#BUT SHE WOULD LOVE A CHANCE AT EATING SNAKE MEAT

[camifornilla]

My friends either haven’t read the Apothecary Diaries Light Novels or have and aren’t online and I need to cry about the Doomed Yuri narrative in Vol. 4

[the-trinket-witch]

Hello! Long time no see, skele-pal! I need to know No. 17 for all-

ask meme here: (Also HOI HOI!!! You get to meet The Cook and Mr Khan too, now!)

What is the weirdest thing your oc regularly eats? (I'm changing it a little by adding 'the oddest thing your OC has ever eaten')

Albert:

Being from Altus, RQ, he's had exposure in trying things like Pie and Mash (which so happens to have eel in/accompanying it). It isn't often, but he does still enjoy the dish on occasion. As well, He's tried Chicharrón de pulpo. This was only on accident, though, as it was in the weeks following Azul's attempts to take the Dorm from them. Yuu had learned how to 'Passive aggressively' cook things like the aforementioned octo-chicharrón to pointedly bring to lunch. Needless to say: Yuu smugly shared some with the Twins, while said Tweels got a show in the grave face Al made on the realization.

Yuu:

This is probably the weirdest that others would probably balk at but: huitlacoche, corn smut or 'mexican truffle'. They loved how their grandma could make it a big deal because of how difficult it is to get a hold of fresh. 'Canned never tastes the same, mi hijo' She would say.

Tidus:

It might be easier to count on fingers things the dude hasn't tried yet. There were a few misses, but some like okonomiyaki were a knock outta the park. Similar to how Floyd likes making odd takoyaki concoctions, Tidus loves putting different things in okonomiyaki to see what works and doesnt.

Lázaro:

He has a pretty varied palate, but the one he just couldn't get into were fluffernutters (Peanut butter/marshmallow fluff sandwiches). Something others might think 'odd' he eats on the regular though, would be menudo, only because of the tripe.

The Janitor:

They motion that while they don't have a sense of taste, they do experience temperature differences and textures. Because of that, many a non-edible thing has been chewed on, with the one of the least preferred textures being non-neutonian fluid. AKA Gak/slime/putty. They describe it as squeaky, cold and sometimes grainy.

Aadesh:

He has had a chance to try a lot of things, being the closest underling to Mr. Khan. His consistent 'irregular' favorite is beef tar-tare. The strangest thing he's tried (and didn't like) was snake wine. He only choked it down at the insistence of Mr. Khan, one evening, having to feign an absence of utter disgust.

Jon Teach:

"Ahaha! Y'can eat most anything if ye fry it in enough butter and salt! The things ye can stomach, though, when the billfold's feeling a bit light and the fishin's been rough."

Mr. Khan:

Something he enjoys on a more regular basis is shark curry. He has tried sharkfin soup and birds nest soup, but prefers the greater substance in something like curry. The 'Strangest' thing he's ever consumed isn't something he'll put in his financial books. He has a taste for more 'exotic' meat. (Read: hard to obtain due to regulations or ethical concerns)

[wicked-violets]

Silly goofy stuff about William Afton. ;)

He hates soda and most bubbly drinks. He’ll only drink ginger ale when sick. He prefers hot drinks over cold drinks. It can be 100 degrees outside and he’ll still enjoy a hot cup of herbal tea.

He is afraid of mice and rats.

He doesn’t like snakes or lizards either.

He is a light sleeper and any little noise can cause him to wake up.

He is vegetarian and will only eat meat on special occasions such as holidays and birthdays.

William hates being called “Bill” or “Billy” Just call him Will. Not “Willy” either. If you call him any of those things, he will never speak to you ever again.

He grew up loving clowns and rabbits. Hence why a lot of his animatronics are rabbits and clowns lmao

Neither William or his sister ever met their biological fathers and probably never will. Their mother never had pictures of their fathers or anything. Their mother also loved parties and unprotected sex so I meannn, they’re never gonna meet their bio dad.

When William was only ten years old, he was the one who found his sister’s body after she hung herself. His sister was not only a relative of his but she was his best friend as well. From that day on, he grew his obsession with death and immortality. This only worsened when his own children began dying off.

It took William a few years to grow any form of attachment to his son, Michael. Before that, he wouldn’t even agree to hold his infant son. For the first three years of Michael’s life, he was completely ignored by his father. Same went for Evan as well. The only child he really paid any attention to was Elizabeth. And even then, he wasn’t a very good father at all. William was neglectful.

William never wanted to be father, he never thought he would be a good father.(and I mean he was correct. He was a terrible father) But, his ex-wife on the other hand, though she could change him. Unfortunately, changing him was impossible and her children was raised only by herself and a nanny. William hired a nanny so his ex-wife wouldn’t have to raise her children alone. He had enough decency to hire a nanny for her.

William didn’t seem to love his children. He definitely didn’t act like he even liked them due to him being so neglectful. However, he did genuinely felt love towards them. And he is filled with regret with how he raised them. He was just never meant to be a father.

There’s a extremely high chance that Evan was the product of cheating. Since, William quit sleeping in the same room as ex-wife. Suspiciously, during that time she was hanging out a lot with her ex-boyfriend.

William made his ex-wife’s death look like a suicide. He never explained why or what lead to this. Perhaps she cheated on him again? Or maybe she found out about the remnant experiments and the murders? Or maybe she ran off to get pregnant again and William was just done fathering children that wasn’t even his. However, even though he grew to hate that woman, he became extremely depressed after her death. He still doesn’t know why he spent weeks crying over her or missing the sound of her voice. Perhaps he didn’t hate her after all, or maybe he was just codependent. Either way, William was absolutely miserable both when she was alive and after her death.

William’s ex-wife wasn’t the only one who wasn’t faithful. William would spend the night at Henry’s house. As you see, William and Henry was doing a lot more than sleeping. Actually throughout that toxic marriage between them, William never stopped spending time at Henry’s house.

At some point William tried to convince Henry to run away with him and they could just start new and have a family of their own. Obviously, Henry thought William was insane for saying this and gave him the silent treatment for weeks. (Even though Henry was guzzling Mr. Afton’s glizzy every weekend. This still sounded crazy to him.)

[mugiwara-communications]

Hi! Could I request headcannons for how Luffy, Zoro and Sanji would apologize to the reader after a huge fight?

Hi! And thank you for requesting!! Congrats on being my first ever request too. I hope this is enough and is as satisfying to read as it was writing it. If you want anything more, please request! 

Monster Trio X S/O: How they make up after a fight

Warning: boys being stupid, a lil bit of angst and fluff Feat: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji WC: ~510-670

Monkey D. "Strawhat" Luffy

Luffy is in no way ‘stupid’. He is, however, a little dense. He might not even know you two are fighting or are upset until way afterward. 

Most likely the reason you two are fighting is because of either an outside force (e.g. Hancock) or an inside force (e.g. because he said something.) 

Hancock won’t stop calling Luffy her future husband, despite being told over and over again by many people he is in a happy relationship with you. Luffy might not tell Hancock off, but it’s only because he loves and trusts you so much, he feels as if he doesn’t need to. You, however, might not see that in the same way. 

If you two are fighting over an outside force, there is a good chance one of the emotionally available people in the crew (Nami, Robin, Sanji, or Franky) has to sit him down and explain why you are upset at him. 

After it gets through his thick skull, Luffy will immediately go and look for you. And when he does, he’ll wrap his arms and legs around you like a snake. He’ll sob into your shoulder, beg you not to be sad or leave him and the crew, and promise over and over again the next time Hancock shows up, he’ll tell her off. He eventually will, and if Hancock doesn’t take it well, she can stuck it. 

Even after apologizing, he’ll be a little careful around you. Sanji probably told him other ways to apologize, while the girls told him to be more mindful. 

The only way he knows how to be mindful is by sharing his dinner. He’ll cut off a piece of meat for you and shove it into your mouth. Promise you, that anyone who knows Luffy knows that he would and will fight for his food. So if he’s willingly giving it to you to make you feel better, you mean something beyond everything to him. 

However. 

If it’s because he said something, you’ll have to take it directly to him. He very obviously calls things and people by what he sees, so there is a large chance he might pick something you are insecure or embarrassed about. 

Luffy won’t even understand what he said is wrong. It was just something, so why were you crying and why were his nakama looking at him like that? He’ll only realize something is wrong if you ignore him. 

Luffy has silent reactions, seeing how he reacted to Nami crying for the first time and eating Sanji’s disgusting bento. Luffy seeks you out, he’ll lean into your shoulder and wrap his arms around you. He’ll whisper into your shoulder at first, apologizing like Robin told him too. 

The next time he calls for you, it won’t be anything similar to the first thing. He might have to think about it first, but you know he’ll find the right thing to say eventually…

“This is (Y/N)! My mystery person!”

“‘Mystery person’?”

“Yeah! ‘Cuz they make me feel good things I don’t understand when I’m around them. They’re my Mystery Person! Shihihihi!” 

"Pirate Hunter" Roronoa Zoro

Perfectly in between ‘dense’ and ‘uncaring’. He is a little on the rude side naturally, so there could be a lot of reasons why you are fighting. 

For instance; you cleaned his swords for him but forgot to dry them right, you said you’d go with him during his walk to curve his ‘lost’ tendencies and embarrassed him, you spent some time with Sanji and laughed at his jokes, you said you won’t pay his debt with Nami for him. 

In this situation, it’s most likely because Sanji angered him before and Zoro is blowing up on you. After he’s done yelling at you, after you turn away and disappear, after he simmers and cools it, only then does he realizes he’s fucked up. Like to a maximum compacity. 

He doesn’t know what to do. There hasn’t been many women in his life after Kunia, he doesn’t know if he should buy you a drink and tell you to suck it up with as much feeling his meathead allows or if he should let you stew in the anger until you also cool down, that way your both can talk without being fiery little shits. 

It takes a little while for him to get you’re still pissed at him. You’ve taken to talking with Sanji more, you don’t wake him for meals as much, you’ve been dodging his kisses, and have been ignoring him sometimes. 

In the end, he goes to the only person he trusts to talk to you; Robin. She knows everything about everyone, she has to know how to make you not mad at him. But instead, Robin tells him ‘there is no wrong way for a relationship to break or mend itself through time and effort’. At first, he thinks she’s implying you will break up with him. 

He thinks about going to Nami next for advice, but she tries to charge him for both the advice and the drycleaning from you crying into her pillow. Zoro really knows he fucked up when Sanji stands next to him as he smokes. Not even fighting or looking at him, just smokes. 

Despite the two’s own relationship, the swordsman trusts the cook more than he will ever verbally admit. So when Sanji tells him to suck his masculinity up and apologize, Zoro outright asks him what he can do to make up for hurting you. Sanji thinks he’s in an alternate dimension at that point. 

If you are docked in a town for the logpose to set, Zoro will go buy you flowers. He knows it’s a cliche for apology flowers, but he was originally going to buy you a bottle of alcohol before the little shop drew him in. It takes him a while, after the shop owner explains that each flower means something, he has to choose the right one.

He gets you a large bouquet of your favorite flowers with roses, lilies, and tulips, flowers that mean love and forgiveness. 

If not docked, Zoro will end up picking some flowers from Robin’s garden. With their roots and dirt still attached, handing them to you in the galley with an audience and a bright flush on his cheeks. 

“I was an asshole. And I’m sorry.” That’s all he says. Zoro has never been a man of many words, but the words he says are enough. He can’t promise you he’ll be nicer, he can’t promise you it won’t happen again, he can only ask for forgiveness.

Pinch his cheek and tell him the two boys can have their dick measuring contests, but to leave the anger and masculinity at the door when he talks to other people. 

After handing you the flowers, the first thing he will ask for is a nap together. He won’t say it, but he’s missed you in ways that hurt his heart. 

The next time the boys fight over something stupid, take a squirt gun out and spray them with ice water, that will really cool it for them. 

"Black Leg" Vinsmoke Sanji

Unlike the other two, Sanji is someone who knows emotions. He is emotionally strong, willing to talk things out before starting an argument at all. He’d rather get to the root of the problem than let it fester. 

If, and that’s a strong ‘if’, you two are fighting or having a disagreement, there is a reason. Maybe you finally told him off for his sexism, maybe you politely helped Chopper talk to him about his chainsmoking, maybe you’ve finally told him how it feels when he flirts with the other women but he brushes it off.

Sanji will immediately realize he took it too far the second the words leave his mouth. 

“Why does it matter?”

“Because it hurts me.”

“And that matters?”

Everyone could feel it, the way the air freezing and boiling at the same time. Sanji will try to apologize and step back immediately, stuttering and biting his tongue as he watches you tear up and cry. You have the full right to slap him and run away. He’ll grab his hurt cheek with one hand, the other reaching out for you, but you just slip out of the kitchen. 

After that, everyone will same something to him at least once. From Chopper calling him a ‘big meanie’ to Robin and Nami telling him that ‘you’ve been holding back on that for forever and it was deserved’, Sanji really just soaks it in. 

He’ll try to apologize a thousand times to you. To your face, through cards, through crewmates, through food, through flowers. None of them hit the same way, always being too short of what he means. 

One morning, when you decide to face him again, Sanji will grab you by the hands and beg you to meet him for dinner. “Just once more, and if you never want me to bother you again, my dearest, I won’t even look at you out of the corner of my eyes.”

The dinner he invites you to is… it’s simple. You expected something extravagant, with Brook playing live music again or a bouquet the size of Franky again. But no. It was just you two, a simple candle-lit dinner, and the sea. 

“I said something- I’ve done something.” He stressed, “And I hurt you. I broke the one rule of a healthy relationship.”

“Don’t fuck it up?”

“I broke one of the rules of a healthy relationship.” He’ll try and joke the lighten the heavy mood. “You are important to me, and your emotions matter to me so much. There isn’t anything I can do to take back what I said, what hurt you. But if you would please let me try again, I promise to you a thousand times over I will never, never, hurt you by being stupid, ever again.” 

During dinner, Sanji will open up to you. Telling you about the life he grew up with, the one before and after Zeff. He can’t promise you he could ever stop loving women, but he promises he’ll love you more than anyone.

[brisskwinds]

Kasane Teto headcanon masterpost

[ don't tag as kin/me/etc please thank u these designs are very personal. this teto ages with me she's kinda like a sona ]

Gen infodump post for my teto design you see on my profile!! Created in late 2020 when I drew teto with more beastly chimera features and this specific design stuck with me!! I've got a decent amount of xenobiology headcanons related to her species, but as a starting post

Aside from taking on a human disguise, Teto's species is capable of flight and breathing fire. Fire breathing is moreso done as an intimidation display or to assert dominance, as their flames do not have a very far range and are moreso used as a way to signal for another to stand back.

Chimera are also obligate carnivores, but Teto likes to eat non-meat human food items anyway because it tastes good and then wonders why she gets stomach aches so often. 

Teto, as well as other chimera are capable of purring, as well as being able to growl, snarl and hiss like most big cats. Despite being able to take on a human disguise and blend in seamlessly in human society though, chimera are still instinct-driven and mimicking human behavior is a learned trait, they are very much monsters. Chimera can live for up to 100 years, but some particularly healthy ones can live up to 150. I originally had it that my teto was around 16 by human standards, but through the years I've kinda had her age with me. There are two types of chimera, venomous and nonvenomous, and they're physically identical except for their tails. Venomous chimera will have serpent tails, while nonvenomous ones will have harmless forked tails like Teto. Chimera venom is lethal to humans and small animals, but a human can survive a bite if they seek medical attention within 30-40 minutes of being bitten. All chimera are immune to their snake tail venom though, even the nonvenomous ones. If one parent is a venomous chimera and the other not, their child has a 50/50 chance of being either.

The snake tails on venomous chimera are not sentient, but are rather very intricate natural mimicry used to warn other animals to steer clear of the tail. It does shed similar to actual snakes though, but biologically it serves mainly more as a weapon than anything else.

Oh but there's more: Might as well introduce the other designs from this whole deal/au/whatever I want to call this thing

Kasane Ted- Teto's older brother. He was already a teenager when Teto was born, so he ended up raising her almost like a father than a brother. He's usually very aloof and grumpy, but fiercely protective of his little sister.

Sukone Tei- Teto's cousin. A little older than Teto, Tei was basically the rebellious older sister figure to Teto growing up. The two would often wrestle and playfight in the woods together as kids, and still enjoy wrestling each other from time to time.

Sidenote: Tei is not a yandere in this setting and doesn't know Len or any of the crypton folk. I specifically rewrote her so she’s not weird in this lmao she’s just teto’s slightly unhinged bad influence cousin

 And that's the gist of it! I think the tag for this will just be "#beast teto" so I can compile this info all in one spot! Please ask about this stuff lore wise I would absolutely love to answer I put way too much effort into this whole concept

[littlefreya]

Dirty Henry

Summary: A picnic in the rural forest turns into a steamy game of profanities as Henry decides to demonstrate how he would persuade you to be his.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (2nd person POV)

Word count: 2K

Warning: 18+, smutty smut, oral sex - female receiving, lewd, descriptive profanities that will make your ears burn,praising, outdoor sex, gentle rough sex, creampie. 

A/N: This was requested ages ago: messing around with Henry duri picnic. The dirty talk was inspired by a chat with Wendy. Beta’d by the one and only queen @agniavateira. The Mythology quotes of Apollo and Dapne are based on Wikipedia. *No permission is given of reposting, copying my work or ideas and parts from it and claiming it as your own* 

Feedback is welcome, comment and reblog if you enjoyed. 

Title: Dirty Henry

Honey-coloured leaves floated in the air, flapping tenderly like frail butterflies that danced frivolously in the wind. Lying on your back over a blanket, you watched them as you listened to the rustle of leaves and the water flowing down the small stream nearby.  

Henry’s head rested on your thigh; his smooth baritone stroked your ears in the most satisfying melody you’ve ever heard as he read to from his book.

“...Offended by Apollo’s remarks, Eros has decided to take vengeance on the god. He shot him with a golden arrow, causing him to fall intensely in love with Daphne, the fair river nymph, which he then shot with a lead arrow, imbuing her with pure hatred toward Apollo.”

A small grin peeked at the corners of your lips, your hand reaching to find the dark bundle of curls on his head and began coaxing them around your slender fingers. 

The forest smelled of evergreen mist, mushy lichen, and tranquil tree stumps that had new lifeforms growing on them. On the tip of your nose, you caught Henry’s distinguished scent. His earthy musk called you by your name.  

Henry wiggled slightly on your thigh and cleared his throat before he continued reading.

“Apollo chased the virginal nymph through the thicket, all the while declaring his undying love. When all seemed lost, Daphne cried out and begged her father, Peneus, to save her from Apollo’s unwanted courtship.”

“When a guy is so annoying that you have to turn into a tree in order to get rid of him for good,” you teased while inhaling the alluring scent of the forest.

Henry chuckled lightly, his head bobbing on your leg. He turned on his side and looked at you, his cut cheeks rose to a playful smile. “Well, perhaps all Apollo needed was a chance to show her his true affection to persuade her.”

“Oh, is that so?” you tilted your head to gaze at Henry with amusement, noticing the spark of mischief that shone in his cobalt eyes. He placed the book down on its belly and flipped onto his haunches, planting a kiss on your exposed ankle.   

“Perhaps…” he uttered, the soft pads of his fingers running up the path of your leg like tongues of silk. Your leg jolted at his touch, breaking down to the ground feebly. Henry leaned down, nudging your other leg aside, his mouth was hot and wet around your inner thigh. “...all she needed was for him to show her.”

You nibbled your lip, watching Henry’s dark curls shine between your knees in the scattered daylight. His broad back flexed, taut muscles moved in synergy as he worked through the path to your hidden garden.

“Sometimes, you just need to eat her pussy properly, and she’s yours.” he said huskily. You flushed at his profanities, your cheeks tingling as blood rushed to your head. He had a way with words; they didn’t just sound dirty; they were sin itself, and his rich British accent made even the most sacrilegious statement deeply romantic. 

Henry was well aware of your embarrassment, teasing you for your false chastity. He used his mouth in many talented ways, whispering lust against your enticing flesh to make your ears burn. 

You stared coyly, hugging your breasts like a shy lover, watching him explore you as if you were uncharted territory. 

His tongue embarked through the vale of your body, leaving a wet trail that chilled your skin in the October breeze. You threw your head back and hissed to the canopy of leaves that hid the two of you from the sky. Every touch of his fingers against your flesh set feverish ripples through your skin. Possessive hands grasped at soft the hills of your breasts and squeezed tightly while his lips marked their way below your navel.

He enjoyed this, making you feel so powerless. His deep blue eyes pierced sharply as your head went from side to side like a scared virgin, biting your knuckle as excitement blazed between your sweaty inner thighs. His greedy fingers gripped at the meat of your hips, folding your legs up and splitting them while his head dived in-between.

The soft curls of his hair tickled the naked skin of your apex. Lush and tender kisses dotted the line that led to your core. 

“Henry, please,” you begged, out of breath. His fingers stroked the shape of your womanhood, rimming the gates of your garden with the soft pads of his finger. He laid a kiss on the silk shawl of your clit and an amorous hum spilt from him, appeased at the lusciousness of your skin. 

“I love your cunt, so much.” his words slurred with sultry haze, emphasising the one word that made your muscles sear with embarrassment. You threaded your fingers through your hair and tugged at it as frustration and tension grew across your nerves. 

It was astonishing how vocal he was whilst roping simple words with sinful actions. 

He kissed your cherry, tongue lapping around it slowly before his lips suckled longingly. A deep moan vibrated through the pit of his mouth, making you mewl with blissful little jolts of pleasure. 

“Fuck,” Henry murmured as he broke from your clit and moved his lips against the sweet petals of your cunt, his hot breath caressing your succulent fruit. “I’m going to lick every inch of this marvellous pussy, and then fuck you with my tongue.” 

The air vaporised in your lungs; moans didn’t even meet their end, becoming hoarse wheezes, shuddering through the threads of your sinew. Violent tremors made your legs jitter in his grip, had he not held you forcefully they would have fallen aside. 

A low chuckle escaped him as he hooked one of your knees over his shoulder and moved a hand to manipulate your folds. His fingers unwrapped you, pulling your valley open to allow his tongue taste the nectar of your arousal.

Your entire body arched as if possessed, your spine levitating over the surface, desperate howls sent to the sky above. His tongue lingered through your seams, collecting every drop attentively. 

“Be a good girl, and I’ll shove my cock inside you.”

Speech was another one of his powers, enchanting you entirely. You whimpered as his hips bucked against yours in a desperate demand. He would never just fuck you, no, Henry loved to take his time. Foreplay would go for hours if he felt like it, playing with your body until your throat went dry and ached and your bones melted away. 

“You like it, don’t you?” he asked as he ran the snake in his mouth all the way through your swollen crease. “Me going deep inside your sweet little cunny, splitting you open, shooting my load inside you.” 

