#when spins are dormant

[a-walking-fandom-reference]

sucks when a special interest goes kinda dormant and you need to like move around the stuff on your shelves because it’s less of a “priority” in a way

[badlydrawnmanic]

doodled some baby ultra beasts (edit: now it’s all of them!)

info below the cut :3

baby nihilego (UB phoresis) is a pure rock type. it doesn’t have access to its adult form’s mind-altering poisons, but it will still try to sit on other creatures’ heads, possibly hoping they will transport them somewhere new as they aren’t very good at the whole “moving efficiently” thing yet, either. it’s more or less just a smaller nihilego, given how baby jellyfish are just smaller versions of their parents

baby buzzwole (UB pest) is a pure bug type. while it has wings, it isn’t very strong yet and can barely fly, though it is incredibly determined when going after prey. it’s more of an annoyance than a threat, and typically has to go after slow moving or sleeping prey to actually get a chance to bite them. it’s based off of a mosquito larvae (albeit with wings) and the red parts on its head resemble overinflated pool floaties

baby pheromosa (UB nymph) is a pure bug type. they lack adult pheromosa’s pheromones, but will follow their parent’s scent trail very closely, learning crucial behaviors through mimicry. despite adult pheromosa’s aloof appearance, they will fiercely protect their young, keeping the curious, exploratory child out of trouble. it’s mostly just a smaller pheromosa, since baby cockroaches also just look like smaller versions of their parents, but the antennae shape is supposed to resemble a bow

baby xurkitree (UB spark) is a pure electric type. they will float on the wind to disperse from their parent, plugging their tails into the ground once they find an adequate spot. they will sometimes be seen linking together, forming long, twinkling strings. they are based off of christmas lights, specifically the spare bulbs, and when they evolve, it’s like a lightbulb bursting

baby celesteela (UB sprout) is a steel/grass type. as seen in the anime, they can be found buried underground in a dormant state awaiting proper growing conditions. once unearthed, they grow at a rapid rate, evolving quickly into celesteela. i didn’t design it, but its design is based off of a bamboo shoot and a swaddled baby

baby kartana (UB cut) is a grass/steel type. while they seem small and harmless, they have a tendency to spin rapidly towards anything that catches their attention, struggling to stop and slicing into it or even getting stuck in walls and trees. sometimes adult kartana can be seen commanding small swarms of them. i struggled with this one, but they’re based off of paper fortune tellers and ninja stars

baby guzzlord (UB hangry) is a dark/dragon type. they will gladly eat anything that is presented to them, remaining jovial and endearing so long as they have something to snack on, but will throw rather destructive tantrums once they get hungry again, letting out terrible, shrieking cries. adult guzzlord often abandon their own young out of annoyance, preferring to pursue their own gluttony alone. their design is mostly just a smaller version of guzzlord, though they vaguely resemble a jack o lantern, and the patterns on their knees resemble band-aids

baby stakataka (UB component) is a pure rock type. it is less of a baby and more like a single piece of the group making up an “adult” stakataka, these pieces very rarely being seen on their own. when crossing paths, adult stakataka won’t redirect their movements, each group sort of passing through each other and swapping pieces in the process, potentially as a way to share their knowledge. researchers disagree on whether it an individual piece would be called a “stako” or a “taka”

baby blacephalon (UB pop) is a fire/ghost type. when hit with a physical attack, the balloon making up its head will expand, stronger attacks causing larger growth. when significantly stressed, it will explode into a shower of confetti meant to stun or distract its attacker, allowing the body to run away, regrowing its head shortly after. i mostly just wanted this design to look weird, but it is loosely based off of those carnival games where you hit a target and it inflates a balloon, those confetti balloons where the confetti mostly sticks to the sides, and those toys that can’t be knocked over

[bandgie]

Hurt Me

warnings! sex with chan lmao

notes! im rusty, enjoy this in my wake. im just in a 'I want chan to monopolize me and hold my life in his hands' typa mood rn. hope you understand

It feels different when you let Chan break you in. It hurts, yes, but you love the stretch. You love how he forces his cock in, inch by inch, into your tight cunt.

The lack of prep - of his spit - between your legs always makes your spin head.

It always starts with a nuzzle to your neck, a kiss to your throat, and his smile against your skin. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down with you until you've got your shorts thrown off and your underwear pulled to the side.

He'll look at you, already salivating at the thought of tasting your cunt, but you'll shake your head.

You have to be the one to line up his cock. His erection feels hot and heavy in your hand when you stroke him. Chan can't deny you, can't deny you of anything. Not even when your pretty lips part to gasp at the intrusion. Not even when the back of your throat whines from the feel of your walls wrapping around him without any warning.

Still, he's gentle, or tries to be. Chan can only handle fucking you with his tip for so long before your pussy starts to give. He'll go in deeper, holding your thighs in each of his hands to really spread you open.

Watching it disappear inside you gives him a thrill. The erotic realization that he's inside you. You're breaking for him, cunt getting wetter and wetter with every thrust. But still, there's that push back. Your cunt's too tight, not well prepped for Chan's cock, but that's never stopped either of you.

It's why he goes in with his tongue first. Coaxing an orgasm from your body before fingering your cream back into you. But this...seeing your body open for him almost painfully from his length makes his head spin.

Something always takes over him. Whether it's your whines, the sound of your cunt gushing over and over, or the tears in your eyes - there's always something that makes him tip over the edge.

He doesn't mean to fuck you past your limit. The final inches that weren't wanting to give are forced to open when Chan lifts you by the hips.

You're squealing, sharp nails reaching for his shoulders to scratch down. It's too much, he knows that, but you're squeezing him just right. Your legs are wrapping around his torso like you don't want him to stop his relentless pace, but your nails are scratching him like you can't handle it.

Choked moans and soft pleas. It's all you can babble when your pussy is finally broken just how needed it. Chan typically likes to hear the sound - a song of praise - but like this, he wants complete control.

He lifts his upper body, still holding onto your hips fast to ensure you don't try to escape him. One hand clamps over your mouth, muting your voice.

And he's tempted to plug your nose with his thumb and forefinger. You'd turn a pretty pink just like your cunt, eyes teary and wide in panic. And when he'd grant you air, he can imagine the way you'd inhale.

Music to his ears, this imagination. A scary part of him wants to see you writhe. This little game of him breaking your cunt in does something to him, wakes up a part of himself he prefers to keep dormant.

But those lust-filled eyes, your eyes, are so taunting to him. Maybe, just maybe, this game you two like to play can be something more.

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for @monstersholygrail

A/N: You can read part 1 here and part 2 here. Enjoy!

The curse (part 3)

Demon (POV) x fem!reader || desperate sex, intimate

Your words kept spinning in his brain. He could still feel them burning on his frontal cortex as you opened a new book. “Because I’m in love with a demon who’s been cursed to never leave this store. And I’m damn sure I can break the damn curse so he can come to sleep on my fucking bed.” You were in love with him. In love with a demon… You, his sweet human, were in love with him.

He couldn’t figure out how that came to be. He couldn’t figure out how he made that possible. He was a grumpy asshole who always scared you (on purpose) when you arrived and made fun of your book choices. Even if he later on ordered more romance and supernatural book because it was what you liked to read more. But he would never confess to that.

And still you were there, trying to save him… because for some reason you loved him.

Fascinating.

He couldn’t stop watching you, just staring after your gorgeous face as you worked on the books, completely focused on it. It was the third time he caught you yawning when he decided that was enough. It was okay that you wanted to read everything relating to the curse in order to destroy it, but he wasn’t about to let you overwork yourself for him.

He might be a demon, but he was a demon that felt very human things for the very pretty human trying to help him. “I have a bed here, you know?” He deadpanned, leaning against the door frame trying to look casual.

You looked up from the old volume you were reading, “What?” Your eyes were hooded in a sleepy way, and that made something he didn’t know how to name stir inside his chest. His wings flapping behind him.

“You said you wanted to break the curse so I could go sleep on your bed, but I have a bed,” he explained as if you were stupid, his fangs biting his lip to try not to smile at your annoyed face.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you complained, focus back on the book.

“I know…” He told you, approaching the table you were on very slowly. “But I want to see you on that bed. Preferably naked,” he whispered against your ear, making you let out a screech because of the surprise of having him so close.

He laughed loudly as you scowled at him. “That wasn’t funny.”

“Whatever you say,” he let out between chuckles, wiping away a tear running down his cheek. “Come on, you are tired, let’s go to bed and we can continue this tomorrow,” he tried softer this time, a hint of worry permeating his words.

“Naked?” You teased.

He tried to be good, he really tried, but you were asking about sleeping naked next to him and he was nothing but a demon. A very horny demon. “Do I need to touch you again so you remember what happens when I have you naked?”

The smirk playing on your lips was enough to make him hard as a rock, and the way you whispered: “Mmmm… Maybe I need a reminder,” turned his blood on fire.

“You do, huh?” He teased back, his wings flapping a bit on his back as he approached you, helping you stand up and pressing his hard body against your soft one.

“Yes, please…” Your plea ignited something inside of him that was long dormant.

He grabbed you by the waist, unable to control himself, and used one of his spells to teleport you to bed. You fell backwards as he fell on top of you, your mouths meeting in a frenzy of kisses. His hands tried to touch skin, roaring when he couldn’t touch you fully because you were still dressed. You were giggling as he growled at your clothes, pulling at them until his fingertips burned holes through them, pulling and pulling until they tore and you were exposed to his hungry eyes.

He touched every single part of you he could, until he felt dizzy, almost drunk with desire for you. He could smell your pleasure. He could smell how wet you were for him. And it only made his own arousal grow higher, his brain spinning as he licked and nipped at your skin.

He was desperate, he wanted to touch you but he was scared he could hurt you in any way. “Ride me, little human,” he whispered against your ear.

You moaned as he manhandled you until you were straddling his hard on, his wings trapped under him and your hands pressed against his chest. You were rocking your hips to drive your pleasure higher, and he couldn’t be more happy with it.

He lasted very little like that, your luscious body over him, driving him insane, but your movements too controlled, too slow. He needed more. So he took it. He grabbed your hips with strong hands, his claws picking at your skin as you moaned his name and threw your head back, looking magnificent. But the way your pussy twitched was what gave him the signal you craved the movement, you craved the savageness inside of him.

He pressed you down harder, pushing his hips up at the same time until you screamed. And then he did it again and again, helping you move over him as you rode his dick like a Valkyrie going into battle. He had never seen anything as beautiful as you in that moment.

Your orgasm was a loud, shouting his name at the top of your lungs as he roared his own release, his thrusts erratic as he pushed every little bit of his essence as deep inside of you as he could. The way you smelt at the peak of your passion drove him completely insane. But the way you smelt right after you came and he filled you with his come? Absolute ambrosia.

He was still breathing hard when you whispered: “I can’t forget you if I don’t leave, can I?” You were half asleep against his chest, but the idea of the curse affecting you in that way had him almost jumping out of the bed. Your body resting on top of him was the only thing stopping him from running out. “Hear me out, you were worried the curse could hurt me, but I’ve been here for hours and it hasn’t done anything, so I think it’s safe for me to stay until we figure it out.”

He tried to hold back a growl, but his voice was a low rumble when he blurted: “I won’t let you be trapped here the same way I am.”

“Lucky you aren’t the one deciding it, so suck it and go to sleep,” your tone didn’t leave space for arguments and he could do nothing but to hug you closer as you fell asleep against his side.

He really needed to face the curse, didn’t he?

Fuck.

Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

[demothers-empty-blog]

part two of your neighbour loves you :)

cw: this is the closest i’m gonna get to writing yandere!könig

Your apartment is a safe haven for König, it’s remote, nobody knows of him outside of being your boyfriend. He’s basically a nobody and it gives him the utmost relief.

No more ranks, nobody shooting at him, no one to look after except you and above all, no more insipid food. König swears he mistreats his tastebuds the most.

He hasn’t completely realized it yet, but your place has become a place of familiarity and comfort. Something that his flat does not have. His is bare, with minimum furnishings, no personal touches and a dull, grey vibe that instantly makes you feel like you have cabin fever.

Quite frankly, the decor alone makes him want to blow his brains outs. Which is why he’s almost always outside.

It’s an instant joy to him when you hit his line. König picks up the minute he sees your face on the screen.

“Come over?” He’s there in a jiffy.

It’s rather quiet this time, you’ve been off the last couple visits and it’s starting to worry him. You haven’t been distant per se, you two are like two peas in a pod but you did seem more on alert. Expecting something, maybe, bracing yourself. Constant stolen glances at the door. He wants to ask what’s wrong but he will not open his mouth unless you talk to him first.

However, the wait is tearing him from the inside. At some point, König says ‘fuck it’ and tries to ask what’s wrong.

Then it happens. Those three knocks. That’s all it took and you almost leapt off the couch.

He’s never seen you jump before.

Sure, König has scared the bejesus out of you during early mornings and late nights when his footsteps are quietest, but what’s getting to him is the look of absolute dread twisting your beautiful features.

“Who is that?” There is an unmistakable growl in his voice. He is not letting this go.

Rubbing both your temples, you let out a heavy sigh, your expression crushing. “It’s… oh, Lord, please…I was hoping he wouldn’t show up.”

König doubles down, “Taube. Who is that?”

“It’s—” Another series of knocks, another jump. You try collecting yourself, the sight of seeing you so distressed worries König into action.

Without another word, he’s up. Marching towards the door, you follow behind quick as a mouse. “König- no, no, no. My love, please. He’ll leave-”

Before your outstretched arms can reach König’s shoulders, he spins around and encircles you in his arms. He looks at you, really looks at you. You know that face, he’s asking for answers.

“My neighbour,” you begin, “I think he’s troubled. I tried being nice, I really did but I think I extended an olive branch to the wrong person… it’s why I called you today.”

A pause, “I didn’t want to be alone.”

There’s a brief nod, König kisses your cheek and mutters something in your ear.

“Go to your room, go pack a few things my love and come out after ten minutes. Can you do that for me, Taube?”

You don’t understand, you can only nod along, feeling a bit uneasy under the intensity of his gaze. But you trust König and his judgment, so you do exactly that.

Once you’re out of sight, he turns to the door. There’s another series of loud knocks, this time accompanied by a voice.

Your neighbour practically bellows out your name. Before he can knock again, the door opens.

There engulfing the frame stood König, wordless, silent and staring down at this lowlife who could only gawk at the mountain of a man before him.

“Ah- shit. Man, I didn’t know she had a boyfriend, I promise it’s not like that. Is she here? I only came by for—”

König doesn’t care for the reason of his visit, nor does he possess the time to listen to his rambles that reek of cheap whiskey and poor life decisions. He knocks your neighbour out cold. Body on autopilot, König slings the dormant man over his shoulder and stomps onto an elevator.

When questioned at the front door, he smiled and said the first thing that popped up in his head.

“Ah.. this one had too much to drink.” He adjusts his grip on the man, “I am worried, he’s a friend. I’m going to drive him to the hospital to put my mind on ease. You can never be too safe when you have idiot friends.” König forces out a laugh, hoping it’d sell.

It did. What a responsible man.

König told you ten minutes, ten minutes and he’ll be back. It’s all he needed to drive to a quick rendezvous point. He’ll be a bit late on the way back but that’s okay, he’ll apologize later.

He stuffs your neighbour in the trunk and unceremoniously drops him on the ground when he arrives.

“Dispose of him.”

It’s all his men needed to hear. They knew better not to question their leader. This man was as good as dead even before König climbed back into his car.

You have your arms crossed and a bit of a frown when he comes back later than promised.

“You said-”

“Yeah, I know what I said.” He grabs you by the face and shushes you with a rough kiss. “I’m sorry, Schatz. I’m home.” König pulls away and smoothes your hair back, “Did you pack?”

You nod. He kisses you once more.

“That’s my girl.”

Your neighbour is nowhere to be found, police tape secures the door that once housed a very troubled man with a troubled mind.

König moved you out of your place. He realizes, it’s not the damn flat, it’s you. You’re the sense of familiarity, of comfort that he longs for.

That peace, he’ll forever treasure, keep it safe, keep you close. This time, he’ll choose the neighborhood, it’ll be a good one.

For the meantime, you’ll just stay at his place. No, no, it’s fine, he insists. It’ll give you time to look for a new apartment while you settle in. Maybe a house, if you want.

It’s not like you’re leaving anytime soon, right?

[borkunlimited]

Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 9

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Angst, Predator/Prey

Chapter Summary: Do dragons dream of wandering deer?

Author's Note: There is a reason why I wrote him falling asleep at the end of Chapter 8 hehe

I realized I work well during night. Very very fun sewing (and working) because no one bothers me so sometimes I stop and write when inspiration hits. Also, they are selling White Rabbit Milk Tea Sea Salt here and its very very good drink.

Enjoy reading! As always, thank you everyone for the support and because of this fanfic, I found a friend I can yap about lots of stuff!

Tagging: @phisen @wrimaira

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

9: My Dearest, Awaiting

“What do you think?”

A brief giggle escaped your lips while you watched your reflection in front of the mirror, raising a branch with snow crocus blooms tied around it on the top of your head.

Daisy gazed at your reflections, the small chirp coming from it echoed across the small bathroom. In its feet are used bandages and medical supplies you used to clean up the wound left by your remaining antler shedding.

It shook its head, shifting through the branches with flowers tied on them laid in front of you then dragged a branch of red camellias to you, the same choice it always proposes to you every day.

“I am starting to think these are your favorite.”

It tilted its head, watching you inspect the petals and it let out a beep, pleased, when you tied the red good luck ribbon around it and then taped the branch on your head.

It is as if you never shedded your sole antler at all.

“What do you think?”

Your crow friend did a spin, letting out a caw then resting on your shoulders. It tried to perch on your ‘temporary antler’ as you called it once but it can never hold its weight so it settled on the next best spot.

“Let’s go check on him before we start the day,” you said, closing the bathroom door behind you and walking through the winding halls of your dragon’s many homes. Your steps are easy now, and sometimes you skip towards one of the many interesting things on display but careful enough to avoid spilling the tub of water with you.

A rare vinyl record.

(You ask if you can listen to it and the twins said it would be better if it is the boss who will put it on for you when he finally wakes up.)

An empty flower pot with an intricate design.

(Your crow friend scolded the twins before when they pretended to bump on it while they were showing you around.)

A snow globe.

(The little dragon doesn’t seem to mind the snow falling on its scales, asleep on top of the blanket of white powder.)

They said that your dragon is dormant.

It is a very kind term to use for someone who has been asleep ever since the beginning of early winter, for over half a month, and even the best doctors that the twins and everyone in Onychinus managed to find only shook their heads, his kind already a rarity making them difficult to study but their theories are almost the same after hearing what happened-

-His body was so exhausted that it decided to put him in a deep slumber.

Were you terrified? At first, before the doctors came in, especially when he had not woken up even when a day had already passed by.

Are you still terrified? It bothers you when you don’t see him that your father had you take a vacation, taking over the full operations of the shop after hiring temporary help.

Even then, you still find yourself sewing, to pass time while waiting.

