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violetflowerswrites · 2 months

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Sweet Relief

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: servant/master, possession, religious-ish themes, dom/sub, sex pollen, cockwarming, oral (female receiving), pain/discipline, fingering, p in v sex, language, 18+

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I’m rewatching the Marvel movies in order and my god. I forgot how absolutely diabolical and adorable young Loki is! I was inspired to make this VERY smutty, all-porn-no-plot fic. Takes place before the events of Thor 1. Hope you enjoy my first Loki fic!

Tags: @foxherder @lovingchoices14

The long linen fabric of your healer’s tunic brushed against the cold marble floor as you rushed past. Your steps were gentle and quick, trying to make next to no sound as you swept past the tall columns, and arched ceilings of the royal halls. Finally outside the gilded wood of the giant doors to his bed chambers, your breath seemed to stall in your lungs.

This simply was not done. You were approached, never doing the approaching yourself. Improper didn’t even begin to describe what you were doing.

Your gentle knock was virtually silent the first time, so you steeled yourself and tried again.

“Identify yourself.”

A lazy voice called from within, but his tone was laced with an undeniable authority.

You spoke your name, placed your title in front of it.

Healer.

You weren’t a lady, a warrior—hell, you weren’t even nobility.

You belonged to a class of healers in Asgardian society. Seen as a type of servant, but respected nonetheless. To serve in the court meant you had a sizable talent for basic magic, and for spiritual healing.

But, if you were a woman in this position, it also meant you were a glorified prostitute.

You and your healer sisters before you have served in the healing room for centuries, servicing warriors, tending to their injuries after battle. But Asgard has long been in a season of peace, so the healers needed to fill another role.

Asgard was now a land of paradise, a land of plenty. That is, plenty of food, drink, beauty, wealth, and of course, plenty of sex. The nobility needed a way to make this discreet. After all, the royal court could hardly be seen having frivolous dalliances with just anyone. They needed to marry for alliance, for power, and for proper bloodlines, of course.

That’s where the healers came in. Come to the healing room for a sleeping draught, or an ointment for a sore shoulder, and get a service on top of it. You and your sisters were carefully trained in the ways of pleasure, and secrecy.

But, here you were, in front of your Lord’s chambers, breaking every rule and propriety ingrained in you since you first worked in the court as a young girl.

“Enter.” He commanded.

With shaky hands, you pushed the heavy bedroom doors open with your slender muscles.

The sight was grand, and a bit unexpected. Thick, dark green drapes covered the walls from ceiling to floor, and deep cherry wood bookshelves lined an entire side of the bedroom. A fireplace and candles were lit, making the chambers seem warm, yet a tinge ominous. A sharp contrast to the golden pearly halls of the rest of Asgard’s royal chambers.

Loki sat at a massive wooden desk, cleaved from the center of an oak tree, and absolutely littered with a number of bottles and vials, books and scrolls. A lone curtain was left half open, letting in what little light was left of the setting summer sun.

He addressed you disinterestedly, not even bothering to lift his head up from his book.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Healer?” Loki called out quietly across the vast room.

Your back was pressed up against the door, unable to get your feet to move. Your body disobeyed what your mind wanted, forgetting to curtsey or even duck your head. Instead, your mouth opened, but no words came out.

Loki took a beat in your silence and chuckled lowly to himself.

“I must say, this is quite unexpected, and against the rules I might add.”

Amusement glittered in his eyes at the mention of breaking the rules.

After all, he was the God of Mischief. Breaking the rules was his bread and butter.

Loki finally gazed up and took you in more carefully, wondering why a healer such as yourself would dare incur the wrath of your order by entering a nobleman’s chambers without permission, let alone the prince of Asgard.

Second prince of Asgard, but a prince nonetheless.

Then he noticed you, really noticed you.

He took in your flushed face, the way you absentmindedly kept rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you hugged yourself, and your thighs pressing your legs together to seek any sort of relief you could.

Even from across the room, Loki’s god-eyes could see the steady thrumming of the vein on your neck, moving rapidly with your heartbeat. He wanted to taste your skin and feel your pulse under his hot tongue.

Loki was a keen observer. Knowing how to read body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice was more important than any magical mischief he could get up to. Reading people was enough to get him most things that he wanted in life.

And right now, he decided he wanted you.

“You may approach, Healer.”

As if the spell had been broken, you swallowed to wet your dry throat and stepped towards the prince.

“How did you get past the guards?” Loki questioned.

“I said you needed a sleeping draught. You’ve been having trouble falling asleep for the past few days.” Your voice came out squeaky and feeble, a far cry from your usual tone.

Loki pursed his lips. This was not untrue.

“Leave it here.” He gestured casually to the desk and went back to his reading, while keeping half an eye on you.

Your trembling hands set down the small bottle of liquid with a bit of a clatter, and you quickly stepped back, just a few feet from where Loki sat.

“There’s something else.” Loki murmured lowly, eyes still flicking over the pages.

��Yes.” You breathed out.

Before you could begin to state your wild request, Loki said something else that you didn’t expect.

“I know you.”

You flitted your eyes up at his handsome face, and was startled by his piercing blue gaze. Quickly, you looked down at your feet.

The younger prince of Asgard had long since caught your eye. Every time he returned from battle you snatched the opportunity to treat him.

Rumor had it that he rarely asked for a healer's services, even when he was at the peak of adolescence. Some said he had a taste for the other sex. Others said he found his pleasure off-planet.

Whereas Thor openly indulged in excess, including women, drink, and violence, Loki was careful, calculated, and purposeful in all his actions. His mysterious, unreadable nature only served to make him more attractive to you.

“Yes, m’Lord. I have treated your injuries before, alongside other sisters.”

“You sang to me.”

You gasped, shocked that he remembered. It was a particularly gruesome battle and Loki was crushed badly in the side. You and your sisters forced him into a spell-induced sleep so that you could bind his broken bones. The Queen was distraught and ordered a round-the-clock watch to ensure he was healing well. You ended up on night watch, singing lullabies when he fought demons in his sleep.

“I did not know you heard me, m’ Lord.” You whispered, the heat inside of you coming out in waves off your hot skin.

“Speak freely. What is it that you request of me?” Loki schooled his tone to sound detached, but you could hear the curiosity in his words.

Sucking in a breath, you relayed a stuttered story of how a nobleman asked the healers to create a love potion that would increase ones libido, but it would only work against someone they were attracted to. Eventually, they would be like a dog in heat, and could only be relieved by intense pleasuring from a potential lover.

And you were the unlucky soul who got “volunteered” to take the experimental potion on a test run.

Although they tried their utmost, your sisters were unable to bring you relief and now, a few hours later, you sought after your long-time crush, Loki.

Hoping he’d do something to help relieve you of your suffering.

Although what, you didn’t dare dream of.

Ashamed, you bowed your head, looking at the marble floor and wishing a hole would open up and sink you into the dark waters below your realm.

At best, he’d let you go back to the healing room and never speak of this again. At worst, he’d have you arrested and banished for attempting such a lecherous act against a prince of Asgard.

“Sit.”

Your head jerked up, and you stared. Loki wasn’t looking at you though, he was back to his book, but his palm patted his muscular thigh.

Gods, was he asking you to sit in his lap?

You slowly brought a leg over his until your core straddled his hips. His cool body temperature immediately soothed your hot one, and you carefully brought your arms to clasp behind his neck.

Moving quickly before he changed his mind, you immediately put your training to use.

“Would my Lord like a massage?” You offered quietly.

“Yes, darling, that would be lovely.” Loki agreed nonchalantly, again, eyes still glued to his book.

Your strong fingers squeezed the tight knots on Loki’s shoulders, feeling the firm, yet lean muscles there. You pulled up his flesh, pressing deeply until the tension melted away in your hands.

Moving upwards, you combed your fingers through his jet-black hair, massaging his scalp, and temples.

The man gave no signs at all that he was affected by your touch, or by having an attractive young woman in his lap.

But then, he turned, exposing a pale neck underneath the raised leather collar of his garments. You took that as an invitation to press your lips to his smooth skin. Loki could feel your warm breath exhale in a contented sigh as your thumbs continued to knead circles, followed by soft kisses all over his neck, up his jaw, behind his ear.

Even with your face pressed to his, you almost missed what he whispered next.

“Warm my cock for me, dearest.”

An uncontrollable whimper escaped from your lips at his dirty words.

To be fully honest, you didn’t know how far Loki was going to let you take this. And the answer seemed to be…

All the way.

You pulled off your undergarments and undid the buttons of his leather trousers. His member was already half-erect, but it came to life fully as you gently rubbed him in both of your warm hands.

Your head fell onto his shoulder, and you could feel the breath catch in his chest as his cock breached your tight entrance.

Your eyes squeezed shut immediately at the contact, having not loosened your sensitive core beforehand, and Loki was large. His member wasn’t the thickest you’ve ever had, but it was slender, and long.

Slowly, carefully, you sank down, half-way at first, taking a pause to adjust, then further in until your ass rested on his lap once again.

The tip of his cock pushed up against your cervix, and you’ve never felt more full in your life.

Relaxing, you pressed your chest to his, leaning in as your core wrapped its hot, moist flesh around him. Loki for his part, was completely silent, reaching his arms behind your back to continue flipping through his book.

“What are you reading?” You murmur, content to just be filled for the time being. The initial stage of insatiable desire had been temporarily slaked by simply having his length inside of you.

“A spell-book on illusion magic. Could be useful for battle, or tricking my brother.” A soft chuckle rumbled through his body, the vibrations stimulating your center immediately.

You moaned, losing yourself in pleasure, but Loki shushed you gently.

“Be a good girl and sit quietly. I want to finish this section.”

So you did. After having spent the past few hours in heat, having any kind of relief now was enough to lull you into a daze. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, the crinkle of pages of Loki’s book, and your quiet breath.

Every so often, he would shift his weight and it would push his cock in a different part of your core. You bit your lip each time to keep from making any noise, but the wetness that leaked from your pussy betrayed your arousal. You were sure that Loki’s thighs would be soaked by the time he finished reading.

Abruptly, Loki snapped his book shut with a bang. You flinched automatically at the loud sound.

“That’s enough, my dear.” He stated with finality.

You gingerly pulled yourself off, his still-hard member slipping out of your core, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. Legs wobbly from sitting straddled wide for so long, you tried your best to look put together, smoothing down your tunic, and taking a tentative step back.

“My Lord, thank you for—“ you attempted a statement of propriety, assuming that you were being dismissed.

Wordlessly, Loki grabbed you roughly by the neck and hauled you forward, an arm pulling your hips against his as he crushed you with a kiss.

Your body melted into his immediately, overwhelmed by the pressure of his lips against yours, his tongue forcing his way into your mouth, and —gods was that teeth?—nipping at your lower lip. You had no idea that a kiss could be so utterly demanding and violent.

Loki wasn’t just kissing you.

He was devouring you.

“It’s time for some discipline, healer. Do you know what a bad girl you’ve been tonight?” Loki growled against your neck, biting you not quite so gently there.

“No, tell me m’ Lord.” The response breathed out through bruised lips. Your pupils were blown out with lust and so were his.

“No? Then, I’ll help you count each disobedience.”

With that, Loki pulled your tunic and shift off, leaving you completely exposed before him.

“Exquisite,” he murmured, while licking his lips.

Roughly, he wrenched your arm and pulled you towards his generous bed, throwing you down the middle of the lush mattress.

Before you had a chance to sit up, he flipped you onto your stomach and smacked a hard slap to your ass.

“Fuck!” The expletive exploded out of you at the sharp sting.

“Number one: deceiving the guards.”

Another slap hit your other ass cheek.

“Number two: sneaking into the royal chambers.”

His hand met your bottom again.

“Number three: sneaking into my bedroom, a prince of Asgard no less.”

Another hit. The skin of your ass was already inflamed pink with the first few smacks.

Loki watched the color bloom before slowly raking his icy-blue eyes across your body. A sheen of sweat had broken out along your back and your face was buried in the sheets.

Loki’s never hurt a girl in the bedroom before, but seeing the redness of your ass, and feeling the tingling remnants of each slap on his own hand. Well, that awoke something sinister in his heart, and his loins.

“Number four: you were a fool to take the love potion. You are supposed to be a healer, not a witch.”

This next blow from Loki was even stronger than the last. The contact with your tender skin echoed off the high ceiling of his bedroom.

“Hells—Loki you are going to leave a mark!” The pain had you gritting your teeth, and temporarily forgetting your manners.

Hearing his name roll off your tongue made him laugh with delight. Who knew he would have so much fun punishing a troublesome little girl like you?

