle as he bathed her, massaging her scalp as he washed her hair, helping her rinse the suds from the strands. He was semi-hard, though, against her stomach as he washed her body and it made heat curl slowly through her veins, tinting her cheeks. His breath caught in his throat as her fingers laid on his hips. Taking the shower head down, he rinsed her off, watching as the water flowed over her skin.

"Geralt." His eyes met hers and she reached up, pulling him down. His hands wrapped around her waist as she kissed him, pulling her against him. "Let's go to your room?" He nodded, turning off the shower. Grabbing towels, he wrapped one around her as she squeezed the water from her hair, wrapping the other around his hips before they got out. He scooped her up in his arms, making her giggle, and carried her from the bathroom and into his room. Laying her down, he pulled open the towel, his head darting down to lick the droplets of water from her skin. Casting aside the towel around his hips, he knelt on the bed, going to her as she reached for him. He settled over her, looking down at her briefly before he kissed her, easing his weight onto her.

Stephanie tangled their legs, rubbing a thigh between his and he groaned into her lips, twitching against her stomach.

"I'll be gentle." He whispered.

"I know." She whispered back and he kissed her again as he parted her legs, reaching between them to align them. Geralt kept his eyes locked on hers as he pushed into her slowly, her whimper as he stretched her open making him swallow heavily.

"My Mate." He groaned, starting a slow and steady pace that made a shiver run down his spine. She fit him perfectly, taking him to the base with every push of his hips, her slick heat gripping him so tight as if she were trying to keep him inside.

"Fuck, Geralt." She sighed, holding onto him, her eyes closing as her head fell back against the pillows. Small noises left her lips each time they were joined, their breath passing between them in heavy pants and moans as he started to move faster. "Yes, just like that, don't stop."

"Come for me, Steph." He said, "I want to feel you come."

"Don't stop, just don't stop." She said and he kissed her as he kept his pace and speed, a tugging under his nails making him fist his blankets, his claws gouging holes in the fabric. She cradled his face in her hands, her lips a hairsbreadth from his and she gasped, her eyes rolling back as they closed, her legs cinching tight around his waist as her hips rocked upwards to meet his. The feel of her clenching around him in waves made his eyes close tight.

"Stephanie, I--"

"Don't stop, I don't want to stop feeling you, please." She almost sobbed it and he held her hip as his pace sped. "Please please please." She came again without warning, giving a short cry and with a few more heavy thrusts, he buried himself in her to the base, groaning as he released into her. "Fuck."

"Perfect." He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "My Mate." He was still hard and it didn't take long before he started moving again, making her gasp.

[siriannatan]

Charms of Accidents

I needed to write something to tell myself I still remember how to. So I wrote the idea I got this morning :}

I might write more but at the moment have no plans to.

Scott messed up. He knew it as soon as he woke up and realised a couple of facts. One, he wasn't in his apartment. Two, he was alone, so whoever he spent the night with was awake. Not what he usually would do. But, the third thing was... He could not recall anything after he left the club with the handsome ginger. Not one single thing. And fourth, possibly even worse, as he tried to move everything hurt. Like a lot.

He didn't accidentally sleep with an Other Worlder? Who are Other Worlders? All sorts of supernatural creatures. Mages, vampires, demons, dragons and so on. They had their own laws that human governments often honoured over their own. It was extremely dangerous for humans to interact with them even when sober. And Scott possibly landed with one while drunk. Very drunk. It was bad. He had to go home and soon. As far from here as possible.

"I wouldn't move if I were you," Scott's blood pretty much froze as he looked at the source of the voice. The handsome ginger from last night. Dressed in sweatpants and a simple T-shirt. Scott's blurry recollection of last evening had him in a black suit with a dark red shirt. There was not a scratch visible on him. He didn't look at all like he just woke up after a night of drinking and sex. Scott, no matter how hard he tried, never looked this good on a morning after. "The name's fWhip, since I'm pretty sure you must have forgotten most of last night, and I'm afraid I have to apologise," he spoke as he calmly approached the bed as Scott continued to struggle to sit up.

"What for?" Scott huffed as fWhip pushed him down.

"Accidentally marking you as mine," he said as if it wasn't a massive disaster. Being marked by an Other Worlder was bad for Scott. It was like a marriage. Unless there was a way to remove it, Scott was stuck with fWhip for the rest of his life. "And stop trying to sit up, it'll only make it hurt more. Once we talk I'll bring you food and all that," he huffed, baring his long, sharp-fanged teeth. 

A vampire. Scott was as good as dead. He was going to be fWhip's mobile snack until the vampire got bored of him. He went slack and let fWhip arrange him as he pleased. It didn't matter if he struggled, fWhip was in all ways superior to him. "Talk about what?" Scott asked, ignoring how pain lessened when he touched Scott. 

"What happens now, I can't just let you go, that'd be bad for both of us, especially you," fWhip started, keeping one hand on top of Scott's. "So it'll be best if you stay here and let me take care of you," Scott wanted to scream and protest but unfortunately fWhip was right. If he just wandered about with fWhip's mark on him he'd be in a lot of trouble. But it still stung. "I promise to make sure you're comfortable and want for nothing since it was my poor self-control that led to this," fWhip promised, yeah right, he was likely lying to keep Scott calm and controlled. But he did gently grab the hand he was constantly touching and gently kissed it. "So?"

"So what? Not like saying 'no' is an option for me," Scott huffed. In case fWhip wasn't lying, he'd live comfortably. He could take occasional biting. "You promise you're not lying and going to kill me?"

"If I wanted to do that you wouldn't even wake up," fWhip's words did nothing to calm Scott. "You're safe here," he added as if sensing the human's nervousness, and gave his forehead a soft kiss. "Stay here, I'll bring you food," he then announced and left Scott to hurt in the massive bed.

Scott sighed and deflated even further once alone. What a mess he got himself into. There wasn't even a mirror in the room. Maybe rumours of vampires having no reflection were true? Damn Other Worlders doing as they please. At least fWhip was handsome, even when dressed down.

He was pale, as expected from a vampire. His eyes were a very pretty shade of blue. Scott heard rumours that vampire's eyes turned red when they were hungry. If it were true fWhip ate recently. Last night possibly. Unfortunately, he had no idea how often a vampire might need to drink blood. And he was a bit freaked out to ask. With a hiss, he checked his neck as well as he could with no mirror. There should be a mirror in his bag, but that wasn't anywhere nearby.

"Don't worry, I ate before we met and won't need to for a while," fWhip was back, with a bed tray of breakfast. For an immortal with no need for food, he was doing great taking care of Scott so far. Other than 'unintentionally' marking him that is. "I'll need your address," he said, quite randomly as Scott eyed his food. Was it really safe?

"What for?" Scott asked, eyes snapping to the vampire.

"To go get your things," fWhip explained, putting an elegant notebook bound in black leather with a pen attached to it with a golden chain. Scott knew being marked and staying with fWhip meant he'd have to move his things. But it really sunk in right there. fWhip meant to keep him around for longer. Why else would he associate with him as far as to go to his apartment?

"I'll need my bag. My keys are there," Scott said after a deep breath. It was best for him to stay with fWhip. To both avoid his enemies, he did not doubt that fWhip had those and anyone else who would see to harm him because of his 'Other Worlder' relations. fWhip was the safest option even if some biting would be involved.

fWhip vanished one second and next was back, on the other side of the bed, with Scott's bag. "All that can wait, eat first," he said and settled on the bed next to Scott. One arm wrapped around Scott as well as he could with him half lying. It was comforting considering it lessened the pain. But also rather intimate. Well, by fWhip's standard, they were as good as married even if by accident. "You can ask anything, I understand it's all much," he offered as Scott ate very slowly.

"Can I have some clothes?" Scott asked before he could stop himself. fWhip didn't have to be in any way okay with him not being naked.

"Sure, but eat first," fWhip shockingly agreed and went to what had to be his closet and soon came back with a T-shirt and shorts for Scott. Maybe he was being honest about taking responsibility and taking care of Scott. "I'm not going to hurt you, you can relax, I won't even bite you if you're uncomfortable with it," he assured as he settled back on the bed.

"How often do you..." Scott for some reason felt weird thinking about fWhip biting someone else.

"About once a month, unless I have to be in the sun a lot or fight someone," fWhip explained with no hesitation. Scott internally awarded him a few 'trust points'. "If that happens then it might be two or three times a month. That is without totally draining a person," it weirdly calmed Scott. So his life wasn't in total danger even if...

Scott calmly finished eating and wrote his address for fWhip. The vampire told him to sleep, as he himself get dressed in a freaking suit. He looked unfairly good in one. Like really unfairly good. Was Scott going to have to wear suits near him? If he was ever taken to any Other Worlder functions then probably yes. With a proper marking of his connection to fWhip. A vampire's snack and arm candy. What a turn of life. And shockingly, now that he hurt a bit less and had eaten he wasn't all that against it.

"Just rest, I'll be back before you realise it," fWhip promised once he was dressed. And gave Scott's forehead another soft kiss. Scott just hummed. He was indeed feeling rather tired.

Scott woke up slightly confused but well-rested and in a negligible amount of pain. It was there but he could ignore it. Oh. And with an urge to see fWhip who was nowhere to be seen. "Liar," Scott mumbled as he got dressed. He froze when he heard someone. A female voice call out for fWhip.

There were no signs that fWhip lived with anyone. Not that Scott saw any more but his bedroom. But it just didn't feel like it. So he assumed it was some acquaintance. 

But what should he do? He had no way of contacting fWhip. But he also didn't want to be found in fWhip's bed. Wearing his clothes. If he could show fWhip's mark then maybe he'd feel comfortable facing this stranger. But he didn't even know where it was. Nowhere he could see without a mirror. He could only hope it was nowhere too indecent. 

"fWhip? Brother?" another call had Scott almost jumping up. Brother. One mystery resolved. It was fWhip's sibling. Less likely to attack Scott on the spot without an explanation from fWhip. With that hope, Scott went to find the voice. Hoping fWhip would be back soon.

In the living room, looking around was a ginger-haired woman. Clearly a vampire from what Scott knew about fWhip. And it was his sister, it'd be hard for her to not be one.  "I'm sorry but fWhip's not home," he said hiding as well as he could in the red T-shirt. 

The woman spun to stare at him. And sighed. "What. An. Idiot. Leaving a human alone? What if someone else came here?!"  she ranted, waving her arms. Scott just curled up by the wall. She was scary.

"Dear sister, please stop scaring my human," Scott almost jumped at fWhip's voice. And ran up to him as soon as he saw him. "Scott..." the vampire sighed petting his hair. "You should still be resting," he said but all it did was make Scott grab at his jacket. Gently, he didn't want to wrinkle it but still. "How about you start unpacking? You can move my stuff if you need, and I join you as soon as I get my sister to leave?" he offered and kissed the top of Scott's head.

Was fWhip really as fond of him as he seemed or was it the accidental mark? "Fine," Scott huffed, not even commenting on how the suitcase, which moved towards the bedroom on its own was clearly too small for all his stuff. He just assumed it was magic. fWhip was an Other Worlder after all. Scott would probably have to get used to weird things.

As soon as he the door closed he could hear the woman nagging fWhip. There was no other way to describe it.

"Why is there a human in your house?" she asked. Scott could imagine her arms were crossed and one-foot tapping.

"I accidentally marked him so I'm taking the responsibility," fWhip sighed. As if he really didn't want to explain. "Shouldn't you be happy I have SOME company? YOu always complain about how I never go anywhere and just stay home on my own?"

"So you didn't force him?" she asked.

"Gem. Dear sister, what about me gave you that idea?" fWhip chuckled. "It was an accident. I'd feel bad if he got killed, by either side, for my foolishness. Neither did I want to kill him which would be the only solution..."

"So what? You're going to keep him now? Like some pet?" Scott curled up. He did not like that word.

"Don't be ridiculous Gem, he's more of a guest," fWhip's response did not make him feel any better. Part of him hoped he was just saying it to get his sister to leave.

"A guest that shares your bed?" Oh. So there was only one? How... Unfortunate.

"Not like I use it much."

Scott could not listen to them for much longer and made his way to fWhip's closet. Which was massive and had plenty of free space and only minimal rearranging was needed to fit Scott's clothes. His electronics he just left on a low table in the bedroom. Just in time for fWhip to walk in. 

Blazer off and ready to be carelessly dropped to a chair. "I'm sorry I'm late, I got slightly lost," Scott nodded at his apology. "Scott? Are you hungry again?"

"That's not it... What are we exactly? I'll need to let a few people know where I went to and... I have no idea how to explain it without worrying anyone," Scott scrambled for a reason. 

"Well, by law I think the equivalent would be marriage but I'm not going to force you into it," fWhip settled next to Scott on the small couch. "So call it whatever you feel most comfortable with, I'm not going to be offended."

Scott hummed. Was he ready to say he got married? No. That he got a vampire boyfriend? A clingy one at that? Maybe. "So, boyfriends then?" he offered, cuddling up to fWhip who did not push him away.

"Sure, if that's what you want."

"Mhm... Is the mark making me clingy? I woke up annoyed you're not here," he huffed, moving to sit in fWhip's lap. 

"Believe it or not, I don't really know much about marks, I never really marked anyone before either. I could have asked Gem but I kinda wanted to be alone with you so... It's possible it's making us both clingy," he chuckled pulling the human into a loose hug. "So what are we doing now? Going out? Staying home? A friend of mine is throwing a party I could bring you along to, really show off?"

Scott didn't really mind being showed off by fWhip. But there was a thing he did have issues with. "I can dress up for you I guess, but... No biting anyone else," he huffed and kissed fWhip. They did not go anywhere or inform anyone about anything until the next day.

[dracarialove]

📄 F it, I'm posting my finished fics here, too 📄

Heartfelt Holidays

*Check the 'heartfelt holidays' tag if you haven't read chapter 1

[Chapter 6: Christmas at Sonic's]

Sonic invites his friends over to swap gifts on a cold winter day, participating in a tradition of sharing kindness with the people he likes most.

December was a cold month, pelting strong, crisp gusts of wind against the rounded clay walls of Vanilla's home. The chilled air kept her guests inside, Sonic and his friends sitting about the living room with cups of tea and plates of baked snacks.

"Thanks for letting us stay a while, Vanilla," said the Blue Blur, lounging in a recliner and idly twirling a ring-shaped cookie around his finger. "It sure beats being out there."

"Of course, dear," the kind woman replied. "Hopefully the breeze doesn't become too harsh."

She looked out the window and took a sip of her tea, gazing at the few flittering leaves that still clung to the trees' outstretched branches – the wind came in bursts, but the clear sky wasn't yet dropping snow on them.

Tails spoke up while inching closer to the burning fireplace, "At least we have shelter and warmth; but, you know, some people love this kind of weather! I've heard there are humans who've made special traditions for the cold season."

"Oh yeah!" Amy chirped, as if she'd just been reminded of something forgotten. "They give each other presents, right?"

"Yeah, usually," answered Tails. "There are different traditions, I think... but I've heard one of them is called Christmas."

Sonic took a bite of his cookie and leaned forward in his chair when the fox added, "I might have a book about it somewhere."

"Sounds awesome!" he blurted, dropping crumbs onto the plate in his lap. "We should do something like that!"

Amy looked over at him and agreed excitedly, "I think so, too!"

Knuckles, who had situated himself on the floor between Sonic's and Amy's seats, spoke up, "Sonic should throw this party." He turned to his speedy friend and smiled. "You've been going to all these events hosted by other people – so it's your turn, now, right?"

The hedgehog grinned back. "Sure! As long as I don't have to invite a bunch of people. You know my house isn't really that big. Let's say we only invite our friends."

Knuckles' posture relaxed a bit as he let out a light, relieved sigh. "Ah, so we won't have any thieves or troublemakers showing up. I like the sound of that!"

"Hm, well..." Sonic started, cupping his chin in contemplation. "If you're talking about Rouge and Shadow... I'd consider them friends! Omega, too!"

Both Knuckles and Amy exclaimed, "What?!" and stared at their companion with perplexion.

He rubbed the back of his head and changed his expression to one of awkward defensiveness. "I mean... they've helped keep the world safe, right? They deserve some kindness."

Amy's gaze was uneasy, and Knuckles crossed his arms at the sentiment; but it was Cream who expressed what they were thinking. "Are you sure they would be nice guests, Sonic? I'm afraid they won't like being there."

"Yeah..." Amy cut in. "This isn't like Valentine's Day; it's bigger than that. And even I was kind of glad that Shadow didn't show to my party. Plus, I think Rouge stole some of the snacks I put out that day!"

"W-well, those were for anyone to have, right?" replied Sonic, once again awkward and scratching his head. He took a quick second to think, then grinned again and snapped his fingers as a solution came to him. "They might not be the warmest people, but I'll bet I can at least get Rouge to understand what the season's all about. And she might even be able to convince Shadow to chill out, for once! If she can't..." He shrugged. "... he doesn't have to go."

After a quiet moment, Tails smiled hopefully and said, "I trust you, Sonic. I think it'll be a great time with you as our host."

Picking up another cookie, the speedster glanced between all of them. "Don't you guys worry about a thing – I've got this."

The rest of the group also exchanged looks, silently agreeing that they would leave the planning to Sonic and have faith in his efforts to throw a fun party for everyone.

***

After the hefty winds died down, Sonic and his friends left Vanilla's home, parting ways to spend the rest of their day on their own activities. Since he now had an event to prepare for, the blue hedgehog decided his best first step would be to talk to Rouge.

He traveled into the city as the late afternoon sky darkened a bit, transitioning into early evening and bringing more guests to the bat's business. Walking through the casino lobby, he weaved around patrons and looked for Rouge, eventually spotting her at the bar.

She was resting on a stool with one leg crossed over the other, her back to the big wooden surface, her elbows planted on the bar top, and a glass of something in her hand.

Her attention was on the bartender – who seemed to be holding a conversation with the charming woman – while Sonic made his way over.

"Heya, Rouge!" the young hero said, loudly enough to be heard over the music, and threw himself energetically onto the seat next to her.

