#I am only a small slime all I know is smear frames

[small-small-slime]

"You came back!"

I animated part of a scene from As long as we are loved by @shirajellyfish! I really recommend checking it out if you haven't! It's really well-written and Sun and Moon are both so lovable!! Look at how excited Living Doll Sun is to see you!!!

Also please look at it fullscreen if you can, I worked hard on Sun's little double-take at the beginning but it's hard to see. :')

(ALSO credit to this video of the player shooting Sun with darts in HW2 for helping me visualize Sun doing a cartwheel and also for letting me listen to Sun go "Gh-! What are you doing? Shoot the board! The board!" as many times as I want. I love him)

[justasimptm]

The Bride C11

The next few minutes are a blur of screaming and begging that comes to a head when Heisenberg tosses her to the ground next to me. He hisses something at her that makes her whimper, but he doesn't give her a chance to respond before he grabs her arm and slices a quick line right under her elbow. The smell of fresh blood assaults my senses and within seconds I’ve latched on to her, sinking my teeth into her soft skin. Whether by sheer force or the sharpness of my teeth I don’t know, but biting into her is as easy as biting into a sandwich, minor resistance, high reward. The responses are immediate-she yells and tries to pull away, the sound is stifled in seconds by Heisenberg grabbing her face and holding his hand over her mouth, his other arm grabbing around her middle and forcing her to keep still. The flow of blood is steady despite her struggles, strong swallows forcing it down into my gut, warmth spreading through me.

She tastes like cinnamon and citrus, tastes alive and so so good. Part of me knows I could stop now, that I don’t have to keep drinking. I can already feel myself recovering, feel the odd tugging as my body regenerates around the wound, the stinging as it drives out the poison that was killing me, the small popping as it comes out in the form of small crystal shards. However, fair is fair. She was going to kill me, damn near succeeded. The least I can do is return the favor, so I keep drinking, gulping down the thing that sustains us both.

Keep going even as her fighting gets weaker and her arm starts getting cold. Keep going until she stops resisting and even moments after that when her body falls fully limp and there’s nothing more than drops left in her veins. Only then do I let go, letting myself flop back to the ground, sated and full of energy, my wound closed.

“Do you need more?” Heisenberg asks, tossing her now empty body to the side without a second thought and hoisting me up so I’m sitting, but leaning against his chest to keep me stable. The concern in his voice is kind, a nice contrast from the rough sound of his voice. Through my gluttonous daze I smile at him, the voice in the back of my mind says to close my mouth, knowing my teeth are certainly stained red. Logically I know it’s likely also smeared around my lips, I was nowhere near neat eating this time. I was more concerned with consumption than I was with manners. It doesn’t seem to bother him though, which is nice, as his eyes never stray from my eyes.

“She tasted good,” I hum, closing my eyes in relief, “That’ll be enough. Thank you for helping...Karl…” My head dips down, resting slightly on his shoulder. “I’m sleepy.” He nods, shifting so one of his arms is under my back, looping his other under my legs, pulling me into his lap and then up as he shifts into a squat and swings up quickly to stand.

“Rest. I’ll have these brutes clean this up. I’ll bring you back to your mother.” He instructs. I want to tell him not to, that she’ll be mad, but my tongue is too heavy and I can’t get the words to come out. I hear him speak lowly to the Lycans before I can feel him start moving. His steps are slow, calculated as not to jostle me too much. The walk back feels long, whether that’s because he paces himself out so it is, or because I’m too out of itl, I don’t know, but it feels like hours before the gates come into view. They rattle for a split second before flying open with a clang. I want to tell him to be quiet, to put me down, that my mother can’t see him here, can’t see me in his arms.

His arms, which make me feel safer than I’ve felt in ages, warmer than all my blankets ever could. I hear my mother screech my name, making me flinch and blink my eyes open. He shushes me slightly when he feels me tense, before replying to her. “Alcina.” He greets her as he makes his way up the path towards the front door. We get to the bottom of the stairs before my eyes truly focus. She’s stepped out from the frame, not leaving the radius of the door, and boy oh boy does she look furious.

“Put my daughter down this instant, Heisenberg.” She snarls, voice colder than ice, cutting through my post-feed-healing ditz and spearing my brain with a spike of awareness. He opens his mouth to protest but she cuts him off before he can, stating her demand again much more firmly. He sighs, looking down at me briefly before bending slightly to set me on my feet. He keeps his hand on my waist for a moment as I sway unsteadily, but despite my vertigo I extract myself from his grasp. “Come inside now, Y/N.” I nod at her, whispering my thanks to him almost silently before stumbling my way up the steps past her looming form. I vaguely hear her hiss out a threat before she follows me inside, slamming the door and latching onto my bicep harshly, not letting up any pressure even as I cry out from the pain. She drags me downstairs towards the dungeon, past the smug faces of my sisters, before throwing me into one of the empty cells on the far side of the castle, far from the girls we bring down, from the blood we store. “You’re going to stay in here until you learn to keep away from that slime. I don’t care how long that takes.” I want to scream, protest that I didn’t seek him out, that it isn’t my fault, but I know it’s no good, she doesn't want to hear it. Doesn’t want to hear how I almost died, how he saved me and that’s the only reason I was near him in general.

She leaves me there as soon as she locks the gate. My brain starts turning back on after a few hours, my wound fully closed, the blood I consumed finally settling into my body, the buzz it gave me calming. Not long after that I hear faint laughing, that grows closer and closer until my sisters are standing in front of the bars, all looking like the cat who ate the canary. Daniela approaches first, looking me up and down before cocking her head to the side.

“Why am I not surprised to see you three here, gloating over my fall from grace.” I muse, skimming over their proud forms. “Let me guess. You let her escape. You gave her the knife. Is that why you’ve been scaring the help off?” Her lips curl up higher, clearly satisfied with her work. “You do realize I could just swarm out of here right? Right out through the bars.” Cassandra tsks, moving to join her sisters side, looking rather pleased with herself.

“You certainly could try, sister, but we had mother coat the bars in salt ages ago when some of our experiments started coming back.” My stomach dips slightly. Salt? Of course they had her do that. They’ve been planning this, clearly, because alongside silver, salt is one of the only other things that can a. hurt me, and b. keep me from passing through gaps in either form.

