#or rather part of the outline grew longer

[oharabunny]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Say That You Love Me

Warning: soft yandere and caretaker!Miguel; some controlling behavior; shy, fem!afab!, lonely and socially awkward, inexperienced reader; relationship is not established yet; dark content if you squint; also implied chubby reader; fluff (ish); smut; not beta read

⋆✮↪ based on my nonlinear yandere Miguel series ₊˚⊹♡

You always gave people the benefit of the doubt, or rather, no matter how wrong people treated you, you gave them a pass, as long as they were dubious and vague enough with you so that you never questioned their sincerity. You were lonely to say the least and grew up alone, so you accepted whatever came your way, and worked hard to keep your ‘friends’ around since you were socially awkward. 

Of course, over time you learned to filter out the good and the bad, but the elephant in the room never went away.

Living with Miguel had its perks. You could do whatever you want, as long as you never try to escape. You once had a reason to leave, but you had no place and no family to go back to. Your universe was also gone for good (or so Miguel says). 

For the most part, you generally listen to him and do as he says. It’s for your own good he’d always say.  

You were beginning to wonder if he had romantic feelings for you. Aside from his weird obsession of taking care of you, he didn’t make any moves on you, up until recently. Perhaps you always had an innate attraction towards him, like, he was built like a Greek god, for multiverse’s sake. His face card was serving. He could get any girl he wanted, so you had always assumed he had no sexual attraction towards you. Just that, he had this self-proclaimed obligation to be your caretaker.

One day he suggested to sleep together since sleeping on the couch was becoming too uncomfortable for him. It was a one bedroom apartment, so it wasn’t like there was a spare bedroom for him to sleep separately in. (Something you appreciated despite trying to argue with him to take his room back, but he vehemently refused for your sake.) 

You didn’t think much of it, at first, since you had experience with sleeping with the opposite gender nonsexually. You were right to think nothing much of it for the first few minutes since he was turned away from you. That is…until he fell asleep. (You tend to take a lot longer to fall asleep than him, so you were able to observe his unconscious form.)

And his first instinct was to cage you in his thick, beefy arms. 

Miguel drew you into his chest as if he was snuggling a childhood ragdoll. He rubbed your smaller fingers in between his own, inhaled the scent of your shampoo in your hair, all the while his long and much larger legs than yours locked you into his body. He was completely smothering you. 

Your own body was heating up like a kettle on a stove. He was only in his boxers, and you can feel his cock outline through his boxers on your butt. Was he getting hard too? 

You didn’t dare move because you wanted to stay like this for as long as he could. If he didn’t have any attraction towards you, this was as close as you were going to get.

Now every night going forth, he cuddled you in his sleep. He got bolder eventually and simply cuddled with you as soon as he got to bed. 

You were surprised one night when he asked to kiss you. Up until this point, he had only cuddled with you, but never dared to be even more intimate. He’d usually at most rub and squeeze your tummy while he was asleep which made you self conscious. You never bat his hand away though.

So when he asked you for a kiss, your brain was like a train that braked too quickly and flew off the rails. You hadn’t realized you didn’t react nor answer him until he said, “Nevermind.”

You immediately reached for him to say, “N-No wait! I do, I…do want you to kiss me.” As you finished your sentence, your eye contact left him, in embarrassment. You basically admitted that you were attracted to him by reciprocating, and you didn’t know how to deal with that. Would he laugh at you? Would he play those kinds of games with you?

He could see you overthinking and feeling conflicted. He took your chin and tilted your gaze back up to him. “Then, look at me.”

And you do.

Everything came to a stop when his lips met yours. All your thoughts and worries melted away. His lips were just so perfect. You couldn’t remember the last time you were kissed, especially in this way. He pressed your body into his as he cupped your neck so you couldn’t escape out of his hold. He gently prodded your lips to enter with his tongue, and you had instinctively let him in. His tongue battled with yours and you willfully lost against him. He explored your mouth as if he was burning every inch and corner of your mouth into his mind. A level of desperation that you could feel from his touch growing more and more intensely. 

He rolled over on top of you and broke the kiss. You would’ve whined but he quickly satiated by peppering kisses all over your face before finally landing a final one on your nose. From there, he just admired your face while he stroked your hair. You couldn’t maintain eye contact from his face being so up close to yours, and tried to hide your face as your self consciousness crept back in. You hated how your face looked when you laid down. 

“Hey hey hey, don’t look away.” Miguel lightly tapped your face. You could barely look back at him as he shifted his weight because you could feel his hard cock on rubbing on your thighs. His handsome face in such close proximity to yours made your mind do flips. “And don’t forget to breathe.” 

How could you breathe when the hottest person you’ve ever seen in your life is all over you?

You were taking shallow breaths which isn’t what Miguel wanted so he squeezed your tummy and tickled your sides. “Waitwaitwaitstop!!” You couldn’t help but laugh and push him off.

Your laugh was like a song to his ear. Miguel kept tickling you as he buried his face into your neck and nipped on your skin. He kissed and drew up your jawline as he stopped his tickling so he could capture your lips once more. 

“Breathe.” He said in between kisses. He squeezes your sides when you still didn’t listen. 

Your breath staggered from the laughter and steaminess of the kisses. He smirked at your inexperience and sensitivity. You were just so cute to him when you were overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Miguel licked your lips and planted a final kiss before tightly holding you like a ragdoll again. He laid on his back this time and you were on top of him. The weight of his arms kept you in your place, especially when his hand was placed on top of your head while you lay on his chest. You could hear the sound of his heartbeat.

Now, every night whenever he came home, he kissed you fervently as he cuddled with you to sleep.

“YOU WANT ME TO WHAT-?!”

You had been extremely lonely the past couple weeks since Miguel had gone to another dimension to catch a difficult anomaly. As established, you were not allowed to go outside. You did think to ask him if you could invite some of your Spider friends you befriended during the short period you stayed at HQ, but he refused, and seemed angry at the notion of you hanging out with them. 

Instead you begged and begged him to at least let you access Discord or some kind of social media to talk to someone, other than Lyla (no offense to her), especially for your special interests. 

At first Miguel was hesitant, but eventually went on board with it when considering your mental wellbeing. You had never done anything to betray his trust.

“I don’t want you spending any more time talking to them anymore. I shouldn’t have to compete for your attention.” Miguel stated flatly as he possessively held you in his arms in bed. He took your phone from your hand and placed it on the nightstand away from you. 

“But that shouldn’t be the only reason why you want to impregnate me…” You backed up against him to get away from his hand that was stroking your tummy. A habit he kept up since sleeping in the same bed with you for the first time. If anything, your tummy was treated like a stress ball. (Sometimes he’ll also grab at your love handles, your ass, your thighs, and anywhere that’s fleshy.)

“It’s not.” Miguel’s hand lowered his hand and flicked the elastic of your shorts. 

Your heart skipped a beat at his implication. You two hadn’t actually had sex yet despite all the sexual tension. Perhaps he wanted to wait till you were ready, or maybe he saw it as a means to procreate. 

He slid his hand under your shorts and panties to your freshly shaven pussy (he shaved it for you 😥) and rubbed circles on your clit. You immediately locked your legs together and grabbed onto his arm to hold on. Your puffy pussy hid your clit, but his middle finger pushed through and found her. Your breath hitched. He didn’t stop when you gripped harder, if anything he rubbed faster and faster. You kept wriggling and squirming back, but his chest was a wall and you had nowhere to escape. Your ass pressed up against his clothed cock that sat neatly between your cheeks. 

You screamed. He was directly on your clit applying hard pressure. Not even you would touch it bare. You squirted all over his hand quickly and he slowed his pace, but didn’t stop, to help you ride out your orgasm. You huffed and puffed. His hand rubbed a stripe over your entire pussy to draw out the slick so that he could lick and drink it off of his fingers. You looked back at him as he was savoring your taste, and you couldn’t help quivering at the sight of that.

Wordlessly, he shifted himself so he was on top of you and you reached out to halt him in place. “Wait, can we please talk about this?”

He raised a brow as if you just confused him. “What is there to talk about?” 

You sat up with your knees to your chest, nervous for what you were about to ask, “Why do you actually want a baby? Why me? And it’s going to be a huge responsibility, and I’m not sure I’m ready for it. I…I also want to figure out my own life too.”

He moved closed and placed his warm hands on your knees. “It has to be you. We are meant to be together. You have such a kind and gentle soul; you’d make a great mother.” He paused, “And you don’t have to worry about a thing, your husband will take care of you for the rest of your life.”

“Wha-?” You were cut off when he crashed his lips to silence you. He pulled you down from where you sat and swiftly pulled your shorts and panties down in one fell swoop. He gives your clit a good rub before he leaned back to take his boxers off. 

You stared at his rock hard cock, finally in full view. His size was never something you ever had before. Hell, you couldn’t even fit a regular sized dildo up inside. “I can’t fit that…”

“We can make it work. Don’t worry, just leave it all to me.” Miguel cooed and stroked his length against your slick brushing your clit along with the way. Your hole tightened from the sensation. “Remember to relax and breathe, bebita.”

Slowly, he pushed inside your fluttering hole. You hissed at the stretch. The pain was quickly replaced with pleasure when his thumb rubbed over your clit. When he saw your face relaxing, he pushed deeper until he bottomed out. You placed your hand over your pelvic region and felt his bulge. 

“Mmm, you like that?” He groaned as he began to pull out slowly. You instantly moaned and nodded to that. Something about him pulling out his big hard cock dragging your walls out was tipping you over the edge.

“Keep doing that!” Everything from his pelvis meeting yours, filling you up, and his balls slapping your ass sent sparks into your abdomen and tighten your abs. His languid motion of his hips drew you insane. You didn’t know your eyes were closed until you opened them up and saw his eyes glowing red and predatory. His fangs hung out, his hair a mess, and he too was losing control.

Miguel gripped hard at the bed sheets and ripped them under his nails. He couldn’t take it anymore. He sat back up to his knees, lifted up your hips up to his, and rabbitted hard and fast into you. “God- Your pussy is perfect-!” He groaned and grunted in every push. His head flew back and bucked faster.

“Mig-Miguel- fuck-!” Right there, right there, right there. All of your buttons were hit and signals fired off in every direction. He didn’t dare stop and change course now. Your hands were searching for something to grab on for dear life. He clasped your left hand and held it over your head.

“Say that you love me. Say that you will marry me.” He began to slow by only a little bit. Your eyes flew back to him in desperation for him to speed up again. You didn’t even hear him say anything to you. “D-Don’t slow down!”

He repeated, “Say that you love me. Say that you will marry me.” 

“Yes!” You practically shrieked.

“Yes, what?” He slowed down even more.

“I love you! I will marry you! Please-!” You begged and grinded your hips against his in tandem.

Satisfied with your answer, Miguel jolted himself hard into you, and went back into rabbiting. You crumbled. Your legs trembled and your body shuddered in tremors. Every muscle in your body contracted; your pussy tightened around his cock as a result. 

He fucked you through your orgasm similarly to when he did so with his fingers earlier. Except, he was chasing his own high now. As your pussy tightened, his breath hitched and crumbled his resolve. He came immediately, and ensured to do so completely sheathed inside. He came at the entrance of your cervix and did not pull out until all of his cum was spilled. He gave you a couple pushes inside to ensure all of his cum was deep inside and not spill out. 

Miguel leaned over to the nightstand and opened the drawer to pull out something. Some kind of clothed sticker of sorts. He took off the sticker from the paper and sealed up your pussy with it. You were too fucked out to care what and why he was doing that. You were too focused on his warm cum sloshing inside.

Your eyes fluttered closed and began to drift off to sleep as he cradled you into his arms once more, as he habitually always had. He took your left hand and slid a sparkly ring (a ring you’ve been secretly, not so secretly, been eyeing for the past few months) on your ring finger. He planted a kiss there to seal your fate.

You were finally his, and you were finally never alone. 

Tags: @belle-oftheball34, @mrs-oharaxx, @crystalcrynight, @sukunash0e, @juicyprncess Additional tags: @kaoriloveskeiff, @twinklingbeautifulstars, @tayleighuh, @freehentai, @mythologicalgodsblog [I'm aware this is not the part 2 for The Grass is Greener on the Other Side fic, but I thought you might be interested as this is part of a series.]

Graphic credited to @cafekitsune

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© oharabunny—do not copy nor translate my works. please always give credit

[novacqnes]

heyy!! i'm in love with your writing 😍 it is so impeccable seriously the definition of a *chefs kiss* piece of art (please keep it up) especially tattoos & secrets, it made my day 🥹 could you please write a ellie x fem!reader where ellie paints the reader but then the reader strips to seduce ellie and then the smut happens 😏 i need top!ellie please 🛐

an artists’s muse // ellie williams

warning: smut; fingering, top!ellie, some dirty talk, strap on usage (fem receiving)

a/n: thank you :) i absolutely love this idea, i apologize for taking so long with it but i hope you enjoy!

her eyes traced over your figure splayed on the couch just a few feet away. she looked back at the canvas in front of her, making the first stroke. at first they were light, she examined your body, her deep green eyes focused on your form, savoring each moment. once she was sure she had the image down she made the abstract lines meant to represent your body more prominent.

ellie tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, intently analyzing every inch of you and it felt like you were on display. with each passing moment you grew deeply infatuated. 

she sat with her legs slightly parted on the opposite side of the oak brown easel. her jeans were a deeper rugged blue that fit snugly around her legs, outlining each muscle. she wore a brown button down that sat loosely on her upper body, underneath it a white tank top that exposed her collarbones.

it was nothing special per say but nevertheless it caused a fervent heat to cloud your thoughts. rather than focusing on the proper posing you allowed your mind to linger, with ellie becoming the center of the fantasy.

she swept her short auburn hair behind her ears, drawing your attention to hundreds of dots speckled across her face. her cheeks were slightly flushed, mainly from the heat that seemed to intensify the longer you remained there. her brows furrowed, lowering her eyes into narrow slits and you were sure she could feel the budding heat too. 

“you’re doing great y/n, just hold that pose for a little bit longer.”

ellie looked over again, this time landing on your chest. she held her gaze there, a bit longer than normal. a deep warmth began to buzz behind your cheeks, resulting in you nearly breathless. within a mere second her eyes were back on the canvas, leaving you with an aching desire for her. 

you cleared your throat, drawing her attention away from the portrait. 

“ellie?”

“yeah, what’s up?” she asked. 

the warmth plaguing the room sharpened to a sweltering heat that made your clothes cling to your skin, like they were trapping you. without a second thought you reached for your shirt, slowly unbuttoning it but maintaining ellie’s gaze. 

“it’s so hot, you wouldn’t mind right?” 

you slid the shirt over your arms, her eyes following along. there was so much more that she hadn’t covered in the painting, parts of your body that were hidden by the clothing, yet she wanted to capture every piece. 

she stammered, “no— i wouldn’t, it’s just the portrait-”

“what about it?” 

a cunning smirk spread across your face as ellie’s face reddened— and you didn’t stop there. immediately you reached for your bra, tossing it to the side to reveal your bare chest. ellie was caught in complete awe. sweat loosened her grip to the brush causing it to fall onto floor. 