She startled slightly, her teal gaze snapping towards him as her mouth hung open to pull in a soft gasp. Her expression relaxed when she saw his charismatic smile. "Oh, Sonic, what a surprise! Did the cold push you in here?"

"Nah," he said, swatting the air with one hand. "I came to visit you! Got some news for ya."

"Ah, let me get you a drink, first," the pretty bat insisted, turning to the tender. "Something light for our hero, here."

Sonic raised one brow, his witty smile sticking. "On the house? How much is that gonna cost you?"

She shrugged, letting her eyes close in a confident expression. "Nothing, really. The light stuff is cheap, but I'll spare a friend a few rings' worth for a nip."

A small opaque bottle thunked against the wood as it was placed in front of Sonic, soon being wrapped in the hedgehog's gloved grip. "Heh, still – that's thoughtful of you. And speaking of us being friends, I wanted to invite you to a little holiday party I'm throwing at my place."

"Really?" Rouge asked, eyelids raising in fascination at the hearty first swig he took from the bottle. "What's the occasion?"

"Something called Christmas. Tails was talking about it... you give each other gifts, and really just hang around the people you like. So, it won't be anything huge, but I thought it was only fair to invite you since you invited me to your party."

"Hmm... well, I do love receiving gifts," she conceded. "Alright, I'll go. What about-"

"Omega and Shadow are invited too," he interrupted, "but... it's supposed to be, like, a peaceful holiday. So-"

"Shadow will have to behave?" she interrupted back, smirking playfully.

Sonic nodded. "If he decides to go at all, that is. Maybe you could...?"

He gestured towards her, grinning again and making her chuckle. Then, she gave him a wink and said, "Can't make any promises, but I'll see what I can do. If I can't convince Shadow, I'll still bring Omega."

"Nice!" He sat up straight and took another drink, then looked around the lobby. "You know, I'm glad this place gets such good business. You run it really well."

"Aw, thanks, Big Blue," Rouge responded, then took a sip from her own glass.

They chatted a bit longer, until Sonic's drink was empty, then he said his goodbye and left her to talk over the invitation with Shadow. He stepped out onto the downtown sidewalk and breathed in the cold air, thinking about the list of things he'd need to put together in preparation for the party.

In the hidden top floor of Club Rouge, the darker hedgehog stood staring at his golden wristwatch, making a mental note of the time and the rising number of patrons that came with it. With the evening crowd entering the building at a faster pace than they were leaving, he made his decision to vacate the club soon.

When his eyes left the watch, they landed on Rouge's empty bed, resting against the wall on the opposite side of the small room. Her blanket was tossed aside, bunched up near the foot of the bed, and the pillow laid slightly askew – and, strangely, Shadow felt the urge to tidy it.

For a moment, he held back, arguing with himself that she could straighten her own quarters; but it was oddly bothersome, and compounded with the fact that she had let him stay there regularly since the night they...

He shook the thought away and approached the disorganized bed. His partner wasn't around to see his thoughtful gesture, anyway, so what would it hurt if he fixed something that was out of place?

Steady hands straightened the blanket along the mattress, then smoothed out the creases. He grabbed the pillow to align it, then noticed that it was fairly lumpy in places.

How could Rouge – as particular as she was about the immaculateness of her possessions – stand to lay her head on such an uneven surface?

Shadow lifted the pillow, intent on fluffing it for her, but paused when he saw the glittering stone that'd been lying underneath. Shining shades of purple gleamed along angular edges; the Chaos Emerald he'd gifted her sitting pretty on its side.

It rested in a little divot, likely pressed into the mattress by the weight of Rouge sleeping on top of it. Involuntarily, the hedgehog's mouth curled into a warm smile, and he fluffed the pillow diligently before replacing it over the Emerald.

A moment later, he heard the creak of the wooden hatch door being pushed open, and his attention was drawn to the winged club owner entering her room.

"Oh, good, you're awake," she started, her glossed lips carrying a dazzling smile as she walked up to the stolid being. Turquoise eyes glanced down his form briefly before she asked, "On your way out?"

Shadow nodded; his smile having calmed into a more subtle curve. "You know I'd rather not be here when your customers start to get rowdy."

"I know," replied the woman, playfully rolling her eyes as one hand drifted to grip her hip. "It's a routine at this point. But, hey, before you go, I did want to bring something up..."

She expected a reaction – a change in his demeanor, the disappearance of his calm smile, maybe even a scoff – but Shadow only stood and listened, waiting for her to finish her thought. "It's... well, it's another holiday... thing."

"Uh huh?" Shadow nodded again, his smile slowly fading this time into a more neutral expression.

Rouge chuckled awkwardly. "Not my most graceful start... hell, I'll just say it: Sonic is hosting a party at his house in about a week, and he invited us to stop by. Shocking, I know, but he says it's a tradition to give gifts and show kindness, so he's including us if we want to attend."

She slowed her cadence a bit, speaking more gently after getting past the most important part. "It'll be small, he said, so I'm interested in getting a gift and seeing what this celebration's all about."

At first, Shadow didn't respond, then shifted his body language as if he were about to decline. Though, he paused and took a moment to think; one that lasted too long for Rouge's patience, so she spoke again. "I'll be bringing Omega, but... it's fine if you don't want to go."

His crimson eyes drew back up to her face, a bit surprised that she was offering him a choice to avoid the festivity. Her mature, pleasant tone continued as she added, "It's supposed to be a peaceful holiday. And if you think you can't get along with Sonic or... the rest of them... for a few hours, then it would be against the caring spirit of this season to force you."

She gave the hedgehog a kind, knowing smile, and he felt the sincerity behind her words. It made his own smile reappear, and Shadow's smooth, deep voice matched the calmness of her timbre. "I will consider it, while I'm gone and have some time to think. But don't get your hopes up."

A faint smirk played at the corner of Rouge's lips while she dragged one index finger in a cross formation over her heart, silently promising not to expect the answer she wanted.

In return, her teammate exhaled through his nose in a soft laugh, then stepped towards the treasure hunter and smoothly wrapped his arms around her waist until he was gingerly gripping her back.

Her smirk quickly dropped and bright eyes widened in surprise. His cheek brushed against hers, and he closed his eyes to savor the rare instance when he felt strongly enough to act on the fondness he possessed for his truest friend.

The unexpected hug was Shadow's first unprompted show of affection since their kiss on the moonlit rooftop – and it left the bat charmed and blushing. She returned the hug and gave his back a firmer squeeze than the tender embrace he held.

Then, the space between them grew, and Shadow's arms slipped backwards until he was no longer holding her. There were no words between the two before he left her establishment; none were needed when they knew exactly how the other felt.

There was only a long, endearing glance and serene smiles spreading across their muzzles, until the hedgehog disappeared from Rouge's sight through the hatch's opening.

***

The day of Sonic's party closed in over the course of a week, giving his invitees time to find gifts for each other while the blue hero decorated his house with strings of white lights, lining them along the top edge of his home's sky-colored walls.

He'd also picked out a present for each of his friends – even the ones who might not show – which he laid neatly on a square-shaped table in the corner of the living room.

And on Christmas Day, he set up a smaller table for snacking, where he put together plates of cheese and crackers; tea sandwiches; a few different types of sodas; and, of course, a stack of chilidogs. He was putting a CD of angelic instrumental music into the stereo when he heard the first knock on his door.

"Welcome, winter wanderers!" he greeted, his smile wide as he looked upon his dearest companions.

Tails, Amy, Cream, and Vanilla were the first ones to arrive – with their larger friend, Big the Cat, following behind – all wearing something warm to combat the lowering temperature, and three of them carrying colorful boxes.

Cream had Cheese wrapped in a small blanket and was cradling them closely to her fluffy sweater. The weather wasn't too frightful, but the afternoon sky was darker than usual, and Sonic could feel a chill lingering through the entrance.

He opened the door more and beckoned them inside. "Get in here before the cold bites ya!"

"Pretty lights, Sonic!" Cream piped as they walked in, her head tilted upwards and brown eyes shimmering.

"Thanks!" He closed the door once Big managed to squeeze through. "Sorry I don't have a fancy fireplace, or anything. Hope it's warm enough in here for all of you."

Amy turned around, her white scarf flowing to one side, and said, "It feels just fine! Here – my present."

She held out the purple box, which bore a big pink bow, and Sonic smiled as he took it in both hands. His grateful expression made her blush, and she said sweetly, "I didn't know if you'd wanna open it now."

The speedy hedgehog looked up at her and responded, "We'll do gifts a little later, once everyone's here. I don't want anyone to miss out!"

Amy watched as he walked towards the table in the corner, his confident voice announcing, "You guys can put all the presents here, for now."

Their boxes joined the ones Sonic had prepared while another few knocks rapped on the door, heavier this time. His spirits rose as he strolled over to open it, being met with Knuckles; who had thrown a thick green beanie over his head.

"Hey, Knux, come on in! That's half of the guests already – can't wait to see everyone in the same room."

His excitement was palpable, his grin growing and his posture so proud that he looked an inch taller. When Knuckles walked in and trailed his eyes over to the gift table, his own posture slumped a little, and guilt entered his expression. "Oh, Sonic, I... I forgot I was supposed to bring something."

Sonic looked at the table, then back to his friend, his smile never changing. "That's okay, man." He threw an arm around the echidna and walked with him towards the rest of the group, who were getting comfortable on the couch and in collapsible chairs. "We're just happy to have you here. Take a load off!"

Knuckles' face brightened and he took a seat on the sofa next to Cream and her mother. They all settled in to play a card game and have some snacks, erecting a table in the center of the circle before Sonic dealt out the deck. The friendly competition among the group heated up as the game went on, and a little while later, two more guests arrived.

"Hello, Sonic," greeted Blaze, standing next to Silver and holding two small gold-and-blue striped boxes.

"Blaze, Silver!" he said back, exuberant and letting them in quickly. He didn't manage to fully close the door before the presents were taken from the cat's hands by Silver and handed to Sonic.

"When do we exchange gifts?" he asked, his yellow eyes glimmering happily.

Sonic chuckled and accepted the boxes. "A little later. I'll just put these with the rest."

"Oh," Silver started, noticing the corner table while Blaze joined the others. "No, please, allow me."

A bright blue aura formed around the little boxes and lifted them from Sonic's hands, then floated over to the table with the rest of the presents. The young host offered for the pair to join their card game; and when Silver turned to do just that, Sonic attempted to properly close the front door.

But the wooden slab thumped against something solid and refused to move further, which made him open it again. Towering over the hedgehog was E-123 Omega. His robotic hand pulled back from where it had halted the door, and his monotone voice soon followed the action.

"GREETINGS, SONIC. I UNDERSTAND WE HAVE RECEIVED INVITATION TO ATTEND A FESTIVITY AT YOUR LOCATION."

"Heh, you got it, Omega," he answered, amused. "That must mean Rouge is right behind you."

"Hey, Blue," said the bat, peering around Omega's form as he turned to let her pass. She was wearing a plum-colored overcoat and clutching a red box in her arms. "Let us in already, would ya?"

"Of course!" he piped, faintly sheepish at his hesitance to invite them inside.

Just before he moved to allow them room, he spotted Shadow standing behind Rouge and Omega, looking off to the side with a neutral expression.

Although he was partly grateful for the sight, he also felt a shallow drop in his stomach; but a bit of nerves wouldn't be enough to stop the friendly man from letting them join the party.

Rouge handed off the gift as they walked in, letting Sonic take care of it while she began removing her coat. Omega's metal frame thankfully fit through the doorway, but the blue hedgehog was glad he hadn't invited anyone else as he glanced over the guests filling most of his small living room.

He gave Shadow a smile in a show of good will, but it wasn't returned, and he was ignored instead. The dark speedster didn't even look at him, although Sonic preferred that over a sneer or an insult. He supposed it was Shadow's way of being civil.

Closing the door once more, the host placed Team Dark's present with the rest while addressing the invitees. "Now that everyone's here, we can start the gift exchange soon!" He turned to his newest guests and added, "Find yourselves a comfy spot and then I'll get to passing around the boxes."

Rouge nodded in acknowledgement and the three of them joined the large group of friends all gathered in the center of the room, settling themselves so that the treasure hunter rested on Omega's flattened palm while he and Shadow sat on the floor.

The chattering attendees talked amongst themselves and Sonic looked over the presents, preparing to gather them up; then, he heard an unexpected knock on the door.

Puzzled, he tried to think of who it could be. He hadn't invited anyone else, and his home was nearly at capacity. But he answered the door, confused and surprised to see Team Chaotix on the other side.

"Hey, Sonic!" Vector belted. "We heard through the grapevine that you were havin' a party! Hope all the snacks aren't gone yet!"

The crocodile started to walk in, coaxing Sonic to shift aside while he struggled to figure out what he wanted to say – and while the host was attempting the start of his sentence, Vector held up a yellow box with red ribbon.

"Don't worry, we all brought gifts!" he said with a toothy smile. "That's the theme here, right?"

"Uhh-" Sonic tried to protest, but felt bad about doing so.

He let the detectives in, worrying over the lack of space, and closed the door for the final time. His living room was packed with their arrival, but he didn't want to ruin the night by kicking them out; and they had brought gifts with them, each member of the team carrying their own colored box.

Espio turned to Sonic and asked, "Where should we put these?"

Before the hedgehog could point to the table behind them, Charmy shook his gift and interrupted, "We couldn't get presents for everybody, so these are for whoever wants 'em!"

"Oh, um..." The green-eyed hero switched his gaze to the table they'd set up for their card game, noticing that the others had cleared it off, and decided that was a better spot for the ownerless parcels. "Over there is fine, in the middle of the group. I'll be handing out all the gifts here in a sec, but... sorry, I don't have any for you guys."

"That's alright!" replied Vector, clapping Sonic on the back. "We're mostly here for the camaraderie and the food, right, boys?"

Charmy exclaimed, "Right!" while Espio gave a single nod, then the three of them added to the cluster of people and left their boxes on the empty table. Sonic took a breath and quickly gathered himself to scoop up some of the gifts his guests had brought, passing them out based on who they were addressed to.

"We'll do the special ones first," he explained, humbly glazing over his boxes which remained on the table.

And once the initial presents were doled out, he handed the Chaotix' gifts over to Knuckles, Amy, and Rouge – letting them be the ones to open and announce the mystery items after the personalized surprises were revealed.

Wrapping paper started to crinkle as most of the group began tearing it off. The host himself first opened the blue and yellow present he'd gotten from Blaze and Silver, his eyes glancing over at the identical one they'd given Tails.

From the small boxes, the pair pulled flat silver medallions that hung on a thin chain, each bearing the shape of half a Chaos Emerald. The fox's blue gaze brightened when Sonic held up his half, and the two shared a smile before the hedgehog looked over at his futuristic friends.

Recognizing them as the gift-givers from Sonic's cue, Tails spoke to Silver and Blaze, "Is this a set of one of those friend necklaces?"

The princess nodded and smiled as she continued peeling paper from her present, while Silver answered, "They're best friend necklaces! We thought it fit you guys perfectly."

"Thanks!" beamed Tails, happily knocking his shoes together and lifting the jewelry for a better look.

Rouge leaned towards the cat – who'd gotten the red wrapping off and was removing tape from the box's flaps – and said in a leading tone, "Those are some shiny pieces of metal you got for the boys. I might be a bit jealous! But I hope you like the one I got for you."

She straightened her posture as Blaze made eye contact, the bat's expression turning cheeky while she primped one of her curls. Curious, the fire-user opened the box and asked, "So you got this for me? Strange, I wouldn't expect a gift from you."

Inside the abundance of tissue paper was a large, heavy hairclip in the shape of a crown, colored gold and stamped with a ruby decal. Blaze's eyes widened a bit as she took in the nature of the present, feeling the heft in her hand while still taken slightly aback that Rouge had gotten her something.

The jewel thief took it upon herself to fill the silence between them, claiming, "It's just something I saw, and I thought it looked pretty. Then I thought, 'Who could even use such a thing?' And you were the lucky winner on that one, Blaze."

"Ah, well, thank you," she replied, smiling softly to show appreciation for the gesture.

Once Tails had hooked the silver emerald's chain around his neck, he looked towards Cream sitting on the couch; she and Cheese were working together on opening their gift, one which was hugged by pastel green paper and topped with a shiny red stick-on bow.

His smile grew knowing what was inside, and how likely they both were to utilize it, even after Christmas. As they took off the last bit of wrapping, he leaned forward and told Cream, "That one's from me!"

"Thank you, Tails!" she said back through a cute grin, then opened the box and picked up a deep-red stocking with designs of snowflakes and stars in white and gold colors. "Wow, it's so pretty!"

"Chao!" Cheese blurted, then dove into the opening and claimed the stocking as a sleeping bag.

Amy and Sonic giggled at the Chao's excitement before the pink hedgehog turned to her crush. "Sonic, I can't wait any longer for you to open my present!"

"Oh, right!" he said, grabbing up the purple box that'd been sitting on his lap. He ripped off the bow and the wrapping in three easy swipes, then popped open the cardboard flaps. "Woah!"

The hero was quick to pull the radar gun from its containment, noting its high-tech design and bold blue coloring. Amy said, "Tails helped to make it so it could detect super high speeds – even yours."

She gave the fox a wink of shared success while Sonic turned on the device and marveled at the interface; which was interactable and also seemed to be capable of playing music. "This is cool! Thanks, guys!"

On the other side of the circle, Silver was unveiling his gift from Cream and her mother: a framed photo of their group, containing most of the friends he'd gotten to know since meeting Sonic.

Vanilla noticed the slight sparkle in his eyes that suggested he was close to tearing up, and so she explained in her calm, polite tone, "It's been a while since you've had something to take back to your time. My Cream thought you would like something nice and new to remember us all by once you return to the future."

Cream gave the white hedgehog a wide smile and received one from him, as well, while he clutched the frame close to his chest. "I love it!"

With the first batch of personalized gifts opened, Sonic began gathering up the paper that'd found its place on the carpeted floor. He threw the scraps into a trash bag while announcing, "Alright, guys, now let's see what the Chaotix brought for us."

