#I want humming bird fluid :/

[theloveinc]

hmmm … barbarian!Bakugo w/ an oopsie baby vs pro hero!Bakugo with an oopsie baby?

[simonbrain]

to the person who wanted a continuation of soapgaz from this, here you go <3

truthfully, you weren't that mad at johnny.

yes, it hurt, but could you fully blame him? he looked like he was getting his brain fucked out of his head, having no choice but to take the cruel thrusts his lieutenant was laying on him. you swear he slurred out a few apologies before simon stuck his fingers in the poor man's open, drooling mouth, and then you couldn't process anything other than your tears and the overwhelming urge to kick simon's head in.

but just because you weren't too pissed at johnny, that didn't mean the other two members of the team were okay with it. after all, this was his punishment just as much as simon's. what good would it be if he got away with every little thing he did?

"take good care of him, will ya?" price hums, patting kyle's back. the latter nods obediently and mutters a hoarse yessir, already eager to get his hands on the bastard and ruin him.

—

johnny doesn't know how long they've been at it; he only remembers kyle giving him a very brief, sweet kiss before he was pushed down on the bed and his pants were being tugged off, long forgotten on the floor of kyle's room.

"garrick, fuck—" he wheezes, fighting against the urge to roll his hips up. he received a slap to his cock along with a harsh hair pull when he first tried that and had no choice but to take kyle's snarled warning to heart. fuck, he's sweating so much, globs of pre-cum and lube creating a filthy, sticky mess all over his lap and the bed as kyle works his hands over his weeping cock.

"can't keep it in your pants, eh? jus' had to let this cock o'yours think for you," kyle teases, drinking in the way it twitches and spills in his hands. "and you upset the poor bird—sweet thing was all dewy-eyed. that what you were going for, tavish?"

before johnny can deny his words, the fist that holds his cock in an iron grip begins gliding up and down, and he just about chokes at the feeling of kyle's palm sliding over his sensitive tip.

"c— cannae take it, garrick, please—"

"i asked you a question."

"nae, for fucks sake!" johnny cries, letting out a pitiful little whine when the latter squeezes tight, almost too painful for him to handle. he whimpers out a soft sorry and grits his teeth when kyle clicks his tongue, shaking his head.

"behave. should be thankful 's me and not the cap, or even ghost." kyle huffs, loosening his grip just a little. "better hope he's nice to you at training tomorrow after his lil meeting with the captain."

tears clump johnny's eyelashes together as he's denied yet another orgasm, thighs shaking and chest heaving when kyle removes his hands right before he can peak, cock twitching uncontrollably on his belly. "'m sorry, kyle, jus' wanna cum," he groans, loud and unabashed. his hands itch to grab onto the other, but he's not allowed to touch, so he settles for putting on a pathetic display of rolling his hips, poor cock bouncing against him. the movement feels good, but it's not enough, and he swears he'll get himself off if kyle denies him again.

"you solid?" kyle's sweet voice melts away the heavy feelings swirling in johnny's chest, and he nods, forcing his hips to still. "need words, mactavish."

"i'm fine." johnny musters up what he hopes is an acceptable answer, not keen on being edged any longer.

kyle hums, sliding his hand over johnny's thighs, eyes trailing down appreciatively at the mess they've made. "i could let you cum, but..." he sucks in a breath—at the same time, johnny lets out a soft groan, warm hands working his cock again. "i'm a bit offended, soap. was i not good enough last time we shagged? is that why you went after ghost?"

"yer wrong, gaz, it isnae my fault—"

"shut it," kyle snaps, squeezing a fist around the head, fluids coating his hand as johnny thrashes against the bed. "i thought i was a good lay, apparently not. or are you that much of a slag?" kyle croons condescendingly, chuckling lowly at the sounds tearing through the other's throat and the desperate shakes of his head, denying it.

his poor cock's not helping his case, though. it throbs intensely at the dirty words and drips all over kyle's pretty hands, balls aching for release.

"is that it, johnny?" he purrs lowly, sliding up next to johnny on the bed, hand still wrapped tightly around his cock. he leans down to kiss him, swallowing all the sweet little sounds spilling out johnny's mouth. his hand moves a little faster, granting the smallest amount of relief, but it's just not enough.

when they break apart, johnny grits out his denial. he knew that simon had a sweet thing at home, but he was told that she was okay with it. he's not totally at fault; it's all simon.

gaz just tuts when he attempts to explain.

(johnny does feel guilty, though; he didn't stop his lieutenant from ravaging him right in front of you or shy away from your gaze. in fact, he became even more shameless, shoving his hips back and whining out barely coherent apologies. he hopes you'll let him make it up to you properly some day. preferably between your legs.)

"nah, i think you're jus' greedy. is it cause i'm not taken? that why you said yes to ghost?" kyle huffs, cruelly twisting his fist around the head of johnny's cock. the pretty smile on his face sharpens into something mean at the broken sob he gets in return.

johnny doesn't know anything anymore; he can't even decipher left from right. all he can process is kyle lifting his hand off a second too late and the unsatisfying feeling of a ruined orgasm rolling over him in ferocious waves, not nearly enough to satiate him for even a moment.

kyle shushes his heavy sobs, whispers promises that he'll let him cum next time as he slides down the bed, and picks his sensitive cock back up. this time, kyle actually puts his mouth on him, searing hot and so soft, and johnny's seeing white.

[eliasorchard]

you've been working hard, let him treat you

— smut, soft sex, fingering, you go on vacation with him, he buys you gifts and anything else you deserve

"darling?"

three knocks. no answer.

"i'm coming in." the blond opens the door to the bedroom, his coat taken off and draping comfortably on his arm - his smile is gentle, caring and cheerful as he steps in.

as wonderful as his day went at the university, he'd missed you terribly; which is why the first thing he thought of was to hold you in his embrace, maybe place a few pecks & kisses here & there until you're laughing & squirming at how ticklish his kisses feel.

william's eyes widen in surprise at the sight - watching you sob heavily with all kinds of gross fluids running down your eyes and nose was something he hadn't been expecting.

"oh, my poor, sweet girl.." he tuts softly, immediately making his way to you and wrapping you in his arms. "what's wrong, dear?" his fingers push the stray strands on hair away from your face so he can look at you carefully.

you can't seem to face him, not like this, anyway. you're clinging tight onto him, face buried into the crook of his neck as you wail some more. "studies.." you mutter out, voice cracking. "it's too much for me.. i feel utterly helpless. i just can't- you know? everything seems to be crashing down and- and—"

your voice falters. you can't speak with that lump in your throat that refuses to be swallowed. "alright, i understand. i understand, dear. shh.. shhh.." he cooes, eyebrows furrowed in concern. "it's okay.."

"good morning, dearest." soft lips against your forehead. you hum sleepily, eyes opening. it's bright - did you pass out from the exhaustion of crying too hard last night?

"mmm.. morning." you rub your eyes, sitting up in bed. now that your eyes aren't as blurry as it was a few seconds ago, he looks like he's getting ready. you look at the time. "getting ready for university so early?"

"the university?" william chuckles softly. "no, my dearest - i'm getting ready for a little vacation, you and i." he strokes your hair. "now," he kneels down on the edge of the bed, gathering your sleepy face into his warm hands and places a kiss on your nose. "how about we have some breakfast and you get ready? i've done all your packing already."

waves crashing against the shore, the sun out and about, birds chirping joyfully above the clouds; what was going on? the bell boy's dropped your luggage and his, putting it away properly.

it's massive inside. the ceilings are high - fitting an opulent chandelier on the ceiling of each room. the walls have expensive wallpaper on them, each room has large panes for windows, a king-sized canopy bed, a room service system, welcome drinks and meals, instruments - practically everything one could ask for.

"do you like it?" he whispers softly into your ear, away from you by mere millimeters. the short distance with him and him whispering into your ear like that - it makes you tingle. his hands are behind his back, ruby red eyes gentle and lips smiling.

"liam!" you exclaim, shocked. "like it? i love it!"

"hmm.." he hums, satisfied with your reaction - especially when you push yourself up on your toes to press a kiss against his cheek, arms wrapped around his neck. he leans down to make things easier for you. "i'm glad. a fitting suite for my hardworking love."

the next few days are spent in absolutely leisure, spending your days with william lazily, always entangled with his limbs, calling room service everytime you wanted to do something mundane. it was a nice change, it felt like you finally had somewhat control of your life; instead of it being hurdled away from the overwhelmingness of your studies, instead.

it's one of those usual, relaxing days from your vacation with him again. the two of you just returned from strolling around the beach, enjoying a little tropical drink in hand. and now the two of you are back in bed, your back against his chest; his face nuzzled comfortably into your hair and his arms wrapped around you with ease.

you've been trying to get into a comfortable position for a few minutes. perhaps it was the caffeine at work. you back up against him again - he shudders.

"(name)." his voice is uneven; almost pleading. "it's almost one, please go to sleep." his hips move back.

"oh, sorry. am i disturbing you too much?" you make a small movement to turn back, which causes him to let out a small, barely audible moan - almost a huff.

"(name).."

that's when you feel it; the bulge pressed against your backside. vibrant shades of reds and pinks creep up from your neck to your face until you're flushed crimson.

"william..?"

william presses a small kiss on your neck, the most sensitive spot of it to shush you; he's embarrassed as well. "...it's only natural." he says. "i can't help it; not when i'm around you." a pause. "i apologise if this is uncomfortable, if you'd like i can go sleep on the-"

"nonono, wait." you shake your head, determined not to be distanced from him. you turn your head over to your shoulder, meet his ruby eyes and a face that mirrors your own blushing one. "i- i um, i understand. as you said; it's only natural."

a small silence fills the room.

"..would it be selfish," his hand caresses your hip, fingers kneading and palming lazily over the soft flesh; feather-like touches, as if they're simply hovering over you. "if i ask that i may indulge in you — even in late hours?"

you blink in surprise. a momentary pause, and then your lips break out into a small grin. "it wouldn't."

"that's great, then." his hot breath fans over your neck, making you shiver. his hand travel down south, pushing up your dress l. his long, slender fingers push aside your panties and you stifle back a moan. "mmhh.."

william's middle and index finger rub small circles with slow and careful precision at your clit, making you jolt a little at the stimulation. your legs spread.

"liam," you sigh breathily. "that feels good."

hearing your voice, something about the sweetness, something about how soft and quiet it is makes him chuckle softly. "go on, darling. let me hear what other sounds you can make." he eases his middle finger in and he groans at how wet you feel.

"look at you," he whispers in your ear, voice sultry. "clamping down on my fingers - how wet you feel."

william's fingers pump back and forth, in and out, knuckles pressed against your folds, fingers as deep as they can go. "ungh.." your fingers dig into his arm.

"shh, shh.." he cooes, trying to ease you. you can feel it; the painful erection against your back. you're not a bad lover, you want to help him and more than anything else, you want him. inside of you, as soon as possible. "liam? can we plea-" you reach behind.

"easy, my love." he murmurs. "all in due time."

william fingers you much faster now, curling his fingers upwards - pressing that sweet spot, that sweet spot riiight up there just perfectly. "i, as well, want nothing more than to feel myself be coddled inside you."

you moan out, feeling your stomach in knots. "hngh.." you whimper and your toes curl. you're squirming now, feeling lightheaded - it's coming, you're coming. william would be a fool not to notice.

he makes a few more curls of his fingers, pressing against your g-spot with just right pressure. "that's it.." he nibbles on your bare shoulder. "there we go.."

"nngh..!" and it's so strong; your orgasm, with how skilled his fingers are. you're trembling, eyes rolling to the back of your head, fingernails digging into his forearms, feeling your high hit you like a truck.

you're still seeing stars when he lines up against your entrance, tapping at your folds with his tip. you turn your neck to kiss him sloppily; a mess of saliva and hot gasps and breaths against each other. your eyes fall down to his loins and it's almost embarrassing.

the tip has gone from a creamy pink to a darker and more dull pink; swollen, by the looks of it. "do you see what you do to me, love?" he questions, his voice half in pants and shaky whispers.

"ah!" you gasp, feeling him push himself in. it's so warm, so wet and so soft inside of you that he has to take a few breaths to compose himself and not cum on the spot.

william and you are connected so intimately. he looks down to see where the two of you are joined and he doesn't see a slither of space. he shivers at the sight.

"mnhh.." he hums, pressing further into you and pulls you further to him. you envelope his lips with yours; warm and wet. he nibbles down on your bottom lip as he rolls his hips.

"mm.. yeah, right there.." you gasp when he hits a deeper spot inside of you that no one has before.

"hngh, so good." you babble into his mouth. his cock has a delicious curve & that has you drooling eveytime the tip comes in contact with the cervix.

his skin is damp and so are you from sandwiching yourselves against each other. he pushes your hair away to see you better, presses a kiss on the crown of your head as he fucks you. and he fucks you good.

"hm.. hmhh.." william is grunting softly. you can feel this man throbbing inside of you. his fingers grasp the flesh on your soft hips & he dips his face into the crook of your neck. "i love you... i love you, (name).."

he's close-and quite frankly, so are you. your legs tremble. "angh, please please, i'm going to cum-" he feels you clench around him hard and that is all it takes before a flash of white sputters and paints itself inside of your gummy walls. his orgasm triggers your own as you shudder and shiver, squirm and writh in his embrace as you cum around his cock; moaning and gasping his name and incomprehensible pleads.

you black out.

when dawn arrives and you awaken from your slumber, you are bombarded with dozens of gifts littering the already huge bedroom.

how much could this man have bought and spent to fill this large room anyway? you are soon pulled away from your thoughts when you see william enter the room, shirtless, hair wet, droplets of water dripping down his skin and a towel wrapped around his waist.

