#prodd

[changisworld]

Choking with Channie

word count:2,024

18+, MDNI!! smut below

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

first part of my 8 part masterlist of the extension of this & this headcanon of the members!!;3

Kink& pleasures masterlist here

main masterlist here

-> SMUT WARNINGS: Choking(duh), dom channie, slight breeding kink, praise, degradation, PIV, oral(f rec), big dick chan>:3, multiple orgasms, pussy slapping, fingering(f rec), squirting, overstimulation, teasing

For as long you have known & been dating your boyfriend, Chan, your sex life has been nothing short of amazing.

He has amazing stamina & he knows what he's doing & you were & are already aware with how lucky you are even managing to get with Bangchan in the first place, but you realised very quickly that you also lucked out in your bedroom life, because that man made sure to show you he can fuck.

He can & is the softest person ever during sex when that's the kind of scene you're going for, but for the most part, Channie can be a meanie.

You're laying on your puffy, basic pillows on your & Chans shared bed, your plain white sleep shirt above your tits, your nipples pebbled from not just the air but also from your fingers pinching & tugging on them, your stomach unable to stay still.

Your boyfriend is between your legs, your panties already long discarded & your legs being held open by his broad shoulders, your thighs resting comfortably on them as he kisses & nibbles at the inner parts of your thighs, his eyes shut as he embraces himself in the smoothness of your skin & the faint smell of the body butter you always use after you shower.

"Channie stop teasing me, I've been good all day!" you whine, pouting as you look down at him & he allows his teeth to chomp down on your sensitive skin, making you yelp & you swat your hand over his head, half playfully.

Chan grunts at your action & smacks your already wet pussy, your juices transferring onto every part of the back of his three middle fingers as he does so, you letting out a hiss at the feeling.

You go to tell him off but your words get caught in your throat as he pulls the top of your cunt backwards, exposing your clit before he latches his puffy lips onto the pudge of it, his tongue instantly swirling around it, making you let out a guttural moan & your back arches.

"Grind on my tongue, do it babe." is what you think he just said, but it's hard to tell when he's tonguing you so much he is pretty much swallowing you, but who are you to deny his request?

You release your now reddened nipple from your grip & you latch your hand onto his hair & start grinding against his face, his nose bumping against your now puffy clit as he spreads your folds open with his tongue & slithers his muscle inside, fucking you with it slowly as his hands start to knead at your thighs & waist, low growls & slurps coming from his mouth

"Channie, fingers." you hush, your eyes shutting & your eyebrows furrowing as your hips move frantically against him.

"Don't demand, I know how to make you cum, silly girl, I'm sure you can cum without my fingers, can'cha?" he witts back at you & you let out a whine of frustration, wiggling your legs on his shoulders, sulking.

"Please! need em'" you plead this time, craning your head forward enough just to look into his eyes, his own burning right into yours, the top part of his face that you can see, too calmly for your liking, if you couldn't see or feel any better, you wouldn't expect a thing.

He dramatically rolls his eyes & grumbles before pulling back & harshly spitting onto your cunt, visibly clenching around nothing. He prodds a finger around your entrance, basically rubbing his own spit into your cunt like a moisturiser as he looks at you, watching your flushed face, cheeks blushing & your eyebrows frowning.

He chuckles at the way you're trying to grind against his fingers, looking for any more stimulation & he hums. "So desperate f'me." he murmurs, more to himself than anything as he sets himself back on your pussy, sucking on your clit with intent as he slides a finger into you, your cunt clenching so hard he almost struggled to get it inside.

Chan starts to scissor his digit in & out, his tongue drawing lazy patterns on your button before harshly suckling on it, just o repeat the actions again & you don't even need to look down to know he is grinding against your shared bed as your eyes are clenched shut & you're having to put way more effort than you should need to into not suffocating your boyfriend with your thighs, not like he would complain.

Chan enters a second finger after warming you up a bit more & you let out a whine, muffled by the back of your arm that you're nibbling on & you clench around him instantly & he gets impossibly harder at your sounds.

"Wanna- cum on your fingers channie" you whine, your body tensing up, but he obviously doesn't slow down, instead, keeping the exact same pace but adding a third finger, doing a 'come here' motion & you let out a squeal as your orgasm hits you & your thighs shut against your boyfriends head, trapping him as your orgasm squirts out of you, covering the inside of your thighs & also Chans face your body forces his fingers out of you as you moan Chans name like a prayer & he can't help but smirk up at you, watching you fall apart, all because of him.

You breathe heavy as the sensation sadly fizzles away, you don't pay much mind to you soaking his face completely, you've both gotten used to it by now, it's honestly a shock if you don't squirt because of him when you orgasm at this point, all embarrassment completely out the window at this point.

Chan smirks up at you & you look down, your juices coating his face & you give him a lazy smile before giving grabby hands, trying to get him to come towards you but he ignores the action & settles himself back in the position he was just in & licks another strip of your cunt with a flat stroke & you twitch & hiss with overstimulation.

"Too much, cmere channie" you cry, trashing your legs & you try to wiggle yourself away from his tongue but he is quick to hold you in place with your waist & he looks up at you, his eyes got a darker tinge to them this time.

"Don't be so whiney babe, just let me clean you up." he huffs at you, smirking at you before going back to kitten licking at your soaking cunt, enjoying & savouring your taste & you groan at the burning yet amazing feeling.

You reach & grab onto Chans fluffy hair, tugging & pulling, unsure of what you're actually wanting & he reacts to this by moving his face back enough to land a sharp slap onto your cunt, making you yelp.

He crawls his way up your frame & kisses you softly, the complete opposite to the slap he just gave you. You cup his cheek with your hand as your other hand comes down to his boxers & you palm his solid cock, his underwear already damp with his precum.

"You're so needy, so hot" he purrs as you pull his cock out of his underwear, heavy in your hand & you bite your lip in anticipation, giggling at his words as you start to jerk him off, moving your head to kiss him again at the same time.

You pick up the pace with your wrist & he groans into your mouth & his hand comes to rest on your neck & you get butterflies, your breath getting shortened & you can feel him smirk against your lips.

Your boyfriend breaks away from your lips & he starts kissing your cheek then moving to your jawline & then eventually down to the tiny part of your neck that isn't covered by his veiny hand.

"Chan, fuck me, please" you plead, your voice strained from the slight lack of breath & Chan just hums as he moves himself & he helps flip you over & you arch your back for him as you lay your head on your arms & you feel a dent in the mattress behind you right after Chan kicks his underwear off & he lets a glob of spit land on his dick, making him hiss at the coldness of it as he aligns himself up with your dripping entrance & drags his cock through it, teasing you & you groan in annoyance.

"Channie! sto-" you're cut off as he slides himself inside you in one thrust, his tip already kissing your cervix & you clench around him.

"Shit baby, you're always so fucking tight." he groans as he lets you get used to him, because you both know no matter how much foreplay happens beforehand, it's always a stretch.

Chan starts to slowly thrust once you give him the go ahead & you're instantly seeing stars. His cock kisses your cervix & grinds against your G-spot each time he moves & your eyes are rolling to the back of your head.

"Go quicker, h-harder chan" you rasp, you taking it upon yourself to start meeting his thrusts & chan lets out a growl before he leans forward just enough to pull on your shoulders before he moves his hand to rest on your neck as he picks up the pace.

"You saying I don't fuck you well enough hmm? trying to fuck yourself against me because I don't do it well enough hmm? Why not I fuck the baby you're begging me for into you n prove you wrong?" he purrs at you, breathless & his hair damp with sweat.

"Wan- cum" is all you can reply with, your brain leaving your body at this point & Chan just lets out a breathy cackle as he reaches down to your pussy, swollen slightly from the abuse his cock is giving it & he lands another slap on it & you let out a choked squeal & Chan tightens his grip a tiny bit around your neck & he leans into you until you flop over & his chest is fully against your back & your knees can't even hold you up anymore since your orgasm is getting so close & your legs have turned into complete jelly.

You're lying completely flat as he continues to abuse your cunt & your crying at this point, the overstimulation so strong you feel as if you're about to explode.

"Guna cum" is all you can stutter out, at the exact same time your second orgasm hits you & you shake beneath him, but despite how much your cunt is suffocating his cock by clenching so much, his pace barely falters.

"Gonna fill you, mkay? So fucking hot y/nnie, soso good babe"he groans as he lets go of your neck to balance himself better as he is feeling his own release bubbling up. He lays his hands on each side of your head & leans down enough to bite down on your shoulder as he shoots ropes of hot cum into you, making you shriek & the sounds that release from Chans dry throat is borderline animalistic.

Chan turns your head to the side just enough so he can kiss you, the small pile of drool that's fell past your lips, now on the duvet, soaking onto the skin on your cheek, but you wouldn't pay any mind if you could.

"You were so good for me hunny, you mkay? did I hurt you?" he questions, his voice now a whole lot softer & you just hum a 'yes', too out of breath & too tired to speak actual words. Chan kisses your nose before helping you roll over to make you more comfortable before snuggling next to you, letting you relax.

[nametakensff]

Lovely Mess (D/isco E/lysium, M/M)

I wrote this really quickly but then had a week full of interruptions before being able to edit it - but anyway, here's 2.3k of H/arry and J/ean being gross 🥰

Pre-Martinaise, Pre-amnesia H/arry gets J/ean to indulge him in the archive rooms of the station. Things gets messy (literally)

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, H/arry has a sneezing fetish, J/ean gets off on indulging him, manually induced sneezes, mentions of hay fever, rapid sneezes, dry humping, prelude to anal sex, anal fingering, spray, sneezing on someone, LOTS of mess, graphic descriptions of mess, verbal teasing, dirty talk, praise kink, embarrassment/humiliation, nose blowing, handkerchiefs

CW: Mess (I mean it), complicated/toxic relationship, abusive language, mentions of alcohol abuse, H/arry is extremely pushy, J/ean should love himself a little bit more, rough sex, degrading language directed towards the fetish, H/arry spits on J/ean's asshole, they're both idiots who enable each other's worst behaviour even if they do care deeply for each other

NSFW - Minors DNI!

“Hhd’Tishh!! ‘TTtsch’uu! Kt’tssch’iew!! Ttsschh’uu!!”

Jean rocked forward helplessly, shivering as each sneeze seemed only to aggravate the tickle rather than alleviate it. Of course, said tickle could only truly be assuaged if the source of its insistence was removed. Given that the reason he was sneezing himself stupid was because of Harry’s greedy and merciless inducing, he didn’t have much faith that he’d find relief any time soon.

“Fuck, Jean! Bless you!”

And there it was. Jean’s face heated at the blessing Harry all but moaned, already pinkened by the supreme effort of releasing an endless stream of tickly little sneezes. Every time he pondered these affairs with a clear head not clouded by impending or recently completed orgasm – when he analysed the situation objectively, the way in which Harry would pester him and he would indulge - he often wondered why he gave in at all. But without fail, the second Harry would approach him, all heated eyes and wandering hands, Jean would cave. Harry might be the deviant with the obscure fetish, but then what did that make him? What was his excuse for all the many times he would get so worked up over the attention he’d end up cumming harder and faster than Harry?

Harry smiled at him, drunk with arousal and power (and yes, okay, the Irish coffee Jean had watched him fix himself this morning). Jean shouldn’t let him treat him like a plaything, not really, but at the very least with Harry, he cared – which was more than could be said about some of the other men (and women) he had permitted to fuck him. He may have a shitty way of showing it half the time, the selfish maniac, but he at least had the decency to express remorse when he did happen to hurt Jean. And it wasn’t as if Jean was an angel. He dished out plenty of hurt himself. It was the nature of their partnership, and of their friendship. Go hard or go home, no in-betweens. Which was probably another reason why Jean was pressed up against the uncomfortable shelves of the archive room, his superior officer’s muscular thigh wedged securely between his own whilst he clutched at him for support, spraying Harry with each and every sneeze that was tortured out of him.

Harry jiggled the little wire he used for such occasions against the wall of Jean’s irritated nostril, and Jean heard the shuddering sigh of anticipation the older man couldn’t hold back as he watched his nostrils twitch and flare. It barely took any motion at all now to push him over the edge. He inhaled, a short, desperate little exclamation of breath before he was sneezing again, all over Harry’s hand, his wrist, and catching his face and shirt.

“Hupt’Tschu! Hhk’TsschUu! Hpt’tshh!-Tschh-Tschtt!! Hht-! Hh’AHtt’Tschhieww!! Putain…”

Harry groaned appreciatively, rocking his hips with each ticklish release. His cock was rock solid as he pressed against the younger man, and just the sensation of that huge erection prodding into him made Jean whine. He wanted Harry to bend him over and fuck him five minutes ago, already. He snuffled reflexively, and that was enough to send him over the edge for another violent triple.

“IhKk’TschHh!! Hh’itshiew!! Hgk’TISHh’ieww!!”

To his utter embarrassment, that final sneeze had been an incredibly messy affair alongside the regular dousing of spray. There now hung two small trails of clear mess, dripping down over his moustache.

“Fuck,” He murmured, blushing violently and reaching up to hide the display, even though Harry would have seen it, could not have missed it, watching him sneeze as he was through unblinking, starstruck eyes.

Jean bristled with indignation as Harry suddenly gripped his wrist and pinned it to his side, halting his attempt to clean himself up. He tried with his other hand, the one that had been gripping Harry’s bicep, but it was no use. That he worked out obsessively and had the body to show for it meant nothing in the face of the older man’s years of hardwired athleticism, even now that he used his arms to lift bottles of beer to his lips more than anything else. He could only stare daggers back at Harry, hoping to cow him into submission. Perhaps this would have worked at a time when Harry’s entire being wasn’t concentrated in the girthy length of his cock. But it was, and so it didn’t.

“Let go of me, you fucking maniac!” Jean spat, angry at Harry for merely smirking back at him and angrier at himself for finding that it made him even hotter.

“Nope. Nuh-uh. Not until you promise you’ll leave yourself alone.”

Jean blinked at him.

“I’ve got fucking snot running down my face, you moron, and it’s your fault. I’ll still fucking sneeze for you, just let me wipe it away.”

Harry didn’t budge. Jean felt his heart race when he realised that Harry’s eyes, pupils blown wide with arousal, were lingering over the sight of mess that was ever so gradually creeping down his face and threatening to slip over his closed lips. He sniffled thickly, nostrils flaring with effort, hoping to pull some of it away, but it barely made a difference. Harry exhaled, and Jean felt his cock twitching against his hip.

“You can clean up in a minute. Just. Keep going like that? I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

Jean knew he would, knew that Harry genuinely enjoyed making him cum, for all his flaws. He didn’t even care if it was a matter of machismo for the older man – he just wanted to have a fucking orgasm, and indulging Harry without resistance was the fastest way of getting one. He sniffled again, wincing just a little at the dense sound of it, before shaking Harry’s hands away and resting his own on the older man’s shoulders.

“Fine.” He grumbled, ignoring Harry’s toothy grin and tilting his head back slightly, nostrils already fluttering in anticipation. “Just don’t come crying to me when I make a mess of your fucking uniform.”

“I never do!” Harry eagerly replied, wasting no time in reinserting that devilish inducing tool.

Every little prod urged the tickle onwards with the most delicious building of pressure. Jean had never disliked the sensation of sneezing, but the sheer quantity of sneezes he was prone to, particularly with his hay fever, had somewhat desensitised him to how pleasurable of a reflex it truly was. He both hated and thrilled in the way Harry was brushing off on him, transforming a banal bodily function into something undeniably hedonistic.

One final prod of the tool, so devious and teasing that it brought fresh tears to his eyes, and Jean was buckling forward with the subsequent release.

“Hut’Tschuu!-Tish’iew!-Hh’tsSCHhuu!! Tishh’ieww-Tschtt!! Huh-! Kishh’uu! Dzsh’ieww!! Hhk’Tisshhiew!!”

There was no way he could open his eyes as the sneezes overwhelmed him, barely giving him a chance to breathe. He could feel himself approaching a desperate state of light-headedness, but damn it all, it felt so fucking good to purge the tickle, and the shameless moans Harry was making just elevated the eroticism to euphoric heights. He gave in to each sneeze, letting them do with him as they would. His cock throbbed and twitched in the painfully tight constraints of his trousers.

“IhGKk’Tschu!! Hgk’Tscch!!-Tshh-‘Tschieww!! Hupt’Tschh! Igk’Tshieww!! Tschh! Tsh! Hh-!”