He leaned forward, pressing his erection into the swell of your ass, and spoke lowly into your ear.

“My darling, when I’m done with you, your body will be marked permanently.”

The threat made you shut your mouth and turn your burning face away from his, speechless.

“Number five: you were a fool to seek out me for relief.”

The final hit was the most painful. Loki lifted both of his hands and brought them down with so much force that you let out a scream of shock, pain, and pleasure all at once.

He immediately squeezed your pliant flesh in his palms, massaging the slap-warmed skin there.

After a moment of silence, he released his touch altogether and sat back on the bed, watching you.

Cautiously, you crawled up on your hands and knees and sat up, using your arms to hold up your weight rather than sitting on your tender bottom.

He studied your face in quiet contemplation as he watched a mixture of emotions course through you.

Pain, of course.

A bit of fear.

Apprehension, understandably.

But as you drew in shaky breaths, staring back at him, he saw what he was hoping for.

Attraction. Lust. Arousal. Greed.

Even after all of that, you still wanted him. Hells, even without the potion coursing through your veins you would have still wanted to fuck him.

The dominant, torturous streak was a surprise, but you never knew what Loki was capable of, to begin with.

Everything was a surprise with him.

And yet, you craved so much more.

Suddenly gentle, Loki guided you backwards until your head hit his soft pillows.

He settled in between your legs, prying them apart until his face was inches away from your puffy inner lips.

“How did that feel, my dear?” He pressed kisses against your inner thighs, loving how smooth and soft your skin was.

“It hurt.” You ground out, indignance lacing your tone, trying not to show how anything Loki did to you felt good.

Better than good. He was better than any nobleman you’ve ever had to service before. Sex with them was vanilla, predictable. Loki was anything but.

“Ah, but you liked it. Didn’t you, sweet girl?” He paused and looked up at you with those baby blues.

Underneath his steady gaze, you knew there was no point in lying. Loki could see through you in a heartbeat.

“Yes. It felt good.” You confessed.

Tutting with that silver tongue of his, endearments and praise continued to pour out of that sly mouth.

And kisses. Hot, wet, soft kisses to every part of your inner thighs, your mound, your puffy pussy lips.

“You naughty girl. Entering my chambers, asking me to give you relief.”

He pressed his lips to you.

“Sitting on my cock, letting me fill up that tight cunt of yours.”

A regal nose brushed against your slit, dragging wetness up your core.

“Enjoying pain with your pleasure. Letting me ravage your body. You’re a temptress, my sweet.”

A deep inhale. Gods, Loki was breathing in your sex right in front of you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your nails digging into your palms.

“Did you know, darling, that I could smell you the second you entered my chambers?” He exhaled, warm air tickling the moisture leaking out of you.

You didn’t dare reply, knowing that all that could come out of you now would be whines of lust.

“You, my dear, are ripe.”

With that, Loki dove head first into your cunt, licking and sucking like you were his favorite dessert.

The potion made your pussy swollen and sensitive, so everything he did felt ten times more pleasurable than anything your sisters tried.

Your hands gripped his wide shoulders and your knees fell apart as he ate you out.

“Loki—my Lord, I, I can’t!” You stammered out, head falling back as you enjoyed his worship of your pussy.

“Cat got your tongue, dear?” Loki joked, before taking your clit in between his perfect teeth.

“Fuck!” You positively screamed, which only made Loki double down.

Finally, he let go and you slowly loosened your grip, not realizing that you had been knuckle deep in his beautiful hair, tugging it, tangling it in your fingers. You saw pink half moons littered on the pale skin of his neck and face, evidence of your nails digging into his flesh.

Taking a beat to breathe, you smoothed his locks down on his head.

“Did I hurt you?” You inquired, feeling ashamed that you had lost yourself so completely in your lust.

“Yes. But I liked it, dearest. You can hurt me as much as you want to. Just as long as I can do the same.”

The dirty confession made your heart stutter in your chest, eyes wide. Seeing your expression, Loki laughed aloud, the sound blessing your ears.

He crawled up your body now, straightening your legs.

“Let’s see how ready you are for me, hmm?” Loki inserted one finger, then another into your pussy.

“Gods! That feels—!” You whined.

“Good, isn't it?” Loki finished for you. “Now, what about…here?”

He curled his digits upwards and put delicious pressure onto your spongy inner center.

Waves of stimulation shot through your limbs as your voice cried out in broken moans.

“Your knees are trembling, sweet girl.” Loki observed with amusement.

Indeed they were, and they continued to shake uncontrollably as Loki clamped down even harder, his fingers thrusting now.

“I-I can’t help it!” You cried out again, as Loki kissed your breasts, his hot mouth finding purchase on an erect nipple.

Your hands gripped his wrist and he couldn’t tell if you were trying to pull his hand out, or push it in deeper.

Regardless, he ground his palm against your clit, scissoring his digits inside of you, stretching you.

Preparing you.

“Oh my—I’m gonna cum!” You screamed out. Loki had already made you cum a few times. First, when his cock filled you up as you were sitting on his lap. Second, when he bit down on your clit.

And now, with his skilled fingers, he was making your pussy spasm and weep under his touch.

The orgasm was powerful, your whole body jerking up against his. With his free hand, Loki held you down, enjoying the wild ride.

Finally, as you relaxed, Loki released you and sat back. His forehead dappled with sweat, and his own breath coming in hard.

You couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Loki, your prince, was pleasuring, no—worshiping your body like it was his personal gift from Valhalla. He made you feel pleasure at heights you didn’t know existed. Somehow, he simply knew your body even though this was the first time he had ever touched you.

Lost in post-orgasm bliss, your eyes lazily traveled down to his still clothed erection, fighting to get out of his trousers. A thought crossed your mind.

“My Lord, can I undress you?” You murmured, locking eyes with him.

Loki didn’t reply, instead, he simply watched your naked body approach his clothed one as you slowly snaked your hands up his torso. You found each flap, each button, and slowly undid it all as his garments fell down in pieces on the bed.

You pulled his pants off his long legs, and his cock bounced up to greet you. With a gasp of joy, you pressed a soft kiss to his member and continued your kisses up the toned flesh of his chest until you got to his lips.

The action was intimate, like what lovers would do. And Loki let you touch him, admire him, without a word.

In the last bit of light of sunset, Loki’s skin glowed golden orange. He shone like the god he is.

“Beautiful.” You whispered in awe.

An arrogant smile curved along his face and he cradled a hand along the back of your head. He pressed a long, sensual kiss to your warm mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” He murmured the dirty words against your smiling lips.

Stalking over you like a predator hunts its prey, Loki climbed over your prone body, lining up his engorged cock with your weeping slit.

He watched you watch him as he slid in, inch by inch, your eyes watering as he forced his way into your cunt.

A self-satisfied smirk emerged on his face, knowing just how full he could make you feel.

Gently, he lowered his weight on top of you, pressing down so that his toned flesh covered your supple breasts and soft curves.

As he started to slowly thrust in and out of your tight core, Loki found both of your hands and brought them next to your head, interlacing his fingers with yours. Your palms were hot and sweaty, overwhelmed with the intimacy of his actions.

Summoning all the boldness you had inside of you, you dared your gaze to meet his and he was staring back at you with a mixture of lust and affection.

And also, possession.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Without warning, he pushed faster, his hips smacking into yours with a vengeance. You instinctively brought your knees up to allow him deeper access. The wet slap of his cock into your pussy was sinfully loud in the cavernous bedroom.

All manner of helpless yelps and whines came out of your throat, your hands squeezed his as he fucked you raw.

“You need to be fucked, hard and often, healer.” The way he said your title could have been synonymous with whore.

The intensity of his look was almost too much, daring you to look away, but you found that you couldn’t. You were entirely addicted to this man, stronger than any drug you could have created in the healing room.

By Odin, he was the only one for you.

You pressed your forehead to his as he continued to slam his cock deep inside of your womb.

“I’m yours, my Lord.” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them.

“Loki.” An unreadable expression crossed his face as Loki pushed himself up. He pulled your legs to wrap around his hips as he knelt on the bed. Your pussy was still clenched around his cock and you took the opportunity to suck in a few deep breaths.

“Wha-what?” You panted, confusion furrowing your brow.

“Say my name. Say that you belong to me.” Loki commanded. He rose up, pulling his shoulders back, looking every bit like the prince, the god that he is. His dark hair was pushed back on his forehead, sleek with sweat, framing his sharp features like a crown.

Automatically obedient, the declaration left your lips with sincerity and conviction.

“I belong to you, Loki.”

With a laugh of triumph, Loki grabbed the pliant flesh of your hips and slammed your body against his own. He railed your core with his cock, hitting deeper than you ever thought possible. Your ass slid along his strong thighs, the friction smarting your skin that was still tender from his earlier disciplining.

“Loki—it’s too much!” You cried out, losing yourself in pleasure.

“Cum for me, my sweet girl. Worship me with your cunt!” Loki growled out, thrusting impossibly harder, impossibly faster.

The sensation built and built, his name spilled out of your mouth in an endless stream of moans, until suddenly the pleasure peaked.

In that instance, time stopped. Your lips parted in a silent scream, and you saw him.

Veins bulged in his forearm as he pulled you flush against his hips. Nose scrunched up in effort as he fucked you deeply. His eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, wild in the throes of ecstasy.

Loki was your god.

And he was glorious.

Finally the air in your lungs released in a long-awaited scream and the orgasm crashed down. Nerve endings lit on fire, and your muscles jerked and spasmed underneath his strong grip. In the midst of your pleasure, you heard a faraway groan from your prince, and you could feel jets of hot cum coat the inside of your womb. He was marking you, claiming you as his.

You knew you would be his forever.

A few seconds later, Loki unceremoniously pulled out of your well-used pussy, and collapsed beside you, chest heaving with exertion.

Lying with one arm underneath his head, he lazily stroked your back as you curled up on his naked chest. Finally, the effect from the love potion had dissipated, leaving you with sweet relief.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence, but your mind started to swirl with insecure thoughts. You steeled your nerves to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind.

“Why did you never use me?”

“What do you mean, my dear?”

“Why did you never take a lover? Or ask for a healer’s services? I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, that you’re—“ Your mouth shut with an audible clack of your teeth.

Your clumsy tongue always got ahead of yourself. Worried you may have crossed a line, your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

But Loki answered honestly.

“You’re not my first. But I have long since known that I can’t fuck and forget like my ape of a brother.” He grimaces, and breathes in deeply before saying more.

“When I have sex, I need to own them. Possess them. I'm sure you noticed my dominant streak, my darling.”

“Then why’d you let me come in tonight? Why take the risk?” You wondered aloud.

“I’ve been watching you, my sweet little healer.”

You tensed automatically in surprise. Since when? What did he see? Why did he notice you?

Loki’s gentle voice brought you out of your thoughts as he confessed more.

“If you hadn’t approached me tonight, I would have snatched you from the healing room and made you mine before long.” He chuckled, the sound vibrating deep within his chest as you lay on his skin.

The revelation sank in slowly until finally, Loki pulled you up until your face was level with his.

“You just beat me to it, you naughty girl.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and your furrowed brow automatically relaxed.

“Tell me again. Will you belong to me, and only me?” He searched your eyes for any hint of deception, any trace of a lie.

You were certain that he would find none.

“Yes, Loki. I belong to you.”

