#Is his head and snout shape

[shrikeseams]

Unpopular Huan opinion: I don't think he should look like an identifiable dog breed. He should be massive, vaguely hound-ish, and fundamentally mutty. He should look like Yavanna and Orome took every single breed of hunting and retrieving and livestock guardian and gun dog, broke them down in to fundamental bits like skull shape and leg length and fur texture, shook all those bits up in a paper bag, and played mix-and-match with whichever parts they pulled out of the bag first.

[canisalbus]

I tried to draw sheep Machete and goat Vasco (but I am not good at drawing goats, at all)

.

[trollbreak]

Beastly my beloved but oh my god it’s so hard for me to make sense of a muzzle lol

[dark-moonlust]

Filled and Stretched

Pairing: Minotaur x human F!reader

Summary: You Minotaur boyfriend gets jealous when you don’t give him enough attention. He makes sure to fuck you nice and deep, remind you how important it is not to ignore him.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, explicit Minotaur smut, huge 🍆, lots of cum. Don’t like, don’t read.

You and your Minotaur boyfriend had been together for two years. You loved him. He was so big and powerful, yet deep down so tender and caring— he could also be seductive and fuck you within an inch of your life. You loved that even more.

One evening, you were in the study, reading one of the ancient books your boyfriend had fished out of the maze. This one was on Greek Mythology, the stories and sketches captivating. Before long, hours had passed with you pouring over the old pages. You tensed a little when you sensed a shift in the atmosphere around you.

Looking up from your book, you found your Minotaur resting against the doorframe. His was as tall and wide as the door, with the body of a muscular man and the head of a powerful bull. Shiny dark brown fur covered his body and large, curved horns protruded from his head. His eyes were pitch black and hungry with need.

“I almost regret getting you those books. You’ve been spending a lot of time on your own,” he said, his voice rumbling deliciously.

“Someone craves attention,” you teased, gazing at him appreciatively. He stepped closer until he was towering above you, his body honed with muscles.

“I desire your touch and affection. Enough of this stupid reading.” His massive hands wrapped around you and brought you flush against him. “I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk, little mate.”

“I accept the challenge.”

“Oh, it wasn’t a challenge,” he growled, desire burning in his eyes.

Your clothes were dragged and tossed carelessly on the floor. He lifted your small frame and got you on your knees on a chair. Big hands opened the cheeks of your ass, exposing your slick pussy to him. He kneeled behind you and closed his mouth over your fat pussy lips, suckling loudly.

Clutching the back of the chair, you moaned and wiggled your bum against his face. You wanted to get closer, you wanted him inside you. He growled, pleased as he tongued your cunt shamelessly, thrusting a thick finger in your depths. You accepted it easily, your walls stretching around it. Another one followed and you squealed as it pushed inside you.

"Please, ah, hah," your words faded as he devoured your cunt, licking your clit round and round. Your vision went white, pussy clenching violently around his thick fingers. He kept licking your oversensitive clit and you bucked, letting out long drawn out moans.

Thick hairy thighs settled on either side of your legs. He was so tall that he had curved his whole body behind you, half crouching.

You licked your lips when you felt the warmth of his leaking cock rubbing along your pussy. His shaft was thick and long, jutting angrily toward his stomach and leaking cum. Heavy balls hung low, ready to release their load inside you. You leaned back into your boyfriend’s chest and let his musky scent surround you.

His snout buried in your neck as he fingered your cunt and replaced them with his cockhead. He parted your pussy lips and moved his hips, the wide head of his dick entering you inch by delectable inch. You clutched his hands for stability, your breath hitching when he bottomed out. Your eyes closed, fires igniting within you.

You felt him throb inside you, your belly bulging with the shape of his monstrous dick.

“Pretty,” the Minotaur rumbled, rubbing your belly. He turned even harder inside you and you hissed as the head of his cock kissed your cervix.

“You’re impossible.”

“I haven’t even began to fuck you crazy.”

You didn’t manage to reply because he started thrusting, fucking you with primal ferocity, his thrusts deep and powerful. You were so slick that his cock came out frothing with your juices. He buried himself over and over while his heavy balls hit the back of your thighs.

He fucked you to the edge of ecstasy and you came hard around him, sweet climax rolling through you. Your contractions made him pump faster, and with a defeating roar, he spurted inside you, his cock pulsing so strongly that you came again with violent aftershocks. Load after load of hot cum was released inside you, it filled your belly and trickled down your shaking legs.

Inhuman hands cupped your tits, thumbs rubbing your nipples and around the areolas. You collapsed on his chest and he growled, lifting you gently by cupping under your knees. Gasping, you wrapped your arms around him as he walked with you strapped on his dick. You landed face down on the bed but he turned you onto your side, spooning you with his large hairy body from behind.

“Now, onto round two, little mate,” he drawled and began to fuck you again.

Hours passed with him owning your pussy. Your voice turned hoarse from all the moaning and crying out. And when your Minotaur was finally sated, the sheets reeked of your sex and his cum. Too fucked to do anything about it now, you curled up in the curve of his big strong body and let sleep take you.

You’d make sure to challenge him again.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flag IV

Frida Maanum x Emma Lennartsson x Child!Reader

Summary: You're hurt and scared

Your head throbs as you wake up, the pitter-patter of rain falling on your skin.

The rain is cold but your tears are hot, scorching your skin as they roll down your cheeks.

The butterfly you were chasing is missing, flown away to hide from the spring storm that you now find yourself trapped in.

You don't know how long it has been raining but you're soaked to the bone and shivering.

Two Jordans whine at you, both blurry around the edges as you sit up.

There is a sharp rock where your head was, blood being washed away as the rain gets heavier.

The Jordans whine at you again and you reach out for one of them but your hand passes right through.

"Jordi?" You ask as the second Jordan nudges you with his snout," I'm tired. Where's...Where's Mama and Mummy?"

Your eyes slip closed for a moment. It's easy to nod off even though you're very cold and your head feels icky.

Jordan barks and you jolt awake again, head throbbing.

Hot blood runs from your forehead down your face as your gaze goes blurry again, Jordan just a weird dog shaped blur.

You want Mama and Mummy. You don't know where they are.

The rain turns to snow quickly and the temperature plummets, your clothes freezing on your body.

Your breath comes out in a puff in front of you.

Jordan barks again, lightly nudging you under a little ledge. It does little to stop the cold but it keeps you out of the snow that clings and melts in your hair.

Jordan is warm against you and you shiver, little hands burying themselves into his fur.

"Mama an' Mummy," You say through cracked lips," Jordi...Where Mama an' Mummy?"

You don't remember much, not really.

You were playing in the forest with Frida earlier and she let you run ahead with Jordan a little bit, as long as you stayed in sight at all times.

There was a fork in the path. Usually, you swing right but Jordan got distracted by a butterfly and went left.

You followed after him, distracted by the butterfly too.

You'd tripped on something. You're not sure what it was, maybe an upturned root or tree branch. You'd tripped though and went tumbling down into the ditch.

You must have hit your head on that rock because your head is all sticky with blood.

"J-Jordi," You say, shivering," 'm cold. Mummy an' Mama be here soon?"

Jordan doesn't answer you, patting his front paws on the ground as you lean more heavily into him.

"'m tired too," You say," Havin' a little nap."

Your fingertips are freezing. You can barely move them as they go from their usual colour to a little purple. Your lips are the same colour but you can't see them.

"Jus' a little nap. A little one, Jordi."

Your eyes slip closed again as you lean your head against Jordan's body.

He whines a little, shifting around before he's curled fully around you.

Jordan's nice and warm like your blankets at home, when you're wedged between Mama and Mummy in front of the fire with a little mug of hot chocolate that Mummy makes special for you with whipped cream, chocolate shavings and marshmallows.

You don't know how long you nap for or even if you nap at all.

It's like one long blink as Jordan shifts away from you, barking and snarling.

You've never heard Jordan snarl before so you try to wrench your eyes open. It's hard going though, frozen shut by all your tears, but eventually, you get them open.

There's another dog shaped blur in front of Jordan, lying down on the ground nonplussed.

There's a human shape too and you puff out a big breath.

"Mama?"

"No, sweetie," The blob says," I'm not your Mama. But I'm here to take you to her. Can you come a bit closer?"

You try to get closer but you don't have much strength to get to your feet, all shaky and weak.

Jordan whines when you fall over and snaps as the strange woman comes closer.

"Easy," She says to your dog," I'm here to help her. That's a nasty cut you've got there. Can you tell me how it happened?"

"I...I hurted myself when I fell. Big ouchie."

"Yeah, it is. I've got a little bandage here, can I put it on you?"

"Bandage? Like-Like a plaster?"

"Like a big plaster."

You lean forward and the woman gently presses the gauze over your bleeding head.

"And what about your eyesight? Can you see me properly?"

"Like-Like a blob," You answer," Saw two Jordi's earlier but now only one."

"Okay, sweetheart, thanks for telling me." She reaches for her radio. "I've got her here. Skipper tracked her and her dog down. I've got a serious head wound and a likely grade three concussion. Complaints of blurry vision. Likely loss of consciousness. Difficulties with balance and speech. I've got early symptoms of hypothermia but it seemed her dog helped stave the worst of that off."

You reach out for Jordan again, who presses into your body.

"Got it, boss. Bringing her in now."

The woman reaches for you and you go willingly.

She'll take you to Mama and Mummy.

Jordan pads after you, still wary.

Emma sits at the entrance of the forest next to the ambulance. Frida sobs at her side, both of them wrapped in a blanket as they wait.

They know the paramedic has found you now, her and her dog Skipper have tracked you and Jordan down but it doesn't quell Emma's worry for you.

Not until the high-vis jacket pokes out from the forest and the search and rescue team swarm.

A blanket is wrapped around you tightly and the gauze is gently pulled away from your face to see the extent of the injury.

"Squish?" Frida calls, trying to fight through the crowd," Is she okay? Will she be alright?"

You're loaded into the ambulance, awake and talking as Emma and Frida crowd around you.

"Mama. Mummy," You say," Found me."

"Yeah," Emma says, blinking away tears," Of course we found you, squish."

You shiver. "Stayed put like you told me if I got lost. Stayed with Jordi."

Emma glances down at her feet. Jordan's covered in snow, streaks of blood drying on his fur.

"Jordi, good boy."

"The best boy."

Frida takes Emma's place talking to you, cupping your cheek as Emma reaches down for Jordan.

"You're such a good boy, Jordi," She tells him," For looking after her. The best big brother in the world."

"He almost attacked Skipper for trying to get to her," The search and rescue paramedic that found you says," He was very worried on the walk back. You've got a good one there. Both of them. She didn't run off. She stayed exactly where she fell."

"Thank you, for finding her."

"It's my job. We've got a hospital nearby that will take care of you all. They'll take her for a scan, sew up her head and put her on concussion watch. She'll be fine."

Emma can't help but repeat it again. "Thank you."

"Go," The woman says," Be with your kid."

You won't remember much of this experience. You'll never really remember the fall or the crack of your skull against the rock. You'll never really remember the nearly three hours you spent missing, huddled under the ledge with Jordan, who was desperately trying to keep you awake as your breathing got shallower and shallower and your got colder and colder.

You'll never remember the trip to the hospital but you will remember the paramedic that found you and her dog Skipper.

You will always remember her high-vis jacket and her body against yours as she carried you out of the forest back to your mothers.

You will always carry that memory with you, even when you're out in your own high-vis jacket with your own tracking dog and your own emergency medicine kit.

[lordprettyflackotara]

decode || ticci toby

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: face fucking, bear death?, reader is extremely oblivious/naive

You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

It had been ten days. Ten long agonizing days since you had seen him.

You had been wondering in the forest. Aimlessly of course, searching for some connection with nature you could never quite obtain. Civilization was a couple of miles away, sticks crunching beneath your boots. You had heard what sounded like footsteps behind you. Normally you weren’t a paranoid person, but the consistent sound made you constantly glance over your shoulder. This distraction led you to what seemed to be the end, a grizzly bear rising on two legs to glare down at you. Unknowingly you had stumbled upon it feasting, blood covering its snout and a deer carcass behind it. The corpse was long forgotten, its beady eyes centered on you.

All safety measures you had been taught went out of the window. Every bit of flight or fight completely vacant in your mind as you stared up in fear. The bear could practically smell the terror dripping off of you. You began to walk backwards, doubting your ability to outrun a bear. It was then you tripped, an overgrown tree root causing you to land on your ass. You gasped as the bear towered over you, a low growl sending shivers down your spine. You were sure that was the end, your heart pounding in your chest. That was before an axe went flying into the bears neck, the blood splattering across your face.

Your savior, an odd lanky man with goggles and face mask ran over to the bear, yanking the thrown axe out of its neck. You were surprised at how fast the animal fell over, its breath ragged and shallow. You blinked, the brunette man turning to you, his skin a grayish white you couldn’t quite make sense of. From the color of his skin you’d assume he was deathly ill, yet he seemed more in shape than you. His appearance was frightening and unsettling. He should’ve scared you, especially after just slaughtering a full grown grizzly bear. Yet his presence put you at ease. He stepped over the fallen animal, standing over you. He extended his hand, his palms covered in soiled bandages. Hesitantly you accepted it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. You tried to see his eyes, the reflective bright orange goggles staring down at you. He was far taller than you, your head forced to tilt upwards to look at him. “Thank you,” You say softly. The forest seemed to fall silent, the only sound audible the bear slowly bleeding out.

“Go home.”

His voice was jagged and rough, causing your eyebrows to raise. You wiped yourself off, the pine needles that had attached themselves to your jeans falling to the forest floor. “Can I at least know your name?” You asked. The brunette seemed hesitant, before slinging his axe over his shoulder.

“Toby.”

After that he glanced over his shoulder, as if he heard something you couldn’t. “Go home kid,” He huffed, jumping over the bears corpse and running in the opposite direction. You listened to his request, turning around and heading straight back the way you came.