“i started it with your clothes on…i can’t finish if they aren’t.”

it sounded more like a question than an outright statement. despite her words the last thing ellie wanted was for you to stop. quickly, she noticed your hand creeping towards your jeans, sliding them down your legs and any remnants of hesitation began to diminish.

“i guess we’ll just have to make it work then,” you grinned, allowing the fabric to fall beneath your knees. 

abashed, ellie’s eyes darted back over to canvas as a battle with her own pleasure stirred between her legs. she tried to remember the image of you fully clothed but all she thought about was the one of you nearly naked. she couldn’t help but look back over as you played with your underwear, the only piece of clothing still present on your body. 

“how’s it going?” you purred.

“good—“

you began sauntering over to her, toying with the hem of your panties until you were right in front of her. breathing became a foreign concept to ellie. she couldn’t think, let alone finish the painting with the sight of you so exposed in front of her. 

you sat dangerously close to her, admiring the unfinished portrait. a small smile spread across your lips as you placed a hand on ellie’s thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. she could feel your breath fan the lobe of her ear, causing the hairs on her neck to rise. 

“you really do work miracles, williams,” you whispered, breathily.

she couldn’t tell if you were talking about the painting or the insatiable desire brewing at the forefront of both of your minds. regardless she couldn’t resist much longer.

“it’s easy with the right muse.”

she dropped the brush from her fingers trailing them down the small of your back until she reached your underwear. the distance between the two of you was practically non-existent. your lips tentatively traced her neck not fully allowing them to touch just yet. 

“y/n.”

her voice was stern, and almost threatening. it sent a wave of pleasure to your core but hesitantly, you stopped. 

“is this what you want?”

self restraint was a virtue that ellie was merely clinging to. she wanted nothing more than to touch you, but she couldn’t, not yet. 

“more than anything.”

ellie didn’t move. she knew what you wanted but she had to hear you say it. by the second you grew even more needy, desperately pressing your body against her for some sort of release. 

“ellie please….” you whined, the pleasure becoming almost tortuous, causing her ego to triple at the sight. 

“what do you want, tell me.”

her tone lowered as did her gaze as she focused on you. she could feel you writhing at her side, it awakened something in her, and at the moment you knew as well. 

“i need you to touch me.”

this was ellie’s green light. she cupped your face in her calloused hands, ardently kissing you. she pushed her weight against you, causing the both of you to fall back onto the bed. her hands traveled down to your legs quickly sliding off the piece of fabric that separated you.

the feeling of your bare skin against her was heaven. she couldn’t help but continue to roam it, touching every crevice as if it were the last time. 

“mmh.. you feel so good,” she moaned, moving towards your neck. 

she teasingly slid her tongue over the vein, feverishly sucking it on it. you could hardly produce a sentence as ellie attacked the most vulnerable and sensitive parts of your neck. her weight kept you pressed against the mattress and it only forced the heat to grow stronger. 

her mouth reached your exposed tits, taking one nipple into her mouth. she looked up at you, swirling her tongue around the sensitive flesh before moving onto the next. your hands shot up, sinking them into her disheveled hair. 

“more….more, please.”

she kept her mouth on your chest, drawing her hands down even further towards your wet pussy, dripping with need. releasing her mouth from your overstimulated nipple with a pop, ellie spat onto her finger tips. the pad of her index finger made contact first, gently rubbing on your clit. 

“shit—“ you gasped, clutching onto her arms.

“so fucking needy…”

she applied more pressure to your clit, moving back to your neck. the pleasure simmered from all angles of your body, leaving you a moaning mess in ellie’s hold. the only thing occupying space in your mind was her and the sinful things she could do to you.

“look at you…so desperate for me. you could’ve asked sooner.”

filthy words fell from her pink lips, some were praises and others unrepeatable. the blood rushed straight to groin as ellie slipped a digit in, catapulting you into a splintering high. your vision became clouded by black spots as she curved her finger, searching for the sensitive spongy flesh. 

“you’re gonna cum for me? all over my fingers?”

“yes, yes— i’m so close,” you whimpered, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes.

the sight of you unraveling brought ellie her own pleasure, fueling her to slip yet another finger into your wet core. she adored the way you clamped around her fingers, offering her no escape, the warmth was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

within a matter of seconds you reached your first high, writhing underneath ellie. waves of pleasure traveled through your body leaving you paralyzed as she lifted her body from yours, placing a soft kiss on your temple. she stepped away, leaving you cold and still reeling from the orgasm. 

when she returned she was nearly naked aside from the harness wrapped securely around her pelvis. once again a familiar ache found its way back to your pussy, but this time it was hungrier.

“if i could paint you like this, i would,” she smirked, admiring your weakened state before joining you back on the bed. 

it was only the beginning. 

“one more? think you could take that?” ellie teased, her tone nearly mocking you, and it only fueled you to prove her wrong.

you leaned forward grabbing hold of silicone, pressing the tip against your overstimulated clit. the contact was cold and sent an addictive chill through your body. you held it there, allowing yourself a bit of fun before she took control again. 

“fuck….”

the tip became coated in your wetness, sparking an almost primal urge in ellie. 

“lean back,” she ordered. 

without hesitation you released the strap, giving ellie room to push it into your dripping pussy. she took it, allowing you to feel every inch of it entering cunt. you threw your head back, a string of obscenities escaping from your mouth as she sunk herself in deeper. 

“oh…..” you cried, pressing your eyes closed. desperately you tried to contain yourself but that stupid smirk on ellie’s face had already taken shape.

“too much?”

her movements were slow, taunting at that. she thrusted in until the strap buried inside of you, holding it there until you were a moaning mess. 

you stuttered, “no—no i—“ prying your eyes open, you forced yourself to look at her through a veil of tears. 

it felt heavenly.

her thrusts became more fluid, drawing sharp whines from your lips. with each stroke she brushed against your g-spot just enough to tease you and it was purposeful. 

she brought her hand down, circling your clit with her thumb as the pleasure soared to an intoxicating level. 

“harder ellie— fuck— don’t stop.” you muttered through gritted teeth.

she sped up noticing just how deeply it affected you. each movement sent you over the edge, bringing you just a step closer to another high. however, ellie wanted to take her time, she wanted to remember it, the moans, your cries and just how hot you looked.

“how does it feel?”

“so so good….” you mewled.

she spat down on your already wet pussy adding to the infatuating sensation already consuming you. she fell in love with the way it sunk into you, fitting snugly into your walls. she quickly began fucking you more fervently, slamming her hips into your aching cunt.

leaning down, she kissed you sloppily and with more passion than ever before. you moaned into the kiss, ushering ellie closer with your legs. 

she moved towards your ear, gently nipping at it as she whispered, “i’m gonna make you come so hard.”

your legs shook with each earth shattering stroke. the pleasure was almost unbearable, causing a huge knot within your stomach to form, leaving you begging for a simple release. 

ellie took pride in her efforts, it was evident. the sweat clinging to your skin, the pleas falling from your lips, you were mere moments away from cumming all over her bed and she wanted to savor the moment. 

“just like that baby, come for me, all over me.”

with a few last but deep strokes the white hot pleasure consumed you, leaving you entirely speechless. ellie couldn’t help but stare, this was beauty if she’d ever seen it. she leaned down to kiss you once more, removing the strap from your cunt. you looked over at her, reeling from the remnants of your explosive orgasm. 

she cupped your face in your hands, running them over your sweaty face. this was it. this is what she wanted to capture, she looked back at the blank canvas and then at you when an idea sprang into her mind. 

“leaving me soon?” 

“not for a second, stay like that.” 

she hopped off the bed, picking her brush up from the ground. then she turned her canvas onto the opposite side, presenting a blank white page.

“i wanna paint you like this,” she purred, briefly  running her eyes over you once more. ellie looked as if she was in love, and truly she was. she couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted to create something more. 

millions of potential ideas sparked in her mind the longer that gazed at you and it only fueled her urge to paint. 

“but i look gross…” you muttered.

despite ellie’s enthusiasm you couldn’t fathom why she was so eager to document, especially like that. sweat clung to your skin, leaving you with an almost sticky feel. you could hardly move, courtesy of ellie, so you were trapped in an awkward position. 

“i think you look beautiful…and you are my muse after all,” she grinned, with her eyes beaming directly at you. 

her words sent a gentle buzz of warmth to your cheeks, allowing you to slowly relax as she began a new, more authentic portrait. 

she hummed, “so what do you think?”

“i’m all yours williams.”

[petersbaby]

Eddie x Shy!reader

(Friends to lovers)

Part 2

Warnings: smut (sex), fingering, choking, use of word daddy (just once)

Here it is >:) this is longer than the first part.

-

Weeks later, you were in Eddie’s bed watching tv with him. You had been dating for a little while and it had been perfect.

You grew incredibly close and you trusted him with everything in you. There was something, though, that wasn’t exactly out in the open.

You hadn’t gone beyond kissing in the time you were together.

He automatically assumes it’s just because you’re shy and that you’ll open up to doing things when you get comfortable enough, just like you did with talking.

That was part of it, sure, but definitely not the whole reason.

If you’ve ever heard anyone say that the quiet ones are always the freakiest, they were telling the truth.

You wanted intimacy with him, just didn’t want the gentle vanilla kind he assumes you do. You just can’t figure out a way to say it, because how do you even bring that up?

“Whatcha thinkin bout, princess?” He asks as you drift away in thought, no longer paying attention to the screen.

The real answer was that you were thinking nasty things, perverted thoughts and desires. Head in the gutter and clouded by build up sexual frustration.

The answer you give him was that you were just daydreaming.

A few minutes go by, and your lips find his. You were just going to go for it, try to be really normal.

You had to do something about the ache that spread in your lower stomach whenever you’re around him.

You pull him closer by the collar of his shirt, kissing him deeply. You were so needy and excited that it should’ve realistically embarrassed you, but you had no shame.

“Hey, you know we don’t have to do anything, right? Don’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable with because you think that’s what I want.”

“I want it. Please.”

“Okay.”

He takes that and shifts to be on top of you, hovering over your body as he kissed you hard. You ran your hands beneath his shoulder, roaming them all over his abdomen and back.

The skin on skin contact was so nice, you tugged at the shirt to tell him you want it off and he obliges, giving you a good look at his beautiful stomach and chest. You reach out again to touch him, soft fingers across soft skin.

You end up snaking your hand all the way down his body to meet the erection he had been rubbing into you for a while now as you kissed. You take it the best you can from outside his jeans and squeeze lightly, running your fingers across the length of the outline.

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.” He says desperately into your mouth as you were just exchanging saliva at this point rather than romantically kissing.

He breaks away, bringing his lips to your ear briefly and then down your neck kissing along it.

When he sucks on the sweet spot between your neck and shoulder, you let out a moan that you didn’t give permission to slip out. It was just automatic. He pulls your shirt off of you and continues, your hands reach up to tangle in his hair.

“You like that?” He asks, continuing on your neck, licking and nipping at the skin.

“Mhm. Harder.”

He sucks again, this time without a doubt creating a dark purple mark. You squirm and whine at the feeling, a fire inside you.

When he sees you wiggling, he takes a hand and reaches down to where you need it.

“Mmh, fuck.” You remark, breathlessly.

You reach down to unbutton your jeans and slide out of them, ready for his hand to come back to its rightful place but with less barrier. Once it does, he curses under his breath.

“So wet, my god. All for me?”

You nod desperately. He rubs you like this, through your panties for a while and getting you relatively close in the process.

You were desperately grinding against his hand absentmindedly.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. It’s okay.” He assures, and you relax.

“Fuck, I don’t know. Something, please.” You ask him desperately still. He pulls your panties over to the side and slips a finger inside you which is a great relief but not enough.

“More”, you whisper, and he adds a second. His long fingers go deeper inside you than your own could ever reach and they feel incredible.

You brought his head back to you, to let him bite all along your collarbones. You continued to encourage him to make marks on your soft skin, with him asking “you sure this doesn’t hurt?” And you replying “I want it to.”

You kiss until your lips are numb and you want the rest of his clothes off. He slips out of his pants and boxers in one clumsy movement, returning to you.

“Holy shit”, you look down.

He just chuckles. He’s big and he knows it.

“Please.” You ask, not knowing a better possible word to say in this situation.

“I think I should finger you some more, play with you. I don’t know if you’re ready for me yet.”

“I’m ready, Munson.”

“Fuck, okay then.” He starts to push in and the feeling is immediately euphoric on both ends.

“So goddamn tight.” he says, and you bite your lip in response.

You watch his face as he enters you, the pleasure becoming more and more visible in his expression.

Propping himself up with one arm, he uses the other to reach for your chest and squeeze it ever so gently as he still hesitates to give you the whole thing.

Your hand reaches to his, settling over it and squeezing hard with your hand so he’d know it’s okay.

After a moment is spent on your breasts, you look up to capture him in a kiss again while you guided his hand from your chest up to your throat and squeezing it as well, just like you did with your tits.

“Jesus H Christ.”

You let go of his hand and pull away slightly, taking a minute.

“Sorry, you don’t have to do that. I got carried away a little, I think” you tell him, laughing nervously.

“You don’t think I love this shit?” He asked, applying pressure to the sides of your throat.

“Mmh.” You can only moan now as he restricts your airflow and you start to see stars.

He pushes the rest of himself in, feeling you stretch to accommodate his dick.

“SO fuckin’ tight, baby.”

Your mouth falls open, your brain barely being able to comprehend all the pleasurable feelings you’re experiencing right now. He uses his thumb and pointer finger to grab your chin and keep your mouth open.

You look up at him, in the eyes, and make a guess as to what he was about to do.

You stick your tongue out in anticipation, and he lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth to yours, which you swallow immediately with no hesitation. You were right.

“Fucking hell. So good, you’re so good.” He praises. He picks up the pace, fucking harder and faster and you can only just cry and whimper.

Your eyes barely felt like they could open all the way, in so much bliss.

You suddenly had an idea; you started to change positions for him as you get on all fours, lowering your top half down to the bed as your ass sticks up in the air with your back arched as hard as it can be.

The curly haired and now sweaty boy came behind you to enter again while squeezing your hips and ass so hard his nails were leaving marks.

He had a feeling you liked that, and so he raised a hand to bring it down onto your ass, slapping it red with a rather loud sound.

You moaned at this, confirming his suspicions that you’d like that. He takes you from behind as you relish in the feeling for as long as you can.

“Turn back around, wanna see your pretty face again.”

Once back in missionary, you think he’s getting close but holding it until you get your own orgasm so you reach to where your two bodies meet and start to rub your clit while he fucks you with ferocity, immediately tumbling toward the edge of relief and then off of it.

He can feel you squeeze around him, gushing a little at the same time. You had your hands on your tits, holding them still from bouncing too much as he fucked you hard.

“Fuck, I’m close.” He comments and you wrap your legs around him. He looks confused, almost panicked. “You want me to…”

“Mhm. In me, please, daddy.”

Immediately it was over.