Harry had at least removed that cruel little wire, and Jean could feel the sneezes winding down, perhaps due to lack of oxygen more than anything else. His breath scissored in and out of him, chest jumping with effort as he built up to one final, cleansing explosion.

“hhHAGk’TshHhieww!! Ah…”

Fuck. He was trembling, at last able to blink his bleary eyes open. His face felt hot with effort, tears streaming down his face as his breathing gradually evened out again.

“Ohh, Vic. Jean. Good boy.”

Harry murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to his burning cheek. Those words, predictably, went straight to his solid cock and he blushed right up to the tips of his ears. He was so, so embarrassingly easy.

When Harry pulled back, Jean took the time to assess the damage. His fit had dislodged no small amount of clear mess, built up over hours of aggravating hay fever and Harry’s ruthless tickling. It had spattered over Harry’s chest, some glittering in the chest hair that peaked out through the unbuttoned upper section of his shirt, the rest leaving specks of damp discolouration as his sneezes saturated the fabric. He looked down to where their legs locked, and even as he did so another drop spilled from the pinkened rim of one nostril to join the damage there. As with Harry’s shirt, the material stretched across his thigh was darkened with slippery moisture. Jean noticed he had even managed to sneeze, or drip, onto the straining material across Harry’s crotch, which throbbed happily as he regarded it.

He didn’t need a mirror to visualise the mess he had made of himself; he could feel the result of his body-shaking fit dripping past his moustache and over his lips, down to his bearded chin. Judging by the damp sensation of his shirt clinging to his pectorals, he’d definitely drenched parts of his own chest as well.

The droplet that had recently escaped now gathered anew, hanging precariously in place. Harry had noticed, because how could he not, and he took the opportunity to tease Jean’s sensitive nostril, ever so delicately, tracing the flaring rim with one outstretched finger.

Jean gasped immediately, cringing at the intensity of the tickle, and sneezed all over Harry’s hand.

“AEgkK’TschIeww!! HHd’TtSChHhht!! Oh m’by god…”

He blinked and shivered, relishing in the trembling aftermath and unable to help the soft little whimper of pleasure that slipped through his lips, only partially open to allow himself to breathe. He snuffled, the sound of it crackling and obscenely congested.

Harry pulled his hand back, connected to Jean’s nostrils by one delicate, glistening strand before it stretched to its limit and fell away.

“Wow.” He smiled, sounding completely fucking enraptured, and held the hand up for Jean to see as he himself admired the prodigious results of that violent double. Jean blushed to see the skin glistening in the poorly lit room, slick and sticky. He was frightened for a second that Harry might actually lick himself clean, and even more frightened at the way his cock didn’t seem to wilt in the slightest, but thankfully Harry just wiped it off on the ruined material of his own shirt.

“Poor baby. So stuffy. You made such a lovely mess for me, Jean-Jean.”

He was saying the most ridiculous, unbelievable things in that gruff, rumbling voice of his, speaking more because he liked the sound of what he was saying over whether he thought Jean might actually enjoy it. Jean did enjoy it, though, and that fucking enraged him. He would always come back for more, no matter how strange or obscure the sex became, because he was a fucking fool and Harry could play him – just about anyone, really, but especially him – like a fucking fiddle.

“You’re a fucking pervert, Harry. A disgusting creep!”

He meant it, too, yet they both knew that this vitriol towards the particulars of Harry’s proclivities was a facade. In reality, Jean was angry because once again, Harry had pushed his boundaries and his buttons and he’d loved it anyway. His outburst only spurred Harry on, rubbing himself shamelessly on Jean’s hip.

“Yeahh, baby. I’m a downright tramp. But you fucking love it, Vic. I’m making you hard.”

Jean gasped as Harry’s baritone voice rumbled against him; he could feel it in his chest, the rasp of it echoing in his skull as Harry licked a line down the shell of his ear. The feeling of his facial hair rubbing against his cheek made him shudder. And he was right – he was so, so right. Jean was giddy with arousal, intoxicated with the utter filthiness of it all.

“Let me – let me clean myself up.” He managed, and Harry obeyed, giving Jean enough room to retrieve his handkerchief and indulge in a long, crackling blow. It was several such blows, in fact, and Jean squirmed as Harry refused to look away. He wondered if his body would soon become unable to distinguish between the twin burning flames of humiliation and intense arousal. He used the unsullied part of his handkerchief to clean his beard and moustache, hoping if he missed a spot Harry would let him know before the unavoidable walk of shame back to the bullpen.

“You okay?” Harry asked, voice far too fucking tender as he stroked at Jean’s cheek. He knew if he looked Harry in the eye his gaze would be equally as saccharine, and it made Jean want to scream, or melt. Maybe both.

“I’m fine. Fuck me, god dammit. Fuck me right now,” He snarled, bucking his hips against Harry and groaning as the older man immediately humped him back, pawing him all over.

“You gonna beg me for it?” Harry murmured against Jean’s lips, breathy with arousal.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“Neither the fuck are you, shitkid.”

“It’s okay,” Harry drawled, grinning at him before flipping Jean around and bending him over the small, nearby reading table. Jean moaned as Harry pulled his trousers and underwear down his thighs, shivering in anticipation. “I forgive you. I’ll fuck you anyway.”

Jean rested his forehead on his folded forearms and moaned again, heating at the sensation of Harry spreading his cheeks with his huge hands before spitting on his hole, happy in the knowledge that he had worked Harry up just enough to be railed as hard and as fast as he liked.  

“Feel free to sneeze again, if you need to.” He could hear the smirk in Harry’s voice, the popping cap of his portable lube bottle, and then the sensation of his coated fingers probing inside of him, stretching him open.

“Fuck you,” Jean gasped out, reaching between his legs as Harry lined up their hips, getting ready to enjoy the ride.

[geekynightowl1997]

Something I noticed about Eliot is- whenever somebody from the team asks him for something... or implies wanting something; he always seems to remind himself (and the others) that he use to work alone. Of course it comes out in a annoyed huff, but there's still truth too it. Eliot can walk away, anytime he wants. He just doesn't. And what makes it all the more interesting is- nobody ever bites back with the comment; "Like you'd leave us." or "You're stuck with us." Maybe that's why he says it from time to time. Not to be mean or to remind them of whose important. But because he knows when he makes those comments- they don't actually believe him.

I mean this man at face value is gruff, sarcastic, and is off putting. He has a big personality- and can look menacing (even for his height.) He's buff. When seeing him at first glance- people can't help but feel intimated. Yet, when he's around clients, children, women (he's not conning,) and his team... he's the world's BIGGEST teddy bear. All Parker has too do is poke and prodd and make a request- he does it. Sophie gives a request and a smile and with an annoyed huff- does it. Harry and Breanna just lightheartedly banter- and he banters back. Hardison (much like Parker) pushes and prodds- takes things. Even Nate had his own way of giving grief to Eliot and the man would do it. Part of it- I think is because they know that Eliot secretly loves doing things for them. The other part is because for Eliot- working alone got...well got lonely and for the first time in a long time- Eliot has a reason to stay.

Knowing that for some reason makes me giddy. Knowing Eliot stays- for them. And at this point it's not because he's forced to. He wants to. Honestly wants to. Maybe it's just knowing that Eliot can walk away whenever he wants to- but chooses not to. Maybe it's because the team really has become more of a family and they know he won't walk away. No matter what happens- Eliot will be there. Even if they push too far or beg too much, he'll stay. He'll stay with his grumpy attitude and eye rolls. He'll stay because I think in his mind- not only is it his way to redemption. But it's also his way of making them know that their safe. Especially for Parker. Who they seem to have the closet relationship. (Minus Hardison, but Hardison isn't in Redemption much.) Because Parker hasn't ever really felt safe and Eliot wants her to know- she's safe with him.

Obviously, I'm not the first person to notice this- I'm not the first one to point it out. But there is something about Eliot. This man who became basically a myth. A man who has innocent blood on his hands. Who cooks, beats up bad guys, and looks out for his little family- that just makes me giddy. (I know that's super weird!) It's true though. It also helps that nobody on the team squirms away from him- knowing what he's done. They all try to imitate him- in some way.

In my mind Eliot Spencer means safe. No matter what kinda darkness he holds. Eliot is safe and he won't leave. And that matters to me way more than it probably should.

And you know what they say; imitation is the best form of flattery.

[azurlily]

NSFW read at your own risk. Everyone in this is aged up to 21+. I'm a beginner writer so this wont be the best.

Ymir x Historia Reiss x Reader

Imagine Historia and Ymir trying their hardest not to straight up attack you during the summer. They see you in bathing suits, and short tight clothes. They try so hard no to absolutely destroy you.

The girls grip their hands together and pray to eachother that they'll be able to wait until the end of the day. They need you so fucking badly, they cant wait, they cant take it anymore.

The minute you three are home, in the warm and safety of a familiar place. The two go wild, they cant wait any longer, and you better be ready. You barely get in the door when you feel a pair of hands on your hips. A pair of warm, long, slender finger press into your hips.

Ymirs long slender fingers. You shiver at her touch. You hear the door lock and feel yourself being pushed into a room- your bedroom. Small kisses pepper your neck, ymir kisses up and down your neck. Getting closer and closer to you cheek and lips.

You feel a second set of hands push you onto the bed, Historia. You fall into the satin sheets, Historia only let's her lovers have the best. Everything you and Ymir own, it's the highest brand, Historia refuses to let you have anything else.

You feel Historias hands pulling off layers of your clothing. Peice by peice, inch by inch, every last bit. The girls want you bare, and they will have it. Have you.

Ymirs hands run up and down your thighs, they pull at your pants/skirt, pull them down, pull them off. Hers run to your underwear, she slowly pulls them off. She leans her head down, grabbing one of your thighs and pulling it to her face.

She leans down and starts licking gently at your thighs. Small kitten licks, smaller bites. She nips gently at your thighs and you can't keep you voice down. Ymir knows what she's doing, usually she's so much meaner, so much rougher. Not tonight, no.

She's dragging this out for as long as possible.

"Quiet down, hun. Be good and lay back."

Ymir hummed seeing you shake at her words. She loves the reactions you give her, she wants- no she needs more. More of you, more of your body, more of Historia and her body too.

Speaking of Historia, her hands are like magic against your skin. You watched as she slowly took off your shirt, reaching your bra. When she reaches it a perverted smile creeps it's way up her face. She stares down at your chest, it doesn't matter how big or small you are. She will grope you.

She pulls your bra off in a haste to get to the rest of you. She runs her hands up and down your stomach, pressing her hands against you she pokes and proddes your body. She moves her hands up farther, pressing them into your chest. She pulls at your nipples, Historia doesn't care if it hurts. And by now you're used to it.

She presses her head against you chest, she kissing your nipples a few times before giving them some small kitten licks. You shiver and shake, she knows how to rile you up. She keeps kissing and sucking your now hardened buds. She doesn't let up and gets rougher when she hears you whimper.

Music to her ears.

She starts moving her mouth up, chaste kisses along you neck and cheek. Running up to your lips, she captures them in her own. She holds onto you face her tounge dipping itself into your mouth. She has every intention to ruin you tonight.

She isn't the only one, Ymir has been so rudely teasing you this entire time. She wants you nice and ready for her. She runs to finger up against your pussy, heating you groan she presses both fingers against your clit.

She rubs you gently, not enough to get you off, but enough to get you wet. When Historia finally let's go of your mouth she snickers quietly.

"Aww, you poor, poor, little thing! Do you need daddy to help you cum? Or would you rather mommy do it?"

It didn't matter who you chose, they'd still tease you. The only difference is that while Ymir is rough, she isnt a sadist. On the other hand Historia is, and will do anything to see you cry while still keeping that sweet act up.

You whimper loudly and shake you head. You didn't want to choose, because you know. You know that it doesn't matter who you choose, they'll still make it hell before giving you what you want.

You beg them both, beg loud and clear. You beg them and the look on their faces only makes you fear for the worse.

"You wanna cum? We've barely even started and you're already begging like a bitch in heat. Oh well, if you want to cum that badly..."

You know what Historia is insinuating and you could care less.

They want to overstimulate you. I mean you want to come right? You need it, so fucking badly? Let them take care of you, but be careful, you've just unlocked a whole new version of hell.

"Fine, slut. Historia and I were going to mess around and bit and then give you what you want, but if this is what you truly want. You better be prepared."

Ymir pulls you closer to her chest. You can feel something pressing against you, and you have a pretty good idea of what it it.

"If you beg us to stop were going to fuck you harder. Don't say we didn't warn you."

Historia giggles in your ear. Soon Ymir pushes you back against the bed and starts undress with Historia. You see Historias angel white, lace lingerie. You cant keep your eyes off her, while Ymir on the other hand strips to her boxers. A dark red.

You watch Ymir grab a big black strap. Usually she uses the pink one(Historias favorite), but tonight. Oh, tonight she thinks you need something a bit bigger.

You watch her strap it on, paying little attention to Historia. Bad move. You feel two hands on your wrists. Historias tying you up.

"I was going to try Shibari, but I don't think a whore like you deserves that. Ymir, baby?"

Ymir looks at Historia with a devilish smile.

"Yes, my beautiful lover?"

"Make it hurt. I want to see our lovely doll crying tears of pleasure and pain."

Hehe. I'll leave you to imagine what happens after...

Also sorry I haven't been getting to all the asks and requests! I'm working on getting as many done as possible and I really wanted to give yall something for today! I'll be trying to get as many requests done as possible so please be patient with me.🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️

[dearweirdme]

In what way is Jungkook protective of all things Tae?

Hi anon!

Well.. this feels like a setup, but sure..

All throughout the years we can see Jk being protective of Tae, though it’s probably in subtle ways that escape the eye when you don’t pay attention. He takes care of Tae’s physical wellbeing, speaking out about him not being ready to perform after his injury, making sure he doesn’t eat food that’s too hot, making sure the challenges they have to do are too much (Tae under water for too long, Tae with the balloongas (what’s the English word?), grabbing on to Tae’s back when they fell into the water together… etc, etc!

But Jk also takes care of Tae’s emotional wellbeing. Keeping him close, or a close eye on him, when Tae seems off.

But more specifically to their relationship, I feel Jk is less prone to mention Tae on lives, because he dislikes the way fandom prodds him about Tkk. He has a different reaction when it comes to fans prodding him about Jm, and that’s not because that relationship is the one that’s true.

[spiciestpotatoes]

Tummy Clinic Chronicles

Patient #1

Lily was disappointed at first. It seems that her advertisement for her tummy clinic didn't register with people because she kept receiving people with all kinds of health issues but none related to what she specialized in.

Not wanting to deny these people healthcare but also not wanting to get a general doctor reputation, she sent all these people to her friend working in a general clinic 15 minutes away from her.

The day was coming to an end, and it had been just another day when she'd turned away at least a dozen patients, but she refused to give up and stayed her full shift. An hour before closing, a knock on her door startles her and interrupts a tense chapter of the book she was entangled in. Ready to turn another poor soul away, she gingerly went to the door. She opened it to find a lady in a maroon bomber jacket leaning against her doorway, looking exhausted.

"Are- Are you dr. Wilson? I saw your advertisement outside.. I- I was wondering if you could take me in, I know I don't have an appointment but my-" she paused as she grimaced and let out a breathy moan, holding onto the door frame with one hand and seemingly holding her tummy with the other, hiding it in her pocket. "My stomach has been killing me and I really need some help." She looked at Lily with pleading, pain filled eyes. Lily felt slightly joyous at the thought of having her first actual client, but she couldn't allow herself to look that happy in front of the poor woman so she gave her a small smile and opened the door wider for her to come in. "By all means, please, come in."

The door opened up to a room equipped with some closets and a coat rack on the right, and at the end of the room, a desk with two cushioned armchairs in front of it. "Please, sit." Lily said, pointing to the two armchairs. The woman carefully took a seat in the right armchair, the movement seemingly paining her.

"So, as you know, my name is Lily Wilson or dr. Wilson and since it's your first time here, I do just need some of your personal information to create a record for you. Let's start with your name."

"Anne Brown." They spent the next few minutes loading all of Anne's information into the system. "Now tell me about what's troubling you. When did the pain start? How and where does it hurt?"

"I first felt it yesterday morning, and I mean early morning. I woke up around 2 a.m., and my stomach just felt off and uncomfortable. It gradually worked up to being incredibly painful and has been hurting in intervals since. The middle of my lower tummy hurts the most. It's almost like cramping, and then the pain radiates all around." Both of her hands were moving slowly over her tummy, as if just talking about it made it worse.