He expected no answer as you couldn’t form any, but you cried out and ripped turfs of grass in your hands instead. His large tongue sank inside your cunt, invading as deep as possible between the velvet walls. He curled it skillfully, savouring on the taste with a delightful moan. 

Pleasing you gave him just as much bliss. You were made to believe you were ambrosia which he feasted on. 

His mouth mapped your insides, knowing every spot, lavishing it on repeat while your moans increased, turning into hopeless cries. This man has read the language of your body. He knew when you were close and he knew how to prolong his torture- to make it last, to make you scream. 

And scream you did, with tears rolling down your temples, eyes squeezed shut as the stimulation became too much. He sucked on your cunt and plunged his tongue, getting you close and then far again. 

The pleasure bundled at the edge of your core, knotting your muscles from your orgasm. In despair, you squirmed, frustration making you seek for any means to breach through heaven which was just a kiss away. Waving from side to side, you pleaded, but Henry’s large hand slid onto your lower torso, pressing you down to be grounded with nothing but slight force. He limited your movement as he ate you out profoundly, his tongue singing hymns in your depth.

“Henry!” you wailed, unable to withstand his torture. His chin chafed you, his tongue squirmed between your lush lips and just when you thought you were to blackout, he thrust the tip of his into the spot that made you see stars. Your dam broke, your head lifted from the ground as ecstasy spasmed through every nerve, lighting it with an electric charge.

Untethered gasps fell from your mouth, chest heaving up and down as euphoria lingered by. Henry was impatient, his wide waist was already pushed between your spread-open thighs to fulfil his promise. The metallic clanging of his belt was sharp enough to pull you back down, followed by the giant hovering over your small frame and driving into your still-convulsing cavern, sliding in veins and ridges. 

And you felt it all.

A duet of moans played into the forest as your bodies collided. Henry ran deep, bottoming inside and clutching your jaw to the side, praising your neck and cheeks with earnest kisses and grunts that reverberated in your ears.   

“Fuck,” he groaned as he rocked above you back and forth, his thick shaft pulsated blazing-hot amidst the fight your walls put against his invasion. They never stood a chance, he was iron in velvet expanding them with every shove.

“Such a tight little pussy,” he breathed as he slipped in and out in a steady rhythm, “I’m going to come inside you, paint you with my seed.”

His hands seized your face again, his bulging biceps caging your head while he uttered words of praise entangled with obscenities. The threats of what he planned to do with your body, of how good it felt inside you made you wail in an embarrassing pleasure.

“Yes, take it. Take my cock,” he snarled breathlessly. He was heavy above and inside your body, every slam forcing your legs to jerk helplessly in the air and your behind to ache as it mashed beneath the weight of his body. You cried in ecstasy, feeling his entire length pumping in and out. Long, rasping plunges spiralled inside with tingling little tremors that danced in your essence and continued to spread further the tighter he got you. 

Feeling the tightness grow around his shaft he snapped his arms beneath your knees, spreading you wider so he could fuck you vigorously into oblivion. You screamed his name in despair, his grip making you no more than a fucktoy to which he jostled his cock into, back and forth, wet and quick.

And you loved it, you loved feeling like you’re nothing but a slit for him; your entire essence shattered, destroyed by his body, consumed by your love for him. The new position made his sac thud lewdly beneath your slit, and your clit repeatedly ground into his pubic bone. 

The merciless ordeal was too much, seeing Henry above you and herding his moans was too much.

“Henry!!! Fuck! I...”  You were broken in, sobs of pure bliss cracked through your throat as you came undone, bursting with love. Your head rolled back on the ground, and your body locked him in with zeal. Henry groaned, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as he felt the suction in you, pulling him deeper like a siren drowning a lost sailor. Your convulsing walls begged for the rich milk of his loins as he fought to delay his pleasure, but lost to the turbulence that overwhelmed him.

Shouting your name, he released himself, gasping hot against the corner of your mouth. You were stuffed full of his cum as he pulled out; he held your legs up and slid your panties back on. 

“I want it to stay,” he explained, “I want you to carry me in your panties all day long.”

He crawled to lie by your side and reached his hand to the book. His finger went into his mouth to dampen it as he turned the page over as if nothing happened.

“Next chapter, Hades and Persephone.” 

[tippedbykreider]

it’s all coming back to me | c. kreider (i)

Word Count: 8.2k Warnings: Slow burn, exes to friends to lovers, relationship breakdown, swearing, alcohol mention. Author’s Note: So many of you have been requesting for this to be brought back! The consensus was that you’d rather have it in smaller chunks so I’ll be posting each new part weekly and they’ll come in between 6 & 9k per chapter. Not only is it more manageable for you guys but it also gives me chance to keep writing new content for it 💖 There is a playlist for this fic which I posted separately, it gives a chronological feel for their relationship and their story. This has been a tonne of fun to write so far and I can’t wait to tell the rest of their story. Summary: Chris Kreider x Reader Insert. They say that all good things come to an end, that you can never have too much of a good thing, but when Chris decided to end your relationship you wondered how anything could ever be good again. A chance meeting 9 years later drags up all those feelings you both thought you were done with. Can you work through your hurt and pain to see what it is that Chris is trying to show you? Or are some things better left forgotten? Tagging: @danglesnipecelly - this girl deserves a writing credit on this thing because she’s pushed me to keep going with this and her input and advice has been invaluable. Thank you for all the support on this one, K 💖

*Italics indicates a flashback*

The notion of fresh starts is often something that is associated with the arrival of the New Year. People use the turning of the calendar to turn over a new leaf, to learn a new skill, to challenge themselves to be better than the year before and to let go of all that was and focus on all that will be. There’s something inherently magical about a new beginning, a fresh start; sometimes it’s the excitement of what might lie ahead and other times it’s the comfort in knowing that you can seize the opportunity be whoever you want to be and to reinvent yourself. It’s the line in the sand and the final full stop at the end of the chapter and it’s the anticipation of picking up the pen and writing those first few words on the new page.

For Chris Kreider this feeling wasn’t one that was brought about by the strike of the clock at midnight on New Year’s Eve because while the date on the calendar changed and while he still spent the next couple of weeks dating things with the wrong year just like everybody else, it still often felt like nothing really changed for him. Chris could only feel like the year was truly coming to an end when the first petals of spring exploded like fireworks in a symphony of technicolour blooms and he found himself giving the locker-room clearout interview. That was the end of the year, the full stop, the line and the warmer days and the balmy nights would give him the opportunity to decompress ready for the turning of the page come September when his focus would once again turn back to hockey.

Chris loved New York; that much was undeniably true. He loved the vibrancy of the city but he also loved the way that he could melt into the background or enjoy the feeling of quiet solace his apartment gave him. It was oftentimes a bolthole, an oasis of peace during an otherwise hectic few months between September and May but the end of the hockey season and the arrival of summer had him seeking the cry of gulls on the breath of a gentle breeze and that crisp, purifying sea air that always managed to fill his lungs differently. Rowayton wasn’t far, a little over an hour on a good day but with its coastal Connecticut charm, slower pace and pretty houses, especially the ones that overlooked the water, it was a world away from NYC and exactly what Chris needed to reset and recharge.

It was a Saturday morning in mid-July and for the first time in a long time, longer than Chris could recall, he allowed himself to sleep in. His bedroom window had been open all night and the welcome breeze snaked through the slats in the blinds and carried on it the faintest smell of salt and sunshine. Chris stretched his muscles in big pulls around the bed before he settled on his back and inhaled deeply, the fresh air clearing his mind and filling his body as the last remnants of sleep slipped away on the exhale of breath. Imbued with energy, he climbed out of bed and pulled the blinds all the way up, flooding the bedroom with beautiful incandescence born out of a cloudless sky. He didn’t make his bed though, not yet, because while he had left his room and was padding down the stairs, he had every intention of returning to the still warm sheets to read a chapter or two of the book on his nightstand with a fresh cup of coffee, a cinnamon and raisin bagel, that invigorating coastal air and the oceanscape outside as the soundtrack.

One chapter turned into two and two became three and before Chris knew it, the sun was high in the sky and lunchtime beckoned. It was shaping up to be a beautiful summer day in Rowayton and Chris thought it would be a crying shame to spend his time at home, even if the page-turner he’d held in his hands moments ago seemed incredibly appealing out on the back deck overlooking the water. It was then he decided to take advantage of that gorgeous sunshine, take in the scenery and stretch his legs by going for a walk into town to pick up a few essentials at Rowayton Market. For all it was a small, it contained everything he would need to keep him going for a few more days until he’d finally need to drive into Norwalk to do a more substantial grocery shop, something that he’d admittedly been putting off. The Market also had some of the best baked goods and fresh coffee in the village and if you asked Chris it would be pretty rude to not take advantage – it was right there, after all, and Chris never could say no to a still-warm Danish and Americano.

He walked slower than he usually would, a conscious effort on his part due to the fact that his legs seemed to want to go into an auto-pilot primed for life in New York City. He was in no rush though, he never was whenever he came here and even though it was a route he’d walked hundreds of times before, and one he would walk hundreds more, Chris still wanted to soak in all the pretty trees and shrubs that were nestled in amongst those classical New England style homes, all shingled exteriors and white, gridded windows in soft muted colours that mirrored the coastal landscape of the village. It was a world away from the brick and the concrete and the bright lights of the city and while Chris loved all of those things about New York and loved wandering through the streets of Tribeca and Soho, getting lost in bookstores and hole-in-the-wall cafes, he also loved the sand, shale and stars and those were things that he just couldn’t find in the city that never slept.

There were quite a few people out and about, Chris noted, most of them he recognised as being residents with their friendly smiles and waved greetings, but there were a handful of tourists too; there always was on weekends during the summer. Not that Chris minded, of course, because for all the village was a popular escape for those seeking a break from the metropolitan life of the nearby hub of cities, it never succumbed to the all-too-often inevitability of commercialisation and still managed to hold on to its peaceful charm, despite it not quite being the quaint fishing village it once was back in the days before the Civil War.

It was one of the reasons why Chris found himself retreating here in the summer and not making the trip back home to spend the off-season in Massachusetts. He would go back to Boxford for a couple of weeks, naturally, because family was something that had always been important to Chris and he would never miss an opportunity to spend time with his parents and sister, but if he had the choice between spending his entire summer being bitten to death by mosquitoes back home (his father always did say that they were the town bird, after all) or feeling the gentle kiss of the ocean breeze against his skin, there was no real contest. Rowayton would always win.

The main street through town was busier, which wasn’t exactly unexpected and if anything it only seemed to add to the charm of the village. Chris decided to head straight to the market to pick up his groceries, if only to facilitate the Danish eating in a more timely-fashion. He picked up a basket as he entered and proceeded to add only the essentials he’d need to get him through the next couple of days. He’d pay for his shopping before going to the coffee bar, because trying to pack his reusable grocery bag with a full takeout cup was a mistake he’d made once before and was sure to never repeat again.

With his groceries purchased and bags packed in such a way that the couple of bottles of wine he’d picked up wouldn’t clink together when he walked (it was three to be exact but after seeing the selection of cured meats, cheeses and olives available he thought it’d be a crime if they didn’t find their way into his basket to come home with him, and if there was cheese there had to be wine), Chris made his way to the coffee counter situated near the Market entrance.

*

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d taken a trip away without the company of anyone else but the last couple of months at work had been incredibly stressful, with projects seemingly coming out of your ears and while you knew your mother had been worried by your suggestion of taking off somewhere alone for the weekend, she also knew better than to fight you on something you’d quite clearly already set your mind to. If you were being completely honest, your plans for the first full weekend you’d had off in months would have consisted of not setting foot outside of your apartment or engaging in any kind of unnecessary conversation had you decided to stay home in Hartford, at least this way you’d be getting some fresh air and the sun on your face.

It was just shy of a two hour drive down to Rowayton, which had the dual benefit of being close enough to home that it didn’t feel like a huge trek just to get there, but also being far enough away that you would be a complete stranger in this town and could take the time to decompress and recharge while blending into the background, and the place was pretty to boot. You’d found a little studio Airbnb not too far away in South Norwalk, figuring that you’d only be using it as somewhere to sleep as you’d planned on spending as much of your time as possible being right by that ocean with the wind in your hair and the warm sun on your skin.

That’s how you’d planned on spending your Saturday afternoon, sat on the sand of Bayley Beach with a good book and a cup of coffee. It was set to be a balmy day, with temperatures sitting in the mid-eighties and the last thing you wanted to be doing in the heat was any amount of excessive walking. So with that in mind, you’d spent your morning exploring the village and taking in the sights and sounds. The gentle protest of your stomach told you it was lunchtime before you’d even taken the opportunity to glance down at your watch and a quick Google search pointed you in the direction of somewhere to get that all important cup of coffee and a small bite to eat.

Rowayton Market didn’t look like much from the outside in the sense that it was a little on the petite side, but the reviews were great and the coffee was allegedly some of the best in the village and that was good enough for you. You were greeted with the smell of freshly baked goods and ground coffee, which was welcoming enough before you even saw the bright smile of the girl behind the counter. Your eyes drifted over the selection of pastries, each one more delicious looking than the last and you knew that you were going to have a hard time choosing just one. You knew you’d have to make a decision, though, suddenly aware of the small line that had seemingly materialised right out of thin air behind you and while you were sure that these people were more accustomed to a slower pace of life, the city girl in you, who was so used to living life in the fast lane, didn’t want to keep these good people waiting while you deliberated. You’d go with your usual and that would be that.

Chris’s attention was fixed out of the large glass windows at the front of the shop, watching as people milled in the street and went about their daily business. It was something he quite often did, whether he was here or back home in New York. There was something oddly soothing about watching the world go by, he thought, and occasionally he’d catch something that would quirk his lips up into a smile, like the sight before him now of a rather large gull in the process of committing larceny against what he could only assume was an unsuspecting tourist. Their sandwich was held high above their head while their free hand attempted to shoo the bird away with little success. He chuckled quietly to himself then, not least because the gulls seemed to get more brazen with each year that passed and he was sure that one of these days he’d see someone’s lunch get snatched right out of their hand by the feathered menaces.

Chris had no reason at all to believe as he stood in that line that everything was about to change. Why would he? The day had started like any other. He’d picked up his groceries in this store more times than he could count, he’d waited in a line just like this one for his coffee and Danish and yet, in that moment, something as innocuous as a woman’s voice would bring feelings that he thought he was done with, and memories he thought had strayed out of his mind for good, flooding back to the surface. But it wasn’t just any woman’s voice, no, it wasn’t as detached and neutral as that. It was your voice; a voice he hadn’t heard in nine years and it was something as simple as a coffee order, an order that he now knew to have remained the same since the day you’d first met at Boston College all those years ago, that blew the dam wide open and every word the two of you had ever spoken, from day one to the last thing you ever said to him, came rushing back.

The sound of Chris’s voice calling your name was something you never thought you’d hear out loud again. It was a voice you’d only heard in your dreams for many years after he walked out of your life, but even that had faded beyond memory to where you weren’t a hundred percent certain that you’d be able to remember what it sounded like anymore. And yet, in the middle of a tiny supermarket in Rowayton, you heard him clear as day with his tongue rolling around the syllables of your name with the same fondness, even after all this time and it was like you’d never forgotten the sound at all.

*

Autumn was beginning to make her presence felt in Boston. The palette on campus had shifted from a spectrum of vivid greens to shades of deep russet, amber, ochre and vermillion; but even above the changing leaves, the turning of the calendar brought a slight chill to the air that had you reaching for your jacket on a morning as you left your dorm.

Today was no different. The temperature had dropped again overnight as November creeped ever closer and it was chilly enough that you had to draw your coat tighter around you as you walked across campus towards class. Your brisk pace had bought you enough time to make a stop at the coffee stand just outside of Campion where your first class of the day was being held. There was a decent selection on offer, but it wasn’t enough to sway you from ordering your usual.

You rooted around your backpack for your wallet while the barista prepared your coffee and grabbed you your cinnamon roll, unaware of the new presence to your right, before handing over the money and taking the coffee and pastry bag from the young man’s hands.

“Coffee and cinnamon roll, eh? Now that’s the breakfast of champions.”

You turned your head towards the source of the voice, lips quirking into a small smile at the sight of the stranger beside you who looked to be not much older than you were, incredibly tall and broad for his apparent age but not for his height. He was grinning at you with a fullness that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and gave him a unique kind of softness.

“My mom would disagree,” you replied with a smirk. “If she found out I was having this for breakfast she’d be in her car so fast and dragging my ass back to Hartford.”

He laughed at that, loud and bright with his head tipped back slightly before running a hand through his dark brown hair that was shorter on the sides but had the faintest hint of a curl at the longer strands on top.

“I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

“Oh, I’m definitely not telling her,” you grinned as you swung your backpack over one shoulder. “So looks like you’re sworn to secrecy.”

You studied him for a brief moment, with the way he was still grinning at you and his eyes that seemed to sparkle behind his dark lashes before your brain gently reminded you that you, in fact, had somewhere you needed to be. “Well, I hate to impose a vow of silence on you like some sort of mafia boss and then immediately split but I uh I gotta head to class.”

“No problem at all and hey, your secret is safe with me. In fact, I’ve forgotten already. What were we talking about?”

There it was again, that smile of his that made you want to stay rooted right where you were standing and look at it all day, but class beckoned and so you gave an awkward wave of your hand and a soft laugh before you turned and headed into the building behind you without another glance back. If you had you’d have seen the stranger from the coffee stand watch until you’d disappeared from view, with that smile still on his face.

This little routine of yours would continue over the course of the next few weeks. Every Tuesday morning, at around 8:45am, you’d find yourself stood at that coffee stand outside of Campion to get your coffee and cinnamon roll, and every Tuesday morning, at around 8:46am, the tall stranger would appear beside you with his kind eyes and his bright smile. You’d exchange a ‘hello’ and a friendly grin and you’d laugh more often than not too while you made pleasant small talk before you both said your goodbyes and went to your respective classes, though you would always leave first and he would watch you go until you’d disappeared into the building.

It was mid-November, now, and the campus of Boston College was firmly in autumn’s frigid grasp. The temperatures continued to drop, seemingly overnight, which had you bundled up in your hat and scarf and the trees had shed their branches of leaves, crunching underfoot with the slight frost as you made your way towards Campion. Your hands were shoved deep into your coat pockets to ward off the gnawing chill and you were looking forward to being able to warm them around your coffee cup.

You approached the stand as normal, rooting through your backpack for your wallet ready to order.

“Hey!”

You looked up, your features fixed in a state of mild confusion while you looked for the source of the voice you recognised but couldn’t quite place. It was then you saw him though, all bright eyed and bushy tailed with a medium coffee and pastry bag held up in one of his large hands as if on display. He was grinning at you and cocked his head, beckoning you over with the wordless gesture.

“Hey, yourself,” you smiled as you approached. “What’s this then?” You tilted your head slightly at the items in his hand as he offered them to you.

“Breakfast of champions.”

Your eyebrow quirked as you took the coffee from him before taking a tentative sip, smiling while the warm liquid slid down your throat.

“You got my coffee order right.”

“It wasn’t hard,” he smirked. “You order the same thing every week and if you open that little paper bag I think you’ll find a cinnamon roll in there.”

Sure enough, as you opened the bag you were greeted with the sight of a perfectly formed cinnamon roll and you couldn’t help the grin that sparked at your lips and spread the full width of your face.

“I don’t order the same thing every week.”

“You do,” he replied with a laugh. “Every Tuesday for the last 5 weeks you’ve come to this coffee stand and ordered a medium Americano with half and half and a cinnamon roll and every Tuesday for the last 5 weeks I’ve been meaning to ask you your name.”

Your face flushed warm at that, not only at his words but at the sure little smile he was giving you and the way his eyes were sparkling. In fact, now that you were really looking at him properly, you were knocked back a bit by the perpetual kindness that seemed to rest in them and you couldn’t help but notice how they really were the perfect shade of hazel, like a forest with a deep bark heart surrounded by leaves that were every shade of green. You’d been quiet a little too long though and so you took a settling sip of coffee to give you enough time to find your voice again and tell him your name.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled as he offered you his hand, which was large and warm as you shook it.

“And who should I thank for the coffee?” you asked.

His smile grew into a grin then, the kind that you’d noticed over the course of the last few weeks that made his eyes crinkle and happiness radiate from him, before simply replying:

“Chris.”

*

“Chris?”

It was as if time had stood still in that little Market in Rowayton, where your surroundings become a still-frame and there’s nothing but static in your ears. You’d often thought about what it would have been like to see him again. Those first couple of years after he’d left Boston College had you imagining all kinds of scenarios, much like the one you were in right now where you’d bump into each other in a supermarket or a pharmacy, anywhere really, but now that you were living it, seeing it, breathing it, there was nothing you could have conjured up in your imagination that would have prepared you for what it would really feel like to see him again. If you were to be completely honest, you were glad that your coffee and cinnamon roll were still on the top of the counter because you were certain that they would have fallen right out of your hands and onto the Market floor.

He abandoned his position in the line then, as if you speaking his name was a call to him, and maybe it was, on some level, but the truth and simplicity of it was that you were suspended in a state of pure disbelief and even in the short time it took for him to close the distance between you both, you were still yet to move and fix your features to something more neutral.

“Hey.”

It was a simple greeting that he gave you and logically you knew that there wasn’t really any tangible meaning behind that single word he spoke and yet there was something about the look in his eyes and the warmth in the smile he gave you.

“It’s been a while.”

“It has,” you replied, finally finding your voice. “You look, you look good.”

It wasn’t a lie either, he did look good. The tall college boy you remembered, who was just a little too slight for his height, had filled out; you could tell that just from the way the fabric of his t-shirt stretched across the broad plains of his chest and strained around his biceps, and he was no longer clean shaven, which was something that had always made him look quite baby-faced. Instead he was sporting a neatly trimmed goatee and while he had kept his hair short on the sides, just like you’d remembered it, it was longer on the top than it had been in college and the curls were sweeping in a way that reminded you of the waves just beyond the Market door. He looked older, yes, which is exactly what you would have expected in the nine years since you’d last seen him but his eyes were still exactly the same, sparkling and full of mischief , yet still soft, perhaps even softer than before on account of the faint lines around them drawn by time’s fair hand.

“So do you,” he grinned. “You cut your hair.”

“I did,” you looked down as your face flushed with warmth, unsure exactly what you were supposed to say to him.