…

#marvel #loki #loki laufeyson #Loki x reader #Loki laufeyson x reader #Thor #Thor 1 #Loki fic #Loki smut #Loki fanfic #marvel fic #marvel smut

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t34-mt · 4 months

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western region kyhuines remake for myself because i thought they looked bad, tho they finally look good to me now. the only guys with blue-ish gular sack and skin around the face

they originated from western savannah biome but like every other ethnic group they've spread out. for short they'll be called western kyhuine because that's where they're concentrated the most

you can view the old one from 2023 under the cut

may 17th 2023 version ^ , it makes me feel violent

i also tried to redo them in later 2023, though i didn't like it at all either. they're also from a failed ethnicity chart that im not satisfied with anymore, oopsie

females were based on male wood ducks, and males were based on male mandarin ducks. I don't know what was up with me, ducks are the least kyhuine thing ever yet i did it anyway. the current designs used sandgrouse for reference, pin-tailed sandgrouse to be precise, check them out!

kyhuine has heavy pigeon inspiration in them, mainly because we have pigeons lol. sand Grouse and quails are very much "kyhuine coded" in my brain too. but also, prairie chicken! they have the same feather structure on the head, although angled differently, kyhuine "ears" are just feathers if you pluck them off they'll have a smooth head, the ear hole is near the eye.

might delete the post and repost it if i ever make more of those so it can act as an "ethnicity chart post" (you will never see me make a clean ethnicity chart it will only be doodles like this stuck together. when i start making one i lose my mind because a week later i think the proportions look wrong now im babbling

you can have a sneak peak on me doing a southern male render cause the only refs i have of them is from 2023 again, when they were just 2 simple colors, you can see the older version on the right. even tahofahs were so tiny it makes me giggle. trying to have western faces be shorter with salt flat and southern valley (the guy right here) have the typical pointy longer face. and then easterns get the round funny head

ok byebye

#ms paint #altuyur #kyhuine #2024 #digital art #my art #artists on tumblr #speculative zoology #speculative biology

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twinkling-moonlillie · 5 months

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Lip Gloss (Lucifer x Reader Drabble)

A/N: I was inspired to write this based on this Hello Kitty apple flavored lip gloss that I saw yesterday. I was tempted to buy it lol. Also I'm just getting back into writing, so it may be a bit choppy teehee

Warnings: Slightly sexual, the use of the word apple way too many times...Lucifer may be a little ooc?

If there was one thing that Lucifer loved, it was ducks. But if there was a second thing that Lucifer absolutely adored, it would be apples. Since you have known Lucifer, he has always been obsessed with integrating apples in your daily lives. From his coat that he wears everyday down to the small engravings in the wood framing of your shared bed, apples were everywhere. All of his favorite foods consisted of some type of apple, whether it be apple fritters or apple pie. He had apple themed pajamas, apple themed silverware, apple themed pillows even. The man was completely obsessed.

So that’s why you should not have been surprised with your current situation. Pressed up against the wall with hands pinned above your head, you were face to face with Lucifer. His pupils resembled a solar eclipse, strands of his platinum blond hair sticking up wildly.

Both of you guys were supposed to have met with Charlie and Vaggie for a nice dinner at Ozzie’s thirty minutes ago. While getting ready you had complimented your look with a new apple flavored lip gloss that you had gotten out of amusement a few days prior. With as affectionate Lucifer was, you knew that he would like the new addition, but you were unaware of how feral it would make him.

Just as you were heading out, Lucifer brought you in for a sweet kiss; it was something he did on autopilot, a small display of his endless love; however, once his lips tasted the crisp apple flavor, he almost melted.

Thus, your wall predicament.

“Your lips taste like apples…” Lucifer mumbled, his voice making the statement almost sound like a question. His gaze was focused on your now smudged lips.

“I-I, well…I bought it f-from that new store and it was cute, and I know how much you love apples b-but I didn’t think…” Your stuttering trailed off as a smirk stretched across his porcelain skin, his tongue peaking through and wiping away the remnants of the gloss on his lips.

You tried to look away from the sinful eroticism on display, face completely flushed. “Shouldn’t we, um, go? We’re already-”

But before you could finish your thought, Lucifer had pressed his lips to yours. The grip he had over your hands tightened as he nibbled your bottom lip, the apple flavored gloss long lost.

You were fully consumed, bodies ablaze as you leaned in impossibly close to him. While Lucifer had a long list of talents and skills, his ability to make you feel alive despite your dwindling breath, to erase the past and future and tethering you distinctly to the present, had to be one of his greatest. It was just you. It was just him.

A small whimper escaped his throat as your hands escaped from his grasp, finding purchase in his hair. His hands shakily roamed your body, leaving a trail of electricity that caused a kaleidoscope of butterflies to flutter in your lower regions.

As Lucifer pulled away - eyes dilated and jacket crinkled - he looked dazed, the same way he appeared in the early mornings. The smirk that was thickly painted on his face was replaced with a goofy smile.

How dare this man steal your breath away and look so innocent afterwards?

“Oh golly, we're going to be late! We needed to be there 40 minutes ago!” Lucifer exclaimed as he looked at his wrist.

You patted yourself down, trying to smooth down your hair and fix your also wrinkled clothes. “It’s almost as if I tried telling you that 10 minutes ago” You teased.

Lucifer laughed as he lightly reached for your hand. “Well, I mean, did you really expect me to contain myself when your lips tasted that good?”

#Lucifer #Lucifer x reader #Lucifer Morningstar #Lucifer Morningstar x reader #Lucifer hazbin hotel #Lucifer loves apples #hazbin hotel lucifer #romance #fluff #making out #kisisng #Lucifer smut #Apples #lucifer x you #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x you #gender neutral reader #<- I'm pretty sure

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hgfictionwriter · 9 months

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Quiet

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie takes you camping. She has a surprise in store for you, but you have to promise to be quiet.

Warning: Smut. Even more smut. And it's even longer. Too long, but here we are! All this because I was inspired by Jessie in a beanie.

The gravel crunched underneath your shoes as you walked up to your and Jessie's tent. You took one last glance at the adjacent sites where a few of Jessie's teammates were set up, and they too had retired to their tents for the evening. The whole campsite was quiet in the still of the night.

There was a dull light emanating from your tent as you zipped it open and stepped inside. Jessie had zipped together your sleeping bags and was just shuffling down into it as you closed the tent back up.

"Thanks for setting everything up," you spoke quietly as you gestured to your surroundings in the tent. She gave you a smile.

"Of course."

"And thank you for making me smores," you added with a teasing lilt in your voice. "Best I've ever had."

She chuckled as she adjusted her position on the inflatable camping mattress. "Anything for you," she relayed with a wink.

"Charmer," you deadpanned with a smile lingering on your lips.

You turned around to rummage through your duffle bag and you dug out your sleepwear. You began to get changed, already knowing before you turned around that Jessie would be watching you. When you first started seeing each other, Jessie was a gentleman of sorts - or maybe it really was that she was just coy - and would look away anytime you changed, blushing of course. Now, here she was laying with her hands behind her head and watching you unabashedly. You loved your blushing Jessie, but you had to admit this version of her did something extra to you.

"Nice shirt," she said with a smug grin.

"Oh, this?" You feigned as she turned slightly and lifted the collar area slightly to accentuate the name across your back. "It's just a nice shirt. That Fleming girl - meh, she's alright."

"Alright?" Jessie asked aghast, her pitch rising and her eyes growing wide. "Wow. I guess she's going to have to step up her game to impress you a little more, then," she laughed before opening up the sleeping bag for you. "Come on, princess."

You turned off the small lamp and climbed in, snuggling into her side and giving her a sweet kiss. "By the way, you look so fucking cute in your beanie.”

She kissed you back before subconsciously adjusting the beanie on her head, pink colouring her cheeks that you could see even as your eyes adjusted to the dark. "Yeah, well, you don't look so bad yourself out here. I saw you building that fire. I'm impressed."

"I'm not just a pretty face, you know. And if you want to talk attractive, seeing you chop wood? Well, I'll tell you that's a fantasy I didn't know I had, but consider it fulfilled."

You gave her one more peck as you turned onto your side, your back now to her. She snickered as she turned into you to wrap an arm around your waist and press her lips to your shoulder.

"Thanks for being out here this weekend with me and the girls," she said as she kissed your shoulder again and gave you a light squeeze.

"Of course, babe," you said as you reached behind you, your fingers sneaking under her beanie as you caressed the back of her head. You fidgeted slightly as she tilted her head up to give you a single kiss on the neck.

"I've always wanted to bring a girlfriend camping with me," she said quietly, ending her sentence with another light kiss.

You tilted your head back to look at her to see her watching you tentatively. "I'm the first girl you've brought out here with you?" She bowed her head a bit, ducking behind your shoulder.

"Yeah," she said shyly.

"Aww, Jessie," you cooed and she immediately gave you a light shove, starting to complain.

"Don't make a big thing out of it. Don't make fun of me," she whined.

"I'm not," you chuckled, though making sure to shore up your tone. You just thought she was too fucking cute. "I swear. I think it's really sweet."

"Mhmm," she pouted.

You grabbed her arm and pulled it back around you, trying to pull her closer into you. She let you move her arm, but she didn't move beyond that.

"I love you. I really do. And thank you for bringing me out here," you continued, lifting her arm to give her a quick kiss on her hand before returning it around your waist.

"I love you, too," she grumbled.

"Come closer." You tugged on her arm only to receive a teasing scoff.

"I don't know if you deserve it," she said with mock indignance.

"Babe." You drew the word out in complaint. "I'm sorry." You held your hand up in surrender. "I'll be good now, I swear." You smiled complacently as the mattress shifted as she inched back towards you, though still not as close as you wanted.

"Yeah?" She asked, her voice ever so husky as she planted a small kiss on your shoulder.

"Mhmm," you promised with a series of nods as you gave her arm another tug.

She leaned up on one arm so she could move her head up over you and she laid a slow kiss on the pulse of your neck. You felt her smile against you as you subconsciously moved beneath her.

"I'll have to think about it," she said quietly, her voice low and teasing as she continued to lay slow, sensual kisses along your neck.

"Mm, what can I do to convince you?" You said as you reached your arm back and ran your fingers along the back of her neck.

"I guess we'll have to see."

You were readying a complaint when she pulled away from your neck, but she soon resettled herself - her arm wrapping around you tightly and pulling her flush up against her this time. Your complaint was replaced by a small gasp leaving your lips as you suddenly became very aware that Jessie was wearing a strap with her boxers.

"What's wrong, baby girl?" Jessie asked innocently as she peppered slow kisses along the back of your shoulder.

"Nothing," you replied with a breathy laugh. You turned your head to see her wearing a shit eating grin. You lowered your voice to a low whisper. "I just didn't expect to feel your cock up against me. That's all."

"Hm? This one?” Jessie asked as she gave a roll of her hips. You moaned subconsciously and before it was even fully out of your throat you found yourself on your back, pressed into the mattress. Jessie was on top of you in a flash, her hand fully, but gently covering your mouth. While that was a new experience for you, you were even more distracted with the fact that she was now between your legs and her strap is pressing against you through the fabrics between you.

Jessie tilted her head down so her lips were brushing against your ear, sending goosebumps across your skin. “You know I love hearing you moan and call my name. But new rule tonight. You can’t make any noise.”

You let out a muffled groan through Jessie’s hand and she chuckled lightly into your ear, causing you to squirm under her at the sensation that went through you as her hot breath tickled you. “Not off to a good start, my love,” she chided. She shifted against you once more, purposely grinding the strap against you through your clothes. You frowned in frustration as you shifted back against her and another small moan worked its way up.

Jessie sat back just enough to give you a look as she tutted in disapproval. “Baby. If you can’t keep quiet I’m going to have to stop.” She couldn’t hold back a smirk as you began to whine and fidget. She leaned back in, this time her knee nudging your leg further out as she pressed up against your core again. “You don’t want to wake our friends, do you? Or worse, the other campers?” She nipped at your ear lobe and you grit your teeth. “Everyone hearing you moan and beg and call my name? What would people say?”

Heat immediately pooled between your legs at her words. You weren’t exactly a prude before you met Jessie. But what you had with her was very special - she always made you feel safe and cared for, and God was she attractive. Never mind how she looked, but it blew your mind to think about the things she'd say to you in bed. Everyone saw her as sweet and innocent Jessie; they had no idea how dirty a mouth she had for you. Needless to say, she brought out another side of you when it came to sex. To this day, even in this moment, it still shocked you how much of a slut you were for her.

You inhaled deeply as your gaze shifted to the top of the tent in an attempt to focus on staying quiet. She kissed your cheek gently as she removed her hand from your mouth. “That’s my good girl," she said as she dipped a hand past the waistband of your shorts and into your underwear, her fingers easily sliding through your slick folds. Her breath hitched and you felt her roll her shoulders as a satisfied smirk crossed her lips.

"Mm, so wet for me already."

You ran your hands up the back of her neck and massaged the taut muscles there. Her eyes closed as she leaned into your touch. Your ran your fingers up the back of her head and removed her beanie before playing with her hair as it fell to frame her face.

"I'm always wet for you," you murmured quietly in her ear as you shifted your hips up against her fingers.

She paused and stiffened, suppressing a moan of her own. Her words always got you going, but your words could get her too.

After a moment of recovery she exhaled gruffly and you soon found your shorts and underwear pulled off and carelessly thrown aside and she shifted you both back onto your sides so she was spooning you. Her hand gripped the back of your thigh and she lifted your leg to began slowly grinding her hips against you, the strap pushing back and forth through your folds, hitting your clit and sending shockwaves through you.