"Okay miss Brown, let's go into the examination room so I can take a look at your belly." Lily says as she stands up and opens the door left to the table. The examination room has several tables, all for various purposes and she takes out a moderately soft one, wanting Anne to relax while she prodds around her tummy.

As Anne goes to lay down on the table, she lets out a small moan, the movement obviously taking a lot out of her. "Could you please lift your shirt up and lower your jeans just so I could have better access to your tummy please?" Lily asked and Anne complied with her instructions.

"I will feel around your abdomen and you can tell me where it hurts the most, okay?" Anne nodded, internally preparing for agony and let her arms fall to her side. Lily started just beneath her ribcage, pressing lightly all around her tummy. When she neared the lower area of her tummy Anne started tensing up as even the lightest touch upset her tummy further. "Is that where it hurts the most?" Lily asked, looking at Anne's scrunched up face. "Yeah that's where it's most sensitive." She let out a small moan. "Okay I'm going to have to go in deeper for a second time just to assess what's going on here, is that okay?" Lily asked, placing her hands to the middle of Anne's lower belly. Anne tensed up but nodded nonetheless. At the first press of Lilly's fingers going that deep, Anne's hands flew to get Lily away as the pain was too much to bear.

"It really hurts when you press it like that." Anne moaned out, guarding her tummy with her hands, breathing heavily. "Okay well I think nothing major is wrong with you, it seems that you are experiencing some intense gas pains so I can either give you some medicine that will hopefully help you get all of it out, or I can try to massage your tummy to manually jump start the process." Lily said with a bit of a smirk.

"I think I'll take the medicine for now, the massage seems a bit too intense at this moment." Anne replied and started pulling her clothes back over her tummy. She leaned forward as she was walking out of the office, holding both her hands over her tummy. Lily felt sorry it caused her too much pain to have her tummy massaged. Before Anne left, Lily put a hand on her back and said "If the medicine doesn't help you, feel free to stop by or call and make an appointment and I can still do that massage for you. It has helped many of my patients so I highly recommend it if all else fails. I'll contact you soon to see how you're doing." She smiled at her and Anne returned the smile, feeling grateful she stumbled upon this doctor and her clinic.

[eluxcastar]

Who is it that looks back at you in the mirror?

── ୨୧：la signora, pantalone x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: you used to see yourself stare back at you when you looked in the mirror, but through a haze of fuzzy memories and the 'help' of the fair lady, something about your reflection looks...off.

୨୧﹑genre :: idk it's food eat it

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, implied yandere, mentions of drugging, possibly ooc, proofreading? we don't use that word in this house, bad writing and really ramble-ish tbh 😭

୨୧﹑words :: 1063

atp I'll do anything just to post so you know I'm not dead and so I can say I actually posted this year. I was going to write about Signora on her own, then about Pantalone on his own and then I remembered commedia dell'arte has them married or something and I was like "this" maybe I'll write something fluffy next time so I don't sit there for ages wondering wtf to words, I finished both posts tho so maybe they'll come next (Pantalone's came before nvm 💀)

the last people you expect to share a mutual interest are the fair lady Signora and the banker Pantalone, yet you are constantly fussed over, constantly spoiled, constantly dressed up, constantly treasured. you expect them to be rivals for your affection if they want to share you, and yet this agreement of theirs is mutually beneficial to the point they're perfectly content with sharing. the funding for Signora’s efforts in dressing you up are provided by Pantalone, allowing her the financial freedom to do anything and everything she wants to you, just so long as she turns around to flaunt the results to the banker like you're some kind of prize on auction.

it is not uncommon for Signora to fix your hair, somehow manage to find garments that compliment you even without you there, keep you at least looking happy like you're enjoying this kind of abstract torture. she gets unusually fussy when you don't eat well enough, probably the risk of you looking awkward in some outfits she picked out or maybe just you attempting to starve yourself to escape. she insists you look at it yourself to see, and in those clothes you could swear she just dressed you in, someone else stares back at you. 

every morning you're served a pill by the banker and get told to take it, regardless of the fact it makes you drowsy and weak in the knees. that's probably what make them give it to you, a concoction of drugs that keeps you just unaware enough it's hard to tell where you are or what you're doing, though you can walk and recognise things, you're kept feeling detached from yourself and just when the feeling wears off by the next morning, you're thrown back in. it feels as if a different person stares back at you in the mirror each time, someone lost and often confused, who smiles when they're told even when you thought you were resisting that. 

that person can't be you, can it?

it’s not a drastic difference, drearier than you remember. they look like you, you can tell that much. It’s just not you somehow. you used to think it was, but slowly it becomes less and less familiar. your body stops doing the things you want it to do and instead complies to the wants of those two. they want you and you go, Pantalone wants to treat you like an accessory and perch you in his lap then you sit, La Signora wants you to sit still and bear the discomfort of what she picks out and you do that. it's not a question, you just oblige.

you've never liked the way the hands of the banker touch you—like some possession that he owns—neither has Signora, you notice how she glares just a little when he has his hands all over you like a shiny ring of the finest Noctilucous Jade money can buy. still, neither of them have killed each other yet. you wonder how exactly, but maybe it's just the fact he's abusing your compliance to let him touch you. she certainly doesn't seem to mind as long as she gets to touch you too, still sitting in his lap and still the centrepiece meant for their enjoyment. 

something to be poked and prodded at and squeezed. didn't you join the Fatui to fight? when exactly was it that you lost your way and fell into the arms of these two?

at first you didn't mind, finding it to be harmless gestures, a touch that lasts too long or a stare you notice out of the corner of your eye. more than affection you'd call it merely an ‘interest’, the affection only started when one of them managed to get you working under them as a subordinate. you had to give it to her, Signora is good at getting things she really wants, apparently you were one of those things as she promptly moved you right ‘where you belong’—to her side, of course.

you didn't used to mind things that way until you began to notice that Pantalone loitered around her more and more, and you know he didn't used to do that because you caught him with so much free time before. all of the business coming out of the blue when Signora was in such a stagnant point in her work was suspicious to you. you wrote it off with his explanation of a reworking of the finances in her sector taking longer than expected. to someone who had very little involvement in her finances, it made a lot of sense. 

yes, somewhere between then and now, you tripped and fell into this neat little hole they made for you, a honey trap even. you're not sure when or how, all of that time has always been…a little fuzzier than you'd like.

when you looked in the mirror then, you saw your face looking back at you. now you see some lost little child who barely knows how to keep their head straight. for just a moment, in a rare hour on a lonely morning, you stare into that mirror and begin to see cracks of yourself shining through. have you always looked so tired? when did you get your hair to look like that? this person is still not you, but it sure does look a lot like you, a worn down version of you covered in a thick coat of idealisation to mask your weathering and slow spiral further and further into something you cannot identify.

in the very same morning you wonder if maybe you are still there to stare back at yourself in the mirror, that same pill lands in front of you with a cup of water. you recognise Pantalone’s hands, and you know that he can tell from the way you look at him and question his words that you're coming out of your haze. in response, he has to put you right back in. he claims he’s never going to force you, though you suspect that to be a lie. this life of luxury he provides you and the affection Signora gives to you will all go away if you don't take it, and in all aspects that's a good thing.

why exactly do you keep picking up that cup of water and downing that pill?

[pvregold]

…       #       [      status      ]       ⤿       closed   for   @ofliarsandlovers  . …       #       [      location      ]       ⤿       a   rooftop   somewhere   in   sector   five  .

               the  greedy  nature  of  her  intellect  that  often  buzzes  inside  simmers  at  the  prospect  of  her  questions  being  answered,  of  her  senses  witnessing  a  power  she  still  can’t  fully  comprehend.  the  bottle  of  wine  swirls  in  her  hand  as  she  contemplates  her  next  words,  and  her  eyes  slowly  move  from  the  horizon  to  josefine’s  face.     “  so,  if  you  can  manipulate  lies,  does  it  mean  you  can  also  know,  with  absolute  certainty,  when  people  are  lying ?  ”     the  question  might  sound  dumb,  but  that’s  how  research  works:  you  ask  and  prodd  and  dig  until  you  have  enough  information  to  find  something.

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Last But Not Least Part 2

Thank you to everyone that left me likes and comments on Part 1. I don't know if I'm just not good at writing this pairing or what. Maybe I'm trying to rush it too much. Honestly, I do better with family fics and I'm trying to get to that "good stuff" for all our couples. This is primarily an Elucien submission with references to Feysand, Nessian, and Azris. Thanks in advance for reading and please feel free to leave feedback!

************************************************************************

Elain was enjoying herself immensely on her outing in the city with Lucien. He had returned in 45 minutes, just as promised.  He was dressed casually, but more put together than how he’d arrived at the River House initially.  His forest green trousers and matching coat were like deep green of summer, just before the leaves started to turn.  It was a beautiful contrast to his red hair that he still had pulled half back by a leather thong.

As they wandered aimlessly through Velaris, they clearly didn’t have a destination in mind.  They were just walking and talking.  She learned that he liked to read history.  She asked him questions about the type of history he studied, and he explained how he was learning more about human history since living with Queen Vassa and Jurian.  He said he wanted to understand more about the culture she’d been raised in.

She told him about all the things she’d discovered since becoming Fae.  He seemed to find her analysis of things like food and drinks and animals amusing because he chuckled often.  He also promised to show her other new things if she was interested.  As an emissary he’d been to all of the courts and knew about many of their particular wonders.  He also knew where their best gardens were located.

As they sat in a small café, finishing a delightful lunch of sandwiches and fresh salads, they watched as the people of Velaris passed by. 

“I still can’t get over how normal life is here,” Lucien said with a shake of his head.  “They weren’t untouched by the war, but they’re so resilient, you’d almost never know.”

“Maybe that’s why Feyre does so well here,” Elain suggested.  “She’s resilient.”

Lucien nodded.  “Then no wonder you’re doing so well here too.”

Elain blushed and looked at the napkin in her lap.  “I feel better today than I have in awhile,” she confessed.

“I’m glad,” he said.  “I only want to bring you happiness.”

“What about you?” she asked.  “What would make you happy?”

Lucien was quiet for a moment which surprised Elain.  She half expected him to proclaim being in her presence was all he needed to be happy.  But instead he said, “I’d be happy to have everyone that matters to me find peace and a purpose that fulfills them.”

Elain blinked, processing that answer.  “Your happiness is truly tied to others,” she said.  “It’s so selfless.”

“Well not quite,” Lucien admitted with a soft chuckle.  “It’s all in an effort to have peace of mind.”

Elain laughed lightly and then they paused in their discussion as a little family of fairies passed by, a little boy holding each of his parents by the hand, face lit up like it was the best day of his life.  Elain couldn’t help but smile at that image.  Just like with Feyre and Nyx earlier that morning, though, she was struck by a chord of longing.

“You’d like to have that one day?” Lucien said softly, nodding to the family.

Elain looked at her napkin again, self-conscious that he could detect things like that down the bond.  “Yes,” she answered softly before looking up at him.

He smiled at her.  “I’m glad we’re on the same page about that.”

“Do you have any experience being around children?” she asked, still curious about what kind of father Lucien would be.

Lucien shook his head.  “Honestly, no.  There aren’t many children in the Spring Court, and I was the youngest in my family.”

Elain nodded, listening.

“But I’d like to try.  I have to believe that I can,” and then he stopped himself short.

“Can what?” Elain prodded gently.

Lucien shook his head.  “It’s been such a nice day.  I don’t want to spoil it.”

Elain frowned.  “You won’t,” she promised and then, without thinking about it, she reached across the table and laid a hand on Lucien’s.  “I understand if you don’t feel like talking about your family in general, but you don’t need to shield me from it.”

“I feel like I want to protect you from the ugliness that is the Autumn Court,” he told her.

“You really don’t have to,” she said.  “Even as your friend I want to support you in navigating that part of your life.  You don’t – I mean I don’t want you to hide it.  Heck, we’ve subjected you to Nesta,” she said with a little dry humor.

Lucien let himself laugh as he turned his hand over just enough to gently clasp her fingers.  “She’s got enough fire in her to rival any of the females of the Autumn Court.”

“Maybe we’d better hope for a boy then,” Elain suggested with a broad smile of her own.  “Between both our backgrounds, we might end up with a spitfire of a little girl.”

Lucien shrugged.  “There are worse things.”

They locked eyes for a long moment before Elain smiled nervously and gently took her hand back.

Lucien cleared his throat, also seeming a bit nervous and motioned to the café hostess that they were ready to pay.

As they resumed their walk through the city, Elain reached down and took Lucien’s hand in her own.  He looked down at their hands and then to her face in surprise.  She smiled at him.  “I think we can skip ahead a little,” she said softly.  “You’ve proven yourself to be respectful and patient with me.  I’ve already made you wait so long.”

“That doesn’t mean that we have to skip ahead,” Lucien assured her.  “We’re fae.  We have all the time in the world.”

Elain had to smile at that.  “I’m comfortable with this, though.  I promise.”

Lucien seemed to read her for a moment and then nodded.  He brought her hand up to his lips and gave it a firm kiss on the back.  “Now,” he said with a sigh as they continue to walk, “What else can I tell you about myself?

Elain smiled.  “Are you a morning person or a night owl?”

“Ooh!  Good question,” he replied.  “I’m definitely a night owl.  I can be up early if I need to, but I prefer to work late than get an early start.  You?”

“I’m afraid I’m more of a morning person,” she confessed apologetically.

Lucien shook his head.  “Maybe that works out for the better,” he said.  “When we have a little one, I mean.  I can handle late nights and you can handle the early mornings.  I’ve heard babies tend to be around the clock little creatures.”

Elain laughed.  “If Nyx is any indication, yes,” she agreed.  “I wasn’t sure if Fae babies were going to be any different than human babies.”

“And?” he asked, clearly curious about a verdict.

“They seem the same,” she said.  “Feyre said that fairy children mature more slowly though?”

Lucien shook his head.  “Some species of fairies do,” he explained.  “The High Fae mature like humans, though.”

Elain frowned.  “I had hoped that maybe being Fae meant I would get to have little ones a bit longer.”

“Well technically you can,” Lucien assured her.  “You’ll be healthy and young enough to bear children far longer than you would as a human so you’ll be able to have more, if you want, but you won’t have to have them all at once.  There are decades between my eldest brother, Eris, and myself.”

Elain hadn’t thought of it that way.  There was a certain appeal to the flexibility of raising a family like that.

They fell into a companionable quiet for a few minutes until they passed a jewelry store and Elain found herself drawn to the front display window.

“What kind of jewelry do you like?” Lucien asked quietly in her ear.

She looked back at him with a wry smile.  “I’m not going to tell you that right now.”

He feigned offense.  “Why not?”

“Because these are plenty for the time being,” she said, touching the pearls at her ears.

Lucien pursed his lips.  “They’re old news.  I’ll need something to give you in a few days.”

Elain frowned in confusion.  “You will?”

“The Autumn Equinox is coming and in my court, it’s a gift-giving occasion,” he explained.

“Oh!” she replied in surprise.  “I had no idea.  I was merely thinking that it was a festival to celebrate the harvest and drink warm things like cider and mulled wine.”

Lucien laughed lightly.  “Well that too,” he agreed.  “But just as we give thanks for the gifts the Mother provided through the year, such as crops and good weather, we honor her by giving gifts as well.”

“That’s a nice way of thinking about it,” Elain replied with a smile.

Lucien nodded slightly.  “So my question stands.  What kind of jewelry do you like?”

“Absolutely not,” Elain replied with a smile.  “You can get me something more reasonable, if you really feel compelled to get a gift.”  At the same time she was beginning to wrack her brain for something she could get for him.  She’d neglected him the last two solstices.  It needed to be very special.

Lucien sighed dramatically.  “Alright.  You’re forcing me to guess and I might guess wrong,” he threatened in a teasing sort of way.

“You did just fine last time,” she told him with a smile and looped her arm in his before guiding him away from the window.

They were on their way back to the River House when Cassian suddenly landed in front of them.  “Lucien, you should hurry.  It’s your mother.”

Elain felt him tense beside her and he let go of her arm.  She grasped him by the hand, though, instinctively wanting to maintain contact with him.”

“What’s happened?” Lucien demanded urgently.

“Eris brought her to us,” Cassian explained.  “She’s in bad shape.  Feyre is doing what she can, but Az has gone to get Madja.”

Lucien looked to Elain and then across the river towards the house.  He was clearly pained at the decision before him.  Elain didn’t think twice, though, and made the decision for him.  “Go, Lucien,” she said, finally releasing his hand.  “I’ll be right behind you.”