It was something you’d thought about during those imagined scenarios where you’d magically bump into each other again and you’d thought about all of the things that you would say to him. You would tell him about how much you’d cried when he left you behind to live out his boyhood dream and how angry you were that he didn’t want you to be a part of that, how it felt like all the plans you’d ever talked about were nothing more than empty words and how hurt that had made you feel. You felt like you at least deserved that, especially given that it was never just a casual fling between you both. After all, you’d been practically inseparable for two years. You’d been inseparable ever since he’d said those three words that mean so much. But now that he was here in front of you, all those words that had swirled around in your head and in your chest like a hurricane for so long, dissipated into nothing and you found yourself clutching at straws to find something, anything, to say.

Chris could sense this though. Of course he could because he was Chris and he had always been so in tune with you and your emotions and the fact that he was still able to read you so well was both a comfort and a knife in your chest, and while he internally grimaced at the fact he was having to fall back on using small talk between you both, he felt like it was what you needed in the moment. He wouldn’t expect things to go back to how they were after all this time, he couldn’t, and so he started with something simple, something he knew you would be able give him an answer to.

“So, what brings you to sunny Rowayton?”

“I could ask you the same question,” you replied.

“Ah,” Chris grinned, trying to keep the mood light. “See I asked you first and also, I live here so therefore the ‘question answering’ responsibility falls back to you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, at both his words and the silly little expression he was wearing and despite all the years that sat between you both like a void and all of your hurt that was held within it, it all seemed to briefly melt away and in that moment it was like you were back at that little coffee stand outside of Campion.

“I didn’t realise this was an interrogation. Wait is this one of those little weird cult towns? Should I be worried?”

Chris knew by the little smirk you were wearing that you meant no malice behind your words and so he responded by sucking in air through his teeth before speaking again with one of those smiles that went all the way up to his eyes.

“Watch it, Pickle.”

Your stomach fell right into your shoes in that moment, that name he used only for you slipped from his lips like it was the easiest thing in the world for him to do, like he’d never stopped calling you it and like it hadn’t been nine years since you’d last spoke a word to one another. Chris knew all this of course and he didn’t need to rely on intuition either because he could see every emotion written all over your face.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly on the exhale of a breath. “I um.. Force of habit, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” you muttered, not quite meeting his eyes. “Although not exactly ‘habit’, it’s been how long?”

Chris winced at that, the reality of how he left things between you both slapping him in the face and he was filled with the guilt that he’d spent almost a decade pushing out of his chest and shoving into the darkest corner of his memory where he would hope it would rest undisturbed. He knew that you were angry at him for leaving things the way he did, how could you not be? After all, he was the one who had broken your heart and left you in Boston, but it was never as simple as that, even back then there was so much he should have said but that was something he wouldn’t realise until much later when it was too late to repair the damage. The thinly veiled hurt in your eyes and the way your mouth was downturned was demonstrative of that fact.

“I know,” he all but whispered. “It just-“

“It’s fine, Chris. Can we just forget about it? Please?”

He nodded, watching with a quiet kind of sadness on his features as you turned to finally pick your coffee and cinnamon roll up off the counter before he cleared his throat softly to continue speaking.

“You never did say what brought you into town.”

You took a sip of coffee to give yourself long enough to settle the thundering in your chest before answering him, because for all your heart felt like it was about to burst from all the hurt you’d managed to hide away up until now, there was also a weird sense of nostalgia that came with seeing him and hearing his voice again, and even though he’d shattered your heart completely when he decided he no longer wanted you in his life, your mother had raised you right and you knew the proper thing to do was to indulge him in a little small talk, even if for nothing more than old time’s sake.

“Just here for the weekend,” you replied. “Work has been nuts lately and I needed some time away from home.”

Chris shuffled on his feet for a moment as you spoke while his eyes darted between you and the door that would lead to the outside world and the possibility of the two of you parting once more. It was an unexpected pull that he felt in his chest at that thought, you reappearing in his life out of the blue only to slip out of it just as suddenly by doing something as simple as walking out of that supermarket back out into the wide world. For nine years he’d thought about where you were, what you were doing, if you were okay, if you were happy and with each year that passed without seeing your face or hearing your voice, he’d resigned himself to the fact that you were lost to him, drifting out there in the seas of life never to see you again. He didn’t know why you’d suddenly come back to him now, whether by some stroke of luck or twist of fate, although Chris couldn’t have cared less which one it was. All he cared about was the fact that you were here at all and it was an opportunity that he was sure he wasn’t going to waste. He didn’t even know for certain that you would want to give him any of your time after what had happened when he left Boston, but he wanted to at least give you what he should have all those years ago and that was an explanation and an opportunity for you to tell him how his actions had made you feel.

“Hey, what are you up to this afternoon?”

“Not much,” you shrugged. “I was just going to sit on Bayley Beach and enjoy the nice weather.”

“Would you mind some company? No pressure, of course, I understand if you… I understand if you’d rather not want to spend any time with me.”

You exhaled then and Chris’s shoulders visibly sagged, bracing himself for your polite refusal, but your response was not one that he was expecting and truthfully, it wasn’t one that you had expected either.

“Honestly?” you started, getting swept up in the nostalgia of seeing him again before the rational part of your brain could catch up. “That would be nice.”

“Great,” he smiled in what you could see was pure relief. “Do you mind if I grab a coffee before we head out?”

“Sure,” you replied. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

You headed out the door and were sure to stand where Chris could see you, knowing him well enough to realise that he’d be worrying, at least on some level, that you’d slip off into the crowd. You’d never do that to him, of course, even after everything, because while he had broken your heart, he was also the first person you’d ever truly loved and when you’d put the pieces back together, you couldn’t help but keep a part of him wrapped up amongst the tape and string holding those pieces together while you healed. It was in doing that that you understood that he would always have a special place in your heart and honestly? You were kind of okay with that because while the ending hadn’t exactly been perfect, the two years you’d spent together were and you wouldn’t have changed that time for anything.

*

You weren’t sure what exactly had possessed you to let Chris talk you into venturing off campus and out in the early-February snow to get burgers at Eagle’s Deli but you were cursing those sparkling eyes and that roguish grin of his for wearing down your sensibilities as you righted yourself after what felt like the hundredth near-fall. It was slushy underfoot, the kind that’s a twisted ankle or sprained knee waiting to happen and while you’d dressed weather appropriately in your winter boots and heavy parka, you were still very newborn lamb-like in your movements which was amusing Chris to no end.

“Come on, slowpoke,” he called from up ahead as he grinned at you over his shoulder.

“Not all of us can be hockey prodigies and thrive in this kind of inclement weather,” you grumbled, shuffling slowly so as not to slip.

Chris laughed as he came back towards you with confident and purposeful steps, surprising you when he offered his arm for you to loop yours through.

“Now, I’m no expert in geography or meteorology but it snows in Hartford, no?”

He was grinning at you, the kind of grin that you had to fight with every fibre of your being not to reciprocate because you’d already committed to your grumpy act and you couldn’t have him thinking he’d cracked you already, even if he, in fact, had.

“Yes,” you stressed. “But I don’t make a habit of going out in it to get burgers like a crazy person.”

The cackle you received from him in reply was loud and a little wild and you couldn’t help but be completely captivated by the way his cheeks were ruddy from the cold and the snowflakes clinging to the curls on top of his head and long eyelashes. Tuesday morning coffees with him outside of Campion before class had turned into coffees in actual cafes during free periods and getting lunch together. It was even dragging your body out into the cold to the Alumni Stadium with your blanket and your thermos to watch Chris play with the BC Eagles because you couldn’t say no to that damn smile and those damn eyes and even now, as you looked at him taking in the scenery along the Chestnut Hill Reservoir pathway, you knew that they were going to be the death of you.

“It’s really pretty along here,” he spoke, more quietly than before; softer too. “You wouldn’t think we were in the middle of Boston.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice walk,” you agreed before shooting him a smirk and a look. “Would be nice in the spring sunshine too.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it, Little Miss Chilly.”

“I don’t know what you have against being warm, Kreider. Warm is good, warm is nice-“

You shrieked as your feet went out from under you, courtesy of a patch of black ice hidden under slushy snow and you squeezed your eyes shut in preparation for the impact of your ass hitting the cold, hard ground. But it never came.

“It’s okay,” Chris spoke reassuringly, one hand tight around your bicep while his other arm was curled around your waist, holding you upright. “I’ve got you.”

You opened your eyes then to be met with Chris’s looking right at you, all moss and bark and warm. He was smiling at you but it was different to the easy grin he usually wore around you, this was softer somehow and all rational thought was replaced by one of those monkeys playing the cymbals. For the briefest of seconds, and for reasons completely unknown to you, the monkey tried to take the wheel and the idea of kissing him right there, in the middle of the pathway that had made an attempt on your life, flashed into your head.

Maybe it was the snow and how perfect and picturesque the scene around you felt? Maybe it was the fact he’d just saved you from slipping? But the reality of it was that those eyes and that smile held some sort of power over you that you couldn’t yet fully understand. You shook your head quickly, if only to take back control of the situation before you did something more embarrassing than almost falling on your ass.

“Thanks,” you muttered as you regained your composure. “This damn pathway.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Chris grinned as he turned so his back was to you and stooped slightly. “Hop on.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“I never joke about piggy-backs,” he replied in a faux solemn tone with the face to match. “Come on, we’ll get you to the Deli in one piece one way or another.”

And that was how you ended up with your arms looped around Chris’s shoulders and his strong hands holding the backs of your legs as he carried you on his back to Eagle’s Deli.

Not twenty minutes later, the pair of you were shuffling into a booth as you shed your coats, gloves and scarves, Chris grinning at you while you blew on your fingers in an attempt to restore warmth into them.

“See, told you I’d get you here in one piece.”

You scoffed at him and shot a playful glance across the table separating you both.

“You’re not human, that is the only explanation for how you’re able to walk in that,” you nodded towards the window where the snow was still falling to illustrate your point before continuing, “and not fall flat on your face.”

“Or my ass,” he added with a grin.

“Hey, that never actually happened!”

Chris’s face split into an even bigger smile at your little protest and the pout that had formed on your lips and while the gentle teasing between you was simply a part of the dynamic of your friendship, Chris would have been lying if he didn’t admit that the reason he did it so often was because you always looked so adorable trying to rebut him.

“No, you’re right. It didn’t,” he mused with a smirk, not needing to remind you that it was him who had come to your rescue judging from the unimpressed look you were throwing his way.

“All I’m saying is that we could’ve just gone to Hillside for lunch.”

“But the burgers here are superior,” he countered, smiling at you. “And you got to enjoy a beautiful walk in the snow with me so who’s the real winner he- mmpf!”

Chris was cut off by your damp mitten hitting his face, brows knitting into a slight frown before laughing at the proud grin you wore at the accuracy of your throw.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he said with mock hurt.

“Maybe I’m not a very nice person.”

“I don’t believe that for one second,” he replied, but there was no teasing in his tone this time, only the kind of sincerity that had your face flushing warm and had you reaching for the menu to hide behind under the pretence of looking at the choices available.

He couldn’t help but smile at the awkwardness with which you were trying and failing to hide from him but soon joined you in picking up a menu and perusing it, despite already knowing what he was going to order.

It was a few moments before the waitress came over and while neither of you spoke the silence between you both wasn’t exactly awkward even though Chris knew there was something about his last words that had had some kind of effect on you. He was right, of course, because despite the fact that you’d had hold of this menu for a good couple of minutes already, you hadn’t actually looked at a single thing on it even though you’d made such a show of doing just that and now that Chris had ordered, a cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate milkshake, the waitress was looking at you expectantly. Unable to form any kind of rational thought under that kind of pressure, you found yourself simply saying “same” and soon enough it was just you and Chris at the table once more.

Chris was looking at you like he had something he wanted to say and the unreadable expression on his face had you feeling somewhat uneasy for reasons you hadn’t quite ascertained but probably understood on some level if you let yourself think about it for more than a second. He could feel the nervous energy radiating from you though and so rather than pursue his current train of thought, he picked a topic of conversation that was much safer and knew you’d be comfortable with: school.

You talked about your classes and upcoming assignments while he listened intently and you returned the favour while he spoke earnestly about hockey and his own academic workload. It was so easy to settle into a natural rhythm with Chris whenever you talked, as if you’d been having conversations like these for years when in fact it had only been a few months of knowing him and a few weeks of meeting up like this. None of that seemed to really matter though, not when the conversation was good and the chemistry felt right and especially not when it was clear that you were both on the same page when it came to your friendship. There was something else there though, something that was beyond being purely platonic, that much was becoming crystal clear and yet despite the ease in which it was to talk to him about literally anything else, there was something that had you stumbling over the thought of bringing it up.

You were saved from falling down that particular rabbit hole by the reappearance of the waitress, two burgers that were big enough to have your eyes popping out of your head in her hands. Chris chuckled from behind his milkshake at the look of disbelief on your face as your burger was set down in front of you before he reached for the bottle of ketchup between you both. You took the top of your burger bun off, nose immediately wrinkling at the sight of four pickle slices resting on top of the lettuce and tomato.

“Ugh, I forgot to ask for no pickles.”

Chris looked up from where he was squirting ketchup onto his bun, his eyes meeting yours briefly as his face split into a grin.

“You’re not one of those people, are you?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled as you began to pick the offensive green menaces off your food and set them at the edge of your plate. “I like what I like.”

Chris reached across and began to transfer the pickles from your plate to his burger, smiling widely at you as he did so.

“Well, I might have found a solution to this particular pickle you find yourself in,” he chuckled at the exaggerated groan and roll of your eyes at the expense of his joke. “You see, I love pickles.”

“You love anything,” you countered. “You’re like a human dumpster.”

“Hurtful,” he replied as he clutched at his chest. “But also true so I’ll allow it.”

You picked up a fry from your plate and threw it at him, immediately filled with equal parts surprise and a strange sense of awe as he reflexively moved and caught it in his mouth.

“You really are a dumpster,” you grinned as you shook your head at the proud little smile he was giving you.

“I am, so how about you don’t ask for no pickles on your burgers and you just give ‘em to me instead?”

It was easy to agree to his proposal, not least because his logic actually made a lot of sense when you thought about it, but mostly because of the way his eyes were sparkling and the way his smile made you feel warm all over, like the falling snow and freezing air outside didn’t exist, like your fingers and toes hadn’t been numbed by the biting cold during your walk here, like there had only ever been sunshine. It was also why you’d agreed to let him carry you back through the snow to your dorm, his large hands hooked around the backs of your thighs and your arms draped over his shoulders much like during the walk to the diner. You’d protested initially, of course, not wanting to burden Chris or put you both at risk of an injury due to the slippery conditions, but he wasn’t about to be convinced otherwise and remained unperturbed by the weather, gently reminding you that he had in fact got you to the diner in one piece in the first instance at your objections.

Truthfully, despite the mild embarrassment you felt at your complete ineptitude when it came to walking on ice, you couldn’t help but be more than a little impressed at Chris’s sheer strength. You wondered then, about how hard he must work in the gym to develop such a strong core because while you knew from first-hand experience how slippery it was underfoot, he didn’t falter once throughout the entire walk home and with the way he was talking amiably about his favourite places in the city he called home, and how his hands were holding your legs so surely and securely, you felt safe as houses with your chest pressed into his back – even with your thick coats and layers of winter clothing between you.

He walked with you on his back right up to the entrance of your dorm, setting you down carefully on the pathway that looked to have been newly shovelled before he turned to face you, his cheeks once again ruddy from the cold and your walk home.

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ twice in one day,” he grinned, sucking air in through his teeth and shaking his head slightly. “But didn’t I say that I’d get you home safely?”

“So what if you were right twice?” you rebutted with a playful nudge. “It’s not like it’s ever gonna happen again.”

“Watch it, Pickle. I’ll have you know that I’m right about a lot of things.”

“Pickle?” you barked out a laugh, watching as Chris walked slowly backwards down the path away from you with that smile still on his face. “What kind of a name is that? I don’t even like pickles.”

“I know,” he called out into the growing distance between you both. “But I do, remember?”

You shook your head at him, chuckling to yourself with a smile on your lips that mirrored his as you watched him.

“See ya Tuesday then, Trash Can!” you hollered.

His raucous cackle cut through the silent flurry as he continued to walk slowly backwards, his grin clear as day even through the falling snowflakes.

“Trash Can! Fucking, Trash Can! Man, you got some serious chirps, Pickle. Can you throw hands too? I mean, I know you suck at keeping your balance on the ice but we could use an enforcer! I could push you around?”

“Anytime, anywhere!” you laughed, watching him with a grin until he had waved his goodbye and turned away before he retreated into the heavy snow.

Part ii

[whenimaunicorn]

Playing House - Part 12

“I got the high score on your game, and now, I’m going to get the high score on your girl.”

Hvitserk x f!Reader, Ubbe x f!Reader Words: 6336

It’s here, the frat bro pornfest! No new warnings for this installment, we’ve got the standard rough sex, D/s dynamics, and gratuitous use of “dude” and “bro.” Also the disaster above the text is what you get when I make my own covers.

Catch up:  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

“Like,” you furrow your brow, trying to catch up, “with a stopwatch?”

“Yeah,” Ubbe answers. “You squeeze me when you’re starting to come, and I’ll hit the button. Then I turn it off when you can breathe again.”

You lick your lips. “And whoever can give me the longest orgasm is the winner?”

“Oh yeah.” Hvitserk squeezes your thighs, making you jump just a little as his fingers press into the bottom of your bruising ass.

“That’s ridiculous,” you say, but you don’t sound like you mean it.

His fingertips slide deeper under the edge of your shorts, playing with the flesh left tender by Ubbe’s spanking. “Hey, if you don’t want to play my nice game, I can try one of your mean ones . . .”

“I didn’t say that,” you rush to correct, although it certainly turns you on even more when Hvitserk digs his fingers right into your sore cheeks, until you writhe and hiss above him. “Who starts?”

Hvitserk switches back to nice touches, palming your ass in hearty handfuls. His brow cocks, and he turns to Ubbe. “Home field advantage, bro. You go first.”

Ubbe reaches around your shoulders and, with a playful growl, pulls you bodily off his brother. He tucks your back in against his front, so you’re still facing Hvitserk, now seated on the center cushion of the couch between them. Ubbe’s hands come up around your body, curling possessively over your breasts as he mouths at your neck just below your ear. Home field advantage, indeed. He already knows exactly what you like, and you feel like you’re already halfway there just from all the lust pervading the room.

Ubbe pops the clasp of your bra, freeing your tits for Hvitserk’s eyes. And his own hands. After he tosses your bra he’s scooping them up from underneath, presenting them toward his brother, squeezing and teasing your nipples rather than covering them up until Hvitserk looks like he might start drooling from the show.

“I thought we decided I’d get top half first,” he finally says, leaning in toward you.

“Just warming her up,” Ubbe purrs against your neck, then releases your breasts and pushes you softly forward. “Here you go.”

Hvitserk catches you in a kiss as you lean into him, deceptively sweet before he palms both your breasts. Ubbe’s fingers tickle at the backs of your thighs, and then he’s stripping you, pushing shorts and panties together down your hips. So much for showing off that matching set. You get up on your hands and knees to help it happen.

Naked between both of them now. You have to stop kissing Hvitserk to let Ubbe get you into the position he wants from you. Hvitserk keeps helping himself to your tits as you end up with your back propped up against him, the rest of your body laying along the couch so Ubbe can get his face in between your legs.

You’ve said it before; Ubbe loves eating pussy. You’ve never had it so good from anyone. Unless Hvitserk has acquired some sort of unfathomable, god-like secrets of the female body, you don’t know how he’s going to possibly outdo his older brother. Ubbe already knows exactly what you like. He kisses along your body before nestling between your thighs, then opens you up boldly with his tongue. He closes in on your favorite spot with the steady confidence of a master, his hot tongue starting broad but never failing to hit you squarely at just the right angle with every pass.

This may be a competition, but Hvitserk is not being stingy with his assistance. His hands continue to play with your nipples, almost idly, like he absolutely can’t help himself. And the raspy way he’s breathing in your ear while he toys with your body – he’s making Ubbe’s job too easy. Caught between the two of them like this, your breath starts hitching almost before you’ve really had a chance to settle in and enjoy this crazy scenario.

“You’re close,” Hvitserk says.

“Uh huh,” you reply. It comes out throaty little sexpot voice.

Ubbe growls with pride, the vibration of it against your clit ratcheting you up yet another notch closer to release.

Hvitserk’s hands leave your breasts. One digs in his pocket, producing his phone so, just as they had said, he can open a stopwatch app. That alone should be killing the mood, but then Ubbe presses his fingers inside you and you realize there really is no going back for you. Nothing is too juvenile, or ridiculous, when the Lothbrok boys are the ones asking you for it.

Long, cool fingers wrap around your own. Hvitserk is holding your hand. “Squeeze me when you start coming,” he rasps in your ear. You can hear the excitement behind his instructional tone. This is so fucked-up, and they both love it.

Ubbe goes in for his grand finale. He finds that perfect angle, from both inside and out now, and works you relentlessly.

“Ooooh…” your moaning starts, and just as that wave of pleasure crests you clench your fingers around Hvitserk’s hand.

You hold your breath. The orgasm rocks you hard, your naked body writhing against Hvitserk’s chest, your cheek rubbing into his t-shirt and you hope you’re not going to drool on him. You had been a little worried that knowing your orgasm would be timed might be too much pressure, might make it slip away as soon as it’s crested like you’ve experienced in less-than-ideal situations before, but Ubbe is too good for that, this situation is apparently too hot for that, and you’re sure that clock is running even longer than you ever expected as the pleasure spirals in wave after wave through your core underneath Ubbe’s relentless tongue.

You suck in one gasping breath and then hold it again, somewhere in the middle there. You keep it in even after the ecstasy begins to fade, and maintain your death grip on Hvitserk’s hand. Hvitty’s a cool guy, but Ubbe’s your guy, right? One of them, at least. It’s easy to follow the urge to cheat the clock a little on his behalf. Exaggerate the results by a few more heartbeats. He deserves it. And it feels good to pick him over someone else for once.

Finally you slump, going limp in Hvitserk’s arms except for a few twitches as Ubbe finishes up with one last swipe of his tongue. He embraces your thighs, nestling in against one leg and gasping a little himself.

“Twenty-two seconds,” Hvitserk reads, “very nice, bro.”

Ubbe nips at your thigh, with affection. “She’s amazing.”

Four hands move across your body, enhancing your afterglow. Ubbe makes his way down your legs as Hvitserk sets his phone to the side and runs his palms up your flanks.

Coming as hard as that might make a girl sleepy, but under the movement of those hands you feel electrified, like every one of your nerve endings has been turned on now, and the possibilities for pleasure are only just beginning.

Ubbe comes up to his knees between your legs, leaning forward and scooping you up with a hand in your hair to meet his insistent kiss. You sit up between them, enjoying the slight soreness of your spanked ass rubbing bare against the couch cushion, and savor Hvitserk’s hands as they caress down your back to your hips. “Time to switch,” you ask between Ubbe’s kisses, “or will there be an interlude?”

