#Plain White T's - The Giving Tree

[torakowalski]

I'm trying not to say "sorry for the delay!" every time I post because there's only so many times you can say that before a delay becomes... Just the speed at which I post.

Anyway, I started a fancy new job last week and I'm knackered, but luckily so is Steve. So here he is! Finally at his first games!

(part one | part eight)

Seoul is... Wow, Seoul is like nothing Eddie has ever experienced. After roaming the US for two years, he thought he was pretty well travelled, but it turns out that he was a super embarrassingly wrong.

Jonathan Byers loaned Eddie his camera (with strict instructions on how to take care of it) and Eddie has already sent a roll of film home to be developed, despite having only been here three days. He's also sent about a dozen postcards and had one thirty-second phone call with Wayne where he just had time to promise he wasn't dead and wouldn't become dead, before his money ran out.

Now, it's sometime in the evening and he's lying on his bed, pretending that he isn't fully fucked up by the thirteen hour time difference between here and home. He keeps thinking about how it'll be early morning in Hawkins, that he's basically in the future right now. He rolls over, grabs another postcard and addresses it to Dustin.

Greetings from the future. Today's lottery numbers are...

Then he flicks a drop of ink and deliberately smudges it across the paper.

He's busy laughing at his own cleverness, when there's a knock on the door. Expecting the incredibly helpful woman who runs this hotel, Eddie rolls off the bed, and pads barefoot over to the door, opening it with an, "Annyeonghaseyo."

Steve, standing on the other side of the door, smiles at him and says, "Have you learned the whole language yet?"

"I'm not Robin," Eddie tells him, before grabbing his arm and pulling him inside. "What are you doing here?"

Steve shrugs, running a hand through his hair to push it back off his face. It doesn't look like there's any product in it, and he looks tired, standing there in a plain white t-shirt and his red and white Team USA tracksuit pants.

"My roommate brought one of the athletics girls back to our room, so I said I'd give them some space."

It's been two days since they last saw each other and Eddie wants to hug him, or kiss him, or maybe climb him like a tree, but he's not sure what the rules are.

They've barely had a chance to talk about anything since that first kiss three weeks ago. Dustin insisted on coming back to their hotel room with them for a sleepover that night, and then Steve has been training with the Olympic coaches every hour since.

They've kissed four times in total. The last one was four days ago in Toronto Airport before they boarded the longhaul flight to Seoul. Then Steve headed to first class with the rest of the swim team and Eddie to cattle, clutching his brand new passport.

He'd spent eleven hours wedged between an international student and a very chatty Korean grandma. Every time he went to pee, he spied on Steve through the little curtain but only managed to catch his eye a couple times. Steve looked happy, making friends in the team, and being brought complimentary bags of peanuts. He'd looked like he belonged.

"Well, welcome." Eddie gives Steve a bow then wishes he hadn't. That's what he'd do for anyone, and Steve isn't just anyone.

Steve rolls his eyes at him, but hopefully at least kind of fondly.

"Thanks. I'll make myself at home."

He throws himself down onto the bed, stretching out his arms and groaning. Eddie's mouth goes dry watching him, wondering if it'd be okay to follow him down.

Steve closes his eyes for long enough that Eddie thinks maybe he's just come here to nap. Then he blinks up at Eddie, and holds out his hand.

"Lonely?" Eddie asks, stepping close enough that Steve can push his fingers between Eddie's.

"I mean, I wouldn't say no to some company." Steve pulls on Eddie's hand, pulls again. Eddie thinks for a second then rolls up onto the balls of his feet, so the next time Steve tugs, Eddie spills forward and right down on top of him.

Steve wheezes on impact, laughing out, " You shit," when he gets his breath back.

Eddie looks down from about two inches above him. They're almost nose to nose, so close that Steve's eyes are a blur of green and brown. "Sorry, is this not where you wanted me?"

Steve wraps his arms around Eddie's middle, rubs his fingers along the hem of Eddie's shirt. "I guess there are worse places for you to be."

He smiles and Eddie smiles, then Steve lifts his head and Eddie lowers his and they're kissing. Again. Some more. First kiss in Korea, fifth kiss overall. Eddie wonders if they'll ever do enough kisses that he stops counting.

Then he tells himself to stop hoping for a future and focus on right now.

Steve's kisses are slick and measured, so Eddie tries to slow down to match. He shifts a little to the side so he isn't totally squashing Steve but Steve makes a protesting noise and hoicks him back on top.

"I'm too heavy," Eddie protests. He's never laid on top of someone before, but he's gotta be, right? He's a full grown adult man.

"I like it," Steve says, like that's the end of the argument. Then he pulls Eddie back on top of him and kisses him and, well, that is the end of the argument.

"How long can you stay?" Eddie asks once he's kissed every part of Steve's face that looked kissable (all of it) and is thinking of moving on to his neck.

"Curfew's ten and it's -" Steve lifts his arm to check his watch over Eddie's shoulder. " - ten past ten, so I guess... forever?"

"That is the best logic I ever heard, but I don't think time works like that, sweetheart."

Steve's eyes flare, which is kinda interesting. Eddie calls everyone sweetheart, same as his mama called everyone sugar, but if Steve likes it, it's his.

"My roommate will cover for me," Steve says, easily. Of course he's immediately fallen into the whole team aspect of the games. He's a jock all the way down to his DNA and they bond like pack animals. "He thinks he's sent me roaming the streets of Seoul alone, after all."

"Rude," Eddie says. "Banished you out into the night, just so he can get laid."

"Super rude," Steve agrees. He hesitates then adds, "Or like, not actually laid. The guys who were on the team for the LA games think it's bad luck to have sex before a race."

"Like...immediately before or at all?" Eddie asks. Steve's races don't start for another four days and Eddie isn't, okay Eddie isn't expecting anything, but Steve is in his bed right now.

"From the opening ceremony until their races are done," Steve says. He makes a face. "It's just total superstition, obviously."

"Obviously," Eddie agrees.

Steve bites his lip.

"And you're scared to go against it just in case," Eddie fills in for him.

Steve puts a hand over his face and squints at Eddie from between his fingers. God, he's cute. A cute, cute dork. "Sorry."

Stupidly, Eddie feels himself blush. "Sweetheart, I'm not, I wasn't, I'm not... I, uh, I. Shut up."

Steve frowns. "I didn't say anything?"

"I was telling myself to shut up." Eddie groans.

"Ohhh, I can help with that," Steve says. Then he kisses Eddie again, like he thinks he's smooth.

It's actually kind of easier to relax into just kissing now that he knows they're not gonna be doing anything else. He can focus on the warmth of Steve's lips and the spit taste of his mouth. Or, it turns out, on the weird feeling of Steve yawning directly into their next kiss.

"Excuse you," says Eddie.

"Excuse me," Steve agrees, and tries to go back to kissing. But Eddie caught a look at him when they broke apart and he's heavy eyed and very, very sleepy-looking.

This time when Eddie moves to the side, Steve's protest is quieter.

"Tired?" Eddie asks.

"Nah, I'm good." Steve yawns again then looks betrayed by himself.

Eddie strokes his hair back behind his ears for him then runs his finger over Steve's flushes cheekbones. "Wanna have a nap?"

"I should get back," says Steve, while simultaneously snuggling down deeper into Eddie's pillow.

"A short nap, then I'll wake you up," Eddie promises, secure in the knowledge that he hasn't fallen asleep before four any night they've been here yet.

"Just a short one," Steve says, tugging Eddie back so he's hooked under Steve's arm.

Entirely unsure of the protocol, Eddie lays his head on Steve's chest. It's all hard and muscly, not actually all that comfortable to lie on, but it's also Steve's chest so Eddie's gonna give it a whirl, anyway.

"You're coming to watch me, right? Every heat?" Steve asks, fingers twirling in Eddie's hair.

"I mean, there's a lot of other stuff happening. You know they've let tennis back in, this year?" Eddie says, drawing it out. When Steve tugs a little on his hair, he laughs. "Yeah, I'll be there. I haven't watched every other time you swam in the last two years just to miss out on any of this."

Steve hums like he's smiling. They've shared so many hotel rooms by now, spent so many nights talking in the dark, that Eddie can read him without having to see his face.

"Good," Steve says. He plays with Eddie's hair a little longer, before his fingers go slack and his breathing deepens.

Eddie smiles to himself, trapped under Steve's arm and not minding one bit. He might still be second guessing all the new rules of their relationship, but this part is familiar. He absolutely knows how to take care of Steve before a competition.

If there's such a thing as a tour manager for a swimmer, then he has all the experience in the world. He's still pondering whether or not that's a real career when, inevitably, he too falls asleep.

(continued here)

[hog-farmer]

Build Your Bear *At Home*

Through the dense wilderness a sizable tanker truck carefully winds down a lone road. The crunch of gravel under its tires and its rumbling engine disturb the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. After a while the monotony of trees finally parts to reveal a large lakeside clearing. 

An expensive log cabin house sits at the end of the remote path. Standing one story tall with a wraparound porch that encompasses the main entrance and its waterfront side. The wood of its roof and siding has a reddish hue to it that contrasts against the overwhelming evergreens surrounding it.

The truck slowly rolls to a stop before the cabin, letting out a loud creek along with a puff of air as its engine rests. Moments later its driver door is thrown open as the man behind the wheel emerges. 

Clad in a pair of dark navy coveralls he steps down out of his seat onto the ground below. The only significant detail on his suit is the name embroidered across the left breast pocket, ‘Locke'. Small tufts of bright blonde hair peek out from all sides underneath his cap. A company logo is centered on its front, composed of the letters, ‘BYB'.

Free from his vehicle the man takes a moment to stretch out the stiffness from his muscles. After giving his cap a quick adjustment he begins sauntering towards the cabin. In his brief walk he admires the home's scenery till he comes to a stop at its front door. He gives it a brisk but firm knock before following up by pressing the doorbell off to the side.

After roughly a minute later the door finally opens to reveal a man on the other side. He appears to be middle-aged, most of the color has left his beard and has begun creeping up his sideburns towards his dark hair. The only other thing that might signify his age is his soft rounded middle, giving him a little exaggerated dadbod. Regardless of the extra padding, he's fairly well-built everywhere else. A firm puffy chest, bulky arms, and tanky thighs to round out his figure. He's dressed down in a pair of light gray sweatpants and plain white t-shirt.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the driver greets the man inside with a tip of his hat. “My name is Gordon and I'm here for an at home ‘build your bear’ visit.” 

“Nice to meet ya,” the other man replies with an outstretched hand that Gordon promptly takes. “Name’s Mike, come on in,” he continues with a nod of his head as he turns to head in. Gordon follows along, stepping through the threshold and beginning to survey the home around him.

The aesthetic of the inside definitely matches that of the outside. A warm and cozy cabin vibe throughout every decoration and piece of furniture. It all appears very well kept, not completely immaculate but lived-in.

“Hon? Who's at the door?” Gordon distantly hears being called from somewhere in the house.

“Delivery!~” Mike responds to the voice with a slight teasing tone. 

The muffled pattering of steps follows before another man appears around the corner. He looks older than Mike, short gray hair combed back with a few streaks of white. Laugh-lines frame his eyes while a bushy goatee sits between his bubbly cheeks. Similar to Mike he has a bulkier figure, though visibly softer with his age. His outfit is just as relaxed as Mike's too, with long plaid pants and a dark shirt that his fuzzy chest and belly peek out from.

“I thought that wasn't supposed to be here till next week?” the new man asks, confused but delightfully surprised.

“They called with an opening in their schedule, so I thought ‘eh, why not?’,” Mike recounted as he approached, swinging his arm around the other man's lower back.

“Well consider me excited,” the older man replied with a bright smile as he softly brought their noses together. “Now, care to introduce me?” He cheekily adds with a leading glance over to Gordon.

“Right right right,” Mike quickly mutters with an amused huff. “Gordon, this is my partner Arthur. Arthur, this is Gordon,” he continues as the other men exchange a handshake and their own greetings.

“So, who will I be working with today?” Gordon pointedly asks after a moment, quizzically looking between the two men. 

“Oh, that'd be our boy, Ricky” Mike clarifies while smiling back at Arthur. “We had our five year anniversary with him a few days ago, so this is gonna be his gift.”

“Ah, Alrighty then. Why don’t you show me where I’ll be working, then I can go get my gear and get things started,” Gordon cheerfully suggests.

“Sounds great, let me show you to his room,” Mike agrees with a wave for Gordon to follow after him.

“You boys handle that, I’m gonna head back and finish prepping lunch,” Arthur waves them off as he departs back to the room he came from.

The two men round the corner and make their way down a spacious hallway. Photos and memorabilia are spread throughout its walls. As his eyes drift past them one photo in particular catches Gordon's attention.

It's of Mike and Arthur with a third young man between them that Gordon assumes is the aforementioned Ricky. He looks to be in his early twenties with short, somewhat curly auburn hair and light stubble across face. The three of them smile brightly as they're out at some sort of pride event. They're all shirtless with leather harnesses over their bare chests. Ricky has his arms draped over the older men's shoulders while their hands proudly rest on the budding bear's small starter-belly.

Gordon is brought out of his fixation when he hears soft knocking. At the far right end of the hall Mike stands in front of a bedroom door. His hand is still raised from knocking while the other rests patiently on its handle.

“Ricky~ Baby? You up?” Mike gently calls out. When no response comes through he proceeds to quietly open the door and enter. Gordon hurriedly catches up with him, though the sight past the threshold makes his eyebrows rise in slight surprise.

The young man Gordon caught a glimpse of moments before is now in front of him, nearly taking up the entire width of a queen-sized bed with the sheer size of himself. His legs lay spread out, completely encased in cellulite, especially around his inner thighs. Half of a thin blanket lays over the lower portion of his thighs, the other half is wedged under his expansive stomach. It reaches nearly as far as his hips do, coming short just a few inches. Past his gut are a set of heavy moobs. His reclined position causes them to sag to his sides, emphasizing his side rolls as they spread out as far as the length of his puffy upper arms. As he sleeps his head lays back against a pile of pillows that's propping him up. Other than much rounder cheeks, slightly unkempt hair, and another chin his features are all the same from the photo out in the hall. 

“Hey Ricky~ C’mon bud, wake up,” Mike softly coaxes as he approaches and gives the incredibly fat man’s shoulder a little shake. This seems to be enough to rouse him as he takes in a deep breath, lets out a big yawn and blinks his eyes. He looks around a little disoriented till he notices Mike at his side.

“Mornin’ Daddy~” Ricky yawns as he brings one of his hands up to wipe the sleep from his eye.

“It’s afternoon Baby,” Mike corrects with a chuckle as he combs his fingers through the young man’s hair.

“Oh right,” Ricky mumbles as he recounts having breakfast a couple hours earlier. 

“Guess what buddy? Daddy and Papa got a present for you,” Mike says as he steps back towards the doorway and gestures to Gordon. With that and a confused look from Ricky, Gordon decides to enter and introduce himself.

“Hi there, I’m Gordon. I’m here for an at home ‘build your bear’ visit,” Gordon says as he comes forward to shake Ricky’s hand.

“Hey,” Ricky greets as he reciprocates the gesture. After a momentary pause his stomach lets out a resonating rumble. “Daddy, I'm hungry. Where's lunch?”

“Papa will be here with it in a bit bud, don't worry,” Mike comforts.

“Actually, it might be a bit better if he waits to eat,” Gordon interjects. “It’ll put less pressure on his stomach and let the process act faster.”

“What? But I'm hungry now,” Ricky complains with a distressed whine building in his throat. His pleading eyes stare up at Mike for help.

“You can wait a little bit, bud,” Mike consoles. Not happy with that answer Ricky proceeds to turn away and pout. After a couple minutes of trying to comfort the large young man Mike eventually gives up with a sigh. “Ok, what'll it take to make you agree and wait?”

This finally gets Ricky's attention. He stops his pouting and instead mulls over what he wants in exchange. As he thinks his eyes land on Gordon which causes him to smirk devilishly as he comes up with an idea. He waves for Mike to come closer so he can cup his hand against his ear and whisper his idea to the middle-aged man.

“You want us to do what?” Mike recoils in surprise when Ricky finishes.

“That's what I want,” Ricky finalizes by crossing his arms over his chest as best he can. “Please Daddy?~” he follows with a very pleading expression. 

The older man contemplates for a second before he relents and agrees to Ricky's demands. Having won, the young man giddily wiggles in place, causing his fat to ripple across his body. Mike tousles the young man's hair before proceeding to exit the room with Gordon on his tail.

“So… what did he ask for?” Gordon breaks the silence once they're halfway down the hall.

“He… said he’d wait if he got to watch Arthur and I fatten up afterwards,” Mike shares, amused and a little embarrassed.

“Oh,” is all Gordon can muster, surprised himself, but also intrigued.

“Yeah, honestly it’s not surprising. It’s how we met him in the first place,” Mike comments.

“Really? Then how’d he end up being the spoiled and pampered one?” Gordon prods further.

“Well, we first started chatting with him online. He was some hotheaded cub that was all about being on top and dominating. So we invited him over for some fun and… he ended up being complete putty in our hands,” Mike recounts with a fond expression. “Though that doesn’t stop him from being a total brat when he wants to be.”

“Yeah that makes sense,” Gordon acknowledges with a chuckle.

“So, can ya do it?” Mike questions, referencing Ricky’s demand.

“Adding you two to the mix? Oh yeah, I’m happy to oblige,” Gordon confirms. “I’ll go get my supplies and get things ready for all of ya.”

“Sounds great,” Mike agrees.

From there the two men part in separate directions. Mike heads for the room they’d last seen Arthur enter while Gordon exits through the front door. The blond man makes his way back to his truck and climbs inside. Rummaging through the equipment haphazardly deposited behind his seat Gordon manages to find what he needs. An insanely-long industrial hose, three phallic-shaped nozzles, a bottle of lube, and the remote for the tanker’s pump system.

With his supplies in hand Gordon takes them around to the tanker’s side. Taking one end of the hose he positions it onto the tanker’s release port before locking it in place. With that secured Gordon checks over the tank’s pressure valves and vents to make sure they’re all working properly. Confident that everything is ready he takes the other end of the hose and begins trailing it towards the cabin. Through the entrance, pass the main living area and down the hall till Gordon’s outside Ricky’s room again.