Ten days. It had been ten days since Toby had saved you, your mysterious savior haunting your dreams. You had dreams of him saving you repeatedly. Those dreams were short lived, followed by nightmares that caused you to wake up screaming. In some he would attack you with the axe, in others he would feed you to the bear. You feared and craved him all at the same time. This lead to you making irrational decisions. You called out of work regularly, spending all of your time in the forest. You felt like you were going insane. After you had washed the blood off of your face, you had no evidence he ever truly existed. Were you going crazy? You couldn’t be. Your determination to prove your sanity led to you back in the forest once more.

You were searching for him. Searching for evidence he ever existed. Originally you had searched for the bears corpse, only to find it gone. You swore you could’ve recalled the exact spot, even finding the exact overgrown root of the tree that caused you to trip. Yet there was no corpse. No sign of anything at all. You found yourself in the same spot again, searching the pine needles that covered the forest floor. There had to be something. A bear that size surely couldn’t evaporate into thin air over ten days. You’d still be able to find its skeleton or dried blood. The circle of life was fast, but not fast enough to make a creature that large disappear. You kneeled down to the ground, pushing a pile of the pine needles aside. You frowned in disappointment when you found nothing but dirt. It was then a chill ran down your spine, the eerie feeling of being watched causing your body to tense. Hesitantly you stood up, looking around.

“Hello?”

Your voice seemed to echo through out the endless trees, the wind causing leafs to fall from the highest branches. It was only then Toby revealed himself, dressed in the same dirt covered attire he wore when you last saw him. “W-why do you keep c-coming back here?” Toby questioned. His tone was harsh, causing you to flinch. You felt overjoyed at the sight of him, his presence alone proving to you he was real. But his tone was chilling, his words dripping with a deeper meaning then you realized. “I keep having dreams about you. I don’t understand it, but you’ve left a mark on me somehow,” You admitted. Your words hardly meant sense to you, yet they seemed to register for Toby. He rounded the tree he was standing behind, approaching you. “Y-you should’ve just forgotten a-about me,” He said coldly. You were stunned, noting he now had two axes, both tucked onto holsters. “How could I? It’s not everyday a guy slaughters a bear for you,” You argued. Toby seemed frustrated, his shoulders tensing.

“I’m not your everyday j-jo. I c-can’t wine and d-dine you. I’m not like every o-o-other pussy you’ve ever let fuck you,” He spat. You glared at him. Your dreams meant something, you knew they did. They had to. “My dreams mean something don’t they? That’s why you’re trying to scare me off!” You said accusingly. Toby approached you, towering over you. His pace was aggressive, causing you to step backwards against a large tree. You felt the bark scrape at your jacket, swallowing at Toby caged you against the wood. “You d-don’t know what y-you’re getting into k-kid,” Toby snarled. You shook your head. “You won’t hurt me. I know you won’t. I don’t care. There’s something drawing me to you. I can’t ignore it,” You confessed. You bit your lower lip, causing Toby to tilt his head to the side. You could tell he was thinking, his mind racing as he stared down at you.

“How s-strange. I can’t tell if your i-i-infatuation is caused by boss n-not,” He mused. He lifted his hand, gently brushing the side of your face. His hands were dirty, yet his finger tips grazed your skin as if you were made of glass. You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, Toby suddenly leaning away. “I-I’ll come back for you,” He decided. He turned away, causing you to follow behind him. You grabbed his arm, Toby stopping dead in his tracks. “Where will we meet? Here?” You asked. Toby looked over his shoulder at you. You wished you could see his facial expression, his words seemingly cold and calculated. “No. Never c-come back h-h-here. I’ll find you,” He ordered. He shrugged your grip off of him, beginning to stalk away. “Oh and while you’re at it kid, i-it’s in your best interest to f-find a way to repay me,” Toby said flatly, before disappearing once again.

Your simple conversation played on repeat in your head. Looping round and round. Who was his boss? How could his ‘boss’ cause the dreams? The nightmares? The infatuation? You stared up blankly at the ceiling at night, your inability to sleep resulting in your job threatening to fire you from calling out so much. Everything seemed to be crumbling around you and you didn’t understand why. It was a night like the rest of them, your eyes blankly staring up at the ceiling. You had managed to count every spec, your eyes becoming crossed. You had stared for so long you swore you were beginning to see shapes and patterns. Maybe you were hallucinating. Maybe you were going insane. Could surviving a grizzly bear attack drive you mad? Or maybe you didn’t survive at all. Maybe you were dead and this was some weird purgatory. Maybe Toby didn’t exist at all and your mind made him up to avoid processing the extreme trauma. Maybe-

Your thoughts were disrupted by a knock on your window, the sound causing you to jump. Scrambling to throw off the covers you jumped out of bed, rubbing your eyes before yanking your curtains open. Toby gave you a simple wave, his axe slung over his shoulder. You opened the window, watching him climb inside. “I have a front door you know,” You said. You watched him shut the window, yanking the curtains shut. “D-draws too m-much attention. B-besides, this won’t take long,” Toby said. He dropped his axe down on the floor, shoving his goggles on top of his head. His chocolate eyes met yours, staring down at you. “I need you t-to know you don’t want this, I-I need you to be afraid of me,” He growled. You didn’t understand, slowly taking a step backwards. “Why?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Toby followed you slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. “I-i’m not the good guy. All of these b-b-bullshit fantasies you’ve cooked up-p are wrong,” He spat. You felt your face turn red, your eyes widening. How did he know-

“I’m n-not your savior. In e-every other scenario, i’m the bear,” He growled. There was something about his voice, his eyes, the way he stood over you. You hated how attracted to him you were in this moment. “I don’t believe you. You won’t hurt me,” You whispered. In a swift motion his fingers were wrapped around your throat, your back colliding with the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your hands flying to his wrist. He glared down at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

Toby didn’t have it in himself to kill you. He was in deep enough shit with The Operator already, just by saving you. Proxies were designed to be ghost. They operated entirely by invisibility. They were never there. They never left any trances of their presence or work. Toby had a small solo mission, one that didn’t require Masky or Hoodie monitoring him. His mistake was traveling through the forest on foot, just trying to make it back to the mansion as swiftly as possible. He had noticed you way before the grizzly bear. You were quite pretty. Plump lips, soft eyes, gorgeous skin. Toby couldn’t help but allow himself a rare pleasure just for a brief moment. He couldn’t recall the last time he had been around a girl that wasn’t a designated target. In all fairness, Toby hadn’t seen the grizzly either. He was too focused on you and your beauty, his survival skills temporarily subsided. When you ran into the bear he didn’t have time to think, only to act. He felt an odd urge to protect you. Whether or not The Operator would forgive him for acting on this urge was a different story.

Toby was permitted to see you one final time, to finish the job. Masky and Hoodie had removed the bear corpse and any signs of Toby’s presence. Proxies weren’t allowed to leave evidence or witnesses. The Operator would’ve been mildly satisfied with allowing you to believe you were going insane. The supernatural being stayed lurking in your thoughts, sprinkling fear through out your persistent dreams. He turned them into night terrors. Toby felt guilty, knowing that your sanity would eventually turn into mush. He monitored you closely, watching you return to the forest. He feared The Operator’s influence was only encouraging you to continue your investigation. Toby knew he had to put a stop to it. For your future would become far more tarnished if you continued to anger The Operator. So he took it upon himself to attempt to fix the situation. What he hadn’t accounted for was your faith. You had raw uncensored faith in him. Toby couldn’t quite understand why. He needed to scare you away. Your interest in him needed to fade away from your memory.

Yet it didn’t, your eyes widened as you stared up at him in awe. Your lips were parted, your heart pounding as he squeezed your neck. He shoved his knee in between your legs, a small gasp escaping your lips. He blinked, confused at the erotic sound. “I-is this how you w-wanted to repay me?” Toby asked. The idea made his head spin. The idea that something as pure and innocent as you would want him. Your face was turning a darker shade of red, your tongue tied. He loosened his grip on your throat, watching as you gulped large amounts of oxygen. “P-please,” You sputtered, gulping. Toby’s pupils blew with lust, his hand falling from your throat. All of this time he wanted to scare you, yet you were willing to let him fuck you? “You’re not scared of me?” Toby asked hesitantly, You nodded, refusing to break eye contact. “Good k-keep that in mind,” He ordered. He shoved his face mask aside, quickly pressing his lips against yours. He ignored the burning embarrassment that radiated off of him as he kissed you. His eyes were screwed shut, while yours were wide open.

He knew you were staring at the gash that sat on his cheek. The sight alone was scarring, nevertheless unforgettable. You could see his teeth, the skin around the wound healed and scared over. You wanted to ask questions, but his eager hands grabbing your forearms distracted you. The man before you looked deathly ill and had somehow survived losing a major part of his face. His kisses were hot and heavy, desperate to regain your focus on him and only him. Not his imperfections he kept hidden from the outside world. He couldn’t remember the last time he had kissed anyone, the mint from your tongue dancing across his tastebuds. As he inhaled through his nose deeply he recognized how good you smelled. When’s the last time he had ever smelled anything besides dirt and blood? Toby pulled away, his cheeks a light tint of pink as he stared down at you. You looked so cute and flustered. The man before you was enchanting, a supernatural creature you knew you couldn’t understand. All of that mystery only made you want him more. You sank to your knees slowly, keeping eye contact with the man before you.

Toby wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Doing this, allowing this with you was wrong.

It didn’t matter how much Toby wanted this to happen. It was wrong. The Operator would skin him alive if he knew the devious acts he was committing. He was supposed to be killing you, not watch you unzip his pants with those stupid big eyes of yours. But Toby couldn’t help but feel selfish. He had never felt so possessive before, so desperate to keep something all to himself. But with you, he absolutely did. He did everything for everyone else. For The Operator. For Masky and Hoodie. He hardly ever did anything for himself. As a proxy you’re meant to be a vessel, a working part in a moving machine. You’re apart of a unit, not an individual with wants or desires. Yet without thinking twice he broke away from that mold, by saving you from the bear. The brunette decided that he deserved one thing and that one thing was you.

You shoved his boxers and pants to the floor, his hard cock presenting itself in front of you. The sight of salivating, your lips wrapping around his tip. Toby’s hand found its way to your hair, tangling itself in your roots. “F-fuck just like that,” He groaned, subtly pulling you towards him. You whimpered as you began to bob your head up and down his shaft, the man in front of you borderline shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good. Meanwhile you were a mess, your thighs attempting to rub together to create some friction while you sucked his cock. You felt your nipples harden under your shirt, your eyes struggling to stay open. His large hand on the back of your head guided you to go faster, his tip scraping the back of your throat. “My f-fucking fuck!” Toby groaned. You were so perfect. So pretty and usable. And better yet? You were all his. His hips began to snap faster into your mouth, his cock now face fucking you. You gagged on his shaft, his girth far larger than you had anticipated for.

You gripped at his thighs, saliva trailing down the sides of your mouth as he abused your throat. “Such a good fleshlight,” Toby moaned. You felt tears begin to flood your waterline, your jaw forced to go slack. Toby’s thrust were relentless, the brunette obsessed with chasing his high. “A-awe you look so adorable drooling on my c-cock,” Toby cooed mockingly, relishing in the sight of the fresh tears dripping down your cheeks. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, his fingers yanking at the roots of your hair. You moaned around his shaft, the vibrations enough to send him over the edge. He thrust inside of your throat one final time, his seed spilling down your throat. Satisfied, he watched as you struggled to swallow his load. You gagged as he pulled out of your mouth, watching you gulp down oxygen as you wiped the saliva from the sides of your mouth. Toby knelt down in front of you, cupping your cheek with his large hand. He wiped away one of your tears with his thumb, leaning in to kiss you. Just as his lips were about to graze yours, the overwhelming sound of static flooded his head.

He cursed as he leaned away, his hands gripping his head. “What is it? What’s wrong?” You asked. Toby shook his head. “Boss is calling, gotta go,” He said dryly. He began to redress himself, rising to his feet. You awkwardly joined him, wetness dampening your panties between your thighs. “What about me?” You asked softly. Toby hadn’t considered your needs, his eyes widening as he turned back to look at you. Your face was flushed, your hair a mess. Your lips were red and plump from his abuse, your thighs rubbing together as you stood in front of him. Toby unsurely tucked some stray hairs behind your ear, pulling his mask over his nose. “Dont wait up for me, but i’ll be back,” He said. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, tangoing with the devil that was beckoning him. He felt a brief moment of sympathy, noting the sadness in your eyes. He shoved his goggles over his eyes, throwing himself into the night. You watched him go, leaving you to decode everything that just happened.

[just-some-user-hunny]

More Cannibal thoughts...

~ Cannibal is an ancient creature, yet he is far from brittle. He may ache and groan when he rises from slumber, but the way he carries his tremendous weight with those powerful wings that envelope the sky you could barely tell.

He's old, but not tired.

He's as full with fire as the day he hatched alone in his nest. With the temperament of a wild ferocious dog who's tail does not wag, hes full of pride. How can he not be? He has outlived many dragons. He survived the doom. He was here before the targarian blood came and imprisoned the remaining dragons to impairment.

He's survived off the blood and flesh and bone of his own kin, there is no softness to him. The countless tales of wannabe dragon tamers who have found their deaths awaiting in his stomach, or the nest of bones he resides in are far from fiction. He's untouchable, something he prides and revels in.

But then you came along...

~ Considering he's such a large dragon and refuses to wear a saddle, you'll probably have to pull a Daenarys targarian and ride bareback. A large part of this however is also a reflection of your bond. You keep him free of reigns and confining straps, and he keeps you safe and out of harms way whenever you ride with him. It displays the strength of your mutual trust, and how he isn't a tool to you. You are so close, scales to skin, that you are almost one. It may be terrifying to your family, but you'll never be safer. He has a thick spine of large pointy spikes and scales to hang onto. I also like to imagine that you somehow find a way to create some 'handles' that are tied to a few of his spikes for you to hang onto. It's not as constricting as reigns, and it's about the only thing he'll endure. For you, he supposes he can cope.