Ubbe makes an interested sound as your hands run down to his crotch. As you expected, he’s rock hard and swelling into your touch.

“When we’re alone,” you croon, “you’re usually making me return a favor like that almost immediately.”

Ubbe responds by pushing your head firmly downwards.

One of the best parts about being a sub is that you’re not responsible for managing anything about a scene. Nothing but your own hard limits, of course. But something simple like this, deciding whether this is okay, or if Hvitserk will find this too rude or feel left out . . . that’s not your job to consider. Ubbe’s forcing your face down to his crotch and that’s the only thing that has to be in your world right now.

He sighs as you open up his jeans, releasing the pressure that had to be quite restrictive for him all this time. Neither of the boys have taken off a stitch of clothing, you realize, and here you are fully naked on your hands and knees between them.

Ubbe reaches in and pulls his erection out through the fly of his boxer briefs. Does It count as him getting a little more naked, if he’s immediately pulling your mouth over to swallow it up?

You always kind of think about channeling your inner snake when sucking Ubbe off, as you just about unhinge your jaw to fit that slab of meat he’s packing into your mouth. It’s worth it for the sounds he makes, though. This time he’s holding himself back, probably trying to look tough with his brother present, but his guttural grunts and muttered curses when you swirl your tongue just right are close enough to the full show. He keeps his hand on the back of your neck, too, not exactly controlling your movements but certainly keeping you on-task down there.

As your head came down to meet Ubbe’s cock, your hindquarters rose. Hvitserk is certainly getting an eyeful of your ass and whatever he can glimpse of your pussy between your bare thighs, with your knees only slightly spread for balance up on the couch cushion. It takes him longer than you expect to reach out and start exploring what’s on offer with his fingertips.

He starts low on your thighs, tracing up toward your naughty bits lightly. You arch your back a little more, encouraging him. His fingernails graze over the widest part of your ass.

The longer it takes him to come close to your pussy, the more you’re silently begging him to. You’re working your mouth up and down over Ubbe’s cock, relishing your lover’s taste and scent, sure, but you’re also quite distracted by thoughts of what Hvitserk’s looking at and what he’s going to do next.

When his thumb finally slides down to the edge of your pussy lips you moan, loudly, the sound made even more pornographic by the way Ubbe’s choking cock distorts it. Perhaps Hvitserk understands it as encouragement, because his thumb keeps sliding, up and down, in a confident delineation of the edges of your sex. You moan some more. It’s actually quite fun to hear the ways the sounds come out in garbled and staccato bursts as Ubbe’s hand urges your mouth faster and deeper.

“Fuck, keep making those sounds,” Ubbe says.

Hvitserk does his part, continuing to tease your cunt, not doing anything very specific or intense, just exploring and tantalizing and waking everything up all over again. He finds your clit and bats at it just a little, then spirals away again to swirl his fingertip at your very entrance.

“Fuck, this pussy,” Hvitserk groans through his teeth. “I want to fuck it so bad.”

You arch your back even more, almost trying to force yourself over his fingers as you continue on fastidiously with the job in front of you.

Ubbe speaks for you. “Go ahead, dude. I think there’s still condoms in the drawer.”

Hvitserk’s pressure increases, just a little bit. “Not yet.” He traps your clit between his fingers and pinches. “Still gotta win that contest. I need to keep my head in the game. I get off now, I lose my edge.”

You can’t fucking take it. You slide up off Ubbe’s cock with a popping sound so you can plead with Hvitserk. “Just a little, then? Just fuck it a little.” He’s making you too fucking crazy to keep quiet. “I want you, Hvitserk.”

“Honey, you think I can get in this cute little pussy of yours and stop myself before I blow? No one’s that strong.”

“Speaking of blowing . . .” Ubbe’s coaxing your mouth back over his dick before you can answer, using your scalp to hold you steady as he starts to fuck up into your face. Your aroused little moans turn helpless around the rough thrusting of his cock, while Hvitserk gifts you with a fraction of what you want by pressing one blessed finger inside.

“Swallow it all,” Ubbe tells you, his voice gone breathy and thin. “Don’t spill a drop.”

You fuck yourself back over Hvitserk’s long finger as Ubbe’s pace increases, spurring himself on to blast his seed into the back of your throat. Swallowing is certainly the easiest way to make sure you don’t choke.

He shudders inside your mouth, holding you close while he pants and decides he’s really done. You savor the last moments of Ubbe’s cock in your mouth. Hvitserk slowed down when your body stopped rocking, but never really stopped: in, out. In, out. That finger keeps sliding, to remind you. Ubbe’s done, but you’re not. Not. Even. Close.

When Ubbe finally releases your face, you suck him clean as you pull back and then lift your head. You hold the rest of your body still, unwilling to interrupt Hvitserk’s steady rhythm inside you. Ubbe wraps his hand under your chin, guiding you to look up at him.

His eyes are sleepy around the edges, but still sparkling. You watch them track quickly over your face. “You’re up, Hvitserk,” he says, amused. “She looks ready.”

Unfortunately, this makes Hvitserk stop fingering you. You turn towards him with a whine.

He meets your eyes and smirks. “Definitely ready. Lay down.”

You spread yourself along the couch as Hvitserk slides down off it, guiding your legs to open where he can easily reach you from his knees on the floor. Your head doesn’t fit in Ubbe’s lap from this position; you’re lying flat on your back across the middle of the couch, with your face next to his hip. He reaches down and cups your cheek, dragging his thumb idly over your skin.

It feels a little more vulnerable, to be laid out like this. Which enhances the thrill of knowing that a man you barely know is between your spread legs, staring at your most intimate places. Hvitserk lets his hot breath steam over your wet and needy entrance, building the anticipation. Hands caress the insides of your thighs, then his thumb starts sliding in to open you up.

You can feel how wet you’ve become from the ease with which he parts your inner lips. You moan and arch as Hvitserk drags that moisture up to lubricate your clit, letting him draw easy circles around the sensitive button.

When he leans in to replace his thumb with his mouth, it’s gentle, almost a kiss. Then he sucks on your clit and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Fuck, you look good like this,” Ubbe mutters. He leans forward and scoops up both your breasts with his hands. “I’m going to get hard again already.”

A nervous giggle slips out as you ponder how you might get caught in an endless cycle of cocks after this. If watching you with one is only going to keep turning the other one on again. Perhaps you’re fortunate that Ubbe and Ivar never try to have you at the same time like this. A girl can only take so much.

Hvitserk, it turns out, is not an idle boaster. His competence at eating pussy is instantly apparent. His tongue glides hungrily to all the right places, and when you look down, the dark satisfaction in his hooded eyes makes you feel like you’re caught in a filthy monster’s jaws.

You can’t even track what exactly he’s doing down there. All you know is that the pleasure is surging, from every square millimeter that his lips and tongue touch. He slips two fingers inside you, and rocks them in such a way that you swear he’s found something inside there that no one else has ever noticed before. Your whole body is singing.

An obnoxious noise brings you just a little bit back down to earth. One of Ubbe’s hands leaves your chest, the other left gently cupping one tit.

“It’s Ivar,” Ubbe says, scooping Hvitserk’s vibrating phone off the table.

Hvitserk sucks you hard before lifting his mouth, drawing a strangled cry from you. You realize you’ve been making all kinds of crazy noises for the past few minutes. “Let him listen,” the arrogant boy responds.

Ivar’s voice is faint, but you can hear it, issuing forth from the phone hovering above you in Ubbe’s hand. His tone is impatient, as usual: “Hvitserk, you there?”

His brother has dropped his mouth back between your legs, sucking at you in time to the curl of his fingertips deep inside. There’s no way to keep yourself from moaning, and making ragged little sounds whenever you try to breathe.

“Interesting.” Ivar drags out the first syllable. You don’t hear anything from him for a while, and then, he says your name. “Can you hear me?”

You turn your next moan upward, into a whiny little “uh huh!”

Hvitserk is not letting you get any more lucid than that.

“Are you showing Hvitserk your best hospitality?” Ivar asks, his Dom voice apparent even from this distance. Ubbe’s thumb moves and his voice gets louder. “Doesn’t sound like it,” Ivar continues, chastising you on speaker. “It sounds like you’re being quite selfish.”

Is Hvitserk getting you in trouble right now? The movement of his tongue only intensifies, threatening to turn your steady moans into squeals. Your legs are starting to shake as heat floods your core.

“What are they doing to you over there?” Ivar continues. “I don’t hear Ubbe, but I’m sure he’s lurking about.”

If he’s expecting you to answer, he’s going to be disappointed. No way you’re capable of speech.

“I hope you are enjoying yourself,” Ivar says, continuing on as a monologue. “And I hope that you’re looking forward to being punished later, for being such a bad girl. Making our guest work so hard for your own selfish, wicked pleasure.” Every word goes straight to your cunt, helping Hvitserk build you toward an orgasm that promises to be a screamer. “You’re the one that should have your mouth full right now, greedy girl. I see that you can’t be trusted to be left alone. We will begin… some much stricter training when I get home.” Fuck. “I’m sure Hvitserk won’t mind helping me teach you better manners. Are you close, greedy girl? I hear your voice changing. Enjoy it, because it might be the last one that you get for a long, long time.”

Between Ivar’s words and Hvitserk’s skills, you don’t stand a fucking chance. You clutch behind you to find Ubbe’s hand, barely remembering the rules of the contest in time as this pleasure starts to climax.

“Wait,” Ubbe huffs, “gotta get the stopwatch.”

Ivar’s chuckle drips out of the phone while Ubbe fumbles with it. He may have had some choice words for what these two gorgeous, sexy idiots are up to, but you only hear him get as far as “Are you two—” before a rushing in your ears takes over and you lose consciousness of anything else but the tidal wave of pleasure crashing through your body.

Hvitserk is relentless. He doesn’t slow the intensity a bit, pushes you through your screaming, writhing orgasm with the dedication of a pit bull as he just hits that magic spot over and over and over. You’re shaking and gasping before it’s done, and when the peak turns to oversensitivity he’s still determined to wring a few more seconds out of you, doesn’t stop until your thighs try to clench shut around his head in a helpless attempt to push him away.

You’re left panting as Ubbe announces the time above your head. “Thirty-four seconds.”

“And you started late,” Hvitserk points out. He’s panting too.

“And I started late,” Ubbe admits.

So much for your attempt at cheating on Ubbe’s behalf. Hvitserk sure as hell won fair and square. If Ivar’s little participation doesn’t count.

Wait. Is Ivar still on the phone?

“I take it Hvitserk is the winner.”

Yep. He’s there.

Hvitserk wipes his mouth as he rises from the ground, lifting one of your legs to roll you out of his way so he can resume his seat on the end of the couch. He nestles himself against your naked hip and reaches out his upturned hand to Ubbe, silently asking for his phone back.

You expect him to speak, but all you hear is the descending tone indicating an ended call. Hvitserk tosses his phone back on the table with a dismissive sound. You think you might even see a trace of a snarl on his lip as you look up at him through your post-orgasmic haze.

Then all his attention is back on you. You watch his greedy eyes run all over your body, from your upturned hip to the curve of your tilted waist, your bare breasts and your parted, panting mouth. “What were you saying earlier?” he asks, leaning in with a conspiratorial smile. “Something about want me to ‘fuck it just a little?’”

You nod breathlessly as he climbs further over your body. His hooded eyes look predatory now, and if somehow Ivar made him mad then he definitely seems ready to take it out on you. He gives your hip a little smack, watching how the impact makes you jiggle, then inspects your face while he gives you another one.

“You like it rough, huh?”

You nod, and twist your body to present your ass to him even better. Honestly you feel like your pussy is about to start dripping on the couch, so it also doesn’t hurt to get it further away from the cushions.

He nods too, thoughtfully. “There’s this position I like. Not every girl can handle it.”

Ubbe makes an interested noise above you. “She can handle a lot.”

“So I keep hearing.” Hvitserk taps at your ass. “Up.”

He stands at the same time as you do, and you don’t miss the way he readjusts himself inside his pants. He pulls you in close for a kiss, pressing your naked body fully against his clothes.

He whips his shirt off. Finally. “There are condoms around here?”

“Yes,” you say, dropping to your knees to open one of the little drawers at the base of the coffee table. You and Ubbe had scattered them all over the house before he made his monogamy pledge and the tests had come back clean. You turn back to Hvitserk, presenting him the little package in your palms.

He makes a happy little noise in the back of his throat. “I like the way you look down there.” He loosens his belt. “Now I’m thinking you need to stay on your knees and show me what that sweet mouth can do.”

You nod, eagerly, as you watch him get his dick out and step closer to your face. You meet it with your tongue, wrapping a hand around his shaft to keep him pointed down where you can reach.

There’s something extra fun about a blowjob that you don’t intend to finish. You lick around the head of his cock like it’s a lollypop, pausing to give him playful eye contact and then watching him watch you swallow it up.

Ubbe’s the one that groans. When you flick your eyes over to him he’s got one hand thrust into his own pants like he’s gearing up for round two. “You look so good. Teasing it like that.”

You can’t help yourself. You keep your eyes locked onto Ubbe while pulling Hvitserk a little closer, giving his shaft little kitten licks.

“You are fucking hot as hell, darlin’,” Hvitserk says, looking straight down the line of his body at you. “But I’ve had enough teasing tonight. Come up over here.”

He leads you to the side of the couch and bends you over the armrest.

“Saw this in a porno once.” He kicks at your legs until you spread them a little further apart. “Stop me if it’s not working for you. But I think you’re flexible enough.”

He pushes down between your shoulders until your chest hits the couch. You relax the side of your face into the cushion and just go with it. Now your hips are higher than the rest of your body, and quite decently supported by the plush armrest. Not hard so far. There must be something more coming.

You hear the sound of the condom wrapper opening. Ubbe shifts above your head, but you resist the temptation to check and see what he’s doing on his end of the couch. Ivar’s right; you’ve been selfish. You must give your full submission to Hvitserk now, and show him that you are doing exactly as he instructs. No more, no less, and no looking at his brother.

You know you’re wet but he spits on his fingers and works a little added lubrication into you anyway.

“I liked the way you were begging,” he comments, voice husky as you feel him moving in closer. “Think I can make you beg a little more?”

“Oh, Hvitserk, please.” You angle your hips up even higher, offering yourself to him. You’re positively aching to be filled up, after all this.

“Please what?” You feel the brush of something thicker than fingers against your slick entrance.

You take a breath. “Please fuck me until I can’t walk straight.”

“That is definitely the plan.” He pushes into you slow, the second Lothbrok you’ve let go balls-deep into you now. He’s not as thick as Ubbe but that hardly matters, not when you’re swollen with need and reveling in the fact that this one wants you too, bad enough to throw shame out the window and fuck you right in front of his brother. “Fuuuuck.” He presses in deep and just stays there a minute, hands gripping your ass tight.

You buck your hips up against him, although you don’t have much leverage with your belly in the couch and your legs spread so wide.

He grunts and answers your enthusiasm with his own, starting to bounce against you in measured thrusts. “Ungh, I knew you had a sweet little pussy. Are you happy to share it with me?”

“Yes,” you wail, as he pounds you harder, the friction electrifying every nerve ending they hadn’t already fried out with that pussy-eating competition.

“You gonna share it with me all week?”

“Uh huh!”

“And you can you really handle that? Three guys telling you what to do around here? Keeping this pussy full?”

“M-mhmm.”

“What was that?”

“Yes! I’ll find a way.”

“Good.” His thrusts have settled into a quick, steady rhythm. “Arch your back more.”

You really have to press your chest into the couch, and come up to your tiptoes when it feels like you can barely reach the floor as it is, but you manage it. It makes his thrusts feel deeper, threatening to bottom out against your cervix.

“Now give me your arms.”

This must be it. The thing that other girls won’t do. You give up supporting your body with your forearms, twisting them both behind your back instead. It puts a lot of your weight on your face and upper chest, the only things left to support the bouncing impacts of his thrusting, but it’s manageable. Fingers wrap around your wrists, straightening your arms back behind you. He’s using them like handles now, to pull your arched body over his cock. It’s rough, but you can take it. You’re just flexible enough.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” Hvitserk croons.

“You’re telling me,” Ubbe says. His voice is coming from the side now. You open your eyes to see that he’s left the couch for the coffee table, sitting right across from your face where he can get the best view of your contorted figure. “Think you can lift your feet off the ground, wrap them behind him?”

You try. Lifting your legs like that clenches your pelvic floor, which makes Hvitserk yelp and then fuck you harder. Now you’ve got absolutely no control at all, laying on your face and getting fucked down into the cushions. You might be drooling. There’s nothing to be done for it if you are.

You wouldn’t be able to stay like this for long, but it doesn’t seem like you’re going to have to. Hvitserk’s making this drawn-out humming sort of noise, he’s so into it, pistoning into you at an accelerating rate that suggests he’s barreling toward climax.

“This is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Ubbe says. You want him to shut up so he doesn’t make Hvitserk uncomfortable, but these two do seem to have some kind of established groove for this already. And hearing him tell you how sexy this outrageously acrobatic pose is does make it easier for you to hang on in it for a little longer. It’s not an angle that’s going to get you off, but ferocious pleasure rings through your body anyway.

“Ahh—” Hvitserk’s rising wail almost sounds desperate, and then he forces air between his teeth as he grinds himself even deeper into you.

You don’t complain as he crushes you just a little more. It’s obvious that he’s reveling in a prolonged, ecstatic climax, and you’re certainly not going to begrudge him anything less than the thirty-four seconds of bliss he so recently finished giving you.

But when he gasps the end of his release, and his body stops clenching, you’re tugging your arms out of his grip, grateful to untwist your shoulders and get the pressure off your neck.

“Fuck—thanks. Fuck,” he pants. “That was incredible.” He stays inside you. You feel his forehead drop to the middle of your back as you both start letting your muscles relax one by one. You like the way his hair feels on your skin.

An insistent, gorilla-like grunt emanates from somewhere above your head. “My turn,” Ubbe says, and his hands wrap around your forearms.

“Dude,” Hvitserk exhales. “Give me a fucking minute!” His hips writhe against you. “She feels so fucking good . . .”

You feel Ubbe take a seat on the couch next to your head, but he does not release your arms. His grip flexes impatiently, but at least he’s not pulling you bodily out from underneath his brother.

“She probably needs a rest too, dude,” Hvitserk continues, his breath warming your skin. “A little recovery time from all that.” As if realizing he was barely following his own advice, he withdraws himself carefully from your body and lets you move your legs more comfortably back together.

“Nah, she’s better than that,” Ubbe rumbles, voice thick and rich and proud. “She takes dick like a champ.” His fingers tickle under your chin until you look up at him. “You want two in a row, don’t you babe.” The gleam in his eye tells you he’s fully recovered from his last orgasm, and absolutely ready to go.

Hvitserk is being very nice. But is nice really what you want? You probably wouldn’t be in this position if that was the case. “Yeah,” you say, answering Ubbe’s growling with your own throaty sex kitten moan.

Ubbe’s blue eyes blaze and he tugs you towards him. Your legs wobble a little as you climb around the arm of the couch. Hvitserk’s promise kept. Ubbe sees your weakness and scoops you up, like any good predator would.

He whirls you around, getting you underneath his body as your back presses into the armrest of his side of the couch. He can only kiss you once, as sloppy as he is passionate, before he’s struggling with his pants.

That glorious erection is rock-hard as you help him free it from his clothing. He wastes no time pushing himself into you, as if he took Hvitserk’s dirty talk about “keeping this pussy full” quite seriously.

You might be just a little bit sore. That hardly matters when Ubbe gets his rhythm going, the aching only adding to the decadent pleasure of back-to-back fuckings.

He’s got one foot on the floor, giving him ridiculous leverage to split you open against the corner of the couch. You throw your arms around his neck and brace yourself, looking over his shoulder at Hvitserk’s sleepy-cat smile as the boy catches his breath while watching you get impaled.

“Touch yourself,” says Ubbe, shifting to pull your hand down between your bodies, flexing his fucking abs to curl his body and give you room as he continues to pound.

“Ivar said—”

“Don’t you want one more, before he makes that threat official?”

Fuck. Good point. See, Ubbe can be nice too. You let your fingers fly.

“I want to feel you cum all over my dick,” he grunts out, his pace increasing as he seems to turn himself on even more with just the thought. “And I want to hear it, too.”

It doesn’t take long. Your poor pussy shivers under Ubbe’s onslaught, the clenching of your muscles as you hold yourself up against it magnifying the oncoming orgasm into something that makes you want to scream like some kind of wild shieldmaiden between your teeth.

And Ubbe wanted to hear you. So you do. That sizzling pleasure radiates out of your core until your lower half locks up, clamping around him so hard that even his punishing pace has to slow.

When you suck in your next breath and the sound of your own voice fades, you hear Ubbe gasping. He’s coming too, locked down in your throbbing pussy. You stay like that, clenched tight and pressing up against him, for a few more breaths while your climax fades only slowly. You actually felt your inner walls milking him. Drawing that seed deep up inside you.

You release a throaty sigh and finally let your body unwind.

Ubbe presses his forehead against yours. “Fuck, princess,” he breathes. “How do you keep getting more amazing?”

You end up sprawled along the couch between them, your head in Hvitserk’s lap while Ubbe massages every kink out of the big muscles of your legs. You don’t feel self-conscious to still be naked. You feel like nothing less than a classical goddess. Something the masters would line up to paint, and even more; the utterly feminine deity that men have immortalized in clay and enshrined on cave walls since the dawn of the human capacity to think. Nothing more natural in the world than your naked, beloved body.

Which doesn’t mean that you’re not grateful when Ubbe spreads a warm blanket over you, when his massaging hands have mostly finished. Sure, you were going to spend the afternoon cleaning this room, but your eyes are drifting closed in the post-sex haze now. They’ll turn the game back on, won’t they, and let you take a little nap across their laps first.

But you don’t hear the TV turn back on. Not yet. Instead, a conversation begins above your dozing head.

“You do this with Ivar, dude?”

Ubbe shifts underneath your leg before he responds. “Not like this.”

Hvitserk makes a soft sound. “Didn’t think so.” There’s a pause, long enough to tempt you back into sleep, but you really want to hear if they’re going to say anything more about this. Hvitserk has known them his whole life. He probably has some insight that would be valuable for you to know. You shift a little in his lap though, making sure he knows you’re still awake. Wouldn’t be right to actually eavesdrop.

His hand comes to your head, stroking gently across your hair. “Can't believe Ivar's really sharing with you, dude.”

“Maybe I'm sharing with him.”

Hvitserk just laughs.

You open your eyes to see Ubbe shrugging. “It’s working out so far. I let him lead.”

“I didn’t think you could do that.”