“Good morning, Mister Dragon,” you greeted softly, opening the door to where your dragon is fast asleep, then announcing your name, “Your tailor in a holiday break is here.”

It took you five strides to reach his bedside and Daisy perched on top of the headboard, watching you set down the basin at the side table before pulling your chair quietly.

It is routine at this point, waking up, getting ready, checking if he is still fast asleep, and then doing chores before returning to his side when the sun sets.

“You must be having a wonderful dream,” you spoke softly, dabbing the warm cloth on his head, cleaning him up. Every now and then, he would stir and you noticed stray droplets bother him so you make sure to squeeze excess water from the cloth harder first, “I hope you remember them when you wake up so you can tell me.”

Of course, you never expect an answer from him but you were told speaking to him would help and from there, you and the twins explore creative ways to interact with him, hoping your words will reach your dragon soaring through the wide skies of his colorful dreams.

How many vinyl records have you put on?

You are almost through the first box but more are waiting to be played at the foot of his bed.

How many tapes of films have you watched?

Too many, sometimes you fall asleep halfway through and sometimes you don’t, pointing at the clothes of the characters you love to him.

How many times have you winded up your music box?

More than ten, every morning and evening and you wonder if he is also in the same field of red wildflowers, gazing at the blue horizon after a tiring flight.

“Are you having a long journey there?”, you continued, and you smiled when water clung on his hair and on his eyelashes, “I am sure you have many friends there. Dragons just like you.”

He never gave away his dreams, only soft breathing escaping his lips, sometimes a smile and then his slumber continues.

You always made sure to change the bandages wrapped around his shattered horn after, setting the used ones beside the small flower pot in the bedside table where you planted the antler you have shed but you haven’t quite decided yet which flower to grow beside it.

If you had enough time, you believe you would have been able to salvage those pots with your and your father’s antlers before the fire of your old shop.

Those plants would be taller by now and they would have been very lovely to look at once work day ends, towers of greens and colorful blooms thriving together with your old antlers.

Once your dragon wakes up, you will give him the choice which seed you should plant for this one.

A tradition among deer hybrids commonly reserved for close family and-

Just the thought of calling him your mate is making you blush.

“You should wake up before spring, at least,” you hummed, a lopsided smile on your face from your earlier silly thought while making sure the new bandages are secured and then fixing the good luck ribbon tied around his remaining horn, “Every creature wakes up when winter ends.”

The morning routine ends with you pressing a kiss on his forehead after brushing his hair and you make sure he is covered by his blankets and the curtains are closed before  leaving with Daisy to continue your work.

The twins and a few people from Onychinus are too kind when they give you a room where you can continue projects you have brought with you, ones where your clients are very specific that you should be the one making and not the temporary help your father hired.

You always start working on the request of the man you had always held close to your heart, his form always hidden from the shadows.

Mr. Sylus.

He has been very clear from the start that he wanted you to be the one tailoring his clothes when he requests a set from your shop and of course, you still abide by it.

Saying his name with an honorific sounds strange.

It was supposed to be a shot in the dark, a guess where your favorite visitor will just laugh off and pinch your cheek after.

“You should consider being a comedian, sweetie.”

Those are the words you were expecting to hear from him but even then, the red good luck ribbon that tied the wreath said otherwise, as if it was intentionally left there.

A clue.

A hint.

An answer already spelled out.

The man you clothed to shape the image he wants with your own hands.

(He is always the man of the hour in every party, your clients recount.)

The man who answered your notes with gifts, all wrapped in perfect bows.

(He doesn’t spare a single penny, does he?, a voice in your head whispers while you pull the ribbon to reveal the latest surprise.)

The man who sat beside you until the late afternoons, holding the spool while you gathered the yarn that Daisy accidentally toppled over.

(His lips seemed to always quirk slightly in amusement every time you called him ‘Skye’.)

The game is nearing its end and you can still recall your reflection on the mirror of your small vanity table the morning after your little adventure in the museum when you hang the crown of flowers together with all your trinkets.

Curiosity.

Surprise.

Finally, realization.

The last piece of the puzzle to complete the picture.

The events after confirmed everything. How every hybrid in Onychinus tended to him, tended to you .

A bodyguard wouldn’t get that much special treatment.

Sylus.

Two syllables. Easy to say, easy to remember. A sharp inhale for the first and a continuous release for the last, a decrescendo, a dropping beat. Sy-lus: A soft sigh ending with a hiss, reminiscent of a kiss, and of a postponed promise. Foreign to your tongue, yet rolls quickly for the rest. A name for a face, a name to be unique, a face to recollect.

To others, he had always been Sylus. 

Over his business meetings and the coat on his shoulders barely moved by the cold breeze, on the dotted line, an elusive creature that will show its face when called by its name and even then his appearance is a gamble, he will always be Sylus, distant, watchful, untouchable.

To you, he had always been Skye. 

Over his visits and his sleeves rolled up, his coat left hanging on the armchair, he is simply Skye, under the warm sodium lights of each sentries by the road that herald his come and go that reached your little paradise through the windows, your antlers grazing against his horns, he has always been Mister Dragon and you will always be his Miss Deer.

His real name ricochets through every four walls of every building you have stepped inside and even in this room where it is just you and your crow friend putting together clothes, his true name stayed, your mind repeating it, trying to overwrite the one syllable into two and every attempt, never a success, only one question stood.

Why?

“Oh, I didn’t realize-”, you blinked, the urgent beep coupled with the flapping of wings from your crow friend cut your thoughts short and you noticed that the bobbin had already been refilled.

Your gaze moved at the fabrics, already cut, waiting to be joined together and become a suit for the incoming Spring Festival that your dragon will attend but maybe, today is not the day their wish will be granted.

It's not good to use Mister Sewing Machine if your mind is wandering.

“How about we just do our wolf plushies today, Daisy?”, you suggested and you picked up the basket where your project is waiting and that’s how your day went, your crow friend plucking the polyester filling for you while you rolled it in your hands, the two wolf puppies finally taking shape.

“Do you think he will wake up soon?”, you asked the twins when you set the two wolf plushies near your sleeping dragon.

It was already evening when they have arrived back to check on you and the boss and even with your gentle smile, they always caught the scent of sadness-

-Of longing.

Slightly wilted wildflowers, waiting for the sun, for the rain, and of cotton gathering dust.

“He probably gobbled up so many bad humans that he needs to sleep to digest them,” Luke joked and that earned him a slap in the arm by his brother and a sharp peck from Daisy.

“I think we just need to give him more time,” Kieran answered, and if you ask him, the boss does stay up for days, perhaps this is also his body’s way of forcing him to rest, “He will be fine, miss.”

A warm embrace, and the two of them sit near your legs while you knit scarves for all of them until one by one, you all have closed your eyes, drifting off until only the embers of the fireplace and the sound of the vinyl player remain in the dragon’s chamber containing all of his dreams he is keeping for himself.

On Sylus’ bedside, his odd family awaits.

────────────────────

He was a very lonely dragon.

A sudden crash through the forest, ungraceful, and maybe that is because of the arrows and spears that managed to lodge themselves between his scales that he is very wary of every forest creature that tries to approach him, snapping at them, all of them cowering back in fear.

As they should, everyone does with his sharp teeth.

“Mister Dragon, that’s not a nice way to make friends,” a voice came in, gentle and polite, and his eyes immediately landed at you.

The only thought that came in his mind back then were three words.

“You are beautiful.”

A soft laughter escaped your lips, a sound he wanted to hear more, and he realized he might have blurted it out loud when he noticed the used to be frightened forest creatures giggling, whispering among themselves that this mean dragon isn’t so mean at all, making his large tail swished in annoyance, and maybe slight embarrassment.

It was an unlikely friendship.

You who almost look like a human but not really, not with antlers growing on your head, your soft deer ears and short tail, and he relished how you leaned against his body during your afternoon naps, after sewing little clothes for those forest creatures.

A cat wearing a bow tie.

A fox with a cape around its neck.

A goose with a bandana on.

These forest friends of yours frolicking about in human clothing.

“How can we make you friendly, Mister Dragon?”

It was a question you asked him once during those lazy afternoons and his snout pressed against the side of your neck, sighing softly as he took in the scent of cotton and wildflowers, before he answered.

“Are you saying I look hideous, little doe?”

Sylus does enjoy teasing you and you always misinterpret his words as you are quick to apologize, kissing his snout and he knows it is a very underhanded but effective tactic because you always grant him these little gestures.

“I think you are very good-looking.”

If you leaned closer, his body grew extra warmer on your words and he only chuckled at your compliment then you continued.

“Yet, I think a crown would be fitting for a magnificent dragon who worked hard in protecting our forest.”

“Precious metals would only weigh heavy in my head, sweetheart. It will make the knights who always mistake you for a missing princess more determined to cut my head off.”

“Oh, I have a different idea in mind.”

A flower crown worthy of his name, as you said.

Every forest creature brought the best flower across the land to your forest after you announced your plan, all of them unique, and you braid the wreath with him, day and night.

It is almost done with one flower remaining to be picked and only him can bring it back to you.

“Take care, Mister Dragon.”

“I’ll be back before the first flower blooms, little doe.”

His wings shook the trees, the flowers that spread across the grove as he pierced the skies with the air gradually getting thinner, the region becoming colder and colder but he is one to always push through all odds.

Relentless.

Determined.

Unwavering.

The flight was only half of his journey and Sylus had finally landed on the highest peaks of the harsh mountain ranges of this land. With his claws, he had scaled through the rough terrain and his sense of smell is useless for this particular flower native only to this land but his vision is certainly helpful, his eyes darting back and forth looking for the bloom his precious deer described to him before he left.

“Woolly, like a sheep,” you said, and you held up a sheep wandering close to you for him to see and the lamb let out an indignant huff before you let her go then you pointed at the twinkling night sky and the moon, “And silver, like the stars.”

The star of the glacier.

The lion’s foot.

The mountain flower, Edelweiss.

It was fragile, small, and when he was about to slowly uproot it with his large claws, he was met with blinding light and a surprise.

In place of his claws are hands.

Human hands.

The same hands he used to quickly check his face and then his body.

He is not very impressed with this prank but at least his horns and tail stayed, even when they seemed to also shrink to accommodate this new form and oddly enough one thought came to his head even if he should be certainly alarmed at the fact the journey back to your forest will be more perilous and longer.

You and him are almost the same.

With these arms, he can pull you closer.

With these legs, he can tangle them with yours every time both of you call it a day under the night sky in your endless field of red wildflowers.

With these hands, he can hold your face and brush his nose against yours.

A window of opportunity.

He can do so much with this body and with the flower he put inside a makeshift pot he had crafted from the rocks nearby he only then made his descent, his thoughts filled with you and him, dancing together, rolling on the grass together, and-

-He had to stop himself from his train of thought after a particular image came to mind, not when it drifted to the shape of your lips when you laugh, not when he remember the many times humans who passed by your forest often pressing theirs together under the cover of the tall trees when they thought they are alone.

Greed.

Sylus is all too familiar with what greed is and he knows he is one when his desire was also to do the same to you especially when he found out you do those gestures to people close to you.

Surely, you wouldn’t mind if he asks nicely, right?

He is already reciting his question, revising it many times while he follows the path down the cold mountain and the travel that should take him a week or maybe longer was cut in half, not when he is too eager to see you soon.

“Sweetie, we should do what the humans do.” 

(No, that doesn’t sound polite.)

“I am home and I brought it back, sweetheart. Can I have a reward?”

(Not that one either. He doesn’t want it to look like he does these little favors just so he can get a treat after.)

“Your kisses always land on the wrong spots, little doe.”

(That will just make you confused. Not like you can directly kiss him before when he was a dragon.)

His thoughts were cut short when he heard a sound nearby. It was faint, and he can say that he is fortunate he was able to keep his sharp senses because he can clearly recognize the sound a few distant away from the foot of the mountain he is currently standing.

He should have turned away but he chose not to, not when he heard barks, laughter and-

-Music.

You love those and since you do, he also loves it as well.

It should have been a quick look, just to see what the ruckus is all about only to be met by the most surreal sight.

If he looked closely, did the sky above him have a ceiling with a faint fracture?

Two wolf cubs, each covered with a white blanket and their pointed ears and tails poking out. Whoever made these little alterations, they kept in mind that the fabric will not drag to the ground every time these two rowdy cubs run around chasing butterflies or walk by the lake to take in the scent of freshwater and paw at unsuspecting fishes.

These two wolf cubs, running around, playfully snapping at each other’s tails, and-

-A wooden box with a spinning large disc on top and a golden horn that produces a pleasant sound yet, a voice, certainly his, points to him it is called a vinyl player.

Why does he know what it is called?

“Hey, what are you looking at?!”, one of the wolf cubs barked at him, his tail puffed upon noticing his presence.

“Mind your own business, mister! We found this first!”, the other cub exclaimed, and Sylus doesn’t need to see what is under the blanket to know they are baring their teeth at him.

Luke and Kieran.

Why did those names come to mind when he gaze at these annoying wolf cubs who accused him of stealing their loot?

Sylus doesn’t need that wooden box with a spinning disc (The same prideful voice corrects him again that it is called a vinyl player which he ignores) when you love his singing voice anyways.

“You can keep your box,” he answered and he turned around, a clear sign that is supposed to mean that his curiosity is satiated and he is done with the conversation but the two wolf cubs said otherwise.

“Hey, why do you look like that, mister?”

“That’s not how good and cool boys ask questions, Luke.”

“Right, Kieran. Hey, where did you get those horns and tails, mister?”

“That’s better,” the other wolf cub responded and Sylus doesn’t have to check that these two, who oddly wear the same names that came to his head,  is following him-

-No, stalking him.

“Did no one teach both of you manners?”, Sylus answered, and one of his eyes twitched when one of the wolf cubs tried to snap at his tail, the sharp teeth almost grazing his scales.

“Manners? What’s that?”, the more energetic of the two asked and Sylus shot that one a glare when he noticed he was midway on biting his tail again.

“Oh, I know that one, Mister,” the calmer of the two replied, and he seemed to get the hint that the odd human is not pleased with his brother’s antics so he gently shove his body against his twin chasing the tip of Sylus’ tail, “Those are set of rules good and cool boys follow.”

Why are these two very set on becoming something they don’t even exactly know how to be?

Sylus chose not to answer, his eyes forward and that should have been a clear indicator that he wanted to be on his way alone but these two wolf cubs have decided that he is more interesting over the wooden box they found earlier.

“So, mister, what brings you here?”

“Did you also come here to see the miss’ dragon?”

“We have been waiting for him down here but it looks like he is taking his sweet time up there.”

“We are planning to ask him if he can teach us to be good and cool boys!”, Kieran piped and every time they say those last words, their goal, Sylus noticed both of them seemed to vibrate in excitement just at the thought of becoming one, their tails wagging harder.

“Go find another teacher,” he said instead, making his strides longer but that didn't seem to deter the two despite their short legs who somehow managed to catch up on him.

“Hey mister this isn’t a contest. I am sure he can teach all three of us,” Luke huffed, keeping up with him.

“Yeah, no need to be so selfish,” Kieran added, who was panting as Sylus increased his walking speed.

“Teach the two of you,” Sylus corrected them both, rolling his eyes, “I don’t take students.”

He doesn’t have time for that, not when he has the entire forest to look after that needs him back as soon as possible, not when he has a lovely deer who he will devote his remaining free time to.

That made the two wolf cubs halt and they both looked at each other at this odd human with horns and tail of a dragon carrying a flower.

He was about to sigh in relief when he heard them bursted into laughter behind him.

“What’s so funny?”, Sylus asked, annoyed and his eyes narrowed at the two wolf cubs now rolling on the ground, their laughter mixed with barks.

“Just because you have horns and a tail doesn’t make you the miss’ dragon!”

“Yeah, who are you trying to fool here, weird human?”

“You aren’t her dragon. We’ve seen him!”

“Liar!”, they both said in unison.

Liar.

That word shouldn’t hurt as much but it did.

It certainly did when your face was the first that came to mind, your delicate hands with a bandage around one of your fingers, and your clothes rustling, the soft orange light bathing you in a room filled with the humming of machines and colorful fabrics.

“What brings you here today-”

Skye.

Why are you calling him by a different name?

“I am her dragon,” Sylus said, each word punctuated with his stride and he picked up one of the wolf cubs by the scruff of the neck gentle but firm, “I have never lied to anyone and never will so take that back.”

“Hey, put him down!”, the one still on the ground said, pawing at his leg and if he isn’t holding a flower, he would have lifted this one too just so they both get the point.

“T-the blanket!”, the one in the air exclaimed, horrified when the white blanket slowly slipped away, and his paws reached up to cover his snout, anything that would reveal his face.

“We take it back!”, the other twin cried together with his brother, “We take it back! We believe you!”

Scars.

Clearly inflicted by someone with something sharp.

Wounds that never healed, hidden by white blankets so both of them will still be identical.

Maybe he has been too harsh at these two wolf cubs without a pack.

“Now, Mister Dragon, don’t forget, we have small friends living here too.”

Your soft reprimand echoed in his mind when he accidentally toppled over a rabbit, breaking their leg by accident during a brief scuffle with bandits who thought they could come into your home and take you away.

Right, you wouldn’t be too happy when you see him being too harsh with these wolf cubs.

Sylus put down the sniffling wolf cub beside his twin, the two were quick to lick each other’s tears, and just so they understand that he is sorry , he tugged the blanket and made sure it covered the face the twin was so ashamed to show.

“Go home,” Sylus sighed, and he gave their ears a scratch, hesitant, trying to mimic what you do to your forest friends who end up crying over the simplest things.

“But we don’t have a home.”

“We just followed you here.”

Would you leave them here?

No, he doesn’t think so, not when you welcome every animal that finds your forest, no matter how fearsome they are, with open arms.

“I don’t want to hear you two complaining on my way back,” Sylus answered and their ears perked up, their tails wagging and suddenly, the little incident earlier is forgotten at the fact that the dragon turned odd human is letting them tag along.

“Really?!”, Luke asked, he and his twin back on their feet, “Does that mean you will teach us too?”

“No.”

“If you won’t teach us, then we will be your henchmen, boss,” Kieran piped in, matching his stride. “Learn on the job!”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Come on, boss, we’re really good at a lot of stuff! Sniffing, biting, you name it!”, Luke added and his brother joined in, listing down their other abilities (Peculiar ones too. Fixing burnt rice?)

Perhaps Sylus is wrong.

This journey is going to be more than long.

────────────────────

“This is really difficult to do.” 

Luke complained and you chuckled softly when he let you take a look at his progress, his brother hard at work beside him, focused on knitting the cuff of the sock he is working on.

“It doesn’t look promising at first but it will all come together,” you smiled, adjusting the slight gaps between his stitches before handing it back to him who eagerly examined your fix before picking where he left off.

It is getting colder, the neck scarves that the twins used to wear for you are now replaced by red woolen scarves you have knitted yourself, the fabric tied around their necks like a bow and every person who dare tell them they look silly always earn a good shower of threats from them, not when it was you who put it on to them before they leave during the mornings.