“Have fun down here. Who knows when mother will stop being upset with you. You really pulled that for us. Chasing after the girl, we could have stopped her before she got out of course. But god, coming back in his arms? We really should thank you.” Bela teases, stepping up out of the shadows and I can’t stop the disgusted scoff that comes out of my mouth. The three of them quirk their eyebrows, wordlessly asking what’s funny. I take a dragging step up, keeping a few inches from the bars, but as close as I can be to the three of them. Cassandra and Bela look towards Daniela, both looking as if they want to step away but following her lead. Funny, I would have thought Cassandra planned this.

“You girls are very cute, you know that? Thinking I wouldn’t know you planned this. Imagine how interested mother would be to find out the girl had one of her silver knives? You know, the ones she keeps locked away in her office that only we know about?” I reply calmly, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on theirs. Daniela opens her mouth to give some witty retort, I’m sure, but I cut her off before she can utter a syllable. “You girls need to be very careful with how you want to keep playing this game. The longer you’re on her good side, the easier it’ll be for me to topple you. I’ll let you have this one, but if you ever try anything again to make me fall out of my mothers favor you will regret it. Because even if mother doesn’t like me, Mother Miranda does, and I don’t think she’d be pleased to find out you three are trying to torment the person who’s been so beneficial to her research. Watch yourselves.”

They huff indignantly, and I know they won’t take my threat at its full merit, but that’s fine. More satisfying for me if I have to burn them. This time, however, they find their graces not to continue poking at me and walk off deeper into the dungeons, leaving me in the dark with nothing to entertain myself. I want to ask for a light, but I refuse to give them the satisfaction of it, so instead I clumsily make my way to the bed, sitting on it with minimal error and resign myself to leaning against the wall until mother decides she wants to let me out.

@foggyturtleknightangel @beingviolentlyhappy @inesalexandra1995 @loveboldlywingedangel130

[chrispevanss]

Exception

A/N: Here you guys go! This is my first foray into Lance Tucker smut. For all intents and purposes, the reader in this story is 20 and Lance is 35. This is smut, so 18+ only, sorry not sorry kids. The gymnastics references I make here I pulled from some quick internet research so don’t come for me if I’m wrong.

Warnings: filthy smut, language, and oral (fem rec). 

He’s slime. Abhorrent, vile, putrid, a down right dick. He’s rude, he’s arrogant, he’s disgusting, and heartless. But damn, if he isn’t the hottest goddamn piece of ass you’ve ever laid eyes on, with a bedroom reputation that preceded him.

“Could be better,” Lance deadpanned. He crossed his arms across his broad chest and his eyes, unimpressed, scanned the length of your body. You scoffed and took a long sip from your water bottle.

“Could be better?” You mocked. Your hands defiantly rested on your hips, wispy tendrils framed your face.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” You wanted to wipe that smug smile off his stupid face. “Try this.”

Before you could blink, your coach was sprinting down the mat in front of you and pushing off the springboard into the vault, finishing with a flawless Tsukahara.

“That’s what they’re going to expect at The Games, kitten,” Lance flashed you a toothy smile and adjusted the chain around his neck.

“Don’t call me that.” You spat, lowering yourself to the floor to stretch your legs out. His eyes didn’t move from your form. ‘Probably gonna tell me what I’m doing wrong’ You thought to yourself as you bent your upper body in half over your outstretched leg.

“Lookin hot, but don’t bow your back like that. You’re gonna fuck it up and Lance Tucker doesn’t produce fucked up girls.”

“Yeah. You just fuck em.” You scoffed standing up and walking to your bag at the edge of the mat.

“Same time tomorrow?” You asked, pulling your silk track pants up over your leotard and slipping on your white sneakers.

“I didn’t say we were done.” He remarked, folding his arms over his chest once more. “You know you don’t get to leave until your routine is perfect.” A smug grin crawled across his face, you rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Lance. It’s 7:30!” You whined dropping your bag to the floor again and toeing out of your sneakers.

“And I told you. You don’t get to leave until it’s perfect. Tucker Gymnastics only produces perfect.” He sneered, yanking your bag from the floor and tossing it to the edge of the mat. You peeled your track pants off and tossed them in a pile next to your bag.

“Uneven bars. Now.” He barked, gesturing to the bars as you sauntered over.

You looked up, sucked in a deep breath and leapt. Your hands wrapped around the bar and you boosted yourself up, nearly flawless.

“Show me a kip,” Lance glanced at his watch, disinterested. You swung your legs into a kip, letting yourself breathe when you heard Lance’s tongue click of approval.

“Hip circle.” He sighed. You lifted yourself up and then let yourself fall forward. Circling the bar, you held yourself for a moment, catching your breath before Lance barked at you again.

“What the fuck was that?” His eyes were wild. You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“A fucking hip circle, Lance.”

“Get down. Let me show you how it’s done, again.” He was exasperated, and let out an annoyed sigh as you lowered yourself to the mat in front of him.

“Alright, Lance. Show me how it’s done.” You crossed your arms over your chest. Lance shed his obnoxiously red jacket and boosted himself up into the bars. You bit your lip as he moved around them, sinfully almost. His arms flexed, a light sheen of sweat shone across his forehead.  

“Take a picture. It lasts longer and you might learn how to do the routine properly.” He flashed you a smile before he shrugged his jacket back over his thick biceps.

“Go on. Do it.” He gestured. You huffed and stalked towards the bars.

“I’ll do it once and then you let me go, whether it’s perfect or not.” You bargained, staring up at the bars.

“Who said you made the rules now?” Lance quipped back. You bent your knees and leapt towards the bar, wrapping your hands around the cool wood.

“I did. You’re not the boss of me, Tucker.” You grunted, situating yourself and leaning forward, letting your weight carry you around the bar.

“Get down.” Lance barked before you were even through. You breathed a sigh of relief and lowered yourself to the mat. You crossed the blue padding and came to stand in front of your coach. He loomed over you, eyes wild and angry.

“W-what is it?” You stuttered.

“What did you fucking say to me?” He snarled, stepping closer. You could smell his expensive cologne mixed with a little bit of sweat, and dear god was it intoxicating.

“I said. You’re. Not. My. Boss.” You placed your hands on your hips defiantly and furrowed your brow.

“Excuse me? You really think you’re going to wow the judges at the games with that kind of attitude, kitten?” Lance smirked and stepped back. All traces of anger left his voice leaving you confused.