"We didn't pick them out for anyone specific," Vector added, "so don't everybody clammer to take 'em home all at once!"

He said as much, but the crocodile was secretly hoping that his matronly crush would want to take home the present he'd donated. Though, he already had to make peace with her overwhelming politeness to let someone else have it.

Amy, Rouge, and Knuckles pulled the different colored papers off the different sized boxes and opened them around the same time, calling out what each gift was and holding them up for the group to see.

Knuckles declared first, "This one looks like a music player," as he showed Vector's item. A number of people around the circle exclaimed softly with interest before Rouge reported her find with a touch of detachment.

"Action figures?" she said, tilting the box to display a collection of humanoid figurines. "Or... dolls? Whatever these are."

With a few chuckles and murmurs, everyone could guess it was Charmy's submission, so that left Amy to announce Espio's offering. She read the writing on the clear square-shaped case, "A CD mix of music for meditation."

A couple of nods showed a possible desire for his gift, and the small crowd soon filtered more closely together to decide who would get the extra presents.

Some who weren't interested took the opportunity to get a snack while Sonic cleaned up the last of the wrapping paper and collected his own boxed items from the corner table.

In the end, the attendees decided to let Big have the meditation mix, feeling it might get the most use during his fishing sessions; Tails and Cream split the action figures, choosing the ones they each liked; and, after a round of light debate, they ultimately conceded that Amy had the strongest library of tunes and deserved the music player the most.

"Alright, my friends," Sonic started, ramping up his host energy as he held the gifts he'd gotten, "I've got a present for – almost – everyone here, and hopefully they're just as good as all of yours!"

Most of his guests squirmed with anticipation as he started handing out boxes, though his darkest attendee blatantly rolled crimson eyes at the Blue Blur's modesty.

Shadow had been entirely silent during his time there, simply sitting with his arms crossed and watching everyone else, receiving brief glances from Rouge to make sure he wasn't brooding too much. But he thought he'd carried himself well enough so far, even after cementing the holiday as yet another pointless one in his mind.

When Sonic passed by their group and held out their presents, he outstretched one hand and let the host's humble donation fall into his palm. It was a tiny box compared to some of the others, wrapped in simple black paper and nothing else.

So, while not impressive in the slightest, it did make the Ultimate Lifeform wonder what his cheery rival thought a good gift was for someone who hadn't a need for nearly anything.

He unwrapped it before Sonic could finish handing out the presents, flicking aside the flimsy paper and staring down at a square-shaped slab of silver.

It was engraved with the image of a daffodil, the grooves of which shined when light passed over them; and when Shadow turned it over in his hand, he saw a split down one side of the metal. Still skeptical, he pried apart the magnetized halves, then was shocked by the picture inside of what he now recognized as a locket.

His eyes widened as he looked down at an old photo of Maria Robotnik, smiling at an angle that suggested it might've been taken by Professor Gerald. It was small in the locket and tiny in his hand, but Shadow felt the emotional weight of the gift growing – and it gave him questions.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, suddenly enough that it caught the attention of everyone around him. He looked up at Sonic, his brows furrowed again, and the accusatory tone of his voice hung in the air while the blue speedster paused.

"Oh, uh... let's just say you'd be surprised at the stuff Eggman held onto," he answered, grinning before turning to give out the last of the boxes.

The sound of ripped wrapping paper started up again and Shadow's eyes fell back onto the locket. Rouge leaned over to him while opening her gift and commented, "What a sentimental present. I guess Sonic knows you better than you expected."

He gave her a quick frown, then sat quietly thinking while the rest of the group gushed over their presents from Sonic. Knuckles received a squishy replica of the Master Emerald; one that fit in his hand, being dubbed a stress-emerald by his green-eyed friend.

"When you're feeling quick-tempered, give it a few squeezes," he explained. "It might help dissolve some of that stress you're always carrying around."

The echidna wanted to refute his assumption, but gripped the emerald instead and let it be. He could afford to give it a try, at least. Amy's voice pierced the living room in excitement as she pulled a porcelain rose from the pink-and-red box. Its smooth petals were also colored red and pink, and the base was wide enough for it to stand on its own.

"Oh, it's so beautiful!" she beamed, running her fingers over the flower. "Thank you, Sonic, it's the best present ever!"

"Heh, you're welcome," he replied, happy to see her so excited.

For Tails, he'd gotten a new gadget to enhance the speed of his plane – something Sonic didn't know much about, but he was confident the smart kid would find a way to install it.

Cream, Vanilla, and Cheese shared their gift, which was a box full of chocolate oranges; special treats that were only available during the winter season.

Big was more than happy to have been given a handful of brand-new fishing lures, instantly bringing out his tackle box to organize them with the others.

And the next person to fill the room with their voice was Rouge, dramatically gasping while she held up a bracelet. It was colored gold and encrusted with diamonds, seemingly real from the way they shimmered at every angle.

"Sonic! My goodness, wherever did you get a diamond bracelet?!" She hooked it around one wrist and flaunted her hand in the air, looking over at the Blue Blur.

He hesitated, then gave her a sly smirk. "You know, I'd rather keep that a secret. I think it's more special that way."

One of her brows lowered as she smirked back. "Fine! I'll just have to assume you went to great lengths for it."

Sonic chuckled and sat back in his chair, watching with a warm smile while the rest of his guests finished opening their gifts. He'd gotten Silver a specially crafted medallion with his signature colors, declaring the hedgehog an "expert time-traveler" and "savior of the future."

Blaze received a small statue of a phoenix, resembling her flame powers and her ability to come out on top in even the toughest battles. And finally, he gave Omega a stack of blow-up balloons plastered with a cartoonish decal of Eggman's face.

When the robot stared his way – in what could be considered confusion – Sonic sheepishly claimed, "Sorry, I had a bit of a tough time finding something for ya. But I thought you might at least enjoy destroying something with Eggman's ugly mug on it. You could blow up the balloons and then blow 'em up, you know?"

Rouge jumped in with, "It's a nice gesture," and patted Omega's headcap, which coaxed him to express appreciation for the present.

The group mingled for a while and finished off the snacks, dealing out another round of the card game they'd previously been playing. And as the evening drew on, it eventually got cold enough outside to start snowing.

Sonic noticed the small white flakes falling in front of his window and thought of how cozy it felt to have so many of his friends in one place. After a while, they started to tire of the party, and began filtering out with their presents in-hand.

The heroic host stood by his front door and saw out every one of them, saying his goodbyes as each of his guests left – but he stopped Team Dark for a more sincere farewell.

"Hey, before you guys go, I wanted to especially thank you for showing up." He spoke mostly to Rouge, but the other two heard his sentiment just as well. "It wouldn't have been the same without you three."

Behind his teammates, Shadow rolled his eyes again, while Omega said, "THANKS UNNECESSARY."

Rouge threw on her coat and countered, "Don't mind them. They won't admit it, but we all had a good time."

Sonic gave their group a nod and let them out the door, followed by the Chaotix and Vector speaking up, "Nice party, Sonic! We should make this a yearly thing!"

"Heh, I don't know about that, Vex! But I appreciate you stopping by."

Charmy chimed, "It was fun!" and floated out behind Vector.

Being the last one out the door, Espio stopped briefly and offered his hand for the hedgehog to shake. "This evening was one to remember – you were a gracious host."

"Hey, thanks," replied Sonic, his smile widening.

Espio's compliment made him feel the warmest as he watched his friends leave. And once he closed the door, he couldn't help but swell with contentment and grin to himself as he fully understood why the humans celebrated such a tradition.

[cssiop]

LA VIE EN ROSE… trent alexander-arnold

part two

trent buys white roses every week in maisie's flower shop, becoming her favourite customer.

trent alexander-arnold x fem!oc word count: 1.9k

other parts

"white roses?" wonders maisie jokingly when she sees trent walking through the door of the shop a few days after the torrential rains that had fallen on liverpool.

he nods with a laugh, "you're getting to know me," the same joking tone animates the corners of his mouth and maisie feels herself melting under his soft irises.

their little chat last time when the scouse weather decided to get wild seems to have made the two young adults more familiar with each other, especially when they realised they were the same age. maisie now feels more comfortable joshing with him than before, although his presence still intimidates her.

"soon i'll know everything about you," she laughs in a fake threatening tone.

trent bursts out laughing as if she had just made the joke of the century, and his eyes take on a special glow. they keep joking and talking about all sorts of things while maisie prepares the bouquet. she thanks her luck, there are not many customers on tuesday mornings so they can chat for longer than usual.

"you have good taste, you know. white roses are beautiful," says maisie as she adjusts the flowers together so that the bouquet is perfectly round.

"you too," trent replies and maisie watches his face break down into an embarrassed expression, "i mean... you have good taste too."

"thank you," maisie is unable to contain her delighted smile followed by a nervous chuckle, "do you know what white roses mean?"

trent shakes his head negatively, scratching the back of his neck, still embarrassed by the awkward moment he has just created, waiting to hear what the girl is thinking next. indeed, he has never wondered about their meanings, trent has just always found them particularly pretty.

"when you give them to someone, it's either as a sign of peace, reconciliation but it can also be a sign of respect when you think very highly of that person," trent smiles when she talks about respect because it fits perfectly with the person he's giving them to. "or, more rarely, we offer them to our secret love, someone we don't dare to admit our feelings to."

trent nods, he doesn't need to, but he thinks the meaning is still very nice. for him, the changing messages depending on the colour you choose shows a remarkable sensitivity that he hopes he has grasped. roses are the language of silent love. trent is a loving person, obviously, he adores them.

"and... how long have you been working here?" changes the subject trent.

"i used to help my grandmother when i was a kid, but it really became my job, i'd say, two years ago, when i moved to liverpool," says maisie.

trent nods, then bites the inside of his cheek, hesitating, "can i ask you where you used to live, or is that too weird? you're allowed not to answer me, i'll understand."

the young man starts scratching the back of his neck again and maisie can't help but smile. this little habit he has of being overly mobile whenever a situation embarrasses him is adorable according to the girl. his complacency touches her a lot, trent truly seems to be a sweet person, shy around the edges.

"no, it's okay," maisie reassures him, "i was in brighton for law school before, but i didn't like it anymore so i moved to liverpool to be closer to my grandmother. i'm from london actually," trent nods thoughtfully as she feels she's laying out her life too much in front of the man who is still a stranger.

just as maisie is about to add something, the bell rings and a customer in her twenties enters the shop. disappointed, she then cashes in trent and hands him his flowers before greeting the new customer, who is left speechless beside the man.

trent is, for sure, very handsome, has a smile that would make anyone fall over, and exudes charisma like no other, but the florist doesn't think that's a reason to be speechless in front of him.

especially since it's so strange.

trent then starts to act weirdly too, he seems to be in more of a hurry than before. in a flash, he has disappeared into the doorway, almost without a goodbye. frowning more, she watches the young woman in the shop close her mouth and pull herself together.

"hello, can i help you?"

"uh, i-, lisianthus please," says the still confused customer.

as she begins to prepare the bouquet, maisie asks, "is everything okay?"

"i guess so," the woman simply replies and the florist blows out a breath and decides to pretend nothing has happened.

her mind is absent all afternoon afterwards because she can't figure out why trent left so quickly. she didn't even have time to write on the little tag and she feels bad about it —maisie doesn't like to do her job halfway.

margaret, who has been in the shop for almost an hour, seems to notice. after cashing in a customer, she approaches her granddaughter before asking, "what's on your mind?"

"nothing. i'm just... tired," maisie finds it hard to explain what happened earlier since she herself has no explanation. her grandmother doesn't insist, and it's for the better.

when she closes the shop at the end of the day, maisie tries to put it out of her mind, but no matter how hard she tries, trent occupies her thoughts.

…

for a fortnight, trent doesn't show up at the belrose boutique, and maisie feels a little sad. she has the impression she did something wrong last time, especially when she thinks about the way he left without saying a word. so immersed in her thoughts and the flowers she is readjusting on the displays, maisie doesn't have the presence of mind to hear footsteps stop behind her.

"what kind of flowers are these?" trent asks as he leans over her shoulder to take a closer look at the bouquet she's holding in her hands, a bouquet that quickly ends up on the ground after the stupor the man's gesture has produced in her. "shit, sorry, i didn't mean to scare you," trent apologizes and the girl picks up the bouquet, getting up at the speed of light.

"uh... chrysanthemums," maisie stammers as she adjusts her hair, still embarrassed that he startled her again.

it's then that she realizes how close they are as they stand facing each other. trent is wearing a multi-colored jumper that must be worth more than the entire shop, accompanied by a long black coat that only he could wear without looking ridiculous, and maisie finds herself even more intimidated by the man. he's not even that tall but the aura he exudes has a way of charming, especially the girl, who can feel her face turning all pink.

for her sake, she takes two small steps back and trent finally greets her as maisie does the same. a small silence ensues where neither of them knows what to say. to be honest, maisie didn't expect to see him again —his departure was so precipitous the last time.

"you came back," the woman simply says with a small smile.

"yeah, i needed a few days to get over the 'you too' thing," laughs trent, still a little embarrassed, and maisie nods to let him know it's nothing. scratching the back of his neck, he continues, "sorry about last time, i left a little fast but i was in a hurry and-"

maisie cuts him off rather quickly, "it's okay, i promise. it's all good."

to tell the truth, the young woman is relieved. he seems sincere in his apology so the fear that it was her fault he left so quickly fades away.

"can i have some white roses then, please?"

as she does every time he comes in, maisie nods and begins her preparations. always finding something to say while waiting for his bouquet to be ready, trent seems unusually quiet this morning, except when he begins to hear the first notes of 'you'll never walk alone' over the shop's speakers.

he wonders, "football fan?"

frowning, maisie is confused, "what?"

trent then proceeds to explain how the song is related to football and especially to the club liverpool.

"oh. my dad is a fan of that club, that's probably why we have that song on the playlist in the shop, he must have added it," she finds herself talking a lot because she's coming to the end of the bouquet but for some reason doesn't want to see trent leave already. "to be honest, i don't know anything about football."

the subject broached, trent straightens up and a smirk appears on his mouth without maisie noticing, "you don't even watch the english team play?"

she huffs and puffs, "i must have watched the final last summer, what was it again?" her memories are hazy, but she had only followed the match with one ear.

"the euro. it was against the italians," trent's words bring back the girl's memory and she lets out a little 'ah yes'.

"do you follow football a lot?" maisie asks so innocently to continue the conversation. trent looks tired behind his small eyes and drawn features —she thinks he is probably having a bad day.

"i think it's cool," he shrugs.

"i think i only know a few of the players on the england squad. like mark rashford, harry keen and, and... and that's it really," she gives a little sorry pout.

her last sentence finally triggers a flash of hilarity in trent, and some of the tension in his shoulders disappears. really, the young man doesn't seem to be himself this morning. maisie smiles at his beautiful laugh, and inwardly applauds herself for having managed to cheer him up —even if she doesn't understand what's so funny.

"it's marcus, not mark and harry kane, not keen," trent corrects her once his laughter has subsided and he can pronounce his words clearly.

maisie's face immediately flushes and she doesn't dare to look the man in the eye anymore. finally, she bursts out laughing too. the situation is quite comical after all, her football knowledge is close to nothing.

"i didn't ask you last time, but why did you stop your studies? well, if it's not too indiscreet," he clears his throat, hoping he hasn't made a blunder, but when she hands him the bouquet with a reassuring smile, his widens with a relieved sigh.

"law school was too much pressure. i think it was definitely not for me. nothing particularly interesting, though."

but trent turns his head negatively, "i don't agree. it's good that you realized that early on. besides, florist suits you better, i think," he inquires and something in his deep voice makes her blush, forcing her to look away.

"thank you," maisie stammers, her cheeks flushing.

they look at each other for a long time, smiling, just separated by a counter and windows full of flowers of all kinds. the radio continues to play the same music in the background, and they seem to be caught up in another world, a dimension where time is suspended. trent suddenly opens his mouth, as if to say something, but is interrupted by the ringing of the bell and the doors opening.

"i've got to go," he murmurs, and grabs his bouquet in a hurry, "i'll be late for work."

with the will to ask him back what he does for a living, she doesn't even have time: trent is already out. so charmed, she doesn't notice the excited whispering of the boy in the red shirt tugging at his mother's jacket.

part 3

[mandiemon3]

The Best Revenge is Living Well- Chapter 8

“Hey,” Mo greeted. “You ready for our lesson?” Izzy turned to look at them from where he stood leaning on the railing of the ship.

“You’re a bit behind schedule. You usually beat me up here.” Izzy didn’t sound upset, just a bit curious.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I wanted to keep an eye on Lucius, make sure he wasn’t acting all weird around the crew.” His expression grew worried. “And?”

Mo took Izzy’s hand, smiling up at him. “And everything’s alright, love. No one commented on anything, and he showed no signs of cracking. He’s doing really well so far. So,” they changed the subject, “what are we working on tonight?”

Izzy cleared his throat, releasing Mo’s hand. “Well, since you’ve recovered from our last fight, I thought we might see how you can handle a sword.” He nodded to a sword he had leaned against a crate behind him.

Mo raised an eyebrow, smiling. “Really? I’m finally getting clearance to fight again?” Izzy nodded, giving a small smile. “Yes!” Mo exclaimed to the night sky, tossing their head back. Izzy laughed, brushing a strand of hair out of their face.

Mo’s smile dropped, remembering something. “What about your hand?” they asked. “It’s still pretty bruised from the whole biting incident.”

Izzy shrugged. “I’ve fought with worse,” he said nonchalantly.

Mo frowned. “I’m sure you have, but that doesn’t mean you should push yourself.”

Izzy smirked. “Think of it this way,” he said, “it’ll level the playing field.” Mo scoffed, making Izzy’s smirk turn into a grin.

“Oh really? That’s how you want to do this?” He nodded smugly. “Okay then, let’s do it. Are we fighting to disarm, or are we allowed minor injuries? You do say that you don’t learn from restraint,” Mo pointed out.

“That’s true,” Izzy said with a small smile, “but I think we both know it’s in your best interest if I show some restraint. Would you be alright with light injuries, just minor scratches and cuts?”