You watch over Luke and Kieran huddled together, sitting on the floor by the foot of the bed where your dragon is currently sleeping, all three of you opting to come closer to the fireplace to have a better view of your little projects.

The usual energy they brought with them becomes more tamed when they are focused, only speaking when exchanging notes over their progress or asking for your help. Maybe, winter has a special effect on hybrids like you with all of you being at your most docile self, conserving energy once spring arrives.

The red yarn you are using stretches through the entire mattress, moving by a centimeter every time you put one loop through your knitting needles and then repeat. There is still one last scarf you are working on and its owner is right beside you, still in a deep slumber.

Every now and then, the chimes you and the twins hang on his bedpost sway gently, making faint little notes and earlier, it was an orchestra with Daisy pulling all of them in rapid succession, a little mischief recently it does believing your dragon would wake up due to annoyance.

Anything, just to wake him up before spring arrives.

“Feeling sleepy, Daisy?”, you asked, noticing that your crow friend is huddling near the plushies lined up on the other side of your favorite visitor, and if it stayed still, it is almost similar to the crow plushie it is sitting next to.

It only lets out a beep and perhaps mechanical crows also need to rest when its eyes slowly close but you watch it stand up, fixing the yarn for you and you know it doesn’t want to miss out on anything especially when the twins are around.

“That’s right, fall asleep so all the kisses supposed to be yours will go to us, bird.”

“All the pats, all the hugs, hey-”

Your odd little crow was quick to retaliate, their words waking it up and it tried to peck at them, chastising them and the twins ran around, ducking across all the furniture and jumping over boxes scattered inside the room while you clap, cheering for both sides, the projects you are working on set aside.

Does your laughter reach him in his dreams?

The list of your questions grows as day turns into night, the twins making themselves comfortable at the foot of the bed, tired, all curled up and you set aside the socks they are working on in your basket of yarn.

“Perhaps we should make yours longer,” you mumbled, still awake even when the rest is already asleep, wrapping the scarf around his neck to check.

This silly, silly liar.

This silly, silly dragon.

This silly, silly hero.

Making plans with you, bringing maelstrom upon those who hurt you, and then falling into a deep slumber, here but not quite.

“You lie so gently,” you laughed softly, brushing your nose against his and your tears began to fall into his cheek that you are quick to remove, remembering stray droplets of water bothers him, your fingers grazing his cheek.

Nice and friendly dragons don’t lie yet maybe they do, if that is what it takes to be held close, to be loved and maybe it was greed, selfishness, that drove him to wear such a flimsy mask that took you time to see through.

“Wake up soon,” you said, and this time, perhaps it is longing, a sadness, that you nuzzled your nose against his hair, taking in the scent of fresh blankets and faint cinder.

“I’ll forgive all of your silly, white lies.”

Your soft sobs slowly quiet down, all of you falling asleep at any space around him and you hold the almost finished scarf close to your chest and it might be a cause for celebration but everyone has fallen asleep at this point, failing to notice the subtle sign that the dragon soaring through the skies has finally heard your voices all the way down.

Still unconscious, Sylus’ finger gently hooked itself around the thin red thread of the yarn.

On Sylus’ bedside, his odd family awaits.

────────────────────

He was a very lonely dragon.

At least, that was before and this journey isn’t so bad with two little wolf cubs following you around, making interesting observations and watching them come up with different ways to entertain themselves is something he is looking forward to telling you when he sees you again.

“I spy with my little eye,” Luke hummed, his gaze roaming up towards the sky and then added, “A sheepie!”

“But I don’t smell one right now,” Kieran answered, his snout raised up in the air to take in the scent of the forest.

Good noses.

These two have ridiculously good noses that actually impressed him.

They also make for good compasses, being in this form made Sylus realized that the terrain is much more different on the ground than up in the air and there are many times he almost made a wrong turn but the two are quick to steer him back to the right direction.

“Hey boss, that way is going to the desert.”

“The world is a bit different now that you aren’t flying, huh?”

“I’ll map everything out once I get back,” Sylus answered, giving them a brief nod and their tails wagged faster because of the acknowledgement, the game they were playing earlier now forgotten.

“Can we help?”

“We will carry your things for you!”

He doubts those small bodies can take on much weight and again, you wouldn’t be too happy when you see two wolf cubs used as horses.

If anything, he had a foresight that these two will always be at your side any chance they get.

“Come on, boss, say yes,” Kieran said and the two started to do this tactic again where they would weave between his legs.

“We’re very strong.”

“You’re still way stronger than us though.”

There they are again with this self-promotion that would have worked if they weren't unintentionally making him trip and he secured the flower pot on his arms closer to him, the woolly petals still vibrant despite the long journey, its color brighter under the sunlight passing the leaves of the tall trees scattered on the borders of your forest.

Every now and then, small creatures pass by, barely making a sound, and even the breathing of larger ones are overwhelmed by the rustle of the fallen leaves carried by the gentle breeze, the chorus of birds, all familiar except a particular faint sound.

No, collection of sounds, resounding.

If he looked closely, did the sky above him have a ceiling with a growing fracture?

“Hey boss, that’s not the right way,” Luke pointed out, noticing Sylus turning in a different direction but they followed him, curious why the dragon who is very insistent on getting to you as soon as possible is deviating from the road where you are waiting.

Sylus just had to check, every unfamiliar sound is a cause for action. A ringing, tinkling, even harmonious as it could be, means swords being sharpened from a distance.

Did those humans think they could come for you just because he isn’t around?

Only, he is met with the strangest sight.

Chimes, hanging on every branch, and they all grow in number as they venture deeper, the road leading to a cliff and at the edge, a small belfry.

Of course, the two wolf cubs did not find this odd at all when they are sounding each chime they can reach one by one and with all this ruckus, he is sure that all the forest creatures are making their way to you already to file a complaint, even if they have to take a long journey to the heart of the forest.

“Must you two ring every single one of them?”, he asked, slightly exasperated, and two wolf cubs wagged their tails, the wet snowflakes from the trees’ branches falling on his cheeks but faded away just as fast.

“Not really, but they make the nicest sound!”, Luke said, jumping over his brother’s back to pull the rope of a chime hanging on a particularly higher branch.

“You should ring the ones you can reach, boss,” Kieran suggested, and this time, he rang one of the chimes beside him, “We might get a prize!”

Then, he knew that the small belfry certainly is the most enticing among all of them because the two immediately went for it, running towards it and he had to put the flower pot aside just so he could hold both of them under his arms.

“Oh, we get it!”

“You want to ring the most important looking of them all!”

“All yours, boss!”, they said in unison.

Sylus rolled his eyes but it only took him a few strides until he was standing in front of the small belfry and while turning away is indeed an option, he knows the twins would pester him with all their might.

“I wonder what that bell would have sounded if you rang it.”

Your possible words echoed in his head if he recounts this story to you after his return and he would hate to disappoint that one of his stories doesn’t have a definite conclusion.

“Fine, let’s see if this one will get you both a prize,” he sighed and he reached out to ring the lone bell by the edge of the cliff.

If this grove of chimes is an ensemble, then this bell is certainly the conductor because the rest stop making a sound, the toll of this one resonating across the trees and further beyond the boundaries of your forest.

It continues its solo, the clapper hitting the lip in an equal interval until finally, it comes into a halt.

Then, silence.

“Where’s the prize?”, Luke asked.

“Maybe the prize is the friends we make along the way-”, Kieran replied only for his words to be cut off, the ground shaking, and Sylus stepped back further from the small belfry, closer to where he left the flower pot.

Might as well see this until the end.

A rumble, the finale of the bell’s overture, and then-

-A loud aria akin to a songbird.

The singer perched by the edge of the cliff, a giant crow carrying a red thread on its beak that it dropped to caw at them loudly, certainly annoyed at being summoned.

“Since when did Mephisto grow so large?”

The same prideful voice, certainly his, mused in his head (and thoroughly finding the strange sight hilarious) and the crow tilted its head side to side, studying him and the two wolf cubs before letting out a loud caw once again, shaking the trees and sounding all the chimes at the same time, as if telling them it is clearly busy and if they need anything, they should get on with it.

“See, I told you!”, Kieran exclaimed, wagging his tail and still under Sylus’ arm.

“I never thought I would see such a large chicken,” Luke said, awed and Sylus had to take another step back because clearly, Luke’s way of inspecting new discoveries is by snapping his teeth at them.

The crow let out a series of beeps and caws that oddly enough, Sylus managed to piece together, begrudgingly telling them if they need a ride to the home of the deer and her dragon living in this forest, then it will give them just that.

“She is clearly busy knitting a scarf for her beloved but if you want to disturb her like the rest, then go ahead.”

Yet, those words lingered in Sylus’ mind and his eyes landed on the red thread that the giant crow was carrying.

It was helping you put together the scarf you are making for him, expecting him to indeed return before spring, at least in the last days of winter.

“I am her beloved,” Sylus corrected the crow, letting the two wolf cubs hang on his shoulders while he picked up the flower pot, the mountain flower swaying gently against the cold breeze, “And I intend to fulfill my words to her.”

The giant crow just cackled, letting Sylus hold on to its feet before picking up the red thread on its beak.

“Right, odd human, try telling that in front of her dragon.”

With its large wings that almost covered the winter sun, it took flight and the two wolf cubs hanging on his shoulders huddled closer to him for warmth against the cold breeze, howling in excitement.

This journey is finally nearing its end.

────────────────────

“Sylus.”

How many times have you repeated his name in front of the bathroom mirror of this home only to end up blushing?

Addressing him without the honorific sounds impolite despite you and him spending so much time together.

You mostly do these little ‘practices’ as you called it by the balcony, not by his bed because it would be embarrassing for your favorite visitor to wake up and see you using the deer puppet to talk to the dragon puppet acting as his stand-in.

There were already hints, breadcrumbs left behind just for you.

Expensive watches with various designs.

Leather shoes crafted by artisans.

Vehicles with sleek exterior imported from other countries.

Every visit, they change, all of them unique but you always pass them off, convinced that Mr. Sylus is an extremely generous employer and an understanding one too because there are many times that your favorite visitor stayed longer than he should inside your studio.

“You’re a funny man, Mr. Sylus,” you sighed, gazing at the dragon puppet sitting on a chair across from you then you shook your head, correcting yourself, “I mean, Sylus.”

The two syllables tumbled out of your mouth haphazardly, not when a lopsided smile is forming in your face every time you say his real name.

His intentions had always been pure, his actions are clear and you can never harbor anger towards the man who started this charade.

Mr. Sylus’ life has been foreign to you but you are aware he is a very powerful man and he could have everything in the world and more, his tower of treasures reaching the heavens yet your simple question of ‘why’ is much complex.

Why choose an ordinary seamstress? 

(You only know how to sew clothes. The fabric scissors are a tool to cut through clothes, not enemies. The needle to repair tears, not inflict pain.)

Why did he lie? 

(Afraid. Perhaps predator hybrids are all too familiar with all kinds of fear, the fear of rejection always so common, and he, the strongest of them all, is most likely expecting you to flee if you know his real name.)

Why is he afraid? 

(He has always been brave in your eyes but his request, no, a plea, for you to close your eyes on that fateful day says differently.)

“Miss Deer, we’re back!”

Luke’s voice carried all the way to the balcony from the entrance hall and you stood up, brushing your apron and then pointing your puppet at the dragon puppet.

“Let’s talk more later,” you said and then you added, the syllables as always, a little lopsided, “Sylus.”

You picked up the dragon puppet, removing yours and walking towards the living room to find the twins setting down all the shopping they have brought with him the usual stack of papers pending your dragon’s signature, the pile growing larger as each day passes by in his deep slumber.

“Your husband is still asleep?” Louis greeted you and you immediately grew red, covering your face with the two puppets and looking away.

Aside from the twins, a few select members of Onychinus, the doctors, Louis, and the older lion hybrid are the only people allowed to come by and visit this place, dropping off important items, often for him, but sometimes for you.

“Now, Louis, Mr. Sylus wouldn’t be too happy if you are the one making the miss blush and not him,” the older lion hybrid chided the young male deer hybrid who only rolled his eyes, and your eyes darted at the familiar package he left at the counter.

That package is certainly from your favorite bakery and you are also sure your father had them sent it to you on his behalf.

“What do you think the two of them are doing when alone in her studio?”, Louis pointed out while you slowly inch closer to check the contents of the box, recognizing the scent of strawberries, not minding his remarks.

“Hey, our boss is nothing but a gentleman!”, Luke exclaimed.

“They talk, that's what they do!”, Kieran added and Daisy also beeped in agreement.

“Right and oddly enough they both carry each other’s scents,” Louis replied and then you only halt your step when he turns his attention to you.

Maybe you should retract your newest impression of him because you are finding him quite rude.

The male deer hybrid had been counting days, of course, and while N109 zone is still in the same state (A state of chaos that’s its default by now) several of the prey hybrids expressed concerns to him that Sylus laying dormant means a temporary power vacuum and while everyone is still cowering on the dark, he is sure they will step out one by one and fight over his empire.

That dragon really had to wake up soon because all of his allies can only handle so much.

“You,” Louis said, looking at you as if you hold the key to this current dilemma.

“Me?”, you asked, tilting your head.

“Yes, you,” Louis started, frowning,  “Who else? Anyways, have you exhausted all of the possible options of waking your husband up?”

Why does he keep referring to your favorite visitor as your husband? You can’t even call him by his real name yet.

“I-”, you opened your mouth but the twins were quick to intervene.

“She talks to him day and night if that’s what satisfies you.”

“She’s taking care of him and even the doctors said to wait it out.”

“Louis, you are putting unnecessary pressure over the miss here,” the older lion hybrid added, standing at your side but the male deer hybrid shook his head, in thought.

Talk. These two are claiming you talk to Sylus but he believes that the dragon hybrid might need a more potent medicine than that.

“I also sing to him,” you said softly, looking down on your feet and your ears drooping slightly.

Perhaps there are other options you haven't tried but your favorite visitor’s room is overflowing with trinkets at this point with the number of ideas you and the twins are coming up with.

“Hear that?”, the lion hybrid chuckled when he saw Louis sighed in frustration while the twins comforted you, telling you to not mind the grumpy deer, “Everyone is doing their best. The next step lies with Sylus.”

These people throw around his real name so easily it is making you slightly envious and your eyes lingered at the package with a handwritten note clearly from your father.

Once your favorite visitor wakes up, you and him should have tea and cake just like you always do.

“If all options fail, perhaps you should take a page of how fairy tales are written,” Louis grumbled, setting the rest of the boxes with your name in it on top of the counter, clearly gifts from your neighbors.

“Fairy tales?”

“I think the boss misses your voice. It is time for his evening music anyways,” Kieran is quick to cut, shooting a glare towards the male deer hybrid before he and his brother guided you gently towards the room where your dragon is sleeping.

Your eyes lingered at the pastry box but followed them anyway and you hope they don’t forget to put it in the refrigerator later or else the icing might not be as good if left out overnight.

“Don’t mind him,” Kieran said when you stepped inside the room, always very diligent as he already pulled the usual chair for you to sit, “You shouldn’t be forced to take unnecessary measures.”

“We can still handle it even without the boss,” Luke added.

They don’t need to tell you but you count the number of tears their clothes have every time they return here, steadily increasing, how their sleeps are deeper, how they stayed longer than usual inside the bathroom fixing their wounds, and you know that the N109 zone will need more than two wolf boys to keep everything at bay.

“You’re nice boys,” you smiled, your hands reaching up to pat their heads. “Both of you have always been.”

Their tails wagged in delight, stooping slightly so you wouldn’t strain yourself.

Your approval is more than enough for them to keep going.

“You think so?”

“I think so.”

You scratched their pointed ears and they hugged you tight around your waist, their tails wagging faster and your eyes wandered to your sleeping dragon.

His eyes still closed, yet every now and then it flutters.

His remaining horn, pointed as ever, and you look forward where you and his grows back.

His forehead, his cheeks, places where you have gifted him many kisses hoping he will receive it in his field of dreams.

And then, his lips,-

-You have finally understood Louis’ suggestion.

Naive as you can be, you know there are kisses that shouldn’t be granted without the other person’s permission.

In Sylus’ bedside, his odd family awaits.

────────────────────

He was a very lonely dragon.

Hitching a ride with a giant crow certainly cut his journey short and in the distance, he caught a glimpse of the clearing, the endless field of red wildflowers now covered with a thin layer of snow.

An oasis, a paradise and ahead is his precious deer, always so patient.

Dealing with the two wolf cubs was bearable but a bird who constantly pokes fun of his identity? If they weren’t so high up and if it wasn’t helping you knit, he will certainly show this bird he is indeed your dragon who went on a journey.

All Sylus wants to do now is to hand you the mountain flower, take a long rest with you in his arms, and-

-Right, the question .

These three have been bothering him that he hasn’t even been able to reword his request, aware that he can’t hold your face and press his lips against yours.

He is a fiend but he is better than that.

“You live here, boss?”

“There are so many new things I don’t know which one to sniff first!”

The moment they landed, the two wolf cubs already had their snouts pressed against the ground, taking in the new scents and it is not difficult to miss them even when they are wearing white blankets because of their dark tails poking above the snow.

The giant crow cawed at him for one last time, snobbish before it wagged its tail feathers in a flourish, before picking up the red thread it was carrying, looking for you.

Even with the different surroundings, Sylus knows where to look for you and with the mountain flower but perhaps the long red thread of the scarf you are knitting for him helped.

That scarf could have been a blanket now considering he isn’t technically a dragon anymore.

Snowflakes clung on his hair, his lashes and those that fall into his cheeks melt quickly and it is home.

Home is where the red wildflowers grow.

Home is where you and him stand in the field of flowers, listening to the voices of this land.

Home is where your soul is.

There you are, huddled against your forest friends, bears, deer, foxes, and even that giant crow managed to beat him on finding you first, your arms already wrapped around it.

Your deer ears flick the falling snow, and your breathing was easy.

The sacred deer of the forest, waiting, always waiting, for her dearest to return from a far-off land.

He is home.

His hand, his human hand, reached out to brush the small braid you always wear by the side of your face and you stirred, leaning against the warmth of his palm.

Then, he leaned down, brushing his nose against yours before pulling back, gazing at you fondly as you slowly opened your eyes.

There was a moment of silence, your eyes studying his face and you smiled.

“Now, why are you going around with a new face without telling me?”

“You are the one person who is yet to call me your false dragon, little doe.”

His eyes lingered on the shape of your lips when you laugh, soft and careful not to awaken your friends as he helped you stand up, on your hands is a scarf certainly for him.

“You came home just as you promised.”

Of course he did, and he reached out to hold your hand while you walked through your grove. From a distance, he can hear the two wolf cubs running around, barking happily.

Contented.

Secured.

Safe.

He has always been at peace here and yet-

-The sky above him has a ceiling and slowly, the fissure grows larger.

Was the horizon always like that?

Yet, you were so calm as you examined the mountain flower he had given to you, your delicate hands brushing against the petals.

“Darling.”

He called out softly, and his eyes did not move from you when you tuck the bloom, the prize he had brought all the way from the mountains, behind his ear.

“Yes?”