"eye candy." you murmur to yourself, but not small enough for him not to hear. the man chuckles.

"come, my dear. i do not know about candy but i have brought us breakfast. i figured you would need some energy to open up all these gifts, anyway."

[carriedawatermelon]

Ronance kinktober, chapter five. In which Mike makes a plan, Robin has a problem, and Nancy goes for a ride. (I’m sorry; that’s terrible. I will not be changing it.)

Prompt: Riding

“No,” Robin says, so firmly that every head in the room turns to look at her. She’d been propped against the wall but now she’s standing, arms crossed and jaw set in a hard line, everything about her normally fluid body gone rigid. 

“It’s not like-“

“No,” Robin says again, taking a step closer to Mike, Dustin and Lucas parting quickly to let her. “Try again.”

He’s scowling, in a staring contest with Robin, a repurposed map and figurines set out before him on the table in their basement. “You got a better idea?”

“Yeah,” Robin says, so close now that he’s forced to look up at her. “Stop treating your big sister like she’s expendable, shit bird.”

“Robin,” Nancy says softly, at the same time Mike says, “I wasn’t-“ Robin ignores them both. 

“You were. You are. And it’s bullshit. So try again. Or let someone else give it a shot. I don’t care, really. But this,” she gestures at the map, where an elf figure stands in for Nancy, alone in the upside-down, if only for a little while. An advance guard, Mike had called it. “This is bullshit. This is a death sentence. And I think you’d realize that, if you thought about it for more than half a second.”

“I’ve thought about this!” He pushes to standing, and he’s got more than an inch on Robin, but it’s enough to make her tilt her head, just slightly, to keep their eyes locked. Mike looks smug, and Nancy’s stomach turns, but before she can intervene, Robin’s in his space, forcing him to take a step back, and the smug look is gone. 

“That makes it worse,” she hisses. “You realize that, right? That you looked at literal hell and thought, let me send my sister in there alone?”

“So you go in with her!” He says, like he’s made a point, but Robin only rolls her eyes.

“Obviously,” she says, scathing and dismissive, and he wilts, just a little. “If for some reason Nancy and the rest of the people in this room agreed to this fucked up plan, I would be there with her. Fuck whatever else you wanted me to be doing. But even though I’m pretty good with a Molotov and a baseball bat, I’m not a good shot. Definitely not as good as her. None of us are, which you also know, and have somehow decided to treat as an expendable skill belonging to an expendable person. Your sister.” Mike pales, but Robin doesn’t let up. “I would throw myself in front of her, and I’d be dead, and then she’d be alone. Again. So no,” she finishes, stepping back and crossing her arms. “This is not the plan. Call me when you have something real.” 

With that, she turns on her heel and pushes out through the basement door into the night. 

“She’s right,” Steve says, eyes tripping between the door and Mike and Nancy. 

“Yeah, man. She is. And anyway, there’s no way El would go for it,” Dustin adds. 

Nancy stays quiet, watches as Mike fists his hair in frustration, Will quiet on the sofa behind him. She catches Steve’s eye and tilts her head to the door and he nods. 

She’s about made it when Mike says, over the familiar cacophony of boys’ voices, “Nancy!” 

She turns back, waits, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t…I wasn’t trying to…”

“Sure,” she says, because he’s not making anything any better and she’s tired, so tired. “I’m going to find Robin.” She grabs a walkie and holds it in the air. “Call me if there’s an emergency.” 

Robin’s not hard to find, the light to Nancy’s room on, and so Nancy circles the house, goes past her dad, oblivious in the living room, and waves briefly at her mom at the kitchen table with Holly. 

“Robin looked sad,” Holly says, frowning, and Nancy steps in and kisses the top of her head. 

“She’ll be okay. Maybe in a little while we can come down and play Candy Land?” Holly’s face lights up at that, and Nancy kisses her head again, smiling at her mom. “Thanks for letting her in.” 

Her mom hums and nods. “You know we’re always happy to have her.” Her mom knows Robin’s mom, had frowned in a very particular way the first time Nancy mentioned Robin would be coming over. “Sheila’s girl,” she’d said, and Nancy had been a little worried until her mom had fed Robin extra lasagna and fussed over her and given her a massive hug before she left the next morning. Maybe she thinks that’s why Robin’s sad, and it’s true often enough that Nancy doesn’t offer any other excuse. 

“Thanks,” Nancy says again, and then makes her way up the stairs. 

Robin’s on the bed, shoes kicked off and jacket hanging from Nancy’s desk chair, the sleeves of her black and blue sweater pushed up to her elbows, which are sharp angles at her knees, arms wrapped tightly around herself. 

“Hi,” she offers quietly, and Nancy kicks off her own shoes and crawls into bed next to her. “I’m sorry,” she starts, but Nancy kisses whatever she was going to say next away. 

This is new, months’ worth of build-up and two college deferrals culminating in one desperately nervous, beautifully fumbling kiss at the end of a patrol shift a month ago. Nancy is stupidly in love with the person who’d become her best friend, and she finds herself acting like it, which would be mortifying except for the way that it makes Robin light up or look at her like she’s a dream or kiss her so fiercely she can barely breathe. 

Now, Robin’s arms unlock from her legs, coming to frame Nancy’s face, fingers tracing her cheekbones and jaw, soft and worshipful. Nancy presses at her legs until she gets the idea, straightens them so that Nancy can climb into her lap, thighs bracketing Robin’s and arms wrapped around her neck. 

“Hi,” Nancy says eventually, breath and words unsteady. “Are you okay?”

Robin’s face clouds with confusion, and Nancy kisses the wrinkle in her forehead. Her hands now rest on Nancy’s waist, and her thumbs press lightly into soft flesh, affectionate. 

“I’m okay.” Her head tilts as she takes Nancy in. “Are you okay? That was…that was…I’m sorry. I know you can defend yourself, obviously, like, you definitely don’t need me in there acting like an asshole, but I saw his stupid fucking plan and that stupid fucking elf that he…that was supposed to be you, and I just…” She collapses a little, shoulders hunching as she sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t be,” Nancy says. “Please don’t be sorry. Not for that. Not for…”

If it had been Steve or Jon or anyone else, really, Nancy might’ve bristled. Would’ve bristled, would’ve pushed to the front to tell Mike herself that the plan wasn’t going to work, voice loud no matter how tired and hurt she was. With Robin, she hadn’t felt the need. With Robin, she hasn’t felt the itch that had been ever-present with Jon and Steve, the constant, needling reminder that someone wanted her to be kept, to be possessed. It wasn’t fair to them, probably, but it was true. With Robin, it isn’t. Maybe because Nancy feels for the first time that it’s mutual, that she wants to keep and be kept, that Robin wants the same.

She kisses Robin again, hard, teeth nipping at her bottom lip, and her stomach burns when Robin whimpers, grips tighter at her waist, the fabric of her shirt wrinkling against her skin. Robin noses into her neck, wraps her arms around Nancy and pulls her closer. 

“He’s not allowed to do that,” she says, breath hot against Nancy’s skin. “I won’t let him.”

Nancy combs her fingers through Robin’s hair, scratches at her back. “I know, baby. I know.” She kisses Robin’s temple. “You’re not allowed to throw yourself in front of me. You hear me?”

“You’d do the same thing,” Robin says matter-of-factly, only a tinge of petulance, and Nancy can’t argue, but she isn’t happy about it.

“I love you,” she says instead, throwing away all her worries about too much, too soon because that means nothing when it’s the end of the world and it’s her best friend in her arms, anyway. Robin’s breath stutters against her collarbone, body tightening against Nancy’s. Nancy kisses her temple again, softly. 

When Robin pulls back to look at her, her eyes are big and her voice is raspy but unwavering. “I love you, too.”

The kiss moves quickly from soft to demanding, Robin’s hands scratching down her back to the hem of her shirt and Nancy’s got it off and over the side of the bed immediately, unclasping and tossing her bra to join it without hesitation. 

Robin’s mouth is on her as soon as it’s gone, sucking at Nancy while her other hand roughly palms, and Nancy arches into the contact, moaning into her knuckles with one hand and keeping Robin close with the other, fingers tight in her hair. 

“God, I can’t wait until my parents leave next week. Want to hear you.” She licks at Nancy’s nipple, kisses and sucks again before moving to the other side, switching her hand while Nancy rocks her hips down in search of friction. 

She finds none, and, desperate, reaches down to the button and zipper of her jeans, undoing them and forcing herself from Robin’s body so that she can shimmy them off and throw them to the floor along with her underwear. Robin’s eyes watch closely as she climbs back onto the bed, back onto her, and her hands run hot over Nancy’s skin, grabbing at her ass and scratching over her back. 

Her mouth is busy at Nancy’s neck, kissing and whispering affirmations and praises that have Nancy half out of her mind. It had been a very exciting discovery, that Robin’s as free with her words when she’s touching Nancy as she is the rest of the time. Her lips travel lower, and Nancy’s about to start touching herself when Robin’s hand reaches between her legs, finally. 

Nancy’s sigh escapes at the same time as Robin’s groan. “So wet for me, Nance. God. Feel so good.” She slips a finger inside, then two, and it’s so good, exactly what Nancy needs. Her hips rolls down and Robin meets her movement for movement, her free hand resting on Nancy’s hip as she breathes heavily and watches. 

It makes Nancy burn, Robin’s eyes on her as she rides her, and she wants to give Robin all of it, wants her to see exactly how much Nancy wants, so she raises herself off of Robin’s fingers regretfully and puts a little more distance between them, adjusting so that she’s straddling one of Robin’s legs, her own able to spread wider. Settled, she takes Robin’s hand and positions it back between her legs, gliding her fingertips over her clit and then positioning them at her entrance. 

Robin’s eyes are all over her, roaming from her own fingers waiting between Nancy’s legs up and up and when she makes it to Nancy’s eyes, Nancy holds her gaze and sinks down, head back and chest out, showy and as loud as she can be without risking a very awkward knock at her door. (It’s locked. It’s always locked these days, and if her mom has noticed she says nothing.) 

“Nancy,” Robin says, shaky. “Fuck.”

She raises herself up and sinks down again, and when she’s sure Robin isn’t going to move, she brings her own hands to her tits, playing with her nipples and sighing at the feeling. 

She’s been having sex with Robin for about three weeks, and she has, to put it simply, felt like a massive slut, wanting and desperate and giving everything she has away without even the smallest bit of hesitation. She has exactly no regrets, and Robin looks at her like she’s the best thing in the world and gives just as much of herself. Nancy’s obsessed with the ways they’re different, the way they fit together in what they want and how they want it. It’s so good she has, on more than one occasion and so embarrassed she can hardly stand it, cried. 

She isn’t crying now, though. She’s sighing Robin’s name and feeling Robin curl her fingers just the way Nancy is learning she likes, and she’s asking, begging, for, “More.”

Robin sucks at her collarbone as she adds another finger, biting and causing Nancy to cry out louder than she should, the sharp pain and the stretch exactly what she wants. 

“Shh, baby,” Robin says, confident and soothing and making Nancy somehow wetter. She brings her hand from Nancy’s hip to her lips, and Nancy sucks two fingers into her mouth happily. Slut, she thinks, and then wonders how it would feel if Robin called her one, too, shivers and files that away for later. 

“You look so good,” Robin says, leaning back again to watch Nancy work herself against her fingers. “I wonder…” She bites her lip and Nancy sucks harder on her fingers, hollowing her cheeks in encouragement. “Fuck. God you’re so good at that. I wonder if…maybe I can get a strap-on,” she says, coloring even as her eyes grow heavier at what Nancy assumes is the thought of it. 

She moans around Robin’s fingers, nodding, pulling free to voice her agreement, mouth wet. “Oh my god, yes.” She takes the fingers back, pushing her head so far forward she nearly gags, and imagines riding Robin’s that way, imagines taking her into her mouth. She hadn’t ever thought about it before. She is going to have trouble thinking about anything else, now. 

Her hips move faster and Robin groans, pulling her hand away from Nancy’s mouth and down, finding her clit with her thumb. Nancy clenches around her, thighs burning as she moves hard and fast, wanting and wanting. She takes a hand from her breast and tugs Robin forward to take its place, and it sends her over the edge, body folding into Robin’s as she comes, shaking and biting into the fabric of her shirt to keep herself quiet. 

Robin’s hand is moving up and down her back, holding her close as she comes down, and when she asks, with a gentle pull at the fingers still inside, “Okay?” Nancy nods against her and whimpers a little at the loss of them, the empty feeling. 

With both hands free, Robin wraps her up fully, pulls so that Nancy is sideways in her lap, pressing kisses to her head and cheek and nose, along her jaw. “I love you. I love you. God, Nancy, you’re so gorgeous. You’re everything. You’re everything.”

Nancy curls further into her, forehead against her neck, and basks in it, tilts and presses her own kisses to Robin’s chin and strong jaw. “I love you,” she echoes, stomach fluttering at the novelty of saying it aloud. They’re quiet and close, and Nancy falls into a calm, happy place. 

“Holly was worried about you,” she says eventually, nuzzling at Robin’s cheek. “I told her we might play Candy Land.” 

“Are you gonna accuse me of cheating again?”

“You were cheating.”

“Not the question I asked.”

“You’re absurd. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I was trying to help her win,” Robin says, and Nancy grins at the pout she can hear in it. 

“She needs to learn how to lose.”

“Not from me.”

“Hmm,” Nancy responds, giving up the argument in favor of a kiss. “Let me put pajamas on and we can go play.”

“I don’t love that plan.”

“I’m not playing Candy Land naked.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I do.” She presses a kiss to Robin’s cheek and climbs out of bed. “You need to change, too, so Holly doesn’t ask questions.”

She does, pulling on boxers and an oversized t-shirt while Nancy pulls out a matching light blue set for herself. Before they open the door, Nancy presses another kiss to her lips, and Robin smiles into it, easy. 