Mo nodded. “Yeah, that sounds fair. Please be careful not to stab me though. That would really put a damper on our relationship.” Izzy chuckled, shaking his head. “You have my word, darling.”

“Alright then, let’s get on with it.” Mo picked up the sword Izzy had brought out of storage for them, giving their partner a mischievous grin.

The pair positioned themselves in the middle of the deck, Izzy rolling up the sleeves of his shirt while Mo messily tugged up their own sleeves.

Once the two were prepared, Izzy drew his sword, giving his partner a moment to take their fighting stance before lunging at them. Mo swiped his sword to the left before counterstriking with a slash aimed at his right shoulder. Izzy stepped back, skillfully dodging. Back and forth they went, attacking and blocking, lunging and evading. Mo was hesitant to attack, not positive that they could hold back the appropriate amount, so they didn’t truly hurt Izzy if their blows landed.

Izzy swung at them, slicing the outer edge of their left bicep. It was a minor cut, not deep enough to warrant stitches, but it dragged Mo out of their thoughts. They stepped forwards quickly, forcing Izzy back as they attacked, still not putting their full strength into their swings, but making sure to stay quick and nimble. Izzy lunged forward, making to stab the outside of Mo’s left leg, but found his blade redirected with a swish, both fighters’ swords held above their heads. Mo took the opportunity to knee Izzy, making him falter as he stumbled backwards. They swung at his right arm, grazing his it as he dodged.

Mo could feel themselves tiring, losing momentum at their high intensity fighting. Their moves began to slow down, losing some of their precision. Izzy picked up on the change, using it to his advantage as he threw attack after attack their way, forcing them backwards until they tripped. Izzy swung his sword, moving to stab towards Mo’s throat, planning to force them to yield, but he was caught off guard as Mo kicked his leg out from under him, making him join them on the deck. Mo scrambled towards him, knocking his sword away and climbing on top of him, tucking their blade under his chin.

Izzy laughed, a full, boisterous laugh. His face was red and wet with sweat, his hair disheveled. His eyes gleamed with a wild light as he gazed up at Mo.

“Does that mean you yield?” they asked, smirking despite their panting breaths.

Izzy laughed again. “Yeah, I guess it does,” he got out, wheezing slightly as he fought for breath.

Mo stilled for a moment before removing their sword from under his chin, noting that he seemed to really like its presence there. They set it to the side before leaning down, brushing hair out of Izzy’s face and kissing him. He kissed back fiercely, sitting up to hold them on his lap, arms wrapped firmly around them, holding them in place. Mo knotted a hand in his hair, enjoying the small sound he made at the contact.

Realizing what they were doing, Mo pulled back, using Izzy’s hair as leverage to keep him from following them as they broke the kiss. Both red in the face, they panted as they struggled to catch their breath, leaning against each other. Once their heart rate had begun to slow down, Mo moved off of Izzy’s lap, settling down to sit next to him instead, greatly enjoying the red that still stained his face, knowing that their own was probably just as dark.

“Sorry, love,” Mo said. “Think you would agree that this isn’t the place for that though.” They smirked as a new wave of red washed over Izzy’s face and he looked down, unable to meet their gaze. They took his hand, clasping it with both of their own before raising it to kiss his knuckles.

Mo felt laughter bubbling up, their victory over the famed swordsman beginning to sink in. Izzy glanced at them, confusion written across his face. “I beat you,” they explained breathlessly. They laid down with a groan, releasing his hand to run their fingers through their hair, brushing it out of their eyes. “Black Pete’s going to shit his pants when I tell him. Ah, who am I kidding, no one would ever believe me. Maybe Frenchie, but no one else.” Izzy frowned. “I think they’d believe you. To be fair though, I was holding back. Didn’t want to break my promise and do you any real harm.” Mo reached out to hold his hand, feeling around on the deck until they found it. “I know, love,” they said. “If we met on opposing ships, I’m sure I’d be dead. Still though, this is a big deal, even if you do have an injured hand and an unwillingness to kill me. Do you think anyone else from my crew could have done that?”

Izzy snorted. “No way in hell. This lot wouldn’t know which end to hold a sword by.”

Mo ignored his quip about their crew, knowing it was closer to fact than fiction. They sighed. “It’s been ages since I’ve fought with a sword. I missed it, a bit.”

“You going to tell me how you know how to fight like that?” “You going to ask?” Mo retorted.

Izzy rolled his eyes, tilting his head to the side to look at them.

Mo paused, trying to decide how much to reveal. “I used to practice with my sibling,” they started to explain, sitting back up. “We would practice with sticks when we were little, but he always took it very seriously, insisting that if we were going to do it, we were going to do it right.” They snorted. “He was always really bad at it. He’s a lot bigger than me, very strong, but can’t maneuver for shit. He would always just yell ‘sweep the leg’ and lunge at me, but I don’t think he ever actually hit my leg, not even once. He could only ever beat me by clipping my finger or something so I couldn’t use my dominant hand. Never was able to get me in the abdomen for a kill shot.” Mo paused. “When we got older and he started getting in trouble around town, he stole us two swords off some people who docked nearby. He wanted us to be prepared in case anything bad happened.” “Because of the people around your town?” Izzy asked gently, rubbing their back, frowning at how tense the muscles were.

Mo nodded hesitantly. “Yeah. In part. We have a brother, too.” They grimaced, playing with their hands. “Not a good person. He, uh, he’s the main reason why I react to things the way I do. So, y’know, you can blame me biting you on him.” They have a halfhearted chuckle. “Anyway, we, uh, had to be ready for the worst. So, we practiced with our swords. I was never great, but I’d say I did better than Mal. We also did manual fighting, and archery.” They grinned, looking over at Izzy. “I’m actually really good at archery, not that you’re ever likely to see me shoot a bow out here.” Their grin faded, slowly being replaced by a frown. “I wanted to start practicing knife work when I had to leave. I had just gotten a set of knives that day, but there was no time. I, uh, haven’t seen my sibling since I left.” They wiped at their eyes, not realizing that they had started crying until they felt water hit their lap. Their voice began to shake, their hands balling into tight fights as they fought to keep it level. “I hope he’s doing alright out there, wherever he is. He’s strong, and kind, but he was always the type to get into stupid fights with everyone he met. Never had any common sense.”

Mo laughed sadly, wiping at their eyes. “Now I’m rambling. Gods, this is why I don’t talk about these things. Once I start, it all just bubbles up again.” They held their face in their hands, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to tear through their body, not wanting anyone to see them cry, not even Izzy.

Mo jolted when they felt hands on their sides, looking up to see Izzy pulling them closer, maneuvering them to sit between his legs and lean against his chest. They whimpered as he held them, rubbing their back and shushing them, whispering reassurances. They clung to his shirt, as if they were afraid something would rip them apart.

“If your sibling is anything like you,” Izzy said gently, “I’m sure he’s doing just fine. Is there any chance he joined a ship when things went south, or went somewhere else to hide?” Mo sniffled. “I guess. We both always talked about going to the sea as a backup plan, if things got too bad, but it was always hard to tell when he was being serious. He always fancied the idea of being a pirate.” Mo pulled away slightly, just enough to look up at Izzy. They smiled, despite the salty trail of tears running down their face. “He would love you.” Izzy smiled, his eyes soft. “A real pirate, the first mate of Blackbeard no less. That alone would blow his mind, but I think he’d like you for you, too. Might take him some time, but he’d get there.” “I’ll be content with just you liking me, for now.” Mo kissed his cheek before settling back down against his chest, trailing their fingers along his throat absentmindedly.

“When shit hit the fan, jumping a ship was the only thing I could think of,” Mo continued. “I panicked and just headed for the docks. It took a while to find a ship that would take me, even had to stow away a few times before I found Stede. I didn’t have time to find Mal, to make sure he was okay. I just had to get out of there alive, that was all I could manage. But we always did think alike, even if I am a bit better at it. Who knows, maybe he’s drifting along somewhere with his own crew.” Mo smiled faintly. “Maybe he has his own partner now. Someone to take care of and take care of him. Someone to love.” They wrapped their arms around Izzy, smiling as they felt his heart rate speed up through his leathers. “That’s the way I want to imagine him. Out on the sea, free, with friends who will protect him and pick him up when he’s down. Maybe we’ll cross paths with him someday.” Mo sighed. “I wonder if he’s looked for me,” they whispered.

Izzy tilted their face up to look at him, giving them a soft kiss as he cradled their head in his hand. When they pulled apart, he rested their foreheads together. “He’d be crazy not to,” he said. His voice was low and soft, his eyes brimming with emotion. Mo pulled him back down for another kiss, tangling their hand in his thick hair. They poured all of their affection into the kiss, wanting him to feel how much he meant to them, how much they appreciated him. They pulled back after a few moments, smiling when they saw Izzy’s slightly flustered expression.

“C’mon,” Mo whispered. “We shouldn’t be doing this out here either, where anyone could find us.” They laughed, resting their forehead against Izzy’s shoulder. “I think even the Swede could figure out that this isn’t how you normally act with the crew.” Mo pressed a kiss to the swallow tattoo on Izzy’s neck before clambering to their feet. Once steadied, they offered a hand to Izzy, pulling him up with a heave to stand beside them.

Mo sighed, rubbing away the last of their tears with a sniffle before running a hand through their hair. “I guess I should probably head for bed,” they said, the crack in their voice betraying their reluctance to say goodnight.

Izzy opened his mouth to say something before seeming to think better of it. He tried again, managing to get out a few words. “Would you like to spend the night in my cabin again?” He blushed furiously. “It…wouldn’t be very polite of me, to send you to bed upset.” Mo smiled. “I’m sure you’re asking for that reason alone, and not at all because you enjoyed my company last night.” They reached out to cup Izzy’s face, rubbing their fingers along his jaw, enjoying feeling the heat from his blush and his scruff. “Do you want me to spend the night with you again?” they asked gently. “I’d love to, but only if you want me to, not because you feel you need to.”

Izzy turned a brighter shade of red. “I-I would like you to,” he stammered out.

Mo gave him a brief but passionate kiss before taking his hand. “Come on then, let’s go.” They grinned at his stunned expression, gently leading him towards the door leading below deck.

The two walked down the winding hallways, still holding hands. Halfway to his cabin, Izzy stopped, cupping Mo’s face and leaning down to whisper in their ear, his hot breath tickling them.

“I need to go get Buttons for night watch. How about you get dressed for bed? I’ll meet you at my cabin.”

Mo nodded. “Yes, sir,” they replied quietly. “Don’t be too long.” Izzy smiled, cradling the back of their head and pressing a kiss to their forehead.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The two parted, reluctantly letting go of each other to head their separate ways. Mo walked quickly to the room the crew shared, slowly cracking open the door and sliding in, not wanting to let in excess light. Most of the crew had already fallen asleep, with a few still shifting slightly as they dozed off.

Mo crept across the room to their spot next to Frenchie to pick up their sleep clothes from where they had left them folded on top of their blankets. They rolled their eyes, unable to stop a small smile, when they saw Roach had flopped over onto their spot, his mouth open as he snored softly. They squinted, trying to see if he was laying on top of their clothes, dreading the idea of having to shift the cook. Right when they were ready to give up hope and attempt to roll over their friend, they saw that Frenchie was clutching their sleep clothes to his chest like a teddy bear, sleeping peacefully.

Mo crouched down, brushing a curly strand of hair out of Frenchie’s face. His nose twitched as he gave a light snore. Mo felt a pang, part of them wishing they could stay with Frenchie. As much as they were excited to spend the night with Izzy, it felt odd going two nights in a row without cuddling up to their best friend. They hoped he didn’t feel their absence the way they did. They didn’t want him to feel displaced from their life.

Mo sighed. They kissed their fingers, pressing it to Frenchie’s temple, before slowly moving to retrieve their sleep clothes. Thankfully, Frenchie had a loose grasp on the pants, but Mo quickly found they would have to uncross his arms to be able to take back their shirt. They decided to leave the shirt, not wanting to disturb Frenchie’s sleep or leave him with nothing of theirs in case he woke up during the night. Mo brushed their thumb along his eyebrow, finding comfort in his peaceful sleeping face, before slowly raising up to their feet. They carefully made their way back across the room and snuck out into the hallway, their sleep pants folded into a bundle tucked under their arm.

Mo walked back to Izzy’s cabin, trying their best to be quiet and quick. They knocked when they reached the door, not wanting to burst in and startle Izzy if he had beat them there. When there was no response they opened the door, stepping inside quickly before closing the door behind them. They moved to Izzy’s desk to find the materials to light his lantern. Finding what they needed, they quickly lit the wick, taking a moment to let their eyes adjust to the new light source.

Once they could see properly, Mo began to get undressed. They started with their accessories, taking off their belt that held the sheath to their dagger, setting it on one of Izzy’s chairs, along with their dark green vest, which they folded neatly. They were sitting on the bed, unlacing their boots, when Izzy opened the door. He came in quickly, closing the door behind him.

“Sorry,” he said, once he was inside. “I should have knocked. I didn’t realize that you could be changing.”

Mo smiled. “No worries, love.” They slipped off their boots, tucking them under the chair holding their weapons, before crossing the room to Izzy. They wrapped their arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, smiling against his lips as he wrapped his arms around their waist. He chuckled when they broke apart.

“What was that for?” he asked, grinning.

Mo shrugged. “For being you.” They began to release him, letting their hands slide off his neck and down to his chest. Izzy grabbed one of their hands, pressing a kiss to the back of it before letting it go.

Mo took a few steps back and returned to their task of undressing, beginning to undo the laces of their pants.

“W-what are you doing?” Izzy stammered, blushing furiously and averting his eyes, bringing his hand up to shade his eyes for good measure.

Mo laughed, pausing their work. “I’m just getting changed into my sleep pants, Iz. Nothing more.” Izzy didn’t move his hand, still not looking. “Babe, you don’t have to do that, you know.” Mo walked over to him, slowly pulling down his hand to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m not getting naked or anything, just changing my pants. It’s not a big deal. If you’re uncomfortable, just let me know, and I can go change somewhere else.”

Izzy frowned, shaking his head. “No,” he finally said. “That’s not necessary. Do whatever you need to.” “Are you sure you’re okay?” Mo asked gently. “It’s really not a big deal if you’re not.”

“No, no, I’m alright.” Izzy gave a small smile, face still pink. “Go on, I’ll get undressed too.”

Mo smiled softly as Izzy removed the belt slung across his chest, setting it on the desk like he had the night before. They began working on the drawstrings of their pants again, thinking about how nice it was to be so casual with Izzy, both of them getting ready for bed together. It felt domestic, like something they could get used to one day.

Mo began to slip off their trousers, smirking slightly when Izzy casually glanced over. They could tell that he was being careful not to look too long, not wanting to be caught staring. They grabbed their sleep pants and stepped into them, pulling them up and tying them securely. They picked up their discarded pants, taking a small drawstring bag out of one of the pockets before folding the pants and setting them with the rest of their clothes. Finally, they slipped off their rings, pressing a kiss to their most important one, before putting them in the drawstring bag and tightening it, setting it on the table.

Having finished getting ready for bed, Mo turned their attention to Izzy. He’d removed his vest and the ties at the elbows of his shirt, along with his singular glove and the belt that held his sword, but the rest of his outfit remained. Mo loosened his tie, giving him a kiss as they did. They lifted the tie over his head, setting it down on his desk, before starting to work on the buttons of his shirt.

“This is nice,” Izzy said, letting them take over the task.

Mo smiled, not looking up. “What is?” Izzy rubbed his hands up their back.

“This. Us.”

Mo smile widened. “Can’t say I disagree.” They undid the last button of his shirt, snaking their arms into it to wrap around his back and pressing a kiss to his exposed shoulder. They nuzzled their face into his neck, enjoying the skin to skin contact and the way Izzy let out a little sigh.

“I wish we could be like this every night,” Mo whispered. Izzy hummed, rubbing their back. “Even if I was invited back though, the crew would definitely realize that something’s going on if I were gone for a third night in a row. Even Pete might be able to start piecing things together, and he’s not the best when it comes to reading people.” They sighed, pulling Izzy closer. “It’s probably best for this to be our last night together, at least for a while.”

Izzy grunted, moving a hand to stroke Mo’s hair. “I’d be lying if I said I won’t miss you, but I agree that we shouldn’t push our luck.”

Mo turned their head to look up at him, propping their chin on his chest, enjoying the feeling of Izzy’s fingers in their hair. “Should we go to bed then?” they asked. “There shouldn’t be any more unexpected visits from my friends,” they added with a soft laugh.

Izzy scoffed lightly before a smile took over his face. “I should hope not. Your lot are very involved.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” “It is when they come knocking in the middle of the night, disturbing us.” Mo bit back a smile. “To be fair to Frenchie, he thought I was holed away somewhere, hiding from the big bad First Mate Hands.” They toyed with the button at the collar of the shirt he still wore. “He had no way to know we’d made up.” Izzy frowned. “Did he really think I would hurt you?” Mo didn’t know how to answer. “Not physically, probably, not for me, but he definitely thought you could hurt me emotionally.” Izzy’s frown deepened. “You do have a bit of a reputation for being overly hard on the crew,” they continued, choosing their words carefully. “I get that they’re not up to your standards, or most people’s standards, and you think being hard on them will force them to behave, to follow your orders.” Mo sighed. “They’re just not like that though, love. You’re just alienating yourself more, giving them less and less trust in you.” Izzy stiffened slightly, and Mo wondered if they had pushed too far.

“What I mean is, you just haven’t given them a chance to see your good side,” they continued, wanting to end on a good note. “They’d like you if you gave them a chance.”

“I doubt that will happen,” Izzy replied, voice bleak and eyes distant.

Mo lifted their head, looking at him properly. “What?” they asked. “You giving them a chance, or them liking you?”

Izzy shook his head. “Either. Both,” he replied shortly, wanting to drop the subject.