It was your voice, he is certain and yet when you wrap the thick scarf that pooled on his feet around his neck, your hands lack the certain familiarity when you guide his hand when cutting the fabric.

No words formed, not when he is slowly coming into terms that this is but a distant dream, one of the many, longer than usual and he had overstayed.

All the fragments, his wishes, his desires, his emotions, always converge in one place and in his mind, they always take form of-

You.

“I always have to remind you many times that I am not her.”

You held both of his hands, laughing softly and even with the realization, hearing such a sound always brings a smile on his lips.

“You can’t blame me for that, sweetie, you always make the wait difficult sometimes.”

“You have told me several times.”

“Even then, I can never be angry at you. Not when I am too selfish to end the game.”

“You have always been scared that I would look at you differently if you do.”

A pause.

A hope.

A longing for reassurance.

“Would you?”

“You simply need to hear my answer.”

He was never the guardian of this forest.

Yet this dream, this dream is the most pleasant he has that it convinced him so well, so well of the role he never took and then, perhaps it was the long journey that when you lead him back to the rest of your forest friends, still asleep, he knew he only had a few moments to say goodbye.

The wolf cubs, tired from playing, finally have friends.

The giant crow, content, rests its body beside you.

The dreaming dragon, on your lap, is now ready to return to his true home.

For the finale of his dream, a pleasant awakening awaits.

────────────────────

Was it that Sylus always longs for?

You have never been in his bed, you have never stepped foot on any of his many houses, yet the scent of cotton and wildflowers had always followed him, subtle, gentle, comforting.

When he opened his eyes, everything almost overwhelmed him.

The colors, the sounds, and the scents, all blending together that he had to close his eyes to steady his breath and his heart racing too fast, not when your scent had taken reign among the rest.

“Sy-”

He froze.

“Sy-”

It was a second attempt, trembling but he will always recognize the gentle pitch belonging only to one very special person.

“Sy. Lus.”

A third attempt and he turned around to the source of voice who is once again, trying to pronounce his name, to be more continuous this time.

There you are, sitting by his bedside, clearly aware now that he is awake and you are holding on your apron too hard.

The red dusting your cheeks has always been a wonderful color on you.

His precious deer, too sweet, always trying her best, and his sunrise, the light above your head like a halo.

“There’s my darling.”

Perhaps he had held on your arm too hard, only wanting to look at you closely and maybe brush his nose against yours, just to check if this is the waking world but you stumbled towards him, your chair falling against the floor and were you always this light? Yes, you have always been and only the sense of parting with you, even for just a few hours, have made everything too heavy, too hard to let go.

Here you are, finally taking the place he had reserved just for you.

You were quick to lift the hem of your apron near your face, not when he is too close, hovering above you and the first thing you have thought about is you certainly have not practiced for this outcome with the puppet.

Yes, Sylus is certain this is real and even with his mind still hazy, he knows he still owes you an appointment.

“You sounded almost confident there, sweetie,” he laughed, his voice slightly hoarse, and he rested his forehead against yours, “Let’s try again.”

“Sy-”

You paused, looking at the chimes above his head and lowering your apron.

Your lips have never been this inviting.

“Come on.”

He gently coaxed, his tail flicking in excitement and his smile grew.

“Sylus.”

You said softly and you gasped when he pulled you close, hugging you tight and perhaps his laugh was so infectious that you can’t help but do the same, both of you rolling against the white blankets.

There are many things you want to say, questions you want to ask but with him wide awake, all you want to do is also make sure he is here, talking, laughing.

“Mister Dragon?”

He didn’t say anything, playfully smiling at you as he took your wrist, taking in that familiar scent and the warm touch, making sure this isn’t one of his too pleasant dreams.

“Sylus?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Will it be too much to ask if you keep your eyes open for a bit longer today?”

“Was I asleep for that long?”, he asked but he doesn’t need a confirmation, not when the clock by the bed already answered it for him.

Midnight.

Here you are, still clinging to the waking world, not wanting to miss a moment if he wakes up.

It was a weak nod but Sylus knew you have been waiting patiently, and the many trinkets scattered in the room finally explained the odd elements of his long dream.

“I’ll keep them open for you, little doe.”

“Thank you. I would like that very much.”

“Are there any requests my precious deer wants to ask from me?”

Your deer ears perked up upon realizing you might be imposing on him especially he just woke up but maybe, there is nothing wrong being selfish for once, just for a little favor.

“Will you keep them open even if I fall asleep?”, you asked slowly, trying to keep your eyes wide open, “I am afraid you might take a long nap again.”

“You’re so silly, sweetheart. I had a long rest. I’ll be awake before you”

“But why?”

“Well, I can’t have a guest in my home starving when she wakes up,” he answered, pulling the thick blanket above your heads, “She might not come back anymore to an inhospitable dragon.”

“Oh-”

How could you forget? He was asleep for so long that you haven’t thought that he might be hungry right now.

His eyes widened, watching you slowly unbutton your blouse.

“Now-”, he chuckled, strained when he held your wrist gently to stop you and his gaze may have lingered at the slope of your exposed neck and then at the strap of your bra barely covered by fabric of your blouse, “You don’t need to offer yourself up to me, sweetie. I feel just fine.”

He carefully buttoned your blouse again, taking one last look at the fading mark he had left on that fateful night.

Even with your clothes slightly crumpled, you were true to your word and he has a suspicion you dress up nicely everyday, waiting at his side.

“Are you sure?”

“I have never been sure.”

You hummed in thought and he pressed a kiss on top of your head, chuckling softly.

“You can rest easy now, sweetie.”

“Then you will still be here?”

“I couldn’t fall asleep now, not when you are here beside me, little doe.”

The soft exchange, the little reassurances that he won’t be taking a long nap anytime soon, and all it took was a pinky promise sealed with a kiss when your eyes drooped slowly, tired from your vigil.

His thumb brushes against your bottom lip but that is the closest he can have for now.

When you wake up, it might be his turn to be a little selfish in the morning.

Afterall, would it be too much to ask you to repeat his name a couple more times?

.

.

.

In Sylus' bedside, his family waits no more.

────────────────────

Author's Note: I honestly wanted to write a dream sequence ever since with a mix of surreal undertones (You know how trippy dreams can be.) and I wanted those parts to also be a reflection of Sylus' perspective of this odd game of charade he started between our Miss Deer and him. Did lots of foreshadowing prior to this and here we are!

I am now off playing BG3!

As always, see you in the next update!

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Santa

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You get an unexpected gift from your boss.

Character: Pete Brenner

Day Fourteen of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - "um, I don't think this gift is meant for me" 

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“You got this for me?” Pete asks as he pushes his hair back. He seems surprised by the simple present. It’s not much. All you could spare from your budget.  

Working at a startup doesn’t offer much more than what pays the bills, sometimes less, and with the holiday season, funds are even sparser. You shrug and clasp your hands behind your back. You were nervous enough to give it to him. Pete can be nice, but he can also be an utter nightmare. 

“Sure, uh, it’s nothing big,” you assure him. 

He takes the small gift bag and looks inside. He rustles the tissue paper with his fingers and leans back as he tugs the stuffing free. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, his forearms tensing as he pokes inside. He pulls out monogram cufflinks. They weren’t very expensive but the Etsy seller handmade them. 

“Wow, these are... nice,” he says. 

“I wasn’t sure... you might need them soon, right?” 

“Sure will,” his eyes sparkle at the golden cufflinks. “We’re gonna hit soon, sweetheart.” 

He drops them back in the bag and sets it down. You lean back on your heel. He doesn’t call you ‘sweetheart’, no, only the women he tries to sell too. He’s snagged a few to keep the startup going but he’s chased just as many away. 

“Just remembered, I got a thing,” he checks his watch. 

“Oh?” You shy away as he unrolls his sleeves and buttons them. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back before closing time,” he assures you. 

And when’s that? Each day ends later and later. 

“Okay,” you utter. 

“Hold my calls,” he shrugs into his jacket and shoves his phone in his pocket. 

“Yes, sir,” you turn and retreat out of his office. 

You sidle behind your desk and sit. There’s not many calls you need to field as it is. You don’t know if he’s optimistic, deluded, or something more concerning. His ‘vision’ seems more and more like a shell. Or as your friend Evie called it, ‘a front’. 

“Good girl,” he praises with a wink as he follows you out.  

He snatches his coat off the rack by the door and stomps out without another word. You’re relieved at the solace. You like those times when you can just piddle around. Trying to look busy when there’s nothing to do is surprisingly hard work. 

You lean your head in your hand as you scroll through your phone. Your family chat is blowing up and you continue to flick away the notifications. You’ve given up trying to mediate the ongoing argument about the Secret Santa. It never works out. 

You glance up now and again at the computer. There’s a few emails, most phishing, and the phone remains dormant. You feel more and more like a placeholder; or a dupe. You blame Evie for making you so paranoid. 

The windows dim with the evening hue and you swivel in your chair impatiently. You twiddle your fingers and stare at the minutes ticking by in the corner of the monitor. You lurch back as the door opens in a bluster and Pete stomps in with a paper crinkle. 

You look over at him, taking a moment to flip back into social mode. 

“Oh, hey, everything okay?” You ask. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he turns his back to you and sets something by his feet before he strips out of his coat. He hangs it over yours and bends to pick up the item you can’t see. “You know, I couldn’t just... you went to all that trouble.” He spins and struts towards you, lifting the white paper bag with a wiggle, “Merry Christmas.” 

“Oh, uh, Mr. Brenner, you didn’t-- I didn’t expect you to--” 

“Yeah, well, I’m a bit of an idiot sometimes.” He holds the bag out over your desk. “Kinda a jackass too.” 

“Right, um, really it’s--” he drops the bag on the desk and you swallow. “Thanks, uh, that’s so... sweet.” 

You stand slowly and reluctantly take the bag. You feel awkward and a bit guilty. You didn’t give him a gift to get one. You just did it because it felt expected. 

“Go on,” he stays where his is, one hip jutted out as he grips it, “I think you’ll like it.” 

You sniff and push the top of the bag open with your fingers. There’s a box inside. You reach through and lift out the white cardboard adorned with a pink ribbon. You set it down and carefully untie the bow, intensely aware of his gaze. 

You pull the lid off and reveal the neatly folded tissue paper. You pause and glance up at Pete. He smirks as he watches you. Something about his expression makes you nervous. 

You push apart the tissue and reveal the bright red sheer fabric trimmed in white fur. Your lashes flutter and you squeak. You giggle and look up at Pete as you try to line up lid with the box and cover the lingerie. 

“Uh, sir, I don't think this gift is meant for me. It must be for your wife--” 

“It’s for you,” he insists. “Wife’s gone. Ex, soon enough.” 

“Oh, I didn’t-- I’m sorry, sir. That’s awful.” 

“Yeah, pretty down about it,” his lip thin and he reaches to brush the stubble around his chin. “So why don’t you help cheer me up.” 

He winks again and it crawls over you like a shiver. He can’t be serious. You laugh again but his intent gaze doesn’t falter. 

“Sir, I can’t-- that’s...” you can barely think or breathe. He can’t be serious. 

“Come on, let’s have some holiday fun,” he purrs and leans forward to put his hands on your desk. 

“Uh, oh, that’s... sorry, sir, but I’m not... I’m sorry to hear about your wife but I can’t... do that.” 

“You can’t?” He tilts his head and pokes his tongue into his cheek. “You know, I can’t return that.” 

“Um, I’m sorry,” you try to slide the box across the desk and he catches it, his large hands covering yours. 

“Just put it on for me, please,” he squeezes, “I just wanna look. I’ve been so lonely.” 

“No, sir, that’s not--” your heart pounds behind your ears. You can’t believe this is happening. “That’s not appropriate. I... I gotta get going--” 

He doesn’t let you go. Even as you try to tug away. His grip is unbreakable. You whimper and stare up at him helplessly. 

“I know you got no one to go home to, sweetheart,” his voice deepens, “but I’ll give you a choice, huh? You can go put that on or you can get naked. Up to you.” 

“Sir,” you try to yank free again. “Stop--” 

He hooks his hands around your wrists and wrenches you down. Your stomach crushes the box beneath it as he releases one of your arms and grabs the back of your neck. He holds you, bent over the desk, as your toes slide on the floor. 

He steps closer as he balls your hair in his hand and forces your head up. He pushes your face into his pants, wiggling his hips as he rubs his rigid bulge against you. You whimper and grab at his grasp helplessly. 

“I got another gift for you right here,” he growls. “So be a good girl and I’ll let you unwrap it.” He twitches and groans as the roots of your hair burn. “What’s it going to be, hm? You gonna sit on Santa’s lap or is he gonna have to bend you over his knee?” 

You sniffle and press against his stomach, “please sir, I’ll be—Ow! I'll do it,” you murmur, “please, you’re hurting me.” 

“That’s it, you better be nice, baby,” he lets you go and stretches his hand across the front of his pants. “You don’t wanna get on my naughty list.” 

You recoil and slide back onto your feet. You rub your head as your scalp ripples hotly. He bites his lips as he eyes you up and down. 

“Go on, get yourself all wrapped up for Santa,” he grits. 

You flinch and stare at him, begging with your eyes. Your eyes flit to the door and back to him. You have no choice. You shakily take the box and turn away. 

He shifts as you come around the desk and as you pass him, he taps your ass. You trip but keep going. You scurry into the tiny bathroom on the other side of the office and hide behind the door. 

You toss the box onto the small counter and stare at your frightened reflection. You can’t believe this. Why?  

You sway on your legs and wring your hand. What do you do? 

“Sweetheart, don’t keep Santa waiting,” he taunts from outside. You can hear the friction of his hand on the door. 

You squeak and grip your head as your panic swells. No, no, no. You cringe and brace yourself. You’re going to do this. Because you’re weak. Because you’re scared. 

You undress, piece by piece. You open the box again and clumsily unfold the body suit. You shimmy into the sheer fabric and hook the straps over your shoulders. You step back to see yourself in the mirror. You can’t! 

You spin away with the vision of your reflection seared into your head. The fabric is so sheer, you can see your nipples, and even the slit of your cunt. You hug yourself as your eyes wet with horrified tears. 

“Come out and play, baby girl,” Pete wiggles the handle from the other side. 

“Please,” you plead through the door. “I can’t--” 

The handle jerks up then down, “get the fuck out here!”  

His voice cuts through and makes you wince. Your lip trembles as you reach to flip the lock up. Your body moves from fear. He pushes the door open and you step back. 

“Mm, baby, come out here,” he reaches for you and tugs your wrist away from your chest. He takes both your hands and unbends your arms as he draws you out into the flourescent lights. “Damn, who knew you were hiding all that? Keeping that all to yourself.” 

“Please, I... I’m scared.” 

“I know, baby, that’s why I’m so hard,” he snickers and yanks on so you fall against him. He snakes his arm around you and cups your ass in his hand. “Why didn’t you give me this for Christmas, huh?” 

“Sir...” 

“Mmm,” he leans in and inhales your scent as his nose tickles your temples. “Don’t worry, Santa’s gonna give you everything,” he grinds his pelvis into you, “a nice fucking yule log to fill you up.” 

[ode2rin]

all my love

pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader

genre. fluff, slightly suggestive (towards the end) | established relationship | new boyfriend!rin 

content/warnings. 1.8k+ wc | characters are in their 20s ! | pro-athlete!rin | making out | narration heavy! | profanity | pet names | me and my word vomit | minimal proofread

in which: new boyfriend rin struggles to keep his affection within the delicate bounds of too much and too soon.

“he’s beefing with a phone now?”

“he’s beefing with anyone - anything, it’s actually a bit concerning at this point.”

“guys, stop. he can hear us, you know.”

itoshi rin sure does hear bachira, chigiri, and isagi talk shit about how he’s holding his phone tightly while glaring at the little screen. for once, rin paid them no mind and simply rolled his eyes. seemingly more focused on what is happening in his phone, or rather, what he is waiting to happen in his phone.

it’s stupid, he knows. he actually feels like he’s 18 again, back when he was pining on you so hard that he waited a whole day before you asked him to hang out. now at 23, after what felt like a whole century (he’s being dramatic) of wishing you were his, the day finally came. 

and once again, he’s here sitting, impatiently waiting for your updates about your silly grocery shopping you told him about just an hour ago. he wanted to tell you to wait, and that he’d come with you after practice. but before he could even send the message, he caught himself showing what he would call, for a lack of better term, lukewarm ‘feelings’ (it’s clinginess, he just doesn’t want to say the word himself, it’s distasteful in his own tongue).

he’s not clingy. he’s not needy. he doesn’t need to see you all the time. he doesn’t need to hear your voice or even receive a foolish text message from you. it’s not like he’s going mad about it this instant if you don’t update him. 

that's beneath him — or at least he firmly believes so before refreshing his notifications for the nth time for your long overdue text.

he could just text you first, right? to tell you how he hopes ego gets an urgent call from whoever, allowing them to leave practice earlier. tell you how desperately he wishes the earth would spin faster until he sees you again. and most importantly, tell you that he misses you, and he wants to see you despite staying over just a day ago for your weekly date.

after all, you're together now. he could simply just text you and let you know. what's the worst that could happen?

well, you might think he's being too much (he reached that conclusion on his own), and it might throw you off a bit — which is probably the last thing rin would want to happen. 

it’s too much, and too soon. no matter how long he had known it would be you for him, it doesn’t change the fact that the two of you are new to this. 

it has been nearly three months since you made it official for him, yet he’s still uncertain whether the length of your relationship could gravitate the spontaneity of him showing up to your place unannounced, or if he could ask you to stay the night after your weekly date, heck he doesn’t even know if could say those three damn words whenever he feels like it.

rin fears of overwhelming you. he can try and deny, but rin harbors big feelings that for as long as he could remember, stayed dormant for his own good. but now that you’re here, he’s afraid of putting it all out there for you.

rin thinks, or at least how he treats it, that your relationship is a new form of delicate. something he would need to handle with care, something he needs to approach slowly, even when all he wants is to give you all that he is— the good and even the bad that he would make better, just for you.

this is new and delicate. you are delicate. 

and rin knows his hands have never been known for their ability to handle something so precious.

sighing in defeat, rin threw his phone inside his gym bag, but as he was about to leave the locker room, he heard the faint buzz coming from his phone.

it was faint, barely detectable to some. but for someone who had been waiting for it for a whole damn hour, it felt like an angel whispered in rin's ear, letting him know that someone from above took pity on him.

“damn, that was fast. did you guys see that?”

bachira wasn’t lying. rin did turn to pick up his phone from his bag as quickly as one would turn when someone yelled ‘fire’. and for it, bachira received his second (it’s 2 pm, two is still a merciful number) glare of the day for pointing out his patheticness.

hastily, rin opened your conversation to be greeted by a photo of two different brands of protein powder followed by a harmless question from you, yet it almost burned him.

it’s your break, right? just wanted to ask you which would you prefer. i’m getting one of each for you to try if you can’t reply right away :D

fuck what he thought, he needs to see you – and he will. 

rin almost clicked the call button just to tell you he loves you. all because of some protein powder. just because you're so thoughtful and kind to him, it's downright unbelievable. he needs to hear your voice so he can process how real it is that you are his.

rin glanced at the clock of his phone. four more hours ‘til he’s free. four more dreadful hours, he can make do.

just before he got called by his team, rin quickly typed a reply to you.