[milliesfishes]

꣑ৎ౨ৎAngel Eyes꣑ৎ౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: innocent reader pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: billy comes across you in the woods author’s note: thank you @a-romantics-guide-to-life for letting me write for this! it's just the sweetest idea- I love Sleeping Beauty so much <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The west had a myriad of secrets hidden beneath its tanned, roughened skin. Its' bones were cacti, sharp and unforgiving, and when split open, there was not blood, but mysteries pouring forth.

Billy was well aware of the presence of what was untold when he was one with nature, but he dared not seek it out. He, a mere mortal, wouldn't dare try to even guess what lay beyond his understanding. Maybe the fact served him well after it led him to you.

The sun had been beating at his back for hours, the spindly leaves of the trees providing little relief. He and his horse were venturing out in search of a source of water, any source of water. He would have settled for a puddle at this point. But so far, the only hope of moisture was beading on his upper lip.

It had been an exhausting day out riding, in search of civilization. Or more accurately, civilization that didn't scrawl his face on a wanted poster. It was hard thing to come by these days. His reputation was muddied beyond belief, and he wished for simpler times when it had even seemed possible to clear his name. Now it was rare for a person he came across not to have read of his wrongdoings.

Billy peeled his eyes, half shut from the heat. Only green greeted them, and he sighed in frustration. The canteen on the saddle was long ago empty, and he knew the creature upon whose back he sat was growing weary from lack of fluid as well. The day was ending, the sun's rays rosily waving goodbye as it sunk over the hills.

Swallowing dryly, Billy was about to turn in the other direction when he heard a peculiar sound in the middle of the woods. Singing. Not the birds...no, this was definitely a person.

He decided to head in that direction. Maybe the source of the song knew where he could look for water. He guided his horse steadily through the trees, the melodic sound growing closer. He couldn't help but admire it. The echo of the woods enhanced the quality, a delightful vibrato rippling the previous quiet.

Like a moth to a flame, the voice trailed him to a river. Maybe it had been his imagination, some muse from tales of old taking pity on a poor outlaw in need of liquid. Billy leapt from the horse, who had already dipped its head to begin drinking. He unstrapped the canteen and lowered it to the gently flowing water, filling it to the brim.

Lifting it to his lips, he drank nearly half of it before lowering the can, chest heaving for air. He bowed his head in relief, silently thanking the heavens above. The voice had stopped. It must have been a mirage, he figured.

And then it started up again, even lovelier and closer than before. Billy lifted his head, looking around for the source. His eyes brightened when he saw you kneeling at the riverbank on the other side, dipping your hand into the water and humming to yourself.

Instantly he was drawn in by the vision of you. Wonderfully beautiful with the happiest expression he'd ever seen on a person, Billy felt himself melt in the sunshine. Now he really knew he was imagining things. How often did a man come across such a fantasy by his much needed water; a dream come true?

He stared at you, convinced of this until you lifted your head, singing coming to a stop. A bright smile split your cheeks, and you lifted a hand in a graceful wave. "Hello!"

Hesitantly, still unsure that you were real, he waved back. You got to your feet and brushed off your skirt, revealing that you were barefoot. Delicately, you hopped over three prim little stones to his side of the river, coming close to him. Billy was taken aback. He was used to folks being scared to come close to him. But here you were.

"Are you from around here?" you questioned in honeyed tones, and he could have overdosed on sugar right then and there.

"No," he found himself saying. "'m just ridin' by."

"Oh!" You seemed to perk up at that. "I never met anybody from far away before. My aunts wouldn't allow it."

He couldn't help a smile at that. You had an innocent quality to you that he found downright adorable. "Dunno if they'd like you meetin' me then. 'specially since I'm...y'know."

"What?" you tilted your head and then he felt a little silly by expecting you to know who he was. Of course, this paragon of lovability sheltered by her guardians wouldn't know.

Shaking it off, he shrugged. "Nothin'. Just a strange man in the woods."

"You're right, they probably wouldn't like it," you shrank back a little, but then seemed to lighten again. "They aren't here right now though. Every month they go into town for a week and trade what they grow in our garden." With an enthusiastic smile, you said, "So that means I can talk to you!"

Billy wanted to sink into the ground and become the earth that grew flowers for you to wear in your hair. He wanted to wrap you in a cloud and protect you from any semblance of bad that dared poke its head your way. Instead he smiled back. "'s good news, then."

"Yes!" you sat on the riverbank, patting the spot beside you.

He was helpless to resist. Kneeling beside you, he commented, "I heard your singin'."

"Did you?" A rosy blush decorated your cheeks. "I don't usually sing for anybody."

"It was pretty," he assured you, sitting back on his hands. "Led me right to the water when I was dyin' of thirst."

"Did it really?" When he nodded in confirmation you clasped your hands delightedly. "I'm very glad I was singing, then."

If his eyes could have turned into hearts they would have. You were gold and jewels and flowers and sunlight and rainbows and everything beautiful and good in the world. Finding you was like finding hidden treasure, one of the desert's beautiful secrets revealed to him.

Billy sat with you beside the water for what felt like minutes but really stretched hours, just listening to your voice like music. He was thoroughly captivated by you in every possible way. You were a collage of every wonderful thing all encapsulated in the body of a beautiful woman.

He could have listened to you for hours more still, but you looked up at the newly sprouted moon, eyes wide like the centers of daisies. "I'm sorry, I hadn't realized how late it's gotten."

"It's no problem," he promised, reaching out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. You smiled softly- not that you'd stopped in the first place, but the quality seemed to ebb and flow in positive directions like the river. "I'm just gonna set up camp any old place. Ain't like I'm in a hurry."

Lips parting, you blinked at him. "You won't ride into town?"

"Sounds like it's a while away," he smiled, getting to his feet. "Ain't no problem- I'll just find a nice tree t' sleep under."

You bounced on the heels of your feet, seeming to contemplate this. Then your face brightened with an idea. "Why don't you come stay at my house?"

He chuckled at your enthusiasm. "I'm a stranger, sweetheart. Dunno if your aunts would like it all that much."

You gave him a fond look. "We aren't strangers anymore, Billy." His name on your tongue was a wondrous sound, and he hoped nobody would ever say his name again as not to sully the memory. "And besides, if you wanted to hurt me you would have already."

Your innocent assessment made him glad it was him who discovered you and not a different outlaw. The thought made him want to keep you safe, and he decided to accept your offer if only to do that. Besides, it would be nice to sleep under a roof even just for one night.

He shouldn't have been able to keep being surprised by you, but he was. You took his rough hand in yours as if you'd been doing it all his life and led him through the trees, his horse's reins bunched in the fingers of his other.

As he followed you through the trees, he had but one thought.

The sweetest girl in town doesn't even know she is.

[ravennaortiz]

Raaaaave!!! Congrats on 500! You deserve it!!!!

May I have a cookie please?

Chibs+Werewolf+Smutty!!!!

Thank you Love!!!!!!

Of course you can! Sends a plate flying across the counter. Werewolf smut with Chibs?!?!?! Ummmmm hell yes! As always 18+

Wulver

You and Chibs were walking hand in hand through a meadow of wild flowers. The sounds of birds chirping and singing the only other sounds besides his voice as he told you stories of his homeland. The two you had come to Scotland for your honeymoon and you honestly wished to never leave. You felt enchanted with the beautiful country from the moment you set foot off the plane.

“So your werewolf just left fish on people windowsills?” you inquired making sure you had heard him correctly.

“Correct Lassie. The Wulver on Shetland was a very nice werewolf unlike your American ones that just want to feast” chuckled Chibs as he pulled you closer and kissed your forehead as you scrunched your nose.

“Not sure leaving fish on a windowsill is good. Especially in summer. Besides that I thought the Scottish thought wolves were the devil” you stated as he shook his head.

“Oh there’s devil in all of us” he teased as he smacked your ass making you yelp. “And if you don’t start running I’ll put the devil in ye” he added with a dark chuckle and wink. With  a laugh and smirk you were off running towards a little shed like building across the meadow.

“So pretty and perfect” murmured Chibs as he surveyed his work. You were naked, blindfolded, gagged ,bent over with your legs held open by a spreader and arms restrained behind your back. He had made good use of the leftover tack that was in the small stable you had tried to hide in.

You whined as you felt his fingers slip between your wet folds barely touching you. “So wet already love. I’ve barely done anything” chuckled Chibs before pushing three fingers in and curling them to hit that sweet spot.

You moaned and jerked as he thrusted his fingers in and out of you rapidly. Banging harshly into that spot that made your toes curl and you to see stars. Drool pooled down your face to the dirt floor below. Chibs hummed as he worked you over, bringing you to the edge quickly and pulling his fingers from you as a rush of fluid poured from you as your orgasm tore through you.

“Good little lamb” cooed Chibs as he sucked his fingers moaning at the taste. Glancing out the dusty window he saw the sun was starting to set. He sighed before spitting into his hand and patting your soaked core and stepping towards the door. “I’ll be back soon love. Stay like that for Daddy” he called before stepping out of the stable and letting the wooden door bang shut.

You had no idea how long he was gone for. All you knew was your body continued to drip and clench for him. Mini orgasms washing over you every now and then leaving you standing in a sticky puddle of your own release.

The sound of the door slamming opened and the heavy thud of footsteps startled you. The scent of forest filled the air as well as the sound of heavy breathing. Something sharp trailed along your spine at the same time that something wet dripped on your ass. You swallowed hard as you felt something soft brush along your cheek before the blindfold fell away. Turning slightly to see behind you your eyes widened. A wolf man like creature stood behind you, drool dripping from along the sharp teeth. Before you could react the creature was impaling you on its red thick cock. Stretching you almost painfully as it dug its claws into you.

Soon the only sounds were your moans, the squelch of your pussy as the creature fucked in and out of you rapidly and its own growls and grunts. You had lost track of how many times you had oragasmed, your body and mind an overstimulated mess. Your head hung down, eyes locked on the bulge in your belly as the creature continued to rut in and out of you until his pace stared to falter about the same time you noted a swelling just above his balls.

You started to thrash some but the ropes and such that Chibs had placed earlier kept you in place. The feel of the creatures knot stretching you even more as it started to bump into your opening. With a howl and a powerful thrust you felt the knot slip in right before strings of hot cum started to fill you as the creatures cock twitched violently in your soft walls. Waves of pleasure washed over you and had you feeling heavy and sleepy until your eyes closed.

“Good little lamb” soothed Chibs as he cuddled you in a pile of hay later. “Took me so good. Going to give me a pup or two” he continued as he patted your swollen belly full of his seed.

Go to event page

[wanderingxiao]

Whiskey, Leather, and Sex

Xiao x Reader *NSFW*

Warnings: unprotected sex, curse words, pet names, begging, slight mention of alcohol, reader is a female. MDNI! 18+

The scent of exquisite leather and bitter whiskey invaded your nostrils, the taste of alcohol on his tongue coming to intoxicate you to his touch. His strong hands ran up the sides of your waist, warmth spreading from the touch. Lustful goosebumps rose riddling your skin, your own flushed fingers gripping the sleek leather of his jacket. Sharp pointed teeth slowly etched into your bottom lip, tugging lightly before his tongue slid over your lips. 

“Xiao-“ The sound of his name rolling off your tongue so softly caused the man to shiver in anticipation as his internal arousal grew by the second. His palms rose, sliding over your bra before his fingertips firmly landed against the swell of your breasts. You couldn’t help but swoon in ecstasy at his touch. In a swift and fluid movement, he had your bra pushed up, letting your breasts bounce into his predatory grasp. With kneading hands, he squeezed against your breasts gently before sliding his fingers to ghost over the sensitive buds. “Ahh, Xiao, l-love you, love you so-“

“Hush.” He ordered sternly, yet there was a gentleness in his voice that made your heart accelerate and your cheeks flush with gorgeous shades of rose. Warmth cascaded down your chest to trace down your curves, defined fingers hooking on your pants and panties before the scent of whiskey invaded your nostrils again. “I’m sorry, forgive me, but I can’t fucking wait anymore. I… I need…” His lip caught between his teeth, his cheeks flushed lightly with his golden honeyed eyes looking deep into your eyes with blown out pupils dilated in lust. “I need to be inside you. To please you.”

 

“Xiao-“ Your lips connected once more into a passionate battle of hot tongues. Xiao swallowed your soft moans while his hands worked your lower half, pulling your pants and panties down without faltering the hypnotizing movement of his lips. The bed creaked under the shifting of Xiao’s weight, his hips coming to straddle you, pulling away and removing his leather jacket and undershirt. Scars littered his toned abdomen, a divine bird tattoo adorning his right arm, and piercings accenting his god-like face. He was truly crafted with the most exquisite materials to become this sexy.

Your hands traced his sides up to rub over his firm chest, enjoying the feel of his warmth under your fingertips. His rough hands came to grab at your shirt and bra, uncomfortably pulling them over your head to get you completely naked beneath his thin yet toned frame. His hands traced down your body until his fingertips dipped between your lovely thighs, golden eyes never leaving yours as he eagerly watched your expression shift once his fingertips made contact with your glistened folds. With a breathy sigh of bliss from your lips, Xiao’s fingers began to trace up and down your slit, biting the inside of his cheek at the feel of your arousal coating his slender digits.

“X-Xiao, please, hmm, please.” Your begging was too adorable for him to resist. With a clenched jaw, he sunk his fingers into your sopping insides, cock twitching in anticipation at the way your walls wrapped around his fingers, sucking his fingers in. Angling his fingers, he curled his slender digits to reach that blissful spot that always made your toes curl. The gorgeous moans that fell from your lips spurred him on, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt with increasing desperation, relishing in the wet noises your drooling sex made. “Shh, your doing so good, taking in my fingers so well. Do you want more, (Y/N)?”