“Hey.” Mo reached out, grabbing his chin to force him to meet their eyes. “They’d love you.” Their gaze was fierce, daring him to argue with them. “They’d love how devoted you are, if they only realized it. How much you give of yourself to make this ship run smoothly. They’d love your humor if it wasn’t always turned against them, and that razor sharp wit of yours. They’d love to learn from you if they felt safe enough to ask.” Mo adjusted their grip, holding Izzy’s head with both hands. “They’d love you, darling. Let them in, or don’t, that’s your business, but don’t sell yourself short.”

Izzy’s eyes had hazed over slightly, and he gave a small sniffle. Mo released their grip on his head with a sigh, whispering “Come on,” to lead him to his bed. They sat down, patting the spot next to them for him to sit, cradling him against their chest when he did. They ran their fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp while he clung to them. They gave no reaction to his quiet whimpers, not wanting to embarrass the proud man. They pressed a slow kiss to the top of his head, moving their hand to rub up and down his back while the other held him close. Slowly, his breathing calmed and his whimpers faded.

“How are you doing?” Mo asked tentatively, voice barely above a whisper.

Izzy sighed, not sure how to answer. “I think I just need sleep,” he mumbled after a few moments of silence.

“Alright, darling. Let’s get this shirt off of you, and you can rest.” Mo carefully scootched away from the man, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with any sudden movements. They carefully pushed his linen shirt off his shoulders, folding it carefully as they stood up and crossed to the desk. They made their way back to the bed, pulling the covers over their partner as he slowly laid back to rest his head on his pillow, sitting next to him before leaning over to extinguish the flame of the lantern. They laid down fully, tucking themselves under the covers before wrapping their arms around Izzy, gently cradling him as though he could break if touched too roughly.

“Thank you.” The words were whispered, raspy as they came from Izzy, much more so than his usual voice. Mo pressed a kiss to his forehead, shushing him as he began to doze off.

[draconic-ichor]

A Letter Never Sent

Angst dabble

Warnings: strong language, mentions of death, character death, angst

Summary: Maddox returns home to make a sad discovery…

Feedback appreciated, 18+

Returning from one of his underground excursions, Maddox padded into the kitchens. Things were unusually quiet, the oddity taken as a blessing while he found some fresh food.

After eating dried travel rations and cave fungus for a month he dug in fervently, always missing food from home deeply.

He ate quickly, taking his plate to the sink before passing into the halls. He’d hardly got halfway down the corridor before he heard footsteps.

Matilda rounded the corner, stiffening and sniffing the air.

“It’s just me.” Maddox called out. Before he could react she was sprinting down the hall.

Matilda threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Maddox was taken back for a moment, his sister not usually one to touch him while he still was adorned in filthy clothes from the underground.

“Oh Maddox…” she spoke with a wavering voice, “We didn’t know how to reach you.”

“Reach me?” He gave her a worried look.

She pulled back, head tilting up, “It’s Petra-“

Matilda sucked in a breath, “She’s gone.”

“Gone?” He echoed.

Matilda nodded, repeating, “We didn’t know how to reach you, it happened so fast. I’m sorry.”

“W-what do you mean, gone?” He asked, mind not wanting to catch up with the truth.

Matilda was quiet for a long moment, wings dropping more, “Maddox…she died…”

The words shot through his chest, ripping bits out as they went. Disbelief…then guilt washed over him, all soaked in grief.

He pulled away from his sisters embrace, stumbling a bit to lean against the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m sorry.” Matilda teared up.

“How long?“ he asked, voice tight.

“What?”

“How long ago did she pass?” He elaborated, breaking a bit more with every word.

Matilda sighed, “Five days…we had to bury her. We didn’t know when you would be back…we didn’t know.”

He nodded, face pinched.

~

Later, Magnus and Maddox sat across from one another in the dinning hall. The rest of the grand room was empty, their words echoing around.

“First Boc three summers ago…now Petra…” Maddox’s voice was tight.

“Boc lived much longer than most demihumans.” Magnus pointed out, “A long life.”

“He was still family.” Maddox pointed out.

“…yes.” The other nodded sadly, “A-are you alright?” Magnus ventured after a pause.

“I feel…?”

“Conflicted?” Magnus asked, scratching a bit at the wood grain of the table.

“I suppose.” Maddox frowned, “I…loved her-“ he looked away, “Like a mother…”

Magnus picked up on the words unsaid: ‘But we have a mother’

“She did most of raising us.” Magnus pointed out, “Read us to sleep, kissed our scrapes…fed us…”

Maddox nodded, guilt clawing at his insides. “…they were busy.” He tried to explain.

“Yes, so don’t feel bad about being more attached to our nanny.” Magnus snapped.

“I love mother.” He argued.

Magnus bared his teeth a bit, “I never said you didn’t!”

Maddox withdrew a bit, eyes glassy. He racked his hand through his hair, “I didn’t even say goodbye..”

Magnus shut his mouth, biting away any more remarks. Before he had the chance to speak again, the Lady tarnished entered the hall. Her hands here folded, eyes solemn as she looked at her sons.

“Matilda told me you returned.” Their mother explained.

Maddox looked away, shame nipping at his features. Magnus pushed away from the table, retreating to give them a bit of privacy.

As soon as the door clicked shut the tarnished walked forward. “I’m so sorry.” She sighed, “Her passing was very sudden.”

“I know.”

“We buried her in the royal catacombs…she deserved that and so much more…” her voice was soft, sadness cracking it.

“Was she in pain?” He asked, guilt over spending so little time with Petra in recent years caving his chest in.

“No…she passed peacefully.” The Lady rounded the table to take Maddox’s hand. He looked down at the contact for a moment before interlacing his fingers with hers.

“Do you wish to talk?” She ventured gently.

“Not particularly…” he admitted.

“I understand.” She gave his hand a little squeeze before letting him go. He withdrew it, rubbing over his palm with his other hand.

“She left a letter, addressed to you.” The GodLord informed softly, holding out a sealed envelope.

Maddox took it silently, looking over the maroon dyed paper and golden seal.

“Take your time.” She whispered. He gave a little nod in response, ears folded back.

~

Later in the night, Maddox sat on his windowsill, tail flicking off into the cool night air. The sky was still, no breeze to ruffle his fur. He stared down at the envelope for a long while, head and chest feeling heavy.

Taking a breath, he carefully opened it with a clawed finger. The parchment within was yellowed, smelling of tea leaves. He pulled it free, setting the envelope back within the safety of his room.

Unfolding it, his eyes scanned over its words:

Dear Maddox,

I apologize for never telling you the contents of this letter in person….Speaking was always a struggle for me. But writing comes easy!

Iv written this letter to you so many times, something I always wanted you to know…

I lost a baby in childbirth, five days before I received the summons. Twas a boy, I had named him Pépin. It’s not uncommon for misbegotten to die before birth, our bodies twisted to begin with. But that fact doesn’t sooth a mourning mother.

The father was gone from my life long beforehand. The only family I knew of, my Mother, had given me up in childhood.

I was alone.

But then I met you…Your mother placed you in my arms, so small and hungry.

I looked at you, and you needed me: I had the choice to help you, a choice I never had with my own child.

For a long while I was ate up with thoughts of guilt. But I realized that caring for you wasn’t replacing my son, that giving you love didn’t sully his memory.

I could love you and his memory. There was no need to contest for space in my heart.

And love you I did, as my own. I love all three of you little ones more than I can put into words.

The King would say I saved you…yet I think you saved me just as much. I’m honored to of witnessed you grow into a man.

I could not be more proud of you, Maddox.

Thank you…

Love, Petra

The ink smudged a bit as a tear hit the paper, Maddox pulled it away, in an attempt to protect the delicate script.

He covered his face, breaking down.

[thewirewitch]

One of those days where I'm just kinda done with my family owning a dog. She makes me tired in an emotional way and I know she doesn't mean to, it's just kinda frustrating...

(rant under the cut. Tw for animal death)

I've had a fear of dogs since I was really young, probably around 4-5 years old, since I went to a relative's house and her dog (who was fully grown, but she said he was a "puppy") jumped up on me and scratched my face (my mom said I was also knocked over, but I don't remember the moment of impact, just him running at me and the aftermath). I used to love dogs before that.

Years later, when I was around 9, my mom decided to get a dog. A miniature shar-pei, to be specific. Neither she nor my dad did any research on them before they bought one (current dog, her name's Winks). They didn't know they are usually aggressive and protective.

I tried to get over my fear of dogs when we got her. At first I was scared, but later on I tried petting her multiple times, but she'd always nip at me.

Then as she got older, and the years went on, she would still try to bite me for certain things. If I handed something to a parent, or they handed something to me, she'd always try to bite my arm. So I stopped directly handing things to my parents, or receiving things from them unless I knew she couldn't get to me.

One ordinary day I had gone downstairs and she went over to me and bit my foot. I locked myself in the bathroom, which was right next to the stairs. She had drawn some blood. I stayed in there for a while.

Another time, it was late at night and my mom was on the couch. I went over to sit beside her, but Winks jumped up on the couch before I could sit down and she bit my thigh. It hurt and bled for several days after that. Not a lot of blood, though. She also used to get kind of alert when I'd go over to my parents before that. I don't stand very close to them when they're seated anymore, even if they want to show me something on a computer.

A few years ago Winks began to follow me really close and growl/squeak if I went upstairs later in the day. I found out she wouldn't do that much if I was carrying something (like a large cup of water, a plate/bowl of food, laundry basket, etc.) so whenever I go downstairs, I always bring something up with me.

More recently I had started to wear shorts. One night when I was going to head upstairs, Winks silently went over to me, even when I wasn't close to either parents, and bit my ankle. Thankfully she didn't bite very hard, but my mom yelled at her when she did, so, she might have bit harder if my mom didn't notice. I don't wear shorts after 6pm downstairs anymore. I always put on a pair of long pants if I "need" too.

Despite all this, despite her singling me out to be super vigilant about, she also paces around downstairs some nights and squeaks because she wants me to go downstairs. Despite the fact my brother had gone on multiple day-long trips away from home, the one time I went on a 4-day school trip to DC she didn't eat anything, and now usually only eats at night when I'm around (which is why she squeaks). I don't get it. If I leave to go with a friend, she squeaks like she would if one of my parents left, but she doesn't react at all if my brother leaves the house.

What got me to type all this is because today she ended up finding a nest of baby bunnies under our back porch. Even though my dad put a fence up around the gaps under the porch, she still went under there and ate as many of them as she could. And it upsets me.

But I can't be mad at her for it. Because that's just her nature. I can't be mad at her about anything she did to me or to anyone or anything else because that's just what her nature is. I haven't even brought up a lot of the stuff she's done that has made me feel some negative way, just the major ones I remember right now.

But I am mad. I'm not mad at her. I'm mad at my parents.

I could say it was my fault she got those bunnies because I didn't put the bamboo stake in the right place when I looked at the fence. I could say it's my dad's fault for not putting the fence up in an effective way to begin with. I could say it's Winks's fault, but it's just her nature.

Or I could say...it's both my parents' fault for even getting a dog to begin with. Their kid, their little girl, me, who was, and still is, terrified of dogs, pleading with them not to get one. I told them not to do it. They knew I was scared of dogs. But they didn't listen. And neither of them did research on shar-pei temperament. And now look what we're strapped with.

I used to wear shoes all the time since I didn't want Winks to hurt my feet in some way. I don't hug my parents as much as I used to because I'm scared Winks will come after me if I did. My family can't go on day-long trips because Winks stresses out when we're not home. We once came home to our front doorframe all chewed-up on one side. We can't visit family members without bringing her with us. She's chewed up the doorframe of one of my uncles' guest room door because she was left in there alone. My uncles don't want us bringing her over because she's not socialized. So we don't visit out extended family much anymore unless one of us stays behind (usually me and my brother). One of our neighbors has to make sure their kids don't get close to our fence or else Winks would bark at them and scare them. My mom had to put a tarp around our fence so Winks can't bite any hands that may slip between the boards. My parents and brother have had to throw multiple dead animals out of our backyard because Winks would hunt them. My dad once had to beat a small racoon with a wooden board because Winks had picked a fight with it. We can't leave our trashcans on the floor or leave me and my brother's bathroom door open without something in front of it because she's eat out of the trashcans and she'd lick things in the bathroom she really shouldn't. I've had an argument with my brother over this.

I'm just tired, man. And I know whenever Winks passes, I'll be sad. Despite EVEREYTHING, I'm going to be sad. Whether it be because my parents will be sad, or guilt that I didn't try harder to bond with her, I know I'm going to cry. There have been a few times where I thought she was dead and it made me feel dread. Despite it all I still have some semblance of care for her. So even when she does pass, there won't be a sense of relief. I won't be able to go "it's over" and just move on.

I still talk to her. I still give her ice cubes and let her outside if she wants to go out. I still care about her, and sometimes I wish I didn't, and sometimes I wish I cared more.

And all this just makes me feel emotionally exhausted.

If I could go back in time at points throughout my life and change things, one of the things I would do is make sure my parents didn't get her. I'd tell them all the trouble we'd go through, and that they should get any other kind of dog than a shar-pei. Tell my mom that the cuteness isn't worth it, and to find another kind of dog she thinks is cute, and that's actually sociable. Maybe we could have gone on more trips. Maybe our family could be a little closer. Maybe my anxiety towards animals wouldn't be so bad.

But that's not what happened. And now my parents learned from their mistake, and brought the rest of us with them.

[uhlavender]

hey! yeah i went to vegas with a few friends. im not usually the one to have a schedule and plan each activity at each interval of time. with my usual friends we just go with the flow and have some vague idea of what to do and just do stuff spontaneously. but with this friend group i went with, we literally had a doc of what we're gonna do on each day and hour, so it was an interesting, different experience for me. it was definitely an efficient use of time, but i think i still prefer just chilling and just enjoying what life brings to the table. i think people see it as a waste of time or money not knowing what you're gonna do, but hey i see it as just relaxing, meditative, and just enjoying the present moment. kind of like fishing in a peaceful lake and waiting till something bites. it's interesting seeing which people prefer. i dont mind either approach! but i do think the efficient route can get tiring lol. how about you? when you're traveling for time-off, do you plan a schedule, or just wing it?

when i went to vegas i saw a couple of cirque du soleil shows and david blaine live. ok rant incoming: but man cirque du soleil is so inspring and just a spectacle of culture and life. it's a combination of art, love, and perseverance. all the artistic merging of stage lighting, design, music, peformance/stunts, costumes, choreography/dance is amazing and its insane it's all done live including the music. and david blaine was incredible too. i cannot believe how hard he works and that he's doing what he's doing at every show. i literally think he's like at the edge of dying if he keeps performing his act at his cadence lol. out of every show show i've seen live in my life, i think david blaine's is the most insane when it comes to live performance, preparation, and commitment from a single human. that dude give it his 200% lol. he's basically displaying highlights of his life's works in a single show, and so many things can just go wrong.

home is just my bedroom honestly. im not afraid to admit im a homebody especially after growing as an adult, i've just been accustomed to enjoying isolation and time alone. not that i dont like to go out, it's fun socializing time to time and going to events, but yeah i prefer working on projects and doing 'nothing' aka just being present / relaxing / simmering in my own thoughts/ideas. besides, not to be paranoid, but i think there's a higher chance of dying going out, especially these days. and i don't know about you, but id like to experience the world as long as i can lol. i already feel like im living in the future with how much society and technology progressed, so imagine what the future-future would be like. but yeah, some day i want my own studio or something. i can call that my home.

im learning korean because i studied there briefly and recently for a moment i wanted to learn a language again. i just think being stuck in your own culture is just living in a bubble. especially in the u.s., i just feel like were so ignorant of the outside world lol. not to simplify our society, but sometimes i just feel like all we do is complain or become a pessimistic hivemind that just judges shit all the time. maybe other places do the same, but it gets tiring and numbing with the internet/news flashing upsetting stuff. knowing a different language is a superpower really, you get a different perspective of the world, and immersing in another culture besides your own brings new ideas and perspectives in life. since i already knew about korean history, culture, and scratched the surface of the language, i wanted to dive deep again. korea already resonates with me because of its history as being an isolated hermit kingdom and i think the country is interesting because of its westernization after the war and how they adopted our ideas and made it their own. I think kpop fans kind of overshadow how interesting korea is, but yeah korea has cool ideas and artists. check out do ho suh, he does interesting stuff with fabric and conceptualizes stuff about home, space/environments, and identity. you might find it interesting. and i still cannot believe kim jung gi passed away, im still devastated. i feel like every artist who wanted to draw well aspired to be like him at some point in their life

i think i am proud of myself. and yeah your right, comparison fucking sucks, and you're only comparing your behind-the-scenes with others highlight reels lol. i think living in the information age is a blessing and a curse. you get to be inspired and see the greatest artists all around the world instantly at any moment, but it can also suck the life outta you - your comparing your 5 mile progress to people who've made it 1000 miles already in their journey, content becomes so saturated that it's harder to come up or find original new ideas, and its more difficult to satisfy your hunger when your fed so much content. it's just not healthy consuming so much all the time. i feel like once you're past the point of inspiration and now you're just depressed cuz u fucking suck, it's probably a sign you should be producing and not consuming anymore haha. it must've been so interesting how information and content was harder to find back in the day: life was more of a mystery not knowing stuff and how we didn't know each others lives every second. maybe ignorance was bliss.

do you take meds for your adhd?

yeah i understand that you can reinvent yourself. but i also think if you pivot too much, youll never grow as an artist. i think you just have to balance it out or keep yourself in moderation. for me, i see it as you can slowly pivot, but it's important to play your strengths and experiment on ideas that still remain parallel with your craft. theres this video about an artist struggling, and was inspired by another artist. the successful artist told him to just draw the same thing everyday. then the struggling artist learned a lot and figured out you can come up with more ideas and innovate when your restricted. he also learned that you just need to take action. pondering and consuming is not equivalent to progress/production. i think it goes back to the saying "I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times". In terms of art/expression, i see it as you won't experience the depths of a skill/craft or its community if you don't put in its mileage. imagine knowing 20 languages at a beginner level, vs 1 language at its utmost fluency. the experience, depth, complexity, expression is totally different. you can have advanced conversations, tell jokes, say phrases/idioms, create never existing sentences, it's just a whole different experience and connection with the world once you reach a deep vocabulary, grammar structure, and listening skill. i want that same conversation with art. i want that same ability, "speaking" skill with art. i want to have that same "listening" skill in art. i want to form complex sentences in art, not just words, and also "listen" to other peoples art if that makes sense. compare your speaking and language skill with your 12 year old self to yourself now. the way you can speak, express, and listen to others is at whole different level now then when you were 12 years old. i kinda see the same in reaching the depths in an art form. i know nothing about cooking honestly, but i can imagine once you reach it at a very high level, you completely see food and cooking in a different lens and have a deep appreciation, connection, and understanding of cooking and its complexity / "language".