. He's a territorial dragon, and is such a grump about it. If another dragon even appears on your line of sight, he's all growls and bared teeth- letting this other dragon know you are off limits. He may even disappear like a disgruntled cat if he picks up a scent belonging to another dragon on you. (This does not stop Syrax from snuggling her snout into your hair, or Ceraxes from huffing his dragon breath all over you like a panting dog).

He'll press his scarred nuzzle to your hair, huffing and sniffing loudly like a dog- before the inevitable deep displeased rumble thunders from his throat. It never fails to make you laugh, such a giant dragon huffing gently over such a small human and then having a strop. You'll pat tenderly against black scales and exposed teeth to appease him- which usually works. As long as you sing his praises in the sky later. The chip in his scaly armour is you, after all.

~ He won't be confined to the dragon Pitts, he'll let you learn right away. Besides- it'd be too tempting not to grab a snack or two if he were to somehow squeeze his behemoth size into the little stone dungeons. He'll probably have to be kept on an entirely separate island near DragonStone, and even then he'll come and go. Do not fret though, he'll never dream of leaving you for long. He also has this way of telling when you're in trouble, and he'll come barreling back through the skies back to you- no matter the weather. You're his, after all. His human. No-one gets to hurt you under his claim and watch.

~ speaking about being under his watch, oh boy are you. There's never a moment in his presence where his eyes are off you. Since he probably bonded himself to you when you were young, he cannot help but see you as a fragile little child in his eyes. If his gaze isn't glued to you like a hovering parent, then he always somehow knows if you're in trouble or not. The bond between you two can be the only reasonable explanation. And there's nothing he adores more than seeing humans tremble and fall still like rigid corpses at the sight of him. Either it be his dark form encompassing the sky like a storm, his shadow forming a dreadful shape above their heads- a promise of dragonfire burning in his throat. Or perhaps his black scaly body descending from a rocky hillside, traversing down with his behemoth claws that piece rock. His eyes never off them as he slinks closer like a snake. A predator. You swear you can see him smirk when he does this, ever so the sadistic show off.

~ you'll find the word that leaves your lips the most often, is 'be calm'. Because oh, this dragon is the most aggressive of them all. He knows no chill, he wants problems. Always.

Either it be a soft mumbled word to soothe his hostile growls towards your father, or a firm yet calm demand before he decides to torch a group of knights who are only there to escort you somewhere, then best believe you'll have your work cut out for you keeping this monster at peace. You are quite literally the only thing keeping him at bay from devouring the guards and dragons around you.

~ I'll also touch upon the effect that riders have upon the relationships of dragons, because it's so beautifully complex. We all saw how Ceraxes sang at the sight of Syrax in season 1, so it's no surprise that the bonds between riders have an effect on the feelings amongst dragons.

So safe to say, Cannibal and Ceraxes are the most at each other's throats (figuratively... At least for now). They growl at each other, Ceraxes slinking his lithe neck back like a coiling serpent, hissing, as your Cannibal glowers and thunder rumbles in his throat. It's a game of who can hold back the most. So far, they're both winning. For now.

[violet-eng]

fem!reader studies Neuviotter! | Fluff 🧸 with Otter Neuvillette… 🔞with Human Neuvillette.

Summary: You're a Sumeru's researcher obsessed with Fontaine otters. So you basically adopt one... unfortunately it looks like that isn't an otter at all...

Warning: 🔞 MDNI. ALL SMUT IS WITH HUMAN NEUVILLETTE! Somnophilia, oral (fem! Receiving), p i v. Unprotected sex.

1.8k words.

Not edited.

⏜︵⊹︵⊹︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜⊹︵⏜︵⊹︵⏜

The prestige of your research precedes you. A diligent student with a flamboyant gait, brilliant ideals and precise knowledge. You arrive at Fontaine from the Sumeru Academy with a precedent never seen before, with your lively, attentive eyes and your notebooks covered in leather the same color as your eyes.

Word spreads immediately that the wise y/n, scholar of the Academia, has come to Fontaine to study a creature that has captured your attention to leave the green land for that of the primordial sea. Could it be that you want to study a mythical creature that lives in underwater caves? Or perhaps a glorious bird has captured your thirst for knowledge?

How surprised your guides were when you shouted with excitement, unable to contain your joy like a little girl, when you spotted a little otter poking its head out of the crystal clear water. You jumped up and down, unable to contain your happiness, exclaiming how amazed you were to see one so close.

Alone, you photograph the otter and go so far as to dive underwater with it, surprised more by how clever it is than by your new curious ability to breathe underwater. What a joy it is to find a group of creatures frolicking with a clam in their midst, spinning in the water and turning to look at you. You may have been down there for an hour.

Back on the surface, sitting on a rock with your feet in the water, you jot down the details in your notebook, tracing with the vague lines of a sketch the elusive shape of the little animals. Concentrating on your task, on defining the details of its snout, you notice on the other bank an otter, different from the others, grooming its head with its small hands.

You watch it carefully, the creature seems a little larger than the others, slender and almost like a gentleman...

"A gentleman otter," you whisper, enraptured by the delicate and magnificent figure grooming itself in front of you. 

The otter makes sounds as he wipes his own face, lying on the surface of the water, carving his features and nose, while his two gnawing teeth peek through his pearly fur. Its small hands wash its own belly, almost ironing its fur as if it were the robe of a great lord. Deeply adorable. You hastily sketch the picture in front of you, not missing a tender detail of the cuddly toy floating carefree on the calm current.

The otter watches you with a lost look, black eyes that seem not to contain a single thought. The bliss of the ignorant. And you wave at him from your rock with a smile.

The otter swims toward you, and when he's within striking distance, he watches you, as if studying you. 

"How smart you look," you say, clutching your notebook to your chest, "and very adorable. Look at you," you show him the drawing.

The otter stares at the paper with a certain analysis, but his unmistakable expression doesn't change. Then he seems to comb an invisible curl out of his furry head and approves your sketch with a formal nod.

"What a gentleman," you squeal, climbing down from your rock and returning to get your things. The otter emerges from the water, shaking his body to dry himself from the water, though he remains fluffy.

"I thought you were waterproof," you laugh at the sight of the expressionless furball, seemingly oblivious to his adorable embarrassment, "you're different, aren't you?" you approach him with a rag, trying to dry him.

You pull him onto your lap, paws up and his belly exposed as you dry his chest with your cloth, as if he were a baby. Then you wipe his little hands and then his paws. His face is now dry. The otter played with your bracelets, making funny noises and showing his little pearly teeth.

"Do you like it?" you ask, putting it down. The Otter nods enthusiastically. "It would look very cute on you," you add, taking off one of your bracelets and placing it around his neck.

The elastic of the bracelet is lost in his white fur, and the pendant stands out as if it were the clasp of a breastplate. 

"You're missing a hat, and you could pass for another Fontaine gentleman," you exclaim, pleased with the result, as the otter poses like an elegant gentleman, his small chest puffed out, almost proud of how adorable he looks.

"It's getting dark, I should get back now. See you another day, Mr. Otter," you say, slinging your bag over your shoulder and waving your hand.

The otter hurries to follow in your footsteps, prancing subtly near you, his wet nose brushing against your ankle.

"You want to come with me, huh?" you kneel before him, and he touches your nose with his paw. "Fine, fine. We'll have a sleepover."

The place you're staying in is small but cozy, and it gets even cozier when you turn on the heat and put food on the table. The otter sits in a chair across from you, on a mountain of books, and tastes several of the snacks you've served him, though you see him going crazy over some consomme purete and the big glass of pure spring water you've served him.

"You like that, I noticed," you say.

"Burp," the otter replies with a burp that he seems to regret immediately.

"You have more manners than many people," you tell him, wiping his whiskers with a napkin.

"Okay, I'll brush your teeth and then off to bed," you say happily, with the idea of reading to the little animal before bedtime.

You sit him on your sink in front of the mirror, lift his jaw and brush his teeth with your toothbrush and toothpaste, first one side and then the other, make him drink some water and then spit it out, although he swallows it.

"Not your thing to waste water, apparently."

The otter nods.

Then you brush his head, chest, back, and tail, letting him groom himself, and when you try to remove the pin, he hides it in his small hands.

"Okay, okay... I'll leave it to you," you smile.

And then you lie in bed with him in your arms, illuminated by the dim light of your lamp, holding a book with an adventure story in it. You read aloud to him, stopping when you hear him whistling and snoring. 

"Good night, Gentleman Otter," you kiss him on the forehead before turning off the light and going to sleep. ....

You're not one to dream, not at all, but ever since you came to Fontaine, you couldn't help but have these nightly fantasies about Iudex Neuvillette. That stoic and serious man, how good his face would look contorted with pleasure as you sucked his cock.

You had dreamed of a similar situation many times, you had dreamed of him against you as he pinned your frail figure against his desk and thrust into you, biting your lower lip. You had had your first fantasy after a trial, thinking how manly he would look behind you, his cock buried in your ass....

All those dreams had been vivid fantasies, and tonight's took the prize.

You lay on your bed, him biting your neck as he rests behind you, his hands playing with your breasts at his whim, his tongue sliding over your skin, enjoying the nectar of your pure complexion, his cock swollen against your clothed ass.

"Mmmmhhhh, Monsieur~" you moan, writhing in his grip.

The wonderful thing about these dreams is that you don't know how you get into these situations, but you know how to enjoy them. Because from one moment to the next, the oh so taciturn Iudex Neuvillette has his face buried between your legs, tasting your folds and your clit with his trained tongue.

"Right there~" you moan, arching your back as you feel the desire well up from his mouth, his tongue drawing lustful strokes across your sex, his deep sighs stoking the fires of your passion.

His hands wrap around your legs, and for a moment you swear it's real, the way his nails dig into your skin, leaving reddened marks in their wake, and his thumbs sink into your thighs, anchored to you with no intention of letting go.

Then you feel him thrust into you, opening your silken walls in his wake, his thick cock making its way to your center, molding your walls to his erect, large form. You feel him rub against you as your insides embrace him with little restraint.

You hear him moan and feel your legs rise up over his shoulders, his cool hands at your ankles pressing down on you, thrusting slowly but deliciously, almost as if you were made for him. 

"Monsieur Neuvillette~" you moan, clutching the pillows, your hips bucking at the growing warmth in your belly, your hands seeking your own pleasure.

"Warmer than I thought," he whispers, "

it is almost like n your dreams... though this time it feels so real...

You look at him for the first time, his face sweaty, his cheeks flushed as his locks of white hair fall down your legs. His strong arms hugging you, his pecs rising and falling, holding breath... lower down, his chiseled abdomen twitching as his cock buries itself relentlessly inside you.

The sound of his balls against your skin blows your mind and makes you realize that it's not a dream, that Iudex Neuvillette is really fucking you (and very well, much better than you expected).

"Monsieur..." you try to sit up, but he has touched your cervix with his cock, and you do nothing but collapse under him, filled with the pleasure of his gentle thrusts.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks you reverently, in a tone of sublime courtesy and lofty superiority, as if he were not mercilessly fucking you at his whim while you sleep.

"Don't stop," you whimper between words, not wanting to waste the opportunity you've been dreaming of since the first time you saw him, "damn it," you exclaim at the wave of heat surging through your chest and legs as you hear him chuckle under his breath, quite pleased with what he's managing to make of your body.

The orgasm hits you warm and rough, just as Neuvillette did with his cock, careful not to leave his seed inside of you. And your breath comes back as you feel him caress your back as if to reward you.

You feel his lips on your forehead, and the way his arms hold you beside him as your eyelids droop at the inevitable.

"How did you get here?" you babble, half asleep, caressing his chest as he draws soft circles on your arm. 

"You invited me," he whispers as he brings your hand to his neck where your bracelet encircles his skin and the charm falls to his chest.

"You'll explain it properly tomorrow," you murmur between confused shuffles...

[slightly-knot-insane]

The Bringer of Rain

Monstertober 2024 - day 2 [ Local folklore ] by @ozzgin

[ m!zmaj* x fem!reader ]

*The closest translation for 'zmaj' would be 'dragon', and they are generally similar in many ways. However, Slavic zmaj has no connections to fire or gold like Western ones. Zmaj is connected to storms and rain, and they are quite fond of people. More info about them after the story.

You've been with him for days. Or was it weeks? You aren't really sure anymore. Days have melted into short moments of sleep, drowsy periods of wakefulness, and intense hours of sex and orgasms.

You are tired. Your body aches for rest and relaxation, but you can't get enough of him. You expect him every moment to come to your room, sneaking in through windows, underneath door gaps, through cracks in walls. He always takes human shape, and appears in front of you naked and hard.

"I had to see you," he says this every time he lays his radiating eyes on you. His arms are already all over you. He seems so desperate, so parched, as if he hasn't seen your for months. "I must have you again."

And he does - oh-so-hard. His stamina is incredible. He can pound your every hole for hours, holding his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. He's not supposed to be spending this much time with you. He is supposed to gather clouds and bring fertalizing rain to the fields and farms. But all his been doing was fertilizing your eggs.

He lifts your leg on his shoulder and kisses your knee before starting to roll his hips. Zmaj's cock is large and thick, heavily ribbed. His breaths are shallow, even and collected, while you are panting, almost gasping for air, inches away from another climax.

"Shh, be quiet, my dove." His voice is calm, but there is a hint of panic.

Loud banging on the door interrupts you. "We know he's here, that zmaj-whore!" Your uncle's voice is on verge of screaming. "Untangle yourself from him so that we can talk some senses to him."

"Shit!" Zmaj grabs you and presses you against his chest, sheltering you from something. A strange feeling washes over you and you're plummeted into darkness.

When you open your eyes, you are outside, somewhere far away from your home, but you can't see a lot since it's dark and the sky is sprinkled with stars. And all around you lays a massive presence.

"My love," zmaj whispers, and embraces you with his claws. "I hope I didn't scare you."

"Not at all. I'm so happy to see your true form." An impressive adult zmaj is glowing with a dim silver light, encircling you like a tight ouroboros.

"It was the only way to escape a nasty fight. And I needed my wings."