“Mhm! Mhm, please, Xiao, I need mo-RE! Ugh!” God did your voice turn him on. Your voiced broke into choked moans and desperate whines as his thumb came to lightly ghost over your puffy clit. Your hips bucked into his hand, chasing the divine pleasure only Xiao could give you. You could hear his soft humming, thumb firmly finding your clit to rub precise and quick circles. The ecstasy was overstimulating, absolutely mind-numbingly amazing. His lips came to kiss along your jaw, the scent of whiskey once more intoxicating your senses. "Xiao! Xiao! I-It's-! Its too m-much...! Mmm!"

"So needy and desperate, you know I always take care of you, angel. Be patient." It felt like an entirety before he pulled his fingers out, leaving you aching and throbbing for more of his searing touch. His posted tongue slid seductively around the curves and dips of his knuckles and slender fingers, savoring the taste of your arousal on the tip of his tongue. "So good... Can't hold it in anymore." You could barely register his words, only perking up when you heard the sound of his belt buckle clacking open and the sound of the bold leather whirring through the denim loops.

His hands roughly grabbed your legs, pushing them open further to slot himself between them, pants pushed down just enough to spring his leaking cock free from the confines of fabric prison. A breathy sigh left his mouth, Adams apple bobbing lowly as he swallowed thickly at the cool air hitting his flushed erection. His veiny yet strong hands held onto the base of his throbbing arousal, a strong arm propping beside you as his eyes cast lower to focus his sights on the way his flushed tip rubbed up and down against your slit up to bump against your clit.

"Xiao, please baby, I need you." Your soft pleas and breathy whimpers for him made his throat rumble with a groan, applying slight pressure to your entrance before sinking it in, removing his hand to place beside you. His eyes remained focused on your barely joined sexes, slick already coating his cock as his tip ebbed in and out of your welcoming cunt. HE returned his attention to your antics-tied expression, smirking before he pushed himself past the tight squeeze of your sweet and fluttering walls. A relieved moan left both your mouths, finally feeling that full and engrossed feeling of lust being fulfilled. "M-Mmm, Xiao, so f-full... deep."

"It feels so good." His low groans were music to your ears. Xiao rolled his hips outwards before he pushed his pelvis flush with yours once more pushing himself as deep as he ocuold before setting a steady rhythm. The beds creaked beneath the shifting weight of your heated bodies. Moans flew from your mouth freely, no longer composed or caring how loud they were. Any whine, whimper, or lewd mewl was cherished by Xiao's keen ears littered with sexy piercings. "Fuck, its been so long... I, nah, I've missed you."

"M-Me too, Xiao, hah, me too...! Ngh..." His body loomed over yours, one of his hands grabbing your hip while the other propped himself on his elbow beside your head, moaning deeply into your panting mouth as your breath collided. You could smell his cologne, the whiskey he always drank, and the expensive leather of his jacket resting beside you. Everything was overwhelming. Everything was Xiao. His moans, his scent, the wet noise of your sexes meeting over and over again, and the firm snap of his flesh against yours once his pace increased.

A light sweat coated your body, your fingertips on fire as they dug into the toed muscles of his back, your legs hanging in the air on either side of him, toes beginning to curl as his tip smushed against your cervix without fail. A creamy ring began to form around the base of his girth, your arousal mixing, sticky smacks echoing as your arousal and his leaking tip overflowed your insides. With faltering movements, Xiao growled out a flurry of curses, and strained whispers of his emotions.

"Fuck, im so close, hah... I want to c-cum with you. Please, (Y/N). Cum with me, angel." His lips pressed against yours, sloppy and needy. His knees dug into the bed deeper, his rhythm disorganized and desperate, flushed and glistening tip hitting your sweet spot and the edge of your cervix with every erratic thrust. You could only cry and cling to him as if your life depended it. Your head curled into his shoulder, moaning and drooling over his collar bones, legs shaky as they wrapped around his body, encouraging him faster. "Xiao! Xiao! C-Cumming...! Mmph! O-Oh god...!"

"Cum for me. Cum all over me, damnit!" With a final deep thrust and animalistic growl, ribbons of his cum spurted inside your fluttering and spasming walls, milking him for all he's worth. You could feel the muscles along his back tense, shoulders arching to hunch over you at the euphoric climax of his release. You clung to him, your own orgasm washing over your body with loud cries and whines of sensitivity. He fucked his cum inside slowly, his open mouth leaving pants across your face as he rocked his hips through your releases. It left you both breathless, his body collapsing on top of you briefly. "S-Sorry... was I too rough?"

You smiled, and reached over to kiss his sweaty forward, combing his dark evergreen locks accent by dim turquoise out of his face to look into his honey-cambered eyes. "No, it was perfect. Just like you, Xiao." His lips curled ever so slightly, his strong arm wrapping around you before burying his face into the crook of your neck, enjoying your company once more within his arms. "Thank you... for being here." You sighed in bliss, snuggling him closer to you, basking in the warmth and comfort his presence brought you. "Of course, I love you, Xiao."

"Mhm... Yeah, I... I love you too, my sweet angel.

[hookedsworks]

HOOKEDHOBBIES KINKTOBER 2024

Day 2: Double Penetration // Voyeurism

THIS IS VERSION 2

masterpost

version 1

word count 1388

SLEEP TOKEN FANFICTION RELATED STRICTLY TO STAGE PERSONAS (as always)

y'all didn't think I'd keep you waiting all month for more damn Sleep Token smut, did ya?

II X III X READER, toys, unprotected (DO NOT DO THIS)

as always, don't like don't read

 The idea had come to you after one late night and a lot of partying. You set everything up. You had the only lamp in the room trained on you. You had two toys and a new bottle of lube. Now you were just waiting for them to get home. II and III had been out all day, shopping. They were on their way home now and you knew exactly how you wanted them to find you. You opened the lube, drizzling some on your fingertips to warm it up before putting it on your body. You wanted to shut their brains off, make them go stupid at the sight of you spread out on the bed. You rubbed at your clit for a second, feeling the slide of the lube and making sure there was enough for what you wanted to do. First, you picked up the jeweled plug. III had picked it out and shyly presented it to you several weeks ago, and you hadn’t had the chance to use it yet. The gem itself was a green so dark it was nearly black. Extra lube dripped down the tip of the plug, slow and thick like honey. You were beginning to drip, just thinking of them coming home and finding you all plugged up and on the edge of orgasm. You reached down and massaged extra lube around your ass. II was completely obsessed with it, fucking you there, being inside of you, so it felt a bit easier than it used to. You slowly pressed the tip of the plug into your ass after making sure there was a ton of lube. A silly, high pitched squeak escaped as you pushed the plug further in, spreading you out. You inhaled, relaxing as much as you could. Some slight resistance had you pulling the plug back out a bit, then pushing it in a bit harder. It hurt then, but only for a moment. The plug popped in, your asshole relaxed, you were full and you groaned loudly. 

You heard the front door then. You clenched, thinking about them coming into the bedroom. Quickly, you grabbed your other toy. A pretty rabbit vibrator. It hummed to life and you worked it inside your now completely soaking wet pussy. A dangerous combination of lube and your own fluids that would send III into a tailspin. Boots echoed down the hall. II and III were nearly in the bedroom door. III murmured to II, shushing him. 

“Don't shush me,” II retorted. 

“No, shut up, do you hear that?” then they both paused. They’d heard your vibe.

“Is she in here,” the doorway darkened. You threw your head back so you didn’t see them, a wave of shyness overtaking you. You weren’t completely used to being on display. The movement made the prongs of the rabbit jolt against your clit, sending sweet vibrations running up your body. You were so full, and the rabbit was vibrating at a frequency that was just a little too low to actually get you off. On purpose, of course. You wanted II and III to get you off.  

“Chairs,” III mused. You had set chairs up. You heard one creak. They were sitting down. You moaned again, wondering what they were thinking. 

“She's wearing a plug, brave little thing, did you put that in all by yourself?” One of them leaned forward and tapped the gem. You cried out then. And gasped. And nodded. 

“Words, bird,” 

“If you can't talk, we'll just watch. No touching,” II had already shifted into full Dom mode, and it was making your head go all fuzzy.

“Oh, but I want to touch,” 

“No,” his voice was sharper then. Commanding. 

“Alright, love. Whatever you say,” your clit had developed its own heartbeat. It was throbbing, begging for them to get closer. “But… look at her, She's so wet,” 

“Don't be a fucking brat,” II’s voice was low. III kind of groaned then. You whined, and risked looking up. They were both staring at you. II’s eyes were glued to your hand movements. III saw that you had moved your head and he was looking at your face. “Not like her. Dirty bird had to stuff both her holes while we were out,” You pushed the vibrator deeper then, and knocked the setting up one. 

“She liked that,” 

“Of course she did,” they were just…watching. You didn’t want to talk, but there wasn’t any other way to get them to touch you. You knew the only way to get them to touch, now that II had laid down his order. So, you allowed that switch in your mind to flip. You were going to turn the tables on them both. 

“Could have been you, you know. Both of you, buried inside of me,” your voice was low, throttled by desire. You rarely heard it go that deep and gravelly. “But since you've refused to touch me, I've now decided you can't,” you flipped the vibrator onto its almost highest setting. 

“You won't be saying that after you make yourself cum,” 

“You'll let us do anything we want once you get stupid,” their voices overlapped. They may have been right, but you weren’t about to act as though you weren’t in control. You rolled over then, bending over your thighs so they had a really clear view of your plug and vibrator. II moaned then. You knew you had him with the plug. You worked yourself harder. You were definitely, definitely going to cum. You pushed then, hoping to force yourself over the edge. You almost stopped, almost panicked, it felt too good. But then III smacked your ass, jolting the plug and sending you into a long, spiraling orgasm. 

“Mmm, there she is,” you groaned again, the bubbles in your blood making your toes curl. It felt so good. “Help me,” II asked III. Their hands moved you, and you were in between them with II in your face and III behind you. 

“Wait, no, you take her ass,” III’s voice was rumbling in your ear. “You have a thing for it,” 

“Dude, no, I'll barely last thirty seconds if I do that,” II threw his head back, sounding suspiciously like a brat. 

“That's the point, love,” III crooned at him. II grumbled but assented. Neither of them moved. They didn’t have to. They grabbed you and spun you in a 180. “Hi, hun,” III grinned down at your dazed, post orgasm face. II was working the plug out of your ass, so he could get his fingers in there. 

“Ready?” II was gritting his teeth, likely trying to steel himself against an orgasm. 

“Mm, lay her down over me. I want to feel her against me,” III kind of took control. Hands forced your thighs further apart and then you were laying on top of III while II and III both eased inside of you. You squealed. 

“Oh, way too much, too full,” You protested. They moaned in unison, a deep vibrating noise rattling your body. II was immediately chasing his orgasm. He could not help it, you were just so tight and hot and slick from the copious amounts of lube you had used. He loved being inside of you. But he was too cute, too quick with his orgasms when he was. You barely noticed him finishing, because III was conducting a perfect rhythm on your clit, sending you barreling toward another orgasm. III held your gaze, making you get shy. You buried your face in his neck, huffing against it and making him squirm. Then you remembered just how sensitive he was near his jawbone. You ran your tongue up his neck then, and bit down. 

“Shit,” he arched then, pushing deeper into you. You did it again, pressing soft kisses with teeth all along his neck. II eased out of you, making you clench hard. III moaned then. A broken, sweet long sound. He started throbbing inside of you. You moaned his name right into his ear. He gasped as he came. 

“Desperate things, look at you,” 

“As if you didn't cum in thirty seconds,” you mumbled, post orgasm bliss still lining your limbs and a shit eating grin overtaking your face. 

“I've never heard someone so clearly ask to be punished before,”

[clangenrising]

Month 15 - Newleaf

Scorchplume padded into camp in the early hours of dawn to find it entirely empty. She frowned, looking around at the swaying grass, and wondered where everyone had gone. Her stomach twisted nervously. Had they decided to move on without her? 

She poked her head into Goldenstar’s den and found it empty. She tried the healers’ den and found Sagetooth organizing herbs in the back of the den, humming to herself. Scorchplume stepped up beside her and watched the herbs as they sorted themselves into the various storage nooks, mesmerized by their fluid movements. 

“Where is everyone?” she asked. 

Sagetooth twitched her ear and said, “In the nursery. Didn’t you hear?” 

“No, I hadn’t,” said Scorch. 

“Well, they’ve been waiting for a while, you should hurry up.” 

“Oh,” Scorch frowned. How could she have forgotten? “Alright.” She stepped out of the healers’ den and directly into the nursery where Mystique sat curled around five squirming kittens. Beside her, sat Razor, who looked up as Scorchplume entered and smiled in an unnervingly kind manner. 

“There you are,” he purred. “Come on, we’ve been waiting for you.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said instinctively. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.” She stepped up close and settled beside him, tail curled tightly around her paws. 

“Oh, not at all,” he said, leaning against her shoulder and wrapping his tail around her back. “Aren’t they beautiful?” Scorch lifted a brow and looked down at the kittens, each one a ghostly white tabby. She had never cared much for kits and these ones weren’t exceptional in any way. 

She shrugged. “I guess? All kits just look weird to me.” 

“Don’t say that,” Razor smiled and, despite his completely innocent tone, something unpleasant spiked inside her. “You know, I was thinking, since Mystique doesn’t want to keep them, maybe you and I could raise them.” They were sitting in the corner of his garden and the wind rustled the leaves of the bushes like the sound of birds chattering an alarm. 

“Don’t you want them?” asked Razor. 

“Don’t you want them?” asked Mystique.