“I did the routine once, and now I’m leaving!” You huffed.

“And I didn’t say you could make the rules, girl,” Lance sneered and gripped your elbow. You yanked your arm away and scowled at your coach. His striking blue eyes were wild, his hair, perfect, save for a single tendril that curled above his eyebrow. And his lips. God, those lips.

“Fuck you, Tucker!” You growled, pulling him close and pushing your lips onto his. His calloused hands gripped your upper arms as he licked into your mouth.

A moan slipped through your lips, your hands slid up Lance’s body, the body that was chiseled by the gods themselves, to wind around his neck. He swallowed your moan, pressing his body closer to yours. You pulled away, out of breath, lips swollen.

“We shouldn’t..” You started, looking down at the floor. You dug your nearly polished toes into the mat, almost ashamedly.

“Hey.” Lance grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, giving you a small smile. “Don’t be sorry. You’re right, we shouldn’t..but it doesn’t mean I totally hated it.” A smirk danced across his lips and you couldn’t help but hug him, breathing in the intoxicating cocktail of his cologne and natural musk.

“But…” He continued, pulling away, holding you at an arm’s length.  His eyes were blown dark with lust, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t made an absolute mess of your leotard by now.

“Yeah?” You asked hopefully. You wrapped your hands around his forearms and bit your lip.

“Come here,” He grunted, turning and pulling you toward his dimly lit office. Your bag abandoned, but you couldn’t seem to care right now. He slammed the door and pressed you against it, slamming his lips against yours once again.

He fumbled with the straps of your leotard, grunting in frustration and then relief as they slid down your shoulders, releasing your breasts, or ‘dream killers’ as he so lovingly called them, from their lycra and spandex confinement. He pinched a nipple between his thumb and forefinger making you yelp softly in response.

“God, these are perfect.” Lance whispered leaning down and taking a single pebbled nipple into his mouth. You groaned softly and slid your hands through his perfect hair. He rutted his growing arousal against your leg, you reached down and untied the waistband of his track pants. Lance released your nipple with a satisfying pop and smugly looked up at you. He moved your hands and slid his pants and underwear down his thick thighs.

“Fuck.” You breathed out. His cock hung heavy between his legs, the tip glistened with precum. You could see the endings of a tattoo near the neatly-trimmed thatch of pubic hair at the base.

Before you could blink, Lance shed the rest of his obnoxious red uniform and pulled your leotard down in one fell swoop, leaving you exposed. You moved a hand to cover yourself, preserve what little modesty you could but Lance grabbed it first.

“Don’t. You’re beautiful,” He whispered, taking your lips in another kiss. He grabbed handfuls of your ass, his lips traveled down the column of your neck, and your own fingers carded through his perfectly gelled hair.

“Please, Lance.” You practically sobbed in pleasure. But he wasn’t going to give in that easily. He laid you on the couch in his office and spread your legs, marveling at how wet and swollen you were. One long finger dragged up your slit, catching on the hood of your clit making your back arch and a litany of obscene moans escape your lips.

“Is this all for me?” He smirked up at you, bending forward and sliding his tongue through your wet folds. He moaned at the taste, you moaned at the sparks of pleasure that exploded behind your eyes. He sucked gently on your clit and slid two thick fingers into your sopping entrance. You ground against his palm, desperate for some form of release but Lance Tucker wasn’t giving up that easily.

“Come on, Lance!” You cried, fisting your hands in his hair pulling him closer to where you so desperately needed him. He gave a kitten lick to your over sensitive clit, shoving his fingers deeper inside you.

“I think.” He removed his fingers, much to your chagrin, sucking your slick off them. “I think I like hearing you beg.” He whispered in your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth and tugging softly.

“Fuck me,” You growled softly, reaching between your bodies and wrapping your fist around his cock. A strangled gasp slipped through his lips and his head fell to your shoulder as you slid your hand across the tip, smearing the precum that beaded up.

“I wanna feel you,” Lance grunted, moving your hand and rutting his arousal against your sloppy cunt. You groaned in frustration and keened your hips upwards toward him. He slipped the tip in, just enough to stretch you and let you feel him, but not enough to fully satiate your growing hunger.

You grunted in frustration, “I swear to God Lance, you better get inside me right now!”

“I am inside you, darling.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he bent down to kiss your neck.

“Just the tip. Nothing special” You sighed in exasperation knowing (hoping) that your passiveness would ignite something in him.

“Nothing special, my ass!” He groaned sliding all the way in, his balls resting snugly against your ass. You moaned when he bottomed out, your nails dug into his biceps. He rolled his hips, growling as your walls clenched around him.

“Fuck you’re tight.” He let out a half hearted laugh as he spread your legs wider, pressing his weight on them and began thrusting. You chewed on your lower lip, sliding your hands up to wrap around his neck.

“Oh fuck, Tucker!” You grunted in time with his thrusts, your back bowed. The flared head of his cock slammed against your cervix in the most delicious way and you weren’t sure you were going to last long.

Lance bent his head forward and took a nipple in his mouth, laving at it gently with his tongue, thrusts never faltering. His other hand pulled lightly at your opposite nipple causing you to cry out.

“That’s it, baby,” He crooned “Lemme hear those pretty little noises.” He snapped his hips, hard, making you gasp.

“F-Fuck. Oh god, Tucker!!” Tears of pleasure rolled down your cheeks as his thrusts became sloppier, less precisioned. He was close, but he wasn’t letting you off that easy.

In what seemed like one movement, he pulled out, bent you over the back of the couch, and slid back in. He felt even bigger from this angle, hitting that spongy sweet spot inside you with every thrust, making you cry out obscenities with each movement.

Lance slid an arm around your front, kissing the top of your back softly he began to rub your clit in circles. You white knuckled the espresso colored leather and pushed back, wanting to feel all of him.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum?” He whispered in your ear. Pleasure overwhelmed you and you could only nod. “Use your words, little one or you don’t get to cum.”

“Yes! Tucker! Please let me cum!” His hips slammed against your ass, you were sure to have bruises in the morning but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He gently pinched your clit, bending forward to kiss your neck softly.

“Cum.” He whispered in your ear. Your walls clenched down around him as the tidal wave of your orgasm began to crest. His whispered praises in your ear spurred you on even more, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

You fell slack against the couch, chest heaving. Lance managed half a dozen more sloppy thrusts before spilling inside of you. His cum slicked down your thighs and you moaned at the sensation as he pulled you to lie next to him on the couch.