After that sentence, he filled you to the brim with his hot cum, fucking it as deep inside of you as it could go.

He was a moaning and groaning mess, muttering obscenity such as “oh my god, oh my fucking god” and “Jesus fucking Christ.” and lastly, simply: “holy shit.”

“Sorry.” You giggle, as he collapses beside you, out of breath.

“I think you fuckin’ killed me.”

“Nope, I definitely didn’t because you’re still talking to me right now” you smiled, looking over at him as his eyes drifted shut.

“So sweet. Definitely not innocent, but still sweet. Pretty baby.” He says, leaning over to kiss you on the forehead as you melt inside.

[rehnwriter]

New Haven - The Inception of a Novel

The year is 2016, and I decided to get serious about my writing. Back then, I tried out a variety of techniques to get myself to write, brainstorm, come up with ideas, and be creative. Ray Bradbury mentioned one such technique in his fantastic book ‘Zen and the Art of Writing.’ In it, he suggested coming up with titles and later writing the corresponding story.

I came up with quite a few of these titles, and would quickly set out to write the corresponding stories, albeit their first draft. One such draft was written on the 7th of March in 2016, titled ‘The Organ.’

It was a short little piece of roughly 3.200 words, centering on a number of mysterious deaths in a small religious town.

Many other drafts I’d written wouldn’t change much and eventually become the very first stories I posted on Nosleep and shared here on Tumblr. ‘The Organ,’ however, exploded in size and its second draft became an 11.000-word monstrosity. This draft already included some of the elements that should later shape the story: Claire’s mysterious suicide, Ethan’s obsession with figuring out what actually happened, as well as the narrator’s quest for answers.

The third draft of ‘The Organ’ changed little. It grew by another 2.000 words, to a total of 13.000, but the story stayed the same. While I worked on the fourth and final draft, the final polishing, so to say, I felt there was more to this idea. I’d grown fond of my two main characters, David and Ethan, the mystery they were trying to solve, as well as the small town it was all set in.

And so, for a while, I stopped working on it and put it to rest, until I knew what I wanted to do with it.

In the months and years to come, I’d write more stories, and eventually tackled my first longer work, a series titled ‘Laura Ebert.’ Even now, I think the series’ basic premise is decent enough, but it’s a rather shoddy, and especially boring work.

When I returned to ‘The Organ,’ I took some time off writing and reread and analyzed some of my favorite series on Nosleep. Why did they work so well, and why didn’t my series ‘Laure Ebert?’ It wasn’t long before I realized the problem. My series was happening in a vacuum, and my main character was just moving from plot point to plot point with little opposition. The series I’d read, however, were happening in a living, breathing world. Once I’d realized that, I returned to the drawing board and spent an entire weekend plotting out this new version of ‘The Organ.’

I added many things that weren’t there before. David’s time at school, his conflict with the bullies Craig and Mark, the bible circle, but also David’s church presentation, and his conflict with his mother. The result was a story of about 32.000 words, by far the longest I’d written so far, and one I was rather proud of. I’d eventually post it on Nosleep and share it here on Tumblr as a nine-part series under the title of ‘A guest at my motel asked me to post his story. He looked like he went through hell…’ This was back in 2019.

The series did okay, but it didn’t prove to be the big hit I’d hoped it would be.

A year later, I returned to it once more because I realized it was the perfect basis for a novel. After rereading it, I realized what the series’ major problem was. It had a strong beginning, and a strong ending, but barely any middle part. In its first half, I slowly introduced all the characters, the mystery, and its many elements before I rushed straight into the ending. When I began outlining the novelization, I put a lot of extra energy into expanding its middle part. I extended and deepened the mystery, added a variety of side-conflicts, but also added some new characters or changed the role of existing ones.

I began working on the first draft of this new version of ‘The Organ’ in the middle of 2020, and its third draft was finished in April 2022. The work, however, wasn’t done just yet.

After some extensive peer-reviewing with a writer friend of mine, and after rereading it myself, I identified a variety of problems or things I could improve on. The story itself was set in stone, but certain parts of it, the writing, and the overall style, could use a bit more polish.

This reviewing period ended in the middle of this year, and soon after I began working on its true, and final, draft.

I completed this final draft at the end of last week. It comes down to roughly 90.000 words. By now, I’m honestly pretty tired of the entire thing, and I’m more than happy to have it over with.

What was once a small 3.200 word draft titled ‘The Organ,’ has turned into ‘New Haven,’ a slow-burn horror mystery novel. It’s the single work that I spent by far the most time on over the years, and I can’t wait to see it published.

I hope you’re all excited about it, especially those who read my series ‘A guest at my motel asked me to post his story. He looked like he went through hell…’

Thank you all for reading! I hope you’re looking forward to this new novel. More updates to come soon!

Regards, and have a great day!

[siberat]

what Did I do part 3

conclusion of the Bl.ast of.f x on.slaught Drabble. What kind of ending is in store for our dear shuttle? Read and find out!

“Would you look at that?” On/slaught purred, gently running his servos over the other’s thighs until resting on the swell of love handles.

The only response Bl/ast Of/f could provide was a shy smile and blush. Feeling the warmth emit from his crush's frame so close felt terrific. And those servos squishing his chubby thighs ignited such desire through his frame. He never thought he’d find himself in this situation in a million years.

Those servos made their way to the front, gently pinching the flab that dropped over the hip plating. “You’re so round and squishy.”

The shuttle snorted. “Yeah…. Fat little piggy, you mean….”

“Ah-ah…” On/slaught tisked. “My lovely, fat little piggy, yeah?”

“You…. You really find this…” He slapped his belly, sending a cascade of ripples through its mass, then shook his helm in disbelief. “Lovely?”

“I…. ah….” The gestalt leader took a deep breath, then exhaled. “I recall seeing you after… what I realize now were binging sessions.” His optics flicked away shyly. “I…. couldn’t keep my optics off of ya.”

“Really?” Bl/ast Of/f found that hard to believe. While he felt the piercing glares of his comrades those days, he felt his boss grew even more distant and cold. In fact, it just made his guilt about overeating feel worse. “I thought…. I thought it always displeased you….b-because…”

“Because I didn’t know how to communicate properly.” On/slaught shrugged. “Ah, I guess we both need to work on that…I suppose…”

“Yeah….” He wiggled, making himself comfortable on the lap.

“Hey, come here,” The blue mech beckoned. “Come closer.”

“Okay…” Bl/ast Of/f obeyed despite not really knowing what the other wanted. The gap between their helms closed until their foreheads pressed together. Excitement built in his frame, yet the feeling of nervousness lingered. What was happening- and was it what he was thinking it was?  “Um-“

“Stop overthinking everything, Bla/sty.” On/slaught’s helm tilted and moved forward until the gap was closed entirely. A waft of warm breath ghosted over before their lips gently brushed against each other’s.

Their first kiss. It was gentle at first, the touch so delicate as their lips softly pressed together, then gone in an instant. And it felt amazing. There was no other place Bl/ast Of/f would rather be right now. Sitting on his crush's lap with those servos caressing his chub while their helms dipped so close was his version of Cyper/topia. Pri/mus he never wanted this moment to end!

“You like that?” A husky tone asked.

“Hmm-hmmmm”

“Atta boy…” On/slaught cooed before repeating the action. Their lips brushed against each other, this time lasting longer, the leader’s opening to gently suck the other’s lower lip.

Would it be so wrong to deepen this kiss? Bl/ast Of/f mewled, enjoying this kind of attention, yet he greedily desired more. He wanted those servos to roam all over his frame. He wanted that mouth all over his frame. As if having a mind of their own, the shuttle’s hands reached out and explored that broad chest, tracing the plating’s outline and desperately prodding at the seams.

Hearing his boss’s engine rev was encouraging. Bl/ast Of/f flicked his tongue out with a new sense of boldness, swiping it across those lips, only to have it captured in the other’s mouth.

And there was no containing that lusty moan at such an intimate kiss! Just feeling On/slaught’s servo’s grip at his chubby sides as his helm pressed firmly to his, deepening the kiss and setting all his circuits ablaze. The shuttle scooted forward, pressing his frame against his crush's warmth and wrapping his arms around the big, strong leader.

And pretty much rammed his tongue down the other’s throat.

“Ahmmm-“ On/slaught pulled back, causing the shorter mech to whine. “Hold up there, buddy.”

He took too much! Slaggit! Bl/ast Of/f scolded himself for being so needy. Could he not contain himself? Why did he have to be such a demanding, clingy, sparkling?

“Let me guess,” On/slaught chuckled, kissing the other’s helm. “Overthinking again?”

Bl/ast Of/f Sheepishly smiled and nodded his helm. “S-Sorry….”

“You gotta stop beating yourself up like that.” On/slaught motioned for the other to get up, and the shuttle slid off the lap. Once freed from the heavy mech, the Comba/ticon Leader went to move but had to stop. He flexed his legs a bit.

“You okay?”

“I…. ah, just need to let the circulation return to my pedes.” He playfully winked at the shuttle, who covered his lips in embarrassment.

However, a loud and painful grumble erupted from his belly, causing his servos to desperately clutch the bloated midsection. “Ooofff…..”

“Got a tummy ache?”

Bl/ast Of/f winced and nodded his helm.

“Here, allow me to help.” On/slaught scooted himself back on the berth until his back was propped against the wall. He spread his legs and patted his chest. “Come here, my devoted subject. Claim your reward.”

With a sense of giddiness, Bl/ast Of/f stepped forward and crawled onto the berth on all fours—his belly nearly sliding across the mattress as he stalked towards his boss. Once perched over his crush, another kiss was stolen, both sets of engines revving and cooling fans clicking.

But it broke once again, causing the shuttle to whine.

“Turn around and lay your back against my chest.”

Bl/ast Of/f nodded and eagerly obeyed. It felt so cozy to have his frame pressed against such a strong and study one. And Bl/ast Of/f released a sigh when those arms wrapped around his chubby frame and grasped his stuffed tummy. He was receiving a nice belly rub!

Those servos gently rubbed large round circles over that growling belly. The touch was warm and loving, the pressure gently pressing down on the overstretched mesh. Every little quake that rumbled, digits were there to soothe the angry beast. Feeling the touch alone was mesmerizing, but the care and adoration in the rubdown topped it off.

The large circles turned to gentle sweeping of the servo across the rounded ball. The movement was slow, caring, and felt very relaxing. He felt so safe and secure in his boss’s arms- trusting him entirely with touching such a vulnerable part of his frame. Oh, he’d let those hands wonder, claiming whatever they desired.

If the shuttle could melt into his leader’s arms, he totally would!

Even better was feeling the other’s chest press against his back. Each deep breath On/slaught took in pressed nicely against his frame. Even those thighs clamping against his own made him feel so snug and wanted. Bl/ast Of/f couldn’t help but lean his helm back and relax at this sensual body hug.

And when lips began to trail along his neck, the shuttle nearly lost it. Feeling that mouth gently trail along his cabling sent shivers up his struts. Feeling that tongue tickle and lap before denta gently nipped was such a tease!

However, Bl/ast Of/f enjoyed it and even tilted his helm to the side, silently demanding more.

“Enjoying your reward?” On/slaught whispered between mouthing neck cables. His servos groped lovingly at the swelled belly.

“Absolutely!” Bl/ast Of/f needily whined between hiccups. “You…. You make me feel so good…”

“You deserve it, my prized pet.” The blue mech purred, gently patting at the belly. “Nothing but the best for you.”

And with those words, Bl/ast Of/f sighed, relaxing into the sensual touch of the belly rub and the full-body snuggle. Pri/mus he never wanted this feeling to end!

[karlswrites]

A Red Leviathan

Part three of the Devildom Taxi Service is here! Warning: this is not my best work, and it is not proofread. But, gosh, it was bugging me, just sitting there in my Google Docs. I've already outlined the next brother's story, and I plan on getting it out before the New Year.

I hope you still enjoy it!

Warnings: One slightly suggestive joke towards the end, tooth-rotting fluff, a very flustered Levi

Word Count: 1,690

Due to a rather miserable series of events, the House of Lamentation’s kitchen was no longer available for dinner tonight. You hadn’t been present at the kitchen’s destruction, but you suspected foul play between Beel and Mammon. The two were often at each other’s throats, Mammon’s greed and Beel’s insatiable resembling perfect rivals. It would not be a stretch to assume they had been arguing over Beel’s new carton of Hell Pepper Jelly. Such a fight undoubtedly left a hole in the wall, rendering the kitchen out of commission. You couldn’t help but snicker when you imagined Lucifer’s scrunched nose and brow. He wanted to starve them, but doing so would look poorly on him. He also had you to look after. Taking his family to a simple restaurant and paying for those who hadn’t caused mayhem seemed like a reasonable solution. That’s why you were heading towards Leviathan’s room- to fetch him for dinner. 

Climbing the steps that lead to his door, you could already make out thundering game music. The base reverberated from behind the oak door, and there was a triumphant crescendo of brass. Leviathan was, you gathered, fighting the boss of some TSL Spin-Off. A symphony of grunts, screams, and curses accompanied the musical backing. The music had led you to believe the demon had been doing well, but that clearly wasn’t the case. You inhaled sharply through your nose before knocking on the door. 

“I’m busy!” Leviathan screamed. 

You didn’t expect him to be cordial when raging. His voice rang out against the music. Leviathan gave out a shrill yell; he had been struggling for a while. You gave it a second before you spoke again. 

“Leviachan!” You sang. 

The fervent keyboard smashing stuttered for a second, and you heard Levi make an unidentifiable noise that was strewn between a gasp and a snort. It was oddly adorable. 

There was a moment when you heard nothing but the background music. An image of a red-faced Levi popped into your noggin. His fingers were probably stretched out over several keys, frozen yet twitching. One brow would certainly be cocked, and his fangs would have a tenacious grasp on his bottom lip. You could not see him, but you pictured him as a mess. You didn’t need to see him to know you were spot on.

“Le-vi-a-chan!” You annunciated each syllable in a way that was so unnervingly clear. Levi’s circumstances grew more difficult behind the door with each passing second.

A strangled whine emitted from behind the door, and you got him- hook, line, and sinker. It was time to real him in.

The music cut off. Unsteady footsteps skipped to the door. The large oak door swung open and, leaning along the doorway with a furious blush, was Levi. Just as you had suspected, he looked like a mess. Hands dug deep under his arms, and fangs buried themselves in his bottom lip. For someone screaming ferociously before, Levi was shy now. If you hadn’t spent as much time in the Devildom as you had, this swift change in demeanor would be offputting. Still, it was always refreshing to see how quickly the many sides of Leviathan could show themselves.

Levi’s eyes avoided yours at first, but as soon as he caught yours, he said, “I’m in the middle of a very important battle.” He straightened his back and puffed up his chest. “So what d’ya want?”

It took everything within you not to laugh at the change. Your boy was trying so hard to appear manly, but his face was not helping. Red continued to stretch over his face as he spoke. 

“Come on now, Human. I don’t have all day. I’ve never left a game paused for so long.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But I’m here on a mission.”