i think if i did persevere, i can actually make something cool and finish a project for once. i want to put something out in the world and make a connection through art and ideas with people. and if i maintained my persistence, my work will progress and form a story, like a tree or song. i find that my coolest works were stuff that i was forced to do, e.g. given a deadline, or i was so passionate about something with a goal in mind and a set date. when there's no motivator, i feel like my mind wanders too much and i leave projects in the dust. it actually feels cool coming back to unfinished projects with a fresh perspective and also being like "hey i forgot i made this", but i feel like it's even cooler when you finish it on the spot and keep it as a historical frame or a special moment in time that was captured in your life. id rather keep the photo than the unshot film, if that makes sense lol.

yeah i find success kind of scary, but also i wonder what it would be like if i did go for it. will i go crazier? i can imagine liking the attention and really appreciating finally being recognized and making people happy or feel something. i can also imagine being emotional that people reflect or feel a connection to what i want to express. but i can also imagine hating it. i dont equate success to being famous, but if i do gather attention from success, i wouldn't like it. i really value privacy lol. and i don't want to deal with questions or criticism. i also dont want people to influence my work or feel the pressure to do something to satisfy fans or maintain relevance or a presence in the community. i just want to do it for myself, on my own terms.

ahh thats great you can sympathize about finding your specialty. and its awesome you have so many interests, all of em sound so exciting haha. i remember i wanted to make clothing at one point. that reminds me of another point though, you also don't have to do it all alone. the greatest artists out there work as a team. so if you have a vision, you don't have to work alone. we are human after all, and some of the most beautiful things we've made are made by a community or team effort. just a friendly reminder that you don't have to pick up these skills by yourself, you can work with others! but hey, if youre doing it out of interest or fun, i dont think it hurts either. films, books, music, clothes, statues, games, actually probably everything in existence is a combination of our efforts working together and collecting, sharing, and maintaining ideas and inventions throughout history. a bit off topic, but also i hate it when people think we take shortcuts or cheat when it comes to making something, like wtf we humans made these tools, so use it lol. its funny how new stuff is considered cheating, then we later adopted it as the norm. like autotune, photoshop, even old stuff like dribbling in basketball or using a calculator. makes u wonder about the future of a.i.

i guess what i just wrote about teamwork is relevant to your next point haha. yeah u can totally be a director. i honestly think part of being successful as an artist (or even just in general) is through connections and just putting yourself out there and being involved in the community. if your interested in all these skills and participate in each community, i can imagine being successful since your casting a big net to meet a lot of different artists with different ideas/perspectives. you can probably meet a lot of people from different backgrounds and form a network.

haha i think at one point when i was super young my doctor asked if i wanted adderall lol. i was definitely super imaginative, stupid/oblivious, and hyper when i was a kid, so i may have adhd, but i dont think so anymore. i was diagnosed with depression when i was a teen and may or may not been bipolar, but was never officially diagnosed during the time. i tried a lot of different meds then tapered off somewhere in college. then i had so many different episodes here and there. i had more existential/identity crisis, and probably a two or three ago, i finally was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and it explains so fucking much about everything i have done in life lol. it probably also explains why im so hesitant about picking up new hobbies/interests because i feel like im entering a manic episode, which is why i get scared if im too passionate about something.

but i made it pretty far. honestly i was going through all my old stuff and recently i was looking at all my old sketchbooks and i was experiencing revelations about myself. its cool that i have all these sketchbooks dating back to like early highschool, and i really captured not only my progress as an artist, but a lot of memories and points in my life and ideas i had. it was surreal and inspiring. i remember the environment/place i was in and the headspace i was at when i looked at a lot of the drawings/paintings. the early days were so innocent, then i could clearly see points where i was spiraling into depression and times where i was manic lol. i would make extensive lists and absolutely fill the page to the brim. and when i was depressed, the pages were isolated or i would take a half a year or more without creating anything. i see the same story with the songs i made.

i think the most i was fucking emotional are these two sketchbooks that were rubberbanded together and had pages that were taped shut. i had no idea what they were, and when i unfastened it, it wasnt a sketchbook but a journal. i dont remember this at all, and i pretty much documented the lowest point in my life lol. it was surreal and pretty much contrasted where i'm at now. i dont remember any of the days i documented. i dont even remember some of the names i mentioned or why i was upset. i felt like a different person wrote this. there was even a letter i wrote that i was supposed to give to someone but never did. the second sketchbook was also a journal, but had pages taped shut. i was scared but also super curious why i taped them shut. i thought it was gonna be like something awful like a suicide letter or something - it was labeled "for everyone or no one", but when i cut it open i was really surprised and super emotional. it was the complete opposite, it was actually a bunch of messages from all my classmates that wrote in my sketchbook to say their goodbyes before we graduated. i absolutely forgot about this, and it was surreal how positive the messages were, especially comparing myself where i am now. a lot of people said i was funny, artistic/creative, unique, and glad i was in their life. some people even wrote they knew ill be successful or stuff like that. i forgot about these people in my life. after that though, the later pages funnily contrasted the messages. i was still journaling my depression, but in a more formal manner, it felt kinda edgy lol, but i guess i was more in a super aware depression and not a completely lost, ignorant depression. it slowly became less depressing as the pages go on, then later became a sketchbook again.

i remember reading that when u have depression or some form of mental illness, you get memory loss, and it explains a lot. there's lots of huge gaps in my memory of highschool and college. those days are completely lost to me. i dont remember anything unless i documented it through a journal, drawing, or song. i feel like im a detective discovering a story by following a trail, but that story is about me. pretty surreal, i feel like a completely different person now.

anyway i think i ranted too long. sorry if this is super fucking long, i feel like a crazy person, but i guess im just flowing with a lot of thoughts and ideas. i may or may not be in a different state of mind right now lol, so i apologize if im sharing too much or talking my mouth off. let me know if you like or don't like these type of messages, and ill moderate my mouth depending on your response haha.

thanks for listening if you actually read every word i wrote this late at night. i feel like i wrote a fucking essay or thesis lmao. it's kind of fun thinking i'm writing all this and it will be stored and archived in the depths of the internet. it's like a journal or snippet of someone's life and someone, including myself, can read this in the future (if tumblr still exists).

Hey!

Sorry about my late reply. I saw this huge block of text and got overwhelmed.

When it comes to traveling a like a mix of both structure and spontaneity. It's nice to have a rough guideline for what you want to do for sure and then fill in the blanks as you go. I recently went to MXCD with some friends and that's what we did! I love it. One of my best vacations ever.

And wow that's cool! I don't really know who David Blaine is but I'm glad youve enjoyed both of these shows.

I think it's great to embrace your lonesome! And you're right, there are more dangers outside and it would be nice to see what life in the future is like. But I hope even though you like to stay inside that you are not doing it out of fear. For me, I'd rather die young and experience the world as much as I can than the other way around.

As for language, I totally agree that languages are a superpower. You know about 30% of Americans have a working passport? Of those people, even fewer have left the country. Korean is an interesting choice. I think it's great that you find it interesting though. I think after Chinese I want to learn Spanish.

I think living in the age of the internet is for sure a blessing and a curse but I think overall it's a blessing. Yes tech companies design with the intent of addiction, but at least the power to disconnect is still technically there. I'd much rather be able to connect, learn from others, and see how expansive and vast everyone is than to stay within an echo chamber I have no choice but to stay in. I think the difference is just choice. You know what I mean?

Yes I take welbutrin for adhd but I'm going to switch to stratera and see how that goes. Adderall makes me too anxious.

I understand what you mean about being kinda good at many things vs being really good at one thing. I think both have merit. In capitalism, the latter is prioritized, but it's really the interdisciplinary people who understand all the moving parts who can see the bigger picture.I don't know if I've mentioned this, but there's the phrase, “a jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one.” I think it's sharpening one skill is overrated in my opinion. I've been to many countries and have stayed in a couple of homestays too (thailand and india) and something I am reminded everywhere I go is that communication is often times beyond language.

I think it's totally fair to create for yourself. No need to monetize it.

Yea there is a lot to say about ai's impact on art but I don't think technology is anything to be afraid of. It's the people programming and using it.

I am super grateful to be an artist in NYC, cuz all of my friends are also artists. It makes my life so beautiful and inspiring. I adore my friends, huge fans of them.

I think passion is beautiful! Feels like it's just concentrated love mixed with energy. It's a life force. But I hope you don't let your bipolar stop you. You can learn to work with it, not against it. Do you see a therapist?

It's so cool that you still have all that artwork! I feel like that's my tumblr lol. Maybe you can make new artwork with it. It's like you are addressing your child self, letting them meet you.

Aw I love that story about your sketchbook! I always forget and deflect every nice thing someone says about me so I think it's very special to have them written down. Proof you're loved.

I also don't really remember a lot of my childhood. I wish I could journal now the way I used to, but I've never been actually consistent outside of the time I went to india and didn't have a phone or internet. I feel bad and upset at myself for not hacing the discipline to journal more, but I gotta be gentle with myself. ADHD seeps into every facet of my life and my life makes me feel like I can never write enough about it so why bother. (I know why to bother but it's still hard)

Lol yea this was a lot to get through but I'm glad you feel comfortable sharing this w me. How's summer going for you? It's been good for me, but cancer season has been emotional. I almost broke up with someone I really like last night but they begged for another chance even though I just don't think we are in similar places in life or even have comparable experiences with love and dating. I do really like him though, and I'm also not the type to give up without a second chance so we will see what happens. Tonight I had a date w another person I've been seeing for months and I feel like tonight reaffirmed we are probably better as friends. There is a standard I have for the way my romantic partners treat me and this just isn't it. (I'm polyamorous btw lol)

My longtime partner Myka and I have been good though. They really are my best friend.

I feel like I wrote too much for be to proofread rn at 3:30am so I'm just gonna hope it makes sense. These are huge ass blocks of text

[anisette-blackwirth]

SAGAU: Happy Birthday, Tartaglia

summary: Childe decides to spoil you and Zhongli on his birthday. You try to thank him but he's resistant to your offers, preferring to focus on you instead.

content warning: Smut alert! This is smut. It's a threesome. Granted, Zhongli is in the background bc I wanted to focus on Childe, but still. Reader is not gendered. Reader is also broke IRL bc huge mood.

notes: Happy birthday to my first 5-star, my first main, and the man who hit 63k randomly the other day for no good reason whatsoever. I see you out there, my guy. We'll do Spiral Abyss for fun later this evening, I promise.

3k+ words, under the cut.

It always struck you as odd that characters would send the Traveler letters and gifts on their birthday, but Childe manages to explain it as he invites you and Zhongli to go to dinner with him on the evening of the 20th. 

“You and Aether have done so much to help us the last two years. Making the two of you happy makes our day better too, you know!” 

“But don’t you want to be spoiled on your birthday?” you ask. 

“I’ll be spending time with my two favorite people in the world, doesn’t that count?” Childe answers with an easy, open grin at both you and Zhongli, and you're distracted from any further questions

The three of you end up, unsurprisingly, at Liuli Pavillion. Childe sheepishly scratches the back of his head as he takes his seat to your left. 

“Sorry, xiansheng. I know we always end up here, but when I had a look at the Xinyue Kiosk’s menu most of their specialties were seafood. I figured you’d prefer the same stuff as usual.”

“Indeed,” Zhongli says as he takes the chair at the head of the table - you bite back a smile as you realize the three of you are mirroring the same layout from his introductory cutscene, with you in the Traveler’s spot. “Considerate as always, Childe. I doubt I could ever grow tired of the cuisine here, but if you are truly worried then I will try to pick something new.” 

“Idunno, I think we’ve pretty much eaten everything in here,” Childe mutters as he waves for a menu from a waiter. He glances over it, front and back, before handing it to you and leaning back. He slings one arm over the back of your chair so you can feel the warmth from his arm hovering behind your shoulders. 

“Let me know if anything catches your eye. Otherwise we’ll just order the usual and we can all share,” he says. Zhongli nods approvingly as he accepts the cup of tea the waiter has just poured.  

The menu has no prices on it, which you kind of expected but are still amused to see as you look through. You’re well aware that this place is ridiculously expensive. It’d probably warrant a Michelin star or two in real life, and you’re eager to try a level of luxury you’d probably never have a shot at under normal circumstances. Not when your “fancy” dinners consist of Applebees or Olive Garden…

“Well I always want to try Tianshu meat whenever I see it in the cooking menu…” you say with a laugh as you finally locate it. 

“Anything else?” Childe asks, and your mind immediately scatters. Because yes, there are other things you desperately want to try - like the entire menu - but the thought of getting more than one entree for yourself is hard to get past for a moment. You pretend to look over the menu a bit more as you remind yourself firmly that this is Fatui money, that it’s fine to ask for things, and that Childe and Zhongli are probably going to order half the menu anyway, so…. 

“The pork hotpot? I don’t mind spice,” you say as you note the description lists some spiciness. Huh. Was that in the game description? Clearly you hadn’t paid that much attention. 

“An excellent choice,” Zhongli says before turning to give the waiter his own order. You listen in growing amusement and horror as the two of them do indeed order a veritable mountain of food, and you wonder briefly if it will be possible to get any leftovers to bring home and stick in your fridge. You’d probably be able to feed yourself all week off them, though it would undoubtedly be an insult to the food quality to stick it in a microwave later….

You and Childe take turns prodding Zhongli for trivia about the Li and Yue cuisine styles as you wait, both of you catching each other in dreamy looks as he goes on about the development of each style in length and each poking the other to break the spell. It’s silly camaraderie that Zhongli shakes his head at more than once, and you think to yourself that even if the food is horrible... tonight will already have been memorable. 

The food is not horrible. The food, when it arrives, is a vision in beauty to both your eyes and nose, and you can barely spare the attention to watch Childe struggle with his chopsticks as you pick up your own and bring a bite of Tianshu meat to your mouth. 

It’s like nothing you’ve ever tasted before, truly. The meat is soft and almost smooth, barely requiring you to chew, and tastes both salty and sweet with hints of onions and ginger. You take another bite to try and distinguish more flavors, and then another and another until you realize you’ve almost devoured your entire dish. 

"Good?" Childe asks. He's not even trying to eat his dish anymore, just smiling at you with his cheek propped in his hand. His lightless eyes hold such open, honest affection it makes your heart ache. You only ever see him look this alive when he's in combat or with the ones he loves, and the reminder that he feels that way about you is…. 

"It's unbelievable," you whisper, and he laughs. 

"Your eyes are sparkling," he teases, "it must be."

"Childe, do get your elbows off the table," Zhongli chides, calm. As Childe obeys and returns to arguing with his utensils, you subtly wipe your eyes. Your thumb comes away wet. 

----------------------

You beg shamelessly and do manage to get some leftovers, which Childe promises he'll keep in his cold-box until you're ready to leave. You're quiet during the walk back, content to lag behind and let Childe and Zhongli fill the silence with idle chatter about their weeks as you simply process the amazing meal you just had. The tastes linger pleasantly in your memory the same way the soft summer breeze lingers on your skin. ….and clearly your brain is still a little frazzled. You can hardly believe you're going to go back to eating ramen and frozen dinners after this…. 

As the three of you reach Childe's building and climb the stairs to his third-floor apartments, Zhongli falls back to whisper in your ear.

"Would you be opposed to a collaboration tonight?" 

"Collaboration?" you whisper back.

His mouth quirks up in a devious smile. "I hoped to show our dear Ajax what he means to both of us." You are immediately onboard. It's in-line with what you had wanted to do to thank him for tonight.

"Whatever you two are whispering about back there, you know the walls have ears, right?" Childe calls back in good humor as he unlocks his door and holds it open for you.

Zhongli passes through first, still smiling. "I am aware of that particular Liyue idiom, yes."

You follow and hug Childe from behind as he puts the leftovers away, shoving your face into his back. He chuckles and turns sideways to sling his left arm around your shoulders as he shifts things around to make room with his other hand. "What's up, sweetheart?"

"Just want to remind you it's your birthday," you say. You stand tiptoe to press a kiss against his cheek, and then one on his cheekbone, one at the corner of his jaw- and that's as far as you get before he's closing the cold-box door and leaning back against it. His arms circle your waist, dragging you to lean against him. 

"Mmhmm, it is my birthday." He smirks at you. "I think I deserve a kiss. Don't you, xiansheng?" 

"You know my answer to that, Ajax."

You jump in Childe's arms as Zhongli's voice comes from right behind you, making the Harbinger laugh. The ex-Archon's gloved hand glides up your right arm and shoulder. You shiver and forget to breathe as the leather brushes over and around your neck before he grabs your jaw and gently urges you to tilt your head up further. It's the perfect angle for Childe to lean down and kiss you. 

Childe's kiss tastes of the ginger tea you had all finished dinner with. He moves his mouth slowly but hungrily over yours as his own gloved hands slip under your shirt and spread over your waist in a possessive grip. Zhongli's first hand holds steady on your jaw, and he brings his second one up to press his entire palm against your upper back. You whine and grip the fabric of Childe's jacket as you try to balance being sandwiched between the two, but you're quickly losing focus. Fuck, why are they both so hot? Why??

Childe breaks off the kiss with a groan and then leans up past you to kiss Zhongli above your head. You whine again because now you're really sandwiched, but you wiggle around and free yourself to sink to your knees and bite at the fabric over Childe's thighs.