“Just one treat Papa?” Gordon hears Ricky ask as the room’s interior comes into view. Ricky, unsurprisingly, is still firmly planted on his bed, though now the older men flank him on both sides.

“No bud, you promised you’d wait,” Arthur halfheartedly scolds before throwing in a cheeky non-threat. “Or do you not want Daddy and Papa to get fattened up for ya?” 

“You guys ready?” Gordon interrupts as he reenters the room and fixes a nozzle to the end of the hose.

“Yup all set,” Mike replies.

“Okay, now, normally this is the part where I tell the subject to strip, but…” Gordon trails off as he gestures at Ricky’s blatantly naked form. This earns a blush from the young man and a few chuckles from the older ones. “So let's get him propped up, lubed, and ready.”

“Oh you don’t have to worry about lube with this one. Trust me, he’s loose enough,” Arthur embarrassingly comments.

“Papa!” Ricky cries as the red of his face flushes an even deeper shade.

“Okay okay, let’s get going” Mike deescalates as he starts removing the pillow propping up Ricky. Arthur joins his efforts by taking the young man’s hand and helping him into a more upright position. While they’re busy with that Gordon comes around with his supplies.

Eventually they get everything ready. The space behind is clear and Ricky is sitting up as best he can, though he’s leaning over his belly a bit. His legs are awkwardly splayed out to the side with his feet just hanging over the edge of the bed. This leaves the big mounds of his ass completely exposed.

“Ready Ricky?” Gordon asks as he leans into the space behind the young man. 

With a firm nod from him Gordon instructs the other two men to start. From both sides they each reach toward the crevice of Ricky’s ass. Once they have a good grip they pull to pry his massive cheeks apart. They make a good effort of it but it's not quite enough to reveal the young man’s hole, so Gordon decides to probe around for it. 

It’s easy enough to slip a couple of fingers into the fleshy divide with how damp it is with sweat. Gordon’s hand is enveloped up to his knuckles before he finally feels where the two mounds meet. He doesn’t feel Ricky’s hole yet so he trails his fingers downward till he does. As soon as his digits brush up against the sensitive ring Gordon feels Ricky’s body give an anticipative shiver. Tentatively, Gordon probes the muscle further, finding it to already be fairly loose like Arthur commented earlier.

Using his thumb and index finger Gordon exposes Ricky’s hole as best he can with one hand. With that ready he takes the hose and brings its slicked nozzle towards the exposed muscle. It’s met with little resistance, only needing a few wiggles to ease the inner muscles and guide it deeper. Ricky lets out a relieved sigh as he feels the invading equipment finally brush past his prostate.

“Okay, that should be deep enough,” Gordon decides once roughly a foot of the phallic-shaped nozzle is planted past the young man’s rim. The other men relax their hold on Ricky’s boulder-like ass, letting the gelatinous flesh envelop the hose further. As the smaller men step back they convene at the front end of Ricky’s bed. Gordon unclasps the tanker’s remote from one of his suits pockets and hands it off to Mike and Arthur. The blond man gives them a short rundown of its control, mainly pointing out the start switch and volume knob.

“You ready for this baby?” Mike tenderly asks the young man as he and Arthur lean in close to his face.

“Yeah, make me huge,” Ricky replies as he gives his belly a quick pat. With that the two men dive in and plant a kiss on each of Ricky’s chubby cheeks.

They step back once more and finally turn on the tanker’s pump, setting the volume flow to about halfway. Nothing happens for roughly a minute till they see the hose begin to twitch along the floor. It steadily pulses as the shadow of the liquid inside inches further up the tube. Soon enough the fluid begins to enter Ricky, snaking its way through his guts before coming to settle in his stomach.

After a minute Ricky begins to feel a cycle of pain and relief as the pressure in his stomach grows and eases. Eventually it all blurs into the background as a general uncomfortableness when he notices his belly subtly creeping further outward. 

“At his size a couple of pounds is like a drop in an ocean, so his growth will be more of a subtle climb than anything drastic,” Gordon explains while everyone is fixated on Ricky’s slow-growing form.

Watching his body slowly expand like dough Ricky idly strokes his hands across his stomach. His flesh gets softer and larger with each pulse in his stomach. Mindlessly, the young man finds himself breathing in sync with the pumping. His hands drift to his chest, squeezing and cupping his nipples to try and completely cover them. In his grasp he feels them grow, their weight increasing around his digits till they’re unmanageable and he lets them flop back down.

After a couple of minutes Ricky’s stomach has swelled large enough to nearly reach the end of his bed. It’s already begun to drool over its sides. Behind him his ass has gone from large mounds to absolute mountains. They’ve reached his headboard at the other end of his bed and are steadily creeping higher up. His legs were useless before, but now they’re far beyond that. They’ve blown past the size of keg barrels, preventing the hope of them ever being able to bend again. Even his feet are turning puffy with fat as the adipose of his ankles threatens to swallow them up. 

His hands and arms are becoming just as encumbered. The excessive fat around his shoulders and elbows have just about locked his limbs in place, forcing them to lay uselessly atop his side rolls. His fingers are almost at their limit to be able to bend with how swollen they’ve become. Around his face another chin has formed under his second one and his bubbly cheeks have started encroaching closer together. They force his mouth into a permanent pout and cause his eyes to squint. 

*Creeeeek* *CRACK*

The bed frame lets out a high pitched whine before quickly giving out. Its legs completely snap under Ricky’s climbing weight, dropping the mattress and boxspring clean to the ground. The one foot drop sends a massive ripple through Ricky’s malleable form. Every fold, roll, and mound of fat doesn’t settle its jiggling for half a minute. It’s at this point that Ricky feels the pressure in his stomach slowly fade away, and the pleasurable growth alongside it.

“Nooo… why’d it stop,” the now immobile man struggles to whine through his puffy cheeks.

“Sorry bud, gonna have to stop ya there,” Arthur consoles as he comes up and places a comforting hand on one of Ricky’s rolls of back fat.

“Besides, don’t you wanna fill that belly with something else?” Mike interjects. This reminds Ricky of the food waiting for him, causing the blobby young man to wiggle his fat as best he can in excitement.

“Okay, I’ll go get his lunch,” Arthur volunteers. “While I do that, why don’t you get yourself ready?” He adds with a cheeky wink as he walks past Mike, giving the man a brief peck on the cheek as he does so.

With his partner now out of the room Mike turns to Gordon, “Welp, you heard the man, let’s get things started.”

“Alrighty, while I get Ricky here unhooked you strip and get comfortable,” Gordon instructs as he steps back around to Ricky’s rear. 

The titanic cheeks have enveloped much more of the hose in their growth, smothering the equipment underneath it. Gordon grabs the hose with one hand and uses his fingers to crawl along its length and reach a point of it further trapped within the doughy flesh. He gets as deep as he can till his arm is up to his shoulder in ass fat. From there Gordon takes a firm grip of the hose and begins to slowly tug backwards. He hears Ricky groan above him as it drags across his insides once again. When the giant man lets out a sigh of relief Gordon guesses the end of the long nozzle finally exited past his rim. He still gently extracts the rest of it till it's completely free from between Ricky’s gigantic cheeks.

While Gordon was busy doing that Mike began removing his clothes. Tossing his t-shirt to a random corner of the room and shamelessly shucking off his sweats and underwear in one swoop. He kicks them to the side and as he waits for Gordon to finish up Arthur returns to the room with a cart of food in tow.

The older man parks the cart right next to the bed and grabs one of the dishes on top of it. He’s about to hand it off to Ricky when he takes a second to realize the young man’s not really able to feed himself anymore. “Well, guess it’ll be hand feedings from here on out, huh boy?” Arthur comments as he leans over the bed and brings himself and the plate close to Ricky’s face. The enormous man doesn’t vocally reply, instead expectantly opening his mouth for the food in hand. Arthur rolls his eyes at Ricky with a fond smile as he feeds the young the first bite of his meal.

“Okay, you all set?” Gordon asks, regaining Mike's attention from the other men in the room. He stands ready as he spreads a generous dose of lube over a new nozzle that's been attached to the hose.

“Yup,” Mike responds before calling over to Ricky. “You ready to see Daddy get stuffed up?” Ricky manages to pull his attention away from the food being fed to him. His eyes now fixate on Mike, though he still opens his mouth and accepts every spoonful Arthur brings to his lips. 

With an amused chuckle Mike gives Gordon the signal to go ahead. Nodding, the blond comes down to one knee behind Mike. Using one hand to part the ample cheeks in front of him Gordon uses the other to tentatively press the nozzle of the hose against the ring of muscle. Gordon hears the man let out a sigh as he relaxes his muscles to let the head of it begin to invade him. Inch after inch slowly slips in with little resistance till roughly a foot of it is firmly planted inside. When Gordon’s done inserting the hose Mike lets out a shaky breath and leans forward with his hands on one of Ricky’s bed posts for support.

“You good?” Gordon gives one last check, wiggling the tank’s remote in his hands to imply the next step. With a nod from the other man Gordon activates the controls and sets the pump into motion.

The liquid hits Mike a lot sooner than he expected, now realizing most of the hose didn’t have to be filled like when they waited for Ricky. He feels the pressure of it start deep before steadily rising up into his stomach. Reaching full capacity causes the upper portion of his belly to bulge a little. After a second the pressure subsides and just before Mike can let out a relieved sigh it rises again. As Mike becomes accustomed to the cycling pressure he looks down to watch his expanding body.

The external bump of his stomach is quickly hidden under the new layers of fat on his swelling belly. It gradually loses its firm round shape, becoming soft and doughy with a divot forming that splits the bottom of it. His chest slowly loses what little definition it had, turning into full moobs that sit heavily over his stomach.

Mike’s upper arms and thighs take on the new fat much faster than the latter portions of his limbs, giving them a slightly unbalanced look. Every so often he has to adjust them, widening his stance and the angle he holds out his arms. Under his beard his neck starts to bulge out into a chunky ring, straining the movement of his head as he tires looking behind himself.

A couple sets of rolls have developed along his hairy back, respectively connecting around to his belly and chest. The largest spectacle behind him though was his ass. Like his thighs much more of his weight has settled into his ass, giving Mike a very over exaggerated pear shape.

“Okay, I think that’s good,” Mike calls over to Gordon. The blond man gives him a thumbs up and proceeds to turn off the pump. After a few seconds Mike feels the pressure finally subside, allowing him to regain his composure and right himself. The new weight throws him off for a moment but he quickly adjusts and becomes accustomed to it. 

“Now don’t you look handsome,” Arthur compliments as he approaches Mike. His hands roam over all the newly softened flesh of his partner. Feeling up his plump arms and thighs, lifting his full chest and heavy belly. Finally Arthur brings their lips together for a passionate kiss as his hands settle over Mike’s overly doughy rear. Fondling, jiggling, and kneading the malleable mounds to his heart’s content.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough ya horndog,” Mike chuckles as he breaks their kiss and playfully bats Arthur’s hands away. He tries reaching around himself to withdraw the hose, but he can’t quite reach it. His back rolls won’t let him turn like he used to, so the farthest he can grab of his sizable rear is the top cleft of his ass cheeks. “Help me with this thing will ya?” he asks with a nod behind himself.

“Sure thing hon,” Arthur replies with one last peck to the other man’s cheek. 

He steps around Mike and reaches for the hose protruding from his ass but pauses as he grabs it. A devious idea just popped into his head, and he immediately follows through with it. He holds Mike’s hip for leverage and slowly starts removing the invading object. Though when it’s roughly halfway out he promptly reverses its direction. This catches Mike by surprise, making the man let out a soft lewd moan at the sensation. Before he has a chance to respond Arthur proceeds further by subtly shaking the hose, causing its nozzle to wiggle around inside of Mike. The larger man’s legs turn weak from the teasing abuse of his prostate, forcing him to lean against Ricky’s bed again for support. After roughly a minute of this Arthur stops toying with Mike and completely removes the hose.

“Fuckin’... bastard…” Mike laughs through labored breaths. He quickly collects himself again and heads to the half emptied cart beside Ricky to finish off his meal. Though as he walks over he keeps his gaze locked on Arthur, plotting ways of getting even with him. 

“Alrighty, my turn,” Arthur declares over to Gordon as he lifts his shirt up over his head. Stripping further, he pulls the waistband of his pants down past his hips and ass, letting them drop the rest of the way on their own. He steps away from the discarded piece of clothing and bends over against the end of Ricky’s bed. His head lays in his arms while his pudgy belly and chest freely hang below him. With spread legs and his plump rump on full display he gives his ample rear a provocative shake, wiggling it back and forth.

“Shameless as ever,” Mike chuckles under his breath, amused with Arthur's little display. Arthur responds with his own chuckle before turning his head back to Gordon and telling him to go ahead.

Hose ready in hand, Gordon approaches and squats down by Arthur’s ass. Once more parting a sizable pair of cheeks for the pink ring hidden beneath. He gently probes the nozzle against it, easing the head of it to slip through. To Gordon’s surprise though once the tip of it has entered the surrounding muscles begin to coax the equipment deeper inside all on their own. Transfixed, the blond watches as inch after inch of the hose is slowly consumed by the insatiable hole. When it's down to the end of the nozzle Gordon gives the hose a cheeky little tug to let the man know to stop. With the hose secured Gordon takes the remote and sets the pump into motion.

“Ooo baby,” Arthur shivers as he lolls his head to the side, feeling the vaguely warm fluid begin to flood him. The sensation slowly climbs upwards till it hits its limit with his stomach at full capacity. Unfazed by the pressure inside himself Arthur lets out a relaxed sigh as the subtleties of growth begin to show.

Like rising dough every inch of Arthur slowly expands, though his position pools most of it downward. His billowing belly hangs lower and lower from his abdomen with each pulse of fattening fluid that enters him. His upper arms mimic its growth with gravity pulling them down as their volume increases. A good portion of the growth deposits itself into his soft chest. Making Arthur a little more top-heavy as they become exceedingly round and voluptuous.

Surprisingly, his plump ass and hips retain most of their shape. Expanding outwards rather than sagging down, though his legs probably assist that a lot. They’ve become massive pillars of support to hold up those monolithic spheres. Down below them his feet have swollen to develop cankles and the flesh of his calves threaten to overlap them.

His back looks like a developing landscape with all the ridges and rolls of fat that’ve grown along it. The hair across his body has started to become a little more sparse with his expanding flesh. His face begins to plump up too, giving him very chubby cheeks and another chin to frame his goatee.

When his breathing starts to turn labored and his legs begin to wobble from effort is when Arthur finally taps out. “Alright, that’s all I can take,” he concedes with a wave over his shoulder to Gordon. The other man promptly follows through with the request, using the remote to turn off the pump. Gordon kneels back down beside Arthur, waiting to see the shadow of the liquid recede down the hose before he begins to remove it. With a couple teasing wiggles the full length of the instrument is quickly extracted.

Now freed, Arthur begins to feel the weight of his newly enlarged body. With some effort he props his body up with his chunky arms. His tits really catch his attention with how prominently they obscure the view of his belly below them. A soft ‘ooo’ breaks his staring though, when Arthur looks up to see Ricky just as transfixed on his chest as he just was.

“See somethin’ ya like bud?” the older man coyly asks, using his hands up to lift and emphasize his breasts. Ricky gives a mindless nod in return with his encumbered hands twitching in a useless attempt to reach out and grab them. Amused, Arthur decides to take pity on him, lifting himself onto the bed right up to the young man. Now face to face with Arthur’s plump rack Ricky lets out a whine for the remaining distance to be closed.

“Please Papa~,” Ricky whines with a pleading glance up to the older man. Arthur laughs and rolls his eyes at the display, but gives into the plea anyway. 

Leaning forward into Ricky’s massive bulk Arthur envelopes Ricky’s head in his chest. The young man eagerly sniggles in, motorboating the two heavy sacks till his tongue comes out to taste the doughy flesh. After a minute, Arthur adjusts his chest so one of his nipples is right in front of Ricky’s mouth, to which the bed-bound man immediately latches onto. His lips work the sensitive skin around it while his tongue goes wild on its tip. 

Eventually Ricky calms down, content to gently suckle the pair of tits at his own leisure. Arthur relaxes into the moment as well. Tenderly combing his fingers through the young man’s hair and letting out the occasional soft moan as his nipples are played with.

While those two are occupied Mike makes his way around to Gordon who’s gathering up his equipment. “Here, let me help walk ya out,” Mike volunteers as he picks up a portion of the hose that’s at the room’s threshold. The pair work to gather its length through the house till they come to a stop at the front door.

“Well, I sure hope you guys enjoyed your delivery today,” Gordon remarks with a hint of sarcasm. 

“Oh we definitely did,” Mike chuckles. “I’m sure we’ll be shut-ins for the next week or two ‘enjoying’ or delivery,” he adds with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Good to hear. Also, I might recommend browsing our company’s clothing options,” Gordon cheekily responds with an obvious glance down to Mike’s enlarged figure.

“Yeah that might be a good idea,” Mike concedes, thinking how none of their wardrobes will remotely fit them anymore.

“Anyways, thank you for choosing ‘Build Your Bear’ and have a great rest of your day,” Gordon bids farewell with a tip of his cap as he leaves out the front door.

---

Well it's been roughly a year since my first 'Build Your Bear' story, so I thought it'd be right to follow through with the 'at home' services I eluded to back them. It was fun to revisit this world with a new batch of characters, and I'll definitely be back to it again with some new *holiday themed* ideas.

I'm really surprised how fast I wrote this story out, only took roughly a month and a half. Guess I had a good rhythm for it. Though there was a bit of a struggle in the beginning for solidifying a plot. I knew I wanted these characters, it was just deciding who I wanted to be fattened, how much, and their dynamic between each other. Like I thought of the inverse with three bear employees working together to really fatten up one guy. Another idea was the bears giving themselves over to a benefactor to live out a very pampered blobby life.

Maybe I could explore some of those avenues at a later point, but for now I'm happy with how this one turned out. Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope to post again sooner rather than later.

[fairlylocalkatiee]

HI feel free to ignore this but if you are open for requesting, I'd love a fic with Clancy and reader smut? Maybe Clancy coming back from a long mission away from the Bandito camp and reader is a Bandito/his partner who is just excited to see him, but Clancy is really pent up and barely gives them a chance to say hi before he's dragging reader off/away from the camp. Masked sex with possible deepthroating as Clancy fucks readers mouth ensues? Or pushes them against a tree? Either way the mask stays on because he doesn't have time and he's riled up >3

Clancy Comes (Back to Trench)

Word count : 1538

Ao3

Warnings: if you couldn’t tell based off the request this is pure smut!! You’ve been warned!