“Don’t you want them?” asked Goldenstar, sitting in Razor’s place.

Scorchplume snapped awake, paw pads clammy with sweat. Her fur clung suffocatingly to her sides, trapping the heat of her own fear against her body. Beside her, Goldenstar stirred, disturbed by her sudden movement and heavy breathing. 

“Hey,” she said, voice bleary with sleep, “what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Scorchplume lied, “Go back to sleep, you moron.” Goldenstar squinted in concern and shifted to lay on her side so she could face Scorchplume more fully. 

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me but you can if you want.” Scorch felt some emotion squirming within her throat. 

“I’m fine, really,” she laughed convincingly. “I just need to make waste. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Goldenstar said, sounding unsure but incredibly sleepy, and settled back into the nest with a yawn. Scorch didn’t know what to do with the fondness that image invoked in her so she left it behind like a lump on the ground as she slipped out of the den and into the night. 

Yarrowshade sat outside the elders’ den on guard duty. Fogpaw and Slatepaw were starting to fall asleep over their meal. Barleybee and Aldertail were just returning to camp with new fresh-kill. 

Scorch watched how the two hunters laughed easily, whispering a shared joke. Aldertail smiled and glanced away and her eyes fell on Scorch and the smile faded into a look of mild surprise. Scorch swallowed. Aldertail smiled again, this time with her brows pushing together into an uncertain furrow, and raised one paw in greeting. 

The gesture was not lost on Scorch. This must have been the first time Aldertail had held her gaze. She swallowed again, tightly, and turned away, skulking off into the grass to do her business. When she came back to camp, the only cat left outside was Yarrowshade. He looked up at her as she passed and offered her a casual smile. 

“Hey,” he asked, “how’s it going?” 

“Alright,” she shrugged, padding closer. “I’m guessing you’re bored out of your mind?” 

“So bored,” he groaned. “Guard duty is the worst. Mind sitting with me for a while?” 

Scorch hesitated. She could easily say no. It wasn’t like sitting on guard duty was any more appealing to her than it was to him. But she could still taste that strange emotion and as long as the taste was in her mouth, she wasn’t eager to go back to the den. 

“I suppose so,” she shrugged again and sat down next to him. She glanced over his shoulder into the darkness where Mystique lay, and said, “How has she been lately?”

“Sulky,” Yarrowshade whispered. “She doesn’t do much but eat and sleep these days.”

“I guess that’s pregnancy for you,” said Scorhcplume. 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Or she’s still hung up on Raz- uh.” He stopped himself halfway through the name. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” Scorch lashed her tail a bit. “I’m so sick of people walking on eggshells around me.” 

“I get that,” Yarrowshade sighed. “It was the same kind of thing when, uh,” he looked like he was about to censor himself again but her expression seemed to make him think twice, “when Nightfrost died.” Despite continuing, his voice was softer than it had been. Scorch pushed down the wave of jealousy that reverent tone resurfaced within her. She hated how clearly upset he still was and she hated herself for hating him for his grief. 

Yarrowshade, unaware of the conflict inside her, continued. “It’s like, I get that they’re trying to be nice but being handled with kitten paws is so annoying. Like, I’m a grown cat, not a little baby.” 

“Exactly,” Scorchplume found herself agreeing with him. “I hate how any sign of discomfort brings out a series of guilty looks and ‘are you okay’s. It’s demeaning!” 

“Yeah,” nodded Yarrowshade, smiling a little. “Why can’t they just let us bury our emotions deep, deep down where no one will ever find them?” They both laughed and then fell into a somber quiet, looking at their paws. Scorchplume took a slow breath and let it out with a huff as she glanced sideways at him. There was a longing between them, a desire for connection she was too broken to indulge. 

“I had a dream that Razor wanted to keep Mystique’s kittens,” she confessed in a half-hearted attempt to indulge it anyway. “Like, we would raise them together.” 

“Oh, gross,” Yarrowshade frowned. “That sucks, man, I’m sorry.” 

“It was pretty sucky,” she nodded. “I barely remember it now but he was just so… sweet. It was, like, really unsettling, you know? Like, I thought for a second, did I imagine everything?” She shuddered. As impossible as that was, the thought still terrified her. 

“You super didn’t,” Yarrowshade said. “I only met the guy once but he was the worst. The way he spoke to Nightfrost made me want to cut my own ears off.” 

Scorch let out a breath with the tone of a laugh. “Yeah. Good riddance.” She ruffled her fur, trying to shake off the feeling of his nose on the back of her neck. She wondered if she would ever be able to escape the lingering ghost of his touch and realized a second too late that tears were starting to fall down her cheeks. She glanced sharply at Yarrowshade, tensing for the unbearable sympathy she knew was coming. 

Yarrowshade’s mouth was drawn into a thin line as he watched her but he didn’t say anything. He just sighed and leaned over to rest his head on top of hers, looking out over the camp as if they were just enjoying the night air. Scorchplume sobbed and leaned into him, overwhelmed with gratitude and misery at the same time. Yarrowshade laid his tail over hers. 

The evening was cold against her cheeks, quiet, and still. Distantly, an owl called in the night. Scorchplume thanked whatever higher power there was, StarClan maybe, for the fact that she hadn’t managed to drive Yarrowshade away. What would she have done if they still weren’t speaking to each other? She closed her eyes and sniffled and focused on the sensation of her tears evaporating, contrasted by the warmth of his fur against her side. 

“Do…” she started, unsure where she was going. “Do you ever wonder what Goldie sees in you?” Yarrowshade shifted and swallowed. 

He was quiet for a long beat before he whispered back, “All the time.” 

“Me too,” she breathed. “I don’t deserve her.” 

“I know how you feel,” he said and she heard the truth of it in his voice. 

“I don’t deserve you,” she said, chest shaking with an almost sob. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, looking down at her. Under his gaze, she suddenly felt small and exposed and ugly to her core. 

“I was so cruel to you -” she said, unable to look at him, “I’m so cruel to everyone - but you don’t seem to mind! Why do you still care about me?” 

“I don’t know,” Yarrowshade swallowed, his voice sounding thick with something. “I just do. I don’t think we get to choose that kind of thing.” 

“Well you shouldn’t,” she huffed. “I’m just a leech. Sooner or later I’ll suck you dry and you’ll hate me.” 

“Yeah, right,” he rolled his eyes and she looked up to scowl at him. “Look, we’re all just trying to do what we think is right or best or whatever. I’ve made a lot of mistakes too. People still care about me even if I don’t know why. That’s just… what it’s like to be feline I guess.” 

Scorch sniffed pathetically and said, “Well, being feline sucks.” 

“That’s for sure,” he nodded. “But we are what we are. Might as well keep doing what makes us happy even if it doesn’t make any sense.” Scorch hummed reluctantly. She could see the logic in his point but it didn’t make it easier. 

“I guess,” she shrugged. Inside the elders’ den, Mystique shifted, bell jingling gently, and Scorch’s entire body tensed. She looked over her shoulder, worried she had been overheard, but Mystique’s eyes were closed and her swollen sides heaved evenly with her breath. Scorchplume sighed. 

“Why don’t you go back to bed,” said Yarrowshade. 

“Yeah…” Scorch groaned reluctantly. “I should.” 

“Maybe we can go hunting when I’m off duty,” he suggested with a casual shrug. 

“Yeah, maybe,” she stood and settled her fur. “We’ll see.” 

“Goodnight, Scorch,” he said with a little smile.

“Goodnight, dummy,” smiled Scorchplume. He grinned wider and she chuckled a little as she turned and headed back to Goldenstar’s den. As she settled back into the nest, Goldenstar stirred again and, upon finding Scorch beside her, hummed blissfully and wrapped her arms around Scorchplume’s neck. Scorch rolled her eyes and let herself be pulled into a cozy embrace. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on sleep, and with Goldenstar wrapped around her, she quickly dozed off again, this time into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

[venuscrashed]

Tanjiro x Demon!S/O pt 2

Tw: gore

Fun fact: I hate birds. Anyways, here’s your food children. pt 1

Tanjiro and the rest of the group had been traveling for days, tired and hungry. Everyone kept complaining and felt guilty. Each day that passed, more people fell victim to the demon.

Despite the nights spent together, no figured out Tanjiros secret. He had been going off while everyone is asleep and meeting you. He spent hours talking to you before falling asleep. You would then bring him back to the rest of the group and no one would find out.

This happened to be one of those nights. Tanjiro has said that he needed to go eat something, it was applaudable considering Inosuke took the majority of his food. He secretly ran out of the house and ran towards your scent. You had been following him, he could sense you, and he had suspected that the others could to. Although no one said anything, it felt obvious.

Once he arrived he saw you standing there in the middle of a patch of flowers. The moon was showering you in safe light, your features were enhanced and your beauty was exaggerated. You looked peaceful. Tanjiro thought you looked like an angel, the irony.

You turned around and looked at him. It felt like he was falling in love all over again. Butterfly’s filled his stomach, a smile painted on to his face. He quickly ran and gave you a hug, followed by a kiss.

You laughed, “I missed you to.”

“I wanted to go up to you but I couldn’t let the others know.”

You hummed in response, Tanjiro could tell it was from disappointment. You didn’t want to hide your guy’s relationships. Sensing it , Tanjiro threw you guys to the ground with you on top.

Laughter filled the air while you two rolled around in the flowers. The wind flowed through the air. Tanjiro wanted this to last forever.

You two stopped. He was on top of you know, he looked down at you and kissed you. He continued over and over again, lowering himself to your collarbone. You slightly lifted your head and his eyelashes tickled you.

He kept on going, it felt surreal. You two fell into the moment, forgetting everything, not sending the demon that approached.

The demon stood high on the trees above you both. He looked down on you both, his eyes illuminating the sky. You noticed him first as his presence grew. He jumped down and you pushed both you and Tanjiro out of the way in time.

Tanjiro rolled over and jumped up grabbing his sword and getting into a fighter stance. You simply stood there, waiting to kill the demon and going back to your moment. The demon stood up slowly, his spine exposed outside of his skin while the front tires sagged. The organs were about to fall out, his jaw dislocated. You could now see that his eyes were in his mouth. The top of his head was cut off, you assumed he was treated for brain surgery in his life.

The demon reached out his claw and ran towards you and Tanjiro. Tanjiro jumped out of the way and onto a tree. The demon kept running towards you. Once he got close enough, you punched him and he flew back against the tree behind him. A sick, dull colored fluid swished around his head and some spilled out.

Tanjiro ran around, he pulled his sword up above his head and aimed for the demons neck. Waves followed the path of the sword, the sword glowed. It connected with the demons neck but shattered upon arrival. Tanjiro flew back with the handle of the sword in his hands, he was getting killed for breaking it.

You stepped in front of him and put your hands together above your head, the sounds of crows screaming could be heard. The demon, unfazed from the sword, moved up and his eyes fell back into his body. Your hands moved down while another pair grew and rose behind your back. The demons eyes could be send through the skin, glowing and looking straight at you. Your hands aimed at the demon. The demons head fluid floated above his head and went at you.

Birds came crashing down at him and his fluid towards you. The birds flew through the fluid while being burned and disintegrated in the air. They flew and came in contact with the demon, they beaks penetrated his skin, ripping his flesh out. His magic fell onto the ground and he screamed in agony. His and the birds scream was all that could be heard. His blood and brain fluid was painted on to the flowers. His organs fell on to the floor while the birds feasted on it. His spine was shaking, you turned around and walked towards Tanjiro.

He had never seen your demon magic, to say he was mortified was an understatement. Tears started to form in his eyes. You grabbed his face and turned it towards yours. “Let’s go.” He slowly shook his head.

You carried him in your arms and jumped high into the air. The houses light was the only one close. You landed right outside the door. You walked in, everyone was asleep. You carefully placed Tanjiro on to his bed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’ve seems worse.”

You have him one last kiss and walked out of the house. Once you were out a crow came flying towards you. It landed on to your hands and placed something into your hands.

It was the eyes.

[fallenclan]

Paper Wasps (your pookie dice anon)

A hive buzzes.

Thick with paper pulp;

It grows larger with each breath.

It heaves and beats

Like a heart.

Each buzz is a single idea

That has come together to create a home.

The bowels of the hive are filled with larvae.

Eyes turn upon them as they buzz from the heart.

Fear.

Death covers the outside.

Birds fly low.

Their beaks are death incarnate.

They swoop–

-----

Thick, labored breaths.

A soft buzz from above.

She turns her gaze to the sky 

And sees her namesake.

Adrenaline pumps through her head.

She raises a paw.

Slowly.

Slowly…

Slowly!–

-----

Dogs.

Ripping.

Tearing and Bleeding.

Their jaws are coated in a slimy and thick sanguine.

She faces death.

It has a sweet aftertaste.

Her body does not feel her own.

She turns–

-----

The sharp sting of a wasp in her paw.

She yelps back, recoiling.

“Waspkit!” Moosekit yelps.

It hurts.

Moosekit frets.

Waspkit looks and wonders if she could sting herself again.

Maybe it would–

-----

–save her soul.

Her lungs are filled with fluid.

She never knew how to cope with death

But she wants to.

Everything feels fuzzy.

She remembers a wasp’s nest in the forest.

She remembers pain in her paw.

She remembers–

-----

Shrewkit grins happily.

The hive pulses.

It beats and hums and sings.

Moosekit laughs, happy before–

Before–

-----

Tears fill her eyes.

Her hive is broken and dead.

The paper walls have torn.

The heartbeat of life stills.

She faces death.

It tastes of pure failure.

A bird’s beak closes around her throat.

It rips and rends.

She was always one to not question,

So she does not question her death.

She tried to run from death

And her legs could not handle

The weight of that fear.

-----

She watches Moosefall.

A wasp buzzes nearby her sister’s ear.