Right one. Thank you :)

on the other end of the texting, you almost dropped both brands from your hands into your cart as you stared at rin's reply, particularly to the emoji he sent.

is this my boyfriend? you thought with a bemused grin. shaking your head, you placed his choice in your cart. you'd tease him about it when you saw him this saturday.

little did you know, even before saturday arrived, rin would be standing in front of you, hours after your last conversation. he was dressed in his sweats, wearing a white shirt, and had his gym bag slung across his chest. his hair seemed still damp from the shower, and as he looked at you, it was as though he just realized he had come here on his own.

“rin? what are you doing here?” you ask, breaking the silence first.

it was only after your question that rin realized he had more pressing matters to face than letting his eyes wander around you in your pajamas.

“i…” fuck. this is torture, and he curses himself for not finding the right words, “i wanted to see you.”

“you want to see me,” you echoed.

“is that fine?” rin’s voice came out strained with uncertainty.

a soft smile crossed your face, and you nodded. “of course…” you answered, “do you want to come in?”

rin nodded and slowly walked towards the entrance of your home, letting himself in as he dropped his bag on the floor. he still hadn't met your eye, reluctant to face what he might see in them.

instead, he indulged in the way you looked, seemingly so soft and warm to the touch in your flowing pajamas. his hands ached and itched with the urge to hold you close against him.

but he can’t – it was too much, too soon. 

“you can come here anytime you want,” you said, pulling rin out of his thoughts.

taken aback, rin took a few seconds to process what you said. “it’s not… too much?”

curious as to why he would ask that, you gave him a bashful smile. “it’s you, baby. why would it be?” 

and just like that, rin cast aside all of his hesitancy at the sound of your words, as if they were the green light signifying him to let go of the brakes holding his own affection.

rin took a step closer to you until you were inches away from him. your curious eyes followed every movement he made. curiosity immediately turned to bewilderment when you felt one of rin's firm hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. his other hand settled in the curve of your neck below your jaw, gently guiding your face to meet his.

“how about when i hold you like this? still not too much?” rin's voice sounded hoarse, an octave lower. his hands roamed around your back, gently caressing your clothed skin.

“no…” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

rin exhaled with your response, the scent of fresh mint wafting around your face. his hand on your neck climbed up until you felt his thumb caressing the side of your lip.

“and if i tell you i love you— perhaps a little too much. how 'bout that? does that bother you?” 

so, this is what it is about.

feeling bolder than you were minutes ago, you caught rin's hand, enclosing it with your smaller ones as you guided it to your lips, leaving a featherlight kiss on his knuckles.

smiling up to him, you say, “never. i think i’ll love that.”

as the moment lingered in suspended anticipation, rin wasn’t able to suppress it any longer. he closed the distance between your lips with an urgency that bordered on desperation. the kiss was more than a mere meeting of lips; it was a collision of hearts.

his lips molded against yours, and his touch was not just gentle, but also fervent, as if trying to give you all that he is, without any reservation. his hands, once hesitant, now found their place on your waist, pulling you even closer to him, feeling the warmth of your body against his. his fingers traced a delicate path along your spine, memorizing every curve, every contour, as if etching your presence in his memory. 

as the kiss deepened, a soft sigh of contentment escaped your lips, inviting rin to explore further. he took the invitation, his tongue gently parting your lips to taste you more, more, and more.  because just when he thought it was too much, it was apparently not enough. he needed more – touch you more. 

when you both finally pulled apart, your breaths were intertwined, and your gazes locked. with a shy smile playing on your lips, still breathless and flushed, you ask, “and if i ask you to stay the night, is that too much?”

rin smiled, teal-eyes reflecting a glassy glint, “no,” he whispered, “i think i’ll love that, too.”

and rin also thinks he wouldn't mind being clingy and admitting he's needy if it's you— only when it's you.

because with you, he's not reminded that he was less, nor plagued that he might be too much.

to you, all of him was just the right amount of love.

note. i don’t know what this is but i miss him so i hope it’s something. if you’re new here, i am crazy about itoshi rin.

another note. new!bf rin here !

[onyourowndaisymae]

when mammon falls in love

content + warnings: mammon x gn!reader, fluffy, just mammon getting rescued from hanging in the stairwell and realizing he's smitten // [masterlist]

word count: ~1.5k

mammon really fucked up this time. most times, he fucks up pretty bad. his greedy fingers snatch and take without discretion and his brain allows it, entranced by the allure of his favorite reward: grimm. he should know better by now than to let his greed get the best of him within the demon lord's castle, but it's just so tempting--

he tried to wander off with priceless treasure. barbatos caught him. lucifer was punishing him. tale as old as time.

hours had passed. his body hung from the ceiling of the stairwell, each miniscule movement making him sway slightly in the air. all the blood had long since gathered in his head, making his brain soggy and useless. his thoughts blurred together into a pile of mush. he wasn't having fun. his head hurt. his arms were tired. lucifer is a bastard. he misses you. if he could muster up the brainpower to count, he'd start counting the stairs on each flight to cure the boredom that came with hours of hanging still. he'd given up on calling for help long ago-- that only seemed to piss lucifer off more, and sometimes encouraged a brother or two that was really fed up with his antics to come spin him and laugh.

the house of lamentation grew bitingly cold at night. his jacket kept him warm enough, but the way his shirt rode up left him shivering in the overwhelming darkness. he could hear the drip of the kitchen's leaky faucet, and... what was that?

shuffling. slow and quiet, like someone who didn't want to be seen. the faintest of lights reached his eyes, like something was around the corner.

"mammon?"

his world is engulfed in a bright light, and mammon flinches away from it. you curse, and that's when he realizes you just shined a flashlight through the darkness and accidentally blinded him. he hears hissed apologies and shuffling as he blinks rapidly, trying to regain his bearings.

"what are ya doin' here?"

"i couldn't sleep thinking about you hanging out here all night," you explain, carefully leaning over the railing to reach for him. he gladly takes your hand and lets you lead his to a solid edge. he grasps at it tightly and tries to restart his body after hours of swinging dormant and bloodless. "so i came to get you. you can sleep in my room for the night."

once he's got a secure hold on the ledge, you begin to tug and pull at the ropes binding him. they're tight, but you persist. when he's finally free enough to save himself, he hears your footsteps scurry up to the next flight and mess with the rope up there.

riiiip!

the rope collapses with a loud groan, and suddenly the pressure on mammon's body loosens. he yanks his body towards the ledge, quickly, before gravity makes him splatter at the bottom of the stairwell. his body flings limply over the railing and he collapses on the smooth floor in a heap. your footsteps, muffled by your socks yet still urgent-- not that mammon would ever admit to memorizing the sound of your footsteps-- get closer and closer until you're by his side. your voice is a gentle coo as you help untangle him from the slack ropes clinging to his torso.

"lucifer told me not to come get you but... you always look so miserable up there."

he slurrs out something akin to a thank you, but you don't let him speak much. his chest is warm as he fumbles to stand. you're an angel. his beautiful, loving savior. his heart thumps in his chest, in part to get his blood flowing again but definitely also because your arms are now wrapped around him, gentle and steady as you help him to his feet.

"shhh, it's okay. c'mon, don't push yourself too hard. you look like shit."

you assist him to your room. he feels like an idiot stumbling down the steps and across the house, but with you he doesn't mind as much. his brain slowly returns to him as his body gets moving. you're in a big sweatshirt and comfy sleep shorts-- fuck, you look pretty cute like that. he can't seem to keep his eyes to himself as you walk him across the house, but you're too concerned with making sure you both get to your room unnoticed to care.

you nudge the door closed with your heel and coax him up onto your bed. even though he can stand just fine now, you don't seem to trust him to remain upright all by himself. when he spreads out on the bed, you begin lecturing him-- firmly, so he knows you're disappointed, but your heart's not behind it. your eyes are soft and forgiving as you look at him.

"-- just," his thoughts finally clear, and he tunes back in to the lecture, "stop... doing stupid shit, okay? i hate seeing you get in trouble like that."

he nods dumbly, but you don't seem convinced.

"i mean it. watching you hang there makes me anxious-- i know you're not gonna fall or anything but i still can't help but worry about you. it makes me sick, mammon. just... come to me before doing something stupid, okay? and i'll talk you out of it."

"okay." his mouth feels like cotton as it forms around the word. he'd agree to whatever you said as long as you keep looking at him like that. this kindness is not out of character for you, but it makes him hot and bothered under the collar.

how long have these feelings been festering inside of him?

before he can even process what you're doing, you pull him into a tight hug. your body is warm against his, situated nicely between his legs as he sits on the edge of your bed. he wraps his arms around you on instinct. he nuzzles his neck into your shoulder and breathes your scent in. you're so you. so unapologetically human, so flawed, yet so wonderful all the same. his arms tighten around you.

he's never had as much fun as he's had when you're in the devildom. whether it be at home in his room or lost in the lights of poker tables and slot machines, as long as you're there, he's feeling unstoppable. he likes passing you notes at RAD and watching your lips curl into that sneaky smile. he hates sharing you with his brothers-- they don't understand you like he does. you have an unshakeable bond, formed by that first pact inked in your skin. you're his human, his best friend, his-

that's the moment that it hits him.

mammon is completely, utterly in love with you.

his face burns at the realization, and he nearly pushes you away when he straightens up suddenly. you blink up at his hurried movement, startled, and ask him what's wrong.

what's wrong? what's wrong? dammit, he's in love with you! his hands tremble as he nervously pulls at his jacket. he hears himself mutter some lame excuse about being tired and shaky after a long night of hanging upside down.

you climb onto your bed and coax him to lay next to you with a soft smile. his limbs feel heavy but his head is swimming through cotton. love. love. he loves you. he loves you when you curl up under the covers and when you lift them up to invite him to join. he loves you when you nuzzle into the sheets and when you lay your head down and when you scooch a little closer so he can feel your heat and--

relax. breathe. mammon's thoughts are racing as fast as his heart and he needs to take a moment before his head explodes all over your bed.

you cuddle closer and he takes a moment to wrap his arms around you. there's a content sigh that leaves your lips. he's smitten.

you, who he babysat in your early days at RAD. you, who tricked him into a pact. you, who defends him from his brothers even when he's wrong, clearly wrong. you, who came to rescue him even though you know it'll probably put you on the receiving end of a lecture.

your breathing steadies out and he can tell you're on your way to sleep. just like that, huh? mammon is having one of the biggest realizations of his life, and there you are, falling asleep. you must feel really safe in his arms to do something like that. his lips find the top of your head and he presses a soft kiss against your hair.

morning will come in a few hours. soon lucifer will notice that mammon's spot is empty, and he'll come searching for him to instill a new punishment. soon the day will begin again and he'll have to give you up, let you out of his arms where the devildom is harsh and unforgiving.

but tonight, you're both here. still, quiet, drifting into unconsciousness while intertwined. tonight, mammon is all alone with the human he's fallen completely, desperately, unequivocally in love with.

taglist for this series: empty

[14thgalerie]

the one

• pairing: theodore nott x riddle!reader

• now playing: hayloft by mother mother / you that i want by divine

• word count: 1.7k

• genre: angst, fluff, hint of smut

— short one that i kept thinking of.

Theo slumped in his chair, fatigue weighing heavily on him. The clock on the wall opposite him ticked relentlessly, unforgiving of his sleepless state. He had long abandoned any hope of finding any rest. He hadn’t been able to since that fateful night when everything felt right in his life.

His mind wouldn’t grant him solace. Each time his weary eyelids dared to meet from the pure exhaustion of the stress of OWLS, the ongoing war, his brain kept feeding him images of you. You, who kept haunting him from the very forefront of his mind. 

The natural curve of your eyelashes. The way it fluttered against his cheeks as your lips made a blazing trail across his cheeks. Gentle whispers that drown him in sheer bliss still send shivers down his spine. 

His tie lay abandoned, discarded beside him, next to the pile of papers swept aside in his frustration earlier. The long, emerald fabric had felt too suffocating amidst the overwhelming thoughts of you.

He couldn’t help but wonder if you would also be writhing in bed, unable to fall asleep as he does. Would your dreams torment you with the brief time his hands tangled onto your hair, wayward? Does your dormant body spin cruel variations of that time, telling him tantalising tales of what could’ve occurred if only your insufferable blonde companion hadn’t so abruptly interrupted?

He had never loved you.

Not in the way you wanted.

This desire to fill the emptiness in your heart, to have somebody give you the time and day has obscured that truth. A part of you knew, from the very beginning, but this desperation forced you to turn yourself blind.

Draco was there, a constant presence in your life, a perfect match to have by your side. Born only 24 hours apart, and 10 years of your childhood spent solely with him.

In truth, you both used the other, a fact that you ignored. He relied on you for protection and status as your partner, while you clung to him to feel the fleeting sense of warmth. But the perpetual storm of reality always wearing you both down and, you were rapidly losing the strength to keep yourself afloat.

Unspoken words hung heavy in the air between the both of you as the year progressed and the inevitable return of your father neared. At first, you had both kept your feelings at bay, not wanting this to jeopardise your friendship altogether. But as time went on, it became a routine. Venom spit from raised voices, threats of abandonment and indifference to each other, reconciliation accompanied by hollow promises and sex.

“Are you a bloody fool? She is my best friend and yet again, Draco ‘can’t-keep-his-boxers-on’ Malfoy decided that didn’t matter!” You screamed in frustration, but it didn’t seem to matter when he didn’t even so much as falter at the volume. 

“We aren’t even together, so why should it?” He carelessly replies, an air of indifference surrounding him.

“We aren’t? You truly are an insufferable git, I spent two years committing myself to you, and you never thought to mention that little detail before?” You scoffed, incredulous at the idea. It was foolish and outrageous, and not at all like how the man you know would think. Despite your differences with one another, he would still treat you with at least the respect you give to a friend, but now…

“Oh please! Don’t act as if your mind has not been completely filled with that mindless buffoon.” 

“For Merlin’s sake, do not dare turn this on me…” You challenged him. 

“Or what? Threaten to have your father kill me? Well, surprise, darling, I’m no stranger to that already.” He humorlessly chuckles. “I’ve seen you. I’ve seen that god-awful lovesick look on your face at the mere sight of his back. I am not the complete bloody fool you think I am.”

It hurt, truly, despite the fact that this started as a hilarious excuse of a relationship. You cared for Draco and to see him constantly destroy everything and everyone in his path of destruction left you unable to conjure up any more excuses for him.

“I am done, Draco. We can stop whatever awful pretentious act we put ourselves to and live on our own as you seem to hardly care for even yourself anymore these days.” You laugh, defeat etched on your face.

He never gave you the love that you sought, the kind that Theo had laid bare in complete display for you in just under seven minutes in that tiny closet. 

“You came back to me.” He whispers, close enough for his lips to touch the corner of your lips but there’s just a stutter of breath. It makes you want to instinctively kneel and look up to him and beg religiously for mercy, the way he speaks.

“I did.” You reply. Unmoving, but your patience wears thin.

“Look at you,” He mutters, his hand tugging at your head by your hair, exposing your neck to him, and your knees nearly buckle at his breath that burns against your jaw. “I haven’t even touched you properly yet and you’re almost like putty in my hands already.”

“Shut it, Nott.” You quickly remark a decision you notably regret when you are left standing in the middle of the room all by yourself. The cold air from the ajar window left your skin tingling with an uncomfortable feeling akin to when Draco touched you in the past weeks.

You scoff, the sound more as if you were nearly pleading. “What are you doing?”

“You know I hate it when you act like a brat.” He inclined his head, and the movement leaves chills running through your spine for the action is almost similar to someone sinister. But weirdly, it makes you want to tease him even more.

“Oh please, Theo. I’m not blind, as if you don’t dream of it.” You slowly approach him, your fingers make a motion of dragging along the ends of the poster beds. “The way I see your eyes tremble when I contradict every single thing you say. I know you are depraved when your thoughts are only of my mouth…”

You hear a sharp intake of breath when you come near. “The way you would just love it if you could shut me up by having my lips wrapped around you. I know you, Theo.”

His lips twitch into a mirthless smile, he reaches almost mindlessly for your collar. His thumb barely touches the skin of your neck. “Yes, you do.”

His eyes are intense as they dart to your mouth. Your tongue unconsciously makes a sweep against your dry lips.

“I suppose Draco will show me exactly how.”

Taking a page of this man’s book is terrifying but you are tired of this game of tug that you keep playing.

“That would be wise. ”

He’s still looking at your lips.

“I’ll go then.” You try again, unwilling to make the move.

“Go on, you won’t hear a sound of protest from me.” But you remain standing in front of him, the will to move weak against the desire to have him.

“Really?”

“No.”

Theo grabs the back of your head, tangled his fingers in your hair, and made a mess of your mouth. With his lips attached to yours, you grab him by his shirt and the both of you kiss as if you were third years again. Your teeth clashed into each other time and time again and you couldn’t find it in you to slow down. 

The need to kiss him, to feel what you’ve been thinking of for several nights on end.  You push back at him, desperate to feel the same hunger and need in him, as he kisses you deeper and more profound than you ever thought possible.

The soft, selfish hands that you wished so badly to wipe clean off the bodies of other women move up from the bottom of your back to move you impossibly closer until you are almost one. His voice is ragged when he pulls away, a thin thread of saliva still connecting you.

He says against your cheek, “I love you. I’d die for you. Nobody can ever give you what I could make the pain go away like I could, not even that dense fuck who has a deeper sense of self-preservation than his parents.”

You swallow, agonised by the sudden slow pace that he moves. Not an ounce of energy dared to waste to defend your ex. “I will love you anywhere.”

You shiver at the raw and pure intensity that laced the declaration. You almost want to ask, to hear how. But you don’t think your mind could properly comprehend the ability to piece together the right words to ask.

His heart is pounding from beneath your fingers as you feel the pulse on his neck, almost leaping it out as if all it wants is for you to finally claim it as yours. Encase it in a glass case and put it on display for all else to see.

“In a bookstore, by the water fountain, the sidewalk, in the flames of your home.” His hands come down to your hips, his fingers digging in so harshly that by morning sunlight, purple will be painted on your skin but it feels so heavenly that you don’t push them away.

“I love you, not for the protection you provide and for your substantial looks, but for all the small things you do that bear your soul to me.” 

Your hands meet around the back of his neck as he carries you by your thighs towards his bed. Pulling at the fabric that keeps him away from you.

“I’ll love you even as you tell me you hate me. I love you enough that I will scour the face of this earth for a place where I can take you away from your nightmares.” 

“I-“ He sighs into your lips, completely delighted by the intimacy that only his mind could conjure up in the lone nights. “I love you.”

You move for the buttons of his polo, while he moves to pull your shirt from you. A race that leaves you both fumbling when you feel his hand carving a path against your waist and up to your chest. You are left scalding, tiny bounces of light flickering in your eyes.