Enjoy 🤭

Energy in the camp buzzed with the announcement that Clancy was finally coming back to trench. Anxiety and excitement mingled inside you as you waited for him. He had been gone for weeks, on a mission to scout out Dema with a few other banditos.

You tried to keep your excitement off your face as you paced around camp aimlessly because no one except the Torchbearer knew about your relationship with Clancy. You had decided it would be better to keep it a secret in order to protect you in case the bishops ever came looking for something to hurt him indirectly.

Stopping near the large fire at the center of camp, you rubbed your bare shoulders, having forgotten your jacket back in the tent you were just wearing a plain white t-shirt, black cargo pants, and black boots.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of staring off into the darkness beyond the camp's border you spotted a tiny pinprick of fire moving its way towards you. It was the torchbearer leading Clancy back home. Everyone around you seemed to notice as well as they started to stir with excitement, no doubt hoping for good news from him about the rebellion. The pit that dug itself in your stomach everytime he left slowly started to fill itself in as he approached, he was safe. That’s all that really mattered to you.

As they strided into camp, loud cheers of excitement filled the air as they congratulated Clancy on another successful mission, you stood off to the side out of the way and watched, arms folded over your chest. While you wished you could run into his arms you knew that you had to keep your ruse up for a little bit longer.

“(Y/N),” you jumped when you heard your name, not realizing Clancy was now standing right in front of you, his eyes locked onto you which was all you could see apart from his mask. Scanning over you quickly before he grabbed your wrist and started pulling you away into the direction of the distant treeline on the edge of camp.

“Woah hey, is everything alright?” You said nervously as he pulled you along, he didn’t say anything but his grip tightened on you.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest with anxiety. The other banditos were definitely staring but you found yourself not caring. Once you had just made it into the cover of the trees, he released your wrist. His eyes locked onto yours with intensity as his hands started undoing with his belt Immediately your eyes widened when you realized what was about to happen, feeling a tingle between your legs as you swallowed in anticipation.

“On your knees (Y/N).” He commanded and you immediately fell, his tone leaving no room for argument as he spoke.

Your eyes locked onto his already evident bulge as he pulled his cock out of the confines of his pants, before his hand found the back of your head and pushed you forward.

You didn’t need any more encouragement than that, taking it in one hand you wrapped your lips around it, tasting the familiar tangy saltiness of him. Licking the precum off the tip and savoring the flavor.

Clancy groaned, throwing his head back against the tree, his hands wrapping themselves in your hair at the roots and tugging, making you moan around him. You worked on him with your tongue first, swirling and sucking on the sensitive tip before you felt him tug on your hair harder, urging you.

“Take my cock in your throat like the good girl I know you are, (Y/N).” He said as he pressed it deepe. Resisting the urge to gag on it, your eyes watered as you made eye contact with him.

He fucked your throat with little mercy, salvia dripping down your chin as you tried to keep

Your composure, bracing your hands on his hips as he fucked your mouth.

Pulling off him for a moment he let you catch your breath, “Touch yourself.” He commanded. Your heart stopped at his words and you felt yourself throb with need. Quickly undoing the button on your pants and slip a hand inside, pushing aside your soaked panties to find the throbbing bundle of nerves begging for attention.

“Mmm…” you moaned, feeling Clancy press his cock against your lips again impatiently, you pressed your fingers against your clit as he watched, his pupils blown out with lust.

Taking him in your mouth again you swirl your tongue in time with your fingers, Clancy's fingers knotting themselves in your hair taking full control of your mouth.

You could feel yourself building to your climax and just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Clancy snatches your wrist stopping your ministrations, and pulls his dripping cock out of your mouth as you try to catch your breath.

Kneeling on the ground, he positions himself between your legs as he yanks off your boots and unbuttones your pants before pulling everything off, baring your soaked center to him. He hooked your legs around his waist and positioned his cock against your entrance before snapping his hips into you in one quick motion, bottoming out inside of you with a guttural moan.

One hand dug into your hip and the other pressed against your clit making your writhe around him.

“Fuck, (Y/N), your cunt was made for me. Made to be fucked and filled by me.” He thrust into you at an impossible speed, making it impossible to stay quiet as you held your hand against your mouth to keep the whole camp from hearing you get your brains fucked out.

Lifting your hips up he adjusted the angle so he could thrust deeper into you, the new angle pressing deliciously against the spot that made your toes curl. With half lidded eyes you watched in a haze as he plowed into you, admiring just how gorgeous he looked even though you could only see his piercing glare through the mask.

You could feel the coil inside you tightening impossibly until it finally snapped, sending you over the edge with a mind numbing orgasm.

The feeling of you clenching around his cock was enough to send him over the edge too, gripping both legs with bruising strength and bottoming out inside of you as his cock pulsed with his release, sending hot spurts of cum deep inside you.

You fell back onto the grass with heaving breaths, Clancy untangling himself from you before standing up and readjusting himself into his pants.

He reached out a hand for you to grab and helped you stand on admittedly wobbly legs, then handing you your pile of discarded clothes to put back on.

Clancy leaned against the tree and silently watched as you redressed yourself, cringing slightly as the still soaked panties you had to put back on. You’d need to go to your tent to clean up as soon as possible.

Once you were fully dressed, Clancy stepped over to you, inspecting you closely and smoothing your hair.

You pulled him into a hug and buried your face into his chest, while he stood still, clearly surprised.

“I missed you, and I’m glad you're safe…” you said what you wanted to say before he pulled you away.

Looking up at him you met his eyes, he reached up and pulled off his mask, before capturing your lips in his for the first time in weeks.

You melted into the kiss as he held you, rubbing his hands along the bare skin of your arms.

“I missed you too, (Y/N). You’re all I could think about while I was gone… It was distracting.” He said with a small smirk. “Why aren’t you wearing a jacket?”

You hadn’t realized how much the temperature was dropping now that it was getting later in the evening.

“I just forgot it, and I didn’t want to miss you coming back.”

He smiled at you and sighed before stepping back and sliding off his black jacket, revealing his toned tattooed arms that you loved. holding it out to you, gesturing for you to let him help you put it on.

You eyed the bright red tape on the shoulders that only he had.

“Are you sure Clancy? I don’t want them to find out… you know, about us?”

“I don’t care (Y/N). If I cared I wouldn’t have pulled you away in front of everyone…” he trailed off as he slid the jacket onto you. It smelled so perfectly like him you fought the urge to take a deep whiff of it.

He smiled when he saw how you looked on his jacket. Cheeks flushed still from your encounter, he captured your mouth once more and kissed you deeply.

When you reluctantly pulled away he pressed one more soft kiss to your forehead, before he pulled his mask back on.

“Let’s get back to camp and get you warm.”

“Yes Sir.” You said a little mischievously, watching for a reaction and being satisfied when his eyes widened.

“Be careful with that mouth of yours (Y/N), you’re going to have a long night.”

——-

@oldiesstationlover11607 @soupiiiie @z0mbiekisses @anyaisop

comment if you want to be added to my tag list :)

Thankyou for your never ending patience with my slow writing I hope yall enjoy this!! I should be releasing 1 more Tyler x reader for Halloween 🤭 and then up next after that is plus size reader x josh! Can’t wait for you all to see what else I have planned! Requests are open cause I love getting ideas lol.

[jennay]

My Best Friend (5)

Authors Note: I’m working on this and Im ok with taking some requests id you guys have them too! Just read the rules please ❤️

Summary: Noah meets readers family and suddenly things make sense.

Words: 3400ish

Chapters- 1/2/3/4

Master List

You watch as Noah checks himself out in the full-length mirror by the door. His face is etched with worry, and you can hear the panic in his voice. “This isn’t it,” he mutters, tugging at his oversized white graphic t-shirt. He ruffles his dark, short hair, hoping it will fall into place and not look like he just rolled out of bed.

You stand up from the bed, your feet hitting the cold wooden floors as you lazily walk over to him. “We’ve been lounging in bed for two hours. We should’ve gotten up earlier if you were going to be this picky.” You stand beside him, bringing your hand up to the back of his hair. You run your fingers through the thick, silky strands, trying to tame the random waves. His eyes close, and he almost purrs under your touch. “There,” you say, slowly dropping your hand to your side. “That looks better.”

“I’m not prepared to meet everyone. Look at my clothes…” Noah chuckles, rummaging through his duffle bag with a playful grin. “I’m gonna be honest, Jolly made it sound like we were just chilling with your sister, and now I’m meeting your other siblings and your mom. I’ve only had 24 hours as your fake boyfriend—I need more practice!” He pulls out a few items, tossing them onto the bed with a dramatic flick of the wrist. “I just have to act like myself, right?” Noah’s eyes land on you, pleading for reassurance. “Right?”

You laugh, shaking your head as you watch him. “Right. God, I’ve never seen you this nervous. We’re just meeting them for pizza,” you assure him. “It’s not like you’re asking them to marry me or that we need to have a full make-out session. Just be yourself, maybe add a little more affection.”

Noah looks down at his outfit, a mix of an oversized white graphic t-shirt and bright, mismatched socks—one with black and gray polka dots and the other with black and gray stripes. “Do you think they’ll notice my socks?” he asks, wiggling his toes.

You giggle, “They might, but it’ll just add to your charm." You let out a deep sigh, "I should’ve told them I married Jolly. That would probably be more believable at this point."

Noah pretends to be hurt as he roughly grabs his plain black shirt and slides it over his head, “I can’t believe you’d even say that to me, as your fake boyfriend I’m offended.” He teases placing his hand over his heart. “Alright help me out, does this scream perfect boyfriend?” His laughter fills the room with warmth making you smile.

You throw your sweater over your head. “Screams, I’m on a road trip and I packed lightly, which is why,” you gesture to your skinny jeans and sweater, “I’m also dressed like this.” You playfully roll your eyes, but there’s a hint of anxiety in your voice as Noah finishes putting on his outfit. “Come on,” you say, reaching your hand out to him. “We can look like trash together.”

Noah smirks, grabbing hold of your hand and letting you lead him to the kitchen where Kyle and your niece are waiting with Jolly. “Figured we can follow them,” Jolly says sheepishly, sensing the tension.

You go straight to your niece and scoop her up in your arms. She squeals with excitement as you smother her face with kisses. You laugh, but it’s a bit forced, pulling back as she does the same to you. “I missed you soooo much,” you say dramatically, trying to mask your unease. “Thought you were gonna sleep the day away.”

Lily stares at you for a second, smiling widely before her gaze turns to Noah. She stares up at him with big wide eyes. “You’re big… like a tree.”

You giggle, and Noah nods in agreement. “It’s because I ate all my broccoli growing up. Miniature trees turned me into a giant tree,” he says, laughing and giving her a small boop on the nose.

“That was the worst advice, Noah,” you say, setting her back on her feet. “Not every girl’s dream is to grow up and be 6’3��.”

Lily giggles and looks back at Noah. “Do you have to water yourself too?”

Noah chuckles, “Only when I’m thirsty. And sometimes I need a little sunshine too.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Great, now she’s going to think she needs to sunbathe to grow taller.”

Lily looks at you with a mischievous grin. “Can I have ice cream to grow faster?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Nice try, kiddo. But I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

“Yeah no ice cream yet, sugar.” Kyle says smiling. “We aren’t quite ready yet, your sister and the baby should be ready soon.” He shoves a few more things into his backpack and whispers to Noah, “Don’t rush on the kids part.”

Jolly chuckles, “Noah… kids, yeah right.”

“Hey, I think we’ll meet you there,” you say to Kyle, trying to keep your voice steady.

“She should just be another minute or so,” he responds, glancing at his watch.

“It’s fine!” you say, suddenly feeling the weight of the stress on your shoulders. “I know where we’re going. I’ve literally been going there since I was a toddler…” You pause, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

Kyle nods softly, understandingly. “Alright.” He gently places a hand on your shoulder as you walk past, a reassuring touch that momentarily eases your anxiety. You nod, thanking him, but the knot in your stomach tightens.

As you head towards the car, you can’t help but think about the impending gathering. This wasn’t going to be a pleasant event. Your brothers, your mother, and your sister all in one room? The thought alone makes your heart race. Noah and Jolly would fully understand why you stopped visiting once this event was over.

You shut the driver’s side door with a heavy thud, the sound echoing your apprehension. Placing the keys in the ignition, the car roars to life, and loud music blares from the speakers, causing Noah to flinch. He quickly reaches for the volume button, turning it down.

“What was that?” he asks, hopping into the passenger seat, followed by Jolly sliding into the back.

“Yeah, you little weirdo,” Jolly teases, trying to lighten the mood.

You let out a deep breath, the weight of the upcoming encounter pressing down on you as you pull out of the driveway. “It was nothing,” you lie, your voice strained.

“Bullshit,” Jolly chuckles, but there’s a note of concern in his laughter. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”

“I know I’m learning new things about you, but I know when you lie,” Noah says, smiling, though his eyes are filled with worry.

“I love that you guys are excited, but I’m not. I don’t like this at all. Being with my family does not bring out the good in me.” You pause, gripping the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles turning white. “Either everyone is going to fake nice this shit, or all hell is going to break loose.” You stop at a red light, glancing at Noah, then back at the road. “This will be a shit-on-me fest. You’ll know things I never wanted to tell. Like when I was into drugs or using alcohol constantly… all the shitty, abusive boyfriends I’ve had… how I lied, stole, and cheated life.” You take a deep breath, trying to hold back tears. “This isn’t fun for me. This is why I didn’t want to come here.”

Jolly places a hand on your shoulder and you cringe under his touch. “You aren’t that girl anymore.” He gently reminds you.

Noah nods, “Yeah fuck em.” He says lightening the mood. “I’m sure their lives aren’t perfect either.”

As you drive, the familiar streets pass by, each one bringing back memories—some good, some you’d rather forget. The closer you get to your destination, the tighter the knot in your stomach becomes. You glance at Noah and Jolly, their presence a small comfort in the face of what’s to come.

“It’s gonna be ok.” Noah assures you.

You force a halfhearted smile as you pull into the parking lot, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. After parking, you turn off the engine and stare at the imposing building ahead. “Ready?” you ask the boys, your voice barely above a whisper.

Stepping out of the car, you wait for them to catch up. As you head towards the door, you’re slightly taken aback when Noah intertwined his fingers with yours. “What?” he asks, noticing your puzzled expression. “Aren’t we supposed to hold hands six months into our relationship?” he teases, a playful glint in his eyes. “I told you, I’m going to be the best fake boyfriend I can be.”

Jolly chuckles, holding the door open and motioning for the two of you to enter. “I can already feel your brothers’ hate,” he jokes, his laughter echoing in the air.

You playfully roll your eyes as you stride into the restaurant, the familiar buzz of chatter and clinking glasses filling the air. The aroma of freshly baked pizza and the hum of conversations create a comforting backdrop. From afar, you spot your family, beers already lined up on the table in front of them.

You wave as you approach, and everyone stands for hugs and introductions. For a moment, you love how normal this all seems. Your older brother steps forward with a confident grin. “Josh, you must be Noah!” he says, extending a hand. You notice the firm handshake but also the genuine smile on his lips.

“Yeah, man. I’ve heard all about you guys. Nice to finally put names to the faces,” Noah replies, pulling out a chair and gesturing for you to sit.

You smile as you take the seat, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. Noah sits next to you, casually draping an arm around the back of your chair, while Jolly takes the seat on your other side, already reminiscing about old times. You can almost see the wheels turning in Josh’s head, wondering what kind of chaos will ensue once your sister and older brother start interacting.

“This one looks hella normal. Are you ill?” your little brother, Benjamin, asks with a mischievous grin.

“Normal? That’s a first,” Josh quips, raising an eyebrow. “I was starting to think you only dated weirdos.”

Noah chuckles, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. He nuzzles into your neck playfully and plants a kiss on your cheek. “Did you hear that, babe? They think I’m normal,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Benjamin laughs, shaking his head. “Well, good luck and welcome to the family, Noah.”

Your mother, sitting at the far end of the table, raises her glass. “To new faces and old memories,” she toasts, her voice carrying a hint of nostalgia.

The conversation flows, filled with laughter and light-hearted banter. For a brief moment, you forget about the underlying tensions and just enjoy the company of your loved ones.

“Just wait until mom brings out the baby photos.” Josh says to Noah.

“Oh, great,” Noah laughs. “I can’t wait to see those.”

“Just make sure mom doesn’t show him the one where you tried to give the cat a bath,” Benjamin chimes in, grinning wickedly.

“Or the one where you thought wearing a tutu rollerblading was a good idea,” Josh adds, smirking.

“Okay, okay, enough with the embarrassing stories,” you say, laughing. “Before you scare him off.”

“Too late,” Noah jokes, squeezing your hand. “I’m already in too deep.”

Moments later, the door creaks open again, revealing your sister, her husband Kyle, and their two kids. They join the table, and Noah’s hand finds its way to your back, rubbing soothing circles. “Beers?” Kyle asks, pointing to you and the boys.

“I’m good with water,” Noah says, and you nod in agreement.

“Me too!” Jolly adds enthusiastically.

Kyle nods, “Three waters. One beer, one cider, and momma, are you good with your beer?”

Your mother nods, her eyes lingering on you. “No fun? Not even one beer?” she teases, a playful glint in her eye.

Before you can respond, your sister cuts in, “No, because then it turns into 2, 5, 10… blackout,” she says with a laugh that sounds lighthearted but carries a sharp edge, a reminder of your past.

You shake your head, feeling the familiar sting of judgment. “Here we go,” you mutter, leaning your head on Noah’s shoulder, seeking comfort in his warmth.

Noah rubs your shoulder, his touch gentle and reassuring. He kisses the top of your head. “I’m here,” he whispers softly, his voice a soothing balm against the rising tension.

“Oh god. We had to stop taking her to bars with us. She would just get so messed up and always end up with one of her trashy exes,” Josh says, taking a sip of his beer, his words cutting through the air like a knife.

Jolly glances nervously from your mom to your sister, clearly debating whether he should try to change the subject. But before he can say anything, you sit up straight, your eyes blazing with defiance.