“I’ll fly her back to the house myself,” Cassian promised.

Lucien nodded, stooped to kiss Elain on the cheek, and then winnowed away.

Cassian turned to Elain.  His look of worry momentarily replaced by curiosity.  “You two seem a lot friendlier than the last time I saw you together.”

“We are,” Elain answered simply.  She realized that she’d moved quite a bit further along down the affection spectrum in just one day.  Maybe she’d been on the cusp of accepting Lucien before and spending some time together was making the bond stronger, easier to obey.  Regardless, she had a feeling that she needed to get to the River House as quickly as possible.

“Ready?” Cassian asked as he took a step closer to her.

She nodded and let him lift her into his arms before taking off into the sky.  Cassian flew them directly to the River House and landed on the front steps.  They hurried inside and found the doors to the sitting room closed.  In the hall, Nesta was bouncing Nyx in her arms as he cried.

“I don’t know if he can sense all the angst in this house, but he’s absolutely inconsolable,” she said over the crying baby.

“What’s happened?” Elain asked urgently.

“Beron,” Nesta answered simply.  “Eris just said Beron was to blame.  He’s in there with them.”

Elain turned and looked at the closed doors.

“C’mere, little guy,” Cassian said as he gently lifted the baby out of Nesta’s arms.  “Give your aunt a break.”

“Thanks,” Nesta replied gratefully.  She walked over and put an arm around Elain’s waist.  “How was it going?”

Elain nodded.  “We were having a good time,” she said quietly. 

Suddenly the doors opened and Feyre, Rhys, Eris, and Madja emerged. 

Eris looked murderous.  “Rhys,” he said simply.

“Tell me what you want us to do,” Rhys replied solemnly as Feyre took Nyx from Cassian.  “Agreement or no, this can’t be allowed to stand.  Not in the Prythian we’re trying to build.”

Eris scrubbed at this face.  “I’d like to say that my personal armies, along with my brothers', are enough.  I just . . . I need to know you’ll support me in case disposing of my father turns into a civil war in Autumn.  I don’t want the entire court to fall into chaos.”

Rhys nodded.  “We’ve got your back,” he promised.

Azriel walked out of the shadows stone-faced.  “He’s fortifying the Forest House against an attack,” he reported.

Eris nodded.  “I expected as much.”

“I’m going with you,” Azriel said firmly, making it abundantly clear that he wasn’t up for debating the issue, with Rhys or with Eris.

Eris looked like he wanted to argue but then a look of gratitude washed over his face and he merely nodded.  He reached out a hand to Azriel who took it and squeezed.  Elain had almost forgotten that the two of them were mates.  They had been keeping it a secret from everyone but the Court of Dreams’ inner circle and one of Eris’ loyal brothers. Beron would have had Eris and Azriel murdered, or at least tried.  To keep the peace in Autumn, Eris had decided secrecy was best for the time being.

“He won’t get away with this,” Azriel promised.

“Cassian, get a legion ready and start heading south,” Rhys ordered in his High Lord tone of voice.

Cassian nodded, kissed Nesta on the cheek, and then headed out the front door.  Elain was surprised that Nesta wasn’t running after him, insisting the Valkyries be included.  She didn’t spend much time dwelling on that, though, her eyes drawn back to those closed double doors into the sitting room.

After several long minutes, the door opened a crack.  Eris rushed for it and went in urgently, closing it behind him.

Elain stood next to Azriel as they both waited.

Unfortunately it was a short vigil.  The door opened again and Eris stormed out.  “Let’s go,” he said to Azriel in a low, deadly voice.

Azriel gave Elain’s hand a quick squeeze before he joined Eris and they winnowed out.

Lucien was moving much more slowly, staring at the ground.  He looked like he was in shock. 

Elain would never know exactly what happened in her heart that day.  It wasn’t as if she was still waiting for the bond to snap and yet it was like it did, but for real this time.  She took one look at Lucien and all she could see was that her mate was in pain and that she felt compelled to comfort him anyway she could.  She rushed to him, arms outstretched, and enveloped him in a tight embrace.

Lucien wrapped one arm around her waist, as if he didn’t have the strength for anything more, put his forehead on her shoulder, and wept quietly.

She reached up and caressed his head soothingly as she held him.  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered in his hear.  “So very sorry.

“He always had a temper,” Lucien said hoarsely.  “He always took it out on us to varying degrees.  But I never thought . . .” He finally wrapped both arms around Elain and held on tightly.

Elain just stood there, fighting to keep her temper under control.  She was so angry at Beron Vanserra for murdering his wife and for making her mate feel like this.

Surprisingly, though, Lucien lifted his head after only a minute or two.  Now it was his turn to look murderous.  “Did Eris already go?”

“Yes,” Rhys said taking a step forward.

“Lucien you don’t have to . . .” Feyre started gently.

Elain glared daggers at her sister.  “If that’s what he wants, he can go too,” Elain snapped.  Feyre and Rhys both looked at Elain in shock, but Elain ignored them, and turned back to her mate.  “Whatever you need,” she said softly to him.

Lucien looked in her eyes and nodded.

“Just make sure you come home to me.”

He bent his head close to her, gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, and then winnowed out.

Elain turned to see her sister and brother-in-law still staring at her.  “How long will something like this take?” she asked Rhys.

He recovered before Feyre and put his hands in his pockets.  “It depends,” he said.  “Beron is powerful, but I don’t know if he can withstand the combined power of his sons.  Then of course is the secondary conflict.  Eris and his third brother, Gerod, will be allies, but the remaining brothers might try to fight Eris for power.  In that event, this could be come a long, bloody conflict.”

Elain swallowed hard.  “So it’ll be Eris, Gerod, and Lucien against the other two?”

Rhys nodded.  “Hopefully Finn and Isak will accept Eris as the new High Lord and spare everyone the fight.”

“Alright then,” Elain decided with a firm nod.  “Then I’d better get to work.”

Feyre stepped forward and reached out a hand to Elain.  “Doing what?”

“Practicing a meal to serve him when he comes home,” she said simply and headed for the kitchen.  She had wanted to love her mate.  What she hadn’t realized was that she already did.  She cared deeply for him because of the bond.  But through Feyre’s stories and his own actions of love and respect, she’d actually fallen in love with him.  Seeing him heartbroken had somehow made her realize that and she couldn’t think about anything else besides accepting the bond and declaring to all the world that Lucien Vanserra was hers and she was irrevocably his.

[changisworld]

experiments

fem! Changbin x afab reader

word count:3,562

Summary: Binnie is your best friend & you both realise she is confused about her sexuality & she's curious on how it is to sleep with another girl, & who better to teach her than yourself?

18+, MDNI!! smut below the cut

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

->SMUT WARNINGS: Big tittie binnie heheh, fingering (Bin rec), oral (both rec), face sitting (reader rec), nipple sucking (Bin rec), tribbing, multiple orgasms, pussy slaps, praise, kissing kissing kissing>:3, fluff!, open ending

You are sitting in your bedroom with your long term best friend, Binnie! You're both sprawled out on your bed & you're just rambling about random things that come to your minds as you both scroll through instagram.

"That's what I said! I'm just not interested in Hyunjin in that way but everyone else was calling me crazy!" Binnie squawks as she throws her hand in the air, trying to emphasise herself.

"Because you are crazy! how could you ever reject Hyunjin?! I'm convinced nobody is ever gonna be your type!" you remark, not bothering to turn your head to look at her as you keep aimlessly scrolling on your phone.

Binnie huffs & you giggle before continuing. "Maybe you just like girls, Bin, i've always said I can see it! If you can't even find yourself fancying Hyunjin even a tiny amount, i must be correct!" Binnie scoffs at your words & you turn to face her, & you don't fail to notice his chubby cheeks a tiny bit blushed & it's not because of her makeup.

"Y/nnie stopppp! I just.. haven't, I don't like thinking of that idea!" she whines as she playfully punches your arm & you can't help but giggle. "Why not? You've kissed so many girls so what's different? All our other friends see it too!" you tease as you wriggle enough to lay on her chest, not intending to do it in a provocative way, but you can't help but feel & also hear her heartbeat racing.

"Because i've thought about that a lot recently! But feelings are kinda weird to me y/nnie, you know what i'm like! it's just scary to think about!" she cries as she plays with your hair absent mindedly as she watches your phone screen.

"Hmmm, I just think you're delusional Binnie! If you just say it out loud, you'd feel a lot better, pinkie promise, I can hear your heartbeat through your chest!" you chuckle as you reach & put your hand over where her heart is, trying to get a better feel over her tits & she tenses up under you, which isn't something that usually happens.

"Fine! Well I've just been kinda thinking of girls in a different light for a while but recently it's been a bit.. more! & lesbian porn just turns me on is all!" she admits & you move your head in a slightly uncomfortable position so you can look up at her, her bob framing he pretty face.

"& is that all? Cmon Binnie we are best friends! just spit it out!" you prodd at her, knowing she will spill the beans, especially after pulling the best friend card.

"I just, fine! I'm curious on how pussy tastes too! I watch lots of oral videos & i'm curious on how it tastes. Y/nnieeeee, tell me" he replies, her hands covering her face in embarrassment & you sit up fully, giggling & you boop her nose with your index finger & you straddle her, which isn't something uncommon for you both, but given the current conversation, you can't help but get a tiny bit fuzzy inside.

"Whyyyyy?" you tease her & she whines as she takes your hands & waves them around playfully. "Well why do you think, silly! I wanna try it but I wanna be prepared, I wanna know how I taste so I know if I'll need to chug cranberry juice every time I have sex!" she blabs, giggling up at you, her eyes trying their absolute hardest to not wander down to baggy sleep shirt, the neckline showing your tits in the hunched over position you're sitting in.

"You're so silly it's adorable Bin! It kinda tastes like warm skin, kinda like sucking & licking on your arm but it's just more wet but it has the tiniest tiniest tiniest more salty kinda taste too? & If you stick your tongue inside it kinda feels like someone is hugging your tongue & it tastes different, more strong in a way? but in a really good way!" you reply, sounding giddy. "We can just try it if you're that curious, for experience & all that, unless you already like someone n that's why you're so curious?" you almost queeze at your own words, wishing you could take it back because you've just realised this a bit far.

Binnie looks up at you with wide eyes & her face turns rosey red, even more than what it already was before & she awkwardly giggles. "How do you know I was waiting for someone?" she speaks in a shy tone, her voice high pitched. "I didn't! I was just guessing but now you've just confirmed it so whooo? what's her name hmm? Because you keep trying to avoid looking at my tits Binnie, is it meeeee?" you tease her, honestly not expecting the response she gives you back.

She looks up at you in a bit of shock, not expecting you to guess that easy, was it really that obvious? She can't get any words out & you know her so well to the point you know she's nervous & you have a huge incline that it's you, so before you can take a second to think about what you're doing, you're leaning down & you kiss her.

Her lips take a few seconds to intertwine with yours & it's obvious straight away that this kiss is nothing like the drunken kisses you would share together, but you're not gonna complain about it.

You pluck up the courage & you reach down to cup her cheek, moving the few strands of her hair out of her face as you lick across her bottom lip before you let your tongue loose in her mouth & she whimpers into yours as her tongue copies yours & her small, slightly chubby hands hold onto your waist & you almost melt at the contact.

You force yourself to break away from her plump, pink tinted lips, a tiny bit of her lip gloss plastered onto your lips & you begin kissing her cheeks & jawline as your hand moves to the hem of her hoodie before stopping. "Can I?" you murmur softly & she hums a 'yes' instantly & you sit up & she helps you take it off & to your surprise, she is only wearing a bra underneath, a plain white one, failing to fully support her big tits as the skin not cupped by the fabric is spilling out & you have to physically stop yourself from drooling all over them.

Binnie blushes at the way you're looking at her & she decides to add more fuel to the fire by taking off her bra & tossing it to the side, her dark brown, solid nipples already perking up & you bite your bottom lip, smirking up at her before you push her back on the bed again so she is lying down before you shuffle down to her big tits & push them together & run your face across the cleavage, both of you chuckling to one another as you do so.

"I could die here, can I taste em?" you question as you lay your head on her own two pillows, the point of your chin slightly digging into them. "Please y/n" she hums as she looks down at you, completely flustered & her bangs are messy in her face.

You can't help but get giddy at her response & you don't waste any time before taking her left nipple into your mouth & you both let out a small moan at the same time.

You let your fingers grab onto the other nipple to give it some attention as you suckle on her pretty nipple & her fingers find their way into your hair & rub lightly at your scalp, her breathing already getting heavier, small whimpers & hums leaving her throat ever so often.

"So sensitive, you're so good at this y/n" she groans & you can't help but notice how she rubs her thighs together, wanting something more.

You pop off her tit, her nipple an extra shade darker now & you giggle as you look up at her. "Do you wanna go further? I can feel your legs clamping together underneath me." you tease, still pinching & lightly tugging on her nipples, making her jolt & wince.

"Yeah, wanna taste you, please y/nnie." She whimpers but you shake your head in a 'no' & she pouts down at you, but it doesn't last long when you're pulling off her basketball shorts, leaving her in just her plain white cotton panties & you blush at the sight, her thick, plush thighs covering the area you wanna see most, but from what you can see, you can tell she has a landing strip which you can tell the shape of beneath the fabric.

You sit on the back of your heels as you pry open her thighs just enough so you can crawl & slot yourself in between & you are quick to notice the wet patch that has soaked through the material & you whimper.

"You're so wet already Binnie, you weren't lying when you said you are sensitive." you remark as you crawl up her frame again & practically lay down on her as you kiss her again, her bare tits connected to your clothed ones as your hand starts exploring her covered core, your middle finger running over the small wet patch, avoiding her chubby, big clit, teasing her.

"Don't tease, please! Want you." she pleads in between kisses, her hips thrusting into your hand & you experiment by giving it a light slap, making her whine.

"I remember you telling me you liked that when you hooked up with Chan" you purr, chuckling & Binnie moans at your words, in a strop. "Don't bring up my past hookups when I'm here fully naked in front of you! speaking of naked, get naked y/nnie!" she squeaks as her hands paw at your sleep shirt before deciding to just throw it over your head & off of you before you even have time to reply & her eyes widen at the sight.

You give her one last peck on her swollen lips before you start working your way down to her other swollen lips.

You take her panties off & you didn't think a triangle landing strip could be so hot on someone until right now & you give it a few kisses before kissing & nibbling at the inside spot of her soft thighs & her back arches as she fights back a whine, that's when you know you've found her sweet spot & you latch onto it as if it's your last lifeline.

The woman above you arches her back at the pleasure, trying her absolute hardest to not suffocate you in her legs, not as if you'd mind.

"Y/nnn, stop teasing or I'll genuinely cum from you just sucking on my thighs." she whimpers & you giggle against her leg before unlatching yourself, getting butterflies at the sight of the three little dark spots you've sucked onto her skin.

You lick your lips at the sight of her cunt, her big, pretty clit peeking through her fat pussy lips, a pretty dark shade. Binnie takes it upon herself to spread her folds for you in a 'V' shape & her clit is visibly throbbing & you can't hold yourself back anymore even if you were paid to, & you dive in.

Your tongue slides its way up, down & through her pretty, soaking folds & you can already feel yourself getting addicted to your own best friends taste. "So fucking sweet Binnie, when you eat pussy, it's good to tease a little bit, get a good taste of it, mkay?" you speak up as you rub her fat clit with your fingers, forgetting you're also supposed to be teaching her how to do all of this.

Binnie doesn't say anything but instead latches her hand into your hair & shoves you back into her cunt, both of you sharing a whine as you eat her out as if it's your last meal.

"Tongue s-so good, fingers p-please!" she whimpers & you can't bring yourself to deny what she wants & you'd never even dare think of doing so & you slide your index finger into her warm cunt, a small squelch noise rings in your ears.

You flatten your tongue over her entire core, flicking your tongue over her folds & her back is arching off the bed as her toes curl & she just cannot keep quiet.

You add a second finger into her already dripping core & it is met with almost zero resistance & you're over the moon that she is so relaxed so quickly & you start doing a 'come hither' motion as you latch onto her clit & harshly suckle on it & you let your teeth scrape over it ever so often & she is shaking in front of you, her legs shake around you as the grip on your hair gets tighter & Binnie can feel you smirk against her clit, slurping up all her juices.