“I will be at your string’s end.”

masterlist

[liviawildrose]

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐬

what even are chakras?

chakras (from the sanskrit word cakra, meaning “wheel” or “disc”) are spinning vortexes of subtle energy that exist within your pranic body (also called the “subtle body”). they’re not physical organs, but energetic hubs where mind, body, and spirit meet.

chakras were described as energy centers (padmas, or “lotuses”) that store prana: life force, within the subtle body, which is different from the physical body.

this subtle body is composed of nadis (energy channels), koshas (layers of consciousness), and chakras (energy hubs).

the original chakra texts were written in sanskrit, and the most detailed source comes from the shat-chakra-nirupana, a 16th-century tantric text that laid out the seven main chakras and their symbolic, spiritual, and physiological associations.

they influence your thoughts, emotions, physical health, spiritual growth, relationships, and even your damn bank account.

when your chakras are healthy and flowing freely, your whole life aligns like sacred geometry. when they’re blocked or chaotic? expect spiritual lag, emotional glitches, physical illness, and endless chaos.

important to note:

in the original tantric system, chakras weren’t “self-care tools” they were maps to divine awakening used during intense yogic, meditative, and kundalini practices to transcend ego, illusion, and reincarnation. it was liberation tech, not lifestyle inspo.

but now, in this modern age of energy work, psychology, and soul evolution, the chakra system has become a universal template applicable to everyone, not just yogis. and we’re gonna fuse that original wisdom with real psychology, real healing, and real magic.

origin of the chakra system

• earliest references to energy centers show up in the Vedas (ancient hindu scriptures) around 1500–1000 BCE.

• the shat-chakra-nirupana, a 16th-century tantric text, outlined the 7-chakra system most people know today.

• the system was never meant to be aesthetic it was part of a serious spiritual practice to activate kundalini shakti, the dormant divine feminine energy said to be coiled at the base of your spine.

originally, chakra work was about liberating the soul from illusion (maya) and achieving moksha (spiritual liberation). but in today’s world, chakra healing can help you:

• release trauma + emotional baggage

• align with your highest self

• create energetic flow in your career, love life, and creative path

• experience divine connection + psychic expansion

how do chakras work?

imagine 7 power stations wired along your spine. each one governs a certain aspect of your physical body, emotional world, mental patterns, and spiritual connection.

when they’re:

• balanced → energy flows freely = peace, joy, purpose, radiance

• blocked → stuck energy = fear, fatigue, illness, toxic patterns

• overactive → too much energy = burnout, anxiety, ego overdrive

• underactive → not enough energy = apathy, insecurity, numbness

your 7 main chakras

1. root chakra – muladhara

“i exist. i survive. i am grounded.”

• sanskrit: mula = root, adhara = support/foundation

• location: base of spine, pelvic floor

• element: earth

• color: red

• mantra: LAM

• gland: adrenal glands (fight-or-flight center)

• body link: spine, legs, bones, colon

• psych themes: survival, money, stability, belonging, family, safety

imbalanced symptoms:

• underactive: anxiety, disconnection, poverty mindset, fear of abandonment

• overactive: hoarding, controlling behavior, stubbornness, material obsession

• trauma imprints: childhood neglect, abandonment, physical abuse etc.

when balanced:

• you feel safe in your body and the world

• you can build structure and discipline with ease

• you attract abundance + grounded stability

• you trust life even when it’s hard

healing tools:

• grounding meditations

• red foods: beets, root vegetables, chili

• physical touch, body-based therapies (somatic work)

• walk barefoot, work with hematite, black tourmaline

• build routines + financial structure

• affirmation: “i am worthy of safety and abundance.”

2. sacral chakra – svadhisthana

“i feel. i create. i allow pleasure.”

• sanskrit: sva = self, adhisthana = dwelling place

• location: lower abdomen, 2 inches below navel

• element: water

• color: orange

• mantra: VAM

• gland: reproductive system

• body link: womb, bladder, hips, genitals

• psych themes: sensuality, emotions, creativity, pleasure, intimacy

imbalanced symptoms:

• underactive: numbness, shame, low libido, creative block, disconnection from body

• overactive: hypersexuality, addiction, obsession, drama

• trauma imprints: sexual abuse, body shame, religious guilt, heartbreak

when balanced:

• you radiate magnetism, sensuality, and artistic flow

• your emotions move freely without controlling you

• you’re tapped into your divine feminine and creative life force

• you allow yourself to feel pleasure without guilt

healing tools:

• sensual dance (belly dance, twerking, slow flow yoga)

• sacred baths with rose + orange oil

• creative practices (painting, singing, scripting)

• orange calcite, moonstone

• inner child + womb healing

• affirmation: “i honor my body. i deserve to feel good.”

3. solar plexus – manipura

“i act. i choose. i claim my power.”

• sanskrit: mani = jewel, pura = city → “city of jewels”

• location: stomach, between ribs and navel

• element: fire

• color: yellow

• mantra: RAM

• gland: pancreas + digestive system

• body link: liver, gallbladder, intestines

• psych themes: identity, ambition, boundaries, ego, self-discipline

imbalanced symptoms:

• underactive: low self-esteem, indecision, victim mentality

• overactive: arrogance, perfectionism, aggression, burnout

• trauma imprints: bullying, strict parenting, humiliation, failure shame

when balanced:

• you’re decisive, empowered, and assertive without arrogance

• you have strong boundaries and healthy self-esteem

• you feel motivated and energized to go after what you want

• you become a natural leader

healing tools:

• sunbathing, breath of fire, core exercises

• wear yellow, work with citrine or pyrite

• personal power rituals (write + burn limiting beliefs)

• practice saying “no”

• affirmation: “i am the author of my life. i am enough.”

4. heart chakra – anahata

“i love. i forgive. i connect.”

• sanskrit: anahata = unstruck, infinite sound

• location: center of chest

• element: air

• color: green / pink

• mantra: YAM

• gland: thymus (immune system)

• body link: lungs, heart, arms, hands

• psych themes: compassion, forgiveness, empathy, romantic love, grief

imbalanced symptoms:

• underactive: isolation, coldness, fear of intimacy, bitterness

• overactive: martyrdom, people-pleasing, jealousy, attachment

• trauma imprints: loss, betrayal, rejection, emotional neglect

when balanced:

• you feel deep connection to others and to life itself

• you radiate unconditional love without losing yourself

• your immune system strengthens (yes, real science backs this)

• you can forgive, grieve, and love again

healing tools:

• breathwork (especially heart coherence)

• ho’oponopono (forgiveness prayer)

• emerald, rose quartz

• write love letters to self

• self-compassion meditations

• affirmation: “i am love. i radiate unconditional compassion.”

5. throat chakra – vishuddha

“i speak. i express. i tell the truth.”

• sanskrit: vishuddha = purification

• location: throat and neck

• element: ether (space)

• color: sky blue

• mantra: HAM

• gland: thyroid

• body link: vocal cords, mouth, jaw, ears

• psych themes: communication, truth, expression, listening

imbalanced symptoms:

• underactive: fear of speaking, introversion, repression

• overactive: gossip, interrupting, dominating convos

• trauma imprints: being silenced, punished for truth, gaslighting

when balanced:

• you speak with clarity, confidence, and integrity

• your voice becomes a tool for healing and influence

• you can express yourself artistically and emotionally

• you’re deeply heard by others

healing tools:

• chanting, singing, vocal toning

• write + speak affirmations out loud

• journal your truth

• use lapis lazuli, blue lace agate

• affirmation: “my voice matters. i speak my truth with grace.”

6. third eye – ajna

“i see. i know. i trust my inner wisdom.”

• sanskrit: ajna = to perceive, to command

• location: forehead, between eyebrows

• element: light

• color: indigo

• mantra: OM

• gland: pineal gland (melatonin, circadian rhythms)

• body link: brain, eyes, sinuses

• psych themes: intuition, imagination, perception, clarity

imbalanced symptoms:

• underactive: confusion, over-intellectualizing, lack of faith

• overactive: paranoia, delusion, dissociation

• trauma imprints: disillusionment, spiritual rejection, fear of intuition

when balanced:

• you trust your intuition without needing external validation

• you see life symbolically, not just literally

• dreams become vivid and prophetic

• you develop inner wisdom + spiritual intelligence

healing tools:

• meditation (especially vipassana + visualization)

• dream journaling

• limit screen time

• work with amethyst or labradorite

• third eye massage

• affirmation: “i see clearly. i trust my soul’s vision.”

7. crown chakra – sahasrara

“i transcend. i merge. i remember who i truly am.”

• sanskrit: sahasrara = thousand-petaled

• location: top of the head

• element: pure consciousness

• color: violet / white

• mantra: OM

• gland: pineal + pituitary

• body link: brain, nervous system

• psych themes: spirituality, divine connection, oneness, transcendence

imbalanced symptoms:

• underactive: atheism, existential dread, lack of purpose

• overactive: spiritual bypassing, superiority complex

• trauma imprints: spiritual rejection, religious abuse, nihilism

when balanced:

• you experience oneness with the universe

• you tap into divine downloads, flow states, soul alignment

• you feel limitless, guided, and expansive

• you recognise yourself as a vessel for higher love + wisdom

healing tools:

• meditation in silence

• crown chakra mudras + breathwork

• read sacred texts / study universal wisdom

• selenite, clear quartz

• fast or detox occasionally

• affirmation: “i am one with the divine. i am infinite consciousness in form.”

how to activate, align, and master your chakras daily

• do chakra meditation

• listen to solfeggio frequencies for specific chakras

• wear color-coded outfits / makeup to amplify each chakra

• eat chakra-aligned foods for lunch + dinner

• pull tarot spreads for each chakra to check your energy

• speak chakra mantras out loud in order to harmonize your field

• visualize golden energy spiraling from root to crown every night

[inkbybambi]

simon "ghost" riley/john "soap" mactavish/f!reader words: 4.2k warnings: mmf, threesome, fingering, anal fingering, finger sucking, riding, creampie, doggy style, pet names (kitten, bonnie, angel, etc), dirty talk, breeding kink notes: this was written as part of the valentine's exchange from @bunnyreaper ♡ this is a gift for @auspicioustidings ♡ this is my first time writing a threesome, but i loved every moment of it ♡ header image is coral charm peony ii by mia tarney

The light of the dying sun slowly drains from the horizon, hues of blues, pinks, and purples following in its wake. There’s a gentle breeze coming through the open windows of the cottage; a little haven tucked away for you and yours. A smile plays at your lips as a small cow-shaped timer trills from its perch on the kitchen counter. You slip on a pair of oven mitts decorated with highland cattle, taking out your shortbread from the oven lest it bake for even a moment too long. 

Your boys were due to be home soon and this sweet treat was the last on your to-do list. 

They had left you earlier that week with a messy amount of kisses pressed to your cheeks and forehead and lips and anywhere they could reach, really. You had similarly returned the favor, finding your favorite lipstick to press marks onto Simon’s mask and Johnny’s glove before pressing other faded marks elsewhere. 

Before letting them cross the threshold back into the world — one that had tried to take them from you more times than you could count — you spritzed your favorite perfume on their wrists, sealing it with a kiss. The scent may fade with the mark, but they’ll know. 

Your heart ached the moment they left and its felt more numb in the days since, waiting dormant for them to return, to let you breathe fully knowing they’re there, that they hadn’t been taken from you. 

You inhale sharply to disperse your lingering worries. They’ve always, always come home to you. Today will be no different.

You leave the shortbread to cool on a rack as you gather your sugar and butter for the caramel next. 

The one perk of solitude means the abundance of time you had to practice. Johnny isn’t necessarily known for his patience — not when it comes to you or Simon — and he would’ve been quite the distraction. You burnt enough caramel without him, thank you very much. 

The soft, warm lights of the kitchen accompany you humming Simon’s favorite song, staring patiently at your pan as your sugar melts slowly, pulling you into a sugary-sweet trance. 

You lose yourself to your very serious task of making sure your caramel doesn’t burn, the melody of the song lost in your throat as your humming softens, concentration on anything outside your little kitchen waning. 

The click of the front door doesn’t phase you, and neither does the muffled thump of boots and bags. The sugar has started to dissolve and you can’t bear to lose your concentration now. 

“Bonnie!” 

You barely have time to register Johnny’s excited shout, head snapping up only moments before strong arms wrap around your waist, hauling you up to spin you in a hug. 

“Johnny!” you laugh through your startled yelp, squirming in equal parts because you want to hug him properly and to get back to your caramel. 

“Johnny, the caramel!” you exclaim when his grip on you only tightens, his face pressed between your shoulder blades. 

“Ach, we dinnae caramel,” he says almost petulantly, voice lost against the fabric of your shirt. He does put you down — albeit reluctantly — but all you do is turn in his hold to lace your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer than before. 

“Missed ye,” he says as a soft kiss is pressed to your temple and you bury further into the crook of his neck. You’ve missed his warmth, and his scent, and the comfort of him and being his. 

You feel like you miss him all the time, but it’s the moments when they’re first back when you realize just how much, and the knot of worry slowly unfurls the longer you spend in his arms. 

He cradles the nape of your neck gently and you can hear the angry bubbling of your sugar — too far gone now to save — but you wouldn’t be able to pull yourself away from him for even a moment. 

“Where’s Si?” you ask against his skin when there’s a very distinct lack of your other half from the kitchen, craving his touch just as badly. 

It’s not real until you’ve seen them both, until you’ve touched them both, to know that they aren’t the phantoms that will sometimes accompany your dreams, your memories. 

“Think he went to the shower, hen,” comes Johnny’s soothing reply, pulling you back from your hiding spot to cradle your face in his hands. 

You used to hate how small you felt with them; how it felt like you were an accessory to them rather than part of them. 

Now you feel nothing but protected, cradled carefully in their hold, their own way of keeping you safe. 

You pout, glancing over his shoulder, down the hall to where the bedroom lay, seeing the faint hint of light from the bathroom spilling out. Johnny’s calloused thumb rubs over your bottom lip, before he crowds in close enough to give you  a soft kiss. 

“Without us?” you ask, and he snorts in reply. 

“Go on, then,” he says as he herds you towards the bedroom, a gentle pat to your ass to urge you along. “Go join ‘im.” 

Your pout deepens, holding out your hand for him. 

“Come with me,” you don’t whine, but you wiggle your fingers enticingly. You’ve been without them for so long, you don’t want to go another second without either of them. 

You’re selfish in very few ways, but are unapologetically so when it comes to your boys. 

Johnny steps into your space, a soft kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth, before nudging your cheek with his nose. 

“I’ll be right behind you,” he promises with another lingering kiss, and you nuzzle into him momentarily before nodding and releasing his hold. Like a moth to a flame, you follow the path to the bedroom, seeing Simon’s clothes already tucked into the basket that’s specifically meant for their work clothes. Anything to separate who they are out there to who they are with you. 

You shed your own clothes, placing them in the empty hamper before stepping into the bathroom, the tile cold on your feet. 

He stands just beyond the glass, new scratches and bruises littering his skin. You’re going to kiss each and every one before you fall asleep tonight. You take a few moments to appreciate him; the broad expanse of his back, the slight layer of fat that surrounds his tummy, thick thighs that you love to bury yourself between, muscles moving like water. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” comes his teasing lilt as he turns to face you, a smirk plastered on his lips as he tilts his head in invitation. You bite your lip to hide your excitement, hurrying over to join him in the shower, taking his hand as he reaches for you, drawing you under the spray of the water.

“I have plenty of photos, actually,” you tease back. He tilts your chin up with a tattooed finger, leaning down to kiss you, before he moves to hold your throat delicately, keeping you in place. You inch up on your toes to press even closer, nipples pressed against his broad chest. 

“Not nearly enough, love,” he replies, not giving you a moment to answer before he draws you back into his mouth, licking into you and swallowing your gasps. You hum and lean into him, lacing your arms around his shoulders. One of his large hands splays against the middle of your back, the other trailing down your spine to the curve of your ass, pulling you in close. 

“Missed you,” you breathe out between kisses, as you cup his face to kiss him deeper, desperation thickening in your veins the longer you’re in his hold. “Missed you so much,” and your nails dig into his skin, adding a collection of your own marks to the others on his body. 

A warm body at your back makes you shiver, pulling away from your kiss to lean your head back on his shoulder. Simon cradles the back of Johnny’s head, kissing him softly. 

“You two need to clean up,” you murmur into Johnny’s jaw, lips grazing the stubble that’s been growing for a few days. It burns your lips, but you’re thankful for any reminder of them. 

“But you’re so comfortable,” Johnny practically whines as he leans further into you, arms tight around your waist, thankful Simon was there to provide stability or else you absolutely would’ve lost balance. 

“Johnny,” Simon admonishes gently, a bite to his ear in reprimand. Johnny squeezes your tummy tighter in reply, but turns to brush his nose gently over Simon’s. 

You wriggle from his grip, a hand on each of their forearms for balance, pressing a kiss to the corner of Johnny’s mouth before pressing one to Simon’s. 

“The quicker you get clean, the quicker you can join me on the bed,” is your parting words as you grab a fluffy towel from the rack, drying yourself before sauntering to the bedroom, diving into fresh sheets. 

You hear the soft murmurs of their conversation curtained by the fall of the water, rolling onto your back and arching up as you stretch, feeling as the tension seeps from your body, relaxing further into the mattress. 

“MacTavish!” comes Simon’s warning bark before a very excited, very wet Johnny launches himself into the bed at you, burrowing his face into your neck as you giggle, feeling the bubbles of body wash that he hadn’t bothered to rinse all the way off. 

He peppers your throat and jaw with kisses, teeth scraping every now and then before he reaches your mouth for a breathless kiss, and you cradle his head gently, nails grazing along the nape of his neck, feeling how his shaved sides have grown just a little since they went away. You’re sure he’ll let you clean him up proper tomorrow, but you don’t want you or either of your boys to leave the bed for the foreseeable future. 

“Simon’s grumpy,” he says against your cheek, and you can’t help but snort. 

“Can’t possibly imagine why,” you tease in return, gripping a longer part of his mohawk and giving a harsh tug, hoping Simon brings an extra towel or two with him because the bed is damn near drenched — and not in the fun way. 

“Absolute menace, that one,” Simon says as he comes from the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips showing the tantalizing line of his tummy that you love so much. 

“Aye,” Johnny agrees with a cheeky smile, removing himself from you and sitting on his heels, settling himself over you to turn back and look at Simon. “But ye love me.” 

Simon comes forward with a fresh towel in hand, motioning for Johnny so he can dry him off. 

Simon doesn’t say anything in reply — he doesn’t have to, and both you and Johnny know that your declarations of love will never go unrequited — instead stopping at the edge of the bed and reaching for him. 

“Be a good pup,” you say as  you push him back with your foot, pressing him back into Simon’s hold so he can dry him off, ruffling his mohawk and wiping away the lingering drops that cling to his tanned skin, Johnny’s own marks and scars adorning his body. The intensity of the blue of his eyes feels like a shock of electricity, his gaze unwavering from yours as Simon tilts his head to the side to press a gentle kiss to his jaw, a soft I love you pressed to his skin. Simon’s lips graze over to his ear, murmuring something too low for you to hear. 