“Holy shit.” You laughed softly, one hand lay on Tucker’s chest, your head gently on his shoulder.

“I think I’d give that routine a perfect 10.” Lance laughed softly. “I’ve wanted that for a long time.” He confessed rubbing your upper arm and kissing your head. You smiled in agreement and leaned up to take his lips in a chaste kiss.

“So was that just a one time thing? I know you’re pretty strict with your no boys rule.” You giggled, chewing on your lip hopefully.

“I think I can make an exception to that rule just for you.” Lance smiled, a genuine smile and laid a soft kiss on your forehead. You snuggled in closer, breathing in his cologne and the slightest bit of sweat. Lance slid an arm around your waist, pulling you as close as he could. He grabbed a spare blanket from the arm of the couch and draped it over both of you. You kissed his chest gently and let yourself begin to drift off to sleep in his embrace.

“I love you, Lance” You yawned.

“I love you too”

[felicismagic18873]

Beyond the Blaze (1)

Summary: 4 Years old, Alyssa Potter finds her life taking a magical turn as she steps into a world of cute green giants, talking robots and misunderstood aliens. All of it is almost enough to make her forget the probable destruction of her own world.

Word Count: 3.3k

On the corner of a street in Silvercost, Surrey stood a charming two-story house. The lush green garden of the house was the envy of the whole neighborhood. 

Now, the first thing a person peeking into the house, as many of the neighbors did, would notice was the family picture hanging over the fireplace. The lady of the house, Petunia Dursley,  had insisted on the place since it showed just how lovely her family was. 

The picture itself was most peculiar with a collection of people that did not seem to belong together but were anyways. On the right side stood the man of the family, a fat man with little neck and a small proud smile on his face, he was the sort of man whose day would not be complete without bragging about one thing or another.

The thin lady next to him had her lips pressed together as if trying to hold back a thousand insults. Her long neck and small eyes being the most prominent features. 

And then there were the kids; the boy and the girl.

The boy was fat like his father. The beady eyes he got from his mother were squinting as he gave a huge grin showing off his teeth. His one hand was gripping his mother’s hand and the other was in his pocket, patting the 5 dollars she had given him to stay still.

But out of all of them, it was the little girl made the picture beautiful. She stood in front of the man, dressed in a simple red frock, black hair framing her face as sea-green eyes shone reflecting a smile. If one looked closely, a scar could be seen on her forehead peeking through her jet black bangs. Even though very peculiar, the picture made them feel like a perfect family. 

A loving mother, a doting father with their two innocent kids. The reality, however, was.....complicated. 

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

A strong gust of wind rushed through, rustling the leaves. A soft laugh filled the backyard of Dursley's household as a raven-haired child raised up a hand and pushed the flowing hair away from her face. She then picked up her small watering can again and went around watering the flowers. She nodded with a small smile at the blooming roses.

It took a lot of time but the roses had replaced the buds under her loving care after all no one else bothered to water them. The girl shivered a bit as the wind turned colder and nipped at her uncovered shoulders.

"Melina", The child whispered with recognition and slowly her face became radiant with happiness. She put down the can quickly and her eyes wandered in all directions trying to spot her friend in the small backyard. 

After several minutes of looking she sighed with defeat. She was about to go back to work when she was scooped up from behind. A small shriek escaped her lips."Put me down Mel, Put me down!" 

A bubbly laugh rang around as her friend spun her around before settling her on her feet. Turning around she hugged her guardian around her waist causing her to laugh. 

An angelic face framed by golden-white hair looked at her with a gentle smile lingering on the lips. Alyssa Potter couldn't help but look at her star-struck. Alyssa thought that Melina was the most beautiful person she had ever seen. She liked her friend more than any of her toys. Melina was way prettier than Barbies anyway and Alyssa loved it when she laughed and looked at her with her rainbow eyes. 

Sometimes she wondered how someone could have eyes like that!! Even her eyes had only one color in them. 

Melina sat down on the soft grass and pulled the little girl on her lap. Alyssa let out a happy sigh before snuggling up in her arms, looking up at her. She wondered if Melina knew what she had been thinking. Melina's soft voice filled with love chased away the thoughts of loneliness that had occupied her mind all day.

Even though Alyssa was a happy girl sometimes, when she stayed up all night dreaming about green lights and monsters, she just needed someone to hold her and tell her everything was fine. No monster was coming for her. Her aunt never accepted the role, never wanted it, so Mel was the one that made the loneliness and darkness go away.

Melina had been there for her as long as she remembered. Her sweet voice had spoken to her softly when she got sick. She had been there with her when Alyssa fell and broke her arm. Alyssa remembered how the nice blue-eyed nurse had been shocked that she had healed so well and so soon. 

Melina had always been in Alyssa's life and had filled her life and mind with the stories of a world that seemed too magical to exist. Sometimes Mel seemed like the Lady that Alyssa often saw in her dreams, the green-eyed lady with bouncy dark red hair and sparkly eyes.

"So what has my favorite child been up to?" Melina asked running her fingers through Alyssa's hair after she finished her fantastic story of a dragon called…em, something horntail.

''I am not a child anymore Mel, I am four!" she held up four fingers. She crossed her arms over her chest, she had seen her Aunt do it many times to emphasize her point.

Melina's melodious laughter echoed in the clearing that they were sitting in. "I know my love but for me, you'll always be my child" She smiled and kissed her forehead as Alyssa tried not to pout. 

She ended up pouting anyways "Not fair, Mel! I wanna be a big girl, not a baby."

Melina caressed her cheek "And you are a big girl, I promise. It's just my love for you that makes me say so." 

Alyssa thought for a while then nodded her head. It made sense. People loved their children more than anyone. She knew even her Aunt loved Dudley very much because he was her child. And since Melina always said she loved her most of all she didn't mind being a child.

"Now it's time to go," Melina said in a soft tone, running a hand in her hair again. Alyssa tried to protest, she knew that while Melina was with her no one could find her. Even the neighbors couldn't see them! 

"But-" 

"Your Aunt is looking for you, dear child.”

 "Oh,” it seemed like it was time for the other chores already. Alyssa climbed down from her lap and stood there, waiting. As usual, Melina blew her a kiss and just like that she disappeared. 