Waspflight swats it away for her.

Honey drips from an apprentice’s eyes.

Waspflight weeps.

She is witnessed

But not by the one who she needs to see the most

So close, and yet–

-----

“–too far, Waspkit!” Shrewkit squeaks weakly.

Waspkit lets up, letting her sibling go.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine, I know it was a– a- a big- bad! It was not on…”

Pause.

“...purpose?”

“Yes! Thank you!”

Waspkit grins. 

A bird circles above, eyes silent.

A reminder of the pain that claims them all.

-----

A hive buzzes,

But soon, it will cease.

Its heartbeat slowed and lungs unmoving.

Waspflight is dead.

It has the taste of tears unshed.

��...

[ signed 🎲! This has been in my google docs for like a week! shoutout to lollipop anon for helping me characterize this characterless-character. I super appreciate it!]

(beetle note: HELL YES!!! i love when people give more character to the ones i didnt have time to explore,,, this goes hard)

[hotdfic]

A Flight Between Kin

Blue is Aegon! Purple is Aemond! Pink is Y/N!

The crisp air of the morning blew gently across Kings Landing as Y/N stood in the courtyard, the sound of dragon wings fluttering through the skies above. Today was a special day. For the first time in a while, she and her brothers were free of duties and obligations. Aegon and Aemond had finally agreed to take her on a long-awaited ride across the skies of Westeros—just the three of them, with their dragons.

Stormfyre, her sapphire-scaled dragon, stood nearby, his eyes glinting in the sunlight. The dragon was strong and loyal, his vibrant scales shimmering as though kissed by lightning itself. Y/N reached out, stroking his warm neck, feeling the soft hum of his contentment as he lowered his head to nuzzle her hand.

"Ready, little sister?" Aegon’s voice called from across the courtyard. He was already mounted atop Sunfyre, whose golden wings stretched wide, glittering as brightly as normal. Aegon’s smirk was as playful as always, a clear sign that he was eager for a race, as sunfyre let out a playful clicking sound.

"Of course she’s ready," Aemond added, approaching with his usual stoic demeanor, already seated on the massive Vhagar. His single eye glanced at Y/N, softened by the affection he reserved only for his family. "Just make sure you keep up, Aegon."

Y/N chuckled, glancing between her older brothers. "You two always make everything a competition," she said, her voice light as she climbed up onto Stormfyre’s back. She patted his neck, feeling his anticipation beneath her fingertips.

"Because it is a competition," Aegon teased, his grin growing wider. "Now, shall we?"

Without waiting for a response, Sunfyre surged into the air with a powerful beat of his wings. Aegon’s laughter echoed through the sky as he climbed higher and higher, daring his siblings to follow.

Aemond shook his head, sighing, but there was a faint smile on his lips. "Shall we show him how it’s done, Y/N?"

"Sōvēs, Stormfyre!" she replied, giving Stormfyre a gentle nudge with her heels. With a powerful roar, Stormfyre launched himself into the air, his sapphire wings spreading wide as the two joined Aegon and Sunfyre in the skies. Vhagar, slower but far more experienced, followed behind with Aemond guiding her.

The wind whipped through Y/N’s hair, the familiar exhilaration of flight filling her chest as Stormfyre soared beside Sunfyre. The sun reflected off the shimmering blue and gold of their dragons, creating a dazzling display in the clear skies above Kings Landing. Below, the sea sparkled like a sheet of glass, the islands dotted like tiny gems in the distance.

Aegon twisted in his saddle, his voice full of mischief. "Come on, Y/N! I thought you wanted to fly, not stroll!"

Y/N rolled her eyes, urging Stormfyre faster, catching up with Aegon effortlessly. "You forget, brother, Stormfyre’s faster than Sunfyre on his best day."

The wind rushed past them as Stormfyre performed a tight barrel roll, spinning effortlessly before leveling out for a heartbeat—only to dive again, executing a series of rapid spins that made Y/N’s stomach flip with excitement. He darted through the air, agile as a humming bird, banking hard to the left before doing another perfect loop, his sapphire scales reflecting the light like a streak of blue fire.

Aegon chuckled, clearly amused. "We’ll see about that."

Without hesitation, Sunfyre tilted his wings and began to twirl through the clouds, his golden form spinning with breathtaking precision. He dipped into a rapid barrel roll similar to Y/N's, spiraling downward with a flick of his tail, his scales shimmering like a comet as he looped through the air.

Aegon whooped and cheered in delight as Sunfyre spun in tight, perfect circles, moving with the fluid grace of a seasoned dancer. With a swift turn, the dragon dove sharply, only to pull up at the last moment, executing a dramatic corkscrew spiral. The wind whipped around them as Sunfyre rose again, twisting through the sky in a dazzling display of aerial mastery.

But just as Y/N and Aegon’s playful banter began again, Aemond’s voice rang out from above, calm and commanding. "Both of you, stay close and stop bantering." He and Vhagar flew higher more so the ancient dragon could glide above them like a watchful guardian.

Y/N looked up at Aemond and smiled. Though he didn’t always join in their games, Aemond’s protective nature never wavered. He was always looking out for her, even when they were in the skies.

For a while, the three of them flew in peaceful harmony, their dragons weaving in and out of clouds, leaving their troubles far below. The world felt smaller from up here, like nothing could touch them. Aegon’s laughter rang out as Sunfyre playfully swooped through the air, while Aemond kept a steady hand on Vhagar’s reins, always the calm presence amidst the chaos.

After some time, they hovered above a small island, the wind cool and gentle as it swept across their faces. Aegon flew beside Y/N, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief. "You know, little sister, we should do this more often. Just the three of us."

Y/N smiled warmly, her heart swelling with affection for her brothers. "I agree. It’s perfect up here. Just us, the sky, and our dragons."

Aemond, flying above, tilted his head slightly to look down at them. "We’ll have to do this more often then." he said, his voice softer than usual.

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest. No matter how different her brothers were—Aegon’s playful recklessness, Aemond’s quiet intensity—they were family, bound by blood and fire. And in moments like this, she knew there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

Stormfyre let out a contented rumble beneath her, his powerful wings carrying them back toward the castle as the sun began to set, casting the sky in hues of pink and gold. They flew in silence for a while, basking in the beauty of the world below, the sound of their dragons’ wings the only noise in the air.

As they descended back to Kings Landing, Aegon was the first to dismount, offering Y/N a dramatic bow as she slid off Stormfyre. "Well flown, sister. I’ll admit, you’ve gotten much better."

Y/N chuckled, swatting his arm playfully. "I had good teachers."

Aemond landed with Vhagar and dismounted quietly, his eye lingering on Y/N for a moment. "You did well today," he said, his voice low but sincere.

She smiled up at him. "Thanks, Aemond. You always make me feel safe."

Aemond’s expression softened, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, a rare gesture of affection. "That’s my job."

As the three of them walked back toward the castle, side by side, Y/N felt a deep sense of peace settle over her. In the skies, among their dragons, they were free—free from expectations, free from rules, free from life.

[aquilathefighter]

smapril day 8

Day 08  dominance | "I already know." Light D/S-ish stuff below! smapril prompts by the incomparable @staroftheendless

They’re lying in bed, still naked from the night before, Dream resting his head on Hob’s chest and playing with the dark curls there.

“Were you surprised?” he asks, the first words uttered that morning.

“By what?” Hob asks into his hair.

“By my preference for dominance…”

“Not at all, love, you are a king after all.”

“Many perceive my physical form as something frail. A weak, pretty thing to be taken apart and fucked.” Hob shivers as Dream spits the crude word out. “But I am beyond what a mortal mind can conceive of.”

Hob slips his arm under Dream’s waist and heaves him so he is laying fully on top of himself. While Dream appears bird-boned, the weight of him causes Hob’s body to sink further into the mattress.

“I already know.” He shifts Dream’s hips so his hardness presses into Dream’s own cock. “Now, are you going to take me apart again? Because I’m gagging for you, Dream.”

Pushing himself up to straddle Hob, Dream looks him in the eye devilishly.

“I suppose it would not be a hardship. Roll over, little one, and let me see that you are still wet and wanting for me.”

Hob moans, turning as soon as Dream rolls off of him. He props himself up on his knees, face smashed into the pillows. His hole twitches, remnants of what Dream left inside him the previous night trickling out. Dream runs a finger over it, scooping up his cum and pushing it back inside Hob’s ass.

“Good boy,” Dream rumbles, one finger teasing as Hob rocks into the penetration. He backs out and Hob cries out, asshole clenching around nothing. Dream runs a gentle hand across his back.

“Peace, pet. I am only ensuring you will be able to take my cock without pain. Unless you want that this morning?”

Hob shakes his head, still buried in the pillows.

“Very well. Then you may not whine or speak while I prepare you,” he says, returning with two slicked fingers, pushing into Hob’s walls and watching as he slips further into the relaxed state that Dream gets high off of.

Dream removes his fingers and watches as Hob catches himself before he manages to make any noise, his spine stiffening in sudden panic.

Dream lines himself up, watching Hob squirm against the blunt head of his cock, tiny squeaks escaping his mouth.

As he plunges inside, he says, “You may speak. Let the neighbors hear how much you love my cock, how much you love being brought low under my hand.”

Hob lets out a howl, arching his back to meet Dream’s thrusts.

“Yes! Oh—Dream, my Dream, yes, harder—” he babbles, Dream preening at the recognition of how good he can make his sub feel. He grips Hob’s hips and picks up the pace, leftover cum gliding against his cock to ease the way, squelching as Hob’s tight hole squeezes Dream’s cock.

“Hob!” Dream moans. “I’m going to—”

Hob finally lifts his head, turning to meet Dream’s eye as he groans.

“Yes, please, inside me—oh, god—I’m yours, fill me now!” he moans, meeting Dream’s thrusts in earnest.

Dream plunges his cock as deep as it can go, his cock pulsing and spurting hot seed, adding to the wetness inside Hob. It’s enough to pull Hob over the edge too, groaning and creating a puddle underneath him. As Dream coaxes him through the aftershocks, he pulls out and rolls him over on his side. His dick twitches at the filthy sight that follows, cum dripping out of Hob’s hole and onto his thighs.

He lies down beside his lover, pulling him to nestle against his own chest.

Dream plants a kiss to the crown of Hob’s head. “You take me so well beloved. Let me take care of you now.” With a wave of his hand, they both are clean of any sweat and bodily fluids, save for Hob’s dripping hole, which he presses a plug into. Hob shivers and hums, always happy to stay full of his lover. Dream holds him as Hob drifts in and out of consciousness.

Later, he rolls over to face Dream and asks, “Do you think we could try something… more intense some day?”

Dream has to bite his own fist not to cum on the spot.                                                                                                                                     

[blossombriefs]

Legendary | Chapter Eleven

The next day was our first day of training. We dressed in white T-shirts and baggy grey sweatpants to be comfortable. I packed us a duffle bag of towels, water bottles and other essentials for our day training. We set out across the grassy fields finding a nice spot to set our things down, the sun casting a warm glow over the fields.

The grass beneath our feet was soft and lush, contrasting Namek's familiar rocky terrain. I took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp air as I scanned our surroundings. The training grounds were vast, with ample space for us to practise all alone. The sky was laced with chirping birds and the leaves swayed from nearby trees in the breeze. I placed my bag on the grass, pulling out some towels and our water bottles.

"Alright, Broly, let's start with some warm-up exercises," I mumbled as I set everything down on the ground. "We'll start with a quick spar, let me see what I'm working with."

Broly stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders, a small grin spreading across his face. "Sure thing, Flora," he said, his voice filled with anticipation. Despite his immense power, Broly had a gentle soul, and training sessions with him were as much about fun as honing his abilities.

We squared off, standing a few feet apart. I could feel the energy radiating from him, a faint hum in the air. "Remember," I said, taking my stance, "this is just a warm-up. No going all out."

He nodded, though I could see the excitement in his eyes. We began with simple movements, testing each other's reflexes. I threw a light jab, which he effortlessly dodged, countering with a swift but controlled kick. I blocked it, feeling the raw power behind even his restrained movements.

As we continued our spar, I noticed how fluid his movements were, despite his massive size. He moved with the grace of a seasoned fighter, yet there was a raw, untamed quality to his techniques. It was clear he had incredible potential, but his training had been sporadic and fueled by survival rather than discipline.

"Good, Broly," I encouraged, ducking under a punch and delivering a quick jab to his side. "Keep your focus."

He nodded, his eyes locking onto mine with a determined gaze. As the spar intensified, I could feel him holding back, not wanting to unleash his full strength. It was a testament to his control and his trust in me.

We broke apart, both of us slightly winded but energized. "You're doing great," I said, tossing him a water bottle. "But remember, it's not just about strength. It's about control and precision."

He nodded, taking a swig of water. "I know. It's just... sometimes it's hard to keep it all in check."

I smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That's why we're here, Broly. To help you find that balance."

We took a short break, rehydrating and catching our breath. The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the fields. The serenity of the place was almost surreal, a stark contrast to the chaos and violence we had both known.

"Let's move on to some power control exercises," I suggested, leading him to a nearby patch of open ground. "I want you to focus on channelling your energy without letting it get out of hand."

He nodded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. I watched as his aura began to flicker around him, the green energy shimmering in the sunlight. He clenched his fists, concentrating on maintaining the flow of power.

"Good, Broly. Steady and controlled," I coached, stepping back to give him space. "Feel the energy, but don't let it overwhelm you."

He opened his eyes, the green aura intensifying for a moment before settling into a steady glow. He looked at me, a mixture of pride and relief on his face. "I did it."

I smiled, nodding in approval. "You did. Now, let's see if we can maintain that control during a more intense exercise."