Johnny turns enough to catch Simon’s mouth in a rough, dirty kiss, teeth nipping his bottom lip before a tap to his ass pushes him into motion, crawling his way over the bed back to you. 

You arch up into his body as he slinks closer, a hand on your jaw pulling you into for a filthy kiss of your own. You whine against his mouth as Johnny pulls you up from where you lay on the bed, moving to take your place. 

Johnny settles you over his hips, blue eyes sparkling in the lingering light of the bathroom, a fond smile painting his lips. As cute as he looks — and he looks adorable — the thick heat of his cock resting between your legs makes you ache, makes you want him to take what he wants. His nails dig into your calves as he anchors you against him, rocking his hips against yours, cock moving through your slick and catching on your clit. 

“God, we missed ye,” Johnny sighs out as he digs his nails into your skin, and you bite your lip against the sting of his possession. 

“Never heard the end of it,” Simon says as he comes around the side of the bed, one leg braced on the mattress, the towel parting enough to show his aching cock. 

“Did you take good care of our pup?” you ask through a gasp as you turn to the blonde, eyes fluttering as Johnny’s cock catches at your entrance. 

“Always, love,” he promises, Simon crowding in close as you pull his towel loose, blindly tossing it from the bed as he kneels on the bed at your side, swallowing your next gasp as he presses his lips to yours. 

“Don’t like it when you leave,” you pout against his lips as he moves to kiss down your jaw and throat, trailing his lips over your shoulder. Your head tilts to the side, wanting his teeth in your skin. 

“We’re here, darlin’,” Johnny soothes as a hand grazes up your side to grip your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple until it hardens under his touch. You lay above him, arms braced by his head as you catch him in a kiss, happily letting him take control as his tongue licks deep into your mouth. “We’re not going anywhere,” is his whispered promise and you just nod in agreement as you press your mouth back against his, unable to get enough of his touch, of his taste. 

“Missed your cock,” you whimper with a sharp roll of your hips, Simon settling behind you, hands on your waist as his chin tucks over your shoulder, watching your slick soak Johnny’s cock. 

“Gorgeous thing,” is Simon’s soft purr of praise, one of his hands slipping down the line of your tummy until he can press two fingers against your clit, his other hand grazing up to hold your throat, tilting your head back against his shoulder. 

“Dreamed of your cunt, bonnie,” Johnny pants from beneath you, feeling his cock pulse with each of your thrusts. His fingers grip your hips tight, and Simon tuts at him from his perch over your shoulder. 

“Don’t cum, pup,” and Johnny only whines in reply, nails biting into your skin. “Wanna see your cum spill from her pretty pussy.” 

You’re breathless, need and want coursing through your blood, desperate for something more. 

“Please,” you mewl as you try to paw for Johnny’s chest, but Simon’s hold on your throat keeps you in place. 

One of Johnny’s hands grip you hard enough to lift you from his lap, his other fisting the root of his cock so he can guide you down onto him slowly, your pussy fluttering as you sink deeper in his lap until he’s completely sheathed. 

“Fuck,” he bites out, and you feel the way his legs shake as he holds off his release. He looks gorgeous beneath you, head thrown back against the pillows, the line of his throat exposed and mournfully free of marks from either you or Simon. 

“How’s she feel?” Simon asks, dipping his fingers lower to feel for himself  where you and Johnny are connected. 

“L-like a fuckin’ dream,” comes his panted reply. 

“You wanna fuck ‘er?” he asks, like you aren’t even here. 

You feel like you aren’t, lost in the pleasure of Johnny’s cock nestled deep inside you, stuffing you full. You don’t think Johnny is capable of words after a week without you and your touch, but soon he starts a slow grind of his hips up into you, the crown of his cock pressing against your cervix. 

You cry out in pleasure as he continues the slow roll of his hips, fighting the urge to beg him to fuck you rough. This is for him just as much as it is for you. 

Simon’s grip on your throat remains, thick fingers collaring you, keeping you safe. The two fingers he used to rub your clit, to feel where Johnny was plugged into you, grazes your lips. You willingly open your mouth, swallowing down his fingers as best you can with him behind you. 

“Did you miss me too, darling?” he asks, though you can feel his smirk pressed against your skin, knowing you can only gurgle your answer around his fingers, spit spilling out from the corner of your mouth. 

“I know, kitten,” he says with a kiss to your shoulder, pressing his fingers even deeper, causing you to choke, your throat working around his digits. “I missed you too.” 

He withdraws his fingers as you gasp for breath, losing it the next second when Johnny snaps his hips up hard against you. His soaked fingers trail down your spine to your other hole, the tight ring of muscle fluttering as he circles it, just pressing the tips of his fingers against it. 

“Johnny couldn’t stop talking about your ass,” Simon says against your skin. Your eyes flash to Johnny’s, glazed and dark, but his eyes are locked to Simon’s. “Told me how warm it is,” he continues, very carefully pressing one of his thick fingers against your rim as you beg yourself to relax. “How every single inch of you,” he says as he slowly begins to pump his finger deeper and deeper with each word, “is meant for us.” 

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus, Simon,” comes Johnny’s choked moan, “she’s squeezin’ me so tight.” 

Simon hums in reply as he continues his leisurely pace of fucking his finger into you. “Wonder what my cock would feel like in here,” he muses, continuing a line of kisses across your shoulders. He digs his teeth in deep into your shoulder, a shaky moan rising in your throat as he wiggles a second finger into the tight ring of muscle. 

“T-too much,” you whine out, asshole fluttering desperately around his fingers. Johnny’s cock was bigger than Simon’s two fingers — but it had been well over a week since either of them had touched you there. 

He stills as Johnny leans up to kiss along your collar and chest, tongue licking across your nipples. 

“Give me a color, love,” he asks gently, the fingers around your throat loosening so it’s easier for you to breathe. Johnny’s soft pants ghost against your skin as he holds your waist gently, ever so patient with you. 

“Bonnie?” comes Johnny’s soft prompting, laced with concern when you didn’t answer. 

“Green,” you whisper out after another moment of pause, and Simon’s answering good girl makes you melt further into their touch. 

Sweet, precious girl Johnny whispers against your collar, one arm laced around your waist as his other hand reaches for Simon’s hip. 

You bite your lip as tears thicken your throat. Your head is muddy with pleasure and love for your two boys, not realizing how much you’ve missed them until now, their soft praise spoken against your skin, kisses and devotion pressed to each exposed inch that they can reach. 

Simon carefully begins to thrust his fingers into you, sinking deeper each time until he’s able to curl and thrust without any resistance. Heat licks deep in your belly, broken moans catching in your throat with each expert thrust of his fingers. 

You vaguely hear him ask Johnny for the lube, hearing the pop of the cap as he squirts a generous amount into his hand, coating his length before smearing whatever is left over your hole, empty now without his fingers. 

He drags the tip of his cock over your hole, teasing the relaxed ring of muscle, watching as it looks like your hole is trying to draw him in, desperate. 

“Think you can take me, love?” comes his question pressed against your cheek, and you lace one arm back around to hold the nape of his neck, a soft yes falling from your lips. 

One thing you’ve learned from your boys is they always want to hear you. They love how vocal you are — Johnny especially — but hearing how badly you crave them, need them makes something primal in them snap, wanting to give you everything you beg for and more. 

“Slowly now,” he says as he pushes the crown past your ring of muscle, and you swallow thickly, nails digging into any part of Johnny you can reach. Johnny does his best to distract you with soft praises as Simon slowly sinks into you, pausing halfway when he feels you trembling under his touch. 

“Fuckin’ hell, darlin’,” he groans out, forehead resting on your shoulder. 

“Feels good, don’t she, Si?” 

Simon inhales sharply, raising his head enough to pull Johnny in for a kiss as your nails scratch at the base of Simon’s neck, leaning back against him as you watch your boys indulge in each other. 

“Incredible, just like you said,” he agrees with one more kiss, teeth nipping sharply at Johnny’s bottom lip. 

Johnny leans back down against the sheets, pulling you forward. Simon follows carefully, allowing Johnny to adjust your hips so it’s easier for him to sink the rest of the way into your hole. 

“Angel of our lives, ah swear,” Johnny says as he begins to carefully thrust up into you, knocking the wind from your lungs when his sharp thrust catches that squishy spot deep inside you that makes you keen and clench around them, Simon’s moan reverberating against your back. 

Simon carefully ruts into you, timing himself with Johnny’s thrusts, until you can’t think of anything more than the heat coursing through you, sparking and igniting like a wildfire. 

You can’t think of anything other than their names, but after a few minutes, Simon braces one of his feet on the bed so he can thrust in harder, rougher, and your voice cracks with how hard you cry out, lost to the pleasure. 

“Wanna stuff you full,” Johnny babbles beneath you, his thick thumb moving down to rub your clit, touch electric and causing you to moan and shudder in his hold. “Watch our cum drip from you until you’re full of our babe.” 

Simon’s free hand settles over your tummy, thumb stroking in surprising gentleness compared to the absolute filthy mess they’re making of you. 

“You want that, lovie?” Simon asks from behind you, his question punctuated with a sharp thrust, the obscene sound of his balls slapping against your ass accompanying the sounds of Johnny’s cock drenched in your slick. 

You’re helpless and reduced to nodding and whimpering, clenching hard around them as you whine out about giving them a baby. 

“Christ, love,” Johnny grits out before he’s spilling deep inside you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides. He grips the nape of your neck to bring you in for a kiss, a mixture of panting his moans against your mouth and swallowing your own. 

Simon’s fingers are back on your clit, your nub hard and sensitive, sensitive to his touch. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant out as you reach your peak, Simon buried deep inside you as his grinds, cock pressed deep inside you. 

Johnny’s cock pulses with your orgasm, walls fluttering and spilling your release over him, the force of it causing his cum to spill out from where Johnny’s still plugged deep. 

“Atta girl,” Simon snarls as he buries his teeth in your shoulder with his own release, your eyes rolling back as you feel each thick pulse of his cum. He growls as he minutely thrusts into you, his own cum spilling from where his cock is nestled in your ass, making a mess of Johnny beneath you two. 

Simon draws his teeth from your shoulder, soothing  over the wound with his tongue as it pulses with your heartbeat. Soft kisses are placed along the line of your shoulders and close to your throat as you settle into their touch. 

He gently draws you to him, pressing a significantly softer kiss to your lips as your breathing evens out. You press your forehead to his to bask in his warmth, his nose pressed to your cheek as his nuzzles into your skin before carefully pulling out, his cum slipping from your hole. He helps keep you in place for Johnny to pull out as well, before Johnny is gathering you into his arms, cradling you against his chest and running his fingers delicately along the line of your back. 

You hate how empty you feel without them, but they’re right there, close enough for you to touch, for you to know they’re here with you, home, finally. 

You nuzzle into Johnny’s hold, already the edges of sleep drawing you deep. Simon settles behind you, a thick arm around your waist, anchoring you to him, to them. You murmur something about ruined caramel, but the press of their lips across your cheeks and forehead are all you need, finally allowing you to rest in the comfort of their arms. 

[ghostykapi]

but you can’t touch me (if you love me)

misamo & fem!reader // filth so minors dni

“you know better than to move sweet girl, now stay still”

when you agree to your girlfriends to a bet, you knew better than to push it to the limits. you knew that your girlfriends are the competitive kind, the one that can leave you wondering what dormant devil lies underneath them

you still however lost the bet, and that’s why when one of them enters the room, you wonder if this is where they will start getting their reward.

“good morning my princess!” sana smiles, her energy always unmatched in the morning “i brought you some coffee down the block to start this friday morning”

“thank you sweetheart” you don’t argue when she sits on your lap, and starts kissing you, giggling in between the kisses “don’t you have to go to a photo shoot soon?”

“i do” sana’s hands grab the back of your neck to connect her into a more messy kiss “but my turn is still later this afternoon. i want to have fun with you first”

you work from home, staying cozy in your own makeshift office room, giving her a surge of confidence of what she wants to do. she moves her hands to unbutton your blouse before running them on your chest and tummy, lightly scratching her way down and going back up to do it again and again.

“so cute” sana is a meanie when it comes to teasing you, always managing to turn any of you into a stuttering mess “so fucking cute. gosh i love messing you up”

“sweetie” you’re head is spinning, but it’s still work hours and you’re pretty sure she might be late to work “sweetheart i have a meeting in 10”

“fine i’ll let you go” sana gives you another kiss and fixes your blouse, her hands tracing your fading marks on your neck and collarbone “but i expect good pictures later”

even if sana left to go to work, her teasing comes in form of texts that render your brain into mush in between those zoom meetings.

i miss you princess

i miss making you messy n all worked up for me :((

sweetheart you would be good girl and wait for us right?

you can only sigh and continue to work, as you weren’t allowed to touch yourself or do anything that will help you unless one of them is there

it was after your lunch break that you finally got what you needed

momo is one of the more, generous ones when it comes to bed. just let her hands roam everywhere on your body as she fucks you then it’s all good

“hi baby” you kiss her when she’s behind you, letting you tend to your work on your computer screen “how was work”

“missed you” she pouts, tugging you to your shared bedroom and unto the bed “do you have do some work?”

before you can even reply, she’s already kissing you, pinning you down and effectively trapping you there

“baby i still have to finish something” you try to complain but it falls on deaf ears as momo turns the kisses into a messy make out session

“don’t care” she mumbles while kissing you, her hands already disregarding both of your clothes “got to have you now”

you let her have you, in all ways that makes her happy and makes you feel good. her mouth everywhere on your body as you grip the sheets to keep yourself grounded. her hands playing with your clit, sending you shivering and moaning at the pleasure. her strap, her fucking goddamn strap, is ready and on her. so fucking ready to fuck you deep

“baby” you call out, thighs shaking as she plunges her fingers into you, preparing for what is about to come next “baby come on please”

“please what?” momo circles her tougne around your clit before sucking it, making you scream out in pleasure

“fuck! please just fuck me with your strap mommy!” you give in, already throwing out the rest of your dignity out the window

“that’s what i wanted to hear” momo pulls out her fingers before lining up the strap unto your pussy. she lets you grind unto it before slowly pushing it in

“you look so pretty like this” momo moans as she sinks down, the strap effectively stretching you out “you look so good being stretched out for me”

“mommy” you moan out, letting her hands play with your breasts as you bottom out on her strap “fuck mommy you feel so good”

“yeah?” momo grunts, starting out slowly to help you adjust with the feeling “feel so full don’t you pretty girl? so full of my cock”

that immediately goes straight to your brain as she starts to move a bit faster, her hips starting to gain a sense of rhythm that makes you melt against the sheets

“hngg–ugh–fuck!” you feel your hands twitch against you, seemingly wishing to grab onto momo. she notices it before you can even move

“nuh-uh baby” momo taunts, grabbing both of your hands and pinning it above you head “no touching remember?”

right, the whole reason why you lost the bet is because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself

“please” you beg as you begin to feel your thighs shake, your back arch, your “please mommy let me cum”

momo grins and starts to move at her fastest and hardest, slipping one of her hands to rub on your clit that sends you screaming

you let go loudly, sure that whoever your neighbors are, they can hear you and will probably file a complaint tomorrow. it takes you a full minute to even regain your focus on momo, who’s diligent to help you clean up and do some aftercare

“good job baby you did so good” momo coos and helps you come down from your high, rubbing her hands on your sides to help you calm down “so proud of you baby for taking me so well”

“thank you” you gasp, the amount of energy taken from you already showing its signs as your eyes start to close “cuddle with me at least?”

“always baby” momo wraps your arms around you, whispering soft nothings as you drift off into sleep

though it doesn’t take long for you to wake up again, when mina’s having the time of her life eating you out

“hmmph–m-mina” you call out, her eyes drinking you up as she sucks on your clit “hngg-oh g-gods why are you so–hng-fuck!–so good at that”

“hello my love” mina sing songs, inserting two fingers to replace her mouth “i think i’ll take my reward right now so be a good slut and take what i’ll give you”

mina is a lot of things and maybe that’s why she loves to make you feel a lot of things. first making you orgasm on her fingers, then on her thigh, then on her face and then now she’s pounding you down on the bed with her own strap.

so yeah she likes making you feel a lot of things, that’s why whenever you are with her, overstimulation is bound to happen.

“not enough” mina moans as she brings you up to your knees, and continues to fuck you, her arms helping you stay upright “i need you wailing and squealing for me”

“hngg-uggghhh-fuck!” your mind is nothing but a mess now, her dirty whispers and moans absolutely not helping you at all with this case

“that’s it” mina smirks as you continue you only let out moans and whimpers “that’s what i love to fucking hear”

mina’s thrusts sends you throwing your head back against her, the loud slapping echoing across the room that makes sana and momo drooling by the door

wait

sana and momo drooling by the door?

“fuck look at her” momo can’t take her eyes off the both of you, hypnotized by the way you beg mina to go harder with only broken moans “she’s taking mina so well”

“that’s not mina anymore” sana makes eye contact with mina, who smirks and makes a show of the new fresh marks she put on you “that’s sharon taking over”

“looks like we’ve got an audience” mina’s voice is nothing but mean and seductive that makes you almost weak on the knees “won’t you let them mark you up? hmm? will you be a good slut and let them play with you?”

you can’t even give a response before the other two join in the fun, their once shocked behavior replaced with a hunger of a predator that wants to play with their prey

momo is quick to latch unto your tits, her hands already all over your chest and tummy. sana prefers to messily kiss you, perfectly invading your senses and rendering you weak

“you look so good” sana praises you, even as the combined spit of both of you cover most of your jaw at this point “such a pretty obedient slut for us”

“fuck i can feel you shaking baby” mina pants, her thrusts not stopping even if her abs are burning “we need you to cum ok? just cum for us. make a fucking mess”

you don’t fully register it, but you were sure to give them what they want and more.

“good job sweetheart, you did such a good job” sana is quick to praise you, proud and a little bit shocked that you just squirted “let’s run you a bath hmm?”

“we’ll order some take out” momo kisses you softly, helping you melt in their arms “you did so good for us baby”

“our love deserves to be pampered tonight” mina sighs into your neck, kissing the fresh marks she added “so amazing for us”

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Don't Stop (Sandman One-Shot)

​GIF: Originally posted by @imironstark

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Smut. You and Morpheus are in the exploratory stages of your relationship. Morpheus asks to worship you, and all is going well. At least, that is, until you start to wake up...

Warnings: Minors DNI. Smut. Porn with plot. Kissing. Oral sex (AFAB receiving). Slight dominant Morpheus.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: So I watched Sweetbitter. With my partner. Maybe not the best idea because suppressing the squeaks of excitement whenever Tom came on screen was tough and not always 100% effective! The hyper fixation is still going strong... Hope you enjoy this one. All my love, Saskia xxx

Sandman Masterlist

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It is only when the violent spinning not only stops but holds for several minutes after, does Morpheus make steps in allowing his guard to drop.

He straightens elegantly out of his crouching position, withdrawing his hands from the scree smattered earth. He looks to his left, to Lucienne, who is warily regarding the ground and sky, wondering if they might start to rapidly switch places again.

She meets Morpheus' gaze and adjusts her round-framed spectacles with a steady hand.