“At least I can admit I have a problem…” you say, your voice steady and challenging. “Wild how all of you do the same thing, but I’m the one who gets shit on for it. At least I’m trying?” You shake your head, the frustration and hurt evident in your expression.

Noah’s hand moves to your back again, his touch grounding you. “Don’t let them get to you,” he whispers softly, his voice a soothing balm against the rising tension.

Josh, never one to miss an opportunity to stir the pot, points at Noah. “So, are you an alcoholic too?” he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“For fuck’s sake,” Ben mutters, propping his head on his elbows up on the table and leaning his head on his hands. “We haven’t even eaten yet. Can’t this wait until after?”

You’re listening to Ben’s words, but your cold stare still rests on Josh. His blue eyes are ice cold as he clinks his drink to your sister’s, and they giggle.

“C’mon. It’s just a joke,” Josh says, but you know it’s not a joke; it’s just another jab. “It’s all out of love.”

“That’s not love,” Noah mumbles under his breath, his hand still a comforting presence on your back.

Your mother, who has been silently observing, finally speaks up. “Enough. This isn’t the time or place for this,” she says, her voice firm but weary.

Josh rolls his eyes but doesn’t push further. The tension at the table is palpable, and you can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

Noah’s hand moves from your back to your hand, squeezing it gently. “Let’s just get through this,” he whispers, his eyes filled with concern and determination.

You nod, appreciating his support. The rest of the meal continues in strained silence, with occasional forced attempts at conversation. You can’t help but feel a mix of anger and sadness, but Noah’s presence beside you keeps you grounded.

As the evening drags on, you find yourself glancing at the clock, counting down the minutes until you can leave.

You feel icy blue eyes land on you again and you’ve noticed the more Josh drinks the more vicious he gets, “You know it makes sense that you’re dating him.” He says pointing to Noah, “He probably has all the conncetions to drug dealers, plus he’s loaded with money.” He smirks and goes back to eating his food like nothing happened.

Your mouth drops. You feel your chest tighten. “I wanna go,” you whisper to Noah. “I can’t do this.”

Noah’s eyes meet yours, filled with understanding and a hint of frustration. He nods slightly, his jaw tightening as he processes your words. You stand up without warning, looking around the table. This isn’t where you wanted to be, and this isn’t where you needed to be. These people weren’t your family; they were simply related to you.

Noah stands up next to you, his presence a comforting shield, and Jolly does the same. “We’re leaving.”

“Oh, here we go,” your mother chimes in. “You can’t let us have one dinner.”

Noah scoffs at the comment, his hand placed on your back as he pushes you forward, trying to ignore the comments. “You guys started this shit and want her to stay? Why, to be a punching bag? So you guys have someone to point the finger at to make yourselves feel better?” His voice is steady but laced with anger, his protective nature coming to the forefront. “It’s really not shocking why she never talk about you guys or why she doesn’t visit.” He pauses, his eyes roaming the group of people who look surprised by his words. “She doesn’t need you guys…she has us and other friends in California that treat her a million times better.”

You grab Noah’s hand, feeling the warmth and strength in his grip, and follow behind Jolly. “Let’s go, it’s not worth it,” you quietly say.

When you exit out the doors, you feel the fresh air hit you, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. Two men are staring at you, waiting for you to crack, but instead, you laugh, not believing what just happened.

“You see why I don’t come back? It’s the same shit every time,” you say, shaking your head, frustration boiling over. “I walk in, and it’s like I’m instantly transported back to being that screw-up they all remember. No matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

Jolly nods, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. “He was harsh,” he softly speaks, his eyes filled with concern.

You shake your head, your voice rising with emotion. “I get why he’s mad. I do. I wasn’t great, and he had to bail me out of shitty situations often. I just kept jumping into it again, time after time—rehab, hospitals, all of it, over and over. But I’m not like that anymore! I’ve changed, and I wish they would look at who I am now. But it’s like all they can see is who I used to be, and it’s suffocating.”

Noah looks at you, his expression softening. “You don’t have to prove anything to them, and they shouldn’t be that way toward you anyway. We’ve got your back, right?” He turns to Jolly.

Jolly nods in agreement. “Right.” He follows you toward the car, his steps light and carefree. “Hey… didn’t you grow up around here? Thrift shop and coffee time? Isn’t that on your list of things to do in every town?”

You laugh at his comment, remembering your pact. “You know the way to my heart.”

“I’m driving,” he declares, snatching the keys from your hand and pushing his sunglasses back on his face.

As Jolly skips goofily to the car, you feel Noah grab your hand, pulling you back for a brief moment. He places his hand under your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. His eyes lovingly stare into yours, causing a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. “I just want you to know… everything I said is true. Fake boyfriend, best friend… whatever. I got you. Always,” he says softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

You swallow hard, feeling a lump in your throat. “I know, Noah. Thank you.”

He smiles, a warm, genuine smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “Come on, let’s catch up with Jolly before he drives off without us.”

You follow him to the car, your mind racing. The thought that keeps replaying in your mind is terrifying. You weren’t growing feelings for Noah. Were you? The idea made you feel ridiculous. This was obviously your brain trying to get over Michael and move on as fast as you could. It was protecting it’s self from feeling any pain and Noah just happened to be there.

As you slide into the car, you steal a glance at Noah, who’s chatting animatedly with Jolly. Your heart aches with the weight of your unspoken emotions. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. This was just a phase, a fleeting moment of confusion. It had to be. You couldn’t let it be anything more.

[cherrycolored-punk]

for softember could you do argyle with the prompt “You look really good in my clothes.” and have it be smut? thank u!!

fight the feeling - argyle x fem!reader

author’s note: thank you for requesting this, it was so much fun writing for Argyle for the first time and to get my first ever request 😭 I hope this is what you were looking for and that you love it as much as I loved writing it xx

also big thanks to @trashmouth-richie and @rebelfell for helping me brainstorm this lil’ blurb 🥹🧡 I would still be staring at a blank doc if it weren’t for their big brains

w/c: 4.5k

warnings: smut (protected p in v), oral (Argyle receiving), fingering. Please let me know if I forgot anything 🍂

‼️ THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI ‼️

In the midst of fall, you wouldn’t be able to tell the season has changed in Lenora Hills. Palm trees stand tall amongst the evergreens and push into the cloudless night sky. The only indication that autumn has arrived is the chill in the breeze, the weather dipping to cooler temperatures each night. 

Tonight is the coldest so far. 

The breeze chases your fleeing frames as you and Argyle race up the stairs to his apartment. His butterscotch skin bitten red along the expanse of his exposed arms, turning a bright cherry as he rubs his wide palms over them. Impatiently waiting for you to open the door with the keys he’d given you at the start of the night, the dress he wore didn’t have pockets.

“Hurry up,” he grumbles, nudging you gently.

You look at him over your lashes, the breeze blowing the long black wig squeezing your skull into your face.

“No one told you to wear that dress,” you tease, giving him a once-over. 

He’s outfitted in a baby blue, daisy-printed dress with white reeboks. His long, dark brown hair is braided in two pigtails on either side. His impression of you this Halloween…or so he said. You don’t dare argue how accurate you think it is.

“I just chose something I thought you’d wear,” he quips.

“That’s a summer dress,” you tease and open the door. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize dresses had seasons,” he scoffs as he follows you and closes the door behind him. 

His apartment smells distinctly of him. The scent his clothes always have when he pulls you in for a hug. Bergamot, with a hint of jasmine and sandalwood. In the warm, manufactured air, the soft scent of the pumpkin and vanilla candle you’d gifted him mingles. It makes the place feel cozier, like a warm blanket being wrapped around your shoulders.

“Pretty sure it’s common sense that spaghetti straps are for the summer,” you continue, making yourself at home as you rifle through his cabinets in an attempt to find something to satiate your hunger.

He falls silent, his eyes tracing over your face and down the clothes you wear. 

It’s an outfit you thrifted to match his aesthetic, his clothes. A pair of light wash jeans, a wildly patterned top over a plain white shirt, and Adidas to match. You went over the top with the wig and snatched his favorite hat to top it off.

It’s like looking in a mirror. Trippy and throws him a little off balance. 

He can’t help the butterflies that take flight in his abdomen.

There’s something about seeing you in such similar garb that makes his mind wander, imagining what you’d look like in other things he owned. A white t-shirt, no bra or a pair of his boxers, no top. His thoughts quickly spiraling to how your skin would feel beneath his fingertips. Soft as he traced lines up your legs and beneath the fabric of the boxers he’d lend you. Skin smelling sweet like cinnamon. 

“Earth to Argy,” you wave a hand in the air, and only then does he realize he’s been staring.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat and averts his gaze, but you don’t miss how his cheeks blossom red.

“I said that I think we should order pizza, and I know someone who can still get us a pretty sweet discount at the best place in town,” your words are laced with a plea, and he shakes his head. 

“Y-yeah, I can call them,” he nods.

“Don’t forget,” you stop in front of him, resting your hands on his shoulders as though your next words hold the weight of the world, “pepperoni, pineapple, and jalapeños.”

He nods, a grin slotting into place as he looks at you. The only reason you even like that combination is because he introduced it to you. 

“How could I forget? That’s my order, dude,” he teases, reaching for the landline on the counter behind you. 

His body presses into yours briefly, the heat radiating from him and zipping to your core. You can’t help but stare at the length of his neck, hooded eyes watching how his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows and imagining the sounds he’d make if you planted your lips on the sensitive spot near his ear.

“Did you want anything else?” He questions, already dialing the number. Oblivious to the longing shining in your eyes or how you swallow harshly as you straighten your shirt. 

“Uh, no. Get whatever,” you shrug and point a thumb over your shoulder. “I’m just going to take a shower.” 

A cold shower. 

You press an absent hand on his forearm as you scoot past him.

“Coolio,” he nods, ”Just don’t use all of my soap like before,” he tries to joke, but his voice is strained, affected by the slight touch, and god, how can you not know what you do to him?

You stick your tongue out at him as you walk backward and to his bathroom. 

A total brat, he thinks, but even that is shrouded in some rose-colored haze. Affection clouding his thoughts.

He waves you off with an absent hand, purposefully averting his attention so he isn’t caught staring again.

You manage to appear casual, like you’re not still thinking about his body pressed against yours, until the bathroom door is closed and your back is pushed against it. You turn your head, a caricature of Argyle stares back at you in the mirror, questioning what the fuck you’re doing. 

He’s your best friend. 

Panic sets in, and you slam your eyes shut, chin tilting to the ceiling.

Over the years, you’d managed to push down any thoughts of your crush, but the feelings you’d long ignored were now rearing their ugly head. 

Vivid images of tangling your fingers in his hair, the plush of his lips pressed to yours, or how his hands would feel venturing over the curves of your body, gripping and kneading.

White hot need zips through you, and you let out a frustrated sigh. He’s just a friend, your best friend, and best friends don’t think about kissing or groping or how they’d feel inside you. 

You push off the door as the thoughts begin to spiral and reach a hand into the shower, ensuring the water is ice cold.

Quickly, you strip down and step into the frigid water—all thoughts of Argyle circling the drain along with the globs of soap you use. 

——

Twenty minutes later, you emerge from the shower, body still buzzing with need but not as loud as before. 

Argyle sits on the couch, hair hanging in waves from his undone braids, and his dress is exchanged for his usual garb: a pair of checkered parachute pants and an oversized Jimi Hendrix t-shirt.

Two boxes of pizza sit unopened on the coffee table, their aroma filling the living room. Basil, garlic, and the subtle sweetness of the pineapple.

“It’s already here?” You question, stomach grumbling and laser-focused on getting a slice.

He glances up, tracing his eyes over your now-exposed legs. Unable to fight the way his jaw goes slack when he sees you wearing a pair of boxers and the white shirt from before.

When he doesn’t respond, you look up at him with a face twisted in confusion. 

“What? It’s all I had,” you shrug, suddenly self-conscious, and play with the hem of the boxers you’d bought for the costume.

He’s still quiet, gawking as you settle beside him on the lumpy green couch he’d gotten from Salvation Army. 

“Stop staring. I know I look dumb,” you grumble, and it’s as if he’s just realized you’ve been speaking. 

“Not at all,” he shakes his head and turns to face you, “I think you look really good in my clothes,” he teases.

Though the words might be a joke, your heart still slams against your ribcage, and all you can do is roll your eyes to hide the effect they have on you.

“They’re not even your clothes,” you say weakly.

“Doesn’t matter, you look good,” he responds without missing a beat, the words fumbling from his mouth before he can think better of it. His hands itch to reach out and touch you, still wondering if you’re just as soft as he’s always imagined.

A moment passes, a charged silence filling the room as you try to process what he said because there’s no way he meant it the way you want him to.

“Shut up,” you nudge his head.

As you pull away, his hand reaches out. Gentle fingers circling your wrist.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you look back at him, slightly flustered. 

“What are you doing?” You all but whisper, and it feels like you’re running a fever under his gaze. His molten honey eyes filled with sweetness and an emotion you’d never seen. At least not directed at you. 

“I just,” he starts, but he’s distracted, unable to finish a sentence. His gaze flicks to your lips, and he licks his own

His eyes drift back to meet yours, measuring your response and making sure you want this, too. 

Even though you shouldn’t. 

God, you know you shouldn’t.

He’s your friend, he’s your friend, he’s your friend.

The two of you lean in, resembling two magnets unable to resist the pull. The rest of the world begins to fade, all coherent thought silenced by the overwhelming need to kiss him, and you can tell he feels it, too.

He reaches a hand forward and cups your jaw, a thumb resting on your chin as he pulls you closer. 

You tilt your head, breath catching in your throat as you anticipate the kiss. His mouth hovers above yours, the seconds ticking slower, and your eyes flutter shut. You’re sure you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

Goosebumps sprout along your arms when lips finally press to yours, soft and sweet. Argyle takes his time, memorizing how your bottom lip curls into a smile beneath the kiss and dedicating the sound of your eager sighs to memory.

His other hand reaches out and holds your hip, fingers spread wide. The warmth of his palm felt through the thin fabric of your t-shirt.

Electricity courses through your veins as the kiss intensifies, and you wrap a hand around the back of his neck. Fingertips curling in his hair as the other pulls him closer by the front of his shirt. Hesitant lips now hungry for more. 

Your tongue slides along his bottom lip, begging for entrance. Needing to taste him. 

The soft flesh of his tongue slides against yours, a small groan escaping his lips at the sensation. His grip on your hip tightens as he leans back against the couch's cushion, pulling you along. You willingly climb into his lap. Lips still latched to his in a frenzied kiss. It’s no longer sweet. It’s teeth and tongue—an untamed need. 

Your fingers knot into the long locks as you give a tentative roll of your hips, pulling softly. Sighing into his mouth when you feel the evidence of his growing arousal push against your clothed center. 

Argyle groans louder than before. Losing himself in your touch and the warmth coming from your aching cunt.

His hands cup your ass, fingers digging into the fat of it as he guides your hips against his hardening dick.

There’s nothing but primal need coursing through your veins, and you lose yourself in it.

You pull away, already reaching for the hem of his shirt and pushing it up with a silent question in your eyes.

Is this okay?

He nods, helping you lift it.

The shirt gets tangled in his limbs as you try to lift it over his head, and you can’t help but chuckle at his display.

“So graceful,” you tease, lifting it over and off. 

His hair is in disarray, strands standing on end and tangled. He smiles at you as you rub your palms up his torso, electricity shooting from the skin of his abdomen into your hands.

You don’t hide how you admire him, tracing his familiar frame with new eyes. A gaze that can openly appreciate the softness of his abdomen and the hair lining his chest. His skin dotted with tiny freckles.

“Shut up,” he tries to admonish, voice filled with affection. His hands grip either side of your hips as you lean closer. Looking for a hint of doubt.

Was it a one-time kiss? 

A lapse in judgment?

The way his fingers grip your hips as your lips ghost over his says otherwise. 

You gently swipe the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip, teasing. Taking your time. A soft nip of your teeth and a slight tug until it’s too much. 

He raises his hand, holding your face close, and his mouth is on yours again. Kiss less hesitant than the first, more confident with every push and pull. You get lost in it. Hands pressed against his bare skin as your hips roll of their own accord. Seeking friction and finding his hardened arousal once again. He moans into your mouth, a delicious sound that makes your core ache with need. You test the waters, grinding against him with a little more purpose. Sliding up the length of his clothed erection, humming as it catches your bundle of nerves just right. But you need more, and you pull away. Lust-filled eyes taking him in.

“Do you have a condom?” 

Argyle’s eyes widen, and he stills, his thoughts trying to catch up with your question but his silence feels like uncertainty.

“I-if you want to, I mean,” you say weakly, and he’s already nodding.

“I want to,” he says with conviction, already pushing you off his lap and reaching into one of the drawers of the coffee table.

“Oh my god, you keep condoms in your living room?” You tease him to conceal the way your stomach flips, how your nerves are starting to creep in.

“You don’t?” 

Your mouth opens to respond, words cut off when he fishes a Trojan out and looks at you with his cinnamon eyes. Cheeks blushed and lips bruised—the sight of him making your stomach do somersaults.

Tiny sparks of electricity bubble in the air as the tension grows, and you grab the condom from him. One hand grips the foil, and the other traces a line down his abdomen, holding his gaze as they inch lower until they stop at the tops of his pants. 

You push an eyebrow up in a question, already knowing the answer. A satisfied smile playing on your lips as he shifts to help take the fabric off. 

Anticipation stirs in your stomach, your mouth watering to see what he looks like after feeling him through his pants, and you can’t help the small moan that escapes when his cock jumps free. 

He’s bigger, thicker, than you’d imagined on those nights when you were knuckle deep, one hand on your tit and his name on your lips.

His tip shines with precum, the sight making your mouth water and you lean closer. Argyle watches you with hooded eyes, one hand gripping the couch and the other creating a path down your back until he’s gripping your ass.

You stick out your tongue, tracing over the angry vein lining the underside of his shaft. Taking your time as you inch up and to his tip. Tongue swirling along the mushroom head and collecting the pearly liquid, savoring the taste of his tangy arousal as it sticks to your tongue. 