Ubbe leans forward over your feet, grabbing his forgotten bottle off the coffee table. “He’s grown a lot, since we were all at home.” He takes a thoughtful swig. “I probably have, too.” He makes eye contact with you for a second, possibly acknowledging the awkwardness of talking about these things over your head, but doesn’t say anything that might draw you into the conversation.

Not that you have anything to say. You’re just soaking up every little piece of information you can get.

Your face is pointed away from Hvitserk; although you’re in his lap, you can’t really see anything of him but his knee.

“Well, it’s the only thing I’ve ever found that works with him. Ivar has to be the one in control, or it doesn’t go well.”

“You say that like I haven’t been living with him for years, too, dude.”

“I’m saying it because it’s hard to believe you can really pull that off. You’ve always had to kind of be the top dog yourself, dude.”

Ubbe’s fingers stroke you underneath the blanket. “Some things are worth a little compromise.”

Hvitserk bounces your head just a little. “What do you think? Is Ubbe ever really not the boss?” You rouse yourself, twisting your body until your face is pointed up at Hvitserk’s. “Pretty much ran the show today, didn’t he?”

You consider your answer, glancing between their waiting faces. At least they’re both smiling. This is not an answer you need to feel worried about crafting too carefully. “I think it was pretty natural for him to guide things today,” you say, looking up into Hvitserk’s eyes, “since you and I had never—” you trail off self-consciously as you stare up into that gorgeous face.

Hvitserk squeezes you up in his arms, and his smile turns mischievous. “But now we are very familiar with each other. Aren’t we.”

You nod, suddenly breathless again.

“You want to keep playing with me, while I’m in town?”

You smile and nod harder.

“Good,” Ubbe says, his hand running up your leg. “Cuz by my count, we’re not exactly done here. You got me off twice. Hvitserk only nutted once. That’s not right,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s our guest. You should spend tonight in bed with him, at the very least.”

And why do you get the feeling Ubbe’s going to find an excuse to be involved in that, too?

“No offense,” Hvitserk says, “but that’s the kind of shit I’m talking about, dude. Telling us what to do. You let anything not be Ivar’s idea, man, and you’re done.” Hvitserk’s gaze swivels back down to meet yours. “If he can’t hold some of that shit back,” he tells you, a smirk twisting up his cheek, “you’re never going to be able to have the both of them at the same time.”

Taglist is open:  @hanhanxx @xxdearlybeloved​@littledeadrottinghood @persephone-is-here-omg​ @rekdreams247​ @inforapound​​ @creepshowzombae @tomarisela​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @walkxthexmoon​​@funmadnessandbadassvikings @trashqueenbitch @justlovelifeblog​​ @earl-aive​​ @supernaturalvikingwhore​​ @equalstrashflavoredtrash​​ @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen​​ @ceridwenofwales​​ @grungyblonde​​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​​ @hvittysmutanon​​ @honestsycrets​​ @wuxiesalt @thorins-queen-of-erebor​​ @writingfromasgard​​ @tootie-fruity​​ @lordsexmachine​​ @uncomfortable-writers​​ @sadbutatleastsassy​​ @sweatstreatz01 @ritual-unions-gotme​​ @likealostkiss​​ @thehangedmanandthehoneybee @xxlilqueeniexx @thefightingdragon​​ @xbergiex​​ @artemiseamoon​​ @ivarinleatherpants​​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @michael-guerin​​ @chibisgotovalhalla​​  @heavenly1927​​ @writingsnmusings​​

[heartsywritesthethings]

Sk8: The Sleepover

Author: GA!babe

Summary: The gang’s all here for a sleepover at Reki’s! In a discussion of skate names, Reki finds himself the center of attention after getting flustered by the mere mention of the word “tickle” (2,842 words)

“Langa! Glad you came!” Reki exclaimed as he opened the door to find his best friend standing there. 

And then he looked behind the boy and saw…four other people right behind him.

“Uh, what are they doing here?” Reki asked, trying not to sound too rude, but it’s not like he wanted to invite two grown men, a clown, and a literal child over to his house as well. It was just supposed to be him and Langa tonight.

“Oh, well when you told me that your mom and sister were out of town for some mother-daughter bonding, I thought it would be nice if everyone came along.” Langa said with a smile. It made Reki wonder again why that smile made his heart flip flop. This boy? The one with a pile of snow in place of a brain?

“That’s not a problem, right, Reki?” Miya asked, snaking himself around Langa’s legs and looking up at the red head with his big puppy-dog eyes. 

Reki took a deep breath.

“No, of course not. Come on in,” Reki sighed and took a small step aside so everyone could walk into his house. The house that he wasn’t supposed to have anyone else in while his mother and sister were away. That one. 

“Nice place you have here, Reki. I’m sure the ladies love a humble man who lives with his mom,” Joe teased on his way in, ruffling the kid’s hair.

“Just so you know, Carla said there was a 95% chance that we were seen by one of your neighbors. I hope you aren’t grounded for too long after your mother finds out,” Cherry said as he slid by.

“Thanks for telling me,” Reki whined, his shoulders slumping. Great. Now it was almost guaranteed that he would be grounded when his mom got back.

“Wait, you’re not allowed to have people over? Why didn’t you say so?” Shadow hissed, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was outside looking at him.

“Well, that’s not exactly–” Langa began.

“What kind of flowers does your mom like? I can get her a vase before she even gets home,” Shadow continued. taking out a little notepad from his pocket and waiting for a response.

“Uh, she likes lillies I think?” Reki said with a dry chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Shadow scribbled it down with a frown.

“Not exactly the best of apology flowers, but I’ll see what I can do,” the older man grumbled as he stepped into the house.

“Sorry for ruining your date night, Reki. Sleepovers are fun though. Do you think we should braid each other’s hair?” Miya said, popping a bubblegum bubble as he also walked into the house.

“Date?” Reki squeaked, his face turning a rather nice shade of pink. Miya just laughed as he skipped towards the couch.

“You will not get your little claws on my hair!” Cherry snapped from the other room.

And then he was alone with Langa. The guy he had wanted here…alone in the house. 

“Sorry, was I not supposed to invite them over?” Langa asked, smiling awkwardly. Reki couldn’t help but melt just a little. How could he say no to that face?

“Ah, no, you’re fine. I just forgot to ask for them over too. I just got, uh, busy with a new…new board! Yeah! Thanks. You saved me the trouble.” Reki stammered awkwardly, shuffling on his feet. Langa smiled softly and their shoulders bumped as he stepped in. 

Reki closed the door with a sigh.

This was going to be a long night.

~ ~ ~

“Alright, what are we going to watch?” Miya asked, jumping onto the couch, quickly getting comfortable against the pillow in the corner.

“Watch? This is a party, right? We drink and play games until dawn!” Joe announced, sitting down on the couch and stretching his arms high over his head. 

“You’re an idiot,” Cherry huffed, looking around with a barely concealed look of disgust. He looked between the couch, chair, and love-seat, before deciding that he was perfectly fine standing right here thank you very much. 

“I’m an idiot? I’m just trying to make things fun around here!” Joe exclaimed, looking around to see if anyone agreed with him. 

“Did you forget how old he was? He’d get in more trouble if his mom found empty sake bodies around the house,” Shadow huffed as he took his spot next to Joe. The burly man scowled at being sat next to a clown, but he didn’t protest too much. 

“Well, there’s only so long she can ground me.” Reki chuckled before plopping down on the nearby love-seat. Langa sat down next to him, not at all bothered by how incredibly close they were.

“I’m sure she won’t be too mad, Reki,” Langa said and pat his friend on the back. 

“Well, if we can’t drink, then why exactly are we here? What are we going to do?” Joe groaned, dragging a hand down his face dramatically.

“What were you expecting? He was probably going to play spin the bottle with his new boyfriend, right Reki?” Miya teased, a shit eating grin on his little face. “Maybe swap spit and make babies?”

“Miya, do you know how–?” Joe began before Shadow smacked him in the face with a heavy pillow.

“I will not be explaining that on my night off,” Shadow grumbled with a shake of his head. Reki and Langa stifled their giggles, giving each other matching looks.

“What? What’s so funny?” Miya hissed, his face turning pink as he realized that there was something that the adults knew that he definitely wasn’t aware of.

“You’ll know when you’re older,” Cherry said with a sigh and a shake of his head.

Reki laughed even harder at that. 

“Stop it, guys! What is it? What did I say?” Miya whined, crossing his arms over his chest and just outright pouting. He had been bullied in school before, but this felt different. Sure, they were laughing, but there was no real malice behind it.

“We are not doing this tonight,” Shadow groaned, “Why can’t we just find monopoly or something?”

Reki laughed harder, leaning back against the back of the love-seat. Langa looked up and down the red-head.

“Really tickled over there, aren’t you Gearhead?” Cherry mused. 

Reki’s laughter dissolved into a coughing fit.

“Wh-what?” Reki spluttered, his face turning an even brighter shade of bright red. 

“What? Not Gearhead? Gears? Sunshine?” Cherry mused, finally sitting down, but on the arm of the couch. 

“Those are all terrible skate names. How about Mech? TechDeck?” Joe chimed in.

“Oh, and Joe is such a cool skating name?” Cherry scoffed.

“With all this going on? Keeping it simple is how the ladies don’t get too overwhelmed by my awesomeness,” Joe shot back, flexing his arms for everyone to see.

“We could call him Fire? Opposite of Snow there?” Shadow said with a wink in Langa’s direction. This was the type of teasing that he could get behind because it wasn’t some complicated nonsense that he would have to explain to a child.

“How about Red? Like his face when you said that word?” Miya said, getting up off of the couch and sauntering over to where the two teenagers were sitting. 

“Gearhead?” Langa asked, looking between Reki and the sly cat-like boy who was stalking his way over to them.

“Tickle.” Miya said plainly. Reki went an even brighter shade of red, closely resembling his own hair at the moment.

“Wh-What? I was just…thinking that Gearhead was such a stupid name that-uh…I dunno. It was ridiculous,” Reki said with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“I am insulted by that, Reki. Nicknames are incredibly important on the S. You’ll need to figure something out so that you’re not in Snow’s shadow every time to you step on a board.” Cherry said. Now he was the one pouting.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that, Cherry. It was just–” Reki continued, glancing between Miya and Cherry. 

“He’s just too shy to admit that the word tickle got him all bothered like this,” Miya said smugly and jumped onto the arm of the love-seat.

“Why would something like that bother you, Reki?” Langa asked, all innocent, but Reki could swear he could see evil behind those bright blue eyes. 

“It doesn’t bother me. I think Miya is just upset that we teased him a little.” Reki insisted, feeling like he was just a piece of red juicy meat and his friends just all turned into starving lions. 

He could practically feel his skin buzzing.

“You sound really defensive, kid.” Joe said, leaning forward with a smirk on his face. “Are you that ticklish?”

“There’s only one way to find out!” Miya said and jumped forward–

Only to be stopped by Langa. Reki cowered with a squeak, pressed hard against the back of the love-seat.

“As much I would love to see Reki tickled to pieces, it’s not very fair if we all gang up against him like this, don’t you guys think so?” Langa asked, looking around. Reki sighed in relief at first before realizing what exactly the former snowboarder had said.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, shaking his head frantically.

“And how do you propose we do that, Snow?” Cherry asked, now definitely intrigued as to how exactly the blue-haired boy planned to get Reki in a puddle of giggles. 

“Without killing him of course,” Shadow added with a pointed look. Sure, he liked to cause chaos and make people laugh (especially as his clown skater persona) but five against one was a bit much. 

“Sure, we can play a regular party game.” Langa said with a shrug and turned to his friend and a pouting cat-boy. “Reki, truth or dare?”

Reki looked around and huffed.

“Truth.” He said with a small nod. No way he would say dare after all that nonsense about the damn t-word.

“Alright, where’s your most ticklish spot?” Langa asked calmly.

How the hell could Langa say shit like that without blushing?

“I don’t want to play this game. It’s rigged.” Reki grumbled. Now he was red from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck. After he let all of these hooligans into his house when he knew he would be grounded later… they treat him like this? Totally uncool.

“Alright, how many of us do you think you could handle tickling you? Surely you’re not that ticklish, Red.” Miya teased and stuck out his tongue.

“And what about you, Miya? You wouldn’t happen to be ticklish, would you?” Shadow asked, looking between Miya and Reki.

“You never answered the question, Reki.” Langa said with a smirk on his face. 

“Alright, fine. You guys are bullies.” Reki huffed. “I don’t have any. You all are just wasting your time. Why don’t we pop a movie or something in the–”

And just like that, Langa was on top of him. He was shoved to the very corner of the love-seat with Langa practically straddling his waist.

“You can’t lie during the game, Reki. That’s not how you play,” Langa said with a shake of his head. “Where should we test out first?”

“Langa, come on, don’t do this. I’ll teach you a new skateboarding trick if you let me go right now. Maybe even make you some of my special ramen,” Reki rambled, kicking his feet out on the couch as he scrambled to get away. Langa snatched both of Reki’s wrists and pulled them above his head.

“Miya, would you be so kind to hold onto these for me?” Langa asked sweetly. 

“With pleasure,” Miya hummed, grabbing Reki’s wrists and holding them as tight as he could. 

“I would also like to join in on the fun!” Joe said, jumping up from the couch and running over to where the others were getting ready to tear Reki apart.

“Alright, you guys have five minutes, and then you have to let him go.” Shadow said, laying down on the now empty couch and getting comfortable. He took out his phone and pulled up the timer app.

“Five minutes?” The four said in unison, though Reki was more upset with how long time seemed to pass when he was getting tickled to all hell. 

Not that it happened often, mind you, but before he had skateboarding, he had more friends and those friends definitely took advantage of how ticklish he was time and time again. 

It had really been a while since he had been tickled to pieces and a part of him was…excited? Maybe?

No, that couldn’t be right.

“Time starts now,” Shadow said as he pressed the start button.

Langa went first, poking and prodding at the exposed belly of his best friend. Reki grit his teeth, refusing to let them get the satisfaction of hearing him break right away. Maybe if he doesn’t laugh, they’ll get bored.

Was Reki sure that he wanted them to get bored?

Joe snatched up the red-head’s legs and put his ankles into an armlock.

“Trying the tough-guy act, huh, Red-Mech?” Joe asked, swiping a finger down Reki’s foot. 

Reki yelped, jerking his legs. His heart sank as he realized that he could barely move as they all held onto him.

Then came the pinches up his ribs.

“How many ribs do you think you have, Sunshine?” Langa asked as he pinched up and down Reki’s ribs. 

“I-ACK! Stop! Lahahnga! Quit!” Reki gasped, a laugh managing to escape as he pleaded for his ticklish life. 

“Was that a laugh I heard, Ticklee?” Miya asked from his perch on the arm of the love-seat.

“What’s that nickname?” Langa asked as he continued to squeeze up and down Reki’s ribs as if he weren’t completely tormenting him right now.

“Oh you know, like how you’re the tickl-er, that must mean he’s the tickl-ee, right?” Miya asked sweetly.

“Shuhuhut up!” Reki exclaimed. He didn’t know what was worse. Was it the teasing with the actual word, or the fact that Langa seemed to not care about all of this? 

And Joe decided to chime in again, but this time lightly scratching his fingernails up an down Reki’s arches. Just as Langa decided to zero in on his other weak spot too. Well, weaker. 

Now that the truth was out, they would all know that Reki was just one big walking tickle spot.

However, Langa just found that Reki’s underarms were insanely ticklish, just like the bottoms of his feet. Just as Joe had started on his arches, Langa decided to lightly scratch under his arms too, one finger under each as if he were testing the waters.

“AH! OHOHOHOHOKAY! Okay!” Reki barked, his whole body jerking and his head thrown back.

“Wow, okay what?” Langa asked teasingly, stopping his tickling as he realized the hefty reaction from his friend was because of what he and Joe had done.

“Alright, you got mehehe,” Reki said and tugged on his arms.

“You still have four minutes, Firetop,” Shadow chimed in from his spot on the couch.

“How about just one more minute, Shadow? I think we found the answers we were looking for,” Langa said smugly. Shadow nodded and changed the timer. If they were going for the death spots, it would only be fair to Reki for them to shave off a few minutes.

“You’re no fun, Snow.” Miya huffed.

“And you are definitely next, kitty,” Langa said with a pointed look at Miya. He then turned to Joe. “You ready?”

“Of course. I’m waiting for you kids to finish with whatever. ” Joe said before getting back into it.

For one full minute, Reki was in ticklish heaven hell. Langa altered between digging his thumbs into Reki’s armpits and lightly tickling around Reki’s neck and ears while Joe tickled and scratched up and down Reki’s poor defenseless feet.

When the timer ran out, Shadow snatched Miya up and tossed him playfully onto the couch. Cherry snatched Joe by the ear and pulled him away from a giggling mess of a skateboarder. Langa pulled himself off too, but Reki grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled himself closer. 

“Alright, your turn,” Shadow said as he began tickling little Miya to pieces, mainly clawing at and around the little monster’s belly button, getting him cackling in no-time.

“Now I’m in a tickle monster mood, what do you think, Cherry? Like old times?” Joe asked before diving on top of him and digging into the pink-haired man’s hips. Soon, Cherry and Miya’s laughter and giggles filled the living room as Reki curled up in Langa’s lap and watched the scene unfold. Langa ran his fingers through the red hair of his tickled out best friend.

“Thanks for inviting everyone, Langa,” Reki hummed sleepily. “But I’m definitely going to get you back for this one.”

“Alright, Sunshine,” Langa said and fluttered his fingers by Reki’s ear. The red-head squeaked and scrunched his shoulders up protectively.

[daily-dose-of-sweets]

Hello!! We have not interacted in while!! But I love you and I check your blog religiously!!<3 can I request some more lance sweets fluff? Or angst/fluff? Honestly whatever you’re willing to write I’ll be giddy to read. Ty! I love you so much!! I hope you’re doing well!!<3<3

@doctorsteeb

Hi!!! Just let me say I absolutely adore you and it makes me so happy to know someone likes my writing this much! I will totally try and write anything you request! I’ve got a few stories in the works for Sweets now, but here is a little late Christmas story for you! 

Christmas Greetings

Lance Sweets X Reader

Summary: After a year of being in a relationship with Sweets, you’re finally getting the chance to meet his family, or the people at the Jeffersonian in other words. Oh, and it’s at a Christmas party, for some holiday cheer this season.

Words: 2573

---

“Are you sure they’ll like me?” You ask nervously, fingers shifting against the porcelain crockpot in your hands.

Sweets slips an arm around your waist and gives your side a gentle squeeze, “Trust me, they’ll love you.��

You take a deep breath and nod. It doesn’t really ease the nerves buzzing in your chest, but at least he is right there beside you. You and Lance had been in a relationship for a full year now, and you had yet to meet his colleagues somehow. It already feels like you know them though, from all the stories he’s told you, especially his partner Booth, and his wife Doctor Brennan. You’ve wanted to meet them for so long (which lead to quite consistent pestering on your part) but now that you’re finally standing here, your stomach is tying itself in a knot.

Christmas dinner is a huge deal, after all, and so are first impressions. What if they don’t like you? You weren’t in the science profession, so what will you even talk about? Sometimes you struggle to even understand some of the things Lance talks about, so how are you going to talk to the country’s foremost anthropologist?!

“Stop worrying, everything will be okay.”

You jump when you feel Sweets press a soft kiss to your forehead. His touch lingers, sending a soothing warmth flooding through you, finally easing the tension in your shoulders. Your eyes flutter closed as you lean into him, head resting against his shoulder for just a moment. When the two of you draw away, you tilt your chin up and let a smile capture your lips.

“Okay, I’m ready!”

Sweets chuckles and raps his knuckles against the door. Moments later, it swings wide open, letting the glow from inside cascade over you.

“Sweets!” You’re greeted by a man that towers over you, making you slightly shy away, but Lance keeps a steady hand pressed against the small of your back. The man gives your partner a side hug, clapping him on the back before turning to you with a wide smile, “And you must be (Y/n)! We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh really?” You glance over at Lance, who’s looking down with a bashful smile. His cheeks are glowing the softest rose color, which sends your heart thrumming. How can he be so cute?

“Is that Sweets and (Y/n)?” A woman comes rushing up behind the man. She offers you a sweet smile, just as vibrant as his.

Their excitement is so infectious, it fills you to the brim with a fresh energy, and now your own smile is wholly genuine. You weren’t expecting such a warm welcome! Why were you so worried about all of it, these people seem so wonderful.

“(Y/n), this is Booth, my partner at the FBI, and Doctor Brennan, the lead anthropologist at the Jeffersonian,” Sweets introduces you.

The woman, Doctor Brennan, is quick to shake your hand and say, “Please, call me Temperance, and come in. We are almost ready to eat, we have ham, and I also made a tofurkey.”

“Really?!” You gasp excitedly, darting in to follow her to the kitchen and leaving Sweets at the door, “I’ve been looking for a good seasonal tofu recipe for years! Could I possibly, maybe get it from you after dinner?”

You plop down your contribution to the meal and fall into an excited conversation with the scientist. You had no clue she was a vegetarian like you, and it’s not every day you get to talk to another! Sweets and Booth watch the two of you from the entrance, both sporting fond glints in their eyes.

“Thanks for inviting us, Booth,” Sweets hums as he shucks off his winter jacket, “(Y/n)’s been eager to meet the team, especially you and Doctor Brennan.”

The older man shrugs, though he has a pleased smile on his face, “Anytime Sweets! Bones will take any chance to make her ‘meat substitutes’. Remember how excited she got when you told her about it?”

Sweets nods, it is always memorable when Doctor Brennan shows such strong emotions, which wasn’t always often around him. He had even gotten the chance to help her plan the dinner, not that you knew about that. It filled him with warmth to watch you excitedly flutter around the kitchen, and to see how your eyes practically sparkled as you helped the anthropologist set up the dishes.

“You really love her, huh?”

A sigh escapes Sweets as he nods again, “I do. She’s amazing…”

Booth can’t help but feel a small swell of pride in his chest. He’d never admit it, but Sweets was like a little brother to him, and seeing the young psychologist so happy just put a cherry on top of the night he was having.

“Lance!” Sweets looks up at you, a wide grin spreading across his face when he sees you aggressively gesturing him over, all the while bouncing on the balls of your feet, “Come here! You have to check this out!!”

You know it must seem childish to some, but you can’t help but get thrilled over a good meal, especially when it’s vegetarian. You can’t wait for the day that you can make Christmas dinner for your family, spending the whole day cooking and then just being able to enjoy a nice night and some Christmas carols. Sweets would be right there beside you, and maybe a kid or two across the table. A boy and a girl…

“What is it?”

You jump, a fierce blush splashing across your cheeks when you whip around and come face to face with Lance. He’s standing so close, your noses are practically brushing. Your breath catches in your chest, and you spin back around, hoping he doesn’t notice just how red you’ve gotten. Stupid daydreaming, you totally forgot you called him over.