"I might be speaking too soon, sir, but I truly think it is over now."

Morpheus takes one last steely appraisal of the horizon, almost daring it to misbehave.

He nods once. "I believe you are correct, Lucienne."

"Will you be requiring anything else from me, my lord?"

"Not at present."

"Very well," Lucienne replies with a warm smile. "I will return to the palace now."

She does a little incline of the head in deference and goes to start the winding walk back towards the glowing lights of the Dreaming's seat of power.

Morpheus calls to his friend.

"I thank you for your persistence in supporting me to resolve these issues. I suggest you take some extra hours to rest."

"I suggest you do the same, sir."

Though her reply is innocuous, the knowing gleam in Lucienne's brown eyes hints at an alternative interpretation, one that Morpheus cannot help but notice.

It was becoming generally well known that he was in the early stages of courtship with a dreamer, you, and there was no doubt that Lucienne was aware of how far the relationship with you had recently gone.

He raises an eyebrow in response, earning a grin from Lucienne and then he watches her walk away.

Once alone, Morpheus allows his eyes to flutter closed as he sifts through the myriad of dormant minds and tunes into the space occupied by yours. He takes a reading of your emotions, thankful to find that you are contented and have not been rendered feeling neglected by his absence.

There's a faint undercurrent lingering below the surface level of your emotions that he is also able to lock on to given the familiarity that you share.

Desire.

They are present, filling you with neediness and longing.

A longing to be touched, to be touched by him.

Morpheus is with you in seconds, appearing in the doorway of the room you have chosen to conceal yourself in.

You are curled up in a large armchair by a panoramic window that frames the mountainous vista beyond. The torches that mark equidistant points along the bridge leading to the palace project a soft gleaming warmth over your skin. You are gazing softly at the landscape, the fingertips of one hand combing through your hair, the others trailing up and down your inner thigh.

Such an innocent yet provocative display. It makes Morpheus' voice drop to an even deeper and more sultry register than usual as he calls to you.

You are out of the chair instantly, meeting him at the threshold of the room. Your heart pumps out an allegro drum beat, the sound of the blood rushing in your ears like a waterfall.

You are pulled into a searing kiss, arms encircle your waist to ensure you are flush against his hips and chest. It is a relief that he is holding you in such a way for your knees are threatening to give out within seconds.

The power he has, in his body, his actions, through his words, in a metaphysical sense; you are helpless against them all.

When Morpheus pulls away from the kiss, you follow him on instinct, aching for more. He smiles faintly at your eagerness but maintains the gap in order to explain his length of absence.

"I must apologise, Y/N. The issue was a little more complex than Lucienne and I had anticipated."

He's looking down with a tint of shame in his aquamarine eyes.

You slide your hands up his forearms, gripping tightly and angling your head so you can capture his gaze.

"There is nothing to be sorry for. Your work and the safety of your dreamers take priority."

He simply nods. Your unwavering understanding is always on the side of overwhelming for him.

You register this in his stance.

"You feel a little tense. I can help with that if you want. Like I did last night?"

You move a hand up to stroke the hair on the back of his head. It is a form of touch that never fails to release tension.

Morpheus indulges in your attentions for a bit, leaning into you and sighing deeply, before staring at you directly with sudden seriousness.

"I cannot deny that what you did for me yesterday was beyond exquisite," He leans in to speak by your ear. "But it is my turn to worship you."

"Oh," you swallow down your surprise. "Okay."

Morpheus wastes no time in guiding you back towards the armchair and sits you on the very edge of the seat pad.

He carefully removes his long sweeping coat and then drops to his knees before you.

His rosy lips are parted, eyes dark pools, both standing out against his beautifully pale skin.

"Where can I touch you?" He asks urgently.

"Everywhere," you reply as the flutterings in your stomach warble your voice.

He begins by trailing his hands up your legs. The patterns he draws are intricate and intoxicating.

"May I have the honour of tasting you?"

"Yes," you consent, breathless already.

You remove your trousers and underwear in the same movement and allow Morpheus to adjust your position.

The image of him looking up at you with lust and intent as he parts your legs is immediately imprinted deep within your memories.

He trails innocent kisses up your left calf to your knee. A long-fingered hand is hooked under it and once Morpheus slips your leg over his shoulder, he continues his path along your inner thigh.

Wisps of his midnight hair tickle your skin and make you squirm in the most delicious way. You whimper when you feel his cool breath hit your pulsing core.

Morpheus speaks your name reverently, a taster of what was about to come.

He leans in the last few inches and kisses your vulva. You melt with an ecstasy-filled exhale. His tongue gently licks at your labia, encouraging them to part and expose your clit. He laps at you with precise strokes before sealing his mouth over the nub.

It's like a direct current has been shot into your body; you jolt into him, moaning his name with abandon.

He hums against you, lips curling into a naughty smirk. You are completely at his mercy and he knows it all too well.

He manipulates your clit between his plush lips and the pleasure reaches a higher ground.

"Whatever you do, please don't stop," you beg.

Morpheus obeys, slowly increasing and decreasing the pressure of his suckling until you are almost unable to think clearly anymore.

Then, suddenly, you are distracted by a strange feeling radiating through your body. You recognise it with immediacy. It's like you are being dragged upwards by a marionette string. You are waking up.

You stiffen, falling silent, hoping above all hope that if you stay still, you can stave off the pull back to consciousness.

Morpheus, noticing your change in demeanour, stops his attentions and pulls away.

He speaks your name in a caring tone, "Are you alright?"

You grab the arm rests in a further attempt to keep yourself in the Dreaming. The sensation isn't letting up.

You respond with haste, "I think I'm waking up. I don't think I can stop it."

Waking had been the cause of cutting short your time with Morpheus many times before. It was to be expected; you were a human being with things like sunlight and birdsong and routines to contend with. The worst had been mid-way through a conversation, one that you were able to pick up again the next time you passed the Dreaming threshold.

Right here while Morpheus was working on you so perfectly, however left you with one thought: Why did it have to be now?

Your surroundings flicker and all sound becomes warped. The support of Morpheus' body and the chair vanish.

"I'm sorry." They are the last words you speak before you disappear.

You come to in the semi-darkness of your bedroom. Your chest is heaving and wetness has spilled onto your pyjamas from the dream of Morpheus lavishing your aroused core.

Your phone is blasting out a morning alarm, its shrillness the clear root of you disappearing on him.

It turns out though, initially unknown to you, that Morpheus was having none of this separation business. That is until you notice him sitting between your splayed legs.

"Morpheus?! What are you -"

"You asked me not to stop, my dearest dreamer," he interrupts, pouring every ounce of seductive energy into the words as he can muster.

Morpheus' eyes bore into yours as he climbs up to fully straddle your body. He reaches over you to turn off the alarm with a precise tap on the screen of your phone. He takes a deep breath.

"Much better," he purrs. The pitch of his voice is pleasure enough on its own, even without the fact that his hips are subtly grinding against yours.

"Now, would you like to resume with what we were doing before we were so rudely interrupted by that repugnant tone?"

You nod.

"Verbal consent, please."

It's suddenly so hard to speak now he is in your bedroom, your domain. You hope that a clear display will be an acceptable alternative. You reach your hands down to rid yourself of your pyjamas only to have each wrist pinned either side of your head.

You gasp.

"I need to hear you say it out loud, Y/N."

Another wave of hot, stifling arousal is released between your legs. You shiver in reaction to it, to his dominance.

Your mouth is open but no coherent words leave it, just the starts of failed sentences. Morpheus comes to your aid:

"Will you allow me to taste you here, in the waking world, just as I did in my own realm?"

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes, Morpheus. Please. Put your mouth on me."

He hums his approval before lowering your shorts and beginning to feast on you once more.

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Tag List: @herfantasyworldd @shadowqueen1318

[starhvney]

Could I get a coffee with cream and a side of sugar cookies (with the family being more so with kids/family life) with a bagel please with the character Travis in the mystreet universe

(I don’t know if I did this right-)

𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟖: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫!!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: established relationship, fluff, domestic/family at home

𝐚/𝐧: for sure!! this was a cute one hehe

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

A smirk tugs at your lips as obvious giggles come from behind the living room curtains. Two pairs of feet stick out from either end of the window, your children’s hiding spots ridiculously amateur despite how long they’d been playing the game today. You shake your head from where you rested on the chair, cheek smushed into your hand as you continue to listen to their adorable hushed whispers.

One might wonder why they were so obvious with their locations, though when Travis marches in the doorway, you have an inkling of why they didn’t try harder as their little feet get ready to run at a moment's notice.

“Oh, hello lovely wife,” he grins, setting his hands on his hips as he walks right up to the window, turning his back to your kids and wagging his eyebrows at you knowingly. “Have you happened to see two little munchkins wreaking havoc around here?”

“Hm… I can’t say I have…” you trail your words off, a funny smile spreading on your own lips.

The small giggles are stifled as you both grow quiet for a moment; and he lets the suspense build with a mirthful look twinkling in his eyes. Slowly, he turns around, before pushing away the curtains with a loud, playful “Rah!”, startling your son and daughter to scream. They immediately take off, little feet thudding as they make their escape to the hallway as Travis chases after them—maniacal laughter following their screeches of joy at the game of tag.

You raise an eyebrow when the loud shouting stops, holding your breath as you try to overhear what was happening deeper in the house. Suddenly, your husband’s previous laughter turns into playful shouts of fear while your children are the ones laughing evilly, their collective footsteps approaching the living room again.

Your son shoots a nerf gun dart at the back of Travis’s head, the shot landing just as he runs around your chair. With a dramatic gasp, he falls down onto the rug, sprawling his limbs out by his sides and going limp with a dramatic groan of “death”.

The children pause when he doesn’t move after, the theatrical man selling the part of being taken out by the oh so lethal styrofoam bullet.

“…Daddy?” Your daughter calls, being the first brave soul to step forward to the dormant volcano.

It was so amusing to you how the children anticipated his reaction, when he’d repeat this same act with them every single time. Still, a startled shout leaves her lips when he flips around, pulling her down into his trap and exaggeratively pretending to eat her like a monster.

“No! Let her go!” Your son heroically dives forward, seeming to forget the nerf gun in his hands as he goes to wrestle her from Travis’s clutches, only to get swallowed by the beast as Travis snatches him down as well.

With one child tucked in each arm, your goofy husband springs up into the air, spinning them around as they kick and squirm with elated giggles.

“Mommy! Save us!”

“Help!!”

You finally stand up from your spot, putting a hand on your hip and pointing at him with the other as you approach the scene. “Unhand them!”

“Never!” He cackles, holding onto the little ones tighter as he dashes down the hall into the bedroom with you in tow.

With a soft thud and a harmony of giggles, all four of you end up flopping onto the mattress, ending the final act of Travis’s favorite play. As the kids are busy rolling around on the duvet, he not-so-sneakily leans in, pressing a soft and lingering kiss on your lips. Pulling away, his bright green eyes drift across your face, an unspeakable gratefulness in them.

“They just swapped cooties!”

“Ew!”

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

taglist: @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @valentique @arienic @dazedbydeath @theaquaticplant @starsbrightly @kalegrinch @izzybella1807 @marst4rz @vyladsgirl @allieyaaa

[wileys-russo]

whenever you have the time i would love some more katie blurbs 🫶🏻 she’s just like an annoying little gf but also she’s the biggest lover girl ever ( off the pitch;) )

the type to roast you and then boost your ego so high it’s seeing stars, who dumps her laundry on you but then its like “if you even try to fold that for me i’ll hurt you”

lovergirl II k.mccabe x reader

"babe? i'm back." you yelled out as you shouldered the door open, hands full of groceries as you heard footsteps hurry downstairs. "oi i told you to text me when you were out the front!" katie rolled her eyes, pecking you on the lips as she hurried to grab the bags from you.

"is there more?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, moving herself to block you from leaving the kitchen. "yes and i am more than capable of grabbing them. just-" but you were speaking to an empty room as katie sprinted out the front door and to your car.

shaking your head with a smile of amusement you started to pack things away, hearing your car lock and katie hurry back inside, arms laden with bags which she dumped on the counter.

"katie!" you laughed suddenly as the irishwomans tanned and toned arms wrapped around you, pulling you away from the fridge. "what are you-" she cut you off with a kiss, gently pushing you to sit down at the island bench.

"you just sit here and look beautiful. i'll put everything away! nice little show for ya." the girl grinned cheekily, stealing another kiss and darting around the kitchen putting the shopping away. "your bum looks good in those shorts." you smiled, resting your chin on your hand.

"i know." the taller girl winked as you rolled your eyes at the blatant cockiness which was nothing new to you. "nope!" you whine as she snatches your phone from your hand the moment it leaves your pocket, slipping it into her own as your eyes bore into hers.

"give it." you held your hand out, the irishwoman only high fiving you with another wink, turning to continue putting away the last few things you'd bought. "oh stop your poutin. you don't need it!" katie grinned, suddenly appearing beside you and spinning you around in your chair, standing in between your legs.

"i do actually, you're quite boring." you smiled smugly at how her confidence faltered for a minute, hands laying dormant on your knees. "oh is that so?" she pulled away, grabbing your phone out as you frowned.

"what are you doing?" "calling your ma and inviting her over for dinner, since i'm so boring i figure you'll want some lively company."

"katie no!" your eyes widened as you jumped off your seat and charged at her, you loved your mum dearly but she was easily one of the most infuriating people you'd ever known.

the woman had next to no boundaries and no ability to respect anyone else's, especially yours, even going as far as to always ask about if your sex life was healthy and make suggestions of how to spice it up which amused your girlfriend to no end.

"i'm just trying to give you a nice eventful night darlin, since i'm so boring." the older girl smirked, pausing for a moment to lift your phone to her ear and your eyes widened hearing the dial tone start to ring.

"katie alison mccabe i swear to god-" you launched yourself over the back of the sofa, jumping on her and wrapping an arm around her neck as you struggled to stay on.

"catherine? oh hi its katie! ya alright?" the brunette started, grunting as you squeezed your arm tighter around her neck, her own spare arm stretching around her back and trying to push you off.

"hang up right now!" you ordered firmly, still fighting to cling on and desperately trying to wrench your phone from her ear. "how have i been? oh i've been grand thanks! and you?" she continued with a slight wheeze as you attempted to choke her out.

giving up on trying to throw you off she switched tactics and fell backwards onto the sofa, her body now laying on top of yours and keeping you somewhat pinned down as you thrashed and swore at her.

"oh that? that's nothing, we're just doing some light boxing at training and the girls can get carried away sometimes." katie pressed herself more into you as your fingers finally wrapped around your phone, her hand gripping your bicep so you couldn't pull it away from her ear.

"hang up!" you demanded again, headbutting the back of her shoulder several times making her laugh. "i'm not even on the phone, dickhead." she showed you the screen and that she'd dialed herself which had of course rang out.

"get off me you stupid stubborn-" you started to rant, cut off by her hand coming down over your mouth. "bold of you to assume my hands are clean baby." the taller girl grinned as you licked her hand in an attempt to get her to remove it.

wrenching it away you kicked her off of you and hastily stood, dragged back down immediately as she moved herself on top of you. "get off!" you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring upward at her.

"no, you're actually quite comfortable." your girlfriend teased, settling her full body weight on top of you as you smacked her shoulders.

"throw me off then, you're always going on and on about how strong ya are. with these pathetic little noodles!" she tutted, squeezing your arms as you scoffed and tried to shove her off but it was to no use as the brunette yawned and faked checking her watch as if bored by your attempts.

"katie!" you whined, going limp and giving up with a sigh, arm coming to rest across your face. "yes?" she sang out, holding herself up with her hands either side of your head. "you're so irritating." you mumbled into your arm, her face hovering just above yours.

"god you're so sweet to me, what a lucky woman i am." she gasped with a sarcastic smile, pushing your arm away from your face and pressing her forehead against yours. "hi." she smiled, eyes milimetres from your own as you sighed. "hi."

"i love you." she grinned, pecking your lips sweetly. "thats nice." you watched as her smile quickly turned into a frown. "oi say it back!" "okay, i love me too." "you cheeky fuckin-" you cut her off with a proper kiss, arms wrapping around her neck as her body settled comfortably on top of yours, your lips melding together perfectly.

"we have more chores to do lover." you pulled away, smacking at her bum with your hands and tapping her shoulders for her to sit up.

"no i told you i would do them! you ran your arse off yesterday and netted the banger which won us the match." katie rolled off of you as the two of you sat up, her calloused hands pushing you back down as she stood.

"my superstar you're not lifting a finger. rest those gloriously sexy legs please, you're lucky i even let ya go and do the shopping." she complimented, grinning happily as your cheeks blushed red at her words.

"put somethin on, one of your stupid love in the dark secret island or whatever rubbish thats called." she tossed you the remote, bending down to feverishly kiss you, pulling away far sooner than you'd have liked, shoving your head to the side playfully as she left.

"its called love island!" you shouted after her. "don't care!" she yelled back from the laundry.

but you knew she did, every time she would make a show of kicking in her heels and begging not to watch it. then once she'd given in with a dramatic sigh and made herself the unsung selfless hero who was sacrificing a night of quality television programming for some mindless reality rubbish, she'd cuddle up with you and ten minutes in was asking endless questions, interest fully peaked and completely engrossed much to your amusement.

"babe!" you yelled out as a basketful of clean washing was dumped on top of you from behind, yanking off a pair of your girlfriends boxers from your head and glaring at her.

"you fold a single thing and i'll break your hands woman." the brunette warned, darting back to the laundry and returning with another basket.

"don't you-" but it was too late as yet again the still warm clothing buried you, katie peeling off a hoodie to reveal your scowl as she took a seat on the lounge beside you.

you rolled your eyes and continued to pull off the clothing which had rained down on you. "no! i said i'll do it." your girlfriend suddenly smacked your thigh as you whined and kicked out at her.

"what do you expect me to just sit here with your underwear on my head, buried in your kits with a mountain of odd socks in my lap?" you scoffed in disbelief at the request.

"yes. like my own little laundry tree!" katie teased, moving to quickly remove and place everything back in the basket at her feet. "every day i start to question more and more why im so in love with you." you sighed, gaze returning to the tv as your girlfriends laugh echoed around the room.

"cause you enjoy staring at my bum when i walk round the house in my sexy little shorts, doing all the housework like a good loyal house wife." katie grinned, slowly moving herself closer to you as you shook your head.

"what's that make me then?" you questioned, lips tugging into a smile as your girlfriend grabbed your hands and pulled you to sit on her lap.

"my trophy wife of course. i get to show you off what with your gorgeous eyes, tecchy little football skills and crackin personality, and call you mine, which makes me the real winner." she smiled softly, again causing your cheeks to heat up at the compliments.

"no ring, no wife." you quickly clipped back holding up your empty hand. "not yet, maybe if you're patient." katie smirked, hand on the back of your neck as she pulled you into a bruising kiss.

though she shoved you off before things became too passionate, brushing your complaints off with a reminder she had laundry to fold making you roll your eyes as how quickly she could switch between being charming and insufferable.

"so...whose coupled up this week then? fill me in."