You shake your head. "I know. You are magnificent."

He chuckles. "I'm happy you think so. But I should return you to—"

You abruptly stand up and hold his snout. "Return me? Before saying a proper goodbye? I could never forgive you."

Zmaj blinks in confusion. "Oh. I'm sorry. Of course I would never just—"

How is this magical creature so incredible, yet so dumb. "I want you to fuck me with a proper zmaj cock, you dumb-dumb."

"Oooooooh." His long exhale was like a warm breeze and your hair billows. With a wink of his snake-like eye, he rolls over on his side. A long and pulsating silver cock is already hard for you, too heavy to stand upwards. "Come here, my sweet sparrow."

Your zmaj boyfriend is more than patient. His cooing and kisses helped you relax, and his thick tongue stretched your pussy out, and kept you moist. His saliva was warm and slick. Slowly, easily, with your permission, he slides his dick in. It is so big that it immediately inflates your stomach, and a faint glow lights your skin. He puts his hand around your waist to support you, and he lets you take his length in your own pace. He only growls and praises your bravery for wanting to try out his true form.

All you can do is moan and pant, barely coherent, as his ribbed phallus rubs against your walls. Your cunt has never been this full and this moist. "Fuck... yes... please... more..."

"You like this? You like my true form?" He shifts behind you and there is a feral change in his voice. You just whine and confirm in some pathetic way, before he takes charge and pushes his cock as far as it can go and growls, no longer verbal.

The sensation of his monstrous cock thrusting in and out, his loud breathing and smell of his sweat drive you crazy. You orgasm several times and so intensely that you eventually lose awareness and simply drown in pleasure.

When you open your eyes next time, waking up from a refreshing dream, the sun is rising. You are on your home's roof. But it wasn't the pink sky or uncomfortable ground that woke you up, but heavy drops of rain. You smile and pat your stomach swollen and heavy from zmaj's seed.

Zmaj monsters could, of course, be male or female, and they enjoyed taking human lovers. Sometimes, they would have sex with a new lover so much and often they would forget to bring rain. The angry villagers, whose crops were dying from drought, would then look for a human that looked the most ill and thin (since that would indicate they were exhausted from so much good zmaj sex). Then, the villagers would bang with pots around the lover's house to scare the zmaj back to work. Unfortunately for the poor zmaj's lover, zmaj would leave and they would never find another partner as good as zmaj was. Sometimes zmaj monsters and people would have children and they were called zmajevit. They were super strong and considered heroes (from Serbian mythology).

[utterlyotterlyx]

A Fate Inked In Starlight

Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel

Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.

Warnings - mentions of blood, Eris being gentle 🥺, memory loss, kinda arsehole Rhys?x

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Leaves of red and orange peered down at you inquisitively, and the earth was hard and slightly damp beneath you.

You hissed as you moved, a metallic sting coating the inside of your mouth. The world tilted, a dull thumping in your mind swelled behind your eyes and you pinched the bridge of your nose in attempt to centre yourself.

It hadn’t worked.

Looking about, you drank in where you had awoken, soil and an array of foliage welcomed your sight, dark bark held onto browning leaves, some of which floated around where you sat. Light birdsong and the faint chirp of crickets flittered around you with the occasional crunch of dry twigs that snapped under the weight of the mammals that trotted by, not heading much mind to you.

You were clad in some kind of black armour, a second skin that fit you perfectly as it curved around your breasts and hips, the material splitting open in the shape of lightening across your chest where yellow gems and light hummed. Jewelled metal talons were fitted to your fingertips, coated with dry blood that had worked itself into each crevasse it could. You were sure that whatever you looked like was not a pretty sight.

Something had kept you glued to your spot, swaying slightly from the brute force that had clearly been wrecked upon you. From what you had no idea.

From the distance, you heard the beating of hooves against the hard ground, growing louder with each passing moment before a brilliant white stag exploded into the clearing where you were. It was beautiful, those pools of emerald bore into you, there was terror laced behind them, and the stag readied his attack as he lowered his antlers toward you.

“I’m not going to harm you,” you told the creature with an extended hand, an extension of your surrender, “I promise.”

The stag surveyed you, noting the wild hair that had fallen from a once tightly strung braid, the blood that coated your neck and fingers, the bewilderment in your eyes. No, you certainly weren’t a threat.

“I’m not sure how I came to be here. I don’t know where I am,” you continued, as if the stag would be able to answer any of your questions.

The creature relaxed, taking a tentative step forward to sniff the outstretched talons fixed to your fingertips. He huffed and shook his head, one of his hooves tapping against the ground as another sound entered your earshot.

“Dogs,” you said softly, sadness laced in your rough voice that scratched at your throat. “Go. I’ll distract them,” you turned your hand, exposing your palm to him, he rested his snout in it gently, and only for a moment before he bounded away. Leaping over molehills whilst leaving you alone once more.

The barking drew closer and your breath caught in your throat at the obvious number of hounds that approached your position, perhaps mistaking your blood for that of the stags.

They hurtled into the clearing, the hedges and flowers parting for them as they surged through the air and landed in front of you, mouths pulled back and snarling teeth ready to tear you apart. You shuffled back as they circled you, snapping, slobber dripping from their canines causing your heart rate to beat in your ears. Hitting the trunk of a tree, you sighed, realising there were no weapons attached to the leather holsters at your thighs made your current predicament a lot more complicated.

You wouldn’t dream of harming an animal, at least, you thought so.

A flutter of your heart gave way to gentle excitement when you had seen the stag, and even the dogs despite them wanting to turn you into a meal.

A sharp whistle tore their attention from you, pulling them back to the source as he too entered the clearing. His head was tilted to the side and he examined you with a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, assessing if you were a threat or not. Red hair and amber eyes found you, and he approached, splitting his gaze between you and your laboured breathing to the scene around you both.

“Who are you?” His voice was rough but held a stoic calm, the deepness of his words made your hairs stand on edge.

A simple question. Your name. You opened your mouth but nothing came out, you stuttered, eyes wide as nothing came to mind, “I, I don’t know.”

You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Wide doe eyes staring at him in bewilderment, he knew your skin would be soft despite the mud and blood coating your surface. The sharp jaw and hallowed cheeks, full pouted lips and an elegantly pointed nose. Too beautiful for a human or fae.

The confusion etched into every inch of your features made the man relax a little, he knelt before you, his dogs happy with wagging tails brushing against his side, “Do you know where you came from?” By the looks of your armour, the blood coated talons, and the cuts dug into the side of your neck, it was clear to him that you weren’t from Prythian. You looked too advanced for his world.

You shook your head, muttering a faint and weak answer to him.

He hummed, reaching to tuck a strand of your dirty matted hair behind your pointed ear. Fae, he noted. Smiling when you didn’t flinch under his touch, he offered a hand to you, it was calloused and rough, but his pressure was gentle and guiding as he helped you from the ground.

“I’m Eris Vanserra, and you’re in the Autumn Court,” he looked down at you through thick lashes and offered a warm smile.

“Eris,” his name fell from your lips and he nodded in encouragement as you familiarised yourself with the sound of it. Yes, you definitely weren’t from his world, if you were, you’d surely cower from his name and the mention of where you were.

A pressure consumed your feet, and you found one of his hounds sat on them, staring up at you with its panting tongue flopping against the side of its jaw, its tail rustling the leaves beneath it as it wagged happily, “That’s enough, Duke,” Eris scolded the hound, rubbing between his ears in a bid to get him to move, “I’m sorry about him.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind,” you smiled, and he noticed the warmth in your eyes, the molten gold and ocean blue that could have him entranced if he wasn’t careful. “I’m sorry about this,” you motioned the air, the current situation you found yourselves in, “I wish I knew what to say.”

“It’s fine,” he frowned slightly as he peered at the still open flesh on your neck that leaked with every heartbeat, “Let me help you with that.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

Eris smirked, “You’re not asking,” he shrugged as he heading back in the direction from whence he came, adjusting his brown jacket which lay over a cream open collared shirt. You weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it before, the well fit pants and shirt, the adornment of fine rings across his digits. Eris Vanserra was clearly someone of high standing, and you felt stupid for not knowing. The disappointment felt foreign to you.

The male looked back at you expectantly, his well kept fiery red hair tousling over his forehead, freckles visible as the sunlight hit his face. “Thank you,” you followed his steps, Duke trotting alongside you like a personal guard.

Once you had made it back to Fir Manor, Eris’ private residence that was home to him and his hounds alone, he insisted that you bathe, that it would be easier for the healer to assess the damage if she could tell what was or wasn’t your own blood.

You didn’t need telling twice, you thanked Eris for the spare clothes, a sheer deep red dress, before you slipped into the bathroom and peeled off your second skin, paying no mind to the marks that littered your forearms and torso, the marks that covered every inch of your body.

It seemed silly. To be so trusting of someone you’d just met. But something told you that Eris wasn’t a threat to you. Something had allowed you to feel safe with him.

You sighed as the hot water worked to relax your muscles, the rest of the world fading away into blissful nothingness.

Rhys was happy.

Finally happy.

A mate and a babe. A family. No danger for the first time in what felt like a millennia.

Rhys watched them, watched his Nyx swaddled into Feyre’s chest as she painted, humming some lullaby to the dozing babe. Light poured into the room from the domed glass and he let a content sigh pass through his lips from where he leaned against the doorframe. Relishing in the sight for a moment longer before retreating back to his office and closing the door with a soft click.

He wasn’t sure where the rest of them were, Mor would be returning from the human lands soon, Cassian and Azriel were surely training, Nesta was probably nose deep in another book in the library with Amren at her side, and Elain was tucked away with Lucien somewhere revelling in their newly accepted mating bond.

Everything was as it should be.

The papers on his desk were too chaotic for anyone else to understand but him, he knew where each treaty lay in the stack, where each letter from a concerned citizen sat, when Az’s countless reports waited for his eye.

Though, one thing caught his eye that definitely hadn’t been there before he’d gone to check on his mate and child. A folded up rip of parchment, singed at the edges with an aroma of wet grass gripping to it.

It reeked of Autumn, of Eris.

Rhys wasn’t worried that the heir had contacted him. They were planning for a better Autumn once Beron handed over his title, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to hear from the eldest Vanserra at all. Scanning the parchment, Rhys felt his interest grow in the words, the vague message that beckoned him to Fir Manor, telling him that someone had dropped into the forest who Rhys may be interested in meeting.

So, the High Lord of the Night Court stalked through the halls, parchment in hand as the clash of swords and jostling laughter flooded his senses. Then he saw them, his two brothers in their training leathers, wide smiles and bruises that would fade within the hour as they jabbed another with playful words.

“Ah, did you call on Rhys to come and save you, Az? How desperate,” Cassian glimmered, his wings rustling and body keeping guard against Azriel’s oncoming attack.

Rhys stepped between them, holding the parchment in the air between his fingers with a smirk on his lips as Azriel to it from him, scanning the words, “With no memory of where she came from?” Azriel questioned, his shadows curling over his shoulders as though they wished to see what held their masters attention whilst he handed the written words to Cassian who pouted about being left out.

“Do you remember the visitor we had not too long ago?”

Azriel smirked at the memory of the redhead scouring through the caves of Prythian, “Bryce?”

“Yes, Bryce.” Rhys sent a glare to Cassian, no doubt still unhappy at his mates willingness to aid the girl, “She too fell into our world out of nowhere, didn’t she?”

Cassian stopped the thought before it could be shared, “Yes, but Bryce knew who she was and why she came here. It seems this woman doesn’t share that similarity,” he turned the paper over in his hand, like some newfound information was going to be inscribed elsewhere.

From the brief information that Eris had sent to Rhys, the woman who had fell into the Autumn had no idea who she was or where she was let alone how she found herself bleeding in a different world from her own.

“Regardless,” Rhys’ eyes glowed at the hidden message Cassian had tried to convey, that maybe this woman had nothing to do with Bryce and whatever war she was fighting on her shores. Though Cassian did have to admit that it was a coincidence that another soul had floated through into their world. “It needs to be investigated. Azriel, you’ll come with me. Cassian, you’ll stay here.”

The pair knew better than to convince Rhys otherwise, Azriel especially knew better than to refuse and potentially put his home and people in danger.

Another invader had dove into his world, his home, and he’d be damned by the Mother if he let another one trick him again.

Authors Note

Hi my loves!

It’s been a while. I know I’m usually a Bridgerton girly but I’m kinda obsessed with everything SJM right now.

So, here we are. My first Maasverse fic 🤷‍♀️

I am wanting to write a series on this so let me know what you think! I’ve been out of the game for a bit 🤍

[marlynnofmany]

Arboreal Species

We had plenty of options for ways to keep occupied while waiting for the client to show up and collect his delivery. Several of the crew were playing card games with the captain, using a delivery crate as a table, and she was beating the pants off all of them. (Though none of these particular aliens wore pants. You know what I mean.) Some of the others waited inside the ship, declaring boredom with this particular patch of exotic wilderness.

The rest chatted with crew from the ship that had arrived after us, which was also delivering cargo for the same late-to-arrive local. They had plenty to complain about. They also had food to share, and a decent chance that it would be edible by those they shared it with.

While Alien Food Roulette was always exciting, I’d found a much better option.

“Hey, they tell me your species climbs things,” the stranger from the other ship had said, long snout curling into a smile. She looked like a mix of 3/4 baboon and 1/4 crocodile.

“They’re right!” I replied easily. There weren’t many climbing opportunities on our little courier ship, and I was curious where this was going.

The alien pointed at a huge tree on the edge of the landing pad, which boasted smooth orange bark with branches every couple feet. “I’m gonna go climb that. Care to join me?”

“Would I ever!” I said, already heading toward it. I called back over my shoulder, “If you guys need me, I’ll be up a tree!”

Captain Sunlight didn’t even look away from the game, just waving distractedly, her scaly face intent on whatever play Mur had just made. He was chuckling about it and rubbing his tentacles together in a way that was probably a bluff. As soon as I looked away, he made a noise that said the good captain had just wrecked his clever plan. Trrili hissed with laughter.