You give him a toothy grin as you recount Lucifer’s instructions. As you do, you notice Levi’s face fall slightly at the mention of his older brother. Sure, you have always visited Levi’s chambers frequently. The idea of someone else telling you to do so left him uneasy. 

“Of course, those two idiots caused a scene. They’re always doing something wrong,” he sighed. His shoulders had relaxed, and the blush had dimmed slightly. “So Lucifer ordered you to come get me for dinner? Fine.” 

The poor demon boy removed himself from the way and headed back into the comfort of his cove. Reluctantly, he turned his monitor and PC off, wincing at the whooshing noise the system made as it turned black. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, muttered a small goodbye to Henry, and closed the door to his room. 

His eyes flashed over yours as he muttered, “Let’s go, then.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” you called after him. 

From behind, you could easily make out his tense shoulders and crimson ear tips. Gosh, you enjoyed teasing him so much. Your words must have landed a critical hit on his heart because the boy remained silent until you reached the scraggly group of brothers waiting on the floor below. 

Like a teacher, Lucifer took the group's headcount before announcing where you’d all be eating. Since Mammon wronged Beel, Beel got to choose the eatery. Hell’s Kitchen was the obvious choice. If anyone made even the slightest noise of disapproval, Lucifer smacked the back of their heads. You had to warn Levi can keep his mouth shut. In response, he stuck his tongue at you.

“Careful,” you muse, “I might catch that later.” You winked at him. 

Your words left a ferocious blush on the poor guy’s face. He almost had a heart attack right then and there. 

“Gah, don’t say that!” he squeaked. Gosh, he was adorable.

“But you look so cute when you blush. It’s a fact.”

After a minute of clutching his heart and hiding his face in his hands, you heard him whimper, “This doesn’t fit my tsundere persona.” 

You had to admit that your boyfriend was incredibly self-aware. Even when you first met him, he struggled to hide his flust-rations (that pun was horrible). 

“Hey, enough chit-chat back there! It would be a shame if either of you missed dinner,” Luci called from before you. A mischievous glint in his crimson eye caused Levi to blush and grimace. You just snickered and began to walk along with the group, almost leaving your boyfriend behind. He scurried to catch up with you. 

…

Why Lucifer insisted that you walked, you had no idea, but you hated him for it. The Devildom was boundless, and nothing ever stayed in place. Different locations constantly changed, and traveling was difficult. Especially for you, a human with no power at all. Being the distant descendant of a fallen angel didn’t help. You couldn’t summon any mystical wings or a spirit animal to carry you. It sucked. You were already beginning to sweat; it was disgustingly hot. You felt as though you had been walking for days. Screw the incomprehensible time-thing down here. 

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” Levi voiced from behind you. 

His blush was long gone, one headphone covering an ear, and he was flipping through apps on his phone. He looked cool both in terms of temperature and aura. 

“I might if we don’t get to the restaurant soon.” 

You meant it as a joke, trying to shrug off the pressing heat. However, Levi didn’t take it like that. Within a second, his hand was on your shoulder, and he looked worried. 

“Really? If you don’t feel well, you should tell me sooner!” 

That really didn’t fit his tsundere persona. 

“I’m fine,” you lied.

“Bull.” 

Levi shut off his phone, removed his headphones, and shoved the articles in his pockets (I’m just convinced these boys have ‘bags of holding’ for their pockets). He darted in front of you and bent down. 

“Levi?” you asked. “What’re you doing?”

“Get on.”

“I can walk,” you tried to reason. 

“I don’t care. If you keep going on like this, you’re gonna start complaining, and I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with that right now.”

Of course, he needed a reason to justify being nice to you. Levi truly was a romantic soul. 

“I’ll be sure to keep it to a minimum,” you retorted dryly. 

“Human, I swear, if I have to stay like this for even a second longer, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder,” he paused, “and I think this would be more comfortable.” 

Wow, he must really be concerned. You agreed then and clung onto his back. As he stood back up, he made some joke about you being heavy, but he was just kidding. You didn’t weigh a thing to him. Being a demon with immense power had its perks, like being able to pick up adorable humans. 

He smelled amazing. This man smelled like the ocean but, like, clean. It reminds you of the ‘Ocean’ scent from a famous store on Earth but much better. His jacket was also soft and cool, and the air around you shifted from depressingly caliente to cool and crisp. You silently thanked the universe that the Sin of Envy found power in the ocean, that he felt like a sunset on the beach at the tail-end of summer. Boy howdy, the relief was incredible. 

“Thanks, Levi. Want me to return the favor later?” You asked against his ear. Mans looked like a fire hydrant. 

“You couldn’t even walk to the restaurant! I doubt you could carry me on the way back!” He made an excellent point. 

“Yeah, sure, but we could see about tonight.” You were such a friggin tease. 

“What does that even- Oh, my God. You- you’re evil,” he could barely keep his voice from breaking. You had to lay off the flirting if you two wanted to get to the eatery safely. 

“Heh, maybe I really do belong in the Devildom,” you mused. 

“Yeah, well you belong to me, and that’s where I live.”

“You belong with me, Levi.”

“Whatever.” 

You could see that, from his shoulder, he had a sweet smile on his face.

[jkpfr]

OC-tober Day 1: Fave OC

As I announced on my main blog here, I will be participating in beweird's OC-tober prompt list across blogs. This is the blog that I'll use to either write something for an OC, or talk about the writing of an OC. For Day 1, I will be doing the latter.

Fave OC? That's like asking me who's my favourite child. (It's whoever's closest at the time of asking.)

I don't really have a single favourite OC, and my brainrot can sometimes move from OC to OC, cast to cast. Still, if you know me, you'll know I'm a hypocrite if I don't choose Jan.

Oftentimes, when I think about my "main biases", the list will be something like Jan, Akiro, Keith, Benjamin, Hermès, Artémis. But God knows I've had periods of having intense Rin brainrot. I'll even brainrot on an OC who's supposed to be a side character from time to time (looking at you, Ashley). Still, Jan and Akiro are my most specialest of boys, and I'll have to go for Jan because at least his creation wasn't an act of God.

(...You'll have to ask me more details about that if you wish to understand. I guess it makes Akiro sort of like Jesus. Somewhat.)

Jan is one of my most well-known OCs because he is currently a character in my very long Danganronpa-style story, @murderfabrication. Among this cast, he is one of the few characters I'd created long before I planned to have a fangan, for an independent story. He's fighting with Noah for the award of oldest (creation wise) on a technicality.

Here is the boy as he appears in Murder Fabrication (which is a passion project I recommend you read), although this is by far not my favourite iteration of his design-wise. Because of the cruelty ingrained in this story, Murder Fabrication Jan is stuck in his boring school uniform and doesn't get to show off either his dazzling sense of style, or an important item that he is now left to wear in secret. I really wish to stop using the Danganronpa sprite artstyle at some point, because despite being accurate, it makes him look weird, like I can't get across how his hair would feel, how handsome and special and pretty-boy-ish he's supposed to be.

I created Jan when I was 15. Once their outline exists, I tend to view my characters over time as though I'm learning to know them, rather than coming up with them. Because of that, it seriously feels to me as though Jan and I grew together. He is in fact the character that makes me feel the most like I "learned to know him": there are many aspects of his personality and story I knew were right from the start, but I didn't know why or the details of how - I might even have been awkward at writing them because of that; and it's as I gained more knowledge about the world, myself, people in general, and as I spent more time thinking about Jan, that those things eventually started to make sense.

Although I have at times used Jan in Alternate Universes where I changed aspects of who he was on purpose, I don't think there's anything I've ever retconned about his "default" personality and story. There are obviously things I'd write differently by virtue of no longer being 15 years old, things I might opt out of saying because they're better off implied, things I'll emphasise more, etc.; but rather than rewriting his story to make it better now that I'm a better writer, with Jan, it really appears that I'm getting to know him - most likely as I become a better writer.

"Something I knew I wanted him to do, but I didn't know why"? Now I know what it means. "A part of his backstory I knew was included, but I didn't know when"? Now I do. It didn't really require any effort. He lives in my head constantly. Akiro is very much the same, though it comes across slightly differently, because of the act-of-God thing.

I'm most satisfied with his writing in Murder Fabrication. Being seen from the third person benefits Jan greatly. I'm satisfied with the way I've presented him as the shockingly nice and charming young man that he is, while using his actions, his surroundings, and his rare missteps as tools to hint at what else there is to say about him. Jan is an interesting character to write in my opinion, because he's the stereotype of the perfect, perfectly handsome man, but from knowing him by heart, I know what it is that makes him so realistic. And it's that aspect that makes him so near and dear to me.

Here's an example I think is a good instance of Neo, Murder Fabrication's protagonist, noticing what makes Jan succeed at being perfect: in a certain chapter of the story, Neo enters the dining room while Jan is in the kitchen, in the middle of preparing hot cocoa for someone else and himself. When he comes out of the kitchen, Jan gives Neo a cup of tea, apologising for not having enough time to prepare a third hot cocoa for him. Neo is touched, and the tea tastes "ridiculously good".

He quickly notes that the tea is sweetened, just like he likes to drink it. After listening to Jan's chat with the other person, he notes to himself that the tea isn't perfect because Jan, a talented pianist, is somehow also a master of making tea. What made the tea so good was the good timing, the attention paid to his tastes - both liking tea in the first place, and the amount of sugar he puts in it -, the care he put into making it, and that his way of offering made him desire it.

(...Though what does the effort I put into writing Jan accurately to who he really is mean to anyone if I don't eventually make the ever-popular ship Akijan canon? No one shall know, as I continue to insist... not canon. ✍(◔◡◔) )

[pixielovers2account]

Wednesday Addams x fem reader

Wednesday wasn’t one to cry through pain no matter what weather it’s getting shot with and arrow or even being slit in the arm. She’s never shown feeling.

She’s never cared too.

But when it came to you underneath her breathing out in ragged breaths. Something in her…shattered she felt empty no no that wasn’t it. She felt pain a deep deep burning pain cutting her throat burning her eyes she felt..sad

A frown plastered to the young Addams pink lips “y/n”

This was the most broken her best friend Enid has ever heard her, “get up, come on please you have too get up.” Glossy eyes looked over a pale unfazed face…frozen.

That’s what you where you where frozen. Your body cold. Colder than usual. “Please” she yelled her hands finding your face. Small fingers tracing the outlines of imperfections that she’s come to love, love? Yes yes! That’s what the young menace has felt for you. The shaky feeling of her legs as you neared, the painful burn in her throat when you smiled, the need to feel your warm flesh against hers you’ve made the young Addam love you.

But before I finish this part let me tell you of the tail of “The raven and her little wolf”

Let’s start from the beginning yes?

This story starts in July 21 of 2021, the day a new light struck into Wednesdays life.

The lush green that filled her window of nevermore. She let out a board sigh continuing typing her story now on chapter 999 she couldn’t wait for her next chapter a chapter that she wouldn’t expect to be so… intriguing.

“Wednesday!” Her annoying friend sang out Wednesday day took in a deep annoyed breath before letting it out “yes enid?”

“There’s a new student! And she has the most precious name.”

“Is that so?” Wednesday said uninterested as she continued typing. “Yes, it’s y/n and she’s a wolf.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes “another mutt?”

“Hey what’s that supposed to mean?” The girl pouted “anyway she’s not like us she’s a different wolf.” Now this caught the Addams attention as she stopped her fingers “is that so?”

“And where would this, beautiful named girl come from?” Wednesday was stiff her close friend wandering what this was about “up north actually she said shes come from the Arctic then Seattle then we’ll here.” Wednesday stood “show me”

…

Wednesday scurried down the halls her head held high as the sounds got closer, Enid told her where the young wolf was placed in a training center she explained that the wolf didn’t have much control over there actions this only meant it was a shifter but not just a shifter, a curtain tribe that her family has caught for years.

As she entered the room the smell of wet dig filled her nose in disgust she curled her nose up. And let out a sigh “Addams” a rather deep voice grumbled behind her “l/n”

“Why are you here” a low growl came from the huge wolf. “I came for you”

Wednesday let out a sigh “unacceptable, y/n you know I’ll never bow to you.”

“Then your foolish.” A more feminine voice dang from behind her “we used to be friends what happened y/n?” Wednesday brushed a stran away from her sight. “I grew Addams, I stopped falling for your foolish games. Your tricks.”

Wednesday sighed tilting her head towards the shadow “or you let your uncle lie to you. You let him into your mind and let him make you a mindless soldier.”

“ENOUGH” you yelled appearing in front of her. Bright golden eyes bored into her Cole black eyes. “You know your powerless to hurt me, the memory’s won’t let you.” You hissed at her backing away “Get. Out.” You huffed looking away from her “let me help you.”

“Just leave Addams.” The Addams scoffed leaving you in your unlit room.

This was going to be a long year longer than the last.

Part two?

[dawngen]

Under the half-full moon, two silhouettes are outlined by its silver light. Shadows stretching long over the heart of the camp, they sat at the perfect vantage point to overlook it all at the peak of one of the great trees DawnClan thanked routinely for its shade. The two felines sat close on a single, broad branch, and spoke in soft, quiet tones, knowing how well voices carried in the grotto.

"I didn't expect you to do that, Darkstar..."

Looking down to the apprentices' den, Boulderfrost curled her tail over her forepaws, which were drawn tidily close to her belly.

"You, mentoring Brightpaw? I think she about went to StarClan." Boulderfrost chuckled, recalling how her kit had practically exploded from the excitement and honor of being declared the leader's apprentice. Not only that, but the leader's first apprentice since they came to this new territory.

"I wish I could mentor both of them," Darkstar admitted, and dark blue eyes slid over to study Boulderfrost. In the moonlight, her whiskers almost seemed to catch and reflect the light. Her eyes sage-green eyes were bright, excited. "But I know Lightstripe will do well by Sunpaw."

Boulderfrost hummed her agreement, and Darkstar turned her gaze elsewhere, likewise looking down to the apprentices' den. Sunpaw and Brightpaw had each other, but it was their first night outside of the nursery. Now, they would share a den with Duskpaw and Oatpaw, rather than only their mother. Some part of Boulderfrost had fretted over this change, but both felines seemed more than happy to transition to the new space.

"... You are an excellent mother to them, Boulderfrost." Boulderfrost straightened, surprised by the transition in topic that broke the momentary silence. "Why did you never teach them to call you 'mother'?"

From surprised, to solemn, Boulderfrost's gaze lingered for only a beat upon Darkstar before she looked elsewhere. Down into the camp, she did not look again to the apprentices' den, but instead, the nursery.

"... I don't mind them calling me by my name, instead of mother," she said, softly. "I just... I feel if I take that title, it means I'm no longer honoring their real mother. I want them to always have her memory close to their hearts, and when they think of 'mother', they think of her. So she'll never fade."

Quietly, Darkstar listened, and digested these words. She understood where Boulderfrost was coming from. Ever since the kits could comprehend speech, she spoke of their kittypet mother who so bravely brought them to the clan. She spoke of how even a kittypet, a cat looked down upon by other clans, could demonstrate such courage and selflessness, and how they, too, could follow in her pawsteps. Yet, at the end of the day, Darkstar found herself more in awe of Boulderfrost's sense of selflessness as she grew close to these kits, but never took what she felt did not belong to her.