“Mrs. Temperance has this amazing recipe fo-” Your voice breaks when Sweets presses in close behind you, arms snaking around your waist. You clear your throat nervously, “-for um, for vegetarian casserole. She says it’s really good, so I was thinking I could, I could try making it sometimes!”

“That sounds wonderful,” Sweets hums, the words vibrating through his chest and against your back.

It feels like your entire face is on fire now, to the point where you feel like you need to call the fire department. There was more you were going to say, but it’s like all your thoughts have been put in a mixer and are now scattered throughout your mind.

“Stop torturing the poor girl, Sweets,” a smooth voice scolds from a few feet away.

You glance up to see a beautiful brunette with tanned skin, and right beside her stands a slightly shorter man with some of the curliest hair you’ve ever seen. You swat at Lance’s hands and twist away from his grip, embarrassment flaring deep in your chest. Nothing you could say would help the situation, so you just wave at them weakly.

“Angela, Hodgins, this is (Y/n),” Sweets says as he pulls you back to his side with a cheeky grin, “(Y/n), this is Angela Montenegro, our forensic artist. And this is Jack Hodgins, our entomologist.”

“And botanist, mineralogist, palynologist, chemist, among other things,” Hodgins continues with a casual shrug.

Angela elbows him in the ribs sharply, not letting her glittering expression fall for even a second. “Excuse my husband, he’s just really passionate about his work,” she chirps, “It’s really a pleasure to meet you. We’ve heard a lot about you from our dear Sweets here.”

“So I’ve heard,” you muse softly with a giggle, “It's nice to meet you too, by the way! Lance tells me you're also a traditional artist?”

You spend the night making conversation with all of Lance’s friends. You meet Cam and her partner, Arastoo, who are so lovely and gentle to you. You ask Arastoo all about his beliefs and how he came to work in forensics, and you even talk to Cam about her daughter. You also get to talk to some of the interns at the Jeffersonian. Each conversation just pulls you in, even if you don’t understand everything they’re saying. You’re literally talking to the leaders of forensic sciences, who wouldn’t take the chance to ask them all the questions and praise them for their work! Even through dinner, you share a quiet conversation with one intern, Finn, about his time before coming to Washington DC. Afterwards, you all take to lounging in the living room to enjoy some eggnog and story telling.

“So how did you and Sweets meet, huh?” Angela asks as she plops down next to you and Sweets on the couch.

The entire team falls quiet, all eyes immediately set intently on you. You shy back into Lance's embrace, which makes him chuckle and hold you tighter. Was your story really that interesting to all these people? Really?

“Do you want me to tell them?” Sweets asks you quietly, fingers brushing against the skin of your shoulder.

“Yeah, your memory’s better anyways.”

“He has to learn all that psychobabble somehow,” Booth jests from across the room, earning a disapproving look from his wife but some amused chuckles from the rest of the guests.

Sweets just rolls his eyes, easily brushing the jab off as he starts your story, “So, we actually met at a christmas party, just like this one. A mutual friend invited us and we started talking, and things just kind of...took off from there.”

You can’t help the snort of laughter that breaks from your lips when Lance trails off. He perks an eyebrow up, peering down at you in confusion, which only serves to send you into a bigger fit of giggles.

“What?” He asks, voice pitching up.

“Nothing, nothing,” you chortle, pressing a hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter, “You just left out a small tidbit. A pretty important tidbit.”

“Oh, did he?”

The room waits for you to calm down, but when you do, you just stare intently at Sweets with a raised eyebrow. Did he actually forget the beginning of the story? And right after you praised him for his memory! You wait for just a moment longer, the words perched on your tongue, waiting to see if he gets there on his own. It’s only when you see his eyes blow wide and his entire face flush red that you let the words tumble from your lips.

“What he failed to mention, is that we didn’t just meet and start talking. No, no.” Now it’s your turn to grin cheekily, “We met under the mistletoe, by chance, and you all know how the tradition goes. We started talking after that and found that we actually had a bit in common. It was about a month later that our mutual friend decided to share with me what actually happened that night.”

It begins to dawn on some people what you’re alluding to. You can hear some giggles ring out behind you from who you’re sure is Angela and the other women. Sweets is getting darker by the second, even his ears are tinged with that appealing rosy glow. This is totally payback for his teasing earlier.

“So, this is how the story actually goes, according to our friend,” you finally continue, “Apparently, I caught Lance’s eye when I got to the party. Back then though, he was a bit shier, and didn’t want to talk to me without a reason, sooo….he and our friend came up with a plan to have us meet under the mistletoe ‘accidentally’.” You break out some air quotes for the last word to stress just how silly the story is.

“Sweets, you dog,” Hodgins laughs.

“I never thought Sweets would come up with such a devious plan,” Temperance states amusedly.

“Alright, alright,” Sweets waves his hands in the air, looking thoroughly flustered much to your pleasure, “In my defense, she looked absolutely beautiful that night. Anyone would have been intimidated.”

Something warm and fuzzy fills your chest as you tuck yourself back into Lance’s side. To think, you almost didn’t go to that party last year. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have met the most amazing person in your life.

“I can’t say I mind too much,” you chirp, eyes closing as you rest your head on his chest like a content cat, “I think I’m pretty lucky to be the one who caught his eye.”

“You guys are disgustingly adorable,” Angela giggles next to you.

Maybe you are. You had never felt such a deep sense of affection for anyone, that is, until you met Lance. Now that you know what it feels like, you can’t help but return it full force, with every ounce of your being. He’s just been so good to you and has lifted you up in dark times over the past year. You couldn’t ask for anyone better, because you’re absolutely sure such a person doesn’t exist.

The rest of the night is spent telling stories and sharing sentiments. You stay tucked in Lance’s side the entire time, just enjoying the jovial tone and the sound of his laughter. When midnight rolls around, the party begins to wind down, filled with yawns and mumbled goodbyes as people take their leave. You and Sweets are some of the last to go, with Seeley and Temperance trailing you to the door.

“Thank you so much, again, for inviting us,” you murmur as you give the older woman a tight hug.

“Of course! You are welcome here anytime, and if you ever need anything, do not be afraid to call.”

“Yah, we’re always here to help. Though I’m sure Sweets here would do about anything for you,” Booth chuckles as he pulls away from giving Lance a hug.

Sweets gives his head a little shake and takes up his place next to you, “Thanks you guys, we really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.” Booth gives a little wave, “You two have a good night. Oh, and you might want to take a look up,” he chimes right before closing the door.

Your eyes dart straight up at that, landing on a small plant hanging from the doorway. Breathless laughter shakes your chest, pale clouds lifting from your lips in the cold night air. It’s mistletoe.

“Did you do this?” You look at Lance, who has one of the smuggest smiles that you’ve ever seen on him.

He gives you a shrug and draws you closer by a hand on your hip, “Maybe…”

You shake your head at his antics, but you can’t ignore the butterflies that swirl around in your chest. Even after a year, he still makes your heart race.

“Well then, don’t leave me hanging.”

Lance doesn’t hesitate to cup your face, tilting your chin up so he can capture your lips in a sweet kiss. For just a moment, you forget the cold, you forget how late it is and how tired you are. All you can feel is the warmth of his body next to yours, the thrumming of his heart under your palm. Even when the kiss comes to an end, the two of you stay close, foreheads barely touching.

“I love you, (Y/n),” he murmurs oh so softly, for only you to hear.

“I love you too, Lance. Merry Christmas.”

Again, I love you all so much, and I hope your Christmas was absolutely amazing! Send in a request and I’ll be sure to try and write it!

[arhvste]

next stop iwa-chan!

“i traded a thousands nights, for just one with you, i been catching feelings over you and i hope you catch them too, i been going crazy over you and i hope you’re crazy too”

CHAPTER CONTINUES UNDER THE CUT

the boy was good in the kitchen to y/n’s surprise as he helped expertly cut vegetables and help cook them off while y/n boiled the noodles and fried the meat.

even though it was something that should've been a normal thing to do, both y/n and iwaizumi couldn't help but feel butterflies inside at the thought of doing something domestic together in the comfort of one of their own homes. the idea of what it would be like to be married even entered iwaizumi’s head for a brief 5 minutes before he shook it off and reminded himself that they were taking things slow.

y/n on the other hand knew that iwaizumi had wanted to take things slow because of a previous bad relationship. she didn't know the ins and outs of what had happened and she didn't want to pressure him to tell her, but she too was beginning to struggle with suppressing her feelings. she would tell herself it was nothing more than a crush but she knew she’d be lying. she genuinely liked the boy and she was in deep, not that she’d ever admit it out loud though.

40 minutes later and the cooking was done as the two admired their work.

y/n laughed as she brought the crockery over to the dining table.

“this was a team effort, if it tastes bad that's all on you.”

“this was a team effort, if it tastes bad that's all on you.”

they sat down and said their thanks before beginning to eat.

iwaizumi was warm on the inside. eating something they had made together only made his heart pick up the pace a little.

he stopped to glance at the girl in front of him who looked as if she was enjoying her meal.

he’d called her pretty before just as a general compliment as form of teasing but she really was beautiful. the fact that he began to like her even before he had a clue of what she looked like fuelled his fondness of her.

it wasn't even just her appearance that had him hooked, y/n wasn't like any other girl he’d met before. he was an attractive guy, he knew this, he had girls approach him in the past but none of them really took his interest and iwaizumi found himself having to consciously speak politely to them. it wasn't like that with y/n though. she could take his banter and give it back just as quick, she wasn't judgemental and didn't push him to talk to her about things he didn't want to.

“i know you said you wanted something pretty to look at but now you’re just straight up staring.”

iwaizumi snapped out of his gaze and locked eyes with a smirking y/n.

“can’t help it when you look the way you do.”

y/n let out an airy laugh as she began to clear up the table and leave everything in the kitchen as they finished, iwaizumi following behind carrying other pieces to bring back to the kitchen.

“we can just chat on the couch or something, i don't know what’s on tv right now, netflix won't work cause the wi fi’s down.”

“so no netflix and chill then?”

y/n turned to the boy and gave him a serious look.

“best behaviour remember?”

“yes ma’am.”

the two sat on the spacious couch and relaxed into the soft furniture.

a casual conversation picked up between the two and they found themselves laughing and chatting carelessly as the hours drained away. time would fly past whenever the pair were together, both of them secretly wishing the hours were longer.

it was now 11:48pm and the atmosphere was nowhere near empty between the two. without even realising, they’d inched closer and closer as they spoke until y/n found her knees touching iwaizumi’s. she smiled as she noticed. she naturally gravitated towards his personality and now it seemed she naturally gravitated towards him physically too.

“what are you smiling about?”

“you.”

“me?”

“yeah you. you make me smile.”

iwaizumi blushed slightly at the girl’s blunt words.

even though they hadn't even known each other for even a month, iwaizumi felt like he knew the girl, like he’d been with her for years, she was so easy to be around and let his guard drop a little.

“hey thanks.”

y/n raised an eyebrow and looked up.

“for what?”

iwaizumi sighed quietly and took y/n’s hands into his own.

“for being patient. i know i said i wanted to take things slow but you really do make me happy. my last relationship was... difficult. it didn't end well and it was toxic from the start i should've seen it coming. you make me want to give relationships a second chance.”

the girl gently squeezed iwaizumi’s hands as he looked into her pretty eyes.

“again, i won't ask you what happened, i’ll let you tell me in your own time, but for what its worth, i will never make things difficult for you.”

to this, iwaizumi laughed.

“it’s a little late for that y/n.”

“how?”

the boy looked away before edging towards y/n a little closer.

“because, all these emotions you make me feel, they’re almost foreign to me, it’s difficult for me to understand them.”

so that was it.

“if i’m the one making it difficult, then let me help make things easier.”

y/n pulled herself into iwaizumi’s lap and cupped his face while staring into his wide eyes softly. she ghosted her fingers over his cheek bones and hummed in satisfaction at his defined features. Iwaizumi’s hands hand snaked around her waist securing her in her position.

y/n sighed lightly before leaning in and grazing her lips over iwaizumi’s tickling his slightly. sick of holding back iwaizumi couldn't take the anticipation any longer. swiftly removing one arm from around her waist, he cupped one hand on y/n’s cheek and pulled her down on to him pressing a firm and desperate kiss to her. she gasped in surprise and iwaizumi took this opportunity to deepen the kiss with nothing but a need for y/n to feel the emotions he had been holding back from her.

y/n moved her hands and wrapped her arms around his neck as the kiss turned lazy but still full of emotion. a soft, pure love was translated through the kiss as y/n began to pull away to catch her breath only to press soft and delicate butterfly kisses to the boys face.

“did that make things any easier?”

“i was trying to be on my best behaviour and you ruined it.”

y/n hummed as she pressed one last kiss to him before resting her head into his chest.

“you’re glad i did really.”

iwaizumi wrapped his arms around y/n pulling her closer into him.

“that did make things a little easier though.”

y/n looked up and smiled.

“good. sometimes i’m not sure if i’m always getting what i’m feeling across to you properly, that seemed like a good way to do it.”

“if that’s your way of telling me your emotions i may have to act even more insensitive.”

the girl laughed and playfully slapped the boy’s arm before cuddling back into his broad chest.

“minus 2 y/n points.”

“i like you. and not even just a little bit anymore.”

yeah, the two wanted to take things slow but maybe bokuto and the other’s were right. if it was meant to be then things just couldn't be forced to slow down. y/n and iwaizumi had crossed paths in such a spontaneous way, neither could even think to prepare for what emotions would flood when they had started to get involved with one another.

“i won't ask you to be my girlfriend, not just yet, there's still things i want to learn about you, for you to learn about me, but believe when i say i want to be serious about you, i want to try with you, i want you. just give me a bit more time but i promise some day soon, you’ll be my girl but i want to be the best i can for you and right now i’m still figuring things out. i want you when i’m happy with myself.”

y/n couldn't help but let the glowing smile on her face break out.

“a little selfish aren't we?”

“yeah i am, only for you though.”

y/n loosely wrapped her arms around iwaizumi’s neck before looking into his sincere and genuine eyes.

“well, when you’re happy with yourself and have things figured out, i’m yours for the taking, until then, let’s figure this all out together at our own pace. it’s clear neither of us want to force things to go at a slow pace but naturally i agree it’s best we learn a little more about each other before making anything official. i like you and i know you like me, we have all the time in the world to stick a label with commitments on us so i don't mind taking things as they come.”

iwaizumi let out a sigh of relief as he pulled y/n into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“you know, maybe i am glad shittykawa decided to bother you at the train station that day.”

“yeah? i’m glad too.”

enough had been said between the pair. they weren't ready for an actual relationship just yet, but iwaizumi felt excited about the idea of eventually getting to call y/n his officially. all he had to do was get rid of his insecurities and doubts from his last relationship so he could be the best version of himself for the girl who makes him want to do that. he had spent hours wondering if y/n felt the same unexplainable emotions as he did and tonight he knew he could rest easy knowing that she was in just as deep as him.

he was catching feelings over her and he’d hoped she’d caught them too.

whatever stars had heard his wishes, he said a silent thanks as the two drifted off to sleep there on y/n’s couch limbs tangled together.

this was only the start, but both of them slept with a few butterflies in their stomachs as they dreamt about what was yet to come, pulled in close together as they slept under the clear twinkling stars above the skylight in y/n’s apartment.

-

next stop iwa-chan!

iwaizumi haijime x reader

masterlist

an - both y/n and iwa are in deep

akaashi’s playgroup || two pretty setters and co

part 17 - admit it

part 18 - i hope u catch them too

part 19 - whatever we are

PLEASE SEND AN ASK TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST

taglist : @crushingonsuga @bloody-bella @totorosleaff @kageyamasbabygorl @cuddlyroger @hidden-otaku-stuff @vanilla-beanzz @macchiatoast @kac-chowsballs @anime-read-write-repeat @missalienqueen @bbkiyoomi @toaster-stick @nerdynstoned @otaku-fangirlse @the-third-wall @nekomateammanager @bokutoichigo @killlerqween @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @doggonudez @iwaizluv @angrylittlezizi @softmultistan @lifesciencesbois @itsmattsunshinehere @haikyus1mp @bringmelily @valrubiii @saturnfarie @oyaoyaoya-chan @ack-aashi @weebymaria @introvertatitsfinest @rd-crew @strawberryyymiaa @a-fucking-simp @chokomoko @iwachanswh0re @maybesoph @leviathans-watching @loser-keiji

[dinosaurtsukki]

BSD x university au hc’s | pt. 1

hi i am an absolute slut for university au’s in case you couldn’t tell so i just had to write some for my first BSD post. also this is going to be slightly ooc because i am a crackhead

check out pt. 2 here

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

Atsushi Nakajima:

he’s definitely the kind of guy who still had no idea what he’d take up in university even after he was accepted 

either wants to not major in anything at all or just major in everything because he’s also scared that he’ll eventually not like what he’s majoring in

so for his first two years you’d probably find him jumping around different classes 

also he still calls the professors ‘teacher ____’ like a high school student and everyone laughs but thinks its cute

eventually, because of his *cough cough* traumatic childhood he decided he wanted to help children by becoming a guidance counselor

he ends up taking Child Psychology and bOY does he love it so much

well he actually just loves all of his classes because Learning is Fun

although because of his *cough cough* traumatic childhood he’s the one in class that people are all like 👀👀

atsushi: *talking about children’s responses to fear and emotional abuse by talking about his own emotional abuse*

the professor, under their breath: wait, do you need help?? 

i can definitely see atsushi as a Roommate of the Year kind of guy. he’s just so polite and tidy with his room. also he’d definitely be the type to take care of plants inside the dorm room and put them on the windowsill

in terms of extracurricular activities, he’s definitely a sporty type of person so i can see him joining a varsity (something like Frisbee because he likes things that go whoooosh) but he’d probably join a student org that does stuff like community outreach

because of all this, he is a Very Busy Boy but his friends do manage to drag him out to parties once in a while

although atsushi would probably sit in a corner and drink only one beer for the entire night 

he’s notorious for helping drunk people though. most of the time he’ll be putting blankets on people and making them drink water

if he knew how to drive he’d definitely be the designated driver

Akiko Yosano:

omg i’m so excited for this i love yosano so much 

she’s the friend who’s just effortlessly awesome all around and a fricking MED STUDENT to top it all off

she gets a bit too excited when it’s dissection time but it’s alright she has good intentions 

probably the only one in your class who doesn’t go and throw up whenever a cadaver is being used (actually do they still use cadavers i have absolutely no idea)

she also interns at the local hospital as part of her degree program but OMG yosano will not stop telling disgusting stories about the patients she’s had

everyone: *eating lunch peacefully in the dining hall*

yosano: so i pulled a guy’s toe out of a meat grinder this morning

everyone: sHUT UP

for some reason she still has a social life despite being a med student and it’s one of the mysteries of life i guess

yosano LOVES going out clubbing on friday nights. if you have the fortune of being her roommate, be prepared for make-overs and being dragged with her out to the city

she’s such a social butterfly like at every bar you go to, the bartender knows her name and her regular order. she’d probably end the night befriending a couple more people

also she’s amazing at karaoke i kid you not

as for extracurricular life, i don’t think yosano’s the type to join an org that’s related to her major cause like ‘what’s the point?’

instead, she’d probably go wherever her friends are because to her, she’ll enjoy any activity as long as she’s with people she loves

but when it comes to her own interests, i can definitely see yosano as someone who loves the outdoors, especially hiking after having to be cooped up inside clinics

it just makes her love and appreciate the value of life more

Kunikida Doppo:

ok, i KNOW he was a math teacher before he joined the ADA bUT i can’t help but think of him as a political science major ??

i can definitely imagine kunikida as someone who’d want to become a lawyer someday and would take political science as a pre-law

he does like the idea of following in the footsteps of great men but omg kunikida would absolutely hate the exclusivity of white, male political theorists

he is such a good student except for when his professor has some sketchy values then kunikida will !! fight him !! every !! chance !! he gets !!

raises his hand constantly to contradict his professor if they even tRY to defend thomas hobbes and authoritarianism

but other than that he’s probably the most diligent student out there. kunikida genuinely enjoys doing the readings for class and writing essays

also has such a balanced schedule that he can make time for anything and everything

except for when his friends dazai drag him out to parties and get a social life

despite how rigid he is, kunikida has absolutely no problem helping out others with learning. he often holds study sessions in his dorm room or in the library before exams

he also likes to volunteer in tutorial centers because he’s just like that

OH OH some of his ‘students’ suggested that he make crash-course type videos for political science and it took some convincing but eventually kunikida decided to go for it

he’s not the most tech savvy or photogenic person so it took some time for him to get used to things but after seeing all the comments from people who benefited from it, he decided to continue with his crash course videos

whether or not he’s the best or worst roommate is completely up to you. if you like someone who’ll basically micromanage your life from your daily schedule to your study habits, you’ll absolutely love him

he doesn’t like to go out for parties that much but he will if his friends convince him enough (kunikida’s an utter lightweight when it comes to drinking though)

Osamu Dazai: 

i genuinely have a hard time thinking about what this guy’s major would be and tbh even his friends have been wondering what dazai’s major was for TWO YEARS

that’s because he keeps taking the most random ass classes like Basic Pottery or Intro to Molecular Biology in the same semester

idk how he even plans to graduate at this point

although to be honest, i can definitely see him as a philosophy major despite the fact that i LOATHE every male classmate i’ve had who’s a philosophy major (idk they’re always so condescending)

i feel like dazai’s just taking that because it’s somewhat challenging for him but to him, university life is just more of crazy experiences rather than learning

and oh my god has he gotten up to the weirdest shit

the number of times he had to climb gates or sleep on benches at three a.m. is too many to count

dazai also loves volunteering for random things like people’s thesis projects (once, he offered to be a snake venom tester to a bio student and they told him that was illegal) or even being the school’s mascot in games

also he and kunikida probably met each other in freshman year at an intro to philosophy class and oh my god did dazai get on his nerves

what’s worse was that they had to work on a group project together and dazai was MIA most of the time and it drove kunikida crazy

that is until dazai showed up last minute to pull an all-nighter with him for their paper and kunikida just couldn’t help but be impressed by dazai’s ~~intellect~~

they don’t exactly get along but they do have some mutual respect for each other enough to work on projects well

omg if dazai ends up being your roommate I WISH YOU LUCK 

the first time you walked into your room dazai was microwaving a metal bowl and you had to run to stop it in time

also he has a tendency to wear his headphones and sing his favorite double suicide song out loud 

kunikida please come pick him up

Edogawa Ranpo:

i love this one man so much i swear to god 

ranpo is definitely the kind of person who just didn’t like school so when college applications came around he was just like ‘why bother though ???’

his friends did convince him by saying that he wouldn’t have to do subjects he wouldn’t like and just focus on his major (this is a lie btw)

is it a surprise that ranpo would choose forensic science ?? NO

he thinks its cool that he can learn about something he’s already super good at and it just gets him really pumped up to show off how good he is

LOVES getting praised by his classmates and professors

ranpo probably thinks lectures are boring as hell so sometimes he just,,, doesn’t,,, come,,, to class

if attendance IS required you can bet he’s bringing snacks and game consoles with him and sitting WAAAAY in the back of the room

Mukbang at a Lecture Hall with Edogawa Ranpo

his classmates think its cute that he puts on glasses before doing exams or answering his prof’s questions as a way to hype himself up

everyone calls him ‘The Greatest Detective’ and ranpo LOVES IT

despite that, he’s not too overly social he just likes being with his close group of friends UwU

he’s also someone you can drag around to places like the fair or an aquarium, but he’s not into clubbing or drinking for that matter

he DOES enjoy seeing his friends get drunk and mess with them though

ranpo isn’t into joining student organizations BUT he gets scouted a lot by detective agencies and he likes interning for them

i’m saying detective agencies because police are gross

ranpo did end up joining a baking club with the assumption that he would just be EATING the cake and not BAKING the cake

yeah he was just there for less than half a semester

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

taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @tpwkatsumu @laure-chan​

[hanawrites404]

Wynne's Diary - Celebration with Asra

@sweetalnazar

Today was a day to revel and celebrate, to enjoy the peaceful Vesuvian night sky conferred upon us and the pleasant wind bussing our faces and enlivening our minds. And what's the occasion you ask? Well, today was my and Asra's anniversary of our first meeting, and also the day we both got married. So not only it was our wedding anniversary, but also the anniversary of the first time we saw each other's stupid happy faces, and it all started when we were just kids.