A satisfied hum catches in your throat as you wrap your lips around his head, inching down his length and bobbing back off. Building up his need, enjoying the way his hips buck and chase your mouth. You slap his cock against your tongue, allowing saliva to collect and dribble down until his hardened arousal is coated. Drool dripping into his balls. You look up, a satisfied smirk slotting into place when you see the look in his eyes. How his gaze is darkened with need. Slowly, you begin to stroke him, starting up and going down. Watching him as you wrap your lips back around his tip and gently suck, tongue swirling as you do.

His head falls back with a loud groan, no longer able to conceal his mounting pleasure. You inch him further into your mouth until he sits in the back of your throat. 

Your movements are slow and deliberate. Lifting your head up and down with your hand following. With each bob of your head, you increase your pace. Enjoying how his hand grips your hair, holding you to him but not pushing you down. Watching with eager eyes as you gag around his cock, lines of saliva coating your knuckles with every dip of your head.

He releases the grip on your ass, and you all but whine until you feel the tips of his fingers push under the boxers you wear. Your movements still, attention focused on the way his fingers trace up the cheek of your ass and parts your center.

You moan around his cock, cunt clenching at the thought of him stretching you with one of his digits. 

Argyle swipes his middle finger along your folds, groaning when he feels how wet you are. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, collecting your nectar.

His finger presses against your sensitive nub, a soft swirl that has you keening. Hips pushing against his hand and chasing the slowly mounting pressure. 

You start sucking him more sloppily, gagging as you take him deeper. Ass pressing into his hand in a silent plea. His finger traces back up, nudging your entrance.

Argyle sucks in a breath as your pussy pulls him in, walls wrapping around his digit.

“Holy fu-” he sighs as you moan around his cock, stilling for a moment. Attention focused as his finger slides in and out of you, teasing you as you teased him. 

You wiggle your hips, needing more, and he obliges. Adding another finger, the sweet stretch makes you groan. The pace of his fingers grows until the sound of your squelching pussy fills the room. 

Your mouth matches the pace he sets, sucking his dick with a new intensity as he curls his fingers and fucks them into you. 

“Oh my god,” you mewl, mouth still wrapped around his dick.

He pulls them from you suddenly, pulling you up from his cock before you can whine from the loss and onto his lap. His mouth is on yours in a fierce kiss, hands pushing your shirt up and pulling apart to take it off. 

Argyle pauses, breaths coming in quick succession as he stares at you. Ogling the curve of your breasts. He glances up, holding your gaze as he reaches a hand out to trace over them. Enjoying the way you shiver under his touch, nipples pebbling in response to his warm hands as they cup your heavy flesh. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises, looking back down and pressing a kiss to your sternum, “like a fucking angel.” 

The compliment makes heat spread to your cheeks, and you curl his hair around your finger.

“You’re pretty cute,” you shrug, in an effort to be nonchalant. Teasing him as you always had, but even to your ears, the words sound different. Loaded with the affection you’d always had for him and could no longer hide.

He smiles up at you, a wide and goofy grin that takes up his whole face. The kind you only saw when he was really happy. 

“Pretty cute, huh?” He questions from between your breasts. He reaches up and teases your nipple between his fingers, tugging gently and watching the way your eyebrows marry in the middle. 

You nod, using his chest to hold your weight up above his cock, and you curse that you are still wearing bottoms.

As though he can hear your mind, he traces his hands down your back and to the elastic of your boxers. He inches them off of you, and you maneuver them off until you’re bare in front of him. 

There’s a charged silence between you as the seconds tick by. The weight of your need almost suffocating, and you reach out a nervous hand for the condom. Argyle grabs it from you and tears it open with his teeth, pulling the rubber from the foil to quickly roll it onto his length.

“Coolio,” he chuckles, but it sounds strangled, and grabs your waist with nervous hands. 

You rest one hand on his shoulder and reach the other between your bodies, lining his length up with your entrance. 

His grip on your waist tightens as you begin to sink onto him, a loud moan escaping your lips as you begin taking him inch by inch. Argyle’s thick cock stretches you, a delicious burn that makes your teeth sink into your bottom as he bottoms out inside you. 

“Feel so fucking good,” he groans, leaning you back so he can really look at you. His brown eyes trace your face and down your frame before stopping where the two of you are connected. You can feel his dick bounce inside of you at the sight and gasp. 

You raise your hips, lifting off of him and back down in slow motions as you continue to adjust to his size. His hands remain on your hips, guiding you up and down. Only picking up pace once he realizes you’re ready. 

Your hips swirl as you sink back down, enjoying how his face contorts in pleasure and the moan that vibrates in his chest. You continue to ride him, leaning into his chest as you bounce up and down his shaft. The lewd sound of your ass slapping against his thighs spurring your movements. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he encourages, fingertips squeezing your ass. “Ride ‘em, cowboy,” he jokes, and you swat his chest playfully with a roll of your eyes.

“Shut up,” you gasp between heavy breaths, a smile on your lips.

Argyle lifts his hips to meet yours and grips your ass tight as his cock drills into you at a brutal pace. He watches the way your tits bounce, how you throw your head back and moan.

His name is on your lips like a mantra as pleasure courses through your body. You reach a hand down to your clit, rubbing circles against the bud that has you bucking forward as you chase your release. 

Before you have time to process, he has you on your back and legs spread wide. Cock still plunged deep into your pussy. His lips are on yours, hungry and needy as he thrusts into you. His pelvic bone jutting just right against your clit with every thrust. 

He groans into your mouth, hips stuttering but not slowing as he continues to fuck into you. Reveling in the way your pebbled breasts feel bouncing against his chest.

“Argyle,” you moan, nails digging into his back. 

“Are you close, beautiful?” he gasps, his hair falling around you like a curtain.

The pressure in your center builds, toes curling as you get closer and closer to the edge. He pushes away, rolling his hips into you and reaching between your bodies. Argyle rubs a thumb against your clit, mean circles that make your back arch and eyes slam shut as the pleasure begins to course through you.

It’s like a tidal wave, pleasure dragging you down until nothing else exists except the pulsing in your center. His pace doesn’t slow, hips pushing into yours. Thumb still circling your bundle of nerves until your legs begin to shake. 

“Oh my god,” you whine, pulling him back against you. The weight of his body on yours adding to your pleasure.

Argyle groans, and you feel his body still. Bucking into you once more as the orgasm washes over him. 

Your name is on his tongue in soft whispers, and you trace the goosebumps sprouting along his arms.

Seconds pass, the only sound of your heavy breaths as each of you tries to come down to earth.

“What was that?” you laugh, a soft rumble he feels with his chest pressed against yours. He chuckles along with you, face pushed into the crook of your neck. Warm breath fanning your sweat-slick skin.

“You, like, mauled me,” he teases, and you nudge his arm—no strength to argue.

He kisses your shoulder, your collarbone, and up to your lips. He plants a few against your mouth before lifting off you. Argyle looks down, watching as he pulls his length from your center. A sharp hiss that matches yours escapes his lips at the loss of you wrapped around him. He leans back down and kisses your stomach before pushing off you entirely.

He reaches for your shirt, motioning with his hands for you to lift your arms so he can push it over your head. You smooth your hair out and grab his shirt to repeat the action, each of you taking time to dress each other. A kiss shared between each layer of clothes that is put back on until you both sit fully clothed.

Cold pizzas on the comfy table, a candle burned down to the wick, and an apartment that smells like pumpkin, and vanilla. The aroma of your sex. 

You run your hands over your arms, unsure of what to say.

“Should we talk about it?” You question, half-hiding your face and afraid of his response.

He leans over and reaches for a blunt on his coffee table, lighting its end. Argyle inhales deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling and looking back at you.

“If you want to,” he shrugs because he already knows he’s sunk.

“You don’t?” Your words are tinged with surprise, and your eyebrows push together when he shakes his head.

“I don’t need to,” he offers you the blunt, but you shake your head. Mind still hazy from the feel of his lips and the push of his hips.

 “No?” you ask, puzzled.

Argyle pulls you close, your face nuzzling in his chest as he rubs an absent hand along your spine. 

“Took you long enough to see what a catch I am,” he jokes, “but I’ve always known about you.”

“Known what?” you grin, twisting your body to get a better look at him.

“That I’m cute, smart…funnier than you?” you poke his stomach, looking at him over your lashes. Eyes shining fondly.

He laughs, throwing his head back and blowing out a puff of smoke before looking back at you.

“I’ve always known how I feel about you.”

The response makes your next joke get lodged in your throat, and you swallow it down, grinning to yourself. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods, and you don’t need him to say more. To say the three little words aloud for you to know what he means.

“But you’ll never be funnier than me.”

“Such a butthead,” you nudge him playfully and lean forward to press a kiss to his lips. Already making it a habit.

[acaaai-t]

in another world

gn! reader x scaramouche

cw: angst, hurt/no comfort, major character death

The stars were cruel and unrelenting. He had come to learn the hard way.

There was nothing he could do, as he watched you link arms with someone else that wasn’t him. The smile you gave them was meant for him, not for the loser that captured your heart. His nails dug into the palms of his hands, skin on the verge of breaking.

But what was he to do?

He was dead. Gone.

…

Perhaps in another reality, he was well and alive, spending the precious moments with you.

He’ll still be yours, and in turn, you’ll be his.

The two of you will travel the world together, and he’ll take you to the highest cliff of Mondstadt, where he had laid out a small blanket upon the grass. Baskets and plates of food he had cooked himself sits neatly upon the checkered sheets, its aroma alluring you in. Cecilas dotted the plains, the white specks of floral inviting the presences of the butterfly and bees. “Surprise,” he said, giving you a crooked smile.

He’ll have to fight back a laugh as he watches you trip over a camouflaged root somewhere in the heart of Sumeru’s forest, only helping you up when he was done laughing at your clumsy mistake. You’d whine and playfully punch him, but he’ll dodge out the way and catch in a tight hug, muttering sorry’s and I love you’s.

He’ll be on one knee, the sand digging into his skin, a camera held up as he playfully shouts at you to stay still for the picture— the image of you standing underneath a canvas of the sunset in the beaches of Fontaine, wind gently tugging at your hair, giggling as you watch your beloved struggle.

Click!

He’ll be the one to paddle the tiny canoe that he had scrounged up in an old shed around the bioluminescence beach in Inazuma. And you’d be sitting across from him, eyes bright and curious, laughter spilling from your lips as you watched the stars dance along with the shimmers in the sea. The moon hung high in the skies, blanketing you with a soft white glow.

He’ll be the one to introduce you to his family, your fingers anxiously fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt as the two of you stand outside the large brass door, waiting. You tell him that you’re nervous, and he reassures you that everything will be fine. His family will adore you. And even if they don’t— which isn’t true— he’ll still take you as his lover, because there is nobody else in the entirety of Teyvat that he wants.

It’ll be the first night of the annual lantern rite, and he’ll take you to a secluded area within the trees to release lanterns of your own. Sweet promises scribed in the lantern that captures a glimpse of your future with him, the path that you’re willing to take down with him.

…

You were his first everything, just as he was your first everything. So when Scaramouche had suddenly departed from your side, it left you in a crumbling wreck of emotions.

He hated seeing you like this. Eyes puffy and red from all the crying, voice hoarse and body weak.

He hated even more the sight of you with someone else, all lovey-dovey.

Yet seeing you finally open up to someone new brought him a sense of relief. He may not like it, but if it meant that you’ll finally stop sobbing your heart out every night, that you’ll finally regain that bubbly personality of yours, that you’ll find that light to guide your path— he was willing to accept the loss.

Still, it was unfair.

Maybe in my next life, he whispered, words carried away by the wind, falling deaf to the wonders of nature.

✩ ·┆ masterlist

notes—

— (it’s been a year daddy) :: jokes aside, junior year had been insane, and I’ve been stu(dying) for the upcoming SAT while also trying to write a book of my own WHILE looking for internships, maintaining good grades, stressing about EVERYTHING… you get the idea... ending was slightly rushed sorry 🫶

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

[totowlff]

chapter seventeen — i'm not entirely to blame

➝ it's so easy to lie to yourself...

➝ word count: 3,5k

➝ warnings: mentions of smut

Toto lived in an extremely quiet, charming neighborhood just outside of Oxford, in a little hamlet called Boars Hill. His house was set on two acres of land that was mostly surrounded by trees, with a spacious and well-maintained back garden. Since the first time Cassie had visited his house, when Ingrid was still just an idea in their heads, she had a good feeling about it. She could even see herself walking down the narrow country roads pushing Ingrid in her pram, or watching Ingrid romp around the back garden as she and Toto sat watching her in chairs on the patio, just like a real family.

“No, Cassie, we’re not a real family”, she scolded herself as she made a left turn onto Bedwells Heath, looking carefully through the trees for Toto’s drive. She’d missed it once or twice before. 

It wasn’t that they weren’t already a family of sorts; they’d come together to have a child, which meant they would be linked together in something resembling a familial unit, just not in the traditional sense. They were just friends, who were going to be parents together, but without the affection couples normally had for each other.

Except, though, sometimes their feelings for each other, at least for Cassie’s part, felt bigger than she would be willing to admit. 

Plus, there was the sex…

The memory of Thursday night sent a rush of heat running over Cassie's skin. After bringing her to climax twice and giving her a few minutes to catch her breath, she felt the same heat as before. Just as she was going to remark on the sensation, she was interrupted by Toto as he kissed her again, his hands holding her tightly before sliding to the spot between her legs and making her come a third time.

However, when Cassie made a move to return the favor, Toto stopped her.

— Tonight is about you, Cassie. Just about you.

As she parked her car in front of Toto’s house, she clenched her jaw as she remembered the way he had cleaned her up and put her to bed, kissing her gently on the forehead before he left her flat, ignoring her pleas for him to stay. Seeing him leave hurt more than it should have, but there was nothing that could be done.

Toto would never be hers completely.

As she stepped out of the car, she looked up at the front of the house, admiring the traditional-yet-modern exterior, especially the way the front of the house looked like a circular tower, with a large panoramic window on the top floor. A vision popped into her mind — she and Toto sitting on the sofa together, his arm around her shoulders, her snuggled into Toto’s side. No work to do, no races on the other side of the world to get off to, just the two of them enjoying each other’s company, watching their daughter play with dolls or blocks on the colorful area rug as a summer rainstorm rolled through the meadows surrounding Boars Hill. 

A perfect, quiet afternoon. 

She shook her head as she pressed the button for the doorbell, chiding herself for letting her imagination get carried away again. A few seconds later, it opened, revealing the smiling face of the house’s owner. 

— You know you don't need to ring the doorbell, right? — Toto said, smiling. He was wearing a chambray button-down and a pair of loose-fitting khaki trousers. His shirt was completely unbuttoned, exposing a plain white t-shirt underneath. To Cassie’s surprise, he was also wearing a pair of glasses with round, black frames. She wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him dressed quite so casually. Even when he had accompanied her to the clinic, he tended to wear a pressed Oxford shirt and some sort of dress trousers. She knew he occasionally wore glasses, but it was rare.

— I didn’t want to seem presumptuous  — Cassie replied — Besides, I don't live here.

— Not yet. But you will.

— Temporarily.

— Yes, but I still hope you see it as home while you’re here — he replied, opening the door wider — Come in and make yourself comfortable, please. 

With a small smile on her face, Cassie walked past him, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. Leaving her bag in the entrance hall, she waited for Toto to close the door to follow him through the house, stopping for a few seconds to look at the compass rose tiled into the floor of the entranceway. She had always found that detail of the house very charming.

— Are you hungry? I can make some tea before…

— It’s fine. I ate before leaving home.

— Are you sure?

— I'm fine, really — she replied, trying to reassure him.

Toto let out a sigh.

— Well, if you don't need anything, could you come upstairs with me?

Cassie nodded, following Toto up the stairs to the second floor, where the nursery was. He had shown it to her in the first few weeks of her pregnancy. However, instead of turning right, towards the door of the nursery, he turned left, opening the door and asking her to step inside.

 It was a large suite with a king-size bed facing a large window, which had an impressive view of the garden at the back of the house. There were also two armchairs next to a fireplace, as well as a large painting above it of an Alpine landscape, perhaps in Austria. Staring at the painting Cassie realized which room she was standing in.

— Why are we here in your bedroom?

— Because it will be yours. Well, while you're here.

She blinked.

— But… This is your bedroom, I couldn’t possibly…

— There are three other bedrooms I can sleep in. It’s no trouble.

— Toto, I can’t…

— Cassie, you need to be comfortable, especially after the birth. This room is big, has a very comfortable bed and a private bathroom en suite. Also, it’s the one that’s closest to the nursery.

— I don't need a big room. Any place will do, even the nursery. We can have the decorator put…

He shook his head.

— No, we’re not going to put your bed in the nursery.

— But if I stay in the nursery I’ll be close to…

— You won’t be able to get any rest if you stay in the nursery, Cassie. You won't sleep because you'll be keeping an eye on the baby. You know that being fatigued will not help you recover after the baby is born, and it will just make taking care of her more difficult.

Cassie clenched her jaw and looked away from him. He wasn't wrong. If she was with Ingrid constantly, she’d be on high-alert at all times, and wouldn’t ever be able to get any rest, even when she needed it. She would hate for something bad to happen to the baby because she was tired.

— Okay — she conceded — I'm not going to sleep in the nursery, you’re right. But, I'm not going to take you out of your bedroom. I can stay anywhere else, but not here.

Toto sighed.

— Okay, come with me.

The two went to another bedroom, a little smaller, but no less comfortable-looking. The minimalist, almost-generic decor gave the impression that it was just a guest room, not used very often; everything looked almost brand-new.

— The only problem with this room is that it doesn’t have a private bathroom, so you will have to use the one in the hallway. Otherwise, it’s just as nice as the master bedroom. 

— It's great — she smiled, heading over to the bed and sitting on the mattress to try it out. Toto sat next to her, a small smile on his face.

— I'll ask Bertha to get everything ready for you to settle in next week.

— Next week? — Cassie said, her eyes going wide.

— Yes, so you have time to get comfortable and…

— Toto, I was going to move in after I’m discharged from the hospital with the baby, I couldn’t possibly…

— But there are so many things for us to do before the baby arrives — Toto exclaimed — We have to tidy up the nursery once it’s ready, buy more clothes, get the car seat, get all of the baby’s things organized, pack your bags for the hospital, you still have doctor’s appointments, we have to go to visit the maternity ward…

— I don't need to move here for that.