"... I'm sure she's thanking you from Silverpelt," Darkstar reassured. Shuffling, she pressed her side against Boulderfrost's, and without thinking twice, Boulderfrost settled her cheek against Darkstar's shoulder. Beneath her fur, Boulderfrost felt herself warm.

"Do you mind... coming with me, to her grave, so we can tell her about her kits' ceremony?"

Darkstar's eyes crinkled in a smile, and tilting her head, she gave a nod.

"Of course. I'll be the first to tell her all about Brightpaw's growth."

Boulderfrost nodded, and with sunshine in her heart, she gently pulled away to lead them down to the nameless kittypet's final resting place.

[screadingchallenge]

Behind the Keyboard Volume 24

Behind the Keyboard is a series of interviews with different Schitt’s Creek fanfic authors. The series will last as long as there is interest (from authors) and capacity (from me). If you are an author from the Schitt’s Creek fandom who would like to participate, send a DM to this account.  

Each author was given ten questions. The first five questions are the same for every author, the last five will vary.

Let’s meet our next author:

@stereopticons​ / stereopticons

How many fics have you written? 

I’ve published 32 Schitt’s Creek fics! Not counting the numerous WIPs or things I wrote for old fandoms. 

When did you publish your first fic on AO3? 

October 2021! 

Describe your writing process from “Oh, I have an idea” to pushing publish on AO3. 

This really depends on the fic! Sometimes I will get an idea and go immediately to pouring words into a doc. If it’s a longer or more complex fic, I will write out some notes or a vague outline (for 5+1s, I usually write out the general theme of each of the 5 things). I tend to write very linearly, so I’ll start at the beginning and work my way through, though sometimes I’ll get ideas for later scenes or lines of dialogue and if I don’t put them down, I will definitely forget! Once I have it written, I will read back through it a couple of times, or make someone else read it for me, and then post. 

Tell me about your most recent fic? 

What do you love about it? Is there anything you think you could have done better? My most recent fic was the ocean grew hands to hold me which was written after I spent two days sitting by a lake! I really like how it turned out and I definitely poured a lot of my own feelings about water into it, so it’s a really personal fic for me. It was one of those fics that I just started writing and I didn’t spend a lot of time editing or developing the idea, so it probably could have used some more editing! And maybe I would have expanded on the end some more, but I like the way it ended and maybe I’ll delve more into it later

What advice would you give to someone who’s thinking about publishing their fic for the first time? 

I have two pieces of (potentially contradictory!) advice: first, write for yourself. You don’t owe anyone this part of yourself. Write what you want! Your stories will be better if you write something YOU want to write. The second piece of advice is to just put it out there! I know putting your work out for everyone to see is scary, especially if it’s something really personal to you, but even if you write for yourself, hearing people’s comments and reactions and kudos definitely help 

Do you use a beta? Why or why not? Do you beta for other people? 

I do sometimes! For shorter fics, I usually just make one of my friends look over it quickly though if it’s really short, I sometimes don’t even bother with that. For longer things, I definitely try to get someone to read it first. My brain moves faster than my fingers when I type sometimes so even if it’s just to catch the words I forgot, it definitely helps to have someone look at it! I do beta when people ask, and am open to beta-ing for others, feel free to send me a message!

Would you rather find a title or write a summary? 

Oh god, neither, lmao. I guess title? I have a running list of potential fic titles on my phone (song lyrics, mostly) but somehow they never seem to fit? Sometimes you just know what the title is going to be and sometimes it’s the hardest thing. Summaries are my enemy. I do not know how to make my fic marketable in a few lines! I am also bad at elevator pitches in general!

In what way are you most like your favorite Schitt’s Creek character? 

I am filled to the brim with anxieties, just like David. And I can’t control my face. 

Who is another fic writer you admire and why? 

Oh, there’s so many! If I name specific people, I’m sure I’ll forget someone. I admire people who can build whole worlds using the characters we know so well. I admire people who know these characters inside and out and you can see it in their writing. I admire the people who write with such elegance that it makes me want to cry. I admire everyone who takes their very specific interest and writes about it. I admire the people who put little pieces of themselves in the things that they write. 

What is the favorite scene you’ve ever written? 

This is so hard! I can’t pick one (they’re my bebes!) I’m going to go with the first kiss scene from the lie between your teeth, the “I never stopped loving you, either” scene from if i’m not beyond repair and all of yeah i’m afraid (but i’ll follow you anyway) 

[ei-banana]

pairing: eisara (moderately nsfw)

wc: 767

Sara etched at the page with the same tenacity as her love. (artist/muse au)

———

“How do I look?”

Sara paused and leaned back, eyes adjusting once her nose was no longer flush with the canvas. Ei lay sprawled atop their bed a few feet away, sheets rumpled and forgotten down by her ankles; she was naked, glistening with sweat and haloed golden by early evening light.

They had woken late that morning, forgoing the day’s plans in favor of losing themselves in one another. Sara had pressed Ei into the mattress, trailing down her body with molten kisses until the sighs pouring from her parted lips grew throaty and deep. She picked the other woman apart and left her open and flush, gazing up through fluttering lashes a most lascivious sight. Sara perched above her, eyes gleaming with reverence; her fingers itched to immortalize the virtuous display.

The taller woman had leaned down, prying Ei’s mouth open with an apt tongue— so precise and ardent that Ei gripped the sheets above her own head, the phantom feel of Sara’s tongue traveling the planes of her body far too vivid a memory. Sara pulled back, brushing slickened lips against the jut of Ei’s cheekbone, whispering for her to stay still.

She was up and off the prone woman quickly, cool air pebbling exposed flesh, but Ei obeyed her request. Sara prepped her easel deftly— a gift from Ei herself, something to ring in the new year— sitting at a low rung stool and whittling away at dull charcoal until it was sharpened to her liking.

Sara eyed the curves of her muse’s body, hand moving across the page continuously until the face took shape, sketching the rough outline of the body. Ei now squirmed in wait, huffing when Sara still hadn’t answered her question.

The scratch of charcoal paused and she glanced up, eyes lowering back to the smudged lines before her, ears tipping pink when she smiled.

“It’s coming along rather nicely.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” There was an obvious note of impatience in her voice— a voice so rich it had the power to ignite the embers of craving once more.

“You’re captivating, Ei.” The woman smiled at the praise, pushing her chest out and spreading her legs wider until Sara sputtered. “Good, just like that,” she spoke barely above a whisper, gripping the lip of the stool for grounding.

She worked furiously, taking care where Ei was soft and most open, breath growing shallow at the deepening flush of the other woman’s chest. It was a sort of foreplay, a way to tease without touch, and it never lost its charm.

Intimacy was found in the flick of her pencil, the loving way she pressed her adoration into the page— the same way she would carve into Ei later, far more visceral and impassioned than their first, second, or third collision.

Sara darkened the line of her legs and Ei was nearly panting, shifting tirelessly on the dampening sheets. “How much longer?”

“Patience,” Sara breathed, and Ei whined. “Just a little more.”

She ran her knuckle along the underside of the leg furthest from her, pressing in hard to shade darker at the crux of Ei’s legs; the other woman hiccuped around a gasp, the sound of it slamming into the walls of Sara’s own chest. A caress at her side, the birthmark below her eye, the wrinkles in the sheets where her toes curled, and each divot of skin where time had chiseled away to make her softer. Sara’s head had grown light.

“Sara, please.” She looked unto the other woman, mouth slackened and pupils blown, the tip of her pencil slipping at the look on Ei’s face.

A truly salacious glint in her eye; her frame trembled imperceptibly, eyes glistening with near-tears. The charcoal snapped, sliding thick and out of place down the canvas.

“Alright, ok,” Sara placated and stood, legs shaking as she approached the bed. Ei latched onto her with urgency, tugging until they fell together, crying out when the taller woman pressed charcoal-smudged hands to her skin.

Sara painted lines of black and grey across her body, streaking down her sides as she settled on her stomach, biting at flesh and burying deep between bruised thighs.

The drawing beside the bed sat untouched for the remainder of the evening, though Sara hadn’t had the heart to make changes later. It looked as though Ei were emerging out of smog, the clear cut of her face and torso alluring enough to disregard the way Sara’s lines grew shaky and imprecise.

Captivating where she lay— the whispers of pleasure on her swollen lips.

[012345678910111213141501]

Reminiscences and Reflections

STORY 1 Tumblr Blog Title: Fragments of Memory

The last time I saw her, it was a brief and vivid moment which was permanently imprinted in the recesses of my recollection. It was a dark evening, with orange and pink hues painting the sky, reflecting my inner turmoil. She positioned herself at the boundary of the platform, her outline contrasting with the scenery of trains departing in the background.

We had spent innumerable times together there, beneath the ancient clock tower's guarded gaze, its hands indicating the passing of intangible moments. But things weren't the same this time. The weight of the approaching farewell was palpable this time.

Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears as she turned to face me, reflecting my own feelings exactly. The cacophony of voices buzzed through the platform, but for that instant, all I could hear was the deafening silence of our unsaid words.

"I'll miss you," she said in a whisper that was hardly audible over the sound of the approaching train.

I wanted to cling to her, to seize this fleeting moment, and never let go. However, life has a terrible way of tearing us apart, much like two ships that are meant to sail in different oceans.

With a final call resonating throughout the station, the train screeched to a stop. I watched her board, her figure vanishing into the sea of faces, with a heavy heart. And she was gone in an instant.

I clung to the shards of our shared moments, though, even as the train moved away and took her away from me. The tears, the laughter, and the whispered promises lingered in the back of my mind, unable to be forgotten.

I found myself following the traces of our past love as it faded away in the days that followed. I strolled down the same streets where we used to go hand in hand, hoping to see her recognizable smile. However, the city didn't change and didn't care that my chest hurt. She was no longer simply a part of my present, but rather a memory of a past I would never be able to reclaim, as the days grew into weeks.

Nevertheless, as time moved me farther away from that moment on the platform, I clung to the hope that our paths would eventually cross again—somewhere, in a far-off part of the globe.

Keep checking back as we add more memories and transmedia content to this blog.

Title: Living in a Fragments of Memory Author: Feedia URL: https://medium.com/@feedia/living-in-a-fragments-of-memory-3058e573e22

Title: Pieces Fall into Place Author/Artist: Fragments of Memories URL: https://fragmentsofmemories.bandcamp.com/album/pieces-fall-into-place

STORY 2

Tumblr Blog Title: Paws and Memories

My memories of the last time I saw him are ingrained in my soul and continue to cause me emotional distress. It was a bright afternoon with dappled patterns on the lush green grass in our backyard caused by golden sunlight penetrating through the tree canopy. His eyes reflected the love and loyalty that had characterized our relationship as he lay there, his fur gleaming in the sunlight. Max was my devoted friend who had supported me through all of life's highs and lows. Numerous experiences had been had by us, including playdates in the park and leisurely afternoons spent curled up on the sofa. But as the years went by, time had its effect, and his previously limitless energy started to fade. Nothing could have prepared me for the depth of grief that overcame me as I watched him struggle to stand up, even though I knew that our time together was almost over. He was no longer the lively puppy he once was; instead, his movements were laborious and slow. Even so, there was a quiet dignity about him that belied his frailty and revealed the depth of his spirit. I was kneeling next to him and caressing his fur as I felt the weight of what was about to happen bear down on me. When a friend has been your joy, your confidant, and your constant companion, how do you say goodbye? Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I whispered words of love and gratitude, my voice choked with emotion. His eyes were full of understanding as he looked up at me, almost as if he were telling me it was alright to let go and that our relationship would last long after this life on Earth. I took him into my arms with trembling hands, holding him close one last time, memorizing every hair on his furry face. And knowing that he would always have a particular place in my heart, I felt at ease as I pressed my cheek against his fur. I realized it was time to say goodbye as the sun began to set and the world began to glow in shades of orange and pink. His weight served as a physical reminder of the depth of our connection as I carried him to the car with a heavy heart. And knowing that my dear friend would always be a part of me and a treasured memory that would reverberate in the depths of my heart, I silently prayed for him as we drove away, leaving behind the comfortable sights and sounds of home.

Stay tuned for more reflections and transmedia elements to be added to this blog.

Title: Golden Retriever Publisher: Daily Paws URL: https://www.dailypaws.com/dogs-puppies/dog-breeds/golden-retriever

Title: Surf Photographer Ben Moon's Tribute to His Dying Dog Publisher: SLR Lounge URL: https://www.slrlounge.com/surf-photographer-ben-moons-tribute-to-his-dying-dog/

STORY 3

Tumblr Blog Title: Echoes of Friendship

When I last saw her, it was like a moment captured in time, a memory of a friendship that had persevered through life's ups and downs. It was a cool autumn morning, with a hint of nostalgia and the smell of fallen leaves in the air. She was standing there, a ray of warmth in the chilly weather thanks to her contagious smile.

She was not just a friend; she was also my confidante, my crime-solving partner, and my support system during difficult times. We had bonded through secrets, dreams, laughter, and tears that went beyond simple friendship.

However, as fate would have it, life had other ideas and was drawing us in different directions every day. And as we stood there, looking at each other, I realized how fleeting and precious this moment was—like the last rays of sunlight before dusk falls.

With a soft but melancholic voice, she said, "I'll miss you." I nodded, not knowing how to put into words how deeply I felt. How do you say goodbye to someone who has supported you through difficult times and been a constant in your life?

We hugged and held on to one another like we were trying to float atop the impending wave of change. Her embrace was a silent vow to always keep our friendship close to her heart, no matter where she goes. And then it was time to part ways, far too soon. We shared a final glance and a silent exchange of unsaid words and memories. I felt a part of my heart leave with her as she walked away and vanished into the crowd.

I found myself walking in our footsteps again in the days that followed, comforting myself with the warmth of our shared moments and the echoes of our laughter. However, despite my best efforts, I was unable to get rid of the lingering sense of emptiness that her absence left behind.

However, I clung to the hope that our friendship would endure despite our growing distance from one another—a ray of hope amid the uncertainty. Her presence would always linger in the recesses of my heart, despite the fact that she was no longer by my side—a testament to the enduring power of genuine friendship.

And as I saw her fade into the distance, I realized that our friendship would endure no matter where life took us—a testament to the beauty of friendship in all its forms.

Watch this space for additional reflections and transmedia features coming soon to this blog.

Title: Friendship Stock Photos Publisher: Adobe Stock URL: https://stock.adobe.com/ca/search?k=friendship

Title: Friendship Stock Photos Publisher: Adobe Stock URL: https://stock.adobe.com/search?k=friendship

[sunsetfell]

Bus Journeys

Continued from The Voice (full story).

My mother called, but I ignored it. I was on the bus to work, and I hate letting strangers hear my private business.

She didn’t used to understand this, assuming the bus was an excuse to avoid awkward conversations. But lately I am blunt when my true aim is to avoid her, so she understands I don’t need excuses.

Later that day I had another blank spot.