None of them cared that I was about to climb to a dangerous height. None thought this was out of character in the slightest, and all of them were missing out on an excellent climbing experience.

It was a great tree. The bark was smooth but not slippery, reminding me of a madrone tree from back home, just without the flaky outer layer. And it didn’t feel as cold. If anything, it was warm as we scampered skyward, almost as if the tree welcomed a good climb by people who’d appreciate it.

The alien stopped, picking a branch to sit on and leaning back against another. “Now that is a nice view.”

I had to agree. “It is!” I found my own convenient pair of branches, draping my arms over the top one and finding a nice footrest on a third. “Everybody down there doesn’t know what they’re missing.” The forest around the landing pad was bright with oranges and yellows, the kind of vivid colors that I associated with autumn, but which could have been year-round here. Rolling hills lined the horizon, with a river sparkling merrily in the distance. The only straight line was the road. It made a nice counterpoint to all the gentler natural shapes.

My new friend cupped a hand to her snout unnecessarily. “Hey, everybody down there! You should come see this view!”

To no one’s surprise, she got a chorus of “no thanks.”

I shook my head. “Such a shame. They’re missing out on all the knowledge that comes from above, too. Hey, Paint!” I yelled down to the crewmate who had just dropped a box of round things. “One rolled under the ramp, and two are over in the grass!” I pointed them out.

A distant “Thank you!” reached my ears.

The alien nodded. “Wisdom of the heights indeed. What else can we see, that those on the ground can’t?”

We spent a good few minutes pointing things out to each other and swapping stories. Apparently her people were called the Farsights, for exactly this reason.

“Oh, motion on the road!” she declared, squinting into the distance. “Looks like somebody’s in a rush to be a little less late.”

“Well that ship has launched,” I said, following her eyes. “Nice thought, though. Say, is that one car or two?”

The Farsight didn’t answer immediately, which made me worry a little. Then she said “Uh oh,” which made me worry a lot.

“Uh oh what?”

She stood up on the branch and bellowed, “INCOMING! Client’s being chased by hostile fauna!”

“Oh jeez.” Now I could see it too: something large and antlered galloping after the little surface skimmer. Both were headed straight toward our landing pad.

Chaos erupted down below as we slid off our perches and scrambled downward. The bark was still friendly-smooth.

“I think that creature eats these!” my friend said, bounding out toward the end of a branch to shake loose a bundle of round seedpod things. “I’ve seen them before!”

“Will that matter?” I asked, slowing. “It looks pretty mad!”

“Can’t hurt!”

I couldn’t argue that. There were more than a few seedpods waiting on my path down, all of which came loose with a little judicious bouncing of the branches. When I hit the ground, it was in a sea of baseball-shaped plant bits.

The rest of the crew was scrambling to move crates and dash into the ships for anything weaponlike. A handful of beefy individuals from the other crew lined up to stare the thing down as it approached, and my ship’s biggest and scariest hurried to join them. Trrili claimed a place in front with her black-and-red carapace gleaming in the sun, pincher arms spread wide. She left space for the skimmer to zip past, but only just.

I grabbed seedpods, making a basket with my shirt. “Will we need these? Is it going to stop?”

“Beats me!” said my new friend. She grabbed an armload and ran. “Let’s find out!”

I raced after. We joined the lineup just before the gigantic whatever-it-was skidded to a halt, rearing to paw the air and roar thunderously. The guy in the skimmer was trying to park behind our ship. The various scary aliens yelled back at the huge moose-rhino.

“How well can you throw?” asked my friend, not waiting for an answer. She dumped her armload and started chucking seedpods.

“Pretty well!” I didn’t bother dropping mine, just grabbing them one by one from my shirt basket and aiming for the head.

I didn’t count how many of those direct shots were me, but I’m going to say most of them. The pods burst into squishy fruit with a solid core, doing a great job of annoying the creature as well as coating it with presumably-tasty purple goo.

Its forefeet hit the ground with a teeth-rattling thud. It roared some more, but half-heartedly, like it was just trying to save face at this point.

My friend the Farsight had run out of seedpods, so I gave her some of mine. While our crewmates did their best threat displays, we pelted the dangerous beastie with fruit until it turned to lope in the other direction. I made sure to throw a few on the road near it, in case it felt like picking up a bite to eat on the way. It didn’t, but I did see a tongue lick out as it turned its back on us.

Belatedly, Kavlae and Eggskin skidded out of our ship with stun guns at the same time as a couple people from the other — was that a rocket launcher or a flare gun? — none of which turned out to be necessary.

“Take that and eat it!” crowed the Farsight.

“Yeah!” I agreed. “It’s probably delicious!”

“It probably is, actually,” she said as the congratulations started to pour in.

I picked up a seedpod I’d dropped and sniffed it. “Smells a bit like kumquat.”

Captain Sunlight, busy trying to coax the client out of his vehicle, yelled across the landing pad, “Don’t eat that until Eggskin runs it through the medscanner!”

“Aw, really?” I complained, perfectly in synch with my new friend.

“Yes really!” She shook her lizardy head. I couldn’t make out her muttering from here, but I could guess it was about omnivorous habits, self-preservation instincts, absurd treeclimbing species, or all of the above.

The Farsight said, “If these are safe, I’m taking some back with me.”

“Even if they’re not, the seeds would make good souvenirs,” I pointed out, pulling at the pod where it had separated. “Look how perfectly round they are.”

“Oh yeah, those are nice.”

Trrili stalked past with a haughty tilt to her antennae. “You two get along far too well.”

“Like two seeds in a pod!” the Farsight quipped.

That made me smile. “Hey, my people say that too!”

We had plenty to talk about while everybody else handled the actual delivery we were there for. Eventually Eggskin did check the thing with a medscanner. It tasted like sour kumquat. The seeds cleaned up nicely.

And most importantly, my new friend had family with a whole enclave at the next space station my ship was planning to visit. And they had a climbing structure three stories high. I couldn’t wait.

The rest of the crew thought that sounded pointless and dangerous, of course, but none of them had ancestors who danced through the tree branches, so clearly they have no taste.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[idkfitememate]

hear me out!! diluc comes home in the middle of the day and witnesses the current biggest nuisance of his life, the boar!creator, being pampered by adelinde and the other housemaids. his maids might even be dressing the boar up or putting on accessories. it’s most likely a terrifying yet simultaneously confusing sight—the menace of mondstat sitting there, seeming so calm and docile in his home. regardless of his negative attitude, i’m sure somewhere deep deep down he’ll find it adorable (not that he’d ever admit it). to be fair, it is a surprisingly nice change of pace compared to the usual destruction that follows the boar, especially the destruction targeted at him and his property.

Spa Day!

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : Boar vs. Diluc ft. His staff!!

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 842

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff & Crack

Diluc was so close to actually snapping.

All he wanted was a nice, calm day. After dealing with Venti and kaeya and all the other wonderful drunks of Mondstadt, he was more than prepared to come home and relax. Take off his work clothes, talk a nice walk through his vineyard, take a nice long hot bath, have a nice dinner, anything.

And yet, here he stood, staring at all his maids as they pampered one of his largest headaches.

The Boar.

You were wearing a vest - was it his??? - and getting pat and rubbed and being fed grapes - his grapes?????? - and honestly you were living the dream he wanted.

All Diluc could do was stand in shock as he watched you get the pampering he felt he was entitled to.

“Quite the sight, isn’t it Master Diluc? Diluc grunted in response to Elzer’s teasing. He huffed, turning his heel and walking upstairs to his bedroom.

The silence was comforting, even with the knowledge that the Boar was being pampered downstairs. Gently his suit coat was hung up and shoes lethargically slipped off. He sat on his bed and let out a long sigh, pressing his hands to his face. Diluc looked out the window to the moon and simply stared out into the night sky.

The door to his room cracked open, and there you stood, tall and prideful with a… tray on your back? You trotted up, dressed to the nines, fur all slicked and shined - though the paints in your fur still shined through - with a platter of grapes and grape juice. You seemed so proud as you stopped beside him and preformed a faux little bow to him.

Diluc stared incredulously at you, eyes wide and mouth gaped. He didn’t move, not even to take a single grape. You shuffled a bit closer, even bumped into his leg a couple times.

Diluc only continued to stare.

Finally you oinked at the man, practically slamming the platter into Diluc’s crotch. Diluc yelped and fell back onto his bed, hissing in pain as you backed up with a small smirk. That smirk quickly dropped however when Diluc curled up on his bed with hands around his… well y’know.

You crept closer to the bed and placed your snout on the sheets, trying to see the damage, only to be swatted away by a silently shaking Diluc. It didn’t take anymore than that for you to huff and scamper off, leaving the red head to suffer in silence.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍫🥮୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

When Diluc came down for dinner, all the maids - and Elzer - are all standing around a part of the table, shielding it from his sights. A maid seats Diluc and he watches for a minute as no one moves for dinner, only continuing to shuffle around the opposite end of the table.

“… Would anyone mind including me on whatever is so funny?” His tone was genuine. He was tired from his long day and was truly just looking for any kind of sympathy.

“Well, Master Diluc, our darling little friend-“ Diluc groaned “-left you a present. One we’re… actually not to sure how it got here but still hope you appreciate.” With a sweep of his hand, Elzer and the group of maids moved aside, and revealed a crumbling boar-shaped-cake with the words “i’s sorrrrsys” hastily and sloppily scrawled on the surface in icing.

“By the time we found it the Boar was long gone, front door broken open. But it is grape flavor!.. Amazingly…” Adelinde spoke up, walking to the kitchen to retrieve the man of the hours dinner.

While the rest of the maids went off to busy themselves, Elzer walked behind the chair Diluc was sat in and leaned down.

“I don’t know what exactly went on up there, but i do think they were sorry. I don’t doubt they’ll be back at their own tricks again, but never forget how your grapes grow so much sweeter after they’ve ravaged the fields. I don’t much think that was a coincidence.” With a small pat on the back, the old Butler stood and walked off.

In that time Adelinde had come back with the meal and sat it down before the man, whispering some ‘have a nice meal’ before walking off to busy herself in the meantime. Diluc only stared at his food before his eyes traveled up to stare at the slowly melting cake. The eyes of the misshapen boar stared back.

‘The grapes always grew back stronger after their shenanigans…’

Diluc cut himself a slice of cake, completely ignoring his dinner. Silently he cut a slice and brought it to his lips, hesitating, before placing it onto his tongue. The cake was moist, nearly melting in hushed mouth. The taste was sweet, but not bitter like a grape might be with a small aftertaste, like the purest grapes in the world had been used, skin nowhere to be found and juicy beyond compare.

Diluc, if just for a moment, smiled.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I’m so tired hehe anyway Boar in their non-toxic era what’s going on-

[lyraa-kill]

Johnny is out late one night, heading back to his apartment, when he finds a black husky with a white face eerily shaped like a skull digging through the trash in an alley way. He gently approaches the dog, keeping his movements slow and calm. Holds his hand out for the dog to sniff. When the dog approaches, he gently pets it and tries his best to show that he’s not a danger. He quickly gains the trust of the dog, and takes him back to his apartment.

He bathes the dog, feeds it, cuddles it, lets it sleep in his bed with him. Takes it out for walks three times a day and always stops to get a treat for it at the cafe near his house. He decides to name the little guy Simon, after a character from a show he watched as a kid.

Life is peaceful and Johnny is happily falling into being a dog owner. One night, he falls asleep with Simon curled up in his arms, the dog’s snout mere inches from his face. In the night, the dog transforms.

Turns out the “dog” is actually a terrifying, extremely powerful eldritch god who was booted out of his domain and was forced to remain as a dog until he gained back his strength. And since Johnny had been taking such good care of him, he was finally able to resume his true form.

Only, now Simon is completely smitten with Johnny and would do anything in his power for him, anything at all.

Johnny sure has a surprise to wake up to.

[dark-and-kawaii]

You can ignore this if it’s not up to code for your blog but what about some Halsin in bear form smut. We all know he can’t always control it and he should be love no matter the shape

Summary: Halsin eats you like his personal honey pot.

Pairing: Halsin x F!Tav/Reader

Content: NSFW - Bear Halsin - Bear Halsin Eats You Out - Normal Halsin Makes An Appearance

Notes: So we are doing this huh? We are breaking this wall and writing for bear Halsin… Let’s do it anon. If I can write about ascended Raphael I can do this! Let’s go!

You let out a surprised gasp and dropped to the floor, your legs giving out from under you as Halsin buries his snout in your pussy. His long rough tongue sliding over your entrance, his bear snout wet against your sensitive clit, his hot breath fanning over your skin.

Halsin had always tried to control himself, always tried to withhold his desires, to keep his bear shape hidden away fearing how you would react… Which you won’t lie, it did frighten you due to just how large his bear shape was- and what if he lost control? But now, the way he's feasting on you, like you’re his personal honeycomb, you don’t mind. You know he will never harm you, how soft he was being, how careful his teeth were as they dragged along your skin. He was gentle and caring, and so far from being frightening like this.

Your hand finds the top of his fuzzy head, fingers carding through his fur, “Please, don't stop, Halsin-“ Your words were cut off by another gasp, your hips grinding into his face as his tongue entered you. You had no doubt that Halsin could taste how excited you were. His tongue was rough and long, filling you and moving within you, dragging across your walls. Wriggling and twisting within you, hitting spots that made you cry out and your legs shake. Silvanus, it was like you were a honey pot and he was lapping up all the nectar you had to offer.

You were a squirming, shaking mess as Halsin ate you out. He was merciless, his tongue working you and his claws digging into your thighs, holding you in place as you bucked against him.

Halsin let out a growl as your fingers found the tip of his ears, gently tugging on them, “H-Halsin- I-I-“ Your whole body felt like a string pulled taut, ready to snap at any second, “I- s’need- Oh, gods! M’Halsin, I-I- AHH!!~” Your back arches, your hands gripping his ears as he pushes his tongue in as far as it will go, and the coil snaps.