Alyssa reached out a hand catching the imaginary kiss before putting that hand on her heart. Sometimes she thought that doing that trapped the love in her heart since whenever she thought about the little-blown kisses, it made her heart feel happy and warm.

Alyssa ran back to the house and crept in from the back door; it made her feel mysterious like one of the sorcerers that Melina told her about. Melina seemed to think that a lot of the people she told Alyssa about were her children. Silly Mel, She was too young to have so many children. Mums with so many children were old and Melina had to be an old grandma to have so many of them.

Alyssa grinned thinking of her odd friend before putting a hand on the table and jumping up to sit on the tall kitchen chair by the kitchen counter. She pulled a bottle of water and picked it up with both of her hands. Then with unusually steady hands, she poured the water in a cup. No ice, since ice-cold water was forbidden because Dudley got a sore throat last month.

She hoped Dudley would ask for cold water soon as she gulped down the warm liquid.

"There you are" 

Alyssa's absent smile faded on hearing her Aunt's voice behind her. She jumped down from the tall chair and turned around after landing on her feet.Aunt Petunia is doing the thing again, Alyssa observed with a tilt of her head, the thing being her Aunt trying to look stern by pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes.Alyssa thought it just made her look funny.

She looked away after the first glance, looking at the design on her Aunts skirt instead. Her Aunt didn't like it when she looked into her eyes, something about being respectable. But Alyssa knew her Aunt didn't like her at all; She didn't know why but thought it wise to never ask.

"Dudley is away on a play date."

No further detail was required or provided. Alyssa just nodded, her hair bouncing up and down in the ponytail that Mel did for her and moved away from her, climbing the stairs to go to Dudley's room.

How could Dudley be so dirty? Alyssa wondered with surprise. She had cleaned his room just this morning. Well, she was used to it anyway since cleaning Dudley's room was the part of her chores along with the dusting of the house.

Opening the room, Alyssa wrinkled her nose. She was glad that she only had to do the dusting and put all the toys and things in the right place. The leftover food and the play slime smeared on the carpet made her sick as it was.

And so Alyssa started cleaning and putting Dudley's toys on the shelves where they belonged, his clothes in the laundry basket and his guns in the toy chest.

"Oh dear" Alyssa whispered looking at the jar in the chest that stared back at her, it was filled with money. She shook her head and put the toy she had next to it.

Now she knew who had been stealing from Aunt and Uncle.Poor Miss Marry, their maid, had been fired because of Dudley. She thought about telling on him but she knew that in the end Aunt Petunia would deny everything and she will be the one getting in trouble.

When the room looked relatively clean, Alyssa took one of the books from the untouched book cabinet and made her way to her room.

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

Alyssa sat on her bed with a happy bounce, she caressed the cover of the book in her hand. She was so glad that she taught herself to read from the books Aunt Petunia bought for Dudley so that 'Her little munchkin will turn into a genius'. 

Melina was very proud of her accomplishment and had even given her a gift! Plus it gave her something to do in her free time.

"Someone's been eating my porridge," She growled acting out the story she had read enough times to memorize.She grabbed the book and turned towards the painting on her wall.

"Someone's been eating my porridge and they ate it all up!" She cried in her 'baby bear' voice, imagining the wolf, stag, and dog on the wall were looking at her instead of the moon. 

She didn't really understand the painting Mel had gifted her but she loved it regardless of the fact.

"Someone's been sitting in my chair,"* Alyssa growled again before a giggle escaped her breaking the act.

So in a little room of a large house, the happy chatter of a small girl filled the air. And in a large castle beyond which eye can see, a foreboding atmosphere filled the air.

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

The next morning was pretty normal, Uncle Vernon as usual left for work early. Aunt Petunia left for tea at a friend's house taking Dudley with her and Alyssa was left alone.

Alyssa woke up by 6:00 am and made her bed. Then she as usual cleaned herself up and dressed. After that, she made her breakfast: Some veggies and fruits along with some milk and bread.

'' A Sailor went to sea sea sea

To see what he could see see see

But all that he could see see see

Was the bottom of the deep blue sea sea sea *" She sang as she dusted. She didn't really mind being alone. She could sing as loud as she wanted and dance in the living room. Something she wouldn't dare to do when her Aunt was at home. 

"Ah what beautiful voice my child has," Melina said as she picked up Alyssa and hugged her close.

"Mel" Alyssa squealed as she cuddled her. Melina always carried this...feeling around her. It made her feel happy and calm.

 "Let's go sit in the garden hmm?"

She nodded into Melina's shoulder, she was done with her chores anyways.

Sitting in the garden Alyssa put her head on Melina's lap and read one of Dudley's storybooks as Melina combed her hair with a golden comb that Alyssa was sure she didn't have before. 

Melina seemed sad today but she couldn't tell why and it made her uncomfortable and confused. Melina should be happy right? They got to meet twice a week whereas usually they only got to meet once every two weeks or if there was an emergency.

"Melina, why are you sad?" She finally put down her book and looked up to see if maybe she could tell what was wrong by looking at her. 

As Melina smiled at her down at her with sorrow filled eyes somehow Alyssa had a feeling that something was really wrong and her friend was going to be in the middle of it. 

That day as she caught the kiss in her hand, it felt like a goodbye longer than usual.

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

Vernon was working in his study when Alyssa made her unexpected entry. He glanced up before reading over the contract for his new property again. He didn't start the conversation. She would speak when she was ready. He hoped that she was here to talk about whatever was wrong with her; she had been acting weird lately.

''Uncle, can I ask you something?'' she asked shyly, her voice low. The only answer she got was a little hum as he signed on the contract before pulling another file towards him.''Can I...Can you please get me some more books?"

Vernon stopped his work and looked at her curiously. 'Books? For what? They haven't even started school yet'  He wondered about her somehow. His niece was..different to say the least. Not different in the bad way they had expected but different. 

If the unusually bright green eyes didn't make her stand out, her attitude did. She just made people love her. And that worked quite well for Vernon. Vernon Dursley may not like the forbidden wicked arts but he did believe in luck and fate. And it was his belief in luck that made him take in the girl, which turned out to be quite fortuitous. 

The girl,Alyssa bought them luck. 

His father always did say that some people bought luck into your life. Just like he did in his father's life. So when he got a promotion on the day she arrived and a deal that was on standstill a week after she arrived he accepted her for the blessing she was. 