We spent the next few hours going through various drills, pushing Broly to harness his power while maintaining his focus. There were moments when his energy spiked, threatening to burst free, but he managed to reel it back in each time.

By the end of the session, we were both exhausted but satisfied with the progress we had made. As we gathered our things, I couldn't help but feel a sense of optimism. Broly had incredible potential, and with the right guidance, he could become a force for good. We lay back in the grass, I wiped the sweat from my face with one of the towels I had brought along and took a quick drink from my water bottle. I took a moment to catch my breath for a moment before we got ready to leave.

Our walk back to the village was tranquil, taking the same route we walked to get here. Broly carried both of our bags, insisting that he didn't mind. The more I thought about our training session, the true extent of his power seemed crazy to me. There was so much of it.

"Flora?" Broly said softly as we were nearing the house.

"Yeah?" I responded.

"Frieza... he used you as a weapon didn't he?" He asked. I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and a nod. He continued, "I just wanted to say that if it helped for me to be in that position... I wouldn't mind if it helped the Namekian people..."

"No," I replied sharply. "You're not a weapon Broly. We'll fight together."

I looked up at him reassuringly, passing a gentle smile to him. "You're more than your power. You're so gentle and kind... maybe in return for helping you train you could teach me that too..."

Next Chapter Chapter List

[bookofbolden]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Generic Store PARTIES: Syd ( @felinefrenzies ) & Eleanor SUMMARY: While grocery shopping Eleanor runs into Syd who is in the middle of an intense battle with the beast within. WARNINGS: None!

Groceries. It was a necessary evil that Eleanor had had the pleasure of forgetting about while she’d lived with her sister. She simply wrote on the chalkboard door of the pantry what she needed from the store and it appeared almost like magic. Now she had to get all of her things together, including her long list, and trudge to the store herself. Not that she could really complain, she didn’t want to be in the apartment for too much longer than absolutely necessary, it had been left a mess and somehow seemed even more so after her return.

Almost immediately after she’d walked into The Generic Store the cashier gave off some mildly irritated vibes but Eleanor could understand, she wouldn’t have wanted to be at work and miss out on whatever else was going on outside of the store, either. She smiled at the worker and continued on her way to the groceries as she took out her list. Only a few other people roamed the aisles and they were all either extremely calm or just a little bit anxious as they made sure they had gotten everything they’d come for. Because of the lack of strong emotions within the vicinity, the feeling of dread and distress was as noticeable to her as if the person had announced that they were feeling it.

Eleanor looked over her shoulder and offered a kind smile in hopes of calming the stranger. “Hello, I’m not in your way, am I?”

Syd leaned against the cereal aisle, gaze fixated on the stupid off brand Tony the Tiger. Their vision blurred ever so slightly, off brand Tony dancing in the corner of their eye as they looked away, as if mocking them. From one cat to another, it sang. Syd clenched their teeth and tried to focus on the ring of their heart in their ears, of the way it sounded, a rhythmic beat to the discussion and footfalls of shoppers in and around the store. They’d been through this time and time again, and they could do it again. There were faces they knew here, and they couldn’t risk the chance of shedding their skin, of hurting the very woman who had handed them their diploma several years back. 

They’d been so focused on controlling the shift, from keeping it at bay that they hadn’t noticed somebody was next to them now. Concern echoed in their voice and Syd tore their eyes away from a neighboring box of low sugar off brand Toucan– what the fuck was that bird’s name?  Their company stood only a few feet away, and the warnings that fell at the back of Syd’s throat were swallowed by the anxiety of possibly creating shreds out of the person in front of them. “No,” Syd stammered, tightening their grip on the shelf. The jaguar hummed, circling them as if prey. “Sorry, I’m–” They let out a soft laugh that came out as a hiss, unfurling into something of a growl. Quickly, Syd covered it up by coughing into their arm. “I think I left the house before the flu left me.” They gave a half-assed smile, tongue moving against teeth, against cheek– anything to keep them rooted. “Did you need…” They looked at the aisle they were in again, then to off brand Tony. “This?” 

Eleanor could tell that something awful brewed just below the surface but she didn’t want to call too much attention to it. Some people preferred to pretend that nothing was going on even if they were going through some of the worst moments of their life. “No need to apologize, I’m sorry that you’re not feeling well. I can bet that it must be miserable being sick in this weather. Have you been getting enough fluids? Have you tried chicken noodle soup? Whenever I haven’t been feeling my best I typically give it about a week and then if things aren’t getting better I go to the doctor.” She knew that she’d started to ramble so she stopped herself. “Not that you asked for any of my advice. I’m sorry, you're an adult, you know how to take care of yourself.” She blushed, but she had genuinely just wanted to offer some kind of help because it was obvious between the stuttering and the swirling dark cloud of emotions within them that things weren’t going well.

Although Eleanor hadn’t been in the market for the off brand cereal she nodded and took it anyhow, adding it to the small selection of items in her basket. “Sure, I appreciate it.” She looked them over one more time then turned as though she were going to leave. She’d gotten halfway down the aisle before she turned and went back, her heart unable to allow her to simply walk away. “I’m sorry, and please tell me to buzz off if I’m prying, but you don’t seem well. Is there anything I can do, someone I can call for you? You shouldn't be out if you’re feeling this terribly - what are you shopping for? I can grab it for you so you don’t have to be on your feet for too long.”

Most people would move on after being advised that the person they were speaking to had the flu, but the girl ahead of her stayed put, concern pulling over her features. Frustration flickered brightly at the center of Syd’s chest. They wanted to tell her to leave, that they didn’t need the suggestions. Because that much was true, they didn’t. They could take care of themself. The sound of the front door opening, a bell ringing– the till, the count of change, the exchanging of thank you’s, it hit Syd from every side. It was hard to ignore. On top of it all, the smiling brunette had the audacity to be kind. The longer Syd stood there, the more their irritation grew, and they felt horrible for directing it at somebody who was only trying to help. “Chicken noodle soup, no. Pozole.” Through clenched teeth, Syd continued, “you should try it sometime.” Maybe the brunette already had. It was easier to focus on the comfort of a warm meal than it was to focus on the tiles beneath their feet and how it might feel to press their face against them. They’d be cool to the touch, they were sure, and maybe it’d soothe the sweat that had begun to break out at the back of their neck. 

“S’okay,” Syd coughed out again, attempting to hide a pained whimper as the jaguar tugged at the corners of their mind, as if luring them inward in order to take total and complete control. “Appreciate it all the same, actually.” It was harder to speak now than it had been previously, and that wasn’t good. They knew that. Syd moved to the side slightly as the brunette reached for the box of cereal. A blur of colors danced in the corner of their vision as they kept their eyes on the shelf’s price display. They traced each number carefully, one breath in, one breath out. She was retreating, and Syd felt some minor relief that maybe she would leave the store before the jaguar split the seams of the individual standing there. Syd hoped so. Nobody that kind should be mauled in a grocery outlet. The footfalls stopped, and Syd let out a huff, ready to explain that yes, she was sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, all for the sake of ridding a victim from a soon to be crime scene. But instead, Syd refocused, staring at the toucan on the stupid cereal box. They memorized the colors, thought of them on human skin, the thrum of the tattoo gun in their hand. Grounding techniques, that was what their father had called them. Important, to beings like them. “Call? No, nobody to call.” Their parents were in Arizona, and it wasn’t like Meredith needed to be bothered, they were only just now reconnecting. “You’re really fucking nice and all, but look, I don’t– I would have asked for your help if I needed it, alright?” Frustration plucked at Syd’s vocal cords and their voice broke slightly at the end of the sentence. Agitation burrowed itself, dragging away the kindness that Syd had been born with. “Fuck, sorry, I just– it’s so fucking loud in here, right? So fucking loud.” 

There was a flash of frustration and Eleanor took another miniscule step back. Had she said something unkind, out of line? She didn’t think so, but not everyone received unsolicited advice well, perhaps that had been the other’s breaking point. She was sure that if she’d felt awful out in public and someone came along yapping about soup and doctors then surely she too would become irritated. But this was different, it had to be, it couldn’t have all been aimed at herself - the irritation, fear, anger… it was all too much to have occurred during their brief exchange of words. But still, they offered up another bit of conversation and she took it because she didn’t know what else to do in such a situation. “I have! It’s very good, one of my best friends makes it.” But her words sounded forced, scared. What could have caused such a storm within them? It wasn’t her place to get to the bottom of it, she needed to learn where to draw the line, but she also wouldn’t have forgiven herself if she were to just walk away and leave them in such a state.

Their response was exactly what Eleanor had expected so it didn’t hurt her feelings when they lashed out, she simply nodded and smiled sadly. Hadn’t she always done the same thing? Lashing out was a whole hell of a lot easier than trying to explain whatever was going on inside of her mind so no, she hadn’t been offended. But it did still worry her. “No need to apologize, I was just offering it. Whenever I see someone who might need a helping hand I offer, but you by no means have to accept it, I understand that you’re wanting your space.” She let out a breath and brought her palm to her forehead as though checking for a fever. The intensity of their emotions had started to create a headache. “Yes, it’s very loud in here, I agree. I hope that I’m not coming down with something myself.” Although the volume she was complaining about happened to be on a different wavelength, one she was sure they were unable to hear. “I’m Eleanor. I don’t think I’m supposed to give out my name freely, but I want you to know who I am just in case… you ever need anything? Whatever’s going on, flu or otherwise, it’ll all pass. I’m sure your family and friends would be more than willing to listen to anything you have to say about what might be going on, and if not then… I don’t know. I’m here, too. I’m no therapist, I don’t claim to be one, but I’m really good at listening despite my habit of always talking.” She didn’t want to leave, as much as being around them pained her, so she went further down the aisle as she had before but stopped to pretend to be very interested in the loaves of bread on the shelf.

It was at inopportune times like these that the jaguar had wanted to come out, desire to be freed from its vessel trumping any reason that Syd tried to make. The last thing they wanted to do was hurt anybody, and they knew that leaving sooner rather than later was probably their best bet at doing little to no harm. But it was hard to move– to put one foot in front of the other. They could barely focus on each and every breath that filled their lungs, a labor in its own right– defying the very spirit that lived within them, coaxing Syd to release any and all control. Their grip on the shelf tightened, and they leaned into it gently, careful to not put their full weight as they didn’t want tons of cereal boxes to come crashing down. It didn’t seem like the brunette was hurt by her words, which was a surprise in itself. Instead, it looked like she understood the aggression, tucking it away for further investigation. 

Syd tried their best to focus on her words, to allow them to carry them further from the tightening in their chest. It felt odd, being talked down so gently after misplaced cruelty stained their words. “No, it’s–” Another sharp inhale, another clench of the jaw. “Ah, fuck. Hope not. Sure it’s going around town, though.” Syd wasn’t actually sick with anything, so maybe the girl– now named Eleanor, was using empathy as a means to distract them. “Don’t worry, not gonna use your name against you. I don’t even use Facebook. Plus, I’m sure there’s loads of other Eleanors in town.” It hadn’t occurred to them that there was a deeper seated meaning to her words, but it was hard to focus on that. “You talk like a therapist. Not that it’s a bad thing.” The words came out raspy, a hollowed out version of Syd’s typical cadence. “Never been to a shrink, though.” Never had to, before now. Were there such things as balam shrinks? Would they be able to tap into the jaguar and coax a level of understanding? Maybe they should look into that. “My name is Syd.” If they focused on the conversation, then maybe it would pass. They could feel the feverish warmth at the back of their neck beginning to subside, a sign that perhaps the jaguar was relenting. “You do this a lot?” Syd asked after a moment of listening to the other noises from within the store, “talk people down who have the flu in the cereal aisle, I mean.” 

The comment about Facebook confused Eleanor for a moment and she wondered if they even understood what she had meant by the layered comment. Perhaps they really were sick and it wasn’t anything supernatural… that would be strange simply because it wasn’t strange. Everything that happened in this town had to be weird, right? It was the law or something. It just wasn’t feasible to Eleanor that this person was plainly sick with the common flu. She shrugged one shoulder and attempted a chuckle. “I’ve been to plenty of therapists, I know their lingo. Going to one isn’t a bad thing, it’s not admitting weakness or anything like that, sometimes you just need someone to talk to you, someone who doesn’t know a thing about you and can give everything a glance from the outside - it’s really helped me.” How they had moved from the subject of possibly catching a virus to her trying to coax them into therapy she wasn’t sure, but as long as they spoke with her the more she would continue as well. It seemed to work as a distraction, keeping them from completely toppling over.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Syd. Lovely name.” Eleanor wondered if it was short for Sydney but then decided that it was none of her business. Syd, as they had introduced themself, was all she needed to know. At their question she truly laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I'm laughing because… no, no I don’t talk people down from the flu in the cereal aisle often. But I give myself damn good pep talks in the bathroom mirror so I’m using all of my skills I’ve learned by doing that - is it working? Because if it is then I need to give myself a raise.” There was a gradual shift in the atmosphere that indicated that perhaps they had started to feel a tad bit better and Eleanor took that as a sign that she was doing well. It felt good to be the one to help someone else for a change. “What brought you out to the store with the flu, Syd? All of the DoorDashers busy?”

Syd snorted. When leaving the campsite today, they hadn’t anticipated a minor panic attack in the cereal aisle of a store they had gone to since they were a child. Syd was positive that if their parents had service, Glenn, the manager of the place, would be calling them erratically asking what had gotten into Syd. Everyone knew each other here, it seemed. Except Syd knew that Wicked’s Rest wasn’t really that small of a place– it just so happened that they were a creature of habit, frequenting the same places that their parents had. 