You let out a wail, your orgasm washing over you, the waves crashing over your body as you squirt over Halsin's tongue and snout. He lets out a pleased growl, his tongue slowly moving, letting you ride out your orgasm as he laps up the sweet juices that had spilled from you. You are a panting, shaking mess as Halsin pulls his tongue from you, you shiver and whimper as his tongue runs over your folds one last time, licking his chops as he looks up at you… A golden light covering his bear shape as he returns to his elven form.

You reach out, cupping his cheek, and pull him in for a kiss, the taste of your own juices on his lips, you can feel him smile against your lips. Halsin pulls away and looks down at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face, a blush crossing his features, “Are you alright, my heart?” Halsin's voice was full of concern, his thick fingers finding the claw marks he had left behind, running his finger tips over them, making you moan slightly, thanking Oak Father he didn’t break skin, “I fear I lost control for a moment, and did not intend to harm you- I apologize if I frightened you-“

You shake your head and reach out to grab his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm, “I'm okay, I'm perfect,” you whisper, “I- I was scared at first, but once I realized that I knew you would never hurt me, that you would stop if I told you to, it made it- made it exciting- It was exhilarating, and you, gods- how fortunate am I to have such a man between my legs.”

Halsin lets out a soft laugh, pressing a kiss to your lips, a gentle smile gracing his features, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks, his fingers stroking the back of your neck, “The fortune is all mine,” he whispers, his nose brushing against yours.

[val-cansalute]

𝙱𝙴𝚈𝙾𝙽𝙳 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝟶𝟹

summary: ellie and dina finally get to talk, you see her again at julia’s party

warnings: mentions of drug abuse and mental health issues, some description of injury, ellies jealous again, angst with comfort in later chapters

a/n: there’s a lana reference hidden in here if you can find it. this took so incredibly fucking long and i don’t even have an excuse (other than that this one is really long), i’m just really lazy 😬, see you next year. i hate this, not even fucking around, it feels so rushed even tho it took a month and a half to post 😶‍🌫️ it’s so long and barely any of it is about the two of them together but I SWEAR it’s so necessary for the next chapter cuz they’re literally gonna be together for the entirety of it… DONT STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE

tag list: @diddiqueen, @amberputh, @fatbootymuncher (dude.), @sapphointhe21stcenturyposts, @jadelovesyou00, @ravyaryn.

series masterlist

Ellie is back in that room.

She never left.

Fluorescent lights overhead are blurred by an influx of tears as she sits by the hospital bed, scratching at and clinging to his cold and still body, sobbing like a bedlamite with blood drenching her clothes fresh carmine.

It was pouring out of him like it was desperate to escape and would not stop no matter how desperately she tried to bar the floodgate, seal the supermassive black hole with blockade of her pitiable palms.

She's felt this fear before, this helplessness, over and over. That pain is familiar.

And that glaring screech never quiets, always tormenting her, getting louder and louder as she watches Joel slip away, kicking, begging and screaming. She feels like one of those motes of dust that hover in mid-air with no limbs, no sway. It gets so loud, waves crashing against the walls of her skull like a tsunami, flushing her brain out of the night terror and jolting her heaving body upright.

She clutches her chest, grappling at the reddened skin, feeling that pain as raw and real as the day she had actually been in that fucking hospital. With a heavy head and a body scrawled with beads of sweat, she stumbles to her feet and strains to focus her mind on getting away, anywhere else, in spite of the crushing throb of blood rushing through her.

She cannot fill her lungs, each sharp and desperate intake of air feeling like gritty sand scratching her throat, and she needs to get out right now or else… or else- fuck!

She doesn’t know! But she can feel it, and it's bad- real bad. She can feel it deep in the knotted-up pit of her stomach, and it’s making her retch from nausea.

Her vision’s already blurring and the rest of the world melts away into a distorted sway of formless shapes and colors, overwhelmed by a pounding sense of terror. Holy shit, she can’t feel her face. She can’t feel her face. She needs to get out. Why are her legs suddenly so weak? She’s telling them to move but they won’t. Get out of here. She need to get to the door to outside. Fresh air. Right now.

Before she knows it, she’s stumbling out the wooden door and slumping onto the cold wooden planks of the veranda, hit with a wave of cool night air, prickling her clammy skin with goosebumps. She squeezes her eyes shut tight and never loosens the hold she has on her thumping chest, all focus placed on calming its assault, and then she feels it.

The gentle nudge of a wet snout against her hand, pulling her out of her mind. Ellie’s eyes meet the culprit sat beside her with his tongue hanging out as he pants excitedly.

She buries her hands in his matted fur. The sensation of it running through her fingers is like an anchor. It was one of the techniques they taught her at rehab, and she wheezed out a tired laugh in pride at her studiousness. Like a tidal wave, the panic ebbed, receding into the expanse of water beyond.

The scruffy shepherd dog nudged his head into her leg this time and Ellie groaned in disgust, still whispering a strained and quiet,

“Thank you, buddy.”

Head up to the sky, she counts each star her eye can capture to bring herself down, each constellation so much clearer back here than in the city, so much brighter now. Even the night air is a little crisper, filling her to the brim in a deep, stuttered sigh. As she sits there, her phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out, halting when she reads the sender’s name.

Ellie stares at the screen for a while, keeping her fingers deep within the tufts of fur beside her but her frayed nerves don't spark. She shoves the phone into the front pocket of her hoodie, not bothering to type out a response. Dina knows she’s seen it.

When she finally retreats to that haunted bedroom, she doesn’t bother trying to sleep. Those motes and flecks of decayed memories still linger in your and Ellie’s old apartment days after her eventual return from the godforsaken motel. Every couple of minutes she lifts a stiff arm out to let them flutter between her calloused fingers, glowing in the honeyed light of her bedside lamp.

Sometimes, the fact that your shift ends at 4,

“This is absolutely unacceptable!”

brings you an unimaginable flurry of joy,

“And I won’t be coming here again!”

because dealing with this for an entire day would probably make you catatonic.

You do your best to keep your facial muscles flexed into an expression that comes across as even mildly concerned, because you couldn’t give a fuck less if you tried, and now you’re just counting down the seconds till this boomer asshole turns around and leaves.

God, why is he still standing here?

Eventually, he walks out with all the cadence of a nine year old, and Nathan is patting your shoulder all reassuringly as he laughs at his own joke which you completely tuned out, and now you have to force yet another fake-laugh, and holy shit, this is the worst.

You spend the rest of your shift sort-of hovering around the espresso machines, pretending to be present. When the digits on your phone hit 16:00, you huff as you undo the finicky knot at the back of your apron and hurl it onto the counter before hurrying out.

You’d deal with the mildly irritating consequences of that dramatic exit tomorrow. For now, you just needed to get home and get into bed ASAP.

The front door slams shut, shaking the walls. You’re bounding up the stairs to your bedroom, flinging the door open when you get to it, before stopping in your frenetic movements at the sight of Alexis perched on the edge of your bed, scrolling on her phone.

You forgot she didn’t work on a Saturday.

You open your mouth to speak and, before the sound escapes your windpipe, she’s enveloping you in comfort, throwing her arms around you in an attempt to rid your face of that glum countenance.

Quickly, you clamber to cling onto her too, eyes wide as they flicker around the room from over her shoulder.

But… this feels stiff – claustrophobic. Too hot, too constrictive.

Like a giant wall enclosing you, moving in closer and closer. All she's doing is making an empty room smaller.

And maybe it’s just a bad reaction because you've had a bad day, but tears are pooling in your eyes rapidly as that dull ache that accompanies your perpetual loneliness suddenly grows louder and louder.

Constantly in the back of your mind, since your family turned their backs on you, with a friend group so small that you can still barely hold onto, with Dina so close but never close enough to trust completely, and the day the love of your life left you alone.

Just can’t ignore the feeling that there’s something so intrinsically different and disagreeable about you that you’ll never beat that isolation.

Endless love to give without an outlet.

You squeeze your eyes shut over tears you refuse to cry anymore.

You never intended for this thing with Alexis to get too far. You know nothing’s going to come of it. That’s just the way it’s been since Ellie.

Ellie’s foot’s got groove, tapping against the spongy grass surrounding the park bench with a ferocity transcendent to that of Ellie’s body.

She hasn’t been to this park in a while. Almost two years, to be exact.

Fuck, she thinks she might vomit.

She can’t stop whipping her head around the place erratically, trying to evaluate the people strolling aimlessly along the path. She thinks she must look suspicious as fuck. She’s probably drawing even more attention to herself, craning her neck like that. That thought stills her.

With her hood up and the drawstrings keeping the thick fabric taut to her freckled skin, she’s desperately trying to avoid recognition. She doesn’t think she can handle conversation with a friend, let alone a jittery fan. Also, she isn’t often vain, but she’d rather not be caught looking like shit.

Especially not after all the things people said about her online during her recuperation at rehab.

“Boo.”

Ellie yelps indignantly, lunging her body away from the source of the mutter behind her. When she turns around, she’s face to face with Dina’s head thrown back into a laugh, something she hasn’t come face to face with in an ashamedly long time.

To be frank, Ellie was not prepared for anything short of quiet resentment and awkward stretches of silence between the two of them, as was Dina.

However, Dina doesn’t think she can handle that. In fact, she doesn’t think either of them can handle that.

She doesn’t think she can handle hearing Ellie’s hushed voice and seeing that coy smile after so long of being worried sick about her, while keeping the well-guarded distance they’ve built over the past months.

Ellie has suffered a lot, Dina knows that too well. And she’s going to suffer more, going to get enough of that dreaded brooding silence from others (you). So, Dina decides to lighten the weight.

Ellie huffs out a sigh, face shifting into a small hesitant smile as she gauges the strange unfolding of this whole situation, before looking away and muttering,

“What the fuck, D? You scared the shit outta me.”

Because she was ready for something different, yes, but if this is what she’s going to get, she’ll take as much of it as she can. God, she craves normalcy more than those drugs she had to go to rehab for.

But then Dina takes a seat beside her, and the wind is knocked out of Ellie, suddenly so close to everything she left behind, amalgamated in the form of the woman who was, at some point in time, one of her best friends. She takes in a sharp breath of air, looks down at her hands, and feels awful.

“I… I’m sorry for… you know, showing up out of nowhere, but I-“

She takes a deep breath and looks up, cleverly utilizing gravity to discreetly send tears back down. While she takes a moment to gather her words, she appreciates the thin, cotton whirls, curving into the azure sky, and blinks.

Ellie didn’t used to cry. She thought, for the longest time, that something was wrong with her. And something was. She's been through a lot. She drifted through life like a ghost, pushing it down and down, and further down. But a few months ago, it was like the dam burst, and now tears are ready to flow no matter when or where.

It’s getting slightly inconvenient.

“I couldn’t bring myself to text you… a- after so long. I jus-“

Dina holds a hand up, and shakes her head,

“You’re good,”

before a heavy silence blankets the park bench again.

Further up, a little kid runs across the field and trips over air and eats shit on the ground. Ellie presses her lips together. Dina presses her lips together. They both look away.

“How… How have you been?”

“…Good. Different, but good. A lot’s changed around here since you…”

Ellie winces, eyebrows knitting into grievance as the words land heavy on her mind. She knew it was coming, Dina has every right to feel what she feels but, holy shit, it still cuts through her like a blade. Ellie can’t bring herself to look at her as she stutters through another apology, her voice cracking through her scramble for the right words,

"Dina, I’m… I’m so sorry. I should never have just… left like that. I didn’t mean for it to-"

"Ellie," her voice is firm,

"you don’t have to explain yourself. What happened… yes, it hurt really fucking bad at the time, but you weren’t well... You’ve been through a lot... too much, and I’m sure you’re gonna have more than enough shit on your plate here too, but I forgave you a long time ago."

Ellie’s words catch in her throat. There is so much to say, and no way to say it, but the look on Dina’s face makes her feel comfortable just leaving it behind. It’s so difficult to muster the energy to speak, and there are no easy answers or simple explanations. They both know that.

"Anyway, enough about me. How’ve you been?"

“I… I’ve been doing a lot better – emotionally. Rehab was good. It… helped me a lot. But… I don’t know. Leaving LA was a given, it’s just… I don’t think I can face a lot of the people here. I want to try, I want to make things right, I wanna be better, but the people… they just… look at me like they hate me…

I don’t know if coming back here was the right thing to do…”

Dina stays quiet for a moment. Her heart is full, and her waterlines are flooding for the first time since she sat down.

“Fuck ‘em all. They don’t know a thing, Els. They don’t even know you.”

Her voice is small and her eyes are wide; she watches the ripple of movement through the trees lining the sidewalk at the other side of the park as wind rushes by them, before turning to Ellie with a small smile tugging at her lips and continuing, louder,

"You know, there’s a small party tonight at Julia’s place. You should come. I think it’d be good for you to get out for once, ya hobbit."

Ellie looks up at Dina from the absolutely captivating spot she’s been scratching and staring at on her jeans for the past few minutes, expression like a deer caught in headlights,

"I don’t know… There’ll be too many people there, and… you know."

Dina nods.

"I do. But it’ll be a small thing - just some friends, hanging out, talking. No pressure. You’re gonna have to face those people eventually. It’s a small town. But, who knows, you might even enjoy yourself."

Ellie tugs her bottom lip into her mouth, mulling over the suggestion.

There are a lot of reasons why she should turn in down, a lot of people she doesn’t want to run into, pushing her to retreat to her casket-like abode. And then there’s the nagging question she finds herself wanting to ask again. Will she be there? But she already knows the answer to that, and she wasn’t lying when she said she wants to make things right.

"Okay," Ellie rubs her neck, "I’ll see if I can make it."

She figures that’s a start.

Dina closes the door gently in her wake, her outward listlessness a screen concealing the frantic liveliness of her mind as she plays through her conversation with Ellie.

She hovers to the living room and tosses her cap onto the table, letting her loud hair breathe. She runs a tired hand through the loose knots intertwining its dark curls and leans against the back of the couch, where she finds you and Lexi embracing each other.