You inhaled sharply and she moved in closer to whisper in your ear. "Remember, baby, no noise." A purposeful pause before she took your earlobe between her teeth and flicked her tongue across it. "No matter how hard I make you cum."

You practically melted into her and the mattress at the sentiment. You could feel her prideful smile against you at having you so worked up before she'd really even gotten started.

"You are so fucking wet," she whispered as she drew the strap back and forth through your lips painfully slow. "I can hear how much you want my cock."

A small moan moved helplessly up your throat though you did your best to stifle it. Still, she gave you a disapproving noise.

"Uh uh," she warned with a teasing voice, although she continued to move her hips. "You keep that up and I won't give you what you need." She tightened her grip on your leg and lifted it a touch higher. You needed no encouragement and you spread your legs further for her. She moaned into your neck and kissed you. "I know you want me inside of you. You want me to fill you up. You want me to fuck you so hard you can't think straight. And I want to fuck you so hard and so thoroughly that you can't think of anything but me for days."

"Jessie," you whimpered.

"Babe," she scolded as she stilled her movements. Her fingers dug into your thigh momentarily before she pushed you firmly down so you were flat on your stomach. Your hands gripped the sleeping bag as she shifted to straddle you from behind, her legs on either side of yours and her hands up by your arms.

"I thought you said you were going to be good?" She said tersely. She snickered as you wriggled beneath her, desperate for her. You turned your head as best you could to look at her and you nodded, pleading to her with your eyes.

"I don't think you deserve to have my cock inside of you," she taunted. Her sharp words juxtaposed by how she tenderly caressed your arm with her thumb.

"Lucky for you," she continued, her tone now light as she began sitting back, tracing her fingers along your arms until her palms were resting on your back, "I've been waiting all night to be inside you. It was all I could think about and I can't wait any longer."

Your mouth fell open and she shifted back to adjust herself. Your back arched as you felt her line up the tip of the strap with your entrance. She leaned forward just so and you felt the tip enter you. A deep breath filled your lungs and you tightened your grip on the fabric beneath you at the feeling of her entering you. You desperately wanted more.

"God, you're gorgeous," she murmured before leaning forward and easing herself into you to the hilt. You had no hope of stopping the gasp that escaped you at her filing you so fully.

"Mmm," she warned as she moved her hands up your body and rested them under your arms. She held herself up to not let her full weight rest on your, but her body was planked on you now and her head was next to yours.

She remained motionless inside of you, making sure you were quiet - torturing you, really - before drawing her hips back. Your back flexed under her as pleasure flowed through you at that simple action. She paused again, the tip barely inside of you as she held you transfixed, before slamming down into you.

This time, there was no more teasing. She began thrusting into you repeatedly, rolling her hips in a way that made sure to send spasms through you at every contact. You buried your face in the pillow and had to bite it to prevent yourself from crying out. The mattress gave under you with every thrust and it only added to the force and sensation of it all.

She tilted her head down, her breath hot and heavy in your ear as she expertly pulled out and rammed herself back into you.

"How does that feel, baby?" She whispered. She latched onto your neck and sucked hard on the skin there when she saw you clench your fists in response to her question. "Mm, I know you like that. You love when I mark you. And I love letting everyone know you're mine." She clamped down on your neck again. You arched into her touch and were now white-knuckling the sleeping bag to keep quiet. "I love knowing that anyone who sees you will know you're taken. I'm not sharing you with anyone," she said with a sharp thrust for emphasis.

A small moan escaped you - her possessive claims and her skillful actions proving to be too much. Jessie stopped immediately and a whine fell from your mouth. She leaned down whispering into your ear. “I told you I’d stop if you made noise.”

You clenched your fists impossibly harder, using every ounce of strength to not groan in frustration. You rolled your hips back up at her and she let out a low moan at the friction it caused. You opened your eyes as you heard rustling as she clutched the sleeping bag within her fists now too.

Despite how blown out her pupils were from lust, she still scolded you. “That wasn’t nice."

She wrapped an arm across your front along the collarbone, but still gave you a kiss on the back of your shoulder. You grasped her arm as she started moving inside of you again, your nails digging into her forearm and she sunk her teeth into the flesh of your back in response.

She held you tightly as she began fucking you roughly into the mattress. You dug your nails deeper into her forearm and she bucked harder against you.

"Fuck, babe," she panted. "Nobody makes me feel like you do."

You tossed your head back in response and she began hungrily kissing your neck once more. Even if you didn't make a peep, the sound of your arousal filled your ears every time she moved. Her boxers were going to be ruined with your juices the way you were dripping and with how she was slamming into you. You know she had to be soaking as well - she loved fucking you with her strap and from the hitches in her breath and the moans that fell from her lips, she was nearing her edge too. You felt that pit deep inside of you tightening and tightening and your legs squeezed together as your climax quickly approached.

"It's okay, baby," she whispered encouragingly into your ear as she pulled you closer against her. "You can come. I want you to come for me." You reached behind you and found the back of her neck and clutched her down to you. She grunted and squeezed you tighter as she breathed against you. "I'm gonna come for you, too."

You couldn't help it, a longing groan fell from your mouth as you tightened around her and your insides began to pulse. Waves began to rush through you and your nails clawed at her, you were sure they had to be breaking skin by now.

"Ah fuck," she panted, her voice thick with desire as her head lolled against yours. Then she moved one leg up to plant it on the bed so she was kneeling, her hands now gripping your hips and began fucking you feverishly.

You buried your face back into the pillow and bit down hard, nearly screaming as she plowed you into the bed. A wanton moan escaped as she suddenly dug her fingers into you.

"Y/n." Your name fell from her lips, her voice suddenly high with need. Her thrusts stuttered as her own orgasm overwhelmed her. Her breathing was ragged, her grip on your hips releasing and tightening and back again as she rode out her climax.

As your waves began to dissipate, her strokes evened and slowed until she pushed in one final time and collapsed on top of you.

"Oh my God," she breathed as she shifted her weight a bit to give you some reprieve. You liked having her fully on you, but she always felt like she would hurt you if she did. You both lay there catching your breath and recovering.

"I love you so much," she eventually said in reverence as she kissed along your back.

You turned your head slightly, head still fuzzy and in a daze, but you smiled at her. "I'll never get over how good you are," you said with an airy laugh. "Jesus. That was," you trailed off, your eyes fluttering shut momentarily, "beyond amazing."

She pulled out of you, one last jolt going through you as she did so. She leaned down and kissed the corner of your mouth before laying on her back next to you. She reached down and took off her boxers and the strap. She held up the boxers briefly before tossing both items over to her bag.

"Well, those are definitely laundry."

"Shut up," you whined as you ducked your head a bit into the pillow.

"Hey," she chuckled as she rolled back over, placing her arm around you and kissing your temple. "It wasn't just you," she said pointedly, before adding, "besides, you know how much I love how wet you get for me."

A smirk crossed your face. "Honestly. Dripping wet for you." You saw her jaw clench at the proclamation and you arched as her fingers dug lightly into your hip once more.

"You're getting me worked up again," she warned as she tugged you towards her.

"You say that like it's a bad thing" you retorted as you hooked a leg over hers.

"Fuck, babe," she breathed and she firmly ran her hand across your back and pulled you closer. "I don't know how you do this to me." She inhaled deeply, before letting out a sharp breath as she pushed you onto your back and moved on top of you. Her gaze was dark and it sent renewed sensations through your core. You dragged your nails teasingly down her back before gripping her firm ass.

Her eyes closed as her back arched into your touch. She opened her eyes once more with a shuddering exhale.

"I would do anything to keep you happy," she said earnestly. "You mean everything to me."

You cupped her face and pulled her gently down towards you. "I have never been this happy in my entire life. Jessie Fleming," you took a quick breath as you trailed a finger across her collarbone absently, "you are the best thing that's ever happened to me."

She let her head fall gently against yours and she let out a content breath. "I love you. So much."

You wrapped your arms around the back of her neck and tilted your chin up to capture her lips with your own. You both quickly deepened the kiss and soon your tongues were teasing each others.

You shoulders rose and your breath hitched as her hand began to run up your thigh.

"I want to feel you," she whispered against you as her fingers began to explore between your folds.

"Oh my god, Jess," you breathed as you tightened your grasp on her and rolled your hips into her fingers. You winced in pleasure as her other hand gripped the base of your neck.

"I want you inside of me," you told her between kisses and this time she obliged you quickly. Her thumb came down to rest on your clit as she sunk two fingers into you and curled them upwards. A quiet moan fell from both of you.

"Fuck," she gasped, "you feel so fucking amazing," she praised as her head lolled from side to side at the feel of you tight around her.

"Jessie," you panted as she began to move, her fingers now soaked in your arousal. "You feel what you do to me?" You asked as you ground into the palm of her hand.

"Oh my god, Y/n."

Your eyes opened as Jessie withdrew and began to sit up. You gave her a puzzled look before realizing that she was about to move down your body. You gripped her toned arms and held her in place, urging her to come back up. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"I want you up here with me tonight."

Her expression relaxed and she gave you a small smile as she climbed back up you. She moved one hand into yours and laced your fingers together before kissing you deeply.

"Anything for you," she said as she dipped her fingers back inside of you. You melted into her touch. You gripped her hand tighter and you spread your legs wider for her. "Mm, baby," she said with a groan of appreciation. "I love when you do that. Jesus."

"Fuck me, Jess," you whispered into her ear as you moved your hips in time with her. "Make me yours."

A low, hungry growl rumbled in Jessie's throat and she released your hand to wrap her arm around your lower back and she pulled you into her. She flexed her legs, shifting them to spread yours even more before leaning down into you, pinning you to the mattress with your legs now up on her shoulders.

"Always," she said, her eyes locking on yours. I'll show you who you belong to," she promised as she gave a strong thrust of her hips, her fingers thrusting hard and deep into you.

"Oh God," you said as your eyes rolled up into your head. She began fucking you, her whole body moving with you and she quickly added a third finger, stretching you out even more.

"This pussy belongs to me," she stated as she hit your g-spot again and again. "You belong to me." Your mouth fell open and all you could do was try to breathe. "Tell me," she demanded as she began moving into you harder. "Tell me who you belong to."

"You. Only you, Jess," you managed to say, your voice filled with need. Jessie was truly the sweetest and kindest person you knew, but when she was knuckle-deep inside of you, she - and you for that matter - became someone else entirely. And you fucking loved it.

"That's right, baby," she breathed. "And I'm yours. You have all of me."

"Jessie," you moaned, "I'm going to come already."

"Come for me, baby. Show me you're mine."

You wrapped your arms around her tighter. You brought your head up and bit down on her shoulder, smothering a scream as you came around her fingers.

As you came down from another high, she slowed her pace and laid you gently back down on the mattress. You only now realizing that she'd been basically hold you up in her arms towards the end.

You covered your face in both exhaustion and elation, your body completely limp. You didn't think you could move even if you tried.

Your eyes were closed as she crawled up your body again and gave you tender kisses on the cheek.

"My beautiful girl."

Her fingers traced feather-light touches across your arm as she patiently waited for your to come around. When you did, you gently cupped her cheek and pulled her in for a slow kiss.

"I'm just gonna say it. If we ever split up - which we won't," you said, added the latter in exclamation knowing she'd interject, "I would definitely be coming around and begging you for a thorough fucking."

She frowned at you displeased. "But I don't want to just fuck you."

"I know," you smiled, "and I love you desperately for that."

Jessie huffed. Pouting still as she curled up against you, wrapping an arm protectively around her waist. "I don't like you talking about us breaking up," she complained.

"Baby, you're perfect. I could never leave you," you placated, though it was true.

"Stop," she whined as she buried her face in your shoulder.

"I'm sorry," you chuckled. "What can I say? I'm a little discombobulated after those core shaking orgasms." She scoffed, but you felt her smile against you. You knew she got a high off of how good she made you feel and you knew she'd be wearing the marks from you like badges of honour tomorrow.

You laid a kiss on the top of her head and she kissed your collarbone.

"Now," you said, a lilt in your voice as you grabbed her wrists and moved so you were now straddling Jessie's waist with her hands pinned beside her head. "Let's take care of you."

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

Though Jessie was normally an early riser, the camp was full of activity by the time you both woke from your sleep. You both got dressed and stepped out to see her teammates prepping breakfast already.

"Better get these two some coffee. They were up all night.”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso #woso community #woso x reader #chelsea wfc #canwnt #jflem

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toms-cherry-trees · 5 months

Text

"Look After You" || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Time and distance cannot break certain promises

Word count: 4.2k

Tags: Mentions of war, mental asylums, unjust imprisonment, mentions of controversial mental health treatments, cross dressing (?), implications of violence against women, illness, no betareading we go in raw

Author's note: You might have seen this post where I mention the life of Dorothy Lawrence. Well this is very loosely based on her life mixed with Tommy's story. Left it very open to a part 2 if people like the premise.