My office is a cement cube of a building that we call Stalin’s Garage, behind the Township’s main offices. It is a tan and dusty place inside.

Three coworkers and I had a meeting that day in the ground-floor conference room, which is poorly lit yet comforting due to its smallness—like it’s trying to reassure you with an awkward hug. We watched Diane write figures on the white-board, copying statistics from an end-of-the-month report.

The meeting was long, and I allowed my eyes to trace the outline of Diane’s black polo shirt against the beige wall. Her shoulders had an aesthetic curve—I wondered, did her husband appreciate them? She was in her fifties and he in his sixties. Diane put no effort in her appearance each morning, prioritizing convenience. She shared this habit with my single male coworkers—those who orbited my desk in the afternoon, men who had seemingly never purchased a shirt since adolescence and relied exclusively on free giveaways from conventions. But unlike those men, Diane aspired to attract no one, content in the uninviting aura of the stern Court Administrator she was. Still, she had nice shoulders, and I hoped I was not the only one to look fondly at their silhouette.

As I continued my listless gaze, I grew aware that Jay, the youngest of my coworkers—ten years younger than me and yet somehow the least able to leave me alone at my desk—was no longer in the room. He and his dull red cushioned chair were gone. A blank spot.

A voice inside me gave off a long, sad sigh. I had hoped that blank spots were just a passing phase (as I hoped with the voice). But here, again, they were.

I turned my gaze from Diane’s shoulders to the space where Jay wasn’t. Two times before, this act had broken the spell—but not this time. Clearly, Jay was not there. Javier and Bernadette were there. But Jay, and the space he once occupied, had simply been erased.

I spoke to Diane:

“Where’s Jay?”

Diane paused and looked at the white-board rather than at me.

“I only have up to part H,” she replied after a moment, glancing at her notes. “I don’t have a part J.”

“No, my coworker Jay,” I clarified.

Diane looked at me, and I nearly suffocated in the blankness of her gaze.

“Is he in your department?”

So I dropped the subject.

Riding the bus home that evening, the red sun behind me lit up a white sign bearing the words STEINBERG & ASSOCIATES, PUBLIC ACCOUNTANTS and turned it into an announcement for some ancient, now defunct royal palace—with me being led to it, either as a royal guest or a prisoner. I stared at it and hoped it would not disappear into a blank spot, which it didn’t. Then the bus passed it by.

Walking the concrete path from the bus stop to my house, my phone buzzed with an email from work. It was Diane:

Sorry for emailing you after work, Shreya. I wanted to apologize for making us both look silly today. I realized when I got home that of course you meant Jay from our team, who was at the meeting. I don’t know why I couldn’t figure that out at the time. He must have stepped out to use the bathroom when you asked. Sorry again, Diane

It didn’t matter how stern she looked; Diane was a decent person. And she had nice shoulders.

[sabraeal]

Get Up Eight, Chapter 8

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2021, Day 1: The Fool Upright: Beginnings, Innocence, Fearlessness Reversed: Recklessness, Folly, Risk 

Pine presses around the road to Oiso, jostling with the hackberry like meddling neighbors, eager to see misfortune. Their branches chatter in the breeze, gossiping behind needled hands, and oh, what misfortune Obi has for them to gnaw their toothy mouths upon, traveling with this sorry lot.

This stretch of road is meant to be the shortest; less than the length between bells, but each minute sweats to an hour, the natural flow of time no longer a given but a whim. Maybe they met with some accident, doomed to wander the same stretch of barren road over and over until some monk came to exorcise them-- or else all the priests are wrong, and the road to Meido is no mountainous path, but a road that winds around one barely deserving of the name. And with them but a day into their journey--

No. Not even he can believe such a story. For no matter how red his hands or black his spirit, he could not have earned such miserable oni on his chuuin as the monkey and his merry band. Besides, there is too much light here. Even the virtuous must navigate the dark with but a candle’s light to guide them, lit by the ones they left in life, and he, well--

He wouldn’t even have that.

Ojou-san hobbles in front of him, pretending her mincing steps have to do with the wrap of her kimono rather than the bindings on her feet. A creditable trick, in the right hands-- too bad his mistress was no actress. A man would have to be worse than a fool to believe it.

With every limping step, she jingles; her pack clanking against the swell of her hip. A wounded deer, gingerly testing each spindly leg to see if it would bear her yet another breath further. The monkey’s men circle her like crows waiting for carrion, though the scent they follow is not death but gold.

Idiots, every last one of them. They are too busy salivating over the meal in her pack to notice she does not tremble as she walks, that even if each step is a labor, she does not shy from taking it. Lame deer she may be, but Obi is not fooled-- more than once he has stopped at the shine at Nara, and found his netsuke noticeably lighter. His mistress is like that; so tame and docile at first glance that no one watches where those small hands go, nor notices the lies that tip from her lips.

Because they do; not with the ease of a practiced liar, but the earnest determination of a survivor. Cousin there may be in Kyoto, but Obi would bet what remains of his ryo that he didn’t know about the books in her pack. A good little ojou-san might know some remedies-- a salve to stave off infection or a powder to quell a fever, the kind a mother would use to treat her child-- but they certainly didn’t read about rampo in the original Dutch.

No, if Obi had his guess, this cousin-dono knew nothing about the sweet visitor that traveled toward him. They’d arrive at his doorstep in Kyoto, and he’d have the same view he has now, standing three respectful steps behind her as she faces the future with a strong back, and standing on two--

Ojou-san stumbles. One moment she is upright, and the next he’s surged forward, hand clasped around an elbow to steady her. It’s just like her wrist; narrow and delicate, like it might break under his grasp. His breath catches, his eyes meeting her wide ones--

“Careful, ‘Nee-san.”

Obi blinks, and there it is-- the monkey’s mocking grin, one paw wrapped around her other arm. “It’d be easy to turn an ankle on these old roads.”

Every word cants with careful concern, but the glint in his eye is three hairs away from anything more than hunger. This ronin can pretend to be samurai all he likes, but desperation drips from him like water in a kappa’s dish, and it’s Obi’s job to see his ojou-san does not get soaked.

With a firm tug, Obi settles her on her feet-- and out of the monkey’s reach. “Don’t worry, we’ll reach Oiso-juku soon, Ojou-san.”

She sends one of her thoughtful looks down the road, brow furrowed and lip jutting in a pout. “They really aren’t all that far apart at all, are they? If we hadn’t been slowed by--” my blistered feet, she doesn’t say, jaw taking an even more determined set-- “circumstance, we would be there by now.”

Obi nods, watching as she takes a single, mincing step. “Shortest leg of the journey.”

“I wonder why that is.” In any other mouth, those words would be idle, a way to fill the air. But not in his ojou-san’s; oh no, her gaze has already sharpened, scouring the shrubbery as if it might hold answers.

“Hard to say.” Keeping pace with her is a trial; he’s used to long strides, using every last inch of his leg to put ri between him and what he left behind, but between her blisters and her curiosity, Ojou-san moves as slow as a snail’s crawl. “If I had a guess, it would be the mountain?”

“Mountain?” Ojou-san should be hiding those eye of hers with a convincing demure, but instead she turns them to him, wide and wondrous. Not that he’d be caught complaining, not when all her attention is bent on him, as if he’s her next puzzle to solve.

The monkey scoffs, insinuating himself a branch too close for comfort. “Mount Koma? It’s barely more than a hill, and we’re walking around it, not up.”

Obi’s lips peel back from his teeth, a wolf’s grin. “I never said we were. But if you look down the road from Hiratsuka, what would you see?”

“A mountain,” Ojou-san murmurs, sending a speculative glance toward where Koma rose beside them. “And if you do not often travel the road, it would be easy to mistake this for running through it.”

“Well said, Ojou-san. Hakone is nearby, too.” Obi lets his lips soften from animal to man. “And its reputation marks it as the hardest climb. Even a thinking man might take this stretch as much the same.”

“Absurd.” The monkey scowls, hands hooking over his hips. “That might explain the shukuba at Oiso, but on the other side they would know the road’s ease.”

“That’s the funny thing about roads.” He casts the monkey a cagey smile, enjoying the way his fur stands on end. “They run both ways.”

The pines thin as they walk, the air taking on its first taste of salt, so thick and stinging that a man doesn’t even need to be Ojou-san’s kind of polite to think so. Oiso is close then; its bay must be the scent of the sea on the breeze. Good. He’ll be glad of the chance to shuck himself of their escort and his easy manners.

A bridge crests ahead of them, little more than some boards patched over the sluggish stream that runs beneath. Nothing like the great wooden arcs in Edo, made for palanquins to pass, great processions crawling over both sides like ships passing in the night. So it’s no surprise Ojou-san falters at its edge, blinking down at the lazy waters below. A deer again, hesitant and shy.

A warmth kindles where his kimono gaps too much to cover, a tightness that he cannot swallow away. Obi raises a hand to scratch, coughs to clear it, but stubbornly it stays, lodged right in his breast. An inconvenience, one that should be smothered as a seed rather than allowed to grow like kudzu on the shore. Ojou-san paid for his skill and what loyalty gold could buy, not...this. She is his duty, not a pleasure.

Even if he sees that bead dripping down her back when he closes his eyes still. Obi grips at his shoulder and stifles a groan. Twenty days. Three weeks until he is six ryo richer, and this girl is in the hands of her cousin instead of dancing out of the grip of his.

He steps up, hand outstretched. It’s his job to see her over, safe and sound, and it would be just like her to bend over a hair too far and let herself be swept away by the current, small as it is. But his hand clasps around air instead of elbow, and when he looks--

The monkey has her, guiding her along at a leisurely stroll. She stumbles to keep up even still, only getting her feet beneath her when he stops, staring up at the maples swaying overhead.

“Known to me who had denied joy and sorrow of this world,” he intones, every syllable rolling with the cultured tones of Edo. “Is the autumn scene of the rivulet where sandpipers walk at dusk.”

Obi lifts a brow, peering down at the water’s edge. Salt might be on the air, but there’s not a sandpiper to be seen this far from the shore.

Ojou-san is too kind, as always, nearly turning those wide doe eyes to him before remembering herself. They skitter downwards instead, to where leaves skim the stream’s surface. “What is that?”

The monkey’s heavenly gaze drops to her, smiling within unearned satisfaction. “I’m surprised you don’t know, onee-san. I thought you well read.”

Ojou-san stiffens, hands curling over the rough-hewn rail. “Well enough. Though I must admit, I never spent much time on poets.”

His eyes blink wide. “Not even Saigyo?”

“No.” She ducks her chin, the very picture of a demure young lady, but Obi knows-- her rosy cheeks are not from a docile temper. “But he was...a monk, was he not?”

His mouth curls wide, the self-satisfied smile of a master with a well-taught pupil. Obi’s hands itch watching it unfurl, tempted to give monkey-sensei a lesson he won’t soon forget.

“Yes,” he hums, chin lifted with a lord’s poise. “Of the Heian era. The story goes that he used to be one of the Emperor’s personal guards, but one day he shed himself of his worldly desires to dedicate himself to the temple.”

Obi stifles a snort. He’s had clients that made him feel the same more than once.

“He lived here, after, in a little hut just upstream, hidden away from the world, writing waka, meditating on the loneliness of change.” The monkey stares down the length of the stream. “A haikai dojo stands there now, built hundred of years later in his honor. Even Basho was inspired by his writings...”

Obi peers over the bridge’s edge, letting the monkey’s babble roll over him like a ceaseless river. The stream does much the same below, curving gently into the distance, disappearing into a cloud of summer green maple. Even with his sharp eyes, he cannot see this dojo, nor any hut where a monk might sit and spend his life thinking in verse.

Probably because Shigitatsu-an sits on another rivulet entirely, further toward the sea. Something this monkey might know, if he traveled this road; the stone in the middle of town proclaims it, bright as day. Still, Obi holds his tongue. A dagger to the chest might miss, but given enough rope, an idiot always hangs himself.

“For all his shedding of worldly trappings,” Obi hums, sauntering up to where the pair of them stand, “looks like this Saigyo was fond of them.”

Sweet as his words were, the monkey’s mouth turns sour fast enough. “He lived his life in quiet contemplation of nature, dwelling upon the sadness of seasons passing--”

Obi lifts an infuriating eyebrow. “Which he couldn’t do at a temple?”

The monkey’s mouth opens, then closes. “Some people,” he sniff haughtily, “do not understand the artistic process.”

Thatched roofs peek above the shukuba’s gates as they round the bend, hazy in the distance, like close-clinging clouds above Sagami Bay. Salt coats Obi’s mouth as they tread closer, stinging his nose, but today the taste savors of relief-- only mere moments now until Ojou-san can take her rest, and he can shuck these unwanted pests.

The monkey strolls beside Ojou-san, his voice smugly pitched for all to hear: “It’s too bad it isn’t raining.”

Oh, the hour cannot come soon enough. “Really?” Obi slides an easy grin onto his face. “I didn’t think monkeys liked to get their feet wet.”

“M-monkey?!” If looks could smell, the one this Mihaya levels at him would reek; growing even more rank with every giggle Ojou-san stifles. “Funny words coming from a stray cat!”

Obi shrugs, a production of shoulder and head worthy of the stage. “It was not my lips that begged the kami for rains.”

“Not mine either!” The monkey turns to Ojou-san with his mild, scholar stare. “I only meant it would be fitting. Hiroshige drew rains when he made his print of Oiso, falling on the travelers as they entered the shukuba. A light drizzle, of course, nothing to get--” he cuts a pointed glare over his shoulder-- “any paws wet.”

“Ah!” Ojou-san brightens, fingers fluttering joyfully before her. “I have seen that. Ojii-san...”

It’s as if the name were a spell; invoked, it steals the words from her lips, leaving only air to part them. They round again, forming the shape of ojii-san, before pressing tight once more. Obi has only known her mere days, but her grandfather’s legacy seems only to be the knuckles that blanch around her bag’s strap at the barest mention of his name.

A subtlety lost on the monkey prancing next to her. “He called it Tora’s Rain, after the lover of Soga no Juro. Do you know that story, onee-san?”

Obi restrains a roll of his eyes; it’s more of an effort than any of the monkey’s men bother to make. There’s not a child alive who isn’t raised upon the Soga Monogatari, even if the details blend in the telling, each domain vying to put their stamp upon a piece of history.

“Ah...” Ojou-san blinks, her spell disappearing in the bat of an eye. “Oiso no Tora, you mean? The courtesan?”

Again, the monkey-sensei puffs with a teacher’s pride. “The very same. She was raised here, it’s said, after her father prayed to Benzaiten for a child, and she gave to him a stone--”

“He asked for a child and she gave him a stone?” Obi smothers a smile to a twitch. “Seems he got the better end of the bargain.”

“--And she gave to him a stone as a sign the child would be born,” the monkey continues, voice pitched above his. “As O-Tora grew, so did the stone. When the Soga brothers sheltered at her home, it shielded them from--”

“Is this before or after they ambushed a man in his sleep?” Obi asks, deadpan.