— And how are Bertha and I going to help you organize things if you’re not here?

Cassie raised an eyebrow.

— With your hands?

Toto gave a sarcastic laugh.

— Very funny.

She laughed.

— I know.

— The point is that, with you here, it will be easier to make decisions about things, especially regarding organization and routine in the first few days. Furthermore, I —Toto hesitated for a few seconds.

— You… What?

— I wanted to enjoy this time with you. You know, the…Nesting period, I think they call it. Plus, doing things for Ingrid without you is strange. Every time I buy things for the baby, the salespeople ask where my wife is, so I lie and say that it is for a friend’s daughter, because if I tell them it is for my daughter, they will want to know more about her, and I don’t want them to get the wrong idea and that they will think trying to have a family this way is strange, and…

Cassie sighed in frustration, taking Toto’s hand in hers.

— We're not doing anything wrong, Toto. We are only doing what we want, which is having a family. Just because we’re not doing it in the most traditional manner doesn’t mean we’ll be any less of a family. Trust me, a traditional family isn’t always a happy one. I am speaking from experience, so trust me on that.

He looked at her, a small smile on his face.

— But we can do things better, Cassie.

Something inside her jumped, her heart pounding in her chest.

— Better?

— Yes. Move in with me.

— Toto…

— I'll feel a lot better if you're here, and Bertha can help keep an eye on you when I'm traveling.

— Toto, I'm not a child who needs to be supervised.

— But you have a child inside you. And she needs to be supervised.

— Yes, by me.

— And by Bertha — he said, giving one of those mischievous smiles that made her heart race. Seeing Cassie rolling her eyes, he added — And there's no point in making that face, Cassandra.

— You sound like I'm incapable of taking care of myself...

— I’m only saying this because I am concerned about the well-being of the woman who — he paused for a few seconds, as if he was evaluating the words he was going to use before continuing — Is pregnant with my daughter. That's all, Cassie.

Cassie was about to answer him when the doorbell rang downstairs. Toto stood up, saying that he was going to meet the decorator and she should wait for them in the nursery. Walking down the hallway with one hand resting on her stomach, she tried to shake off the anxiety that was building up by breathing deeply.

When she stepped into the nursery, she was a little surprised by the amount of things in the room already. In addition to the stroller, baby carrier, and the package of things from Mercedes-Benz that Ola had sent them after Toto had told him he was going to be a father, there were bags of baby clothes, and several boxes printed with the logo of a well-known toy shop in London. She had pulled a onesie out of a bag to look at, running her fingers over the screen printed lettering that read “future CEO” on it when she heard footsteps behind her.

— Well, this is the room — Toto said to the woman next to him. She was quite a bit shorter than him, with dark hair, styled into a pixie cut. She had glasses with dark-rimmed frames, and was holding a briefcase in one hand and a tablet in another.  — And this is... Cassandra.

She dropped her clothes and went to the designer, smiling.

— Nice to meet you, Cassandra — she said, extending her hand to shake — I'm Taylor.

— Likewise, Taylor. You can call me Cassie, by the way.

— As you wish, Cassie — the woman replied, smiling — Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to just ask a few questions so I can get to know both of you. For starters, how long have you been married?

Toto’s eyes went straight to the floor, and Cassie noticed it. He was definitely uncomfortable with that question. And that was what made Cassie smile at the woman.

— A few months. We decided to make it official after we discovered the little one was on its way.

The response made Toto look up suddenly, looking somewhat shocked at what she had said. However, if Taylor had noticed that reaction, she didn't notice it.

— Oh, that's great. And have you lived here for a long time?

— I moved here in 2012 — he answered. His entire demeanor had changed since her arrival. If he was cheery before, now he seemed distant and distracted — I did some renovations, but nothing major or thinking about a function for this specific room.

Taylor walked around the room a bit, taking photos with her phone, analyzing the walls and the window for a few seconds. Placing her bag on the floor, she took the tablet and its stylus out of its case. After a few taps, she began to scribble something on the device's screen, a thoughtful expression on her face.

— Is the baby a boy or a girl?

— Girl — Cassie replied.

— Do you have anything in mind regarding decoration or colors?

— No pink — Cassie replied, definitively — No unicorns and rainbows.

The woman smiled slightly, writing something down on the tablet. Then, she began to explain the ideas, as well as the trends that could be incorporated into the room and that would make their routine with the baby easier. She also discussed some of the pictures of cribs, closets and changing tables that Toto had sent her. Finally, she asked if they had a theme in mind or if they were thinking about something neutral.

— Well, I do — Cassie said, making Toto look at him — When we decided to become parents, the first thing Toto did was buy a plush bunny, and I don’t know why, but… It has stuck with me. I think that would be cute.

— Do you agree, Toto?

— Yes. Maybe something with rabbits — he mumbled, crossing his arms. 

After asking a few more questions, taking measurements and making a joke about how much stuff they already had for the baby considering that Cassie wasn't even halfway through her pregnancy, Taylor said goodbye to them, stating that she would send new drawings with her ideas to the nursery by email to Toto. Then, politely, he motioned for the woman to follow him back to the house’s hall of entrance.

Alone in the nursery again, Cassie took time to stare at the white walls. She caressed her belly slowly, imagining herself in a comfortable rocking chair, breastfeeding her daughter. She imagined showing her the pictures of rabbits on the wall, the lamp on the ceiling, the cozy crib. She imagined herself changing her clothes and diapers, while talking and making faces at her, making her daughter giggle.

The room would be perfect.

The footsteps that sounded behind her made her look back, a small smile on her face. Toto had returned to his room in silence, with his eyes lost on the walls and his hands in his pants pocket.

— What did you think of her ideas? — Cassie asked, approaching him.

— Good — he replied, his voice flat.

— I liked the idea of indirect lighting that she suggested, to bring a more cozy atmosphere to the room, but I'm still in doubt about the style of the decoration, whether something more classical or something more modern is better — she continued, walking around the room — But her idea of using niches here to decorate is fantastic, isn't it?

Toto nodded, his gaze directed at the swaying treetops outside the window. It was the confirmation she needed to realize that he was strange, distant, even a little cold. And he had been that way ever since Taylor suggested the two of them were in a relationship.

She stepped toward Toto carefully.

— Toto? — Cassie asked softly, his eyes meeting hers — Look, if you're feeling bad about what I said, I just thought it was easier to lie than to try and explain our situation, I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable...

— Cassie, it’s not that, it’s just — he said, interrupting her abruptly — I’m just frustrated. Fuck.

— Why? — she asked, softly.

He ran a hand across his forehead, clearly uncomfortable.

— Because, even with all my work, all my effort, everything I said, not just to you, but to the lawyer and to myself, I failed. 

— Failed? What do you mean?

— I failed to uphold our agreement by getting involved with you.

She swallowed hard, watching as Toto ran a hand through his hair, looking like he was about to come unglued. He was feeling guilty, but it was all Cassie’s fault. It was her fault that she hadn't been able to simply ignore her own horniness.

And it was consuming her.

— I know I shouldn’t have asked you that on Thursday...

— But you did — Toto grunted, looking a little irritated. His reaction made Cassie look down, feeling embarrassed. “I deserved that”, she thought.

— Toto…

— But the problem isn't you — he said, making her raise her head quickly, meeting his eyes — The problem here is me.

— But…

— You are in a vulnerable moment, feeling the effect of hormones, and all of that. It's not your fault for feeling urges and desires. But I'm to blame for not respecting the boundaries we set in the conversation with the lawyer. I should have said no to you, Cassie.

— And why didn't you? — she asked softly.

Toto stared at her silently, as if he was measuring his words. With every second, the tension inside Cassie grew.

— You said you needed my help. And I promised to help you. I was simply keeping my word — he finally replied.

— Then why are you so upset?

— Cassandra…

— After all, you were just keeping your word, simple as that.

— It's not that simple, Cassandra! — Toto exclaimed. She didn't know the reason, but her heart started to beat harder, her palms sweating. Hearing a man raise her voice, even as innocuous as the situation was, reminded her of her father, as well as the loud fights and arguments they had.

— And why not? — she managed to ask, her throat tightening.

— Because we made a legal agreement, stating that we would not have any romantic involvement.

— You know that's just a piece of paper, right? I'm not going to sue you for having sex with me.

— That’s not the point. We made a commitment, Cassandra, I had committed to giving you support and support to bear and raise our daughter. Of course, we started the wrong way, but I had already got it into my head that it was necessary, after all, to have a child, you have to have sex...

— Actually, there are other ways…

— For two fertile and healthy adults, having sex is the first option. But that's not the point, Cassie. My point is that, after doing what is necessary, it was my intention that things returned to what we had agreed upon.

He hesitated, running his hand over his face again. After a sigh, Toto continued.

— I like you, Cassie. You are an incredible, courageous, intelligent woman… I would never have a child with you if I didn't like you, but we went too far.

Cassie clenched her jaw. She couldn't say anything, the pain in her chest growing by the second.

— I think it’s better for us to… Put a limit on this.

— A limit… — she stammered.

— Yes, we need to re-establish our boundaries here. I will continue to support you, taking care of you. That won't change. The idea of you moving here still stands, everything remains the same. But, no intimacy. No kissing, no sex.

The thought of never kissing Toto again made Cassie's chest hurt, as did the thought of never feeling him touching her in a tender, sensual way again. To think that she would never again see him the way she had in those two nights was almost suffocating. Cassie had no idea how she would be able to move on knowing she would never have him again.

She felt like arguing, telling him that she was incapable of doing that because she was completely in love with him and was willing to tear up any paper and face anything to have him for herself. Maybe this was the time to say the three words she most wanted to say to him. 

Yes, that was the time.

— Toto…

— Are you okay with that? Can we go back to just being friends?

“No, Cassandra”, she told herself.

— Yes, we can.

[swifty-fox]

Could you tell us a bit about Amoretti for this post? 🥰

https://www.tumblr.com/swifty-fox/758513453853966336?source=share

Absolutely love your fics, they are so full of feelings and so so good 🤩😍

My favorite scene

oh god EASILY:

“I’m going to close the window on you,” Gale’s whisper is furious but John can see how his eyes sparkle and snap, primed despite himself for the fight. 

He wasn’t sure if the blonde even noticed the way he came alive at John’s pigtail pulling; the way his lips parted and he turned to face him full on. A boxer squaring up for the match. He wanted John to throw the punch, just to give him an excuse to hit back.

“No-” John pants, hauling himself onto the tree limb that extended towards Gale’s window and shimmies his way down it, “- you won’t.” He finishes as he reaches the sill.

Gale was looking down his nose at John, which made his dick hard where it pinched between his legs and tree limb. He rolls his hips subtly and wonders if Gale would push him off the branch if he yanked him in for a kiss. That is not a gamble John is quite willing to take so he settles for a practiced crooked grin and a sweep back of his sweat-dampened hair. The blush on Gale’s face isn’t so bad of a reward either. 

“I could,” Gale answers stiffly. 

This close John could take in the details of him. He was as pretty as the first time John had seen him two months ago at 6 p.m. mass. Angular face softened by sleep, hair that was no longer tamed by gel and fell around his forehead in sweet waves. A plain white t-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders handsomely and clung to his tapered waist. His briefs were black and hemmed to mid-thigh, showing off the curves of him deliciously. 

“You won’t,” John croons, shuffling a little closer until their noses are just brushing. Until the branch creaks warningly under his muscled weight. “You wanna kiss me.” 

I just think it's so sweet of a moment (before all the filth) it's so highschool romance movie, it's so John Egan. I can picture the way he smiles at Buck so easily and the way Gale is so fucking smitten. I think overall the highschool movie theme to this fic was just so fun to play with even in the horny aspect

Hardest scene to write

Gosh it's been so long I can't even remember that well but I think I fought a bit with their post-coital conversation. Playing the line of them exposing their intimate details to each other just the right amount without it seeming like they were trusting each other too fast. I'm happy with how it ended up but

Favorite character to write in the fic

John. always John in this series he's a fucking Delight

Favorite dynamic to write in the fic

Again barring Clegan it's definitely John and Brady. it's weird thinking about it now a bit because since exploring brady I have a much diff idea of him but I think the big brother/little brother dynamic of them is really fun to play with (guess who is who lol)

Why I chose that title

It's from a 16th century sonnet

I believe specifically this one resonated with me for them

“My Love Is Like To Ice, And I To Fire

My love is like to ice, and I to fire; How comes it then that this her cold so great Is not dissolv'd through my so hot desire, But harder grows the more I her entreat? Or how comes it that my exceeding heat Is not delay’d by her heart-frozen cold; But that I burn much more in boiling sweat, And feel my flames augmented manifold! What more miraculous thing may be told, That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice; And ice, which is congeal’d with senseless cold, Should kindle fire by wonderful device! Such is the power of love in gentle mind, That it can alter all the course of kind.”

A fun fact about the fic

uhmmm horny fact you can actually come from getting your neck kissed that isn't just fanfic magic I've done it.

The guy who showed John how to do it was Curt

[rea-grimm]

Sleep protector Nami

You thought you were cursed. You had a huge sleep problem and couldn't fall asleep easily. But it was too hot, then the rain disturbed you, the weather changed, and you got sick... 

Plus, you felt like bad luck was nipping at your heels. Nothing was going right, and just when you thought things were going to get better, they got worse. 

You were putting the clean dishes back in their place when you had no idea exactly what had happened, but the glass jumped out of your hand and before you could catch it, it rolled aside and fell to the floor, where it shattered into a thousand shards. 

"Damn," you cursed since it was your favourite tangerine-decorated glass. You picked up a small shovel with a broom and set to work cleaning it up. 

As you were sweeping, you noticed one of the shards had a whole tangerine on it. The rest was broken. You carefully took it out and remembered how your grandmother used to tell you that shards brought good luck. Could that be true? 

You decided to give it a chance. After cleaning up, you went into town to buy a lottery ticket. For some unknown reason, you felt good about it. 

The shopkeeper gave you a choice of several types. You were drawn to the one with the tangerine trees and the pinwheel. You paid for it and made your way to a small bench to see if it was a winner. 

To win, you had to have a cloud, a sun and a rainbow on your ticket. You took a coin and started scratching. There were lots of boxes and the first one you revealed was a cloud. 

But that was only one symbol of the three. You were a little sceptical, but you wanted to win. Your heart skipped a beat when you revealed the second symbol. 

Now all you needed was the sun symbol. That would be really lucky. But you were already occupied with the last three squares on the scratch-off. First box nothing, second box nothing. 

You almost held your breath on the last one. On the one hand, you thought it was pathetic, that you'd never win anyway. That luck would have to wear out first. On the other hand, you really wanted to win something. 

Finally, you wiped out the last box and you couldn't believe your eyes. The sun symbol was smiling at you from the lottery ticket. You checked the previous two, and it really didn't seem like it. 

A wide smile spread across your face and you looked forward to seeing what you had won. You had no idea what since it wasn't written on the ticket. There was, however, an address to collect your prize. To your surprise, it wasn't far away. 

You walked up to the building and handed them the winning ticket. You were expecting some large sum of money or a chest full of gold that they had on display. 

When they brought you your prize, you couldn't believe your eyes. You expected a lot or a little, it didn't matter. What you didn't expect was an orange teddy bear. The bear was wearing a plain white T-shirt with blue stripes and a blue skirt. 

This was supposed to be your prize? The lady who handed it to you could see how puzzled and slightly disappointed you were. When you picked up the stuffed animal, you changed your mind. After all, it was the first time you'd ever won anything. Plus, the stuffed animal felt nice to the touch. 

When you picked up the stuffed animal, you immediately crawled into bed. It was a long day and you didn't get home until the evening anyway. You were amazed at how quickly you managed to fall asleep with the teddy snuggled up to you. 

You were having nightmares again. You felt like you were on a half-decayed raft on a stormy sea. There was lightning everywhere, and it looked like the storm was about to wash you into the water, where more nightmares would descend upon you. 

All of a sudden the wind picked up and it felt like the black clouds full of nightmares began to dissipate. The sea slowly calmed down and so did the storm. In its place came the sun, which you didn't often see in your dreams. 

When you turned around to see what had happened, you found that you were no longer at sea, but in a meadow, and standing across from you was a red-haired girl in the same clothes as the teddy bear, holding a long stick in her hands.

"Today's weather forecast predicts dreams of sunshine with a bit of luck," she smiled mischievously at you. You were sure she had even introduced herself, but the name had completely escaped your mind. 

With her in your dreams, you never experienced another bout of nightmares. Instead, she took you to all sorts of places full of unusual people and treasures. Together you had peaceful times, but also all sorts of adventures, fleeing from pirates who were also clowns and the like. She even took you on a strange jet ski that you rode through the waves. 

Since then, everything seems to have changed. All the sleeping problems stopped and you felt like happiness was smiling on you. 

For example, you won a free shopping spree by being the 100th customer to enter the store. You even got a promotion at work.

Plus, you slept much better, and the weather didn't interfere. It felt like the opposite. Almost every time you go to sleep, you feel the wind or the dripping rain as relaxing or even soporific. 

It was a complete shock to you when you won a random contest. Actually, it was the kind of contest where you entered your shopping receipt and hoped to win. In fact, you didn't even expect to win anything. 

To your surprise, you won a boat trip to a small island that was famous for its tangerine orchards. You couldn't believe it. Sure a teddy bear was one prize, but this? That was on a whole other level. 

You were a little nervous about the cruise since you'd never been on a boat and you didn't count paddle boats on the lake as a boat. 

But it all worked out in the end. The weather was sunny and there was a nice breeze in places. There were no big waves and to your surprise, you didn't suffer from any seasickness. That's what you feared most of all. 

There was supposed to be a guide waiting for you on the island, but when you got off, there was no one there. You took a few steps when you almost collided with a blue-haired girl who had a tattoo. 

"You must be Y/N," she smiled at you. "I'm Nojiko and I'm going to show you around today. Can we get going?" She asked. 

You nodded in agreement and with that, your tour of Cocoyasi village began. Nojiko gave you a tour of the village, telling you about its history, how it was oppressed by pirates and also how other pirates had liberated it. 

She then took you to a tangerine orchard that was actually owned by her family. You followed her and enjoyed the beautiful view. Plus, it all smelled so good. 