(Yes my people watch me put together moodboards instead of choosing gifs)

Requested tag (hope not to disappoint) @brummiereader @emotionalcadaver

The asylum stood tall and imponent before Tommy’s gaze, its towering central dome and flanking turrets framed by the bright sun rays of a cheerful spring afternoon. The radiant gardens contrasted dramatically with the derelict state of the building itself; rusty and broken drainpipes hanging from the roof, rotten wood frames and shattered window panes, missing chunks of brick on the walls, revealing the inner framing and plaster. Nothing about that place inspired trust to those who crossed its threshold, let alone hopes of betterment. The lamentable exterior stood like the perfect match of the decadence within.

The smell of rot assaulted him the second he entered. The paint had started to peel off, and moisture stains crawled across walls and ceiling. Most windows in the main hall were shuttered, and the incandescent light bulbs did little to cut through the darkness, casting a sickly shadow over the room. The orderly that welcomed him in the entrance had an embittered face, and he questioned Tommy on his name, whom he was visiting and his reasons to. He patted him down and overturned his pockets, making him leave behind anything that could be used to harm or be harmed. Cap, cigar case, lighter, sleeve garters and shoelaces stayed behind while another orderly led him through long hallways and endless locked doors towards the morning hall where he’d meet the purpose of his visit.

Finally, they stopped before a wide set of oaken double doors with panels of rubbed glass, which allowed him a faint peek of what happened on the other side. The orderly barely opened the door enough to enter himself and told Tommy to wait outside, as if he feared something may escape from within given the chance. After a few minutes he returned, leaving the gap open for Tommy to pass through.

“Sister Janice will take you to her. Don’t look at other patients. Don’t talk to other patients. If they come to you, ignore them. Don’t take anything they give you”

Perplexed, curious and mostly annoyed by all the delays, Tommy ducked under the orderly’s arm while he held the door open. As soon as he stepped inside the orderly let go, and the door closed behind him with a heavy click.

The sudden brightness hurt his eyes after the unceasing darkness, and Tommy had to squint briefly as his pupils grew accustomed to his surroundings. An ample hall stretched before him, arch windows spanning from floor to ceiling lining the west and north walls. Moth eaten draperies of blue velvet had been drawn back to allow sunlight in, in hopes of insufflating some life into the gelid heart of the asylum.

The room had surely once been a magnificent ballroom, but had now been reduced to the sad, dirty, abandoned alcove where the non-aggressive patients spent most of their waking hours, some engaged in the very few activities offered to them, others dragging their feet and mumbling to themselves like lost souls, their gazes absent and their appearance unkempt. Not one person appeared to have a coherent thought there, and Tommy wondered if it was due to their own ailments, or due to the medicines the nurses forced down their throats to keep them tame and peaceful, albeit stupid.

As Tommy walked past, he couldn't help but notice the way his presence drew attention from them. The patients stopped in their tracks to stare at him as if he were the most marvellous wonder they had ever seen. They pointed at him, uttering incoherences and laughing at jokes no one else heard. Some tried to get close but were forced back with a sharp gesture by the nun accompanying him, whom only now Tommy noticed, carried a mean looking leather strap, hanging side by side with a rosary from her cord belt.

At long last, she came into view. Slouched on a rocking chair facing the windows, a ragged purple cardigan thrown over a white, floor length dress, resembling more a nightgown than any sort of decent clothing. A white linen cap covered her hair, and Tommy noticed that the ties had been removed, as had been from the rest of her garments. She looked thinner, thinner even than she did in France. She gave no indication that she had noticed their presence, her dulled eyes fixated on the gardens outside.

“I have it from here, sister” Tommy dismissed the nun with a wave of his hand, dragging a nearby stool to sit next to the woman.

“I’m sorry Mr. Shelby, but I cannot allow you to be unsupervised with a patient. She seems tame now, but who knows what atrocities a woman of sin like her might commit”

Tommy wanted to snort. She barely looked strong enough to hold herself in the chair, how could she harm anyone?

“She won’t attack me sister” Tommy insisted “Now step back, and I will make sure the asylum is handsomely rewarded for your troubles.”

The nun opened her mouth, ready to argue, but then chose against it. The asylum could do with some extra coin, after all. She straightened up and smoothed her habit, perhaps a way to reinstate her authority that Tommy had so brazenly challenged.

“You have half an hour” She stated at last before walking away towards a group of patients who were seemingly arguing over a doll.

Tommy’s gaze returned to the woman in front of him, who continued to be absent from the world around her, and who gave no sign of life other than the steady rising and falling of her shoulders with each breath. Thomas allowed the pause to linger between them a few seconds longer, but he didn’t want to waste his allotted time. He wouldn’t put it past these people to drag him out like that; the laws of men did not apply in these sorts of places.

He called her name softly, in a nearly soothing whisper. Once, twice, thrice, yet it did not do to her more than the drafts howling through the broken panes or the maniac laughs of the patients around them. He didn’t want to touch her and risk startling her, but he didn’t want to spend his visit staring at her left cheek. He took his last chance, using this time a different name, a name he had not pronounced since 1915.

“Private Anders”

The name stirred something in her mind. Her back straightened a bit and her features quivered in recognition. Slowly, stiffly, she turned towards Tommy, her eyebrows first furrowing in confusion then rising in surprise.

“Sergeant Major?” Her shock could not be disguised, and she readied to rise and salute, but Tommy motioned for her to remain seated.

“At ease, private”

Tommy recalled perfectly the first day he saw her. They were stationed near Albert, digging up a new front line as they tried to gain terrain from the Germans. The troops from the British Expeditionary Force and the 179th tunnelling company consisted mostly of coal miners, all turned sappers whose task was to ready up the land for battle. The clay rich soil basically melted between their fingers when it rained, making the digging of trenches and shelters a never-ending battle. The dampness crept up their legs and seeped into their bones, and Tommy had seen one too many soldiers whose feet rotted inside their boots. Even the strongest men, used to work from sun to sun in the depths of the coal mines breathing dust and methane, would sometimes succumb to the elements.

Tommy worked paired with Tom Dunn, a man as thick of back as he was of skull. He could easily lift an adult man and throw him across the field like a sack of potatoes, and legend has it he pulled the coal carts in the mine when the horses couldn’t. If left to it, he could probably dig out the trench with only his hands and his helmet.

He had been the one to introduce Tommy to her. Dunn had hidden that little lunatic in an abandoned cottage, not too far from where the troops were stationed. Somehow, she had obtained a uniform, which she had padded with cotton wool to flatten her curves and broaden her shoulders. Her hair had been cut in a military style, scrapes on her cheeks simulated a shaving rash, and potassium permanganate attempted to sharpen her jaw and cheekbones with dark shadows.

She slept in a damp mattress, with little more than a threadbare blanket to keep her warm; she had no means of acquiring something better, nor could she light a fire in the dusty hearth for fear of being discovered. Dunn had been feeding her with whatever he could spare from his own rations or snatch from others, which meant she had been eating the minimum for survival, since the woods offered nothing but naked branches at that time of year.

Tommy had been left thunderstruck, far too much to react properly. A million questions came to his lips, and a million died there as his mind couldn’t exactly put into words what he wanted to know. His gaze flickered between them both, who looked at him pleadingly like a couple of children asking their parents to stay up late. His first instinct was to call up their superior and hand her over to them, for her own safety, but then he thought about it better. The things that could happen to her if he handed her over to the war office…and that’s it, if they handed her over in the first place, or chose to make justice themselves.

No, for the sake of her safety and his conscience, he would play along with them for now.

“What is your name?” He inquired, a simple question to cut through the gelid silence that had befallen them.

For an answer, she handed Tommy papers and a matching dog tag. Forgeries, most likely, and very good ones, which meant she spent money on those. Paying from her own pocket to go to war

They held each other's gaze for endless seconds. At long last, Tommy offered a handshake.

“Welcome to the 179th tunnelling company, Private John Anders. I’ll look after you”

Tommy hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the meeting. The person who sat before him, hunched and dirty and completely lost to the world, bore no resemblance to the fiery, and perhaps a little unhinged, woman that had gone through every length to infiltrate herself in the front line. Years of memory seemed to have been erased from her mind, but she recalled vividly everything she went through in her time in France. She did not know the day and year she lived in but could easily recite the names of every man she met from the 179th, as well as every technique they implemented to dig out the clay.

Tommy was sure that, if he were to put a shovel in her hands, she would unconsciously start digging.

He had partly placated his worries by placing a nurse in the asylum, one handpicked by Polly and paid out of his own pocket, to look after her. But that solution felt like not enough. Not by a mile. What that place did to her, what they were turning her into…Killing her bit by bit, stripping away her sanity to erase from her any memory she held of those weeks in the front. He still recalled the tunnel collapse, when the rain-soaked clay began to crumble over them like cold tar, obscuring their vision and sticking their feet to the ground. How the men dragged out each other, coated from head to toe in the reddish paste. She had tripped, her foot had gotten stuck, he couldn’t tell anymore. All he knew was that she had been left behind, and he had re-entered the tunnel for her. Feeling his way through the darkness, keeping an eye on the entrance, calling her name out; her fake name, for even in the face of danger he had the mental fortitude to remember the importance of her cover up. How she dropped her own facade, her fearful voice calling him as she stretched her arm towards him.

Tommy, Tommy, Tommy

“Tommy!” Billowed an angered female voice, dragging his thoughts back to the present time.

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, attempting to dissipate the fogs of the past that laid over them. Because he was not in the tunnels, nor in the Western front. He was sitting in his office, behind his desk, nursing a whiskey in his hands and with Polly sitting across him, equally angered and perplexed at her nephew’s inattention.

“You know I don’t appreciate my words being wasted”. It sounded like a threat, but half of the things Polly said usually did “If you had no interest in this briefing, you could have rescheduled our meeting”.

“You hate your time being wasted” Tommy pointed out.

“Which is exactly what you’re doing now” She remarked.

Silence lingered in the office while Polly lit a new cigarette and Tommy downed his drink, which had already begun to warm in his hands. He stood to pour another, which he finished almost immediately.

“So” Polly began, exhaling the smoke in an elegant blow “Will you tell me what’s on your mind?” As usual, Polly could see through him as easily as one would do through a clean glass. It unnerved him sometimes, to be laid open so vulnerably under her watchful gaze.

“It’s nothing” Tommy sat before the fire; hands laced behind his head in an attempt to seem relaxed.

“There’s been many things on your mind, Tommy, and nothing has never been one of them”. Polly’s slender fingers ran across the glass bottles on the bar cart before settling on gin, pouring herself a more than generous serving.

“You’re thinking of her”.

Tommy immediately thought of denying it, but what was the point? When Polly knew, no one could tell her otherwise. And as much as he hated others meddling in his business, the words came tumbling before he could hold them back.

“I’m just worried. She’s not the same she used to be. I don’t know what they do to her in that place, but she’s changed. Those medicines they give her, and who knows what else they’ve done. You know the treatments” He shook his head, as if to dismiss everything he said “Just worried”

“It’s been many years since you last saw her. Everyone changed after the war. God knows you did”.

“This is not the same. They’re killing her there” Tommy stared up at the ceiling, as if hoping to find a solution to his problems in the plaster. Polly only watched him, pondering over her next words carefully. She only hoped she would not regret whatever her nephew chose to do next.

“If her wellbeing worries you so, you have to do the right thing”

He frowned, turning to look at her with confusion clear in his eyes. Polly sipped the gin, swirling it around her mouth as she gave it a last thought. This was one of the far and few times in which Tommy proved he had a heart, and that softened her as well.

“If you are worried, you act. If they’re killing her in there, you get her out”

The sun had finally shone upon the soldiers after nearly a week of bad weather, when rain and fog had turned the living conditions in the trenches into nearly inhumane. The soldiers were happy, for they would no longer shiver until their bones ached, and they would at last be able to put their clothes and themselves to dry. The tunnellers were less than pleased, for the sun had dried the clay into a solid wall, forcing them to exhaust their muscles to dig out chunks the size of their heads while the sweat ran down their temples and backs. Their comrades kept them supplied with water, but it felt like pouring water on a bottomless bucket.