"Gonna cum, cum, y/n I'm cumming!" she chants out & her legs snap shut around your head as her orgasm coats your fingers, her whines turning into husky squeals as your fingers are pretty much forced out of her hole as she clamps around you so tight & you rub on her clit with your thumb as you somehow remove your head from the vice- her thighs as you let her ride out her orgasm.

You lick your fingers as you watch the woman in front of you try catch her breath back. "B-best thing ever, we should have done this sooner, l-lemme taste you" she splutters & before you even move towards her, she is pulling you up towards her & you land on her upper chest.

She kicks your sleep shorts off so you're also completely naked & the second you sit on her chest, Bin can feel your wetness on her skin & you both giggle as you grind your cunt against her & she whines more than you do as her hands latch onto your ass & helps you grind, smirking up at you.

"I could cum like this i'm not even kidding, you're so pretty." you purr & you blush at your own words, so happy this is happening right now & you'd be lying if you said you haven't realised you have some sort of deeper rooted feelings from all of this.

"Well don't! I want to make you cum, cmere" she giggles, her fringe sticking to her forehead & the small layer of mascara smudged just under her eyes as her lip gloss is completely long gone by now.

Before you can think of a good enough response, you're being wriggled up until you're straddling her face, your cunt hovering over her & her eyes are glued to it.

"Your pussy is so pretty, can I taste it? sit on my face, I beg" she whimpers, her mouth watering. "That's scary! i don't want to crush you" you reply & Binnie rolls her eyes before grabbing your waist & pulling you onto her face, her nose bumping just past the pudge of your clit as she does so.

Her plump lips suction against your cunt as her tongue glides along your flaps messily, nudging against your clit, trying to find the best possible spot for you & you decide to help her as you pull up the skin on your pubic bone, exposing your clit fully for her & she takes the chance for granted & she kitten licks your clit, your own juices making her brain short circuit.

"Holy shit Bin, you're a fucking natural, tongue is so soft." you whimper as you hold onto the headboard of the bed & you have to resist throwing your head back, instead, you refuse to take your eyes off of Bins, her watery eyes looking up at you with nothing but lust & happiness in them & you accidentally start slowly grinding against her tongue, your cunt gushing onto her tongue & she is honestly sad that it's impossible for her to get any deeper into your pussy.

Binnie is kneading the fat of your ass like a cat as she digs in, groaning into you, mumbling words but they're so muffled you don't even bother trying to understand what she is babbering on about, but the vibrations of her inaudible words are sending pleasure up your spine & as much as it breaks your heart to do so, you use your strength to pull yourself off her tongue.

Bin tries to chase after you with her tongue, pouting & whining at the loss. "Your clit was throbbing in my mouth, why'd you stop? You were gonna cum!" She cries out, your juices still all over her face & you giggle at how flustered she is beneath you.

"Wanna scissor you" you reply, a cheeky smile on your face as you start to shuffle down to spread Binnie's legs but she beats you to it & tosses you beside her & she takes the position between your legs, planting your left foot to the floor & sits on your right thigh before aligning your cunts up with one another.

Binnie lets a glob of spit fall from her lips, the coldness landing right on your cunt, making you hiss & grind against air & she giggle above you, deciding whether or not she should tease you & keep you waiting but her own patience has worn too thin & desperation is far too much & she sinks down so you're both connected & you both let out a satisfied hum.

Binnie starts grinding herself against you, her big clit almost entering your hole each time she does so & you genuinely think you're about to leave the planet.

Binnie's big tits are jiggling each time she thrusts & her short hair is swaying & you just can't take your eyes off her & you pinch at your own nipples & Binnie whines along with you at the sight.

"Your clit feels so good Bin, you're so pretty, Oh fuck." you keep muttering, your voice cracking from how breathless you are & you try wriggle your waist a tiny amount to get that extra crumb of friction & Binnie notices & he pulls up on her pussy, her hand flat against her dark pubes & exposes more of her clit to your eyes as she is chasing her second release.

"I feel close already y/nnie, your tits are so hot, your cunt is so warm, so wet!" she squeaks as your shared wetness is spread across the inside of both of your thighs & she can feel her orgasm bubbling up & she thinks fast & she spits onto her fingers & aligns them up with your hole & enters her index & middle finger & starts scissoring them in & out of your hole, squelching noises filling the room almost as much as the slick noises of skin rubbing together & your shared whimpers.

Your back arches off the bed when her stubby fingers find your spongey spot & you squeal.

"H- holy shit, I'm gonna cum Bin, don't stop, clit feels so good." you say as you writhe & Binnie half smirks above you, loving how she is making you feel. "Wanna cum with you y/nnie, g- I'm gonna cum, pussy is so go-good" she stutters as she tries her best to keep up her pace & you're so thankful for that because the second her fingers change angle & her pudgy button rubs against yours, your legs are shaking & your orgasm hits you like a brick wall & your leg hits against her chest.

Binnie cums only a few seconds after your own orgasm starts, the look of bliss on your face enough to send anyone over the edge, she stood no chance.

She shakes above you & you reach down to grab her plump ass, helping her grind against you, trying to ignore the overstimulation that's setting in, just to milk the extra bit of pleasure for Binnie.

She flops down beside you & practically pulls you onto her, your face resting against her tits & you cup as much flesh as you try cup as much of her tit as you can with your hand & you simply rest it there.

"That was honestly the best thing of my life, I definitely like girls, who the fuck was I kidding." She speaks up & you giggle at her words as you squish her boob like a stress toy as your other hand rests on her tummy, grazing your nails over it.

"Told you! but on the other hand, I think we need to talk Binnieboo." you reply & she hums a 'yes' response as she plays with your hair.

->Taglist is open! ->Anon list is open!

A/N: This is kinda experimental & I honestly have no idea how well this will do, but depending on how well it does, I'm willing to make a fem!skz masterlist :3 This may or may not be completely inspired by a girl i slept with last week heheh

[blossomxlush]

HeyHey, for the prompt

Maybe Hajime Hinata x Reader with

10. Surprise~

You got some good taste that's all I can say -

Warnings

Make out sesh because yes, Reader wearing lingerie, gender neutral reader because request did not specify readers gender, Hajime being subby and flustered at first then more of a Dom towards the end (Mf rlly switched teams half way through the game I see you) and fingering so reader has female parts

𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

This font is like narrator or sumthin 3rd pov ig

Okay let's start now 👌

3RD POV

hajime had gotten a text from his S/O on his way home saying that they had a surprise waiting for him, he was intrigued but he knows how mischievous his Partners surprises can be but none the less he was still excited

Hajime's POV

I walked through the front door of our apartment to see the lights were off but there were many candles lit along all of the hallways so you could see were u were walking

I sat my bag down and made my way to the door of our room

𝚈/𝙽 𝙸'𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 hajime shouted out before opening the door to their room to see many candles but also the few lamps in there were red but were bright enough to light up Y/N'S figure which was sitting on the edge of the desk but there was something different

They were wearing lingerie

I could feel my face begin to heat up

Y/N'S POV

I walked towards hajime embracing him leaning up to his ear before muttering the word I longed to say the entire night he was gone...

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞~

hajime was still very flustered

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎? he spoke softly

𝐎𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐲/𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐥𝐲

Hajime lowered his hands to his S/O'S waist before pinning then against the wall earning a small gasp from them

𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍 hajime said before pressing his lips to yours for a few seconds before continuing

𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 he continued and began to kiss you rather roughly earning him a muffled moan As he slipped his tounge into your mouth effortlessly

The make out when on for a minute or two before you were both outta air and hajime leaned down to your neck kissing your collerbones looking for your erogenous zone

he gritted his teeth on a certain spot of your neck earning a moan from you

𝐇-𝐡𝐚𝐣𝐢- you got cut off as you felt something prodd at your entrance

it was none other then his finger which slid past the lace and entered you causing your legs to tremble As he did not start off slow at all

𝐇𝐚- 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨-

you got cut off once more by hajime's free hand crept up to your mouth shoving his fingers inside you mouth while pressing his knee against your waist to ensure you stay put

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛?

"𝚂𝚘 𝙸'𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚒𝚝"

I'm sorry if this ain't what u expected or what u wanted and if it's not I can re do this just not at 1am when I'm tired but can't sleep - blossom

[fandomdaydreamer]

The Lighthouse and The Ocean

Pt 25 - Tragically Longing

Pairing: Pedro Pascal/OFC

Warnings: angst, valium consumption

Summary: Pedro's and Nini's break up takes a heavy toll on her until she receives an unexpected visitor on Christmas Eve.

Notes: Also find this fic on Ao3 -here- or the series' Masterlist and Playlist -here-

Sorry for the wait, life's been sooo busy Q_Q

Length: 8k

~

The Tweet had followed a couple of days after our break up.

Pedro Pascal he/him;

I am disgusted by my so called "caring fans" who send @ninivanfleet hate or threaten her! Please be sensitive, for this is painful enough.

What a noble way of finally publicly admitting that we weren't together anymore.

Of course, words of our break up had gotten out, right along with rumours of one heartbroken Pedro Pascal moping about in forced society.

Truth be told, I didn't even blame him for the severe backlash I received because if he even felt half as miserable as I, he would have broken down and cried every time anyone on the job had come up to ask if he was okay. But guess who was the bad guy? The one having pictures of him running through the streets of Brooklyn with a bouquet of flowers or the one who had released an aloof rock song that was addressing her ex?

The unmistakable sound of eggs cracking against my door and my security yelling at the perpetrators rang through the living room. So let them, I thought and dug deeply into my ice-cream. It reminded me about the fact that this was entirely my fault.

At one point in my life, I must have forgotten what real hurt felt like. It was the incomparable sensation of keep hanging on, full of heartache and anger and still, endlessly in love. None of it made sense, the suddenty of our break up, the excruciating pain and tragical longing. No amount of screaming or crying would ever help.

I wasn't in touch with life itself anymore for the time I hadn't seen the light of day. I had come to merely endure it while Nine Inch Nails blared through the house.

Everything I know goes away in the end

I kept eating my chocolate brownie Ben and Jerry's, slowly spiralling into the song's heavy music as I sprinkled my desert with two valium and fed myself a spoon full of misery.

I will let you down, I will make you hurt

New tears spilt down my cheeks when I looked back ahead. As often these last couple of days, I remembered the things Pedro and I had said to each other. Hurtful things that had torn away the ground beneath my feet, things I'd never expected to come from him. Not him.

How badly I just wanted to beg him to come back.

Alas, the harsh bangs of whatever rotten stuff hitting my door and office windows were not easily mistaken for a visitor. Still placing full spoons of soft ice cream into my mouth, I was tempted to throw the pint down the hall and at my door.

"Fuck off!" I yelled against the music instead and scared the cat to flee upstairs again, poor thing.

Too many days and worried friends later, there were still no messages or calls from Pedro, even after I had given in and tried calling him. I only reached voice mail and broke connection before the beep. No visit or tearful reunion would ever happen or even a fantasy of me heartlessly turning him out again after he begged me to take him back. No, it seemed he was determined to keep his word. He stayed away and I stayed stagnant, lying here for hours or for weeks.

Until the contracted interviews spent hidden behind dark sunglasses, with constant supervision and fake smiles. There wasn't really a night show to appear on or stage lights to feel exposed in or a hyped up audience who listened to the fruits of my love and heartbreak. There was only the possibility that all of this was just a bad dream and I had taken enough pills not to notice.

The audience roared. Mere moments later I blinked and suddenly I was backstage again, ripping the wires off my body. They were still cheering for Pedro's song when I walked through the exit and wiped away my tears.

Fingers prodded at my cheek and neck. The hand on my shoulder felt invasive, my skin was cold an numb. "Oh, no, darling. Not again." A dull, faraway voice rang past my veil of vengeful bitter thoughts and sweet valium hazed memories. The people's silhouettes looked like my friends, but my vision refused to focus for a few seconds. "Nnno, leave me." I mumbled tiredly and almost went back to sleep to ignore Hugh tutting about and sorting through my mess while Olivia went to flush my pills down the toilet. "Don' tell Tom." I only managed to say, fearing my best friend would leave me too if he knew I had broken my promise to never rely on tranquilizers again.

Sammi had been the one examining my pitiful, drugged condition. "It's alright, come here. Hang on, baby, hand on-" Strong arms picked me up and next thing I knew, I was put into bed, dozing in and out of consciousness in the ambiguous light of the Venetian blinds.

I just wanted to sleep and have dreams. Dreams of a wide ocean and warm brown eyes and an even warmer laugh. His picture on my nightstand, his clothes on my chair, and me in my bed without the warmth of my life.

"Promise me to keep an eye on her?" Olivia's voice. "Of course." Sammi sighed from somewhere at the foot of my bed as he tucked in my feet.

His sweet but muted, incoherent voice telling me that I'd be alright again only made me cry into my donkey stuffie.

Yet here I lay for another week, worn out and unwilling, barely even present, wondering if I'd ever rest in peace.

On Christmas Eve I finally promised myself to start healing and accept Hugh and Sammi's help. I sent the security home to their families and visited my neighbours and pump some life into me with a rich variety of food and some of Sammi's famous umm-ali pudding. Somehow they even succeeded in making me smile again with their uplifting trash-talk and sweet Doo-Wop atmosphere.

It meant much to me but nevertheless, I had called it an early night and dropped onto my side of the wall. After a lengthy call with my grandparents, I decided I would take the next flight to London tomorrow morning. It was the first day I met with hope. Hope that I could disappear for a while and take some time off.

My own song played in the kitchen when I came home to my cat and I shut the radio with a sigh. 'The Lighthouse And The Ocean' was hitting the top ten charts. Not that Pedro cared. "I wonder what became of the original record I sent him." I muttered, more to myself than my cat. "Maybe he threw it in the dust bin or melted it. Maybe he made the disc a frisbee and it's lying a ditch somewhere. Stupid, he could have least sold it on eBay." I tutted.

Poentje grumbled, otherwise, everything remained quiet. My brain wasn't muddled with medication anymore. It had begun to snow outside and though I was tired, a softness I hadn't allowed to resurface before made me yearn for comfort instead of self-destruction. Sometimes, it was just you and some leftover Manakeesh against the world. This was good. Maybe I'd even touch my guitar again.

My voice had grown only weary these days. "Zuur pruim," I pouted at my cat when she turned her nose at my affections. I was in desperate need of a cuddle but she was having one of her stubborn episodes, most likely the aftermath of the rock music abuse. "We got you a ragdoll, they said, ragdolls always want to cuddle, they said," I complained, chewing and faking my insult.

A sad smile grew on my lips when I got an idea and abandoned my greasy food. "Just wait, I know exactly what you like." I left my living room, hurried up the stairs and into my closet to open a drawer and pull out the softest jumper I 'didn't' own, the grey cashmere one that belonged to Ewan and my cat adored even more than me.

Replacing it with my current piece of clothing, it dawned on me that I had a stereotypical habit of never returning my ex's clothes. But when I pulled it over my head, I immediately basked in its softness and regretted nothing.

Downstairs, Poentje's yellow orbs lit up when I emerged with one raised brow, presenting Ewan's very long-sleeved jumper like I wore it for a fashion show. "Like what you see?" I asked her and mirrored her arrogance from earlier when I strutted past her towards my sofa. My back had barely hit the cushions when my little purring machine had already climbed onto my belly and started kneading dough. "Aha," I said in triumph but my initial victorious feeling was replaced by utter sadness. I was comforted by someone who loved me no matter what.

The heartbreaking realisation that I was apart from the one person I needed it from most struck something devastating inside me and my eyes welled up with tears again. It resulted in my cat chucking up and down with the sobs I produced. Yet Poentje purred loudly and stepped onto my chest, kneading my boobs and staring at me through soothing cat eyes. I cradled her soft body and she let me squish her against my chest. "I miss him so much." I cried miserably to her but the feeling only intensified as soon as I had admitted it. My cries poured into the room until my cat got uncomfortable and bolted at the hysteria.

She looked up at me expectantly, licking her lips. I sighed. It was either taking care of her or passing out in tears again. "Why are you hungry all the time these days?" I quizzed her uselessly. "Chicken soup, how's that sound?" Poentje meowed with a high voice I knew was her agreeing statement. I sniffed and walked over towards the kitchen. Maybe I could make do with a distraction. Maybe I had some stuff I could use to make biscuits from scratch.

The little song I sang her sounded nasal and pitiful. Poentje received her dinner while I collected the ingredients for granny's famous gingerbread men and I selected a soul playlist. Every song would make me cry but I could try my best.