You had no idea how it happened, but suddenly Nojiko was out of your sight. You called out to her, but there was no answer. You tried to keep walking to see if you could find her, but you felt like you were in a tangerine labyrinth. 

As you wandered through the tangerine maze, the weather completely changed. The sun hid behind black clouds and an icy wind picked up. 

You thought you saw a familiar red-haired figure at the end of the line. You headed towards it, but when you got there, you noticed it was your teddy bear. How did he get here? You were sure you left him at home. 

You ran after it, intending to pick it up off the ground when the wind picked up enough to blow it away. 

You didn't know how long you'd been chasing the bear when you got away from the tangerine maze to the cliff where there was a wooden cross on the side. But before you could catch it, the wind threw the bear off the cliff. 

You couldn't see him anywhere when you ran to the edge and looked down. 

"Be careful you don't fall. The wind is strong now, but it will pass any moment," came a familiar voice. You turned around and couldn't believe your eyes. 

Standing right in front of you was the same girl who had spent the last few days defending your dreams from the nightmares and who had brought a little happiness into your life. 

"Nami, what are you doing here?" You wondered, her name popping into your mind like nothing, Though before you had the impression that you couldn't recall it. 

"I'm just protecting you both in your dreams and here," she replied, moving closer to you. You touched her shoulder, initially thinking your hand would go through. It didn't. Nami was here with you. 

"You're really here..." you said in disbelief and hugged her. 

"I'm here with you and I'm not going anywhere else," she replied surprisingly gently, she cupped your cheek before leaning in and kissing you. This brought back any doubts that might still have been gnawing at you. She was right there with you. Your own protector.

Sleep Protector Masterlist

One Piece Masterlist

[nightghoul381]

If it Pleases You~ Elbert x Reader

Last one! This was difficult since I don't know Elbert super well, but I think it turned out okay. Thank you @aquagirl1978 and @violettduchess for hosting this awesome challenge! I really had a blast with it :D

Prompt: 14. Summer Festival Pairing: Elbert Greetia x Reader Genre: Fluff

As promised, Elbert met you at the entrance to the summer festival. You insisted that he go when he had mentioned that he had never been to one. Tonight, however, you have to stifle a laugh when you see the garish hat on his head.

“Um, Elbert… What are you wearing?” You ask, gesturing to his head.

“A hat. I don’t like people gawking at my face.” He answered bluntly, his face showing no emotion. You’re not really sure how such an obscenely elegant hat would do anything but garner even more stares.

“Well, they may not be gawking at your face, but that hat is very extravagant, so it’s bound to draw attention too.” You advise.

A long sigh escapes from his lips as he gives you a dejected look, taking the hat off his head. He handed it to Alfons, who accepted the hat and absconded into the crowd.

“What should I do now?” He asks, his eyes searching your face.

You knew he hated people staring, but he was so beautifully captivating, he couldn’t move around in public without attracting the gazes of others.

Glancing into the festival, you noticed that there was a stall selling masquerade style masks.

“We can get you a mask!” You shout, causing Elbert to start, his eyes widening.

You grab his hand and pull him along behind you, as he hung his head, trying to obscure his face with his hair.

The array of masks ranged from ornate designs, to simple, plain colored masks. One white mask had small blue beadwork around the edges and tracing a swirling pattern over the cheeks.

You eagerly hold it up to Elbert, who hesitantly brings it to his face. You can feel your breath catch in your throat as he looks at you. The color of the beads seems to bring out the color of his eyes, causing them to look even more piercing.

“Is it bad?” He asks, lowering the mask, a dour expression taking its place.

“No! Not at all, it really brings out your eyes.” You assure him.

“So, shall I get this one?” He inquires, turning it over in his hands to inspect it.

“I think it suits you quite well,” you offer, watching as his gaze roams over the object.

“Do you think it’s beautiful?”

“Uh, I suppose so.”

“I’ll purchase it then.”

He seemed unconvinced but returned from the vendor with the mask affixed to his face.

“What should we do now?” He inquires, offering his arm for you to take.

“We get to go around and check out all of the goods and sweets and exhibits that are on display. And at the end there’s a fantastic surprise!” You exclaim, pulling his arm along behind you.

He doesn’t say much as you make your way around the festival, but there is a soft smile on his face as you excitedly show him various vendors that you knew. As much as you tried to dissuade him, each time you pointed out something that caught your eye, he bought it for you, instructing the vendor to hold the item and he would have it collected at the end of the night.

You quickly tempered your excitement after he had purchased a gorgeous pendant that you had picked up to inspect for the briefest moment. When you heard the price that the vendor quoted him for it, you nearly choked.

“Elbert, please, you really shouldn’t purchase these things for me.” You insist, after tucking the two of you back behind some trees.

“Why not?” He asks, lifting the mask. You could see his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Do you not desire those things? It appeared that you were quite taken with them.” He placed his hand on your cheek, to guide you to look at him.

“I… I did want them, but I don’t need them.”

“I wanted to purchase them.” He insisted, pressing his thumb to your lips. “You looked so beautiful every time you found an object. Your face lit up with such joy that I naturally wanted to preserve that.”

The tenderness in his gaze was so warm, your heart squeezed sweetly in response. His thumb gently dropped to your lower lip and your mouth dropped open instinctively.

“This face is beautiful too.” He adds, bringing his face so close your noses were almost touching.

At that moment the finale began and Elbert jumped back in surprise at the loud sound.

Realizing what was happening you let out a quiet giggle.

“Surprise!”

Bright specks of light dance through the sky as the firework display continued. You’re enraptured by the irresistible beauty of your lover in that moment. The different colors playing across his features and the lights reflecting in his wide eyes were bewitching.

You can’t help the affection welling up inside you from spilling out. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips. This was absolutely the most wonderful summer festival that you had ever experienced.

[hazbincalifornia]

Scars

Summary: Stolas gives Blitz a chance to get a human disguise. He doesn't expect what he sees.

Wordcount: 4210

Rating: T for canon-typical language/suggestiveness, descriptions of scarring

Ao3 link

Stolas had wondered about the markings, of course.

His memories of the charming, spirited little imp boy had been blurry around the edges, as much as he’d tried to cling to them- an impression of excitement and joy, a lightning-fast friendship that had been captured in a jar but fuzzed like the paper labels at the back of the cheat cabinet when he tried to grab a midnight snack.

He hadn’t remembered white besides the flaking pearl of curved horns, but then, a long time had passed since that day when they had run around and played pretend before adulthood pulled them apart.

He hadn’t remembered white on the poster that he’d ripped off a tree and stuffed in the back of his closet and didn’t look at except for when Stella was too awful to dwell on- except on the boots that were shined brighter than the gates an eternity away, and stripes on arms that seemed thin as toothpicks. (Even though there was just a hint of muscle underneath, muscle that he couldn’t help but imagine wrapping around his-)

Well. It didn’t matter now.

Yes, Stolas had wondered, but a brush over the white skin with his own spindly fingers showed it was a touch tougher than the brilliant red that made up the rest of Blitzy, so it was rugged, he decided. A mark of aging on imps, perhaps, or something he’d taken on willingly like the tattoos he’d seen on some of the Wrathian imps during the games, shaped like teeth or claws or vortexes, avenues of power. Of course his Blitzy wouldn’t be satisfied with something so plain as that. He was an adventurer, a visionary, an assassin.

He had faced life and beaten it into submission, powerful in a way that Stolas could only hope to be. It was tucked away in Stolas’s mind the same as the slash across Alejandro’s chest from a duel of passion was- a tantalizing part of the myth that surrounded his daring, bold, mysterious Blitzy, each piece of him something to worship with fingers and a beak and kisses. Stallion, champion, lover. Perhaps it had even been an error made during the process by an artist with shaky fingers, and he had simply said ‘fuck it’ and told them to fill in the whole thing, give him a mask like a phantom and fingerless gloves that bristled with flecks of color at the edge. It was quite the look, and even though Stolas had never quite imagined him this way in those squirreled-away minutes as a young adult, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

(Blitz heard better on the right side, brushed away sweat faster with a dismissive hand on the left, and wouldn’t let Stolas touch his hands until the fourth moon. Even then, he pulled away after just a minute, murmuring something about his palms that was so low even Stolas couldn’t quite catch it. Little quirks, things anyone might have.)

They wanted to test out a human disguise. Blitz had said that they shouldn’t have to blow any more of the budget than they already had on them, and the incident in LA months ago had left a sour taste in his mouth on the matter anyhow. Stolas agreed- the safer that they could be, the better, and he owed him for helping to find Via that day, even though she shouldn’t have been able to get to the book in the first place. Besides, he had to admit that he was a bit curious about what Blitz would look like. His outfit likely wouldn’t shift too much, but would he have hair? Would his horns be translated any? Perhaps they could try some kind of date up on Earth without having to worry about drawing undue attention the way they may in Hell.

Sure, it was likely that Blitz would be on the shorter side as a human, but their difference would likely be far less extreme than it was in their natural forms. It would be nice to be able to hold hands without him bending down or Blitz nearly cracking his back, or kiss without having a handful of feathers yanked out in the process as Blitz pulled him down. (Not that he didn’t enjoy that, to be fair- it felt like being claimed, in a way, and the dominance required to simply drag him down… ooh.)

They had chosen an uninhabited area, or at least one that was unlikely to have any interruption. It was a small lake tucked into mountains that Stolas had found years ago when experimenting with the Grimoire and had started slipping to when things became too overwhelming. It was far from the filthy smog that blanketed many human cities, as well as many Hellish ones. He had found the remains of fires a few times, but he had been lucky enough to avoid any direct human contact as of yet.

He had already shifted himself, the soft silk of his own human disguise a strange comfort. He hadn’t had much use for it in ages before that one disastrous day, but the way the clothes molded perfectly to his stripped-bare skin was sweet in a sensory way. (He liked the puffy sleeves too. They just looked fun.)

“So, this is just a ‘snap your fingers’ thing, right? I’ll be able to do it myself if we get in shit?”

“Once this is connected to you, you should be able to turn it on and off at will once in the human world and it’s on your person,” Stolas said, drumming his fingers on the book before tracing a circle around the page. “It will require some effort and contact with this crystal-” He held up the ruby gemstone dangling from its leather choker, chosen specifically for how well it complemented the coat that Blitz usually wore. “-But yes, you should be able to cast the spell without contact to the Grimoire, the same as your Loona.”

It had been… quite an effort to coax the crystal out of Asmodeus, but Stolas had to admit that it was going to be a worthwhile investment- if they could avoid being spotted again, if they could keep Blitz safe, it would be worth all of the painful secrets and promises of returned favors in the world. (The use of the book lay a question for another day, as Stolas insisted they keep it for now as a precautionary connection back to Hell in case anything went awry. It was better than to have to come get them himself again if things went belly-up, after all.)

“Fuckin’ sweet. Lay it on me, big boy.” Blitz made a ‘gimme’ motion with his hands, and Stolas gave a little chuckle.

“Normally, Asmodeus does this himself, but I had to procure it for you, so I’ll finish the enchantment now that you’re here. I would say keep your pants on, but I wouldn’t exactly be opposed if this knocked them off.”

Blitz scoffed before settling back on his haunches. “Har har. I should make you pay for that by having to take my pants off with your beak next week.”

“Oh, I’d just enjoy the challenge,” Stolas said dismissively before setting the crystal down in the crease of the book and murmuring the enchantment, fingers weaving into the air as a soft red glow began to emanate from it. “Now, this may cause a bit of a tingling sensation when you put it on, but it shouldn’t be painful.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Blitz watched as it glowed brighter and brighter before a flash blasted outwards like a miniature supernova. “Hey! You didn’t say it was going to fuck with my eyes!”

“Sorry, sorry, I forgot that part!” Stolas said, lifting the crystal that had stopped glowing again before holding it out to Blitz. “It should be properly enchanted now, try it on.”

Gingerly, Blitz unclipped the rounded skull brooch on his usual choker, tucking it into his pocket. When he grasped the crystal, magic scurried around where it touched skin, shifting red to warm brown.

“Excellent, it looks like it works,” Stolas said, although his eyes squinted. Something was… off about the texture on the palm, but the crystal was covering most of it. Blitz hooked the gem into the leather, and sharp sparkles flashed over his body, quickly painting on an illusion of humanity.

Stolas’s mouth opened and then closed again as the light dimmed, the sweet lake air not quite making it to his lungs as the imp tilted his head that was now only about a foot below Stolas’s.

“What, am I that much fuckin’ uglier than humans normally are, or- wait, shit.” He raised one hand to his right eye. “Fucking seriously? Human skin doesn’t heal as well, does it? Fuck, that’s gonna be such a pain- Stolas?”

Scars. Every one of the white marks that were splattered over the imp’s skin like gore were scars- and mostly burns from the looks of it. The one around his eye meant it was sealed partially shut, and they were slightly lighter than the surrounding skin, rippled like the surface of a planet that had seen space debris.

Blitz sighed, rubbing at his good eye as he looked over at his reflection in the water. “Well, now I get to choose between humans staring at me because I’m a demon, and humans staring at me because of this. They healed ages ago, why do they look so fresh?”

“Human forms are based on your physical characteristics if you were to have lived a similar human life,” Stolas said quietly. “The base form is chosen based off your body shape, but things like scars or missing limbs remain similar, and are sometimes more intense since they had less chance to heal properly in this form. On top of that, imps are hardier than humans, I suppose…”

“Fuck yeah we are, I’d be a corpse twenty times over if I was as squishy as those meatbags.” Blitz waved a dismissive hand, and Stolas couldn’t stop staring at the discolorations on his arm. “Ugh, it’s mostly the eye thing, I usually cover up the arms anyway and having two full eyes kiiiinda helps with the assassin thing.” He prodded at his eyelid, sounding more annoyed than pained- although it made sense, if they had mostly healed already with just the scars themselves lingering echoes of whatever he’d survived.

“How… how long have you...?” Stolas asked tentatively, and Blitz waved a hand.

“Long-ass story, but years. It was a whole thing. They hurt like a bitch, but I’m mostly used to ‘em now.” He turned, ruffling a hand through his hair. “Of course I still end up looking kind of like Mr. ‘Ran Out On His Gig’, that’s just peachy. At least the marks’ll stop people from making that call.”

Stolas squinted- he hadn’t even noticed, but sure enough, the general facial shape and skin and hair color were somewhat similar to the Ragers man Blitz had been mistaken for, albeit with black lines through the eyes, brilliant red pupils, and his heart marking as a forehead tattoo, with little spikes of hair falling on either side to show it off. He supposed it made some sort of sense, but Blitz was right- no one would mistake them now. Frankly, Stolas was surprised he even remembered what the man had looked like from what brief glances they’d gotten of his visage.

“Do they… hurt?”

“Not much, the toughness in the skin just feels different,” Blitz said, turning around and catching Stolas’s eyes for the first time. “Why are you so surprised anyway? Didn’t you know?”

“I…”

Why did he never bother looking into it? It wasn’t something small, the markings covered a good third of Blitz’s body, but it had been easier to just…

...Assume whatever fit his fantasy.

Assume that everything was fine, that Blitz had chosen everything about himself, was in complete control of the narrative the way a hero should… not that he’d been through something terrible himself that Stolas had never bothered even asking about.

“I… didn’t realize it was quite that bad,” Stolas replied a bit lamely after a moment, hating how Blitz would be able to see his eyes darting about so he forced them to lock with Blitz’s. “The difference in texture didn’t feel as extreme in your usual body.”

“Like you said, us imps are hardy-ass bitches. We can take damn near anything thrown at us, and don’t you fucking forget it.” His coat had remained largely the same, and he fussed with the edge of the sleeve. “I know it’s not gonna win any beauty contests like this.” There were a thousand words packed into just a few, and Stolas could only imagine many of them had come from previous lovers from the nearly imperceptible curl inwards he looked away.

“If… if it’s any consolation, I’m not a particular fan of my human form either.” Stolas flicked at the top of one of his ears, giving a watery smile. “Earholes are far better than having something vulnerable stick out of the side of your head.”

Blitz snorted. “You aren’t wrong on that. Hair too.” He tugged out a few strands of his own, and they rested on his bumpy palm before the wind carried them away. “Who needs it? Just another fuckin’ thing you’d have to take care of. I’ve seen the amount of shampoo Loonie goes through, and I’ll pass.”

“I think it looks nice on you! Although, of course, your normal form is best.”

“You said I could turn it on and off at will, right?”

Stolas nodded. “Just think of how you usually look, and it should-”

A blink of light and a flash of mirror-like mini-crystals that fled up his body and dissolved into thin air later, Blitz was back to the imp that Stolas knew and loved. Red eyes traced more carefully over him now, taking note of the way there was a thin line between white and red. “There we go. Back to my bomb-ass self.” He checked his arms back and front, seeming satisfied with what he saw. “Good, it didn’t make me some kinda freaky-deaky hybrid fuckup.” He glanced up at Stolas. “Yours isn’t half-bad, at least.”

“Oh?” Stolas shifted in the grass, sure his currently-human cheeks had a dot of flush to them even as his mind churned with new knowledge. “I don’t have many opportunities to use it, but I’m glad that you approve.”

“Mm, I’m sure I’ll get used to mine eventually.” There was a pause as Blitz’s knee bounced, and Stolas waited, counting to ten. Usually, Blitz either spilled or changed the subject by then, so eager to fill the air with something. Never content to just let things lay as they were. “Took a while back when it first happened too.”

“I’m… not surprised,” Stolas murmured. “I can’t imagine I would adjust immediately either.” He shifted forward, setting a hand on Blitz’s knee before it twitched away, making his heart skip as Blitz withdrew from the attempt at comfort. “Blitz, I…”

“It’s fine. I know.” There was a decade of resignation in those words, and Stolas wondered how many people had seen the scars and refused to see the man underneath. “You don’t have to act like you-”

“I think you’re beautiful.” The words were almost carried by the wind, but Blitz’s fingers curled into fists and his spikes rose.

“Stolas...”

“It’s the truth. I cannot imagine what you must have gone through, but you’re still here, still making your way in the world no matter what is thrown at you.”

Sparks leapt from the gem and he was faced with the scars thrown into harsher relief, one good eye raised.

“And what about now?”