Tommy worked side by side with her. Him. Her. Her identity still got tied in his mind, and he had to think through every word addressed in her direction for fear of blowing her cover. He watched her out of the corner of the eye as she swung the pickaxe with a strength and determination he never expected to see in a woman. Despite her resilience, Tommy worried about her, and kept a watchful gaze for any sign of exhaustion. She could not afford to be taken ill or injured, for a trip to the medical tent would be enough to unravel all her carefully crafted lies. He had to take care of her.

They both worked in the very end of the trench, and the sounds around them would conceal any hushed conversation. Tommy’s curiosity was stronger than his willpower

“Why?”

She didn’t react at first, and Tommy thought she either didn’t listen to him, or chose to ignore him, both of which were valid. But before he could ask again, she whispered back, keeping her manly tone

“Why what?”

“Why come here? What sane person would come here, on her own free will, to be forced into coldness and starvation? Risk your life, and for what purpose? Couldn’t find good places to dig back in England?”

She snorted, the sound quite lighter than any man’s laugh, so she concealed it by clearing her throat

“I wanted to serve my country, same as you. Is there any sin on that?”

“Is that what you tell yourself at night to sleep?”

She stopped digging for a moment, leaving the pickaxe embedded in the clay. She sat in the upturned bucket they used as stool, wiping the sweat from her brow with her sleeve. She couldn’t work shirtless, and their uniforms had been made to shield from the cold only. Tommy offered her water; she drank a sip and poured the rest on her head. He noticed her hair had grown again, and curled behind her ears. He made a mental note to give her a trim after nightfall.

“I just wanted to see what it was like. What it really was. They don’t tell us the truth back home. The newspapers make it sound as if the front is almost peaceful and the men are just laying back eating turkey while the Germans fall a hundred a day. I wanted the truth, and I want to write about it. Make a book of all the lies they fed us home.”

Her reasoning didn’t sit well with him. All that effort, that trouble, that risk, just to figure out if war was as bad as she thought? Mad, mad in the head this one.

“And what does your family think you’re doing away from home?”

She scratched her chin, in the same way Tommy did when he got a shaving rash from his blunt razors. She had picked up male mannerisms quite fast, particularly his own

“Not much family left to care what I do or stop doing. I said I’d come to France to volunteer as a nurse, but they most likely think I came as a camp follower. If they knew what I’m up to, they would have me committed to the closest madhouse”

“The madhouse is where you belong” Tommy replied, albeit jokingly, as he stopped his work to pull out a cigarette from his pocket. But he was interrupted by a ball of clay being tossed at his face with masterful precision, dampened for maximum effect.

“Shut up, Sergeant Major”

Blue skies and a pleasant breeze welcomed them at the gates of Arrow House. Tommy chose to drive this time, taking the advice from the doctor who would oversee her care, who suggested she be exposed to the least amount of people possible during the first days as she adjusted to life outside. Only Tommy, Frances and the nurse who would be her primary caretaker.

She stared at the world around her with such wonder, like a blind whose sight had been restored. Every tree, every bird, the very landscape that surrounded his manor brought such wonder onto her face, like a child with a Christmas tree. Her happiness almost managed to convince him that this was, in fact, a good idea.

When Polly told him to get her out, he knew she meant to put her in a home of her own, with a caretaker, and allow her to have a life of her own. And Tommy considered the idea, for a while. To place her in a nice neighbourhood, in a house with a garden and a balcony where she could enjoy the sun, with a nurse and maids and a car. But it didn’t sit right with him. She had been alone ever since they took her. Imprisoned until the war ended, and then released only to be taken to the madhouse at first chance. Not one familiar face around her for nearly a decade. No, Tommy wouldn’t take her out of a cage just to put her back in a smaller, prettier one. She needed someone to protect her. And for better or worse, that one could only be Tommy.

When the car came to a halt, she was the first one out, gaping at the imponent state which Tommy owned.

“Is this where you live, Sergeant Major?” The wonder was palpable in her voice. But the only thing Tommy noticed was that after everything she still couldn’t find it in her to call him by his name.

“2000 acres of land, of which 12 are just garden, and 750 acres of farming land”

She cocked an eyebrow, and in the amused twinkle of her eyes Tommy saw a glimpse of the one she used to be.

“Are you a farmer now, sir?” She disguised her laugh behind the handkerchief she insisted on carrying, looking down like a bashful schoolgirl.

Tommy pulled out a cigarette; he felt the corner of his lips pulled into the shadow of a smile, pleased to see her spirits lifted.

“My business is more focused on progress and modernity, but I wouldn’t reject the idea. Perhaps one day it’ll come in hand to have crops and cows”

“That would be the bloody day” She didn’t even try to hide her laughter this time “Our mighty Sergeant Major, dressed in overalls and with mud up to his knees shovelling cow shit”

“I find myself more interested in horse shit these days. Come on, I’ll show you around”

Tommy gave her a complete tour of the house and adjacent grounds, both to show her everything that would be at her complete disposal, and also as a way to show off how far he had come since they were both in the trenches, hunched over a meagre fire lit inside an empty can and sharing a homemade cigarette made from tobacco leftovers. Her eyes were wide with wonder, her fingers running over tapestries, leathers and carved wood with childlike wonder

He saved her room for last. A wide bedroom at the very back of the house, situated in a corner with plenty of windows. It had a view of the back of the state, so she could enjoy the gardens, the horses and the surrounding woods. In the corner with the most sunlight Tommy had placed a writing desk, supplied with paper, pens, ink and a brand new typewriter. Amidst everything sat a bunch of old and worn pages, all of different sizes and materials, kept together nicely with leather cord. She picked it up gingerly, running her thumb over the first page. Even though the paper was stained and dusty, the words could be read as easily as the first day she wrote them.

Tears flooded her eyes, and she hugged the improvised diary to her chest like it was a most prized possession. And perhaps it was. She turned towards Tommy, a mixture of bewilderment and eternal gratitude plastered on her features

“Where did you get it? I thought they would have had it destroyed when they locked me up”

Tommy only smirked, pulling out a cigarette from the golden case he carried “Remember what I told you? Always make sure someone owes you something”

That gesture, so small yet so meaningful, shifted something inside her. Her eyes brimmed with tears she attempted to fight, but they won in the end. She practically jumped into Tommy’s arms, hugging him with the eagerness of a person who has been denied a caring touch for far too long.

“How will I ever be able to thank you enough, Sergeant Major?”

His free arm circled her frame, returning the gesture

“You can start by calling me Tommy”

Worry crept up Tommy’s spine as the higher ups did their rounds to inspect the work on the freshly dug trenches. It had been three days since she last showed up, and he would soon run out of lies to cover up for “Private Anders’” absence.

As much as she tried to deny it, finally the harsh conditions had caught up to her. Her health had gone down a slippery slope with the arrival of winter. First it had been just a fretless dry cough, easily softened with pine tea. But then came the bone pains, the headaches, the constant fatigue. The dampness of her safe haven had seeped into her bones and caused some sort of rheumatism. Tommy noticed the swelling of her hands as they struggled to grip the pickaxe. Her hair began to fall out in clumps.

The shivers and the fever had finally knocked her off her feet. She had been unable to leave her cottage, which in turn worsened her condition even further. Tommy had tried to bring her something more substantial to eat, but she seemed unable to eat more than a few bites of stale bread dipped in some coffee the Americans had given them. Dry, suffocating coughs racked her body until she had to gasp for air, her teeth and lips speckled with blood.

“This is the end line” She had mumbled weakly during the third night, while Tommy tried to desperately convince her to light a fire to warm and dry the place

“No. You are not going to die. I won’t allow it. I told you I’d take care of you” He stated firmly, sitting on the floor by her side with her hand in his, his other one cupping her feverish cheek. He had been in a similar spot, not too long ago. Watching life fade away from a young woman’s eyes. He refused to let her die, not like that, not there where he would have to dump her body in the river.

“I am not going to die” She stated with a conviction her current condition didn’t match “But to survive, I have to turn myself in”

The idea of handing her over to the war office filled Tommy with panic

“No, no you cannot do that. Do you have any idea what they could do to you? Your best prospect would be to be thrown in jail, to be given 10 years for impersonating a soldier. And that’s if the higher ups are feeling compassionate” He shuddered at thinking what those wolves would do to her “Listen, I get leave tomorrow night. I’ll go to the nearest town, get some medicine, maybe I can pawn some things and get you a new blanket. You-”

“No” With great effort, she propped herself up in one elbow. Tommy couldn’t help but notice the strands of hair left in the pillow “I’ve implicated you long enough. The excuses and lies you have made for me are enough to have you dishonourably discharged and tried. You have done everything you could for me, and for that I am forever indebted to you, Sergeant Major. This next chapter in my life, I have to write it alone”

She sounded dejected and disappointed, as if she had failed some unwritten expectation of her adventure. But Tommy thought quite the opposite. He only felt admiration for the things she had put herself through in order to tell her story. He still thought she was mad in the head, but in a completely different way

“Will you mention my name when you write your book?” He asked jokingly, helping her lay back down slowly, pulling the ragged blanket up to her chin

“Only if you want to be jailed next to me for helping an intruder” She laughed, but the sound was cut short by another fit of coughing “I’ll dedicate it to you, Sergeant Major. Everything I write and do will be because of you”

Tommy awoke with a startle. His eyes were wide open, darting around the room as he tried to locate the source of the disturbance. Everything seemed to be calm in his room. And then it happened again. A dry thud in the wall, followed by a muffled scream.

In a heartbeat he was out of bed, gun in hand. He followed the noises, which seemed to grow louder the closer he got to her bedroom. The door was ajar, allowing a sliver of moonlight to project in the floor, in which Tommy could see two shadows moving.

He stormed inside, gun ready to fire. But he didn’t find an intruder, no. Just her, on her knees, banging her fists against the wall as she screamed. Her nurse stood by her side, amidst a disaster of clothes and books and other objects, unsuccessfully trying to coax her back to bed

“Miss, please. The hour is quite late. You need sleep”

“No, no. The walls are coming down. We have to get out, the roof’s collapsing!” She yelled desperately, clawing at the wall trying to dig herself out of some dark place that only existed in her head. He saw her nails tear the wallpaper with ferocity. And then he noticed the nurse unlocking a cabinet and pulling out a syringe

“No” He said almost immediately as he put a firm hand on the nurse’s arm “Go to bed. I have this”

“But Mr. Shelby!”

“I said go. Leave me with her”

The nurse doubted, holding his gaze, but chose to exit the room, closing the door behind her.

Tommy walked towards her slowly, afraid he would startle her. He gingerly touched her arm, but his presence went as unnoticed as a speck of dust. He called out her name, again and again, without success. The mud had seeped deep in her brain, as it had done his, and blocked her senses from the outside world. In order to get through, Tommy had to get into the mud with her

He stood tall, in martial position, hands behind his back

“Private Anders!”

Quick like a lightning bolt, she stood up and saluted in a firm position. Tears streaked her face and her entire body quivered like an autumn leaf

“Sergeant Major sir!”

“At ease, private. You are relieved of your duties. Time to go back home”

Like the lifting of a spell, her eyes glossed over as she blinked slowly, looking around her from the bed, to the things she had thrown around in haste, and finally towards Tommy. Her lower lip quivered

“What is happening to me?”

Her knees faltered. Tommy lunged forward before she could hit herself, coming down to the floor with her held in his arms. She burrowed herself in his chest, her fingers clinging to his shirt as she wept, her body racked by sobs. Tommy shushed her quietly, his fingers carding through her hair

“Don’t cry. I’ll take care of you”

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby one shot #marsie writes #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine

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jaytimweek · 7 months

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Announcing JayTim Week 2024!

Do you love JayTim? Do you also enjoy word play? Puns? Crying in frustration because English has way too many words that are spelled exactly the same but mean different things? Then we have an event for you!

Welcome to JayTim Week 2024: Double Entendres!

This year, the event will run from June 23 to June 29. To shake things up a little bit, instead of asking for submissions, the mods have carefully curated a list of words that have all sorts of meanings, depending on the way you read them.

You can use any single meaning in your work(s) or, if you're feeling inspired, as many as you think you can fit! As the creator, it's entirely up to you how much or little you want to play on words.

Without further ado, here are our prompts:

Day One: Bat / Duck / Wing

Day Two: Dawn / Space / Star

Day Three: Fire / Pine / Fall

Day Four: Free Day

Day Five: Rock / Cave / Mount

Day Six: Bark / Sap / Wood

Day Seven: Drop / Seal / Wave

We hope you'll find them as inspiring as we did when we picked them!