"Mm- fuck, Y/N, you-" Childe is interrupted again as Zhongli presses him back, clearly intent on overwhelming his lover. 

You drag your mouth up, biting gently at his thighs through the fabric until you reach the bulge of his cock. You open your mouth wide and breathe hot air over it, mouthing around the outline with your lips. His hips press forward on instinct, and one of his hands lands on your right shoulder. 

"Zhongli, fuck, hang on a minu- ahhhh" 

Zhongli chuckles above you, deep and resonant. You glance up to see that he's finally relinquished his claim on Childe's mouth and is now pressing kisses down his neck, stripping his jacket and shirt. 

"Aww~" you tease before licking near where the head of his cock seems to be, making sure to get the fabric nice and wet. Childe's head rolls down to look at you, mouth open on a gasp. "Relax, love. Let us thank you."

"Th-that's - hah. You don't haaa~ve to."

You undo his belt buckle and Zhongli's hand reaches down to help you thread his Vision/Delusion combo off. You hear a clink of metal on marble as it's put to the side on the counter somewhere. 

You ignore the rest as you undo the clasp and slide his pants and underwear down together. "But I want to," you say, playing up the sweetness in your voice. You stick your tongue out. "You spent so much on me tonight, this is the least I can do~"

You're just trying to tease Childe. You know he loves it when you praise him and rely on him for things, so you really aren't expecting the hand on your shoulder to stop you from leaning forward and swallowing his cock down. 

You look up, mouth still open and tongue hanging out. "Uh?"

He pushes Zhongli back too - or maybe Zhongli pulls back on his own, because he pulls off his coat and goes to hang it up. 

Childe holds your gaze as you look back at him. "You don't have to thank me for that, Y/N. You- you know that, right?" 

You sit back on your heels, perplexed. "Sure, but I want to?" 

"No, you - I mean, you don't have to give me a blowjob just because you - you don't owe me for that." 

You tilt your head. "Right. I know I don't owe you anything. ….but I want to thank you anyway?"

"I have to agree with Ajax," Zhongli says as he returns. You're momentarily distracted by him unbuttoning his shirt. "There's no need to reciprocate monetary gifts with sexual favors." 

You're very confused now. You know logically you don't owe Childe anything for dinner, because… well, you can't pay him back for it anyway. You have no idea how much it cost. But he still gave you an amazing, unique (to you) experience on his birthday out of a desire to see you smile, because for some reason seeing you smile counts as a birthday present to him. You're unbearably grateful for that, and you want to show him.

…..you also just really like the desperate noises he makes whenever you go down on him. Is that not enough?

Apparently you've taken too long thinking about it because strong arms wrap around your back and under your legs as Zhongli lifts you and moves you to the bedroom. Childe follows, stripping the rest of the way. Zhongli climbs up on the bed and sits against the headrest, cradling you back-to-front in his lap. 

"Spread?" Childe says as he climbs on the bed in front of you two, and Zhongli slides his ankles under your own. 

"Pardon me," he states politely as he bends his knees and spreads his legs wide, just as asked. With your legs hooked over his, you're effectively trapped on display for both of them.

Your hands shoot down to balance yourself, but Zhongli grabs your wrists and pulls them back. He holds both immovable in the air on either side of your head, placing a soft kiss on the back of your knuckles. 

Childe drags his nails up your thighs, chuckling as you squirm and pant. You don't want to struggle against Zhongli's grip, but you're already sensitive from the embarrassment of being exposed like this… 

"I'm not letting you thank me for tonight, Y/N. This is all selfish," Childe mutters against your lips - when did he get so close??

"I -I know that!" you protest. 

"Oh? Do you?" Childe breathes against the skin of your neck - then laughs when you whine. Which causes you to whine again, because his voice has dropped an octave, making him sound closer to Tartaglia than Ajax- "Then I'm sure you won't be surprised if I indulge for a while."

And then he leans right down and gets to work on making you cum with his tongue. 

The first orgasm is fast, because you really didn't stand a chance when Tartaglia is lapping at you with single-minded focus and Zhongli is murmuring praises directly in your ears, the deep vibrations tickling your back and making you feel both seen and safe. The second orgasm takes time and you feel almost delirious with pleasure by the time you reach your peak. You shake and gasp through Zhongli's teeth on your neck and Tartaglia's tongue curling around you, but it's the self-assured look in his ocean-deep eyes that ultimately sends you over the edge. 

Confidence looks so fucking good on him and he knows it. 

You melt back into Zhongli's chest as Tartaglia finally offers you a break to wipe his mouth. The consultant's cock is rock-hard, pressed against the small of your back. You would be surprised he hadn't cum at your squirming around in his lap for the past half hour, but you both know by now that his restraint is some adepti-level bullshit.

If he so chooses, anyway. Because as Tartaglia licks the edges of his mouth to clean them, Zhongli grinds his cock up against your back and groans in your ear, clearly indulging.

"Ajax, trade places with me?" 

The ginger chuckles and flops back, his expression softening back into Childe. He leans against the headboard to Zhongli's right, by to the edge of the bed. "Sure, xiansheng. Do you want a tur- oof?" 

He's cut off as Zhongli spins you around and drops you on Childe's lap, face to face with the Harbinger. You don't even wait for Zhongli to say anything: you need Childe inside you now. You lift yourself up on still-shaking knees and line his cock up with your hole - definitely loose enough after all that - and sink down with a relieved breath. 

"Hgk." Ajax tosses his head back as he feels you close around him, eyes squeezed shut. You can feel him throbbing inside you immediately, and you take pity on him by not moving immediately. 

"Now, Ajax, while I agree with you on your earlier point, I feel that Y/N also had some valid points." Zhongli leisurely walks around the bed to the other side, on your right. He reaches out and tangles his hand in Ajax's hair, just caressing for the moment. 

"It is your birthday, and you deserve to be made to feel just as special as you've made us both feel today." His eyes flash gold as he tightens his grip and drags the man's head closer to his cock. Ajax goes willingly, eyes glazing over in delight as he opens his mouth and licks under the head. "So let us indulge in you as well," Zhongli says before shoving his dick in Ajax's mouth. 

Ajax chokes around a moan, but you're not worried: you've seen him take rougher and adore it. So you focus instead on finally rolling your hips to soothe the aching burn inside you, moaning without abandon as you get the feeling of fullness you've been craving. Ajax whines as his hips stutter underneath you, and you can tell he won't last long, but that's fine. You're not aiming for another orgasm yourself, you just want him to fill you. 

And he does just a few minutes later when Zhongli shoves his head down and makes him choke on it the way he loves. Ajax's hands tighten around your waist hard enough that you hope they'll bruise later, but you don't let up. You keep rolling your hips and sliding your hole up and down his softening cock, working him into overstimulated whimpers until you hear Zhongli moan out loud as he cums down Ajax's throat. 

Zhongli takes care of most of the cleanup, leaving you with the equally important job of tending to Ajax as you both come out of it. You do recover enough to trade with Zhongli so you can brush your teeth and clean yourself up in the adjacent bathroom, before you collapse into bed together to cuddle Ajax close. You press a sleepy kiss to his shoulder and drift off, content beyond belief.

"Happy birthday, Ajax."

----------------------

I glanced at the wiki while writing this and realized that Xinyue Kiosk (aka Yue cuisine) serves mainly seafood? So Zhongli clearly prefers Liuli Pavilion (aka Li cuisine). It makes so much sense in retrospect why they always meet there. I wonder if Li cuisine was also named after him.....?

Did you know there's an official recipe for Tianshu meat? It's in Chinese, but it's pretty cool.

[eddieandbird]

Part 1 - The Return of Eddie Munson

Eddie & Bird | Part 2

Dustin plopped himself on his bed, exhaling into a groan as he finally felt every one of his injuries he received during the past few weeks. He sucked his teeth as he rubbed his sprained ankle. Dustin rolled over to grab his walkie and placed it right next to him on his pillow.

“Suzie, do you copy?” he said unenthusiastically.

“Dusty! Oh, how I missed your voice” Suzie giggled. “How’s everyone holding up out there?”

“We’re all doing our best. It’s still depressing as shit, with the whole town falling apart… and Eddie…” Dustin’s voice trailed off as he thought about Eddie.

As much as he idolized and admired Eddie for his sacrifice, Dustin’s feelings were accompanied by anger and sadness. Why did Eddie choose to be so stupid in heroism? Why didn’t he just stick to the plan and protect himself from Vecna’s minions? The thought of Dustin never seeing the mop-headed friend anymore killed a part of him. He felt tears building up in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry Dusty… it must be so hard being a big hero,” Suzie cooed

“Thanks, Suz” Dustin wanted to rant about so much more, but he knew that Suzie didn’t need to be roped even more into this chaos. “Listen, I’m actually kind of tired now, so talk to you later?”

“Okay, till next time Dusty Bun. Love you,” She chirped.

“Love you, Suzie,”

Dustin slammed down the antenna on his walkie and let out a sigh. He let his eyelids fall for a moment, on his way to being taken over by a deep nap. Right as he was about to fall, he was snapped out of it by a light knocking at his window. His eyes shot over to it, seeing a dirt-covered hand adorned with silver rings. Dustin sprung up and quickly stumbled over to open the window. He looked down to see a heavily injured Eddie Munson. 

“Hey Henderson,” Eddie panted. Dustin with eyes wide, grabbed him by the jacket and used the very last of his energy to pull him into his room

“What. The. Fuck… Eddie…” Dustin spat.

Dustin froze for a moment. He examined Eddie from head to toe and thought to himself that he looked awful. Eddie’s hair resembled a drowned rat rather than his usual bouncy curls. He had scratches and bite marks all over his face and neck. His abdomen was wrapped in the old sheets they had used to get through the gate in his trailer. All of his clothes were soaked in blood and his jacket had been torn through so badly, that it looked like one more loose thread would make it fall into pieces.

“It’s good to see you again,” Eddie smirked while catching his breath.

“W-what, h-how… I saw you-“

“I liiiived! I survived! Your favorite DM is back and better than ever,” Eddie chuckled before he fell back onto Dustin’s bed

Dustin stopped worrying for a moment and just smiled at him. He was beyond relieved and excited to have Eddie back. He felt so much pride for him that he was badass enough to fight on his own against the Demobats. But once that feeling subsided, he started to silently freak out once again.

“Eddie… What are we going to do? I literally just told your uncle, Wayne you died,” Dustin grabbed onto his hat in distress. “A-and what do I tell the others? They’re going to lose it!”

“I don’t know, Kid. I didn’t know I was going to make it this far,” Eddie spoke softly, avoiding eye contact. Even though he was relieved to finally be reunited with one of his dedicated Hellfire members, he knew better than to get comfortable. He was still a wanted man running from police and those basketball jock assholes. 

Dustin paused and then said “I need to go talk to Steve. Maybe he’ll know what to do,” he shuffled around to get his backpack and walkie. “You, stay here. Don’t leave and don’t make noise,” Eddie wanted to ask him more questions, but before he could speak, Dustin rushed out of his room, slamming the door behind him.

“Dusty? Everything okay?” Mrs. Henderson called from the kitchen

“Yeah Mom, I gotta go help with a volunteering thing, be back later!” Dustin yelled as he got through the door.

“Please be safe!” she called out after him.

Dustin grabbed his bike from the garage and sped off to Family Video.

~

The front door chimed as Dustin stepped inside the VHS store. He was greeted by both Robin and Steve working at the checkout desk.

“Steve’s baby is here!” Robin exclaimed. “How ya holding up, bud?” Steve hopped over the desk and made his way over to Dustin.

“Hey, hey Henderson. Everything alright?” Steve was always happy to see Dustin, but after all the recent events, he had an odd feeling that there was something off. Robin stayed behind the desk organizing paperwork. Keeping her eyes on the desk, Robin said.

“It’s kinda nice for you to pay us a visit, the store’s been dead all day because duh who wants to rent movies while the world’s falling apart-”

“Eddie’s alive.” Dustin interrupted Robin.

The three stood in silence for a moment. Their minds raced about how this was even possible. Dustin was in tears when he told them about how Eddie ran back to fight Vecna’s bats all by himself. He sadly confessed to Steve that he felt deep guilt for not even trying to carry Eddie’s body through the gate.

“Wait hold on, how? I mean how did he even get back from the Upside Down?” Steve put his hands on his hips, giving Dustin a skeptical look.

“I have no idea, I ran down here as soon as I found him… well it was more like he found me, but whatever! Point is, we need a plan on how to help him. He might need medical attention and more importantly, he needs a place to hide,” Dustin spat in a panic.

“Where is he right now?” Steve asked.

“He’s laying low in my room, but I know he can’t stay there. Mom will find him eventually,” Dustin’s eyes bounced back and forth from Steve to Robin. Steve scratched the back of his head nervously. Suddenly Robin’s eyes lit up.

“I know somewhere we can hide him!” Robin chimed.

[amjustagirl]

Love knows not its depth (until the hour of separation) 

pairing: Kuroo x f! reader  genre: angst / fluff, post timeskip! warnings: a tiny smudge of suggestive content wc: 4.9k m.list ~ taglist. ~

a/n: this is my rendition of a grown up Kuroo. life has been a little hectic for me recently, so i’m only getting around to posting it now. pls be kind and i hope y’all love it <3 

“I need a break.”

Kuroo continues to snore. You are unsurprised he doesn’t hear you. After all, he came home glassy eyed, smelling strongly of alcohol after yet another night of drinks with his boss before quickly falling asleep in bed. It’s what he does most weekday nights, leaving you alone at home to manage your two daughters and tuck them into bed. 

“I’m tired, Tetsuro.”

You are too tired to even tell him how you feel. You have a career of your own, two daughters to raise, a never ending list of chores and errands that must be done. You are a mother, a wife, a career woman. You have so many roles to play yet there is no space for you. 

You must do something, anything or risk your heart imploding in your very chest. 

You cannot survive that. 

The next morning, you call your boss, ask for a day off. Then you pack your girls off to your mother’s place with two little suitcases with toys and clothes enough for a long weekend before you take the train to Hakone, check yourself into the ryokan with a view of Mt. Fuji that you spent your honeymoon at - except this time, you’re alone (but then again, you’ve been lonely for so long, you hardly notice the difference anymore).

You dip yourself into the hot waters of the onsens, watch bamboo sway in the breeze. It’s been at least a year since you’ve been even able to take a bath uninterrupted. There’s always something - Aiko needing help with her homework, Fumiko whining for another piece of mochi, your boss calling to chase for yet another report, so all you’ve ever had time for is a hurried shower before placating your daughters or seating yourself in front of your laptop to deal with your boss. 

Finally, you’ve stolen a day to yourself. It’s absolute bliss. 

The water is kind to you. Its heat soothes your aching muscles, the rising steam steadies your breath. You walk out of the baths feeling refreshed, renewed, but when you enter your room you find Kuroo Tetsuro waiting for you. 

“I’ve been calling your phone all afternoon”, he says, face pinched. “I was worried.”

“Were you?” you say before you can stop yourself. “Really?” 

“Of course”, he says, uncrossing his legs to stand. “You’re my wife and the mother of my children, of course I care.”

Wife. Mother. Employee. 

The roles that life has handed you haunts you again. There is no escape for you. 

Your skin suddenly feels as if it’s stretched too tight over your frame. Your bones rattle, brittle. They threaten to break if you take another breath. Yet you laugh and laugh and laugh, the sound spilling from your lips filling the room, suffocating the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. 

“If you really cared, you would have noticed that your wife is broken”, you tell him between bouts of laughter. “I tried fixing myself with a break but you can’t even give me that.” 

Kuroo stares at you, equal parts horrified and confused. He takes a hesitant step forward towards you before thinking the better of it, swerving over to the kettle instead, clutching it as if it holds the cure to your madness. 

“Calm down”, he says, “take a seat”, and you do. He offers you a cup of tea. You accept it, even though you’re still shaking from the aftershock of your laughter. “Drink”, he says, and you bring the cup to your lips, though you wonder absently why you taste salt in the bitter tea. 

“Tell me what’s wrong”, he begs. “Tell me what I can do to fix you.” 

You want to tell him that you’re not strong enough to do what’s expected of you. You want to tell him that you’re drowning from the weight of being his wife, the mother of his kids, from being a working woman that he can be proud of. You want to tell him that you understand his career is important, but so is yours, and you can’t carry the weight of the world alone. 

But that would take too many words, and you are far, far too tired for that. 

So you say blankly - “I can’t do this anymore, Tetsuro.”

His face falls. 

You should remember that Kuroo Tetsuro, first and foremost, is a child scarred by his parents’ divorce. You should remember that you made promises that you and he would never put your daughters through that. But you’ve floated beyond hysteria into a grey indifference, your mind too broken, too tired, too numb to consider him when you can barely even hold on to yourself. 

You don’t even notice the hot tears soaking through your yukata. You are deaf to his pleas to give him another chance. There is nothing left in you to give because you’ve poured all you’ve had into him, into your family, into your job. You are so, so empty, and you just sit and sip your tea and wonder idly if the warmth from the liquid you’re ingesting will make you feel a little more alive, or if it’s possible to ease the dull ache in your heart. 

It is only when you wake up the next day and the sun is high in the sky that you register that he rolled out your futon for you, tucked you into bed, and kissed your forehead as a goodnight and goodbye. But all of this is washed away by the relief you feel when you read the note he’s left behind telling you that he’s returned to Tokyo, and to enjoy your break. 

So you do. 

You relish every bite of the meals you have at the ryokan. It’s nice not having to cook or scarf down your food at your office desk for once. You fill your time flitting between the onsens and curling up in your room with a book, taking frequent cat naps until tomorrow comes around again and it’s time to check out and head home. 

There’s a brief moment of surprise when the reception informs you politely that your husband already paid your bill - but you suppose that’s just Tetsuro being efficient at racking up credit card points. The bullet train takes you back to Tokyo, and a couple stops on the subway takes you home.  

“Okaeri”, you call softly out of habit, not expecting anyone to respond, but Kuroo responds with an even softer ‘Tadaima’, striding over to take your bags from you and usher you into the apartment. There are pink roses sitting in a vase, but you pay it no mind. 