That is, it seems, the final straw. The idiot rounds on him, voice dropping into a growl as common as the gutter he grew up in. “A tyrant, for revenge. Kuto-sama murdered their father and took his lands. No honorable man-- no, no bushi-- could let such an insult stand.” Something dark moves beneath the eyes of monkey-dono when he adds, “even if it took years.”

With only a breath, his face smooths back into the scholar’s, the samurai’s learned son. “That rock is still here, should you want to see it.”

Ojou-san smiles, eyes soft with understanding. “You must like this story quite a bit, Mihaya-dono, if you want to see O-Tora’s stone.”

“Me?” His brows raise, two neat little arches. They’re meant to be surprised, but it’s almost as if the angle of them is wrong, a degree off from being sincere. “I meant for you, onee-san. It’s a talisman for fertility.”

Her eyes round. “Oh--!”

“After all, you are now on the way to your husband.” There is a razor’s edge to his smile when he says, “Surely he is looking forward to being so blessed.”

Not unless her cousin has plans for her that he hasn’t seen fit to inform her of. Not an unlikely, knowing the way men think of their women-- though the idea has never occurred to Ojou-san, by the way she gapes.

“Ah!” She glances back at him, helpless. “N-no. That definitely won’t be...necessary.”

Another shadow passes over the monkey’s face, leaving behind a grin that glints as cold as coin. “You don’t say, onee-san...”

Ojou-san tucks into his side as they pass through the sekisho, her head and heart bowed demurely while the doshin glance at her papers. It’s cursory; this is no Hakone to demand papers so spotless they gleam. Still, she shivers when Kino’s permissions leave his hands, and doesn’t stop until they’re tucked back into his sleeves.

The monkey casts her a speculative look when he strolls through, the kind he’s been giving her more and more of as the day wears on. That’s fine enough; he can ponder Ojou-san’s mystery while he and his men wander down the rest of the route, alone.

That brings a smile to Obi’s lips. “Well, we’ll be leaving first.”

The wide eyes monkey-dono turn to him are only rivaled by the ones his ojou-san does. “Obi-dono, what do you mean?”

“We’re stopping here for the night.” He jerks his chin toward a particularly clean looking hatago. “How about that one, Ojou-san? Does it meet your expectations?”

“Yes, b-but...” Her mouth works, searching for the shape of the words that rattle between her teeth. “But why?”

“Ojou-san...” His gaze drops to where her tabi peek out from beneath her kimono’s hem, pink with her blood even through the bandages. “You’re in no condition to continue. Our best course is to rest. But I’m sure--” he can’t help the smug sneer he turns the monkey’s way-- “these men are eager to make good time. It’s a long journey to the capital, and time is money.”

The monkey’s mouth purses, trapped. Unless he wants to admit that he has no business besides following Ojou-san and her purse, making a lie of his casual coincidence-- well, there is no way to graciously decline.

Lucky for him, Ojou-san spares him the footwork. “We’ve barely walked an hour since Hiratsuka.” Her shoulders set like a shogun bent on battle. “You said you wanted to reach Odawara tonight.”

He inhales sharply, annoyed. “That was before--” we collected men better left in the gutter.

True as it is, it will not please his ojou-san. Not when she is so determined to see samurai in every ronin she meets. A different tack is needed if he wants to convince her.

“Ojou-san,” he soothes. “There is no shame in stopping. You should take care of yourself, or else we will have to spend more time waiting for you to recover later.”

The set of her jaw informed him this is not it.

“I can make it,” she insists, because of course she would, this young woman of quality who carried her heaviest pack on her back. “I won’t be the one to slow us down.”

“Plenty of travelers stop at every station.” He gestures to the crowd around them, to their leisurely pace. “Perhaps we should consider it, if--”

“And spend fifty-three days to get to Kyoto?” She arches a brow, a reflection of his own. “I’m not paying you near enough for that, Obi-dono.”

His jaw clenches. He only needs to convince her of one night extra, enough to be rid of these knives at their throat, but... “Ojou-san...”

“I don’t mean to pry,” the monkey says, insinuating himself between them. “But there is plenty of daylight left. If jou-chan wants to move on we should. There are better places to rest, if she needs it.” His teeth flash as he suggests, “Hakone, for one. It’s said that their hot springs are healing indeed.”

“Ah, see?” Ojou-san brightens, a quelling hand laid on his sleeve. “Hot springs! That seems like a fine place to take an extra day.”

Obi glares as the monkey hops around behind her, too elated for him to trust. “I don’t think--”

“And it’s better to travel in groups,” the monkey offers, pressing his advantage. “Six people is certainly safer than two.”

Obi frowns. “That depends on who the other four are.”

“It’s decided then,” Ojou-san says brightly, hands clapping together. “We’ll push on to Odawara. And when we reach Hakone, we can rest as long as you like.”

Obi takes in a deep breath, boiling as the monkey grins at him, triumphant. “If that’s what you want, Ojou-san.”

“You heard jou-chan,” the monkey mutters as he prances past, victorious. “It is.”

[cheekygreenty]

I Know You part 2 - The Darkling x Reader

I knowwwww I took my time writing this but I think it deserves another part? Let me know 🥰

Read part 1 here.

You missed the warmth of the Little Palace and you hated that you missed Aleksander's warm embraces even more. As the tracker led you further up north, Alina and Mal reminisced on old memories and ultimately you stopped listening and kept to yourself, leaving you at the mercy of your own thoughts which were solely devoted to your intense betrayal. How could I of been so blind? You loved this man with your whole being and up until a week ago you would've gone to the ends of the earth for him and he had the audacity to lie to you. My Aleksander never existed, he was a figment of my imagination.

'Let's set up camp here.' Mal said putting his pack down with a wince. His shoulder was still badly wounded, your poor patching up did little to soften the pain. You pulled out your provisions and shared them with the others, thinking back as to whether selling the horse was a wise decision for mere hardtack.

'What do you think the General will do once he finds you with me?'' Alina never mentioned Aleksander's name and you guessed it was to avoid being questioned by Mal.

'Probably brand me a traitor and kill me.' You faced the truth head-on 'He was about to lock me away before I escaped and I'm guessing he's even angrier now.' You blurted as you chewed on the flavorless biscuit.

'Why are you here then? You can get away from Ravka, go to Ketterdam and never look back.'

'He'll find me, Alina. I might as well do something meaningful before I die.'

'What if he won't kill you?' Mal spoke up.

'I'd rather he did.' The thought of being Aleksander's prisoner struck a somber note in you and not for the reason they assumed. You didn't trust yourself enough to keep up your broken heart in Aleksander's presence for too long, that kind of love doesn't fade and around him, you were a slave to that emotion.

'We'll find the Stag and I can defeat him Y/N.' Alina sounded hopeful but at her words, you recoiled. Firstly, you knew she would fail, possibly killing Mal in the process but secondly, her statement ignited a brief spark of anger in you, a feeling of protectiveness for the man that was willing to take your life away from you. Stop being foolish. The man has killed countless times and will continue to commit atrocities in the name of power. You're better than that.

The rest of the night carried on as usual, Alina applying a salve to Mal's wound and you sitting against a tree, contemplating your life. Perhaps you should go to Ketterdam. You have connections there that would hopefully prevent you from becoming an indenture, but those connections could be used against you, a way for Aleksander to find you. Perhaps Novyi Zem would work for you. Alina and Mal had spoken about escaping there if she failed to defeat the Darkling, but you knew it was pointless. You had been by his side long enough to know there was truly no way you could hide and survive.

You know the parts of me that I showed you. His words echoed in your head as you tried to settle to sleep. Although you had uncovered his true face, you clung to his words like a lifeline. He showed you his loving side, he told you his name and his complicated relationship with Baghra, his mother. He trusted you with those things and he loved you, so he said. I do love you.

The tears came once again like they did every night. You had quickly come to understand that Alina and Mal were blind to your waterworks and were under the impression you hated Aleksander and wanted him dead as much as they did. If only they knew you fell asleep dreaming of his arms around you, whispering sweet nothings like he always did.

The snow was a thick blanket now as you approached the Fjerdan border. Mal was certain the Stag would be found any day now and with each passing moment spent dredging through the snow, you cursed your decision of coming with them. You haven't been of much use to the pair on the journey anyway, except letting the wind carry the smoke away when the fire was burning or blowing snow out from the trees when you settled for camp, but Alina insisted you were necessary. From Mal's behavior, you gathered he felt uneasy around two Grisha, so maybe Alina wanted you here to know she wasn't alone and her powers weren't strange.

You listening half-heartedly as she explained to Mal she was the one who needed to kill the animal but stopped when you heard a rustling in the distance.

'That way' Mal noticed too

'Hang on'

'What are you doing'

'I need to get closer to it' You blocked them out, your senses wholely devoted to watching the magnificent Stag. Saints, it's even more beautiful than I imagined it.

You saw her reach out and touch its snout, a light dome so bright erupting from their contact you shielded your eyes away. In doing so, you noticed the faint outline of a blue kefta in the trees, quickly heading for you.

'NO' you tried to block the shot but it was too late, the dome fell apart.

'The animal is not meant for you' Zoya bellowed as she fought to secure the stag.

You fought her in return, desperately attempting to knock her and the others off their feet but two strong hands caught you, restricting your movement.

'Take her' You heard his voice before you saw the contrast of his black attire against the snow. You fought against the soldier keeping you trapped, thrashing and kicking with all you could muster, completely ignoring the screams and shouts erupting from Mal and Alina.

He came to face you, eyeing you up and down, as if searching for any injuries. Even in the dark, you noticed the tiredness evident in his eyes with a hint of desperation. But no relief or love directed to you.

'Ivan, subdue her' was the last thing you registered before your eyes closed shut and deep sleep came over you.

***

You woke with a start, having felt no time pass in your dream-lacking slumber. The snow from earlier was replaced by lavish silks and drapes in a warm tent, his tent. You would recognize the eclipse sign from a mile away, especially on the embroidered cushion beneath your head or on the buttons of the coat you were donning. His kefta. He must’ve put it in you while you were passed out.

There were no cuffs around your wrists or restraints around your ankles as you lay in his comfortable cot surrounded by the sound of a crackling fire in the stove that always brought some level of comfort to you.

There was nobody in the tent with you, but you suspected a guard was posted by the entrance flap to ensure you didn't try anything stupid. You hesitated to get up. Will he be waiting for me? You didn't want to face him or fight him. The thoughts of a civil conversation with him withered away the more you reflected on your throbbing feeling of betrayal, but there was still that small voice in the back of your head, or rather your heart, that wanted to forget about everything and just lay with him like you did every night. The conflict caused you to cry yet again that night for exactly the same reasons as before.

You finally got up once the last tears dropped, your light footsteps carrying you over to the small fruit bowl sitting by the lamps. It was rewarding to taste the sweetness of a grape after so much time spent eating hardtack and hard cheese, all Saints willing, you'd never have to look at those things again. You heard the tent flap open and slowly, you turned to face Aleksander.

'You've been crying.' He observed and took off his heavy cape, laying it carelessly on the cot you had just slept in and standing away from you, keeping his distance although his own heart dropped to see you in such a state.

'Do you blame me?' Your voice was strong despite your appearance,

'I hope you are well-rested. The journey here mustn't've been very kind to you.'

'It was better than being your prisoner and rotting away in a cell in the Little Palace.'

'Do you really think so lowly of me Y/N?'

'I don't know what to think Aleksander.' You hugged his huge kefta closer to your body, enjoying being enveloped by his scent. Another thing that brought you comfort.

'I never lied when I said I love you.' His voice grew softer but you willed yourself to ignore it. The small voice told you to run up to him, kiss him, hold him and tell him you loved him too, but the logical part kept you firmly planted in your place.

'If I recall correctly, you said 'I love you but'...'

'You never stuck around to what I wanted to say next.'

'I doubt it would have fixed this.' You gestured to the lengthy space between your bodies and he took it as an opportunity to walk closer to you.

'Is there anything we can do to fix this?' He asked desperately and your heart leaped in your chest but it didn't last long as his hand caught your attention, The Stag.

The realization flooded over you with a jolt of pain for the second time in two weeks. Unable to hold it back, a bone-shattering sob erupted from you at the impending doom he was about to unleash on Ravka.

His eyes followed your own with anguish so obvious it hurt him, but he had to avert them fearing if he watched your pained expression any longer, he would rip out the amplifier himself without a second thought just to stop the heart-breaking sobs shaking your body. He reached out for you but stopped himself, the last thing she needed was his comfort of all people, he thought.

But you yearned for him despite the situation, so when he stepped closer once again, you rested your head on his chest still uncontrollably crying.

‘Why are you doing this’ your hands now held a deathly grip on his shirt, but all he could think about was the fact that you sought his touch out first, maybe there is some hope left.

‘For Ravka, for all Grisha.’ The answer felt automated and scripted but it was all that remained of his goal. There was nothing else, no one else, that would benefit from this except him and her.

He wrapped one arm around you and when you didn’t pull away, his other arm went to your waist, pulling you close and pressing his lips to the top of your head in an attempt to soothe you. Ironically, it had the exact opposite effect as you cried even harder because despite everything he’d done and everything he was about to do, you didn’t want to leave his side.

The conflict was rampant in your head and part of the shed tears were in an effort to calm your mind.

‘I’m going on a skiff journey across to Novokribirsk in a couple days. I wish for you to go back to the Little Palace.’ He spoke but didn’t loosen his comforting hold on you.

‘Why?’ You managed to croak out.

‘You want to come with me?’

‘I don’t know’

‘Let’s sleep. You’ve had a long day.’ He only briefly let you go to take off the kefta he placed on you earlier, but he was right back at your side as you settled against his chest on the cot. Although you had only just woken up from Ivan's induced sleep, your mind was tired from the self-hate your logical side spewed at you.

‘This is wrong. They’ll hate me for this.’ I hate myself for this.

‘If it is so wrong then tell me to go away. I’ll listen.’ You knew he would but you wanted him here with you.

‘Were you ever going to tell me?’

‘Yes. But I stopped myself after seeing how happy you were. I couldn’t bring myself to stop that.’

‘And look where it brought us. Look at me now.’ You raised your head from his chest and looked him in his onyx eyes. They radiated affection and forgiveness, both of which you were ready to give him. I’m a fool for this.

‘And I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy Y/N.’ The determination in his voice pulled at your heart, for the next thing you knew your lips were on his, kissing him as if there was no tomorrow.

-----

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added !!)

@aleksanderwh0r3 @theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld @0-artemis @exo-1204 @staradorned @bookfrog242 @simp-for-ben-barners @keepdaydreamingbb @acciorudolphx @pansysgirlfriend @pansysgirlfriend @justmesadgirl @theriveroftruth

[kusagrasskusa]

Fell! Sans X Reader - "Boss is gonna kill me-"

Here at the Hamilcult, we support fluff fanfics in cringy fandoms that likely implement OOC cannon characters. That was sarcasm but even so, just know that this might be sorta OOC and this is fluff :3

Also, prepare for a Wattpad level written story and a shitty plot. I just got done writing a 7000 worded fanfic and frankly, I need a b r e a k.