Hey, this was good. I could do this. I could move on. Eventually. After a while, my apron was over and over scattered with flour and bits and pieces of dough. I had made a mess out of my kitchen during my manic baking episode but it blended in perfectly with the mess around my entire living space.

Soul music continued ringing familiar tunes over towards my spacious kitchen area. Keeping myself busy was helping and made me feel less alone. Although Poentje didn't like gingerbread and I didn't know if she could even appreciate Otis Redding.

The night continued while my thoughts drifted into a fantasy realm of the potential happiness that had slipped through my fingers. If only Pedro would call back. If only he'd show up on my doorstep and let me hug him close. How often had I thought we'd finally found the one? It had been so easy to tell ourselves we were already married and were meant to be a real family one day.

I sobbed at my already tear-infused dough, wiping my eyes with a sleeve until they felt raw and puffy and then I cried some more.

Pedro deserved the world and now I knew I wouldn't be in it. He was also a huge arsehole and I imagined his stupid face in my dough as hit it with the rolling pin. "You said you'd never leave me!" Bang bang bang! Poentje jumped off the bar. All those broken promises. Lies. "Motherfucker!"

'Slip Away' started playing and I lay the pin down gently again and rolled it out evenly, cutting out my gingerbread men and painting second tray of them in butter.

I sniffed into my elbow and caught one last tear before I refused to start crying about the painfully obvious, mainly why I kept ending up alone. I had managed to fuck up every single relationship of my life but I was determined to never love again. I've had it.

The first tray of of gingerbread biscuits was waiting to cool off and I hadn't even gotten rid of my apron yet when the doorbell rang.

"Pedro?" My head shot up in hope. Maybe it was him. Whoever it was, they had to have had the code to my gate. I ran to the door and ripped it open.

Specks of snow had settled onto his coat and beanie and the warm light from the inside of my house illuminated a face I had so dearly missed and yet had dreaded to ever see again. The cold night air hit my body and still, I could have sworn the sensation of feeling solidly frozen came from being caught in his eyes.

My lack of energy didn't make me sound as surprised as I really was. "Ewan." I gasped, having never expected 'him' to show up.

Nonetheless, Ewan smiled as if the sun was radiating from inside of him. That cheeky, toothy grin of his, the kind of smile that made you think he'd invented it. "Happy Christmas, Nini. I- umm... I wasn't sure you'd be home." He said, slightly breathless.

"Hap- Happy... Christmas. What are you doing here?" I stammered, still looking down at him from the top of my stairs. It was only then that I noticed the beautifully wrapped present in his hands.

"I came to give you this." Ewan held out the present and I gingerly took it while carefully avoiding to let our hands touch.

"All the way from LA?" I replied, feeling as puzzled as ever when I looked back into his blue eyes. This was overwhelmingly awkward but he was not an unwelcome guest. "Would you like to come in?" I asked anyway, sounding a little nasal. "I wouldn't want you to freeze to death and I made gingerbread."

A somewhat strange expression appeared on his face for only a split of a second. Almost as if hurt and sorrow mingled with his surprise at my simple offer of hospitality. "I would love to." He gulped out.

I stepped aside to let him pass into the house and close the door behind him. "What was that smell?" He asked curiously. Ewan shivered out the cold clinging to his limbs. Like old friends, we greeted each other with friendly kisses on our cheeks and I smiled when he remembered the Dutch kissed each other three times.

"Rotten eggs people tend to throw these days." I excused the faint odour lingering on my porch, even after the regular cleaning service one of my friends had organised. "But it keeps the bugs away." I sarcasmed as Ewan began shrugging off his winter clothes. His hair had become somewhat floppy in the front and he ran a hand through his thick stubble. The navy blue jumper suited him. Putting his coat on the hanger to dry, he moved so naturally like he'd just done this yesterday and in a way, it was hard to imagine that he ever went away.

"Oh, yes. Christmas bugs." Ewan grinned broadly and at least made it sound like this made total sense.

My smile grew tired.

"I see you were busy. I hope I'm not intruding." Ewan noticed and I shed the kitchen gear in an awkwardly flustered way.

"No, well... at least you're not Carol singers." I joked dryly. I was still holding my oven miffs and looked down to see the mess on my apron, wishing I had put more effort into presenting myself at the door. Oh fuck, I was wearing his jumper.

"I can still sing you a Carol." Ewan promptly began teasing me in his good natured way and before I could protest, he began singing, softly and wonderfully. "In the bleak midwinter, Long, long ago-"

Grinning, I could hardly hold his gaze and I rolled my eyes about at the blush creeping up my cheeks. When he managed to catch my eyes again, he sang into my face. "Angels and Arc Angels may have travelled there." Finally, I gave in, harmonising with his tune until my voice cracked and my eyes began to sting with fresh tears.

Ewan's expression turned tender and worried. "You've been crying." Ewan noticed and I bit my lip to hold back a sob.

I nodded but refused to cry in front of him. "Pedro and I broke up," I explained the obvious and he cooed at me, rubbing my arms in a comforting way. "Yes, I... I heard. What an idiot." He remarked and I shook my head.

I somehow put up a too-brave femme fatale act to amuse us both. "It's probably okay. I live for raw emotions. Yes, I already made up my mind." I shrugged and threw my hands up. "Become a sad and possibly problematic rock star. Sex, drugs and rock'n roll. Live fast, die young, become a legend. Forever beautiful and tragic." I predicted and believed that my new year's resolutions consisted of becoming the most disastrous version of myself.

"Oh, you always were dramatic," Ewan replied with a tut, leaning in with a warm smile until I scoffed at him in a rather fond sort of grumble. "I wish I could say it'll get easier." He added.

"Life?" I asked, bitterly and let him walk me into my house while I turned my present in my hands, stopping myself from showing too much of my inner turmoil. Maybe he had come here just to go down memory lane and give me a hard time.

"Or love." Ewan laughed or maybe, just guessed. "If it's any comfort to you, I was kicked out too." He said with a sudden weariness in his voice and I frowned, turning back to him.

"Shit- the wedding?" "Paid for." "Damn." "Yeah."

"I'm so sorry. How could I feel comforted at that?" Hugging him was an impulsive reaction but it was nice and he pulled me closer with a sigh. "Yeah, me too. Shite holidays for the both of us."

"It's really good to see you though," I admitted back at arm length. Despite everything, his presence was comfort, he felt like family, like history. An old friend I didn't know I needed.

A fuzzy dark head poked out of the cat tree and began to cuddle against the fluffy little nook as soon as she saw Ewan walk in. "Oh, look who it is! Hello, Poen." He petted my cat's head and I was surprised at how loud her half purr, half meow had been. "I think she missed you." I wondered and watched her jump down towards him to practically slam herself against his leg and let him pet her. Honestly, where was the sisterhood solidarity? I crossed my arms and scolded her with a silent glare.

Poentje blinked at me and strode off to possibly find another napping spot and knock herself out on my bed upstairs.

"Tea?" I offered, finally remembering what a good host was supposed to behave like. "Yes, please," Ewan quickly replied. Walking into the kitchen area while unfastening my apron, I was only half aware that he slowly followed behind.

"It smells fantastic," Ewan noticed as I busied myself with the kettle and the selection of the tea brand I knew he liked best.

"You know my gran's recipe but oh, better don't eat any, I think I cried on most of them." I cringed at the plate of perfectly fine-looking gingerbread men.

"Should I reconsider then? Oh, wait not a chance." He looked like a child on literally Christmas Eve when he took a shaped biscuit and settled on the stool behind the kitchen counter.

I awaited his reaction as he sank his teeth into the man, biting his arm off and his eyes lit up in delight. "How are they even better than I remember?" He asked, watching me select a gingerbread man myself and chew on his head.

"I added orange zest this time. Some extra heartbreak too. Makes it oh, so sweet." My words had taken a sharp edge.

"Delicious." "Oi." I snickered with him while he profusely apologised for the really bad joke.

When the kettle was done boiling I let the tea brew in silence as if the task of dipping the bags into hot water required my fullest attention. But when it was time to add the milk, I had no excuse left to not face him again. Setting his mug in front of him, we finally took an honest look at each other and I could see he was tired and troubled. A guarded conflict stirred behind those eyes I'd sung songs about.

"Thanks." His expression was strange. He had obviously noticed that I was wearing his jumper and I sighed, not even caring about what he thought of it.

"Ewan?" I asked carefully and although he didn't answer, he was listening. "Don't get me wrong but I know when you're acting, I mean.. hiding something. You don't have to. Not with me."

It was only then that I was met with an expression which slowly betrayed a hidden sadness. Ewan took his time before he could muster a reply and I didn't push.

"You always see right through me, don't you?" he circled his mug and made little waves ripple through the milky liquid. The memory our past relationship was implied and it bothered me that he was sitting here, reviving my hurt and crumbling down my progress. It felt like bitter-sweet torture.

"Were you only just delivering a present? What are you really doing here?" I asked, poking the box with my index finger.

He looked up from his tea. "I know you just got back from a job and just broke up with someone and I will leave if you need a little peace and quiet but... My daughters are with their mum over the holidays and I.. well, I guess I wanted to see a friendly face. Thought we might both be happy with some company." After a pause to let his explanation sink in, I gave him a compassionate smile and nearly touched his hand to show him he was not alone, retreating last second. I couldn't help but feel bad I had not wasted a thought about how he might have been all this time. Turned out we were both a bit lonely while everyone else was with their families. "I'm sorry to hear that," I said, abandoning the gingerbread and cupping my mug for warmth.

"Don't be," Ewan replied softly, lifting one corner of his lips.

Secretly, I was pleased that we had gotten to a point in our post-relationship friendship where we could turn towards each other if we were two sad, abandoned singles who felt like retreating into mutual understanding. We didn't need to explain ourselves to each other, we never had to. Of course, I would be there for him if he needed me, even if it meant that I could only offer my sympathies when he had broken up with someone as well. That must have been cruel for both of them. After all, they had been planning to get married. Pedro and I had only lasted one month.

"Shall I open it?" I suggested as a change of topic, sounding a bit more cheerful as I pulled at the silver satin ribbon and raised one eyebrow. "What is it?" He chuckled and instead of giving into my inquiry, his eyes twinkled and he took a quiet sip of tea.

It was a flat box with a lid and when I had removed that too, I was met with the sparkling reflection of dainty, silver hair combs in the shape and texture of crystal daisy flowers. My breath had become a little shallow as I took in their magnificence. "Ewan, they're beautiful." I raised one of the combs from the box and noticed that it was heavier than I had thought.

I began fumbling with my messy braid and tidy it up a bit but Ewan was quick to assist. "Allow me?" He offered and I nodded. I turned my back to him while he rounded the bar and approached me from behind. Silently, I let him arrange my hair and for the first time during a very long and carefully kept distance, his fingers were touching the skin on the side of my neck. Practised fingers from years of doing his daughters' hair gathered my braid into a knot until I felt Ewan sink the combs into my hair and hold it in place.

His melodic voice behind me grew quiet, for he was right behind my ear. "I don't know what's normally the custom for what to gift one's former girlfriend but even if it's not pretty jewellery, it reminded me of you and I thought you needed to have it." I hadn't realised I had been holding my breath until I turned back to him and let him twirl my curtain fringe to shape them around my face. I was smiling before even looking up and seeing him standing right in front of me.

"Thank you," I whispered, smiling despite my slight discomfort. He was close. Way too close. I had genuine friendly platonic feelings for him and wished he wouldn't ruin it. Holding his gaze, I frowned at this suspicious behaviour. What were we doing?

Ewan took a breath as if he wanted to say something and he chose not to take my hands into his, even though I saw he would have wanted to. Instead, he took a step back and put his hands into his trouser pockets.

It was almost like shame struck him then. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me." He nearly turned away, grinning shyly.

Finally, our mutual awkwardness relieved some of my tension. "It's okay. We're both in a vulnerable state." I accepted it and tried a step towards healing. "What happened?"

Ewan struggled to tell me but eventually, he admitted. "I heard your songs. Well, and so did my fiancée." He said, his grumpiness then changing into tenderness. "They're beautiful and I- I didn't know you had this in you- and then I got a bit too defensive about them I guess. About you."

I was torn between guilt and compassion. "Ewan, I'm so sorry. Shit, I keep ruining everything, I-" I cried but Ewan interrupted, gathering my hands in his.

"No, no, you're soaring, darling girl. Don't ever apologise. I just- I know I hurt you. You said, in your songs, how much you miss me and I couldn't bare the thought of... taking the light inside of you and it..." He shook his head. "It killed me."

My hand came to rest on his reddish bearded cheek. "You didn't take anything," But assuring him of this seemed to make him even sadder. I stopped smiling, realising the touch was too familiar.

"Here you are, treating me with kindness when we both know I didn't deserve it." He replied, taking my hand from resting on the side of his face to hold it. "When I rang your doorbell, I didn't know what to expect. Maybe that you would turn me away and slam the door but-" his voice cracked. "-you invited me in for... gingerbread." The waterlines in Ewan's eyes were shimmering when he finally looked up again. He had laughed out those last pair of words and the raw emotion in his voice had caused a tear to run down my cheek.

Ewan saw it before I had a chance to wipe it away. "I'm sorry." He told me. "I seem to keep doing that."

My voice sounded strange to my ears. "Yes, you are." A moment, in which we both didn't know what to say passed through us.

This was the difference between Ewan and Pedro. Ewan made me feel small and delicate in a way I couldn't imagine being anything but perfect and sensitive for him in every way. With Pedro, I had allowed my faults to surface unfiltered because I knew he accepted me with all of my layers, and let me be vulnerable the way I needed to be. I used to cut parts of myself off in a destructive manner to fit into the person I was before but that wasn't possible anymore because I found that nothing was like it used to be

I chuckled. "What happened to the good old, 'I miss you' text from your ex?" I guessed.

Ewan joined in with my restrained laugh. For a moment, it seemed like bitterness and regret had struck him. He took a moment to gather his courage. "He does... miss you." "Ewan-" "More than you think." I didn't know what to say but he beat me to it anyway. He gulped heavily. "You're right. I'm not... I'm not over you."

"No." I frowned, not believing him and looked down at our hands to pull mine back and hug myself. "You might miss me more than you remember me." I turned away when his presence started to hurt again. It was true, I had just taken it as a fact that I had closed this chapter of my life. Why was he telling me this?

Our eyes met, mine hazy, his begging me to listen. "I miss your laugh, your jokes... your kindness. The way you sing when you're busy or the creative, yet absolute mess you leave behind in every room." We looked at the kitchen and both cracked up a smile at the evidence. "I remember, all the things I did not appreciate enough... and which memory only seem to be opening my eyes now that they're gone."

I closed mine so I could gather a clear thought. "Where were you six months ago to tell me that? I can't do this anymore."

"I didn't know what I wanted." "Yes, you did. You wanted to get married!" "And you wanted to be with Pedro." "Maybe it only means we both tend to drive our partners away cruelly."

Ewan shrugged with a nearly cocky smile playing on his lips. "Seems like we could make a good pair after all." He concluded.

I let out a deep breath, shaking my head at him. "We deserve more than being each other's consolation, not feel like the unclaimed prize at some kind of wheel of fortune." I tried to reason. We just weren't meant to be.

"I know." Ewan sighed and I felt his hand on my arm, thumb gently brushing against his jumper. Slowly, he started to speak. "But just know- there's no one like you, you're so sweet and gentle and... funny. You're a big win, never a consolation prize." He said, sincere and uplifting.

"Thank you." It made me smile, yet I sighed and channelled my last bit of humour. "And here I thought you were living your life. I should have told you that in case you ever have a bad day, just remember you were a sensitive topic in my relationship."

It made him chuckle a little and it grew on me, warming me up inside.

I could finally breathe more freely and left his proximity, realising I wasn't being myself. I didn't want Ewan here and my voice finally showed it. "I used to think you left a hole in my life but I have just begun healing things that haf already been messed up with... light and happiness and with lasagna with an enye," I argued, bordering on grief.

Ewan didn't understand, of course, but he didn't ask either. I thought about the happiest time of my life and bubbling laughter and about the easiness and freedom I had never experienced with another person before. None of those feelings could be provoked by Ewan. They belonged to Pedro and me. "Now that's over too but you know me, right? I don't know how to let go."

It was all too much. I paced the room, feeling hot and cold and itchy. Slight panic crept onto me and I circled my bracelet around my wrist in a hurry.

"I feel dizzy," I admitted and felt my body tilt forward. Ewan caught me and held me up by my arms. "Please, let me help you sit down."