Or, Alexis is embracing you at least. Dina thinks the way you’re positioned on the couch sort of resembles an archaic painting, with her clinging onto your waist and you stretching away from her grasp. Anyway, Alexis is snoring softly, and you're lying awake, arms crossed behind your head, as you stare up at Dina, giving her a tight-lipped smile.

When Dina walked in, her head was bursting with morsels of things she needed to tell you immediately, but they fade to static in her mind with Lexi’s presence, especially after she stirs awake and rubs the sleep from her eyes.

Dina isn’t fond of Alexis, in case it wasn’t already obvious.

After an awkward exchange of reserved ‘hey’s, she movesto the kitchen to heat up some food in pensive silence, watching it rotate in the yellow, whirring glow of the microwave.

Eventually, the outsider takes her leave, and Dina flumps onto the couch beside your now sat-up form, holding two plates of food and handing you the one in her right.

“Here. Because I know for a fact your dumb ass has not eaten.”

You snicker as you scarf down a particularly large spoonful.

“Yeah, I was being held down, dude.”

She watches you in awe and bursts into laughter at the sight of you absolutely wolfing down your pasta.

“Damn, bitch.”

Once your plate is hammered down to a scattering of crumbs, the two of you ease into petty conversation. Dina tells you she’s going on a date soon, and it isn’t so petty anymore, as you sit up and lean in.

“So, you were serious about ending things with Jesse, huh?”

“I’m done with him. For good. I just… What we had was nice but it fucking felt like we were on autopilot at that point, ya know?”

You nod; she sips her beer as the conversation wanes. Then, you notice the stiffness of her expression – the wistful twitch of her lip. You know what that means.

“What?”

“What?”

“What is it? You look like you’re dying to tell me something, so go on. What is it?”

Dina sighs and looks away and your stomach sinks, because you also know what that means. Your suspicions are only confirmed when she tells you she met up with Ellie today.

“How is she?” you ask. Your chest hurts with how hard your heart thumps.

“She’s doing better, I really think she’s going to be okay…”

You nod. There’s nothing else you want from her. Being clear with yourself, your mind never quite left the last conversation, did it?

Fucking Ellie, coming back and taking over your mind so easily.

A sick part of you hopes she thinks of you even more than you think of her.

You don’t know it, but you’re right. Painfully so.

Dina’s conflicted. She hesitates, because she's not sure if you’ll react badly but she can’t help letting it slip past her lips.

“I really think you should give her-”

“What, Dina? Give her what?”

Your eyes are wide and trained on her.

She sighs. Never mind.

“Look, I invited her to Julia’s party tonight.”

And now your eyes are narrowed at her, harsh and interrogative.

“Well, she can’t stay hidden away forever! She’s gotta get out eventually, and you’re gonna have to face her again, whether you like it or not…

I know it’s hard to trust her after what she did to you, and I’m not asking you to… I’m just saying… I know that you know the state she was in when she left… But she’s not there anymore… She was our best friend at one point and, when I spoke to her today, I really felt like she was serious about what she said… I just think, for old times’ sake, maybe… just, as friends, acquaintances even… give it a chance…”

It's getting really hard to keep up the pretense of disinterest – keep pretending this doesn't go as deep as it does.

You still love Ellie. You would never deny that, even in spite of the bullshit idea that you’re over her. And you do want to see her happy, to see her smile, to see that smile again. So, if there is even a slight chance of putting things right and moving forward, you’re willing to be friends with her, with the person who broke your heart. Just friends.

“…Okay.”

Ellie shows up to the party on a wing and a prayer a little while after it gets dark out.

She’s still on the fence about whether or not she regrets it.

Julia’s moved since she last visited. Granted, it’s been a fuck of a long time, but she likes the new place. It’s charming, or whatever. Or maybe it’s just open-plan. Ellie feels like an old fart for thinking about the room being open-plan; Ellie feels like Joel.

Then she remembers that that feeling alone would have sent her into a spiral just a year ago.

Regardless, the place is glowing gold, with soft lights, and a rhythmic, drunken buzz of chatter among the cliques of people. A lot less than she'd expected. It’s also slightly reminiscent of the get-togethers Maria used to set up, drawing Ellie’s mind back to the fact that she needs to go over to Maria and Tommy’s soon.

She feels like an alien again, standing outside of it all, like the twang of a snapped guitar string during a melody.

Also, Dina was right: things are different. Very different.

In fact, with a quick scan of the room alone, Ellie can’t make out any familiar faces, save for a few, which she often sees looking at her distastefully throughout the course of the evening.

It makes her visibly retract into the table, hunching her back slightly, but she is used to the whispers.

She’s gotten a lot of them in her time.

And now she’s sure she regrets coming, because it isn’t even a little fun if you’re the only one who isn’t the least bit drunk.

She notices a buzz in the pocket of her jeans and pats the space for her phone, pulling it out to see that it’s yet another missed call from Max.

It leads her to a lookthrough of masses of texts left on delivered and blocks of unanswered calls from him in her phone history.

With a sigh, she returns it to its place in her pocket. She might as well block him at this point. He’s not gonna be hearing from her for a long time.

“Ellie!”

She flinches upright and doesn’t scour the scene for long before her eyes land on the tall Asian asshole that has seemingly appeared out of thin air beside her. She’s secretly a lot more relieved than she should be at the sight of a friend.

“I swear to God, both of you love to fuckin’ torture me.”

He guffaws while she waits for him to calm down, unimpressed.

“Wait, both of us? Who’s both of us?”

“Who d’ya think?”

“Oh, right. You finally spoke to Dina then, huh?”

Ellie nods, taking a sip of the drink sitting in her Styrofoam cup.

“I swear to God, you two are perfect for each other.”

He raises his eyebrows,

“Actually…”

“What? Again?”

That’s one thing that has remained a constant no matter how much time has passed.

“I give it, like, two weeks. You’ll be back together.”

Jesse takes a deep breath,

“I don’t know, man, I think we’re done for good this time. Already been two weeks… Why? Did she say anything?”

Ellie shakes her head and Jesse leans back against the table defeatedly before peering into her cup.

“Whatcha got there?”

That should probably rub her the wrong way, but it doesn’t.

“Water.”

They’ve drifted apart, and it’s blatant. Of course it would be. Ellie’s had a lot of time to think, a lot of time to prepare, and she’s expected this, but the conversation drifts back into that same easy flow like it used to all those months back, speckled with laughter, even some of Ellie’s own. She can’t help but feel slightly more hopeful, slightly more human.

He asks about Max and songwriting, having caught a glimpse of a text, and she considers it.

She hasn’t considered music in an almost saddening amount of time but her notebook is scrawled with half-finished poetry, so she knows it’s begging to be let out of her, and the thought elicits serenity in her. Making songs without intent to release. No purpose, no pressure. Just for herself and whoever she chooses to make privy.

She thinks she just might start.

An hour or so later, Ellie, having floated around the place, aimlessly entering conversations with Dina and Jesse, leans against a counter top beside a stumpy drink cooler.

She’s been mulling over the option of leaving for a while since Dina somehow disappeared on her trek to the restroom and Jesse took off early. She eyes the factions spotting the empty space across the floor. Somewhere near the dining table, Ellie catches sight of you, and she tenses up almost instantly.

You look good. You look beautiful. You always look beautiful, like the first time she saw you all those years ago, and she couldn’t get her eyes off you from up on the stage. No matter how warped things became towards the end, those memories will always be paradisaical.

The only difference, she considers, with a tight feeling in her chest, is the glaringly large new factor lingering around you, Alexis.

If Ellie and you were still together, if Joel was still here, if she hadn’t lost her mind, if she had gotten better sooner, or if she had never left at all, that would be her.

But it’s not.

It’s like a physical reminder, standing across the room, of the cruel consequence. Of everything she lost, what she left behind.  A reminder that the two of you were never a given, that you weren’t just going to find your way back to each other, and that maybe it’s for the best, because Ellie hadn’t seen a smile so genuine on your face for the entire month leading up to her departure as the one you’re wearing now. It stirs something within her, and it makes her take a deep breath - decide to get a refill on her water.

With her head tilted down, brows knitted like a kicked dog, she walks over to the sink, before she crosses paths with a woman. She looks to be a few years younger than Ellie, a few inches smaller too, with frizzy hair like strands of hay, grinning at her.

"Excuse me," her voice quivers with hesitant excitement and Ellie dreads what’s yet to come.

"You're Ellie Williams, right? I’m such a big fan, I saw you perform in Radio City back in New York last year! You were, like, genuinely fucking amazing! Man, I can’t believe I’m actually seeing you in the flesh!"

Ellie tries to make her smile look less like nervous, eyes briefly meeting the woman's before darting away. Her capacity for fan interactions has significantly decreased since she came back from LA, which is not good since it was already pretty fucking awful. Especially now that her mood has flat lined. Her jaw tightens as she mutters curtly,

"Yeah, that's me.”

“Oh my god, okay, um, would you mind if we took a quick photo together?"

With a hardened expression, Ellie takes a sip from her cup before responding.

"Actually, I'm just here to chill. Not really up for photos."

She immediately feels a tinge of regret as she watches the woman’s shoulders slump and her eyes dim,

"Oh, right. Of course. Sorry to bother you."

As you meander through the course of people and furniture, Ellie doesn’t bother watching the woman retreat to her place among the others. She releases a shaky exhale, drumming her fingers against the rim of her cup, her gaze fixed on a distant point before you yank the stack drink cooler open beside her.

"Ever the charmer, I see."

Her lips part to respond, but you’re so near, and she wasn’t expecting you to even come close to approaching her, so she stumbles through her words like a dumbass, mentally punching herself in the face.

“Uh- Hey… Didn’t know you were coming…”

“Well, I’m here. In the flesh.”

Ellie blushes, her voice low,

“You heard all that?”

“Yep.”

“How bad was it?”

You chuckle,

“Yeah, pretty fucking bad, dude.”

She sighs, running a hand over her face,

“I swear I didn’t mean to be an asshole, it's just… I haven’t spoken to any fans in, like, three months, and I have lost all ability to.”

“Pfft, okay, Justin Bieber. You and your hoards of fangirls.”

Ellie chuckles lightly, the dimple in her cheek deepening as she huffs out a quiet,

“Shut up…

Look… I-uh… I’m sorry for showing up like that at your place, I didn’t know you were living there… and… and, I’m sorry for how the conversation went, I just- had a lot to say, and it came out weird, and I understand if you don’t wanna see me anymore. I understand if you want me to keep my distance… If that’s what you want, I’ll do it, but what I said, I meant it… And I know it isn't really not possible to go back to how things were, but if you’re willing to give me a chance, I really would like to make things right.”

“Ellie… I’m gonna be honest with you. When you left, it was… “

You take a deep breath, shaking your head,

“I felt like my life was over. And then I kept hearing about overdoses and rehab and-

I don’t know…

I’m not gonna pretend I stopped caring about you. I never stopped… but… I don’t know… I just… I don’t fucking know if anything can go back to the way it was…

I used to feel like I’d never be able to forgive you.”

When you look back at Ellie, she takes in a sharp breath of air and her expression shifts as she looks away from you with glassy eyes.

“But… I’d like to try.”

She releases the air slowly, nodding her head as the tears pool, swiped away by steadfast hands before they cascade down her freckled cheeks. It reminds you wipe away your own.

“We have to take it slow, just try to be friends again, okay?”

She’s nodding,

“Yeah, okay…”

For the first time in way too fucking long, you feel oddly liberated. It’s like a weight has been lifted off your soul, released in the form of a heavy sigh, deep and visceral.

When you lock eyes with Ellie, you feel overrun with the desire to hug her - beyond just a hug. It’s been too long.

Perhaps it’s the nostalgia laced through the air in the moment, all the memories of late nights at the bar under dim lights, with the world shrunk to just big enough for the two of you and your honest laughter and the song changing to something you remember, and you watch a few couples start swaying in their drunken leisure.

"Hey," you look over and speak softly, your voice almost drowned out by the music.

"Hey,"

"I used to love this song."

Ellie nods, her gaze flickering towards the center of the room, where a few couples had started swaying to the slow beat and an ember of recognition glows in her dilated pupils before she chuckles softly.

"Yeah, I remember."

"Wanna dance?"

You blindside her completely, but she only lets the shock stunt her into hesitation for a brief moment before nodding,

"Yeah… I’d like that."

But, like clockwork, Alexis jogs over, weaving through people with a drunken flush across her cheeks, eyes lighting up when she spots you. You know it shouldn't disappoint you, but it does, because you can already feel Ellie tensing beside you and it takes everything in you not to groan.

"Hey, there you are!"

Her arm finds its way around your waist but the touch feels more suffocating than anything. Again.

"I've been looking for you everywhere, babe," her eyes dart between you and Ellie.

"Oh, hey, Ellie," Alexis adds,

"It's good to see you."

Ellie forces a gulp down her constricted throat with a stiffened posture. Her fingers curl into her palm before she takes hold of her left ring and pinkie in her right hand, squeezing them gently to feel something.

The easy smile she’d been wearing moments ago discreetly faded, deforming into something more guarded, uncertain, and when she speaks, her voice is quieter now. You think it's almost too quiet.

"Yeah. You too."

There's a strained silence, and it makes the air thick, too thick to breathe in comfortably, as the three of you stand awkwardly, the music a distant thrum in the background. You can feel Ellie retreating into herself. An old, familiar insecurity is creeping back into her eyes.

Clueless, Alexis leans into you,

"Wanna dance, babe?"

What if you said no? You would really, really love to say no. You already asked Ellie, after all. You look over at her.

But, before you can respond, her voice cuts in, soft but laced with something you placed a long time ago. Her smile was tight and forced.

"I’m good. You two have fun. I was planning on leaving soon anyway.”

And even through the polite wording, you can feel a pin-prick edge, a subtle distance that hadn’t been there previously. Her eyes land on you for a split second and then back at Alexis, but it was hard to miss the look in them.

"Really? Why? You should stick around for a bit longer."