Plus all of his partners were charmed by her and if he was honest with himself, he was too. So he decided to deal with this request as nicely as he could.

 He thought over his words before putting down his pen and looking at her, "You'll get books when you go to school, Alyssa. I do not think it is worth all the trouble, do you?'' He ran a hand over his balding head.

Alyssa's shoulders slumped, she was already expecting this. Her Aunt would throw the biggest tantrum if she found out that her Uncle was buying her books when Dudley didn't even know A B C.Her Uncle was not an angel but he was loads better than Aunt Petunia and Aunt Petunia didn't like it when he bought her something that he didn't for Dudley. They had learned that lesson when he had bought Alyssa some colors for her birthday and she had fumed for days.

During one of her Aunt and Uncle's fight, Alyssa had discovered that when she was a baby her Aunt wanted her to live in the cupboard under the stairs but her Uncle convinced her otherwise. Her Aunt would never let her have something her cousin could not have. 

Vernon grumbled looking her upset face ''There is a library about 10 blocks away but you would have to walk there whenever you want to read, your aunt will never let me walk you. I will tell Petunia to let you go so you don't bother her at home. I might have to add some chores to your list though.''

"Oh, thank you so much, Uncle!" Alyssa gave a bright smile before running out of the room. Jumping on the bed, she hugged her pillow with a grin. That night she slept imagining all the books she would be able to read at the library.

The next day saw a cute little girl walking down the street with her wavy hair bouncing as she made her way towards the library. She had made her way out of her house as soon as her chores completed.

A normal person would have walked the 10 blocks in 10 minutes. Alyssa was little so it took her twice the time. She had to cross the road many times and make sure she didn't get squished by the big people. She wondered if one day she would be as big as them. 

The library door was huge and wooden so she had to put all her weight to it to open it. She almost stumbled when it opened. She walked up the stairs leading to the desk making sure not to slip on the tiles. There was an old lady sitting behind it reading a book.

''Excuse me, Ma'am? Where can I find children's books?"

The lady looked down and adjusted her glasses.''In that room, dear", she pointed towards a room with brightly colored tables and chairs.

'Thank you'' Alyssa gave her a smile and walked towards the room leaving behind a smiling lady. Alyssa spent the next two hours reading books after books and getting lost in the world of imagination.

"Of course, there must be lots of Magic in the world, but people don't know what it is like or how to make it. Perhaps the beginning is just to say nice things are going to happen until you make them happen."* She looked around her room thoughtfully. 

The book she had borrowed from the library resting on her lap. Maybe...maybe she could do it too?...Like Matilda or..or like the people Melina told her about. 

Maybe.

She jumped down from her bed and wore her slippers. It was time to do some experiments, she thought with an eager smile.

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

"Go up, Please.",Alyssa requested the leaf with a smile. "I won't tell anyone, you can move now." Her eyes squinted with concentration. Her eyes flew open when she heard a soft giggle behind her.

"Do I want to know what you are attempting to do, Dear Heart?"

"Melinaa!" She turned around to hug her only for her arms to pass through her. "Wha- Mel why can't I hug you?"

Melina ran a hand over her arm. Alyssa stepped away, it tickled. 

"It is complicated, my dear...Why don't you tell me about what you were trying to do?"

Alyssa dropped her question suitably distracted, "I was trying to make the leaf fly! Like Matilda!" She threw her hands up to stress her point. 

Melina laughed softly, "Come here. Now if you want the leaf to fly you..."

Alyssa sat on the ground, her eyes fixated on her friend as she taught her how to use the gift she was born with.

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

"There must be something we could do!"

"Though it pains me to say it, Its not our decision to make" 

"Not our deci...You should know I won't back down easily." Her eyes blazed as she disappeared."I wouldn't expect anything less, Melina."

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

* 'A Sailor went to sea' is a nursery rhyme.

* The story Alyssa acts out is 'The Story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears'

* The lines are from 'The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett'.

[nervouscreatordreamercowboy]

Cracks

Cracks

It started with her fingers: the skin dried out as the cold months settled in and the costumes came out. If left untreated the patches would begin to crack open until crimson peaked through the gaps. The scabs spread up her arms, on the soles of her feet, into her scalp until the bleeding kept her from school for days. Her mother used to warn her each night before bed, “take care of your hands, they’re your God-given tools to take care of those around you. You must never let them crack, understand?” The question was left hanging in the air to haunt Paisley’s thoughts until sleep would finally relieve her. Superstitions were not uncommon in Meriden, but the belief in cracked skin was one that seemed to appear in the Hudson’s family alone.

Paisley had grown up on her Grandfather’s knee, pestering him with countless questions while he retold the story of their cursed bloodline. Deep down she knew he was exaggerating, by then she was big enough to phane the innocence and curiosity that used to linger on her mind. Her Grandfather would play up the great “horrors” their old relatives possessed, the most frequent being cracked skin that hid the truth beneath. Paisley drew those stories, reinventing the villains as misinterpreted beauties. Her Mother even bought her a book of geodes as a comparison to the hidden layer beneath their skin. Paisley often caught herself dreaming of these creatures, wondering what magnificence had been smothered by human’s irrational fears.

“Remember, princess,” he would always begin, “it’s only a fairytale. No one could ever be such a monster, not now not ever. Do you understand pumpkin?” She’d squeal as he tickled an answer out of her, laughing along with his granddaughter until their sides ached.

“What if there were a monster?” She’d manage once the game had ended and her imagination got the best of her tongue.

Her Grandfather considered the idea for a moment, then released a long sigh. “If there ever were another,” his twinkling eyes darkened with his words, goosebumps raced up Paisley's arms at the sudden change in tone. “If there ever were another beast,” he began again, steadier this time. “I would take my shotgun off the wall, hold it up to him,” his frail arms lifted into position as if with their own intentions. His limbs shook with the effort it took to hold them steady, fingers poised on an invisible trigger as he slowly continued, “and say ‘you got no place with us, and we ain’t afraid of you!’” With a tremendous shout, her Grandfather’s body shook with unseen fury as he fired the gun.

It took a moment for Paisley to realize that the tears welling in her eyes had slipped down her cheeks. Her stomach twisted, threatening to return her breakfast up onto the bearskin rug beneath them. Sliding off her Grandfather’s knee, she scrambled to the bathroom down the hall and promptly vomited. They didn’t go back to her Grandfather’s for the rest of the summer.