We have prepared a little FAQ, for new participants as well as veterans. If you have any questions, please take a look to see if the answers are in there. If they aren't, please don't hesitate to reach out to us via our Ask Box!

Have fun creating! We look forward to seeing what everyone comes up with!

#jaytimweek #jaytimweek2024 #jason todd #tim drake #jaytim

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literaryvein-reblogs · 24 days

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Word List: Eye

beautiful words with "eye" to try to include in your poem/story

Bird's-eye - any of numerous plants with small bright-colored flowers; an allover pattern for textiles consisting of a small diamond with a center dot; having or involving a bird's-eye view

Deadeye - a rounded wood block encircled by a rope or an iron band and having holes to receive the lanyard that is used especially to set up shrouds and stays; an unerring marksman

Eye-beam - archaic: a radiant glance of the eye

Eye-opener - a drink intended to wake one up; something startling, surprising, or enlightening

Eyeable - archaic: that may be seen; visually attractive

Eyeberry - partridgeberry; wintergreen

Eyebright - any of a genus (Euphrasia) of semiparasitic herbs of the snapdragon family with spikelike racemes

Eyecup - a small oval cup with a rim curved to fit the orbit of the eye used for applying liquid remedies to the eyes

Eyedness - preference for the use of one eye instead of the other (as in using a monocular microscope)

Eyeful - a full or completely satisfying view; one that is visually attractive

Eyelet - a small hole designed to receive a cord or used for decoration (as in embroidery); peephole, loophole

Eyen - archaic plural of eye

Eyeroot - goldenseal (i.e., a perennial North American herb (Hydrastis canadensis) of the buttercup family with large leaves and a thick knotted yellow rhizome sometimes used medicinally)

Eyeshade - a visor that shields the eyes from strong light and is fastened on with a headband

Eyeshine - reflection of light from the inner surface of an eye through the pupil so that the eye has a luminous appearance (as in a cat)

Eyespot - a usually small spot of color (as on the wing of a butterfly) that resembles an eye

Eyestalk - one of the movable peduncles bearing an eye at the tip in a decapod crustacean

Eyestrain - weariness or a strained state of the eye

Eyestrings - obsolete: organic eye attachments formerly believed to break at death or blindness

Eyetooth - a canine tooth of the upper jaw

Eyewash - an eye lotion; misleading or deceptive statements, actions, or procedures

Eyewater - archaic: tears; aqueous humor

Eyewink - look, glance

Fish-eye - being, having, or produced by a wide-angle photographic lens that has a highly curved protruding front, that covers an angle of about 180 degrees, and that gives a circular image

Goldeneye - either of two diving ducks (genus Bucephala) with small yellow eyes; especially: a large-headed swift-flying Holarctic diving duck (B. clangula) with the male having a green head and striking black-and-white markings

Hawkeyed - having keen sight

Mooneye - a silvery North American freshwater bony fish (Hiodon tergisus of the family Hiodontidae)

Oxeye - any of several composite plants (as of the genera Chrysanthemum or Heliopsis) having heads with both disk and ray flowers

Shut-eye - sleep

Tigereye - a usually yellowish to brown chatoyant stone that consists of silicified crocidolite and is much used for ornament

Walleye - an eye with a whitish or bluish-white iris

If any of these words inspire your writing, do tag me or send me a link. I'd love to read your work!

More: Word Lists

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ravencincaide · 7 months

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Precious flowers get picked first

Summary: Being in charge was not an easy feat for Chuuya especially when his subordinates reached a new level of failure. A mission a glorified monkey would be able to accomplish. Yet here they were, humiliated in front of the entire Yokohama by a little brat. Still if you kept up with that attitude then Chuuya would just have to make the move himself. Before anyone else managed to pluck his flower from him.

Pairing: Ability user fem!reader x Boss Chuuya!

Inspired request from anon: “Placed in a universe where Chuuya is the port mafia's boss and the reader is someone who made a mistake and caught the eye of the port mafia. Maybe they got involved with some mess and ended up being a port mafia's target?”

Warnings: Cursing, blood, an intrigued, possessive and annoyed Chuuya

Enjoy~

“ So let me get this straight” the executives words were spoken slowly, condescendingly, as if addressed to a child or a barely competent idiot who sputtered pure gibberish “- you butchered the fuckin’ mission; got your asses kicked, pick pocketed and left naked at the bank of Yokohama river to waddle all the way to the base by a fucking brat?!”

Chuuya’s piercing eyes studied the dozen men in his office. He ran his gaze over each and every one of them; their blank faces, fear filled eyes and a slight shift in their body language that loudly screamed ‘failure’. The disheveled appearance of the more experienced members and the fish-out-of-water expressions from the new recruits only added to the awkward atmosphere. They all looked like they would have preferred anything- even death- to the predicament of delivering such a humiliating report, in person, to their boss. To stare Chuuya in the face and admit that they not only failed in their assignment but did so in the most shameful fashion- a disgrace so spectacular that death was the least of their worries. In fact they all looked like they would have preferred the encounter with the grim reaper instead of this.

For a second, Chuuya shared that sentiment. Frustrated sigh escaped his lips; a gloved hand reached up and pressed against the bridge of his nose between his eyes in a futile attempt to combat the oncoming headache at the realization that he had yet another mess to clean up. Why bother with subordinates if they were this fucking incompetent? Why be a boss if he spent more time in the field than ever before?

Fucking morons.

Chuuya’s free hand rested on his desk, a nervous finger tapped away against the mahogany wood right beside his top hat, a freshly poured and forgotten glass of wine and an unlit cigarette propped up against the ashtray. A ritual to mourn the lost. The initial plan was the lost comrades- now he had the mafia’s tarnished reputation to lament for. An incident that would make Port Mafia the laughing stock of the entire district; an invitation for other organizations to challenge them. To challenge the current world order, the long since established status-quo.

“..A girl”

Chuuya’s eyes instantly shifted to the youngest recruit who’s pitiful voice echoed around the office. The man ducked his head; finding the carpet-clad floor uncharacteristically interesting as he repeated himself an octave louder “ It was a girl”

“ So you had the fucking time to check the brat out instead of roundin’ her up?”

Several men flickered their gazes between each other; the closest to a lewd grin they’d dare express in front of their boss. It was as if they took Chuuya’s question as an invitation to share their observation- perhaps if they appealed to the man rather than the boss then their punishment would decrease from certain murder to manageable- albeit torturous existence.

“ Well she was really pretty, like a serene pretty and her voice was-—” Chuuya’s fist made contact with the table; the crack of protest from the splintered wood- like the fracture of bones- silenced the office. The red power surrounded him like an ominous warning; it dared the next person to open their fucking mouth, and become very acquainted with gravity.

“ A little girl beat a dozen mafia and you’re fucking raving about her appearance? Get out of my sight before you regret it” Chuuya’s voice was a dangerous hiss that came out in between deep breaths. When none of the men moved he launched an ashtrash at their heads; the heavy glass hitting the youngest subordinates in the forehead. It split the skull in half, spilled its dark red insides all over the boy's face and Chuuya’s office. Not sufficiently to kill but damned near close.

The final warning.

A warning no one questioned as the men shuffled out of the office; some of them lingered just long enough to gasp out an apology and a ‘thank you’ for his mercy. A sharp look made them rush out and shut the door firmly behind themselves. It left Chuuya in dead silence for once during this entire damned day. Surely no one would be stupid enough to disturb him more on this godforsaken night.

Chuuya took several calm breaths. Regained his composure, calmed the spiraled bloodlust into a manageable humm in the back of his skull. Then he stood up from his desk and made sure to take the glass of wine with him. He took a sip of it, the sweetness of it shifted the murderous bloodlust into a different emotion- a different type of lust. For a moment Chuuya lingered by his desk, torn between going back to the icy luxurious apartment in the city or to remain in the stuffy spare room of his office. He glanced at the paperwork; eyes lingered on the late evening newspapers that depicted his underlings humiliation.

Then he groaned audibly.

He would need to gather his executives first thing tomorrow. Silence the publicist- deal with anyone who dared question Port Mafia's authority. Sign new deals; shut Dazai the fuck up before the damage could spread to irreversible proportions.

With quick steps Chuuya headed towards the door in the corner of his office partially hidden by a dark curtain. Past it was a simple room with a bed, a dresser and another door which led towards the bathroom with a shower. He walked past those and towards the tiny glass table with a lamp in the corner by the only window. He flickered it on. The lamp flared and lit up, the strong rays chased back the darkness of the room. In doing so, it illuminated a handful of pictures on the wall.

Your pictures.

The ones stolen from city archives- copied from security cameras. Most were fuzzy with the exception of the largest one in the middle which he had stolen- purchased- from your old family photographer. A picture unfitting the family album- or engagement-proposal photo. It was most certainly Chuuya favorite. This was the one where you showed your true character. Large curious eyes half lidded in boredom behind long lashes, lips pulled up into a displeased frown and arms stubbornly crossed over your chest. A huge red flower in your hair, just barely held in place with hair pins.

“ You’re losing your touch, flower” Chuuya murmured as he stared at your picture. “Such a mistake to be seen; so careless. Tsk tsk tsk”

A twirl of his wine, its sweet aroma filled Chuuya’s senses. He took a sip of it- salvaged it in the moments it took to walk up to your picture. A gloved finger trailed out your features; from your hair, to the outline of your face, over your neck then up to the frown on your lips. He ran his thumb over them, as if to brush out the sullen look. His own lips itched up into a humorless smile.

“ hmm m’precious, keep showing off, keep being a such stubborn naughty girl and I might just need to fetch you myself” Chuuya’s grip tightened over the photograph, scrunched it in between his fingertips as his expression twisted into something obsessively morbid. Indeed you, alive and in front of him, would be magnificently better than a mere photograph. A precious little flower who would not escape his grasp; a pretty flower he would not let others- let any other man- touch ever again.

After all, Chuuya was the boss of the strongest underground organization, the leader of Port Mafia. And what kind of boss would he be if he let someone else pick his precious flower first?

Author Note: Finally this fic is out! It took me longer than I wanted it to and I hope this piece fulfilled the anon's request (if you're still around of course! So so sorry it took me so long!).

And for the rest of my gorgeous reader I hoped it peeked your interest enough that you'd wanna read a (possible) part two ;)

Liked this fic and want more? check out Raven's masterlist!

©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

#raven cincaide's ask #raven cincade's works #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x yn #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya boss #chuuuya x fem!reader #slight yandere

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beethovenus · 8 months

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TS!UNDERSWAP Dev Diary: Koffin-K Party Member

The area progression for Starlight Isles was much different during the initial concept stages than what was finalized. Originally, you would defeat Crossbones in the village -- and if spared, the two of you would team up against Koffin-K, infiltrating his base of operations.

With this idea, Crossbones would have been a party member -- except he would have been completely useless, and serving purely as comic relief. In battles with Koffin-K's minions, he would have done nothing besides crack jokes.

This would have gone on briefly until the two of you got separated. You would have discovered that Koffin-K (who used to have hypnosis magic) would have "hypnotized" Crossbones, with him becoming the supervillain minion "Mr. S" (inspired by Mr. L from Super Paper Mario.)

(These are the only sprites I could find.)

Some of the finer details are missing -- either you would have "snapped him out of it," or he wasn't actually hypnotized the whole time, just messing with you both.

Eventually, you and the non-hypnotized Crossbones would corner Koffin-K together -- and in a last-ditch effort, Koffin-K would try hypnotizing Crossbones a second time. This time, it'd be complete with a whole transformation into a Darkwing Duck-esque design, with Crossbones wearing Koffin-K. Sadly, I wasn't able to find these sprites.

The Koffin-K battle would have been with a "hypnotized Crossbones" wearing Koffin-K. At the end, Crossbones would reveal that he was never actually hypnotized, and just messing with you both. Koffin-K would have figured that this meant he could only control bats.

Suffice to say, this was a LOT in terms of scope -- an entire major area devoted to Koffin-K with multiple sections, minion battles, and an entire "hypnotized Crossbones" antagonist plot. This just wasn't going to be feasible in the long term, and would be going way too overboard in terms of original content versus the rest of the game.

We ended up making the following simplifications:

"Koffin-K Island" was reworked to "Koffin Keep," and made a smaller, self-contained, nonlinear area -- as opposed to a larger linear area.

Koffin Keep was placed between Stardust Woods and Starstruck Village to better integrate it within the overall area progression, and make it less of an afterthought or something "tacked on."

Koffin-K having hypnosis magic was scrapped, as was "antagonist Crossbones," because it made no sense.