Forgive me for I have sinned writing this

~~~~~~~

Y/N yawned, rubbing her tired eyes before laying back on her chair. She sunk deep into her warm coat, the fluffy fur on the hood making her feel more relaxed. The coat was oversized black and red with big pockets, perfect for a human in a place like Snowdin. After all, at the post near the conveniently shaped lamp, Y/N was waiting in the blistering cold. Well, the scenery looked peaceful but it definitely was snowing and the air was terribly cold. The fur on the coat rubbed against her face, making her cheeks turn red from the contrast heat of it and the cold air.

She whined and pulled the coat over her head when a few snowflakes touched her face. "Cold," she mumbled tiredly. Y/N flipped her body to the side and whined again. This time, the problem was how uncomfortable her position was. So she tossed over to the other direction and laid her head against the chair. "...the chair is uncomfortable," she tiredly whined.

"If it's that bad then just fucking leave," a rough, annoyed voice spoke. It was Sans, the slightly taller skeleton with a red sweater on and without his coat. "I want my coat back anyway. You're getting ya' human scent in it and I don't want that kinda trouble," he continued. Y/N huffed and sat up straight. She was around his size to sat the least, but a bit thinner and shorter.

"But I thought you wanted me out here," she retorted. "You clearly get lonely here after a while so I wanted to stay with you."

"Yeah, well stayin' with me hasn't brought more customers, has it?" He replied, turning his head towards the younger girl. His red eyes seethe into her soul basically, but Y/N just giggled at his serious expression. The hood covered half her face so her eyes were widen, which they usually were. It's strange because even without the hoodie, something is always covering her eyes whether it's her hair or not. And without a barber in Snowdin and hundreds of people who want to murder her for being human, Y/N hair is bound to grow out anyway.

"You're so funny sometimes Sans," she complimented with a sweet smile on her face. "You have such a cute look when you're mad...well actually, I don't think I've ever seen you not mad before. I wonder what a genuine smile would look like..." she mumbled sleepily. Sans felt his cheeks light up a bit so he turned away from her, rolling his eyes. He wasn't used to such words at all.

"Huh?–" Sans jumped as he felt the girl's arms wrap around his body softly. She had slipped her arms out of the coat for Sans to out his arms in.

"Put the coat back on. It's big enough for me to fit back here," she giggled quietly as she rested her head on Sans's shoulder. Sans felt his fa e turn red and his body tense; he growled and turn his head towards her.

"I gave the damn thing to you, so wear it properly !"

"But you're cold and you're coat can fit us both."

"I don't care!" Sans hissed back, making Y/N giggled. The two friends often had times like this; wholesome and adorable with Sans getting all flustered. Sans barely even saw her a friend as he promised he would never let anyone get too close to him so he doesn't turn soft. But Y/N's persistent and sweet personality really struck him hard. Of course, he wouldn't go as far as to crush on her, right? No, their just good friends...

Y/N' cheeks puffed out and she pouted her lip like an upset toddler. "Sans, please? Just this once?" She asked as she squeezed him into a tighter hug. Sans scoffed and shook his head.

"No! What am I, some pueny pawn? I will not sink that fucking low," Sans seethed. Y/N was silent for a few moments before simply letting go of her tight grip and going lip against Sans's back. She head remained on his shoulder and luckily his sweater cushioned the feel of his bones, making this a comfortable position.

"I like this much better," she said tiredly with a warm smile on her face. Sans was sitting on a rather large chair that he got in order to find better sleeping situations without sliding off it, but because he was sitting on the edge of the chair, Y/N could easily slide behind him. She sat on her knees that were either side of him and yet it was so comfortable for her. "You're more comfortable than a chair." Her voice got lower and softer each time he spoke but it didn't lose its sweetness once.

"Yeah, well I ain't no damn pillow Y/N. Get the hell off me... Hello?" He asked when he didn't get a response. He turned his head to face the girl and saw her completely emersed into the dream world. It's true that he couldn't see her eyes, but he still could tell. He sighed heavily and turned his head in front of him.

"Huh‐ Ah!-" Y/N shrieked as she was pushed into the freezing snow.

"Ahahaha!" Sans laughed hard as he watched Y/N freak out. "I told you I wasn't no damn pillow!" He laughed as he put his hands on his knees. Y/N whined she stood straight up and glared at him. She walked over to him with a pout on her lip and lightly punched his arm.

"Hmph!" Sans chuckled at her adorable attempt at being angry and bopper her nose rough enough to push her away a bit.

"Was that supposed to make me feel bad, human? Well lemme tell ya', that just won't do," Sans spoke as his smile grew cockier.

"I wasn't even trying to hurt you, so don't start that," Y/N retorted. Sans rolled his eyes while he kept up his cocky smile. He shrugged and pu

"Yeah, sure. You fists are as strong as a fly's. You couldn't hurt me, even if you tried," he pushed. Y/N hmphed and shook her head. She pulled her arm back and punched him right in the shoulder as hard as her tired arm could. Sans just snickered and didn't even flinch.

"Wait, was that the best you got? I heard you humans are supposed to be strong." Sans shrugged his shoulders before pulling his hands out of his pockets and stretching. "Whatever, I guess it doesn't matter all that much. If you ever did decide to attack me, it's not like you'd live long enough to be able to lay a hit on me. And anyone else down here would have no problem given all they got to some little girl."

"I'm 20."

"Doesn't matter," Sans said as he put his hands back in his pockets. Y/N sighed and shook her head.

"You know I wouldn't hurt anyone down here as much as I know you wouldn't hurt me, Sans," her soft replied. To be honest, his name being spoken so sweetly had a good ring to Sans' ears.

"Yeah, well you can't blame me for being cautious. You humans put us down here, remember? You humans murdered so many monsters for no fucking reason then trapped the rest of us down here with your strong souls as aid. Then a few fallen human children came down here and either murdered a little, a large portion, or one of us. Still, you humans seem to be naturally turned to a genocide even though you have fucking everything you can possibly want on the surface. Us monsters have nothing, not even a real sun or moon, to make us happy, so our rage is justified." Sans finished his train of thought with a scowl; he turned his head towards the snow building up on the ground and glared at it. Y/N frowned, holding her arms to her chest.

"...Hey, Sans. It stopped snowing, so we don't have to worry about a blizzard keeping us from going to Grillby's," Y/N said as she looked out of the post, finally noticing the snow had stopped falling.

"Why would I worry about a blizzard? I got a shortcut that'll get us there in no time," he smirked and looked up at her. Y/N cocked her head questioning, humming. "Just follow me, aight," he spoke as he walked behind the post. Y/N caught up with him in no time while holding the sides of the coat close to together instead of zipping it. The sleeves just hung by her sides as she still wanted Sans to wear the coat with her cuddling up behind him, mostly because she could still use the hoode that way.

As they walked up to a tree, suddenly, Sans chuckled. The next moment, they were at the doorway of Grillby's and the absorbed by heat and warm light. Y/N looked around her frantically and confused, "how did you do that?"

"Ya humans got strong souls, us monsters have magic," he explained with a cocky smile. "Now let's go sit down at the bar instead of the booth this time. That drunk bunny annoys the shit outta me," he mumbled the last part as he walked over to the bar with Y/N following.

As she passed the dogs, one of them called out, "wait, is that a human? Isn't that the one we fought before?" It was Dogamy who spoke out, then causing her husband to talk back.

"I think so, yes, the one that turned into a puppy that liked to pet other dogs!"

Y/N giggled tiredly as she sat down at the bar besides Sans, listening on their conversation a few seconds longer before returning her focus to Sans alone. "I want a burger," she mumbled.

"Aight," Sans replied. He signaled for Grillby to walk over after he finished making a drink for another customer. The being of purple fire had what looked like a jagged white frown for a mouth, and he wore a skintight black vest with a white undershirt with rolled up sleeves and black jeans as his attire. He vest was also low cut, so an outline of his chest was visible. Although he had a serious tone, he definitely seemed like he could flirt successfully to any person he wanted.

"What," Grillby's echoy voice rung. The purple fire that made up his body flickered and cracked, making Y/N smile from the satisfying sound.

"Two burgers, put it on my tab," Sans replied, leaning on the counter with a mustard bottle in his hand. Grillby wrote down his order and walked towards the kitchen door with a "fire onlt" sign on it. He walked inside the kitchen and came out with a drink; it was F/D, something Y/N typically ordered when she came to the bar. He set the drink down in front of her.

"On the house," Grillby spoke. Y/N smiled softly at him, thanking him. "Tch," he responded before tending to other costumers. Grillby didn't really like Y/N, but he appreciated the little work and silence she brought him. She only spoke when spoken to, and she didn't order things that were hella hard to make and then complain about it. Sans growled, rolling his eyes.

"Fucking simp," he hissed. Y/N tilted her head, humming.

"Hmm? Why?" Y/N asked before taking a sip if her drink.

"He's losin' money by given out free drinks. And of anyone, to you."

"Well," Y/N smirked sweetly. "I come here a lot and that attracts monsters who want to see the human. So by being tourist attraction, he makes more money," she explained. Sans scoffed, his cheeks reddening.

"Whatever." Aww, our bebe skeleboi is jealous of the big, tall, muscular fire dude! Y/N giggled, patting him on the shoulder.

"I really appreciate you bringing me here with you. When you decide to pay your tab, remind me to contribute enough money to help." Sans shrugged, smirking.

"People like you are too nice down here, really."

"It feels nice to help someone."

"It's not so nice when people try to kill you over it," Sans retorted. Y/N frowned, nodding.

"I guess I didn't grow up down here so there isn't much for me to say, but I can't help but think everyone down here is kind but hurt. I mean, there's a lot about you I noticed that aren't so...pleasant, but you managed to treat me like a person with emotions and opinions. I doubt that of hundreds, you're the only one down here like that," she explained. Sans sighed again, rubbing his eyes.

"Like I said, people like you are too nice down here." Sans finished the conversation this way and then came a long moment of silence. In that time, Grillby came over with two plates with burgers on them. He set them in front of the two.

"Here."

"Thank you, Grillby," Y/N thanked with a warm smile on her face. Grillby silently nodded at her before walking away. She grabbed the ketchup and poured some on her burger, whereas Sans barely acknowledged what was happening around him. He was getting caught up in his thoughts right now, a bit overwhelmed with them actually. Finally, he stood up and walked away from the bar, heading out the front door. Y/N hummed and took a bite of her burger, watching Sans leave.

She set her food down and ran after him, leaving the restaurant right when he did. "Is everything alright?" She asked worriedly, making Sans scowl.

"God, y'know, you gotta stop assuming something's wrong. I'm fine. And either way, I wouldn't tell you some edgy shit no one cares about," Sans replied. Y/N was silent at first, then she took off the coat she still had on. Her hair brushed over her eyes as she did that, making them impossible to see. She put the hood on top of Sans' head before wrapping her arms together coldly. "Why do you're eyes always do that?"

"Do what?" She asked.

"If they ain't covered by a hood, it's covered by your hair. If not your hair, someone's or something's blocking your face. If it's not that, then you're head it turned away from view. It's weird," Sans explained. Y/N hummed, not noticing that until now.

"Well... Do you want to see my eyes?" She asked as she brought her hands up. She was wearing one of Sans's red shirts, which sorta made this moment more cliche but who cares. Sans slowly nodded, curious. Then Y/N pushed her hair out of her face, revealing her normal looking E/C eyes. Well, aside from the kindness and care that laid within them. And it was that feature that hit Sans first.

"Woah," he mumbled, tuning his full body towards her. "That's beautiful!" Y/N giggled, making Sans' face redden. He opened his mouth to form a quick insult to her in order to make him seem like he didn't mean it, but Y/N spoke first.

"Thank you. Your eyes are very pretty as well. It has a nice color to it, too," she replied softly. Sans huffed silently, looking to the side.

"I, uh...thanks," he mumbled as he put his hand in his pockets. He sighed and put coat on right, burying his face in the hood fur. It was obvious that he was pretty flustered right now and reddened, as he did truly feel his chest warm when he was around Y/N. It was strange for him to feel this way so he typically pushed his feelings away and told himself that he was just her guardian per say. But he knew deep down in his heart it wasn't true.

"Look, I got something to say to you," Sans pushed more harshly then intended. "And I don't wanna hear any of this being told or heard by other monsters, got it? This is us and us alone, ya understand? This shit is hard to say, so..." he drifted off. The snow was started to pick up again, making the scene look more aesthetic.

Y/N nodded, listening to him closely when began talking. "This shit isn't said very often down here; no, it's not said at all actually. But you're human, and you have a different heart so..." he trailed off again, scratching the back of his head. He looked Y/N in the eyes and gave her a flustered glare like if he was embarrassed, which she took no offense to. "I don't just give anyone the right to take my coat, waste my time, bother me, stop me from sleeping, and more. It's just you and Boss, and even he has less power than you."

He continued after a deep breath. "And its not because you're human or I pity you. In fact, I couldn't care less if you're soul is strong, since I could still break it; I couldn't care less if you fell down here, since we're trapped down here too. I let you do because... it's like a bandaid, just gotta say it... I care about you. Not even like a sister or close friend, no, I mean if you were about to be shot, I would jump in front of bullet so you could liev put your life happily. I love you."

Y/N was silent, sorta just staring. Her whole body was shook, frozen, and in shock. She didn't even know what she just heard or if she was dreaming. She even forgot that she was freezing due to being too caught up in her feelings. Sans stood there silently for about 10 seconds as well, before he face-palmed and grew red jn embarrassment. That's when a tear escaped the corner of Y/N's eye and a large smile grew on her features.

"Sans," she replied sweetly as she walked over to him. She fell forwards on him and wrapped her arms around the inside of the coat, around his sweater. The embraced him tightly and said, "I love you too!" Sans felt his heart move a little and a new feeling wash over him. Without being able to control it, he felt a genuine smile grow on his face as he hugged her back tightly.

"I'm so...glad," he breathed out heavily, his nerves relaxing. The two stayed in that position for a while before eventually breaking off. Y/N pecked him on the cheek before grabbing his hand.

"We should go back inside, hehe. The food'll get cold," she said as she motioned to the door. Sans nodded nervously, chuckling.

"Yeah, and Grillby will be pissed if we wasted food. I don't wanna deal with that again." The two fo them walked inside the restaurant/bar, they started their way back to the bar. Yet when they got in, the bar was silent. I mean, the restaurant was pitch silent; not only that, but many eyes were on them as they walked in. Y/N completely ignored their exists' and sat down on the barstool, picked up her burger and ate it. Luckily was still warm. Sans on the other hand was hella nervous. No, he was fucking terrified.

Grillby walked over to the two and leaned forward, so than when he whispered, only they could hear. "The bunny chick saw you two hug and kiss. Just play it cool, and they'll forget all about it in a few days." Well shit, Sans thought. Boss is gonna kill me when he finds out.

Y/N just ate her burger in peace, not really caring if other people knew about them. After all, it's their choice to laugh about like a boy kindergartener complaining about holding hands with a girl because it means their "dating," or to hear about it and mind their own business.