The trees had a mind of their own, bowing low in the wind and snapping back upright as the thunder rumbled solemnly in the darkening sky overhead. Paisley shivered, tugging her rain jacket tighter around her shoulders as she jogged to catch up with the others before the downpour could separate them completely. Katherine glanced back, dropping into a slow walk to join Paisley.

“You don’t have to come with us, you know.” Her perfect curls hung soaked in the rain, mascara stained her pink cheeks. “The cars are still unlocked if you want to turn around.”

Paisley considered the girl for a moment. It had only taken a single night for the girl to decide that perhaps the freak in the back of the classroom could be worthwhile, a bit of last minute fun before senior year drove her friends halfway across the country in search of overpriced schools and cramped living quarters. The invitation to join them had been simple, although Paisley wasn’t overly fond of the idea of passing notes in class, it would have been a crime to turn down Katherine White. The details of the excursion had been left unshared, not that Paisley minded. But finding herself tucked in Meriden’s most unpleasant hiking trail whilst stumbling through the freezing rain sometime after two am was not what she had in mind.

“I don’t want to turn around,” she managed through clenched teeth. “I’ll be okay, I promise.”

A flash of disapproval smeared over Katherine's features. Her red lips curled into a sneer, but before the words could top off her look, Michael called from up ahead, dragging her attention back to the group. “Where here!” His voice was a muffled shout through the sheets of rain.

“Fantastic!” Katherine chided back, grabbing hold of Paisley’s jacket as the faint outline of a cabin came into view. “Just try not to mess up too much,” she added as the pair reunited with the others on the steps of the house.

Michael tried the door handle, swearing as the lock refused to budge. Taking a slow step back, he surveyed the shattered windows and molding siding for a new entrance. Paisley felt Katherine’s grip tighten, “didn’t you mention a cellar entrance last time we were here, babe? Maybe one of us could go check it out.”

He considered the option a moment, pushing past annoyed couples to scan the side of the rotting building. “It could work,” he finally admitted, “but I don’t think the gap is big enough for any of us to get through.”

“Paisley is small enough,” the blonde beamed with delight, ushering their newest recruit down the steps. “It’s just to the right, the doors shouldn’t be too much of a squeeze for you. Once you’re inside just unlock the door for us and we’ll be ready to get this party going.”

Paisley kept her mouth shut as she trekked through the slick mud to the cellar doors. A rusted padlock hung on the handles, and one of the faded white doors had caved in at the base. Tentatively Paisley applied pressure to the weakened boards with her boot, easing her weight on until a satisfying snap sent more wood chips tumbling down the stone steps into the black room below.

“Any day now!” Katherine’s voice floated through the storm, pushing Paisley to reluctantly slide into the narrow gap.

The passage down was slick with fresh downpour, and the musty smell of aged memories invaded Paisley’s senses until she could hardly breathe. A quick try at the lights confirmed her suspicions that the home had been alone for quite some time now. Each creak of the wooden supports overhead reminded her of the grieving cries of an abandoned child, left alone in the woods to crumble apart.

Reaching into the depths of her jacket pockets, Paisley retrieved the flashlight Michael had lent her back at the parking lot. Flicking the switch, the damp room revealed its secrets, which mostly consisted of molding sitting chairs and forgotten dinner platters. Following the stairway leading up, Paisley let herself into the living space and promptly unlocked the door.

Michael swaggered into the room, arms open as he breathed in the smell of the cabin. Turning to the group, he grinned. “So, who’s up for a game of truth or dare?”

Paisley picked at the frayed end of the blanket as the teenagers giggled around her. The game had been dragged out an unnecessarily long time after Cindy and Ryan had decided that their dare was better off done away from the others, leaving Katherine, Michael, and Paisley to listen to the rain until it became apparent that the pair would not be rejoining them for quite some time.

“Alright then,” Michael sighed, taking a swig from one of the brown bottles Ryan had insisted on bringing, “truth or dare, Katherine?”

Katherine threw her head back in thought, sending a wave of golden curls down her nearly bare back. “I think I’ll go with truth this time,” she shared a wink with her boyfriend, “sorry to disappoint.”

Paisley felt her dinner threaten to find its own way out of her body.

“Tell us about your Dad.” He chuckled over his drink, “I don’t believe you’ve shared that yet.”

The color faded from the girl’s cheeks, her fingers dug into the blanket as she shook her head. “No, are you insane, Michael?”

“Aw baby, don’t be like that.” Michael frowned, “it’s just part of the game. Why do you have to be such a-”

Katherine held up a perfectly manicured hand, wrapping the other around herself as she stood. “Don’t call me that. I’m going back to the car.” All grace evaporated from her walk, Katherine managed to the door before facing them once again. “Can I have the keys, Michael?”

“Not until you give us the truth.” He snarled back, his rancid breath hitting Paisley like the heat of a roaring fire: unpredictable and dangerous. Katherine’s frame shrank at the sound of his voice, lowering to the base of the door until she sat shivering on the floor.

“I have a secret.” Paisley mustered, her hands trembled against her ruined jeans. She cast Katherine a hopeful look, sent a silent prayer that the girl wouldn’t tell the world, and lifted her cracked hands to her face.

She’d only managed the trick once in the seventh grade when her Mother wanted to prove a point to their pastor, and even then scars lined where the skin had broken. Paisley reminded herself of the worn book of geodes on her desk, imagined the beautiful crystals hidden beneath layers of grey rock, and dug her nails into the dry patches of her scalp. The skin beneath her fingers began to peel away, pulling strings of mucus along with it. Pink flesh curled back to reveal slick darkness beneath, green eyes blinked away the slime to peer at the screaming boy beside her. It felt incredible to be free again, even if only for a moment.

When Ryan and Cindy came rushing down the stairs, pulling their sneakers and jackets back on, Paisley was at the door escorting Katherine down the stairs saying something about leaving her phone in the car. Michael stared at the door as it shut, mouth agape as he attempted to form words that would never be believed.

As Paisley wrapped her jacket around her new friend, Katherine couldn’t help but wonder what she’d tell her parents when Michael McClain came pounding on their door claiming that he’d seen a demon, when all she’d seen was a new friend.