The "useless party member" role was given to Koffin-K -- with Chara wearing him to conceal his presence during the festival, and giving him a great deal of unique interactions and cutscenes / cutscene variants.

It's sad we ended up having to scrap some of these ideas, but ultimately I'm really happy with what we accomplished with Koffin Keep -- laying a lot more into a Saturday morning cartoon villain feeling than a more serious superhero/supervillain conflict.

#beeth says #ts!underswap #undertale fangame #cut content

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stone-stars · 1 month

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Transcript:

Callie (Emily): I should've known. "Glenfyr Gladewyn." It's like, too perfect. Bumpy (Murph): Yea-- It's like a glen, and he's also in the woods. Sol (Caldwell): Yeah, it's like the shoulders of a name. Calder (Jake): Yeah. But-- The thing is everything about him is perfect, though, so why wouldn't the name be. Callie: Yeah. I know. I know. I know. Calder: Like it worked. Bumpy: Right. Yeah. Sol: He must have a team, like, workshopping all this, right? Bumpy: Yeah, 'cause it's like-- a forest, be afraid of it, 'cause I do weird stuff in the forest, and also, I'm in the forest and I'm gonna win. Like that's-- come on. Come on now. [Duck Team chorus "yeah"s as he speaks.] Bumpy: Who writes this stuff? (laughs) [Caldwell laughs.] Calder: It's brilliant! Callie: Whoever writes it? Oh, man! [Everyone laughs.] Calder: Right! Glen is hot, but the writer? Callie: Yumm-my! Tasty little snack! Murph: Everyone gets inspiration? [Caldwell cheers and the others laugh.]

#naddpod #ba2mia #c3e22 #who does write these things huh #some guy named braden or smthn #naddclips

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eruden-writes · 4 months

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Choosing the Bear - Part 2 (Shifter x Human)

Inspired by the Man or Bear in the Woods question/meme.

First Part

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Mercy’s father, Zeke Clements, was a man about two years older than Bambi, though they’d been a part of the same graduating class. He’d been held back once in seventh grade and once in ninth grade, from what she remembered. If she recalled correctly, both times was due to the amount of fights he got into. Though she thought it had more to do with who he fought – the privileged peers and the sports stars – that had gotten him held back those particular years.

Before Bambi could say anything else, Mercy jumped between her and the bear, her arms outstretched as if to shield the creature from the woman.

“Please, don’t say anything, Mizz Bambi! He’s not a devil or a monster or anything like that, I swear!” Mercy blinked rapidly, her eyes glassy under the moonlight. She sniffed loudly, her bottom lip wobbling as she added, “Please! He’s all I got!”

Silence fell between Mercy and Bambi as the latter glanced at the bear. It hunkered down, pained tension wrought along its furry form.

“If that bear is your dad, can’t he just…” Bambi waved a hand, trying to find the right words as both the girl and bear stared at her. “Can’t he turn back into a human?”

“If he shifts back, the bullet might go somewhere vital if it didn’t go clean through,” Mercy sniffed once more as she explained, unshed tears making her voice tremble. Bambi frowned, realizing the girl must have been told or experienced this happening before to have such an answer at the ready. A twinge of guilt flickered through Bambi, recalling how the girl said Zeke was all she had.

The exhausting night was beginning to catch up to Bambi. From being kidnapped to escaping Duke to now. Everything felt unreal and that made a precursor of a headache throb at her temples. Pinching at her nose, Bambi sighed and tried to decide what to do.

What would she do if it was normal for people to shift into animals? To believe humans turned into furry brethren? Would she let a child inspect her father’s gunshot wound?

No, she would not.

With a sigh, Bambi’s hand lowered as she inclined her head to Mercy. “If your dad is okay with it, I’ll take a look at it?”

The bear – Zeke, Bambi reminded herself despite the surrealness of the thought – gave what sounded like a grudging grunt, to which Mercy translated, “He says fine.”

Bambi swallowed as the hulking behemoth turned toward her, still on its – his – rear legs. She took an awkward step closer, as if testing to see if he was simply trying to trick her. When the bear held still, she closed the distance further. Red stained and matted the white fur on his side, under the arm that had struck out at Duke. The coppery tang of blood thickened the closer she got to Zeke, mingling with a sweet woodsy musk.

“I’m going to check to see if it went through, alright?” Bambi heard herself say as she reached and grabbed the bear’s right arm, making certain it stayed aloft as she moved around its side. Her fingers deftly felt through its fur, against its side, tracking bullet and shrapnel. Beneath her touch, the bear’s muscles felt tense and she worried he was in far more pain than he let on.

Her concern flared when she realized there was no exit wound.

“Well, shit. It didn’t go through. We’ll have to dig the fragments out, unless you got a medicine man you’d rather go to?” Bambi peered around the bear’s arm, eyebrow quirking. “Or maybe you prefer a vet?”

The bear gave a disgruntled snort, pressing their held-aloft arm down against Bambi as if to squish her down. The motion was a familiar one, she realized, as memories of a more human-looking Zeke playfully using shorter peers as armrests flickered in her thoughts.

Bambi scoffed, ducking away from bear Zeke’s arm to turn to Mercy. “Is your home close to here?”

“It’s a ways off…” The girl’s worried gaze flicked from the woman to her bear father.

Undeterred, Bambi’s mind traipsed to the next possible solution. “Do you have a first aid kit in your pack?”

Mercy brightened up and nodded as she swung her backpack off her shoulder, quickly rummaging through it. Soon, she procured a kit, which Bambi soon realized was a typical Hartwell hodgepodge of first aid supplies and more. Thankfully, there was a headlamp, alcohol wipes, gloves, tweezers, and – if things got rough in cleaning the wound – a pocketknife.

It took some positioning, but soon Bambi was standing beside a seated white bear, headlamp strapped to her head and bright light pouring over the wound. Mercy lingered at the edges of Bambi’s vision, but she didn’t have the heart to tell the girl to back off further. She had a right to be nervous.

Under the headlamp, the red blood stood out in stark contrast to the white fur. Despite years of handling her own children’s boo-boos and even some of Duke’s own ill-though injuries, Bambi’s stomach churned lightly. Steeling herself, she snapped a pair of gloves onto her hands and began working – as gently as possible – with the tweezers.

“Looks like you packed on some pounds since high school, Zeke,” Bambi heard herself say, more to distract herself than the bear flinching under her penetrating tweezers.

He growled in response, though that may have been because a particularly large shard of bullet had come free with a squelch.

“Mhmn, well, parenthood will do that to you. I got two of my own, and I’m sure that shows,” Bambi laughed, patting the curve of her side with the less bloodied glove, illustrating how much softer and squishier she had become since high school. “I suppose Mercy has told you about Casey, though.”

The two girls hung out a lot and Bambi had hosted a number of sleepovers that Mercy, along with other girls, attended. Though Mercy’s own home had been oddly off-limits for hangouts. Bambi supposed she could guess why that was, after seeing Zeke like this.

A gnarl of a grumble was Zeke’s response, to which Bambi couldn’t begin to parse.

“Mercy’s always a joy to have ‘round. She’s sweet and well-mannered. Well, as well-mannered as kids can be,” she continued on, undeterred by the conversationally-stilted partner. She’d had plenty of years navigating single-sided conversations with Duke. “She’s been raised well.”

Something in Zeke’s body language softened, or so Bambi thought. There was no time to dwell on the realization as her medical auto-pilot trudged forward, “I’m not finding anything else, so I’m going to use the alcohol wipes now. Might sting some.”

And once again, the bear tensed as Bambi brushed the wipes over the wound. Her gaze angled up to his maw, watching how he clenched his teeth. A slight expulsion of air hissed between his fearsome sharp canines. Guilt swam up Bambi’s thoughts, but she had little change to apologize when Mercy popped up at her elbow. “Is he gonna be okay, Mizz Bambi?”

“I think so. I think I cleaned out all the bullet bits and sanitized it the best I can with what’s here,” she answered as she pressed her hand to the bear’s side, trying to feel if here were any errant shards left. For the first time, Bambi tilted her head full up toward the bear. “How do you feel?”

It was strange to be asking a polar bear such a question. Just looking at the furry head with its dark eyes and dark nose, knowing the heft and weight of its arm alone, she couldn’t believe he wasn’t just a bear. But there was something else there in its eyes, she thought. A more familiar understanding as it cocked its head, the round ears twitching a little straighter.

Letting out a low chesty huff, the bear shifted slightly, as if testing a strained muscle. He made another sound to which Mercy piped up with concern, “You sure?”

There was another chesty rumble before the bear melted in front of Bambi’s eyes. Though melt was, perhaps, too much. The bear shrank, muscles compacted and bones shifted. A sound unlike anything Bambi could described paired with the change.

With wide eyes, Bambi watched as fur crept to a more human formation; a scattering of hair across dark muscular arms and a barrel chest, then a trail of hair that dived down a rounded plush abdomen and dipped somewhere Bambi’s eyes shouldn’t linger. But getting into trouble was a bad habit and old habits die hard.

“You’re naked,” Bambi gasped, jerking her eyes away from the nude male specimen in front of her.

“You ‘n I both know you ain’t no innocent, Bambi Barker,” rasped Zeke, his voice as deep and full of gravel as she remembered. She leveled a glare on the man, but he cocked his head and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “I sure hope you ain’t still Missus Walker.”

“Bite your tongue, Zeke Clements! It’s been Barker for a couple of years now. You should know that. The town hasn’t grown that big.” The fact Duke had been chasing her through the woods with a shot gun should have been another hint, but she set that aside for the moment.

Bambi faintly realized Zeke had a thick curly beard – something she had missed when staring at the rest of him, she realized – which made the flush on her cheeks tingle with more than annoyance. The hair on his head was also white, like his body hair, she noticed.

Her eyes followed the bounce of his textured curls, now an enticing voluminous mass that haloed around his head and fell down the back of his shoulders. In high school, he’d kept his hair relatively short. Not so short she wasn’t familiar with his curls, but definitely shorter than he now wore. Students of color had always been hit with dress code violations for their hair, she recalled.

Mercy trotted over to a tree, where a backpack Bambi had not previously noticed sat. Grabbing the pack, Mercy shoved it at her dad and shot him a peeved look. He held the bag in front of himself, offering some blessed level of censor as he pulled out clothes. “I keep to myself these days.”

“I suppose that’s easy if you hibernate most the winter,” mused Bambi as she turned off the headlamp and leaned against a tree. She watched as he pulled on a pair of jeans, catching sight of his bullet wound. Amazingly, despite shrinking from bear to human, the injury didn’t look terrible. In fact, if Bambi didn’t know better, she would have thought he was shot a few days ago, rather than less than an hour ago.

Could he heal quicker than humans? Wasn’t that a trait in werewolves or something?

As Bambi wondered about the mechanics of lycanthropy to – what would it be called for a bear shifter? ursathropy? – she missed a muscle ticking in Zeke’s jaw. “Mercy, you should go back to the truck.”

Focusing back in on the other two, Bambi noticed Mercy seemed about ready to argue, but Zeke’s cross expression and his glare made her shoulders slump. Without another word, she stomped back through the forest the way she came, her own pack once again hanging from her shoulders.

Quietly, Bambi watched as the girl retreated, hoping she didn’t have far to go in the dark. Although, that made Bambi wonder if Mercy inherited any of Zeke’s furry genes, if that was what it was, and if she happened to see better in the dark than her own peers. Faintly, she tried to file through her memories of the girl, but nothing odd seemed to jump out.

Instead of trawling through memories, Bambi turned her attention back to Zeke. “Why’d you send her away?”

“Because we need to discuss a few things,” he replied, turning fully toward her after watching his daughter disappear through the trees. He crossed his arms over his chest, muscles flexing along his shoulders as he leered down at Bambi.

For a brief second, she realized she was alone with a man who could turn into a bear. Staring up at Zeke, still a behemoth as a human though smaller than the bear he had been, Bambi realized not an ounce of fear stirred in her chest. All she could see was the young man he’d been in high school. Hot-headed, oddly sweet, gruff.

It was probably exhaustion, she thought. She wasn’t afraid because she was just bone tired. Also, she was fighting against the shock and surreality of everything that had happened over the last few hours. From Duke’s harebrained scheme to the revelation about Zeke.

Yeah, that had to be it, she decided, as she stared silently up at the intimidating man.

#exophilia #exo writing #bear shifter #shifter #monster x human #monster romance #shifter romance #paranormal romance #paranormal #bear or man #i choose the bear #man or bear #zeke #bambi #“you ain't no innocent bambi barker”#sir your child is right there watch your mouth #lol

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