With what felt like clouds in my lightheaded mind, I smiled at the way he spoke with a soft Scottish lilt. It was in this moment of weakness that I wanted to just row back and fall into his arms. Return to what I assumed would be easy and familiar. Numbed down and perfectly content in docility.

Ewan directed me towards the living room area and I sat me down on my sofa. He left to grab something from the kitchen and sat right next to me as soon as he returned. I accepted the glass of cool tap water but recoiled at the faint smell of chlorine. "Thank you," I said anyway and forced myself to take a sip.

I wiped away another tear when I continued to spill my heart out. "I just wish I didn't have a heart at all. You said it yourself, I shouldn't loved you either."

"No, Nini-" "Yes, that's what you said." I was close to sobbing and I let myself be held by him.

"But it's not what I meant." He spoke in such earnestness I could almost believe him.

Ewan let his hand rest on my lower back to offer me comfort. "I said it because I was absolutely crazy about you and calling it off was the hardest thing to do because it was unfair to you. Maybe if I hadn't been such an arse, we would still... if you could ever forgive me-"

"Oh, why are you saying these things? I accepted your apology already." I gasped for words. Have mercy.

I turned away from him with a laugh. "I poured my love into that song when I wrote it but it wasn't a recent feeling, let me be clear. I published 'Blue Eyes' because it's a good song." I had almost had enough. "Ewan, what do you want from me?"

He looked at me with sad eyes. "I can't bear to see you hurt." he began. "And I had to know how you felt about me." I had to take myself away from him because I couldn't pretend there were only cold feelings between us. I knew I could have done worse than loving him.

I couldn't escape his gravity but the memories and feelings kept coming back. My head sank onto his shoulder so softly. I could just give in, I was nearly there. Why did I let him card his fingers through my hair and kiss the top of my head like this? Why did I let my body sink against his body and return to him when it made me feel homesick for a place I would never see again? Did he think he could just turn up out of the blue and expect me to start things over when whom I really wanted was Pedro... I wasn't considering it... I wasn't- I was so sad, I would die for the feeling of being loved again.

Regret, that we had lost us too. Now we were in the same boat. Both, desperate to revert into comfort. We would kiss and everything would go back to the way it was.

With all the strength I had left, I broke our longing gaze and lifted my body up and away from him. "Ewan, we can't do this. I can't tear open an old wound, can't risk another heartbreak." I whispered and turned my face the other way and yet, I felt a hand tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He caressed my cheek with the back of his fingers afterwards, like he had done so many times before.

"I understand." He smiled and his voice sounded so pleasantly smooth when he spoke beside me. "I know I will never deserve you but if there's one thing I don't regret, it's the time spent with you. I would have not gone back home if there had been even the smallest chance that you had wanted this."

Our eyes met and I remembered the way I had looked at him more than ten years ago. Adoring, for there was nobody whom I had loved for so long. I touched his face with such slight and tiny butterfly caresses and then my hand smoothed out the hair on the side of his head.

The devil on my shoulder told me that kissing Ewan could never feel as wrong as it should. His nose was tilted at mine and my breath must have grazed his for a second. Maybe my downfall would be my fault because I was dangerously close to kissing him. He would push me back into the cushions. He would kiss me like he had come back and he would taste like tea and gingerbread.

Our bodies gravitated towards one another and as I leaned in, I felt him drowning out all of the alarms that had been ringing inside me. Could we really try again? It could feel serene, numbing. Would I even care if I made the same mistake twice? His eyes flickered down to my lips and he carefully closed the distance. We could try.

Wait a minute. Rewind.

A mere inch away from his lips, my eyes shot up and I felt the gears turn in my head. Promptly, I pushed myself away by a hand firmly placed on his chest. "Not go back? Wait, did you or did you not break up with your fiancée for a chance to get back together with me or-" I was about to pass this as a stupid thought when I caught a glimpse in his eyes. They darted to the side and the way he looked at me afterwards and didn't respond spoke a thousand volumes. His body had tensed up and he failed to speak the truth or even exhale.

The strand of hair fell back in my face as I tilted my head in disbelief.

"Oh.. my god." I suddenly felt repulsed and got away from him. "You didn't break up with her at all! You're still engaged? And you're here trying to kiss me? What the fuck is wrong with you?" I cried out angrily.

He tried to hold me back by my elbow. "Just one word from you and I will call off the wedding."

I shrugged him off. 'Homewrecker', the last point on my list of faults. "Oh, no! Nooo no no, no. This cannot be happening again. You know what? That's it." I jumped up and leaned over him, spitting out my rage. "I can't believe I almost fell for that twice. I was this close-" I showed him how close by bringing my fingers an inch apart together. "-to let myself be wrapped around your finger again, letting you into my life- my... my bed- while a hurt woman is sitting at home, hoping she's the only one for you. Am I supposed to feel flattered?" I practically yelled out.

I threw my hands up. "Well, if this is closure, then it's a good thing." Strangely, I felt nothing but release. All this tension, heavy weight and guilt fell off my shoulders as they shook with a cold, ironic kind of laughter. Count myself deluded, he hadn't changed one bit. Oh, I was so done with him.

"Why?"

"Because you're a fucking ocean and I'm an ocean and we can't be a lighthouse for each other."

"What? Darling-" he began but I interrupted him, emphasising each word. "Don't darling me." I bit out. He had gotten up and it was obvious that I was inviting him to leave my house. "You should go back to your fiancée and if you have any decency, ask her to forgive you for deeming her one aspect of your choices. Or ask yourself if you're doing her or yourself a favour by getting married at all." I was finally putting a bullet into the head of our relationship. This wasn't the storm after the calm, this was the dying breath of whatever past we shared.

"I see, if this is the wrong time-" his silly excuse was interrupted by my moment of clarity.

"It's never the wrong time, it's just the wrong person." I closed my eyes against my palm, letting the truth sink in. This meant the right person at the wrong time was still the right person. Oh, Pedro. I was such a fool.

I sobbed out, desperately aware of whom I let simply leave. "I love Pedro and I met this person, you know this person I want to take care of and am comfortable with like I've known him my whole life and I don't have to pretend anymore, be something I'm not or be... anything. I've never- I've never cried so much because I finally thought I knew what true love was." I spoke through tears.

Of all people, I wouldn't have guessed that Ewan would be so moved by my outburst. His lips had parted as he truly reflected upon my heartbreak and seeing the tears forming in his eyes only made my cry harder and uglier. "Pedro said he loved me and I turned him out." I balled my hands into fists. "I loved him since the first time we met and I will love him forever and I wouldn't have it any other way."

A moment of silence and defeat wavered into the room, in which I sniffed my tears away.

"You need to go to him," Ewan said and I looked up from my hands.

"What?" I asked dumbly and found myself at the receiving end of a soft, compassionate smile.

"Tell him you love him. If the man has two wits together, he will beg you to take him back immediately." Ewan said. My gaze flickered back and forth, trying to find the lie in his eyes. "It's very clear to me. You both want to be with each other. What are you waiting for?" He said like it was just that easy.

Well, could he be right? Neither Pedro nor I could ever feel complete again. If I just vowed my undying love then, maybe...

Slowly, I started nodding. "You're right." Determination clawed at my bones. My skin felt antsy. "I'm going to tell Pedro I love him."

Ewan was properly grinning now. "There, that's the Nini I know."

I huffed out a confused laugh and was about to leave immediately when I smelt something burning. "Damnit, the biscuits!"

"Fuck the biscuits! I'll deal with it. You go." He ushered me away from the kitchen.

"Thank you," I said, hectic and passionately and kind of, still mad at his audacity. "For making me realise what's important. Show yourself out!" I threw back over my shoulder as I ran towards the door.

"Nini, wait!" "Hell, what now?" "A coat, put on a coat!" Ewan called after me and I yanked the first coat off the hanger I could find and jammed my feet into a random pair of boots.

"Goodbye, Ewan!" I slammed the door behind me, skittering to a halt at the edge of a pavement covered with a thin layer of snow.

"Taxi!" I screamed and put myself in harm's way to make it stop in the middle of the street. The driver honked at me but I had already ripped open the door and climbed in to shuffle into the seat and tell the him to push it. "To Red Hook! Go go go!"

I would knock on his door, I would knock it down if I had to, I'd cry out how much I loved him, that I wanted to share my life with him- should I have brought a ghetto blaster?

We were driving too slow, the traffic was riling up my nerves but I had a smile stretched from ear to ear when jumped to the edge of my seat. We were nearly there.

"Stop the car!" I ordered my driver and he looked back in confusion. "Ma'am?" "I said stop. I'm walking." I paid the man a hundred dollars and moved out of the taxi to run the last block while trying not to stumble across my open laces.

But just when I turned around the corner into his street, I was stopped dead in my track. My feet came to a skittering halt and the shock ran down my spine colder than the winter's chill.

There he was.

I saw Pedro walk down the road and I stared for a while as the world around me disappeared.

It was unmistakably him and he looked so well. Pedro was walking down the street towards me, to his apartment building with an umbrella in his hand and a gorgeous woman hooked onto his arm, shielding her from the snow as they talked and laughed.

My lips parted as I took in the scene before me. She was so pretty, young, with dark hair and long legs, a model beauty queen. Each carried a grocery bag under their arm and she leaned into Pedro who was grinning about something she said. He draped his arm around her shoulders and she gave him a long kiss on his cheek as she held his cloudless face in her palm. His hand rested on her back affectionately when they shared a laughter. My heart shattered anew.

I was cold but I shivered for a different reason. They walked inside, not noticing I stood here, nor anything around them.

I remained in the dark, freezing, undetected, watching them enter the building and disappear into the warm light with smiles on their beautiful faces.

The orange glow of the city lights got reflected in the white streets. The snow fell tantalising slow from the heavens as the innocent intruders on earth that they were.

I stood there for several more moments longer to digest what I had just seen. Pedro was fine, more than just fine apparently. What did I expect? He was a handsome and kind man, he could have anyone. It couldn't have been hard for him to find someone new fairly quickly. Too late. I was too late.

Looking up the snowfall without explanation, I wished it was me up there. All those white specks swam before my vision, spiralling down the black sky and circling so perfectly among their kind and yet so alone in their journey. I stared at the descending frost and could finally relate to their short existence as I imagined all the things I should have said and done to prevent this. As I caught a snowflake, I watched it melt in my hand and it was the saddest thing I'd ever seen.

I turned and felt numb as I walked home in whiteness, dragging my feet down the street and not caring about the world any longer once it had stopped turning. Walking along the empty street, my eyelids flickered like the movies, in a screening of my dream that had slipped out of reach.

~

Part 26

Translation notes:

(dut): Zuur prium - (eng): grump

[xe-5aj1700155-024]

Organ Tapes + Noctilucents - NI ZAI NA LI ((Dead Bart \ User2222 ,prodd)) ,2016

[tony-gunks-italian-pizzeria]

Chapter Four: Choices.

Tony sits in his dining room chair, at his table looking out at the tall multiple storied buildings full of people still at work as the clouds begin to gather and rain begins to fall. He frowns and thinks, “Wonder when Sam is gonna show.” The not so fresh pie needed heating up so he throws it in his oven, sets a timer and sits back down. The timer ticks, and ticks. “Its almost done and she still hasnt-” Knocking sounds from the door, “Ah there we are!” Tony exclaims, “One second!” He gets up and rushes to the door. “Rich, is that you in there?” Samantha asks as Tony opens the door. She has a look of surprise at Tony's appearance, he doesnt quite look like the man she grew up with. “Sister!” Tony yells going for a hug, “Good to see ya!”

“You sound different. And uh, look different."

Tony remarked, “Amazin though, right?”

The man Samantha knew looked a little pudgy, had an aged receding hairline, wore thin square glasses and exclusively wore button up shirts and a smile. The smile remained, sharper than ever but it was the only thing that did. Richard couldnt grow facial hair to save his life but here he was with a mustache, thick and healthy with curls on either end. He wore black dress shoes and fitted pants, the stomach he had before was now nonexistent along with his spectacles. Slim like a branch almost and with those same kind eyes, now sporting an unfamiliar fire. Richard stood tall, with a slightly unbuttoned white dress shirt and loosened bowtie. His balding head was now adorned with shiny, slicked back hair that showed mildly worn and out of place from the days work. 

“Yeah i guess i had a makeover in recent months.” Tony joked.

“Rich, what ever could have happened? Why havent you contacted anybody? Papa? Moma? Not even Steel's heard from you.” Samantha questioned, concern and upmost confusion in her voice.

“You know how i feel about Steel- i uh, lets not start like that. Please, sit at the table? I've got a pie in the oven, ya know those are my speciality, and ive been on a roll with my new recipe!” Tony cheers.

“Sure thing, but i want a thorough explanation, Rich.” Samantha says sternly.

“Of course, Sam, you'll get it, I'll tell ya everything. But first, please, call me ‘Tony’.”

The timer goes off, Tony pulls the pizza from its rack in the oven and sits it on the table in front of Samantha. “Soo, Rich.- Tony. We heard about you and your old buddy's joint burning down. Have you been depressed since that happened?” Sam inquired.

“Oh, that old place! Time there was good but I'm passed that nowadays. I have a new store now anyhow, hehe?” Tony answers.

“Oh, do you? What then made you stop checking in with Ma and Pop?”

“Well, im definitely not depressed. Im happier than ever these days. Y'see sis, ive starting living for me!” He grins.

“So you just decided to outcast yourself from the people who raised you?” Sam argues.

“No! Sis- no. I just- really? Four months just aint a big deal.” Tony frowns.

“Pop is in the hospital, he couldve thought you went with your shop for heavens sake!” Sam yells.

Tony looks away and out of the window. “It should be cool enough, the pie- Give it a shot, wouldja? Im proud of the new style im going for.” He prodds.

“I will. But im leaving if i dont get a straight answer. Pop and Ma will be outraged if they hear you've been doing fine this whole time.” Sam says bluntly.

“They'd be outraged to hear im doin swell, eh? Sounds awful backwards. Take a bite, please.” Tony says with a flat expression, still staring out the window.

Samantha grabs a slice and outs it on a plate, “Fine. Is it the same recipe as at Brocc and Kind's?” Sam asked, Tony chuckles, “Awhh nah, completely different style.” She takes a bite and asks, “This is really good, what did you change?” Tony leans in and says, “The sauce is blood.” “You're lying, heh. What's your problem these days, Rich?” Tony gets up and walks to the deep freeze, “Nah i wouldnt lie. That's the truth, imma vampire now. Cruel and undyin’, sis.” Tony shows off his fangs. Samantha annoyed says, “Alright, if you're not just full of shit. Why would you feed me this?? I mean im not a vampire.”

“Sure, you're not. But i like my fun.” Tony smirks, “Oh!! Ideaa, do ya wanna be?” He's enthusiastic now, “Here let me just bite ya, doesn't have be your neck! It wont be weird. Then you can feel as alive as ive been feelin.” Tony opens the deep freeze and reaches his hand in.

“If you're a vampire what do you eat? Pizza?” Sam asks sarcastically

“No silly, this!” Tony hoists the top half of a half drained, frozen man out of the freezer, “I keep him here just in case, heha! Although it'll take a while to thaw, i havent got much time away from work, ehhh i make due though!” Tony chuckles.

Samantha's eyes are wide with horror, “a real person? In Richard's freezer?” she thinks. His carefree smile, the implications of his words, the pizza she just ate. All of it too much to conceive or handle. A scream of bloody murder unleashes from her mouth that she's unable to stop. She gets up, knocking her chair down in the process and bolts for the door. “Ahh, cmon sis! Please!? I dont wanna kill my own- ehh- blood!” Tony pleads after her. “No! You stay the fuck away from me you! I wont let you do to me what you did to Rich!” She hollers, fiddling with the knob and locks. “Whaddya mean? I am-” the door opens, Samantha bursts through and slams it behind her, “-Richard.” Tony finishes, defeat in his voice. He takes a deep inhale, holds it in for a moment, then releases. “Fuck.”

[yarnclan]

Crystal Clan Part 10!

This only covers half a year. I might switch to just posting every half year or half season since they are getting longer and longer.

11th Newleaf

Drizzlepaw proves to be something of a prodegy. She's a gifted hunter and takes to her warrior training immediately. Within a little over a moon Stonewhisker recommends that she be made a full warrior. Thornstar is rather hesitant, given her young age, and short time officially training as a warrior, but when she manages to bring a fawn that she killed herself back to camp. He has to agree. She's named Drizzlepounce. Emberpaw, whom she's pretty close with, and younger than, is a little jealous, but also doesn't want to let it ruin their friendship, and just puts more effort into training.