We were so.....innocent at that time. It all felt like a dream remembering the memory, maybe because it seemed too perfect to be true. Even our wedding was like a utopia, with him in a stunning white dress which matched his snowy hair and golden skin, while I wore the colour of passionate red, my face covered with a lace veil as blush dominated my cheeks. We said our vows to each other, promising to never break apart and protect, as our kiss locked both of us together, and since then, our hearts had started beating for one another.

"I hope he remembers it" Said the me who was sitting near the shop's counter, waiting for a certain magician with a silly black hat. He was gone to one of his trips again, leaving me and Ichigo alone and longing for his arrival. He had announced that he was going to come after a week, and that's today, and he sure was taking his sweet time. Ugh, did this had to be on our anniversary????

I sighed and rested my cheek on my hand, my stare getting tired of the door and slowly slipping to the knickknacks placed all around collected through time and care. Asra wasn't a person to be highly organized, but he did like everything to be clean and gleaming from polish. The way I have seen him tidying the trinkets was similar to a mother bathing her child. With gentle care and patience, and not go too harsh over the delicate surface.

Asra was known to be a thoughtful guy. A guy who puts his loved ones' troubles over his own. He is as nimble as a swan, but also have the mischief and rascality of a fellow monkey. The mystic novelty in his amethyst eyes and his satiny locks of white hair hems his handsome face so faultlessly. His lips plump and mellow, and the slight dimple on his cheek when he smiles compliments his soft nature. And his slender body which did not lack vitality and determination yet was warm to touch as feeling the softest of essences.

And me knowing him for so many years. And maybe.......how he had made a place in my heart so effortlessly by his compassion, his receptive nature, and his soft affection accompanied with luscious kisses and solacing hugs I receive almost every day,

Must be the reason why I fell in love with such a dumbhead.

"Honey, I'm home" I heard a very familiar voice. I straight away got up from my seat and walked around the counter to greet my husband. His dearest familiar was dangling around his neck, her sleek body relaxed as she looked at me with her ruby orbs.

"Home!" I heard the sweet snake exclaim.

"Hello Faust, hello Asra" I greeted with a small smile on my lips.

"Hello, sweetheart" Asra smoothly wrapped his arm around my waist, only to pull me closer and place a small sensual kiss upon my lips. His hot breath tickled my skin and I felt a rush of recollections because damn...I missed him.

"How was your trip honey?" I whispered to him, my hand instinctively reaching out to curl his hair around one of my fingers as I glanced into those mesmerising eyes.

"Wonderful. But that doesn't mean I didn't miss you very badly" Asra placed another kiss on my forehead, his hand still on my waist as his fingers gently massaged my side, while I lightly quivered.

"Very badly? Well, you deserved it. It's your fault that you didn't take me with you" I smirked and crossed my arms, shifting my weight on one leg.

"I know Dear.....I know. But I had to go alone. I had a reason to not bring you there. Also, it was a very long travel, and you know when you can't travel when you are-"

"On my period, yeah. It hella hurts. Good thing it ended today. Also, you came back" I shrugged and nudged his shoulder.

"So! Since you are finally home, why don't you go upstairs and take a bath? You fucking stink" I smiled at him sweetly.

Asra chuckled and patted my head, muttering 'sure' as he removed his satchel from his shoulder to place it on the counter, and removed his shoes to move up the stairs. I watched him walking till he was finally out of sight. For his return and surprise secret anniversary gift, I had prepared his favourite food and set up a dinner with belladonnas and vanilla-scented candles.

I hope he likes it. That's honestly all that I wanted from him, along with remembering the special day of course. Because I was not a person to celebrate anniversaries with such enthusiasm, but this time I decided to change my mind as I felt that this day won't disappoint me enough to leave me vacant and bored.

However, who knows if he would remember. It happened in such a blink of the time anyway. And we all are humans with limited memory at the end of the day. And forgetting has nothing to be heartbroken about. Because if you do, it's like you are blaming the nature of your kind just because they couldn't remember your birthday.

But.......damn......

Dissatisfaction sure is a deep word and it does feel deep.

"Mmm...what's that smell? It's amazing" With a towel around his shoulders, Asra descended the stairs. He was wearing a new pair of casual clothes, the droplets at the end of his curls slightly shimmered under the light. Faust slithered down with him who was also as wet as her master from the bath and she quickly climbed around my leg to stop near my nose, waiting for me to give her the pets.

I softly giggled and caressed her cheek, and slowly my finger made its way onto her chin as my nail gently scratched it.

"You missed me?" I bashfully asked her.

"Blueberry!" She called out in reply.

I genuinely laughed at what she said. Blueberry was a nickname Faust gave me because of my deep blue hair. And being truthful, it was adorable because I was glad that a sweetheart like her adored me, as much I adored her.

"Oh...Wynne!" A surprised voice of Asra reached my ears from the dining table. I internally grinned since I already had guessed the reason for his outcry. I got up, Faust now resting on my shoulders as I made my way towards him, a tiny beam finding its way to my lips.

"You like it?" I asked him, patiently waiting for his response.

"I......Is this for me???" He sat down on the chair, his mouth agape and watering a bit. front of him, blue-tongued skink, hot and ready with different sauces and condiments evenly spread on the meat and garnished with coriander and star anise. Made by yours truly, obviously~

"Of course it's for you, silly. Who else eats such a bizarre thing other than you?" I playfully mocked him, crossing my arms.

"It's.....It looks delicious, Love. You really must have worked hard making this for me" his eyes shifted to me, hitting me with nostalgia again. Because he looked just like how I met him for the first time. An excited, inquisitive and sweet innocent child.

I blinked at his inference and chuckled, shaking my head lightly.

"No dear. Not at all. It wasn't a burden, except for realising that I killed a harmless skink and ruined its plans of becoming successful and achieve something in life" I inaudibly whispered the last part.

"BUT! Preparing the dish was easy enough. It didn't take me much time and skill to make it of your preference" I waved my hand in dismissing.

"I see.....I....thank you, Wynne. I appreciate it. Though you didn't have to" a timid fluster danced on his cheeks.

"Oh shut up now. Take a bite and tell me how is it before it runs cold" I told him, snorting.

"O-Oh yes. Sorry" he finally took the trouble to lift his fork and cut a bite out of his food to keep it in his mouth. He chewed properly, savouring the taste on his tongue, letting the texture touch his throat and spice and juices sink in. He moaned from enjoyment, closing his eyes. Assuming it to be a positive reaction, I smiled from satisfaction myself.

"Amazing....just amazing, Wynne. It's very scrumptious and well-done. And you cooked it just how I like. You are the best. Thank you for the food" he grinned happily at me.

"Of course, sweetheart. Your welcome. If you are happy, then I am happy too" I placed a hand near my chest, smiling thankfully.

My eyes had nothing but love and care for him, and never anything else. One of my goals is that I always keep him satisfied and without any deprivation of needs and that he never feels left out and unattended while I'm around. As his wife, it was like my duty to keep him happy. I call it a duty, not because it's like a compelled action or service, but because I'm going to be loyal and wholehearted to him, just like he was committed to me.

And fuck, I loved him so much. And I'm so glad we both met out of an immature headbutt.

"But....may I ask you something?" Asra spoke.

"Yeah?" I replied.

"What's the occasion for preparing all of this? My favourite flowers, my favourite food. Vanilla candles. Everything I like is here. Is today something important?"

I brutally froze. The question he asked had not only shattered all of my further anticipations but also unintentionally panged the beating organ in my chest hard. Did.....did he not know what today was? Did he forget it? Out of anyone I ever knew, I never expected in my fantasies ever that Asra would be the one to meet my scepticism. It....it was terrible, and the sorrow I felt was indescribable.

Yet I didn't show my immense setback on my face or in my voice, as I smiled brightly at him and answered.

"No occasion at all, sweetie. I just wanted to please you. You know, I just thought about preparing it for you. There is no particular reason at all" I deported again, trying hard to not let my true feelings slip out in any way. And luckily, Asra didn't see anything. He just nodded and continued eating, and seeing the slight bit of chance I ran away upstairs as quick as I can, Faust slipping from my shoulders and landing on the table.

"Blueberry??" She called out, but I didn't want to reply, definitely not with the emotional state I was in. I immediately rushed to the balcony and stopped near the rails. The wind rushed towards me like a sprinting wolf. It whooshed through my hair, it hit my eyes, and it dried my lips. I felt awful, but it calmed me down. I was feeling much better because the pain in my heart was replaced by dryness, and the tears that came from my eyes weren't due to melancholy but due to lack of moisture. It was horrible, but I felt at peace. And much more dead.

"Wynne!" I felt footsteps behind me, but I didn't dare to turn back. It was over for me, it was all over. I didn't want to see his face nor I wanted to cry in the middle and make him even more nervous and guilty. I just.....wanted to disappear and pretend nothing bad like this ever happened. And the dream was a dream, and not a reality. That I and Asra never met, and never did we marry and kiss under the stars. We never did. Because I never was there to bump him on the head or to scream on his face that I fucking fell in love with him-

"This is for you" I felt him taking my hand, but after that, I felt something foreign on my palm. It gave the impression of a small box, as small as a ball to be true. I wondered what the hell it might be, so I finally turned to meet his eyes, and he did nothing except stroke my cheek and whisper huskily in my ear to open the box.

I trembled again, but obeyed him without protesting and started to tear the purple wrapping. I was quick because I didn't want to take too much of both of our time. Now, what would he had brought for me after literally forgetting the day of our wedding I wondered.

But turns out.....he never did.

On my palm and the remnants of the paper lied a big jewel of blue diamond. It was brand new and it sparkled enough to lit both of our faces under the night. The transparent gem shone like the full moon after twilight, and every edge was polished to perfection with each cut precisely and delicately done. It was like a very ornate mirror because I swear I saw myself inside the stone.

What was on my palm was one of the best handiwork I had ever seen, and it now rightfully belonged to me.

"Asra......This!"

"Happy Anniversary...Wynne Alnazar...." He came closer to me and lightly placed a kiss on my cheek.

Before he could speak even one syllable or move any muscle, I lunged onto him and embraced his body close. Asra gasped a bit, but he was not stunned at all. He enveloped me back, slightly lifting me and burying his face in my neck as he inhaled my scent and peppered my soft spots with kisses, his hands stroking my back and my hips.

"You remembered......You remembered!" I breathed out.

"Of course I remembered. It's our anniversary, Dear. I would never forget it. Because I love you, Wynne. I love you so much, and I will never dare to forget how I met the love of my life" he hugged me even tighter.

"Thank you, Asra......Thank you.....I love you so much too!" I finally broke down in his arms. I couldn't control the overwhelming emotions anymore as I spilt them out in the form of tears, but he was there for me, and I had nothing to hide from him anymore.

Words really cannot describe how delighted I was feeling. But I sure can tell one thing, that I did make a new dream with him. But it was not the jewel which made me feel so ecstatic like this, it was him, and his idiotic self only. A whole new dream where me and him together, celebrate and reminisce the day we tied knots, the day we entwined our hands. And the day we almost broke our heads at the first meeting.

Because today......was the day we breathe together, live together, and love together.

Till no one does us apart.

[sheadre]

Aurora Borealis (Jiang Cheng x Reader) Part 8

Summary: Zhu Ran'En (Reader) the imperial princess, was sent into exile for a crime she did not commit. Meeting Jiang Wanyin, the Yunmeng Jiang sect’s leader was not just a chance meeting. Their fates were written in the stars however, her relations to the royal family will never let her live in peace. How will she manage to save the kingdom while trying to keep Jiang Wanyin away from the snakes of the royal family?

Word count: 2955

Warnings: fluff, romance, idiots in love

Previous Chapter - Series Masterlist

Watching Jiang Wanyin struggle with the books on his head while he was trying to bow was hilarious. Years of torture turned into delight for you in a few hours as you taught the sect leader. You could understand the sadistic glint in the eunuchs’ eyes when they were teaching you the perfect manners of a person of court. Maybe that was how they paid back fate for making them miserable in many ways. You never understood why some royals were treating them badly when they were doing everything to help them and make their lives more convenient. Maybe it was only you who tried to treat people like they were people. Your attention quickly turned back to the sect leader who was red in the face from trying to maintain the perfect position. Stepping lightly over to him, you gently touched his lower back pressing on it lightly.

“Sect leader, when bowing to the emperor, your back should be straighter but your posture much lighter like you’re honored to meet his highness” you spoke softly.

“That sounds completely contradictory, dianxia” Wanyin seemed to spit your title out venomously when he was annoyed with you but it was only a momentary thing. The mischievous smile that over took your features visibly unnerved him.

“It is just the beginning of your lessons, yet you’re already complaining?” you asked as you let him straighten up. “Do you have any idea how I was punished for misplacing a tea cup on the table?”

“The imperial court must be hellish” he grumbled making you chuckle before your expression turned solemn. You have no idea, A-Cheng… you have no idea… Thinking of all those times you had to endure your cousin trying to hurt you or embarrass you in front of the emperor. You never found it humiliating to beg the emperor to let you clear your name before he decided on anything though. It always irked Zhu HuaJin that she couldn’t grasp you and get you thrown out of the palace. The last time she got on your nerves was when you truly showed her how vicious and ruthless your revenge was. It burnt her much as you got her lover executed officially. That man was a fool to leave his traces wherever he went to do his shady businesses, you only needed to make those traces visible for everyone else.

Soon after Jiang Cheng finally managed to give you a satisfactory bow that wouldn’t be frowned upon by the eunuchs and other royals, you took him to the main hall. Early in the morning, you asked the servants to set up a large table before you gave each one a small card with different titles of the court from the emperor to the lower ranked officials. Wei Wuxian of course took the place of the emperor once he realized what you were preparing and leaned back in his seat with a large grin on his face.

Wanyin looked at you dumbfounded as you led him to the side and told him to watch carefully. Organizing such a lesson was fun, making it into a game was even more fun. There was a cart filled with empty plates and trays each one chosen by you. You made careful work of writing different kinds of dishes on them so Wanyin would be able to make a difference. Your eyes glanced at him playfully as you glided through the hall, your steps similar to dance moves.

“Watch carefully while I demonstrate everything” you spoke up before grabbing the first dish. “Each person is served dishes according to their rank. The more dishes in front of them, the higher they are in rank. The higher ranked ones can give a dish to a lower ranked out of kindness. It is highly likely, that you will notice my grandfather offer his dishes to the princes or his grandchildren. He’s quite generous when it comes to his family.”

Wanyin nodded as he watched you walk up to Wei Wuxian with the first appetizers and placing them down as carefully as possible. Serving each person rank by rank took a few minutes as you glided through the hall. Then you stopped at the cart again and pointed at the cups.

“Then comes the wine. Once everyone’s cups are filled, usually, like everywhere else, the higher ranked person toasts the first. With former emperors, like my great grandfather, everyone praised the emperor together however, my grandfather likes to toast first, breaking traditions. He always likes to show his gratitude for his family by wishing them well. Pay attention to always wait for him to say the first words and your attention should not wander around the room whether you are looking for someone or admiring the architecture.” you spoke softly as you motioned for Wei Ying to stand. “Once the emperor stands up, everyone has to follow suit. Do not stand in a hurry but keep pace with the others.” The servants demonstrated what you just explained making you nod. Then you motioned for Wanyin to step closer and tapped a servant on their shoulder. The young lad stood out of the row and offered his seat for the sect leader. The seat was closer to the middle, next to the lower ranked officials from the secretary.

“As an esteemed sect leader and a new hero of the kingdom, your seat should be here, right under the lowest ranked royal family member but higher than the official from the highest noble family, because you’re the emperor’s special guest for the time being.” you said while everyone watched you. “Just like with general etiquette for common people, also in the court, you should not eat or drink before the Emperor or Crown Prince.”

“Dishes are set just like when common people set their tables with dishes: the dishes with bones and dry dishes should be put on the left side of the table, while meat, soup, and wine should be placed on the right side. The heads of the fishes should be facing the most important and honorable guest. After eating, it is nice for guests to collect dishes and leftovers, and hand them to servants; they could stop if the host told them not to.” you explained as you demonstrated what you just said by placing the plates and trays on their assigned side of the table. “As you’re not yet familiar with any of the officials or royals, I advise you, to keep from making small talk. Always wait for the royal family members to start a conversation and always use their titles when addressing them. Especially the princes if you encounter them at all.”

“My first question: who is sitting by the Fourth Prince’ left side? How high in rank are they?” you pointed at the servant with the name tag of Zhu HuaJin, your cousin.

“Zhu HuaJin? Isn’t that your cousin, your highness?” Wanyin asked making you nod. Motioning with your hand, you showed him that he should continue. “She’s the wife of Marquise Jiang XinJun.”

“That is correct” you nodded. “The marquise rarely visits the imperial palace and HuaJin is only in the court because of the bad health conditions of her mother, Lady Mei’Er. Lady Mei’Er is only a noble consort chosen from the noble family of Xian. Her rank has only risen because she gave birth to the first and only child of the Fourth Prince.”

“Dianxia, how do you know so much?” Wei Ying asked seemingly bored out of his mind. You flashed him a kind smile before replying.

“Besides growing up amongst those people, I better knew my enemies from head to toe, knowing what their ancestors’ offices and titles were rather than not know and lose my head too quickly.” you heard several gasps and had a glimpse of many pale faces amongst the present party.

“The imperial court is so scary” whispered a young servant girl to her friend.

“How do you greet Second Prince in case he crosses paths with you, sect leader?” you questioned Wanyin not paying attention to the young girls. Walking back to Wanyin, you stood in front of him as he stood up from his seat and bowed to you his fist in his palm. His head was lower and never raising to meet your eyes waiting for you to let him straighten up. You quietly nodded motioning for him to stand straight. “Second Prince invites you for a private dinner with him, what do you do?”

“Decline his offer politely” A-Cheng replied making you shake your head.

“Never decline the offer of a royal. He invites you, you accept” you said firmly. “If you want him to not behead you… however, you can avoid him taking notice of you in order to avoid further contact with him.”

“That will be almost impossible with how much your highness is pushing me into the center of attention” Wanyin grumbled making you chuckle.

“Did you pay attention to my explanations?” you asked which he answered with a nod. “Then list everything off for me from the beginning to the end.”

It wasn’t too hard because mostly everything was taught to commoners as everything was custom for lower ranked people, however, on a much simpler way. Commoners weren’t using honorifics and titles inside their families, they weren’t sitting with their backs rigid and their eyebrows furrowed. They were celebrating a big event in love and affection for each other. You barely listened to Jiang Cheng as he repeated everything perfectly as these thoughts filled your mind.

“Dianxia” Wanyin called for the fourth time by the time your attention snapped back to him. You gave him a polite smile before declaring the end of day’s lesson. The servants bowed to you before they left in silence. The main hall grew eerily quiet as you stood there alone with Jiang Cheng. Wei Wuxian long left though stayed outside, you could feel his presence lingering there. “What is wrong?”

“Ah, this useless attendant only has useless thoughts, sect leader” you waved with a troubled smile. Referring to yourself like that indicated what the eunuchs and ladies of court taught you: as an imperial princess, your duty was to the throne and only to the throne. You weren’t better than any other servant or maid in the palace who was fulfilling their own duties. The only difference was the way of doing your duties to the throne and what kind of duties those were.

“Your highness rarely has useless thoughts” Jiang Cheng replied still confused by your stressed out expression. “You should take in some fresh air. It has been a long lesson today.”

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you pushed a finger into his chest. Squinting, you pouted at him.

“Sect Leader Jiang, you just want to get away from me, don’t you?” you asked with a playful tone however, as his face only remained serious, determined, the smile melted away from your lips. His hand enveloped yours and pulled it away from his chest only to pull you closer. Your mouth went dry as you gazed up into his deep brown eyes.

“Maybe a few months ago it would’ve been true” he said quietly staring into your eyes deeply. He licked his lips in anticipation as his eyes rested on your lips for a few more seconds than your other features. “Not anymore.”

Your breath got caught in your throat as you stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest as your cheeks grew extremely hot. You felt his soft breath on your lips and chin as your faces were leaning closer and closer. Maybe once, you could make an exception, maybe only once, you could be careless, reckless and throw all reason out the window. Just a little push, a little tilt and your lips would touch-.

“Sect Leader! One of the prisoners got out!” a young disciples barged into the hall interrupting the moment. You almost jumped out of your body as he startled you, heart thumping hard against your ribcage from fright. You let Jiang Cheng take care of the matter and watched him leave you alone. You sighed heavily while turning to the empty table. The servants took everything with themselves once you dismissed them and now the hall looked deserted.

Stop pretending that you have a future with the sect leader… you will either die in the palace once you stepped foot in there or will be forced to leave the kingdom and never return. He deserves a proper wife, you can never give him what he deserves… scolding yourself, you walked outside. The sun shone down on you brightly as you closed the doors and turned to return to your chambers when Wei Wuxian stepped out from behind the corner.

“Dianxia” he cooed with a grin. “Getting closer to Jiang Cheng, aren’t we?”