“You should be a marketer for them.” Syd took another deep breath, gaze flashing up to the ceiling to seek out the patterns of the tiles above their heads. “Maybe I’ll look into it one day.” If balam therapists were a thing, they’d jump at the chance, no questions asked. They didn’t think they’d get that lucky. Maybe they’d have to find somebody else– a zombie therapist who understood what it was like to no longer be in control. There was a degree of separation, but Syd felt as though that was their best bet. “I’m glad it’s helped you, though. You seem to know what you’re talking about.” Eleanor’s voice was helping keep Syd’s mind off of the thrashing in their mind. It was a constant tug-o-war, keeping the jaguar at bay, silently pleading with it to give them a moment within their own body. 

Then again, like Syd normally did, Eleanor could be talking out of her ass. Syd, however, was incapable of dissecting the true meaning of the other’s words. “Ah, shit. No, you’re totally laughing at me. ‘S alright, I get it. I’m sick in the cereal aisle.” Not sick, but plagued with the spirit of something they should have been able to harmonize with. Syd finally tore their gaze from the ceiling. It landed back on Eleanor and they let out a laugh of their own, however it sounded congested and strained, as if being peeled from their lungs. “You should ask for a raise, deffo.” They gave a curt nod, pushing away from the shelf slightly, grip loosening. “I can be my own DoorDasher, y’know?” Their reasoning for why they looked violently ill was slipping. Realistically, nobody should go out when they were sick. Syd looked like they didn’t care about those around them, and they didn’t like that, but it was too late to fall back on the excuse now. “Thought it was over, then it fucked me up again is all. You know, false hope.” For somebody who engaged in therapeutic discussions, surely Eleanor wouldn’t be able to argue the topic of false hope. “Hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you deserve a gold star. Not many people’d take a look at someone hunched against a shelf and ask if they were okay.” Syd’s voice was still strained, but the cloud of agitation was dissipating. 

It was Eleanor’s turn to scoff. “Perhaps if the whole writing thing doesn’t work out then I’ll definitely either become a therapist or a marketer for them. Maybe BetterHelp can sponsor my upcoming book.” She joked, glad to have gotten some amusement out of them. She shrugged and fiddled with the basket in her hands. “I just know how to sound like I know what I’m talking about. It’s a skill, really, one that I inherited from someone in the past.” One of her past foster fathers had been one of the best bullshitters she’d ever met in her life - she’d learned from him how to boost herself up in the best way possible but she only used it whenever necessary. She noticed that Syd had started to take deep breaths which was a good sign, it meant that they had at least started the process of calming down.

Eleanor bit her lip to keep from laughing again. “I swear that I’m not laughing at you but you have to admit that this kind of interaction isn’t necessarily… normal. Did you wake up planning to speak with a stranger next to colorful boxes of cereal because she refused to leave you alone while you were sick? I’m self aware enough to know that I’m a little annoying but, I don’t know, I think sometimes it pays off.” The gold star comment made another giggle rise out of her. She liked Syd, even if they did seem like they were going through a lot more than they were willing to disclose. She probably wouldn't have been comfortable laying everything out on the table, either. But she could tell from the emotions that flowed from them that a lot more was going on with them whether they’d admit it or not. “I’m a sucker for gold stars, the other kids in my class used to hate me because I’d do everything I could to get one added to my chart every day. I was that kid.” She allowed her smile to fade just a tad so that she looked more serious. “Are you sure you’re alright? I’ve asked that a million times but please, if there’s truly anything I can do let me know. Maybe I could help you out of this stupid aisle? I’m sure that tiger staring at you isn’t helping.”

“Yeah, who knows. Maybe they’ll jump at the chance.” Syd grimaced, knowing well enough that continuing to talk through things like it was all fine probably would have turned out not fine, and leaving was definitely the smarter thing to do, but Eleanor’s kindness was hard to turn down. “A book though, really? Yeah, I guess that tracks. You look like a writer.” In a way that books wrote about writers, but Syd wasn’t sure that Eleanor would take that as a compliment. Syd definitely meant it as one. Not that they read a whole lot, but still. “Oh, so you’re bullshitting me? Does therapy even really work?” They steeled themselves, knowing the joke probably didn’t hit the way they wanted it to given the fact that they were trying not to fall apart. “That was a joke.” Maybe that would help. 

“I think that I plan on that every day. It’s what keeps me going.” Syd tilted their head back, letting out another breath, pushing the jaguar out from the corners of their mind. It was still circling, a constant thing, claws ripping into her psyche, but she could handle it. Could coax it into submission, at least for the time being. Without really knowing if it was the death of Callum or the abnormality that had done this to her, she had no way of fixing it, but taking deep breaths did help, and so did having somebody to talk to about it, even if it wasn’t necessarily the truth, and instead just a simple distraction or two. As Eleanor went on to explain that she gained the most gold stars out of any other kid in her grade, Syd nodded. “Yeah, that also fucking tracks. You look like one of those kids who’d put it in a whole ass sticker book or something. It’s probably in a box somewhere, right?” Eleanor was making it easy to make fun of her, and Syd felt a little bad. “That was another joke, by the way, even if it’s kind of true?” They leaned away from the shelf finally, realigning their gaze with Eleanor’s, no longer tracing out the patterns of the ceiling. “The flu is a bitch, what can I say?” Syd wore a lopsided smile that looked more like a grimace, so she tried a little harder, pushing it to reach her eyes. “The tiger can’t do shit to me, but uh, I really– seriously, thanks for hanging out while I go through the ten stages of what the fuck is happening.” 

Although some might not have taken it as a compliment Eleanor was thrilled to hear that she “looked like a writer”. She had always been able to point out an author in any crowd simply by the way they dressed and handled themself and she wanted to give herself a pat on the back for being able to emulate such a presence. “I’ve spent years trying to perfect my wardrobe and even my hair - I think the new bangs are what really ties the whole look together. It’s even more evident whenever I wear my glasses - I see that as a compliment whenever someone is able to guess that I write for a living. What do you do, if I may ask?” She wanted to continue the conversation because it seemed that she and Syd had finally gotten to a place of friendliness. “Oh, it definitely works, I can assure you of that. I would be absolutely falling apart at the seams if not for my therapist. But I know a joke when I hear it.” She winked at them.

“Well in that case I need to start planning very strange and specific things to do in my day. This has been nice, getting to meet a lovely new person.” Eleanor liked Syd a lot and she hoped that maybe if they were to run into one another at a different time that it would be under better circumstances. She blushed but nodded to answer the other’s question. “Actually… I believe it’s in a box in my parents’ home. My mother is very sentimental about things like that. She wants to bring out all of my book reports and essays anytime someone speaks about my books - she wants the world to know how young I began writing but I find it a bit embarrassing.” She subconsciously mimicked Syd and took a deep breath, happy to see them finally standing up straight and making eye contact. “Talking is what I do best! I’m always happy whenever someone’s around who I can yap to so thank you for making my day better. I’m sorry that we couldn’t have met under better circumstances, maybe we’ll run into one another soon enough and we can have an actual conversation. I promise that I won’t completely talk your ear off, I’ll listen to any and everything you have to say since you’ve allowed me to get carried away this time.”

Syd couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as Eleanor went on to explain that she purposely dressed as a writer, hoping others would deduce as such. Yeah, maybe that was important– being proud of whatever you did. When Syd worked at the tattoo shop, it’d been a lot more obvious what they did for a living, but now that that was behind them, nobody ever really pointed at them and said campsite manager. Not unless they knew them from before, at least. “I run the three pines with my parents.” This time, as they spoke, it wasn’t said through gritted teeth. That was good, at least– a change in direction, a chance that the jaguar was beginning to settle down. They let out another chuckle, this time more strained, as Eleanor reassured them that therapy did in fact work. “Alright, you’ve got me. You therapized me here, I’m a believer now.” Not quite, but on the fringes of it. Eleanor had in fact helped them calm down considerably. 

Lovely was a stretch, but Syd made no move to correct her. Maybe in another life, they would’ve been lovely to meet, all toothy grins and an arm wrapped around her shoulder as they showed her to the seat where she’d get her first tattoo, because they definitely wouldn’t have met in the cereal aisle where Syd was having a meltdown. No way. That was definitely not the way Syd liked to meet people, nor the way they liked to leave a lasting impression. “Of fucking course you do.” This time it was a snort instead of a chuckle. “Cute, though. Sounds like a good mom.” Their mom was the same. Even if the first time they’d come home with a tattoo, they’d nearly been disowned. Over time, they accepted that the art Syd created wasn’t meant for a sketchbook, and rather for their skin, and that of their peers. “I feel like that should be the case, though. Pretty fucking important, to be proud of something like that. Not everyone just writes a book.” That wasn’t necessarily true, so Syd amended, “or is good at it.” They didn’t know if Eleanor’s books were good or not, but they made a mental note to at least find it on audio book. “Nah, you’re– you did more than enough.” Eleanor didn’t need to stop at all, and Syd was grateful she did, even if annoyance had transcended that feeling entirely during their first moments. “But uh, I’m good– flu is hitting the road or whatever.” 

The jaguar was still antagonistic, and it’d be good to go home and avoid any more uphill battles. “Not every day somebody stops and talks to somebody who’s bitching at them for being too loud.” Not that Syd had been yelling at Eleanor specifically, but it could’ve come across as that. “I appreciate you though, for real. Uh, keep… being a therapist to people in the streets. Or don’t, maybe not– maybe a bad idea.” Especially here. “Maybe only do it in public places?” They let out another short laugh. 

Laughter was a good sign and Eleanor once again gave herself a pat on the back for the progress Syd had made. She hadn’t been entirely sure that any of her efforts would affect them at all so to see such a change made her happy. “That sounds wonderful, I’m guessing you’re outside a lot? That’s the perfect time to just let loose and take a couple deep breaths in case you’re ever needing to calm yourself. It worked for me although I’m sure my neighbors believed me to be completely off my rocker after that time I went out into the rain to do some deep breathing. It couldn’t wait, I needed to do it then and there.” She wasn’t sure if Syd meant what they said about her convincing them that therapy worked, but since she’d accomplished her goal of calming them down that was all that mattered to her. “Good. I’m glad that I could be of assistance.”

Syd’s words encouraged Eleanor. She knew what a difficult road it was to write books, much less books that were welcomed with open arms by the public and did well, so it was nice to have some recognition. “I’m obviously not the best but my books do well enough for me to live off of what I make from them, that’s a huge deal in the writing community. I don’t like to sound like I’m bragging though, no one likes someone who talks about themself during the entire conversation, so back to you: I’m glad that you’re feeling better. I’m sure the flu probably just got annoyed with me and decided to abandon ship. It was my pleasure being able to be your makeshift therapist for a little while, but I certainly don’t think that I’ll be doing it too often. I got lucky running into someone who didn’t try to fight me or something because I was only trying to help. I hope you have a lovely rest of your day, you should definitely go home and rest so that you don't get sick again.” She shifted awkwardly onto the balls of her feet because she was unsure how to end the conversation. “Goodbye Syd, hopefully we’ll run into each other again when you’re feeling better.” She offered them one last smile then finally turned and actually continued on down the aisle to continue her shopping.

[reyesstrand]

semicompleted saturday

thank you for the tag @heartstringsduet @inflarescent and @birdclowns (also tagged by @whatsintheboxmh !!) <3

rules: share one scene or art that never made it into a/the finished piece and probably never will.

turns out i don’t have many extra scenes saved sjdnsjd but i do have this little thing! so back when i was writing to which there is no reply i played around with the idea of switching to tk’s pov a couple of times, but i ended up liking the flow and consistency of staying in carlos’ head! this is all that remains of what would’ve been tk’s pov!

TK loves the slowness of it.

He’s a little hypnotized by it; the slow give and take of the tide as it just barely reaches his toes, the slant of pink morning light reflecting off the gentle waves. He should be scared of the water, by now. It should remind him of being pulled out of the surf in Montauk, five and stunned into silence in his mother’s arms when she hugged him tight on the shoreline, the two of them dripping messes of dark brown hair and grey-green eyes. It should remind him of fluid in his lungs and the moment he died, not for the first time, naked and frozen and so certain that would be it, even as Nancy and Tommy trembled through compressions.

But it doesn’t. It’s gentle like a lullaby, as he rests his crossed arms on his knees and props his head up on them, eyes set out on the horizon where the sky meets the ocean. He absently twirls his wedding band around and around with his thumb, and watched as seagulls fly high and squawk; as the sun slowly climbs higher and higher; as a familiar tread of footsteps grows louder and louder in his direction.

“Missed a spot, yesterday,” the deep hum of Carlos’ voice tells him, as his knuckles ghost over the line of pinkish-red not-quite-sunburn along the back of TK’s neck. He should’ve re-applied sunscreen after their dip in the pool at noon yesterday, but he doesn’t think anyone would blame him for choosing Carlos and the wide spread of his arms, instead, as a twangy live band started playing and the music pulled them into a dance, as natural as breathing. TK shivers, a little, and Carlos drops down next to him and kisses the hinge of his jaw. “Morning.”

“Morning,” TK returns, cocking his head to the side and watching as Carlos gets comfortable on the sand, as he tilts his face toward the sea-spray and the sun. His cheek squishes against his forearm, obstructing his view the tiniest bit, but TK still knows Carlos is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

There’s a tiredness to him, though, that makes TK toss and turn at night. There’s an aching sadness that glosses over his eyes, and he won’t talk about it, and TK doesn’t know how to make him feel better. He’s just like one of the lone birds bobbing along the tide—lost and going with the motions until he can’t anymore.

“Come here,” Carlos whispers to him, snapping TK out of it. He’s in one of those moods this morning, his eyes alight with something golden and more familiar. TK grins and scoots impossibly closer and leans into it when Carlos kisses him, tasting of toothpaste and salty sea air, something he wants to savour as long as he can.

gonna leave an open tag for this!!! please tag me if you do share, would love to see it <3