Emberpaw also stops, and gets the others to stop leaving Mintpaw out of things.

Goosetooth dies of whitecough. Goldcreek is especially distraught, though all the medicine cats are upset. Even Orange, who's normally rather aloof, seems a bit shaken. Goldcreek chooses to blame Orange, though it's really more of a reflection of his distrust and hatred for the other medicine cat. They have a pretty public argument, which results in Rosypelt stepping in to mediate things. She does her best. Orange reveals that Gosetooth had known hi was bound to die soon, which is partily why he'd confessed to Goldcreek. Goldcreek is still very upset, but blames Orange a little bit less, and does believe him on the one particular thing.

Sweetbite, taking to the mediator role about as well as his sister took to being a warrior, is welcomed as a fully fledged mediator. He's far more willing to talk with other clans than any of his fellow mediators, making him an invaluable asset.

Snapheavy is finally made a warrior. Dusktooth proved to be a methodical teacher, and Snappaw stays and apprentice longer than most. But by the time he passes his final assessment he's shown he's a compassionate and capable teacher. Especially with younger cats, leading to him getting assigned Hoppaw soon after his warrior ceremony.

Hoppaw's brother, Marigoldpaw worries his way into being Spottedmint's apprentice. Not wanting to take part in any battles or killing. After Goosetooth's death Spottedmint decides to stay out of retirement until Marigoldpaw is trained.

Martenshine and Tulipnose welcome Stoatkit and Echokit into the world. Soon after Dusktooth and Carpleg welcome Hornetkit, Flutterkit, Mosskit and Mitekit into the nursery.

Unfortunately, a massive colony of wasps has taken up residence in the clan cavern. Hoppaw, curious and not trained on how to deal with such a threat, prodds the nest a little too hard and unleashes the wasp's wraith. Many cats are stung, but some of the youngest, Conekit, Stoatkit, Mosskit, and Mitekit die from the poison. Hoppaw feels absolutly dreadful about this, and falls into a dispare spiral. It's not helped by the fact that, while the clan was trying to hide from and deal with the wasps, Marigoldpaw was separated and attacked by a dog, sustaining some awful tail injuries.

One morning, not long after the wasp attacks, Orange sees Tangle in his dreams, the other cat fading away. He'd once considered Tangle his best friend, the only cat that he thought might have actually understood him. But he'd shunned Orange for the sake of furthering his own power and influence. And now, Tangle has died, apparently killed by someone else if the wounds on his ghost are anything to go by. Orange wanted to be the one to kill him, or to prove that he was good enough to keep around, maybe by taking over a clan and killing Tangle. It's a bit much. Orange gathers up Jumbleclaw, Ripplestripe, and Chasingegg. And tells them. Ripplestripe is similarly upset she wasn't the one to dish out vengeance. Jumbleclaw and Chasingegg are mostly relieved. Chasingegg wants to take Emberpaw back to their old clan. She does ask Emberpaw about this idea, who is extremely distraught at the idea of leaving her friends and the place she's grown up in. Chasingegg insists that they at least pay a visit, even if they decide to return to CrystalClan, she wants Emberpaw to have an oportunity to see the clan she was born in. And also hopes that she can convince her to stay there.

They do go on a journey to try to find their old clan, Jumbleclaw going along as well, he and Emberpaw get along mostly fine, though Chasingegg is still resentful towards him. Though he saves Emberpaw from a rushing river, and she respects him a little more after that. When they reach the territory of their old clan, Chasingegg can immediatly tell something is wrong. The camp seems to have been somewhat recently abandoned, save for the bodies of many of their former clanmates. Chasingegg is extreamly distraught, and the other two carry out a somber burial and vigil. Emberpaw does find a surviving kit however. They name her Wingkit and decide to return to CrystalClan with her. She's taken in by Lightstrike and Badgerclaw. Jumbleclaw tells Ripplestrip and Orange, theorizing that the cats must have been killed in some kind of conflict with Tangle, and the rest of them ran away. Though they really have no idea, and there was also no sign of Tangle, or several of the other rouge's bodies. Wingkit doesn't have much in the way of coherent information, and seems pretty traumatized by what ever happened.

A former kittypet, turned loner named Shimmermane invites himself to stay with the clan. Many are divided, the medicine cats are pressed as it is, and taking in any outsiders now feels like a bad idea. But many feel it goes against the spirit of the clan to be unwelcoming to outsiders, and also enjoy Shimmermane's stories and fun-loving attitude.

Ripplestripe announces she's having kits. She and Orange never made their relationship public, but many have guessed. Goldcreek is filled with rage and jelousy, given that his mate just died so soon after realizing their feelings. It just adds to the pile of Things Goldcreek Hates About Orange.

Egretwing announces that she and Fringepelt are expecting kits. Vineshell, her sister and best friend is really happy for her!

Fishfalcon is full of pride as Emberpaw is named Emberdawn. She's grown into an observant and compassionate cat, but is still full of fire.

11th Greenleaf

Jumpeyes and Vineshell become mates! They love to talk about StarClan and stuff together.

Glowberry is also now awaiting a second litter. Jeeze Hoppaw and Marigoldpaw are still young apprentices, it hasn't even been a year!

Basspaw is very excited to be an apprentice, her mentor, Jumbleclaw is happy to have an excuse to get away from Orange. And is fully prepared to act like he Doesn't Have Any Weird Abilities.

Honeypaw's ready for adventure and excitement as an apprentice, and is very happy to have a cat as respected and experienced as Cricketspeck for a mentor.

Shrewpaw is an uncommonly patient young cat, very different from his sister, Honeypaw. His patience is sure to be honed under the strange and often obtuse Pinefreckle.

Peatpaw was pretty upset that Drizzelpounce got made a warrior early and after only training as one for a moon. And then is upset when Emberheart becomes a warrior, and also seems to prefer talking to Drizzelpounce and her stupid sister Mintpaw over her. When they used to be best friends. She's also not particularly thrilled with Hoppaw always being such a downer, she feels sad all the time too! but she doesn't whine about it constantly. She starts a pretty one-sided fight with him, and also gets the newest other apprentices involved. Pansypetal is not pleased but doesn't do much about it.

Basilkit and Brackenkit are born to Egretwing and Fringepelt, the two of them happy as can be.

Lightstrike and Badgerclaw also announce they are expeciting a second litter. Guys, it's been like 6 months....

The newly named Mintfoot has done well under Forestpool, despite some difficulties with her denmates. Becoming very faithful to StarClan as a comfort during the times when she felt alone. She becomes a fantastic hunter and is the pride of her mother Lightpelt. It might as well be the worst day of Peatpaw's life though. She barely even bothers to hide how mad and jealous she is. And takes it out on poor Hoppaw. For once he snaps back, and the two have a little verbal tiff that almost feels enjoyable.

Silkkit is the only kit born to Orange and Ripplestripe.

Marigoldpaw's tail heals enough for him to really start his training. It's been a long road, but he gained a lot of perspective and appriciation for the role he's training for. He and Hoppaw don't get along as well as they did when they were kits. Marigoldpaw has tried to do what he can to ease his brother's guilt over the hornet and dog incident, but he also had to focus on recovering up til now. He's hopeful he can do something, or receive some kind of guidance from StarClan to help his brother.

Velvetclaw is bitten by a snake and dies from the poison :<

Spiderkit is the only kit of Glowberry and Pansypetal's second litter. Though she's pretty close in age to Marigoldpaw and Hoppaw. She's a bit too curious and as soon as she can walk she wanders off and gets scraped up on the sharp rocks. Both her brothers become pretty over protective after that.

Emberdawn is given Wingpaw as an apprentice. That morning Wingpaw had had a strange dream of the place she was born. Of an odd cat with extra long claws and a scar across their chest killing everyone.

Peatpaw probably would have combusted from jelousy if she weren't finally made a warrior right after, gaining the name Peathawk.

Shrewpaw gets his eyes dammaged after mistaking a hare for a rabbit.

Thornstar gets heat stroke. And Lightpelt takes over running the clan for a bit, even guiding everyone to a gathering. She does a good job, Thornstar is very very proud. even Ridgetalon begrudgingly gives her some praise.

On her first real border patrol Wingpaw is very ferocious towards a trespassing rouge. Emberheart is a little concerned, but also impressed by Wingpaw's speed, and fighting ability. This cat is later found by Lightpelt's patrol, suffering quite a bit from her injuries. She was actually quite impressed by the small, but speedy Wingpaw, and asks if she can join the clan to learn to fight that good. Lightpelt agrees, and they welcome Seven into the clan.

Seven is cute, she has a little heart.

[gladerscake]

Nightmares

(Gally x Reader)

Some hurt/comfort for y’all, have a slice. I got kinda teary-eyed with this, that has to mean I did something right lol Requested by @ultraintrovertedgryffindor ♥️ Enjoy!

The Safe Haven was beautiful. Warm, peaceful, free from all the dangers and chaos you all had grown so accustomed to over the hectic course of your lives.

After being there for a little over five months, surrounded by people you loved and basking in a comfort you hadn’t ever thought you’d come to know, you were finally starting to let the dreadful memories you carried with you fade into the back of your mind.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t always easy, especially when it was time to go to sleep. You had no control over what your dreams might bring you, there was no predicting whether you would wake up with a serene smile or be jolted awake in the middle of the night with tears rolling down your face.

At least there was one constant in your ever changing sleep scenarios.

Gally.

Sleeping right beside you every night with his burly arms wrapped snugly around your smaller frame and the warmth of his body that brought you to paradise, you could always count on him to make your nights as close to perfect as they could be.

If you had a nightmare, he would instantly sense your writhing and whimpering and immediately pull you out of it, gently shushing you and rocking you with ginger care until you fell back asleep.

It went without saying that you were always ready to do the same for him.

Naturally, you weren’t the only one still plagued by some of the darkest moments of the past. You couldn’t decide which one of you had it worse but more often than not you would think it had to be Gally.

You both had been through things no one should ever have to go through, seen things that wouldn’t be erased from your minds for a very, very long time. However, on top of everything, the guilt that still weighed upon Gally’s shoulders was much heavier than yours.

Your eyes squinted with bleariness as you were brought out of your sleep by unusually restless movement next to you.

It took you a mere few seconds to realize the source of it.

Gally’s expression lacked anything resembling tranquillity, his brows pinched together, jaw clenching and unclenching, with strained grunts falling from his parted lips as his jagged breath came out in short pants.

That put your senses on alert instantly. You quickly scooted over, eyes widened with concern as you gently shook his shoulder, endeavoring to wake him up.

“Gally… Gally, wake up!” You insistently whispered, getting louder with every soft shake. Your heart clenched as another miserable grunt tumbled from him, the distressed crease on his forehead prominent, in all of its glory.

“Gally, come on, wake up!”

His eyes flew open as he was suddenly thrown back to reality. You had to pull back a little as Gally sat up on the bed, his chest heaving while he frantically looked around the room as if to confirm he wasn’t in the nightmare anymore. You gave him space as he leveled out his breathing and calmed his rapidly thumping heart before his slightly bloodshot eyes finally landed on you.

He didn’t have to say a word, you already knew what he needed.

Without missing a beat, you flung your arms around him, pulling him into you and holding him as tightly as your strength allowed.

Gally immediately returned your embrace, his face burying into your neck as he clung to you like a drowning man to a lifeboat.

Succumbing to your warmth, letting your delicate scent fill his senses and your comforting whispers bring him back home, Gally drew in a deep breath as he felt your soft fingers tenderly carding through his short hair.

You pressed a lingering kiss to his temple, not letting go. Of all the variations of nightmares Gally had, there was one in particular that would torment him more than others and you were fully aware what it was. In a way, you and him actually shared it.

“Were you back there again…?” You prodded, carefully, your voice just barely above a whisper.

There was no need to elaborate, he knew what you meant. Gally’s hold on you tightened as he silently nodded his head.

It was the worst day of your lives. The day that left you both scarred in different ways, and for Gally the scar was not only figurative but literal, too. Adorning the left side of his chest, just below his collarbone as a permanent reminder of the most haunting moment ingrained in his memory.

You never blamed him for what happened, not for a second, and Gally was thankful for that. If only he could say the same. No matter how much time passed, it appeared to be the one thing that did not get easier to live with, not for him. Every time he thought about it, he was back in that lab, griever venom coursing through his darkened veins, pointing a gun and ultimately pulling the trigger. It was still painfully fresh in his mind and that just made it easier for the nightmare to claw its way back to him.

You counted your blessings - it did seem to be coming back less frequently lately, but now and again it would still show its ugly face.

With a deep sigh, you squeezed Gally’s shoulders in comfort, not saying anything else. There wasn’t anything you could say to make it all go away, though you would’ve given anything to release him from all the anguish. As many times as you wanted to tell him that Chuck wouldn’t have wanted him to suffer and blame himself for the rest of his life, you were never sure it was a good idea. Gally did blame himself, and you couldn’t change his mind. All you could do was be there for him when he needed it, and considering how much he loved you… He always needed it.

Your lips trailed the softest of kisses along his brow bone, his forehead and down to his cheek, as far as you could reach with his breath washing over your neck in a much smoother rhythm now. A tinge of relief flowed through you as you felt him gradually relax in your embrace, the tension draining from his body.

“They’ll never go away, will they?” Gally whispered, solemnly, against your skin, his words shooting an icy sting through your heart.

Your hold instinctively tightened as he pressed his forehead in between your neck and shoulder.

They had to go away, someday, they couldn’t keep going forever. Waiting it out was possible, but it was clear that time wasn’t the deciding factor in this. Time wouldn’t heal him like something else could.

You knew what that something was, and even if he wasn’t entirely ready for it yet, you would remind him. Over and over again, how ever many times you had to.

“They will…” You murmured close to his ear, your fingers soothingly caressing up and down his bare back. “They’ll go away when you forgive yourself.”

Gally huffed, pensively, giving you a careful squeeze around your waist. That sounded good for sure. He thought he was getting closer to it, but every time he did, the nightmare would come back, force him to relive it and drag him right back to square one. He needed to break through, needed to find that light that would bring him out of that miserable cycle. With everything else, that light for him was you. But with this… This was something he had to work out on his own and he truly couldn’t say he knew how.

Gally shook his head, a dull tiredness pervading his strong bones.

“I don’t know if I can.” He admitted, releasing a heavy breath as you slowly pulled back from the tight hold to finally catch his gaze.

Your cupped the sides of his face, your thumbs softly stroking his skin. The love and tenderness that brimmed your eyes as you looked at him was making him weak in the only way he didn’t mind.

“You can.” You assured him, quietly but firmly, sounding like you genuinely believed it, because you did. You believed it enough for the both of you and you were determined to make sure Gally joined you. Eventually.

“You can. Not tonight and probably not tomorrow… But you can. And we’ll get there together.”

A ghost of a wistful smile touched the corners of Gally’s mouth as his hands lifted to curl around your delicate wrists by the sides of his face. He leaned slightly forward, his forehead gently pressing against yours, all the while you kept your gaze on his.

“Yeah… Together.” He repeated in a half-whisper, his heart beating with the promise of that day getting closer.

You leaned in, pressing a doting kiss to his lips as Gally reciprocated, his arms finding their way around your frame once again and pulling you into him.

You didn’t break the kiss as he guided you both to lay back down, only pulling away when you felt his warmth and closeness beginning to beckon you to the brink of sleep.

Gally’s lips then pressed to your forehead before he looked at you again. His eyes reflected everything you felt - the love, the security, the hope. The reassurance that there was nothing you couldn’t get through as long as you had each other.

“I love you.” Gally breathed, causing a blissful smile to grow on your lips. No matter how many times he said it, it never failed to fill you with unremitting joy and lull your heart to its most contented pace.

“I love you, too…” Your whisper graced Gally’s ears as he smoothly brought you closer, your face burying in his chest.

The nightmare surely wasn’t done with him or you just yet, that wasn’t the end of it. It would be back.

But not tonight.

And you had no doubts that someday, hopefully sooner than you’d dare to imagine, the two of you would finally be free from it. Especially Gally.

Tags: @obsessivelycapricious @magnoliabloomfield @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @maraudersimp @abundantxadorations @izzymultifan @willseyebrows @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @anniemylennox @gallysonegoodlung @joemomma2121 @lattsgocaps @sherbertscarrothead-2 @lullabaesstuff @crazysheeplyca @thesuitkovian @lefreyja @blanknamed @mastersurf @kyoe