“No, really, I’d rather not. I don't wanna impose.”

You clench your jaw, placed on the outskirts of the conversation again. Deja vu washes over you as you think back to the abrupt cut-off of the last one.

She turns to you,

"I'll see you soon?"

You nod.

You aren’t blind. You've lived with Ellie, spent every waking moment with her for years and years worth of time; you can tell when she's jealous.

But she knows she doesn't have the right to feel hurt..

What really plagues you is the fact that it shouldn’t make you feel this way.

When she leaves, you say nothing.

Ellie drags her feet up the wooden staircase leading to the veranda, mind clouded with thoughts, good and bad, with nothing but the shrill cry cicadas and of the oak beneath the weight of her shoes to punctuate the night.

When she reaches the top step, a familiar shepherd dog leaps at her torso, barking enthusiastically with his tail wagging and his tongue out. It knocks the wind out of her, and she grabs onto the rail.

“Woah. Hey, Buddy!”

She chuckles down at him.

The name just stuck. And, she supposes that, since she named him, she’s stuck with him for good too. It’s not like anyone will be looking for him anyway; he’s a stray she’s been feeding since she got back, with matted fur speckled in dirt and a slightly more skeletal structure than most. Ellie doesn’t like to acknowledge fact that he sometimes reminds her of herself.

When he barks up at her, she scratches him behind the ear and watches him contort into her touch like it’s crack or something.

And then, he somehow manages to get inside when she opens the door, paws smacking against the laminate floors as he scuttles across them. Ellie appreciates company a lot more these days.

She collapses onto that fucking king-sized bed as soon as she reaches it and runs a hand through her scruffy auburn hair.

Her fingers run through a lot longer than they used to. She needs a haircut.

You used to cut her hair for her. She’d sit in her underwear, shivering on a stool in the bathroom with a towel over shoulders that she’d hold tight like a cap, and you’d laugh at her as you sifted through her locks for ones that looked too long, blowing the cuttings from her bangs off the bridge of her freckled nose,

The last time she was due for a cut, she did it herself. Craned her neck over a bin and swiped the cut hair off her shoulders before looking at the choppy shit-show sitting on her head in the mirror.

Maybe she’ll just go to a hairdresser this time around.

She sighs and looks around the room. This was the only one in the house still full of things, because you’d left all of her possessions neatly arranged around it. Leaned against the foot of the bed is a painting she’d started a little after Joel passed, unfinished. A thin layer of dust sits upon the cotton and acrylic surface of the canvas, blurring the image of your face.

There are a few of that sort scattered around the room. Ellie turns onto her side and lets the tears run quietly. No pounding heart or hyperventilating. Just crying.

It’s bittersweet but, after tonight, she feels a flicker of hope, a dangerous thing for someone with her past.

She’s grateful for the door you opened to her, grateful for anything you give her at all, because she’ll take it gladly, and make things right, piece by piece, slowly, regardless of how long it takes.

It’s the only way she can keep going, because she’s tired of the way things have been. She’s tired of running.

At this point, you’re about ten minutes away from Julia’s place. You left, still not uttering a word. You left, without telling Alexis, and trailed down the sidewalk, paved with streetlights ushering you on, with a hazy mind but a set goal.

When your journey ends, you’re at the pebble beach that you and Ellie used to come to together.

Because you want to remember what it felt like.

Because you want to feel Ellie.

Smooth stones roll off each other as you walk to the shore, causing a series of mini avalanches with each step you take.

You stand before the shoreline, watching the foam blockade rush up to your feet and then back again. Down the center of the water, there’s a ribbon of moonlight, luminescent ripples glinting in the water, a thousand diamonds.

You sigh, and pull out your phone, tapping Alexis’ number.

It’s probably time.

[monster-disaster]

[wolf-shifter] Rome + you take control

wolf-shifter!Rome x human!Reader Good to know: smut

Summary: It's your turn to take control while the wolf is tied to the bed.

A/N: We meet Rome again from [wolf-shifter] Rome and [wolf-shifter] Rome + NSFW Alphabet

The shifter's long, lean body is spread out on your bed. The blankets and sheets are a mess around him, pushed to the side carelessly. The sight fills you with satisfaction and greed. Your gaze runs over his muscular legs, his tight abdomen, and wide chest. His dark fur seems soft to the touch under the dim light of the lamp streaming through the window above your bed. Different shades of gray cover his whole body, turning darker and darker on his tail, which wags lazily with anticipation. His arms and legs are stretched and tied to the corners of the bed with thick ropes. You can see his muscles shifting and twitching every now and again as he tries to move but fails every time. You can't help but smile at his attempts. The control you have over the situation, over him, buzzes under your skin.

"You are so pretty like this," you coo. Your words are followed by his groan as he closes his eyes for a long second while turning his head away from you. You know if he would lie before you in his human form, you could see him blushing.

"Poor baby," you continue, leaving the end of the bed to approach him with slow, confident steps. Your fingers rake over the thick fur at the top of his head. Rome preens under your caress, incapable of hiding his reaction to your closeness.

"It's okay," you hum, enjoying the situation maybe a bit too much. But how could you not? After the wolf-shifter jumped on you because of his rut, you have every reason to take advantage of him like that, tied down and exposed.

"We will have so much fun!"

Climbing up on the bed beside him, you settle down on your knees, letting your gaze wander up and down on his body the whole time. You feel like a little kid in the candy store. There is this hunk of a wolf in front of you, and you don't even know where to start with him.

"You know I could tear them apart if I wanted to," he breaks the silence for the first time in a while. He tugs on the ropes, and the bed creaks under the sudden force.

You smirk at him again, letting your hand rest on the middle of his chest. Your fingers play with his fur, seeking out the warmth of his skin underneath it. "I know," you reply. "But what would be the fun in that?"

He knows you are right. He didn't agree to do this for nothing. He was intrigued by the idea of you taking control and having your way with his body. And again, after what he had done, he owns you this.

"My pretty puppy," you whisper under your breath as your hand slips down from his chest to his crotch. Your nails graze over the tight muscles of his stomach, and you tease the sensitive skin around the base of his cock without touching his length even for a moment. It juts out, erected, and already leaking.

"I barely touched you," you grin, flicking the tip of his cock gently.

The shifter grows, and the bed creaks again. "Y/N!"

"Shh," you shake your head. "You promised."

The male groans again because he knows you are right, and he can do nothing about it. When he relaxes back on the bed, you continue your exploration. Your fingertip runs down at the underside of his cock, brushing over his heavy balls between his thick thighs and back up on his upper body until you reach his chin. You turn his head so he faces you. His almond-shaped eyes are focused and intense as he looks back at you. His ears twitch at the top of his head, waiting for your next move.

"Hey," you grin, leaning closer until your nose touches his snout.

"Hey," Rome grunts with flaring nostrils. Your scent fills his senses with a hint of your building arousal.

The kiss you share with the wolf-shifter is awkward and clumsy. It's all sharp teeth and tongue, but it's not less enjoyable as you let yourself lean closer, bracing yourself on his chest with an open palm. You can feel the strong and steady beat of his heart through the thick plates of his muscles.

"Y/N." Your name comes out breathlessly. His tongue licks over his canines as if trying to savor your taste.

You hum. "I'm here." You restart your caressing from his chest down to his erection. You can feel his abdomen clenching under your fingertips as you brush your fingers through his fur. It's warm and soft, and your palm tingles with the urge to curl your fingers and grab onto him.

You take your time, petting him and playing with the thick strands covering his whole body. By the time you reach his cock, it twitches with a damp, dark pink tip. You flick it again, not even caring about the shifter's unamused grunt as you lift your finger to your mouth, tasting him. His heavy gaze burns, and you make sure to lick him off of your finger thoroughly.

Your name leaves his lips once again with more desperation and impatience. His hips buck upwards, his cock bobs in the air, and you take the not-so-subtle hint with a grin on your face.

"So impatient," you huff, amused.

Readjusting yourself between his legs, your hands land on his thighs. Your nails glide over his taut, twitching muscles, sending a shiver through his whole body.

"Don't-" Rome starts to say something, but his words die on his tongue when you bend over to press a soft, teasing kiss on the swollen tip of his erection. A shuddering breath leaves his chest that ends in a sharp exhale when you poke out your tongue and lick the sensitive underside of his glans, making him jerk with the sudden sensation. His hands curl into fists as he pulls on his bonds keeping him on the bed. The tug is hard enough to make the frame of the bed rattle, but he has still enough control over himself not to tear the ropes apart.

You continue lapping at the head of his cock, savoring the musky, earthy taste of his pre-cum. Holding him steadily at the base, you lick a warm, wet path over his shaft before taking him all the way into your mouth. You alternately suck and stroke him while the shifter growls and snarls into the otherwise quiet bedroom. His cock is a pleasant weight on your tongue as you hollow your cheeks to suck him deeper. Your hand twists around his hard girth while giving the tip quick, darting licks and sloppy kisses. You let yourself drool on his erection, smearing your own saliva all over his length.

You peer up at him through your lashes, watching him staring at the bobbing motion of your head as your lips stretch hungrily around him. His gaze is sharp and already half-delirious, and his long tongue hangs out of his large mouth as he pants and wheezes. His hips buck up every now and again, hitting the back of your throat with a low, dangerous snarl when the vibration of your choking on his cock surges through his spine.

The sight of him so exposed and vulnerable under you makes your pussy clench with need even though you didn't even touch yourself yet. Your flimsy underwear is soaked, sticking to your slit as your hips rock back and forth every few minutes, trying to get some friction but failing every time.

"If you would let me..." He starts with a knowing, smug smile, but you shake your head even before he can finish the sentence.

"You," you point at him. "You stay there until I decide otherwise."

The swollen head of his cock glistens with your saliva and his pre-cum when you let him go to get out of bed for a second. The wolf growls, annoyed, but says nothing.

You get rid of your clothes quickly, letting the small fabrics fall on the ground before climbing back up above him with an excited, burning coil in your lower stomach. You can feel your own wetness every time your thighs rub together as you move.

Rome watches the scene breathlessly. His lungs burn, and his muscles are already sore from being so taut for so long, but these things are the last ones on his mind right now. His eyes wander down from the soft line of your shoulders to the tantalizing curve of your breasts and hard nipples. He salivates at the sight, wanting to sit up and feel them under his tongue and take them into his mouth until you have to push his large head away because they become too sensitive, and tears gather in your eyes every time he nibbles on them. But no, he grunts, pulling on the ropes once again with a tense snarl that makes you grin down at him.

"Poor pup," you mock him. "How does it feel, huh? I do what I want with you, and you can do nothing about it."

Both of you know that it's a lie. He could get rid of his bonds within a second, but he lets you have your fun. And even though he is annoyed by your words, he loves seeing you so confident and happy. And your saliva on his throbbing cock is not a bad feeling either.

Lowering yourself above his erection, you place your hands on his stomach to keep your balance as the head of his cock slides over your slit. The blunt tip teases your folds and rubs your clit. Anticipation ripples through your body as you reach down to grab him between your fingers, stroking him up and down a few times before positioning his dick to your entrance.

You know you should make yourself more ready for him, but despite your words and constant teasing, you know very well that your fun can end any moment if the shifter under you loses his patience.

Holding your breath, you watch him watching you sliding down on his cock inch by inch. The tight ring of your pussy stretches and pulses on his thickness, making you cry out with desperation.

You need several minutes and small, grinding motions to get used to the feeling of him inside you, stuffing you full and rubbing all over your walls while he watches the scene transfixed. He throbs and leaks at the sight of his cock disappearing in your warm, wet channel.

Slowly, you start to rock your hips back and forth. The muscles of your thighs are tense as you keep some of your weight on your legs so you can keep moving. A few times, you accept him as deep as possible, moaning and wheezing. Your walls contract around his cock every time the tip of his length hits the sensitive, spongy spot inside you. Your muscles flutter and grip him tighter.

You ride him as fast as you can, chasing your own orgasm. You can feel it at the corner, approaching but never truly reaching you. Desperate mewls and cries roll out of your mouth as you scowl and nibble on your lower lip. A thin layer of sweat glistens on your heated skin, rolling down your cheeks, cleavage, and the line of your spine. Rome got you so used to his merciless pounding that you can't make yourself cum with such a disappointing speed. It's enough to keep your desire alive but not enough to push you over the edge. You chant his name, complaining and begging while the wolf tries to buck his hips into you despite him still bound to the bed.

Frustration grows inside your heaving chest as you scowl. Damn wolf, you think. Rome got you so used to him having his way with your body that he ruined this for you. Bouncing up and down on his lap is simply not enough anymore.

You can feel the change in the air when Rome has enough of your silly, little playtime. The bed creaks one last time as the ropes snap around his wrists and ankles. They fall to the ground and on the bed without a sound. Before you know it, his large paws are on your hips, holding you bruisingly tight while he braces himself on the mattress. Your breath catches in your throat for a second before Rome punches a loud, crying moan out of your lips with one strong push of his hips. Keeping you in place, the wolf fucks up into you, stuffing you full with his hard, throbbing cock while the only thing you can do is whimper and hold onto his hands.

Now that his knees are up in the air, you can lean back against them with your hands, arching your back while the shifter still bullies your pussy without a second of pause. Your tits bounce with every, almost painful thrust while your pussy clenches and flutters around his rigid erection. Your eyes roll back, and your moan is hoarse and breathless as you say his name when your orgasm rocks through your body, turning your blood into molten lava in your veins. The male snarls at the tightness of your drenched cunt, pulling you down on himself to shoot his hot, thick load into you. You can feel every throb and twitch of his cock as the wolf cums, plastering your walls in his seed while his knot presses inside your mercilessly.

"Fuck!" The word bursts out of your lips breathlessly. The only thing keeping you on top of him is the wolf, holding you tightly while grinding up into your pulsing, gushing cunt.

His knot is still thick inside your fluttering walls when you let yourself lay down on his wide chest, breathless and weak.

"We need stronger ropes," you hum. Your voice is barely louder than a whisper.

The male chuckles. "You can try, love."