[pseudocitrus]

astray // amon x akira

lil hurt/comfort akiramon, another fic set after tg:re:121 :’) hope you’re having a good day! ☀

~1200 words, no content warnings, excerpt:

Once upon a time, going to a place like this would be utterly foreign to her, to the person that she was, to the entity named Mado Akira. But sometime, somehow, in the abyss of the past unconscious weeks, she became different. Sometime, somehow, all the things that Mado Akira used to care about — victory, revenge, duty, justice — came to mean nothing to whoever that she is now.

Furthermore. Mado Akira would have cared if she was caught kissing in public. Mado Akira might have gone for one quick kiss, but certainly not two, or three. She wouldn’t have leaned up for a fourth. She wouldn’t have been the one to pull away with effort, to whisper, Let’s go somewhere else. That isn’t Mado Akira.

Who am I now?

Once upon a time, going to a place like this would be utterly foreign to her, to the person that she was, to the entity named Mado Akira. But sometime, somehow, in the abyss of the past unconscious weeks, she became different. Sometime, somehow, all the things that Mado Akira used to care about — victory, revenge, duty, justice — came to mean nothing to whoever that she is now.

Furthermore. Mado Akira would have cared if she was caught kissing in public. Mado Akira might have gone for one quick kiss, but certainly not two, or three. She wouldn’t have leaned up for a fourth. She wouldn’t have been the one to pull away with effort, to whisper, Let’s go somewhere else. That isn’t Mado Akira.

Who am I now?

Apparently, at least, someone that would check in to a love hotel. She scans the room, hears Amon shut the door, feels his arms wrap around her, feels his mouth against her brow. Her entire body shivers against him. They make it to the bed, and she feels his weight, and his hand rests on the bottom of her shirt, and something in her panics, and she gasps, “Wait, wait, wait.”

He freezes.

“The lights,” she says quickly. “Turn them off.”

His eyes search her. “All of them?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“And the curtain?” It’s slightly open.

“Yes.”

He hesitates.

“It’s not you,” she clarifies. “It’s — it’s me. I don’t...I’m not...”

I’m not Mado Akira. Not the one that he actually knew. There aren’t mirrors underground but she saw it herself: the slight protrusion of her ribs, the slack of her belly, the scarring that had once been her small badges and now only looked like skidmarks and smears in the mud of her body, the trails of people desperately trying to flee her and only managing to join the cemetery growing in what used to be Mado Akira but is now both yawning emptiness and unwieldy, baggy, heavy, clumsy, weak, ugly flesh.

This was a bad idea. She twists, uncomfortably, and the words Let’s stop are in her mouth when stands. The lights flick out. The curtain sweeps shut, and they’re dense enough that the room is well and truly black. She exhales with some, just a little, relief. She hears his body return to her, the bed creaking as he crawls. He finds her again, with his hands, and his body aligns with hers, and he kisses her, and maybe her lips are stiff or her breath cold because he then murmurs, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers, which is a lie that’s easier to say than everything.

Now that it’s dark, she can’t read his expression, can’t know if he’s frustrated with her or pitying her or something else. He tries kissing her again and she tries to kiss him back. He stops, and she does too.

“It’s weird,” his voice says, quietly. “I admit that it is. That everything is. Is that how you feel too?”

“Maybe,” she allows.

Amon’s hand finds her cheek, cradles it. His palm is big, warm. His thumb traces the corner of her mouth.

“I thought all the time about how I pushed you away back then,” he continues softly. “I thought...I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. It’s meaningless, now, whatever I thought back then. Now I’m not...I’m just...”

He can’t gesture to himself in the dark, but she hears him, painting himself with missing fingers and whatever other small marks he’s referring to.

“It’s not you,” she repeats, “it’s me,” and his other hand rises to her face, framing her in the dark. He kisses her forehead, and at first she thinks that he missed, but then he kisses her left eye and then her right, with precision.

“Tell me,” he says. “Tell me everything.”

She snorts. Come on. As if she’d give breath to the even more disgusting things that reside inside of her, sticking to her throat and ribs like slime. But he kisses her again, and kisses her again, and his body shifts and presses exquisitely, as if to say I don’t mind being close to you, as if to repeat I will support you, as if to confirm I won’t dodge, and she swallows as the tiniest confession is squeezed out to the tip of her tongue, something dumb, something plain and generic, “I’m just...tired,” and then something even less worthy and unique, “I’m — lonely,” and then something even more stupid, “I’m ugly,” and then, something even more true, “I don’t know...who I am anymore.”

“You’re Akira,” Amon says, simply, and the sound of his voice cradling her bare name makes her eyes, somehow, sting. When she inhales next, her breath shudders a little, and she swallows, and he kisses her eyes again, this time following a stray tear to the curve of her ear.

His closeness to her is so warm and sweet that she feels overly tender, realizes too late that her body is still a bruise, and somehow that makes his weight even more exquisite. He repeats himself, in whispers, barely, in breaths — “Akira” — and she feels her way toward him, pulls his shirt from his pants, lays her palm on his hot skin, “Akira,” seeking shelter in him, a place to gather herself again, somewhere in the broad of his back, or the line of his jaw, or even in the spaces she finds when she seeks his hand and twines her fingers to his. He stiffens. Then he relaxes.

“Can I confess something to you too,” Amon murmurs.

She smiles. “If you have to.”

“I missed you.”

She wishes now that the lights were on after all, that she could see his expression.

“I...missed you. So now, I...that I’m here with you now, I’m...” He trails, gnawing, searching. “I wasn’t sure that I could come back. That there was any place to return to. Or that if there was, that I...that what I am now could ever...”

He’s at loss, and she’s struck by its familiarity. Maybe seeing him is unnecessary. She knows him. She traces the lines of his face and finds she doesn’t even need that to see his earnest expression, unsure but holding himself back, embarrassed maybe but absolutely serious. This time he isn’t on the floor on his thousandth push-up.

The memory lights up inside her like a small candle. A tiny flicker of the old Mado Akira: not dead, but not exactly the same either. Hungry, suddenly, for the sweetness of something she’s never eaten, a glimmer she can feel only now here, in the dark. A simple pleasure that has nothing to do with victory, or revenge, or duty, or justice.

“You missed me?”

“Yes...yes.”

Her legs part around his waist. She bucks softly against him and his groan of “Akira” crumples, a little. His forehead pushes into hers, hard, at the same time his hips sink against her, wanting.

“Show me.”