“Are you always listening on private conversations?” you asked back trying to avoid the topic.

“How am I supposed to know when to start the wedding planning otherwise, your highness?” Wei Ying grinned at you before he stepped closer a much more serious expression on his handsome face. You looked up into his brown eyes only to be met with worry. “Ran’En… you seem unnerved. What is on your mind?”

“A-Xian… I have a bad feeling about going to the palace lately” you sighed with your eyebrows furrowed. “Not like before we started carrying out the plans. I have this unsettling feeling about what awaits us there.”

“We’re all going with Jiang Cheng, he won’t be alone in this” the Yiling Patriarch replied trying to reassure you.

“A-Xian, this is not just a ‘if something goes wrong, we can still execute plan B’ kind of situation. If anything, just only one thing goes wrong, we’re done for. All of us” you furrowed your brows even more. You averted your gaze as tears gathered under your eyes, your heart squeezing in pain. “I already got Lili into trouble. She’s… she’s dead because of me, Wei Ying.”

“It was not your fault, Ran’En!” Jiang Cheng’s voice spoke up from behind you. “She committed suicide to prevent the enemy getting anything out of her and we should praise her memory for her bravery. Her sacrifice will not go to waste if we are successful so we should succeed. That is the least we can do!”

“A-Cheng, when did you learn how to sneak up on others?” Wei Ying threw him a mischievous smirk before stepping back from you.

“Ran’En, do you hear me? We have to succeed!” the sect leader continued as he came up to your side. “Now come, it is already late and you still haven’t eaten anything all day.”

You couldn’t help but smile and nod at him. Following him to a back garden, you noticed how everything seemed to quiet down. In the middle of a large pond was a pavilion, a bridge connecting it to the shore. Lampions were floating above the water and small candles were lit across the pond as the sky grew darker. Your eyes widened at the sight while Jiang Cheng led you towards the fully set table in the pavilion. Lan Wangji was already sitting there playing on his gujin, the quiet song caressing your ears like a gentle breeze.

The other buildings around the pond gave shelter from any harsh weather, while it was still an open area. The sky was growing dark and soon stars were twinkling on the vast sheet of it. Jiang Cheng ushered you toward the table where Wangji stood up and bowed to you, greeting you. You were surprised to see Jin Ling present but you smiled at him warmly while Jiang Cheng pulled out your chair for you.

“I noticed how sad you turned when you mentioned that commoners are celebrating big events differently in demeanor during today’s lesson” the sect leader motioned around the table filled with different kinds of dishes, you couldn’t even distinguish the scent of each one from the other. “I figured that we should show you how ‘commoners’ celebrate differently from ‘royalty’.”

His words were filled with sarcasm making you chuckle, your heart filling with warmth. No one ever done such a thing for you before… no, such a thing was never done to bring your spirits up. Not even by those who were supposed to be close to you.

“Hao! Let’s drink to the princess!” Wei Wuxian lifted his cup but didn’t even wait for anyone to do the same as he quickly downed the cup’s contents. Jiang Cheng scolded him but soon sat down himself and began eating. Dishes were passed around as the conversation went on. You listened to them talk about their past nighthunts and tell stories about battles and fights, or joke about their time in Gusu when they were much younger. Not that they were old. You rolled your eyes how they were talking about themselves like they were old monks or something. It was amusing to watch them bicker.

Hanguang-Jun true to himself, stayed quiet most of the time, he either scolded Wei Ying for spilling sauces and soup on the table accidentally or hummed in affirmation for a question. Though the best part of the night was when Jin Ling called you ‘qiuma’. Jiang Cheng’s face grew tomato red before he yelled at his brother for filling their nephew’s head with nonsenses. For the first time in your life, you felt at home. It felt like you have arrived to your final destination where you could finally take a breath and lean back. Looking at Jiang Wanyin, you smiled at his angry face with adoration.

To be continued…

[glassartpeasants]

Crying In The Club .8

Yandere!Overhaul x F!Reader

*Part 1* *Part 2* *Part 3* *Part 4* *Part 5* *Part 6* *Part 7* *Part 8*

Warnings: Yandere overhaul, angst, non-consensual touching, blood & gore, torture, death, sassy reader, some sexual references 

A/N: Yeah It gets kinda gruesome in this chapter so lol. But as a warning I will put a warning *GORE* before it truly begins. I was just in the mood for some good old gore.

Taglist

@hello-lucky-luka @winchester-wifey

~~~

Another meeting, another hour of torture. You couldn’t believe it. After 6 months of being with your boyfriend, thinking all the horror was gonna end, you were dragged back into the devils lair. Not only was he actually a sociopath but this man fully believed that he could convince you to love him. As if.

How could you love someone who hurt you in horrific ways? He lowered your self esteem until it was practically nothing by the time he let you go. You had only gotten it back a little bit when (????) came into the picture. You couldn’t help but cry the night you were brought back here. How could you be happy knowing the one person you felt safe with was dead all because of some psychotic man who believed you were his.

A gloved hand on your thigh ripped you out of your thoughts. You tried not to tense up and show that the feeling was unwelcomed. Which it was. You felt his thumb rub up and down your thigh while he was talking to some random crime boss. You looked around the room uncomfortable as you were the only woman in the entire area. It felt as if all eyes were on you. They were undressing you with their eyes. You could tell by the way the two younger men that licked their lips were looking you up and down. It seems that you recognize many of these people from when you use to go to the meetings before you left.

It looked like many of the older men had learned their lesson since not one of them looked in your direction. But the younger men seemed to be new. You refused to show weakness and go crawling to Overhaul for some sort of safety. So you decided to do the next best thing. Show them that you weren’t gonna stand to be looked at like prey.

“Can you two men stop looking at me like Im a piece of meat? This is a professional meeting and you acting anything less then professional. Plus I’m taken.” You cross your arms while glaring at the two men with hatred. Everyone was silent as they all looked at you. Surprised you had said anything. You weren’t going to let some horny men look at you like that.

“You know Overhaul, you should teach her not to say anything. This is a professional meeting after all.”

“Pfft, professional meeting? Last time I was in a meeting like this, all you disgusting men couldn’t keep your eyes off of me. Shame your guys wives doesn’t know your checking out younger women.” You smirk. Idiots be wearing wedding bands on their fingers. Listen you were no mobster but its pretty common sense to not show any weakness. Especially something as crucial as a wife or husband.

No one said a word. You stood your ground, you showed you weren’t afraid of these people. But you weren’t gonna lie, You were bat shit terrified. All these men were so much bigger then you were. 

‘Keep the confident front! Don’t show any fear!’

“How did you-”

“The wedding bands on your fingers.” All the men looked at their fingers realizing you had caught them. They then looked at you before they grumbled. Well everyone except the two younger men.

“Well sweets we don’t have any wedding bands. Hey Overhaul, you willing to sell that pretty thing over there?” Your eyes widen. Did these men really think you were just some toy to be pawned off? You did not miss this at all. In fact you fuckin hated this.

Before you could growl at them Kai had sen’t them a glare. He grabbed your hip and brought you in between his legs. His right arm snaking around your waist.

“No she’s not for sale. Let’s continue this meeting before I lose my temper.” Well this did not go the way you thought it would hot damn.

~~~

You sit on the couch near the back door. Watching as the older men leave with their tails in between their legs. Even if you would never admit it, Kai is much younger then most of these men. So if they were to fight him, they wouldn’t have a good chance in fighting. But the younger men, you don’t know for sure. Speaking of them you didnt see them leave the compound.

“Miss (Y/N), Overhaul had requested your presence in the basement.” Your breathing hitched as a feeling of dread washed your entire body. What did you do? You had only been back for 3 days! You couldn’t have done-

Oh yeah.

‘How could I completely forget about how I just dissed those men. Oh im so mega fucked.’ You breath lowly in fear of what would happen to you. Damnit you should have just been quiet and took it. Now you were gonna feel his wraith. Why did you do that? 

You follow the man towards the basement where you heard Kai’s voice talking to someone. Was it Hari? No couldn’t be. Hari’s voice held a bit more of a sweeter tone. At least to you. This voice was similar but you couldn’t put a finger on where you heard it before. Think, think, think damnit-

The to men from the meeting.

Your eyes grow wide as you walked down the stairs and heard the door close behind you. The creaking of the wooden stairs seem to ring in your ears as your eyes slowly adjust to the darkness. Your legs jelly as you fear what you might see. What could Kai be doing to those men? Even if they were a little creepy they had probably learned their lesson when Kai had screamed at them when you were leaving the room after the meeting.

Once your feet met the concrete floor of the basement your eyes wide at the sight before you. 

****GORE****

Right in front of you was the 2 men, tied in chairs, face bloody. You could have sworn some of their teeth were missing.

“Aw my lovely angel. Look, now they can never say anything to you. They don’t deserve to see your beauty. I’m proud of you for showing me which disgusting creatures were looking at you.” Kai said as he up behind you. He settled his chin on the top of your head. You see his beak coming off from the top of your head. His hands rubbing your shoulders gently, moving his thumbs in circular patterns.

“You stupid bitch! Were in here because of you-”

“(R/N) cut of their tongues. No one speaks to my angel in such a way.” You gasped as you backed up. Trying to escape the scene that was about to unfold. But you couldn’t Kai had grasped your chin and made you watch as a subordinate of his grabbed the tongue of one of the men before a sickening rip followed as the other man screamed. Blood gushed out of his mouth as the man coughed. Struggling not to choke on his own blood. 

The other man suffered the same fate followed by the familiar rip. Tears were rushing down your eyes as you felt bile rise up in the back of your throat. Kai looked down at you and saw the tears and gushed out of your eyes.

“Aw angel why are you crying? Is it because you know they’ll never say such vile things to you again? Your welcome for protecting you.” Kai softly spoke as he nudged his head in between your shoulders. You felt like you were watching a horror film but in 3D. 

The mens blood covered the tops of their shirts as they cough it all up. The men looked on the verge of passing out. One of them looked at you with a glare causing you to lift up your arms to cover your eyes. Your lip quivering in fear as you hear a pop and the gurgling screams of the men in front of you.

3 more pop sounds came and you were flinching every time one pop had came. You move your fingers to the side and see the men with their eyes gauged out of their sockets.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You vomited all over the ground as the men screamed even louder. You couldn’t see it. You didn’t want to see it. You were about to run out of the room before you slipped on your on vomit and hit your head against the concrete floor.

~~~

You open your eyes only to be greeted by a blinding white light. You move your arm to cover it so your eyes don’t sting. You flutter your eyes a bit before looking around your room. A pure white room that looked like a hospital room. You groaned. Was it all just a bad dream? I mean you did go to the hospital the day before you got kidnapped again. 

You smile a bit, thinking it was all but just a dream. You could go back to your loving boyfriend, you could eat with him and just enjoy his presence. You missed him dearly. The thought of him got your heart pumping harder and harder. You couldn’t wait to see his cheeky smile and that cute little mole on his chin.

Just as you were about to get up from the bed and go home, your thoughts were snapped when you heard the familiar voice of your captor. That meant that this wasn’t a dream. No, this was a living nightmare. You hadn’t dreamed this, it was real. Your boyfriend was dead and you were still in the clutched of the devil himself.

You let out a little whimper when you moved your head a bit. You gently touch the side of your head wincing at the pain. The sudden thoughts of what happened earlier scratched into your head. You shiver at the thought of what else could’ve happened while you were out. 

“Ah my darling angel, your finally awake. Is your head okay? Nasty gash you had. Since you fell in your own vomit I had to give you a bath. I never thought you would be even more beautiful then you already were.” Your eyes widen. He had changed you?! That means he saw everything! EVERYTHING!

Your cheeks grew red in embarrassment as you try and turn your head away. Only for Kai’s gloved hand to bring your face back to his.

“Aw my angel, don’t be embarrassed now. It’s not like I will never see you like that again. Trust me my love, one day you’ll be crying my name.”

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Fourth Coming

Fandom: The Wilds Rating: T Word Count: 2157

Summary: And on the twenty-third day, Nora ate goat and thought about love.

Nora sees the experiment through two lenses, like the red and blue acetate in those cheap 3D glasses. One lens is the scientific, the other is the brutal. When she puts these metaphorical glasses on, she’s just there, in the middle of it, but when she’s feeling particularly tired (understandably often) or just relaxed (inexplicably often—a fact to be concealed from the others), she shifts between the two views. Each is sharper alone than they are combined.

Scientific: counting the days; subtly taking her own inventory of the rations; monitoring Fatin’s dehydration, the commensurate level of distrust the rest of the group have for her.

Brutal: cold fingers in wet, black sand, disinterring Jeanette’s grave; Dot’s tumbling, shivering recount of spearing and battering a snake; ralphing, ralphing, ralphing bad mussels.

It isn’t until the goat that these contrary perspectives finally attain a kind of beautiful balance in Nora’s brain. And it isn’t her thoughts, or rereading one of her journal entries, that has her mental clouds clearing. Actually, it’s what Leah says. About barbecues and normalcy and the Fourth of July. Leah’s remark—possibly offhand, certainly poisonous, even if Nora can’t see how yet—gracelessly and unselfconsciously reveals the barbarism of order. A social gathering on the same day each year, centered around fire (fireworks, sure, but Nora is amazed by how dazzled people are by something not so very far advanced from what had the cavepeople oohing and awwing) and the cooking of meat. Ritual is the summit at which the scientific and the brutal join hands.

The day doesn’t matter. (Every day could have been June 29th and what difference would that have made for them on this island?) The conditions of their environment haven’t changed. (No major shift in the seasons or significant weather patterns, just the single freakish high tide.) The slaughter of the goat and the subsequent cookout should be put down to chance, Nora knows. Toni, Martha, and Shelby decided to look for food. Martha happened to find the goat. She happened to lay her hands on a tool that could do the job. She happened to be successful. And now, miraculous barbecue in honour of… what?

Nora’s sure that most of the girls would say the feast is in honour of themselves, their power, their survival. All of that would really put a spit-shine on Gretchen’s mission statement, but Nora’s not just an agent, a plant, a spy, a wolf in castaway’s clothing. She seeks to understand as much as she always has. She wonders if Shelby thanks god for the goat, or eats it as a form of praise. Nora constantly spots her toying with the cross on her necklace, frequently in a way that holds it far from her throat, almost like she’s thinking about ripping the necklace off and hurling it into the ocean. That would be going a bit far, but then, so is hacking your hair off because a brush got stuck.

Their ritual could be the sacrifice of another creature in the hopes of sparing themselves—a kind of desperate, gasping celebration. Privately, Nora decides they’re celebrating love. Leah’s persistent aura of tragic romance is part of the inspiration for that, but she isn’t part of either of the two developing relationships Nora’s been observing.

Martha’s picking at her goat meat glumly, so Nora rises and goes over to her. Her gait is unsteady on this sand and on these legs, weakened over the past two days of starvation, but it’s enough to carry her until she can slump down next to Martha. Sweet and strong, vulnerable and clearly capable (judging by the sizzle of fat dripping from the roasting goat leg and hitting the fire), Martha smiles when Nora joins her. Nora smiles back and that’s enough between them for a few minutes.

Nora watches the browned meat, nearly allowing herself to be hypnotized by the texture that urges her to sink her teeth in, the crispy spots she knows would taste incredible. But she can’t gorge herself; her stomach needs to be cool about what she’s already eaten or the chewed up goat goes the way of the slurped mussels Rachel found.

Carefully, Nora turns her head to study Martha. She decides that what this girl needs is the same thing Leah needed on Day 12 when she was sitting alone on the beach: some kind of dirty joke. Since she’s fresh out of filthy material of the Christmas variety, Nora tells Martha, “One second,” and heaves herself up again. She comes back dragging Marcus. He’ll be her muse, but it’s also a reunion of lovers.

“You two could get married,” Nora tells Martha. “Shelby said she was an ordained youth minister, remember?”

They laugh and it’s softer than the crackle of the fire. Nora likes that. The steady, rolling sound of their laughs together. How they taper off, unlike the ceaseless noise of breaking waves that drives Nora insane whenever she surfaces from her numbness to the sound. Like becoming conscious of your breathing and working like hell to stop noticing it, because having to purposefully regulate every breath is exhausting and terrifying.

Martha frowns a little in consideration, then half-smiles.

“Nah. I don’t know if I’m ready to commit like that. I think this could just be a fling. All those abs and he didn’t come help me haul that goat.”

“That’s true.” When Martha gazes at the mannequin, Nora assesses Marcus as well. “And it’s not like you’d want to keep him around because he gives great head.”

“He might’ve once,” Martha defends, brushing hair out of her face when a breeze kicks up, “but he gave so much head that there’s none left for me.”

They catch each other staring at the clean line where Marcus’s neck ends and nothing rests above it and trip into laughter again. Though Nora feels like she accomplished her dirty joke, Martha made it even better. People have underestimated her. Nora’s noted it from the start. It’s probably because Martha was injured. Group dynamics were established quickly and have formed and reformed in the days and weeks since, but Day 1 showed them the rawest version of who they are together and, before they knew about Jeanette, Martha was the weak one. Have the others seen her role evolve like Nora has? Are Nora’s observations anything special, really?

“This is totally not a judgement thing or anything,” Nora says, meaning it. “I was just wondering if you were maybe going to wash your clothes. Or change them.”

“Oh.”

Martha looks down at herself and now Nora’s glad she said something; it doesn’t seem like Martha was really aware that she’s been sitting here crusted in drying blood. Nora weighs the acceptability of a period joke and decides against it.

“You don’t have to,” she assures Martha, raising a gentle hand. “It just seemed like maybe the, uh, the slaughtering process? Was kind of a mindfuck?”

“Yeah.” Martha stares straight ahead and lets out a short laugh that Nora doesn’t join her in. “I’m glad Marcus wasn’t there to see. He might not’ve come back the same.”

Nora peers at her a moment, then resolves to just say what she’s thinking.

“Did you?”

Turning her head, Martha looks at Nora and her smile’s the same, but her eyes are different. No, Nora would write in the journal. The answer is plain. Maybe she’ll record it on paper later and maybe she won’t. Looking into Martha’s eyes, Nora knows she won’t need help remembering this.

“I’m just living my best life,” Martha tells her, batting the ends of her hair with her hand.

It sounds like something Fatin would say in this moment, or at least have printed on a t-shirt or something—it’s flip and glib—and for the very reason that it reminds Nora of Fatin, she’s certain that Martha not only means the silly words sincerely but that she feels the kind of truth in the trope, the mindfulness in the meme, that Fatin fights so hard to experience herself. Fatin is deeper than that ocean over there and Martha is a girl scooping out the sand in front of her mannequin boyfriend, digging him a sturdy trench to rest in so she can lean back against his factory-sculpted physique, painted in the blood of her first kill.

For whatever reason, Marcus is the man Martha wants. Nora can’t imagine him becoming anyone else’s property after all this is over.

“Do you want a lychee instead?” she offers. Martha’s flat-out ignoring her leaf-plate of meat now.

“Maybe in a minute.”

She turns her dreamy eyes away from where she’s rubbing a streak of dirt off Marcus’s bicep. Nora follows her gaze to Shelby, who seems to be counting out and partitioning the lychee haul, looking to Dot from time to time. Dot isn’t interfering, just giving encouraging nods when Shelby seeks them out. And of course Toni’s watching too.

“You think they’re telling the truth?” Nora inquires bluntly. “That whole ‘wrong turn in the woods’ story?”

Martha shrugs and says, “Yeah,” but Fatin scootches towards them, evidently drawn by the hum of gossip in the air.

“Are you talking about Toni and Shelby?” she asks, but it’s more of a demand. Her eyes are bright and excited, her mouth grinning, and Nora knows that a lot of that effect is thanks to their first meal in days, but it astounds her how socializing lights Fatin up as much as it used to shut Nora down.

“No,” Martha says quickly, but no faster than Nora’s flat, “Yes.”

“Dope. Yeah, those two are a hundred percent lying.”

“Are you sure?” Nora asks.

She’s not, but the cameras will be. Seeing the footage afterwards isn’t something she negotiated on when Gretchen made her part of the team. Speculation, though less scientific, is much more fun.

Fatin rolls her eyes like Nora’s questioning the laws of gravity. (She blinks and sees the poster of Newton. Sees Newton seeing the apple. Her throat closes up until she softly coughs it clear.)

“Definitely,” Fatin says. “Even if they were just out there all day picking fruit, it’s still the most sapphic thing I’ve ever heard. It’s, like, biblically sapphic.”

Martha laughs.

“Uhhh, sorry, which version of the Bible did you read?”

Nora smiles broadly and looks from Martha’s expression of brimming joy to Fatin’s concentrated delight. Like she’s on to something and whether or not she’s right is beside the point. That kind of approach makes Nora pleasantly dizzy. She remembers being little, standing at a department store perfume counter she couldn’t see over while her mom spritzed scents on her wrists that floated down to Nora’s nose. Fruit and flowers and anything and everything that could make the air beautiful when a woman walked into a room.

“None, but come on, there’s the garden, right? I know some shit. The marketing for this retreat was super Christian-centric anyway. We’re out here representing the fucking Dawn of Eve!” Fatin gestures triumphantly around at their dismal (except for the goat) camp. “If those two bitches weren’t getting their freak on under a fruit tree last night, I’ll eat my gold watch.”

Nora scrutinizes the girls in question.

“Shelby does look especially glowy today.”

“Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s chronic sun damage,” Martha singsongs.

“Maybe it’s what Toni did to those mussels with her tongue,” Fatin acknowledges frankly, “because Shelby sure as hell didn’t borrow my hundred-dollar highlighter. That shit got swept out to sea.”

Fatin trains her eyes on Shelby while Martha watches Toni, and Nora watches both of them watch the others. When they switch subjects in a moment of unvoiced agreement, Toni jerks her head up and spots Fatin staring at her. The tender gazes she’s been throwing Shelby’s way over the low mound of red fruit tighten into suspicion.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Toni barks, and a laugh sputters from Fatin as she raises her hands to show she means no harm.

“Ok,” Martha says to Fatin and Nora, giggling. “I see it now. Something happened between Shelby and Toni yesterday. Some kind of hunter-gatherer romance.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve taken the ‘hunter’ title away from Shelby,” Nora points out.

“Well, whatever. Gatherer-gatherer then.”

“With an island colony of all women, it was only a matter of time,” is Fatin’s pragmatic take. “Another couple weeks without an orgasm and I would’ve fucked Toni myself.”

“It wasn’t just time,” Martha scoffs, tipping her head to the side. “It’s love.”

“It’s both,” Nora says. She could prove it to them, flourish the statistics she’s been tracking in her journal. How those bald numbers lie there next to the drawings that spill to the edge of the page. She’s made bedfellows of data and emotions. She just sits there and grins at them. “It’s the aphrodisiacal influence of the Fourth of July.”