“The girls?” you ask, already headed in the direction of their room. 

“I picked them up from your mom”, Kuroo responds. “Don’t wake them up, I just put them to bed”.

A peek into their room and it settles your mind to see that your girls are safe and sound asleep. 

“Thanks,” you say, back in the kitchen, checking the fridge for what you can whip up for breakfast for you and the girls tomorrow. “By the way, I’ll pay you back for the hotel room from my own money, don’t worry.”

“It’s fine”, Kuroo answers, scratching his head. His hair seems a little more rumpled than usual. “I’ll cover it. I should’ve realised you needed a break.”

“You sure? You don’t have to pay for me, I’ve got money of my own.”

“No, let me pay for it, please. It’s the least I can do.” 

You shrug. “Okay”, you say gracelessly. “Thank you.”

He continues to watch you over the kitchen counter as you lay out bread, eggs, ham, cheese. It’ll do for a quick breakfast for the girls tomorrow, never mind the guilt eating away at you that you really should do better than feeding them processed food all the time. You’re so preoccupied with planning the morning rush, the best way to clear the stack of reports that must have piled up on your desk at work by now that you miss Kuroo rounding the counter to stare down at you worriedly. 

“You haven’t had dinner?” 

“Oh no, I had a bento on the train on the way back.” It’s second nature to you to brush away anyone’s concern. “It’s for the girls’ breakfast.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take them to childcare before work tomorrow. Sleep in and take a break.”

“Really?” You stare back at him, confused. He doesn't even take charge of the girls in the mornings when you’re sick, your mother always has to fill in your place. He only ever turns up on the first day of school each year. 

“Yes, of course. In fact, I’ve rearranged my work schedule so I can take them to school all of this week at least.”

“Oh”, you say, brows furrowed in confusion. “Okay, I guess. Wake me up if you need my help.”

“I won’t”, he replies, with a cocky smirk that seems almost false. “Goodnight, love.”

You don’t think of Kuroo’s strange behaviour overmuch, falling asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. 

Kuroo continues to act strangely all of next week. 

As promised, he takes charge of getting the girls out of bed and ready for school. But you’re taken aback when he starts coming home for dinner, completely floored when he hands you a whole armful of bath salts and orders you to take a relaxing, hot bath while he wrangles both the girls and the washing machine into submission. 

He even calls your mother to ask her to babysit on a Saturday evening so he can take you out for dinner at a fancy restaurant that serves foam instead of food. You manage to stumble through conversation with him - a commendable effort, since it’s been so long since you’ve even held a proper conversation with him besides snatches of discussion about the girls. 

At least until he states during dessert - “we can make it work if you want to quit your job and stay home full time with the children.”

The mousse on your spoon melts by the time you put it down on your plate. 

“Did the guys at work tell you it’s easier to have a housewife instead of a working wife? Are you saying this because you don’t think I’m a good enough mother to our girls? Is that what this is about?”

Kuroo shakes his head frantically, reaches across the table for your hand, but you yank it away with a glare. The extra rest you’ve gotten this week has injected a little more fight in you. 

“I try my best to be a good wife and mother, but I’m sorry I can’t be perfect and be there for you and the girls 24/7.” You press down on the sliver of cake with a vengeance. Clink! goes the flat of your spoon against the porcelain plate. “I’m sorry for being selfish, but I don’t want to be reliant on you.”

You regret your harsh words when Kuroo slumps back into his chair, murmuring “I just wanted you to be happy. Forget I ever said that.”

He pays the bill and you walk home in silence. He bids you goodnight with a crumpled smile. 

It finally clicks when you are startled awake by Kuroo’s shout of alarm. 

You roll over, grabbing his shoulder to shake him awake from the nightmare that has him in its grip. His eyes jolt open, and the sight of your face makes him sink back into the pillow with a sigh of relief. 

“Thank the gods you haven’t left.”

“Why would I leave? This is my home, isn’t it?” You mumble, turning your back to him again. 

You feel the bed shift as Kuroo sits up. 

“No”, he rasps, voice rough with sleep. “I was afraid you left me”. 

Oh. So that’s what all of this is about. 

You must stay quiet for far too long, because he gingerly crawls over to you. 

“Dearest”, he says, your heart suddenly aching because you don’t remember the last time you heard him use that pet name with any amount of affection. “Darling”, he tries again, pawing at your back. You shut your eyes resolutely and refuse to turn to face him. 

He doesn’t give up, even though the distance between you seems to yawn wide and wider with each passing second. 

“Are you?” he asks, his words small, shrunken in the still, dark room. “Going to leave me, I mean.” 

No, you’re about to say, the word balancing at the tip of your tongue but it feels wrong. Your break has given you the space to breathe, the time to think. It’s made you realise what you’ve said to him in the ryokan that night remains true. 

This week has shown you that Kuroo can do better as a husband, as a father if he wants to. But he’s poisoned your marriage with neglect, forced you to dress up your sadness in silence, allowed your resentment to fester and simmer into frigid indifference. If you reassure him that you aren’t going to leave him, it’s only because you’re too tired to, not because you actually love him anymore. 

“I don’t know, Tetsuro. Our daughters deserve to grow up with both their parents, but I’m not sure I want them to learn from my example that it’s okay to shoulder the weight of marriage, parenthood and a full time job all by themselves. Your dreams and career are important, I know, but I’m just so tired of being alone in this marriage when it was always supposed to be a partnership between me and you.” 

You hear him choke back a sob. You should comfort him, but the exhaustion you feel at being honest with him, with yourself, weighs your bones down, forces you to sink further down into your mattress. 

“I’m sorry”, he finally says. 

“I’m tired, Tetsuro”, you whisper brokenly, clutching the blankets to your chin. “I think I deserve better.”

“I know. I’ll make it better, I promise.” 

You want to ask him how, but your eyelids grow heavy, and you allow yourself to submerge into slumber. 

You’re not sure what to expect, but the ground beneath your feet shifts. Things start to change. 

Kuroo continues to take your daughters to childcare in the morning on the way to work as he did last week. That very weekend, he straps Fumiko to his chest, takes Aiko by her hand, and within an hour at the department store aided by a flash of his credit card, he purchases a dishwasher and robot vacuum for the house. He loads the dishes without you asking, runs the robot vacuum remotely once a day. It buys you time to breathe, a little more time to sleep. 

He doesn’t always make it home in time for dinner, but he tries his best to rush home so he can read the girls a bedtime story and tuck them into bed. 

“Dada”, Fumiko lisps, chubby fists wound around Kuroo’s tie. ‘I wanna hear another princess story!” 

“No Fumiko! Papa promised to tell us how he met mama!” Aiko prods Kuroo’s side with the wooden doll Yaku sent from Russia that you know he abhors. ‘Keep your promises, papa!” 

“Alright, settle down you monsters. I’ll tell you two stories if you promise to go to sleep right after that.” The girls cheer. “Now. Let’s see. A long, long time ago, your papa met your mama when she decided to beat him up because she thought he was trying to steal her food.” 

“You were trying to steal my food”, you interrupt, leaning against the doorway amused. “You didn’t stop til I stabbed you with my fork.”

He glances up, surprised when you sit beside him on the bed. Then he grins. 

“You left it on the table, dearest. What was a guy supposed to think?” 

“Mama, please let dada tell the story”, Aiko interjects with a huff. 

“Hurry up, dada! I want the princess story next!” Fumiko pulls at her silly dada’s shirt, pouting. 

You both laugh. There’s a soft smile playing on his lips when his eyes meet yours. 

Travelling all around Japan is still part of his job as a marketing director of the Japanese Volleyball Association. But now Kuroo pares it down to the bare minimum, makes sure he’s always back by the weekend at the very least to sweep the girls in his arms and shoo you off for a break of afternoon tea with your friends or shopping with your mom. 

“Will you be ok when I’m gone?”

You hand him his suitcase, a flask of his favourite tea. “I’ve always managed fine. Nothing’s changed.”

He bends down to kiss Aiko on her forehead, pinch Fumiko’s cheek playfully. 

“Yes. Well. I’ll come home soon”, he says, quietly. You startle slightly as he brushes his thumb over your wrist, lets it drift over your pulse point. “Please wait for me.” 

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes. “I’ll see you soon then”, you reply. His smile widens, his eyes are hopeful, bright. 

On the weekends, he stops flitting off for work functions and events. Instead, now he joins you for lunches at the kaiten zushi near your house, indulging the girls by ordering yet another plate of sushi just so Aiko has another chance to win a toy from the gachapon and Fumiko has another chance at feeling grown up when she lifts the plate from the conveyor belt. He stops ducking out from dinners at the grandparents’ place - both his and yours. Your mom stops giving him dirty looks when he actually turns up more than three times in a row with sake in hand. 

Once every so often, he even throws little parties for your family of four, going so far as to buy a frilly pink apron that makes your daughters giggle when he whips it out for the first time. After a few mishaps (and a number of frantic calls to Fukunaga), he masters how to make takoyaki and okonomiyaki, and in the colder months, he makes steaming pots of nabe and shabu shabu. 

“Itadakimasu” you murmur, and the girls follow suit. “It tastes good”, you say. 

He ducks his head bashfully, pink dusting the column of his neck. 

“Thank you”, he replies. “That means a lot, coming from you.” 

You start to savour the bubbles of happiness in your chest when you see how your daughters’ eyes shine when they see their papa whip out the pink apron. You learn to laugh when you hear the pitter patter of little feet, their delighted squeals and shrieks when they tell you the latest exploits their silly papa is cooking up - sparklers under the stars one weekend, a nerf gun fight, the next.

The weight on your shoulders grows lighter and lighter until one day you hardly notice it at all. 

“What’s wrong?” you frown at the sight of your husband dashing out of your bedroom, hair a frazzled mess. 

He whips around at the sound of your voice. “Oh. Oh.” He approaches you, slowly, carefully. “You’re still here.”

Your frown deepens. “My boss called and asked me to send out an urgent email. I was just about to go back to bed. Tetsuro, is everything alright?” 

He nods. “It’s fine - I just... I just woke up and thought you were gone.” 

You take a closer look. It’s dark, but the shadows of the night fail to hide the purple smudges beneath his eyes, the fine lines carved into his brow. His shoulders are bowed, his lips downturned and he looks broken, battered.    

Your heart hurts for him. 

“I’m here”, you say, beckoning him towards you. Physical affection has been scarce between you two for so, so long but he looks so distraught it’s only natural to pull him close, let him rest his head on your lap. “I’m here, Tetsuro. I’m not about to run off into the night – you know I don’t like the cold.”

He doesn’t laugh at your feeble joke. “Are you happier now? Are things better for you?” 

“Yes”, you say firmly, combing your fingers through his hair, rubbing circles along his back. “Thank you, Tetsuro. I appreciate it. I really do.”

You can feel him sag in relief. 

“You don’t have to work yourself to the bone for me. That’s – that’s never what I was asking for. If you’re tired, you need to take a break.”

He shakes his head stubbornly. “I’m fine. I can bear it as long as you don’t leave me.” 

“Tetsuro –“ 

He sits up abruptly, takes your hands in his. 

“Promise you won’t leave me”, he begs, head bowed. “I know I’ve been a shit husband to you for so long. It’s no excuse, but I thought - ” he swallows heavily, waits until his voice stops wavering. “I thought we were ok, ‘cos we didn’t fight, not like my parents did before – before my mother left.”

“I was too tired to fight with you”, you say simply. 

He nods once, jerkily. “I know – I know that now. When you disappeared that day, I didn’t know what to do. I went to your mom’s place and she reamed me out, screamed at me in front of the neighbours. I took the kids back, and it made me realise how fucking hard it was for you to do it all alone.” He inhales, closing his eyes as if the memory aches. “I know it’s late but I’ve changed, I swear. The girls need you. I need you. I’ll do anything as long as you stay.”

His fingers are freezing, but you do not pull away. Not when the desperation reflected in his irises makes your heart lurch in pain.

“It was hard”, you confess, and he shudders, struck in the chest by your honesty. “It was so hard, Tetsuro. You hurt me so damn much that I think I became numb to the pain. I don’t think I was really functioning for a while. For a long while.”  

“I’m sorry”, he whispers, and you nod shakily. 

“I know”, you reply, reaching out a hand to cup his face, a bittersweet twist to your lips as he melts into your touch. “That’s a chapter of my life, of our marriage that can’t be re-written. We can’t rewind that. But the past few months have been so different. I – you’ve shown me you’ve changed. And I think –“

You fall silent. 

He prompts you. “Dearest?” 

You recall the glimmer of light in your daughters’ eyes every morning when he takes their hands to walks them to school. You hear the echoes of their laughter, the lilt in their sweet voices every night when they welcome him home. You think of the tea parties he throws, the blanket forts he builds, the frilly pink apron he wears without shame and the bedtime stories he weaves every night.

“I think”, you say, with a smile that reminds him of the rising sun. “I think we can make this work again.” 

He stares at you until the weight of your words dawns upon him, and he surges forward to fold you into his arms. 

“Thank you”, he whispers into the shell of your ear. “I won’t fuck this up again, I promise.” 

“Don’t thank me, you silly man”, you nuzzle into his neck sleepily, draping your arms around his waist. “Thank yourself for making me believe in you.”

He laughs wetly, cradling you close as you fall asleep against his chest, soothed by his heartbeat and the tenderness in his gaze.  

Fumiko wakes you up unceremoniously before the sun even rises by climbing into your lap, and you open your eyes to Aiko pouting, hands on hips, demanding to know what’s for breakfast, and dada, dada, make a ham sandwich, pretty please with a cherry on the top. 

“You guys are little monsters”, Kuroo teases with dancing eyes. “Can’t even give your papa a break to snuggle up to your mama.” 

The girls shriek in dismay. “Don’t be mean”, you admonish him gently. 

He mock sniffs. “I’m cranky in the mornings unless I get a morning kiss.”

Aiko and Fumiko crowd the sofa, clamouring to give their papa a kiss, but he stalls them with an imperious wave of his hand. 

“This morning, only a kiss from your mama can chase my crankiness away”. His tone is teasing, but his shoulders remain tense.  

“Nonsense. You make it sound as if kisses contain caffeine”, you scold, swatting his arm lightly as the girls giggle. 

“Yours do!” he protests, and you roll your eyes as you press your lips to the corner of his lips, laughing when he puffs out his chest and declares his day can now start, that everything’ll be as right as rain.

Some days are full of sunshine, whilst others are full of rain. That’s life – but it’s bearable, enjoyable even, now that you and Kuroo face each day together, thanking the sun when it shines, and splashing through puddles on rainy days. 

Things recalibrate. 

The mornings are his domain now – he’s a master at concocting the most random breakfast items to satisfy your finnicky daughters. Aiko sniffs when she informs you that she’d prefer her papa to braid her hair, thank you very much, and when you shoot a look of death at Kuroo, he can’t even keep his face straight, his trademark hyena laugh erupting from his chest. 

You cook dinner in the evenings, appreciating the times when he can join you at the table, not counting the nights he can’t against him because you know he’s trying his best. The girls clamour for his stories every night, laughing when he teasingly scolds them for yanking on his tie, demanding goodnight kisses from both him and you. 

Now you force Kuroo to take some time to himself, shoo him off for lunches with Kenma, get-togethers with his Nekoma schoolmates. “I know you can manage it”, you tell him archly, “but you need breaks  so you don’t burn out, or worse – you’ll lose your hair and we don’t want that”. When he opens and closes his mouth without a smart retort, you smirk. You get your way. 

Both of you organise parties and playdates, inviting your shared friends – Kenma, of course, is a frequent guest, Bokuto, who brings along Akaashi and his sweet tempered little son (who Aiko always manages to pick a fight with, much to Kuroo’s amusement). You host Kai, who always brings offerings of flowers from his garden, Yaku, when he’s in town with his daughter, son and alarmingly fat cat. The adults congregate in the kitchen with food and alcohol, cracking good natured jokes at Kuroo and his frilly pink apron, watching the children cause a ruckus in the living room. 

But you cherish the quiet moments you share with Kuroo at night when the children are asleep in bed. The chats you have whilst soaking in a hot bath about your day at work, the snippets of stories he shares about his boss, his crazy colleagues, the warmth of his arm around you as you stay up to clear emails late into the night, the heated kisses he presses to the nape of your neck to distract you when he thinks you’re working too hard. 

It’s a good life. You’re happy, and so is he. 

A year slips by. 

The seasons come full circle. You return to the ryokan, finding peace in soaking yourself in steaming pools, watching the bamboo sway, the sun rise over Mt. Fuji. But this time, you’re not alone. You persuade Kuroo that he, too, needs a break - deserves one, truly. So you leave the girls with your mother and take the bullet train down to Hakone. 

He shoots you a smirk as you both emerge from the private bath he’d insisted on booking. You swat at him, pulling your yukata higher up your neck, scowling as he winds an arm around your waist to press you into his side. 

“You couldn’t wait til we got back to our room?” you hiss at him. 

He chuckles lowly in response. “Didn’t hear you complaining”, he retorts. 

“We were in an onsen, Tetsuro!” 

“A private one”, he says with a waggle of his eyebrows, laughing aloud when you try and fail to slap your hand over his mouth. “What d’you think I was going to do with my lovely wife? I’m not a monk, sweetheart”

You try your best to shush him, but his cackling manages to capture the attention of everyone in the lift.  

“What a happy couple”, an old lady remarks, within your earshot. “They must be newly married” 

You think she must be a little senile. Or a little blind. 

Neither of you are in your first flush of youth anymore - there are streaks of grey in Tetsuro’s mop of hair, extra weight in your hips and lines in your faces. No one could conceivably mistake you for a pair of newlyweds.

“Nah”, Kuroo drawls easily into your ear. “Just your regular old, married couple.”

You don’t speak until you’re safely in your room. 

“A regular, old, happily married couple”, you say, as he hands you a cup of tea. “That obaa-san got that part right at least.”

Kuroo chokes on the lump of emotion in his throat as you serenely sip your tea. 

The tea tastes bitter (as it always does), but the kisses that follow are so very, very sweet.