Stolas took a moment to look- to really look. The way the features settled were different, but a spirit still burned with hottest Hellfire through the eyes and the clenched jaw and the way he held himself, with a slight hunch like he was always prepared to go on the defensive, currently-invisible spikes up.

“It’s you.” He tilted his head, nodding as if to himself. “That’s what matters. I’ll adjust, and your fierce soul comes through.” He glanced back at where he had opened the portal, an idea sparking. “In fact, why don’t we get some practice with these forms together? Are there any missions that you needed to stake out for beforehand that we could work on?”

Blitz stared at him for a moment. “If you freak out and leave me stranded if things go tits-up, I’m shoving a cactus up your ass next month.”

“Deal.”

They didn’t shake on it, but both of them knew Blitz wouldn’t make him do that to an innocent plant anyway.

__________________

“Wow.”

“Wow what?” Stolas raised an eyebrow- something he actually had now, which was odd in itself. (The loss of his second set of eyes was a tad more disorienting than he’d imagined it would be, now that he had the time to focus on it.) Currently, they were settled in the branches of a sturdy tree outside of a rather average-looking home, and Blitz whistled as he lowered the binoculars that Stolas had conjured up.

“I thought this might take a try or two, but that bitch is really going at it. The client wanted to make sure her girlfriend was banging somebody else before we took her out, and she’s fucking bigtime. In the client’s bed too, he said hers was the one with the red sheets.”

“Not to put a damper on things, but if your client is in Hell, then being with someone else now wouldn’t necessarily mean she’s cheating, would it?”

Blitz shrugged. “She said it was some dude with a mohawk she suspected, and right now, she’s sucking that dude’s dick. Anything other than that isn’t our problem. Normally we don’t even check up on shit like that, but she said that they’d probably be banging any time we showed up because she lives off mommy’s money, so they’ve got nothing to do but fuck themselves stupid. Goals, honestly.”

Stolas shifted around in the tree, running his fingers over one of the leaves growing from the branch. “I suppose. Do you need to… see anything else?”

Blitz handed him the binoculars. “Nah. Humans are kinda ugly, I’m not getting much out of watching them pork. We can go, we’ll come back and take her out tomorrow.”

“That sounds good,” Stolas said. Blitz easily shimmied down the trunk and hit the grass, but it took Stolas a bit longer to swing his legs over and lower himself down- these legs felt so awkward when it came to doing anything other than walking, and he felt rather like he’d been compressed down from the top like clay, proportions all wrong. The fact that Blitz had already somewhat adjusted to the temporary way of being, well enough to do simple acts of athleticism… it was more than impressive. Stolas’s little shoes scrabbled against the bark before falling the last foot or so, arms pinwheeling as he stumbled before stabilizing himself. Blitz couldn’t help a little snicker.

“Remind me to never take you on a peepnight.”

“...What is a peepnight?”

“Something you’re never going to see, didn’t you just hear me?” Blitz stuffed his hands in his pockets, sauntering over past the mailbox and onto the sidewalk, and Stolas hurried over to catch up to him. “So, that’s over with. Do you want to… I dunno, go get coffee or something? I don’t know if human coffee sucks. Hell coffee is a half and half chance.”

“Mmm, you know, I’m not sure?” Stolas tapped his chin. “I don’t have any human money on me, though.”

“Ah, rummaging around in the dumpster behind some place that has coffee it is, then.”

“...Blitz. No.”

“What? They throw out the fancy bread and shit all the time, and some people don’t finish their-”

Stolas groaned, and it made Blitz snicker.

“You’re a real priss for someone who loves eating my sweaty ass as much as you do.”

“Those things are very different!” Stolas protested, but he couldn’t help a little laugh of his own as Blitz nudged him. The Sin-created crystal sparkled in the sunlight, and he could see a hint of gold underneath the white teeth with canines edged sharper than any normal human’s.

“We’ll figure something out.”

That ‘something’ ended up being ‘sit next to a small pond with ducks after wandering around for twenty minutes’, as small cute animals won out over dumpster diving. Blitz tried throwing handfuls of grass at them, but they just ignored him, so he huffed and crossed his arms.

“Geez, Earth birds are bitchy as Hell ones.”

“Excuse me?” Stolas huffed, playing annoyed. It was what Blitz was clearly aiming for from the way the pupils had darted to him for a second.

“Present company excused.” Blitz paused, before a grin quirked at the side of his lips. “Except for that one time last week-”

“I was in the middle of getting ready!” Stolas shot back, a laugh layered into the way his voice pitched in the peaks of ‘middle’ and ‘ready’. One of the ducks quacked at a baby before nudging it towards the water, and Blitz’s shoulders slumped a little as he settled back with a contented sigh, watching the ripples make their way outwards in the water before fading into nothingness.

Stolas was on the side with the scar. He could see the way Blitz’s skin seemed a bit stiffer as his mouth shifted when looking at the ducklings- whether that was a fact of life back in Hell or just in this disguised form, he didn’t know. He was starting to realize that he didn’t know a lot of things.

A human with bright neon clothing passed by them with a particularly yappy little dog on a leash, and they did a double-take as they spotted Blitz. At that, Blitz bared his teeth, and the human let out a little yelp before slapping a hand over their mouth and trying to walk away as quickly as possible without looking like they were running, as if Blitz was infected somehow.

“Really,” Stolas huffed. “How rude.”

“You practically pissed yourself, you have no room to talk.”

“I did not! I was just… startled,” Stolas said, rubbing his arm before sighing. The fabric felt too loose and too tight all at once, the body not quite fitting right now that he had nothing to do but be aware of it, and the guilt weighing heavy as a neutron star didn’t help. “I shouldn’t have been, though. I’m sorry that I never asked before.”

Blitz blinked up at him before waving a hand. “Eh, it’s not like I go around advertising it to everybody. ‘Come see the freak with the foot-long cock and the 35 percent burn coverage, half off Thursdays if you promise to suck him off’.”

“As much as I admire your length, is there… anything I can do to help when we get back home?”

At that, Blitz stiffened slightly before forcing himself to relax as he raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Stolas shrugged. “Are there any… lotions, say, that help with stiffness, or places I should be careful of when we’re intimate that I haven’t already noticed?”

Blitz seemed taken aback by that. “Uh, there’s this one cream that used to help but they jacked the price way the fuck up. I wouldn’t mind a bottle of that, if you’re offering.”

“Consider it done.” Stolas leaned forward, one hand hovering in the air as if to cup the cheek, and time seemed frozen with only the gentle sway of the wind on the dark hair before him until Blitz shifted ever-so-slightly to the side, and Stolas closed the gap to let Blitz’s face rest against Stolas’s palm. His thumb rubbed over the textured skin, memorizing the way that it looked and felt, especially as he caught the slight hitch on Blitz’s chest when he didn’t pull away immediately as the scars could no longer be ignored. Didn’t shy from them, from the proof of Blitz’s strength and will to survive.

“You’re an incredible man, Blitz.”

“Mmm.” It wasn’t a word, but it didn’t need to be. Stolas could feel the warmth of blood below his hand, the pale off-white skin of his own a contrast to the rich brown. Even the fainter color of the scar was something he could see adding to a painting to capture a moment in nature, reminiscent of driftwood. Soft, warm breath huffed out against his wrist, and Blitz looked up at him with too-white eyes before a slight muted purr slipped into the air around them, the imp Stolas loved slipping through and melding with the hardy body resting against his hand.

Perhaps it wasn’t the story that Stolas had imagined, but as he shifted closer and felt Blitz relax against his touch while he kept himself steady, he was determined to find a way to share the pen so they could write themselves a happy ending.

[whiteravengreywolf]

Life Day on Peridea - a Wolfwren fanfiction

A/N: Hello everyone! I just posted a short Christmas fic. It's pre-relationship but I hope it will still keep you entertained until I post my bigger Wolfwren Christmas fic on Christmas day! Here is the beginning and the link to the full story will be at the end!

Days didn’t quite track from one galaxy to the next. Although Huyang’s internal clock would tell them of some special day which had come to pass, no one had the mind to celebrate. Life Day had come and gone with barely a mention, and no song was sung and no gifts were exchanged.

The Noti had their own version of Life Day. Sabine watched them decorate their homes with leaf garlands and pieces of moss. They picked out flat rocks and shells and, come the day of, gifted them to their family and friends. A handful of them gave Sabine gifts and, as she was feeling bad that she had nothing to give in return, she gifted the rocks and the small white seashells back.

That evening, the Noti played music and gathered around a central fire pit, where they cooked and the elder told stories to entertain the young. Sabine, Ahsoka, and Huyang watched from the edge, near their own little campfire. The T-6 had been left higher on the plain behind them, looming over the Noti camp. They watched the Noti tradition with interest, until Sabine spoke:

“I can’t believe Life Day exists even in another galaxy.”

“I’m certain they wouldn’t call it that,” Huyang replied.

“You know what I mean. The singing, the exchange of gifts, all we’re missing is a tree and the candles. And the snow.”

The droid interjected:

“The original Wookie tradition does not require snow in the slightest. Kashyyyk is a temperate planet covered at 87% of jungles. They only experience snow on the poles where the Wookiees do not live.”

Sabine rolled her eyes.

“I grew up on Krownest, remember? What does your encyclopedia tell you about Krownest?”

Full Story Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52416232

[namusthetic]

The Four Seasons

Color guide for the characters' comments:

Winter; Spring; Summer; Autumn;

_______

Winter

Jittery because had way too much sugar

Started buying presents and wrapping them in September

Has a special mug for every occasion

Likes to relax by the fire while reading or scrolling through their phone

Gives Christmas-themed socks to everyone

Sits in weird positions

Loud and affectionate with people they feel close with (even too affectionate... )

Cold and unforgiving when pissed

Has a reading list and is gonna finish it before the year ends (hopefully)

Struggles with anger management

Smiles at strangers on the street

Starts stuttering and their lisp comes out when too nervous or excited (I heard Autumn saying it was cute - oh really? - S-spring!!!!!!)

Loves surprises

Prideful, gets offended easily, but also forgives and forgets easily (it took us a whole afternoon to get them to open the door just because the three of us hung out without them - still don't know why we bothered. - HEY!!! )

Calls instead of texting

Ready to throw hands if any of their friends gets bullied or insulted

Aesthetics:

Hot chocolate and a crackling fireplace, Christmas songs and mulled wine, snow and cold wind, warm scarves and knitted gloves, snow angles and snowball fights, smirks and fistbumps, warm sweaters and tight hugs, doodles on frosty window panes, dad jokes and uncoordinated dance moves

Playlist:

Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra

Everybody Talks by Neon Trees

Don't Stop Me Now by Queen

Tongue Tied by Grouplove

(I Can Get No) Satisfaction by The Rolling Stones

This Side of Paradise by Coyote Theory

Line Without a Hook by Ricky Montgomery

Eleanor Rigby by Cody Fry

Somebody To Love by Queen

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas by Michael Bublé

Snowman by Sia

Winter Wonderland by Michael Bublé

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen

_______

Spring

Has various nervous tics because of anxiety

Always sitting on the floor

Often with their head in the clouds (AM NOT! - darling, I've literally seen you walk into door frames more times than I can count - ... )

Almost never raises their voice

Starts reading a book, then forgets about it and starts another one

Gets lost in daydreaming and dissociates from reality

Defends strongly what they believe in

"If I were a frog you'd be welcome on my lily pad"

Starts projects but never finishes them

Sensitive, cries easily when animals and environment is involved

In touch with their emotions and nature (and also with summer apparently - if you don't shut up, I swear. - Autumn, help me!! - oh, hell nah)

Spends long afternoons having pic-nics in the park, reading, sleeping and sunbathing

Walks in the woods looking for fae traps and playing hide and seek with foxes

Aesthetics:

Flower crowns, pic-nics and apricot jam, sunshine filtering through the leaves, birds chirping and bubbly laughter, bumblebees and bees flying from flower to flower, soft singing, flower crowns and daisy chains, curious eyes and pastel colors, small frogs and lilly pads, strawberry toasts and herbal teas, sweet smiles and paint-stained hands

Playlist:

Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish

Cool Kids by Echosmith

Ophelia by The Lumineers

Hey There Delilah by Plain White T's

Swing Lynn by Harmless

My Kind of Woman by Mac DeMarco

girls by girl in red

Coffee by beabadoobee

Juliet by Cavetown

rises the moon by Liana Flores

Where'd All the Time Go? By Dr. Dog

cardigan by Taylor Swift

No Plan by Hozier

_______

Summer

Sleeps with the windows open

Goes to the beach at sunrise to walk along the shore

Parties until late at night and comes home in the early morning

Afraid of never being good enough

Plans their day to the second, has a set goal in life

Chatty, makes friends easily but sometimes tries too hard

Just plain gorgeous (agreed!! - *blushes*)

Constantly doing something so they doesn't have any time to wallow in their thoughts

Sees the best in people (even Autumn? - Would you knock it off!?!!)

Doesn't need anyone's approval but cares about their found family's opinion

Has always something urgent to do

Done with everyone's whining (e- even me? - no, not you - pffft, simp. - *proceeds to throw a shoe at Winter* - You asked for it.)

Always tries to be strong by repressing their emotions (yeah, you shouldn't do that - sigh, I'll try not to)

Aesthetics:

Sunshine and linen sheets, freckles and dimples, gold and sand, warm laughter and cold cocktails, strawberry lemonade, pizza and a can of soda, tan lines and stretch marks, afternoon naps on the porch and late night rides, roller skating with their headphones on the promenade, thrift-shopping, a light breeze in the summer heat

Playlist:

Juicy by Doja Cat

Chicken Noodle Soup by J-Hope (ft. Becky G)

Cool for the Summer by Demi Lovato

WANNABE by ITZY

Need to Know by Doja Cat

I'm Legit by Nicki Minaj ft. Ciara

About Damn Time by Lizzo

Levitating (ft. DaBaby) by Dua Lipa

Egoistic by Mamamoo

Next Level by aespa

Truth Hurts by Lizzo

Gashina by SUNMI

Dirty Harry by Gorillaz

_______

Autumn

Lovely and deep, like the woods they like to wander

Started planning their Halloween costume since summer

Chooses their afternoon tea depending on their mood

Likes to sit by the window and read when starts raining

Often misunderstood

Looks dark and broody but is just a cinnamon roll (a cute, little, squishy cinnamon roll!!! - sometimes I struggle to repress the urge to push you off a cliff - nah, you know you love me - who's gonna tell them? - Not me.)

Starts reading several books at the same time and switches between them

Spends long afternoons reading in coffee shops

Struggles with depression and anxiety

Cannot function without coffee in the morning

Gets startled easily if they are focused on something else

Judges everyone silently, that's just what they do (Except Spring, she can do whatever she wants. - is it the cuteness? - It is.)

Waits for the call to end and then texts "What do you want?!?"

Aesthetics:

Eye-rolls, tired eyes, old books and fallen leaves as bookmarks, sentences underlined with shaky lines, large cardigans and knitted sweaters, dark coffee with splashes of milk, Earl Grey tea and butter biscuits, soft sighs and sweater paws, leather messenger bags and worn-out notebooks, the pitter-patter of rain on the sidewalk, fog and drizzle, the distant rumble of an incoming storm

Playlist:

The Less I Know the Better by Tame Impala

Tired by beabadoobee

Devil Town by Cavetown

Coffee by Jack Stauber's Micropop

Blondie by Current Joys

Alien Blues by Vundabar

Little Dark Age by MGMT

Hey Kids by Molina ft. Late Verlane

Take a Slice by Glass Animals

Vide Noir by Lord Huron

Mary On a Cross by Ghost

The Chain by Fleetwood Mac

Zombie by The Cranberries

----------------------🍏

Helloo!!! ✨

Sorry it's been a while since I've posted anything (again, sob) but I'm back!

I chose seasons this time, and I've also added comments from each one, I thought it would be a cute thing to add, I had fun doing it.

For the character's comments I used different colors to recognize them, I hope it's not too chaotic.

Hope you enjoy, and please take care of yourselves,

lots of love 💜

[twostepstyless]

The House with the Yellow Door

Fic Advent Calendar Day 13

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Authors Note: This story is a slight continuation of Day 3 of the Advent Calendar Fics, you might want to read that one first but it's not necessary either. Harry finds something special while clearing out the junk drawers and we take a reminisce about Harry and Y/N's first Christmas.

As always, reblogs, likes and feedback of any and all variety is appreciated and encouraged - G <3

Word Count: 3.6k

SFW

———

Harry had hit the jackpot. He had been tidying out his junk drawers in their bedroom when it happened, or rather, finishing cleaning out his junk drawers. He’d started the task over a week ago when he was supposed to be getting ready to go to a posh dinner party, he couldn’t really be bothered going to so decided to begin the task Y/N had asked him to do ages ago instead. However, he never finished it and took the opportunity to do so today while Y/N was at some work thing he couldn’t remember what it was for, someone’s leaving lunch, or retiral lunch, or Christmas lunch, or a lunch for the sake of having a lunch, whichever it was, she was out. Harry had filled his time alone with playing with the dog until the dog was bored with him and walked off, which left Harry twiddling his thumbs until he thought it best to finish his unfinished chore.

There was a bit of everything in those drawers, pieces of jewellery he’d ‘lost’, receipts, guitar picks, small items he’d filched from sets he probably wasn’t supposed to take, old photographs, cables that no one knew what they were for, his old phone, loose batteries and change, t-shirts that were so ripped and indistinguishable that he probably should throw them away, and then right at the very back, wrapped up in a few layers of paper towel and taped over, was the missing Christmas ornament. The ornament that had vanished without a trace on the evening they were decorating their Christmas tree a week and a half ago. The special bauble, that left the couple heartbroken when it hadn’t shown up. Even when Harry was reassuring Y/N that they would find it and it would show up when they least expected it, he hadn’t been holding out much hope for that. He knew they had thrown away some broken ornaments last year and he was terrified it got swept up in the mess and ended up out in the rubbish, but he didn’t want to voice that to Y/N. Harry had spent a little time each day looking for it, he even went into the attic, this time without any scary spiders to put him off, looking through all their Christmas decorating supplies again just in case they had missed it. Every time Y/N had walked past their Christmas tree he noticed her eyes glance briefly at the blank spot in the middle near the top for the ornament, and each time her face fell, and Harry felt another crack appear on his heart, but he’d only gone and bloody found it. As he peeled back the layers of white paper towel and tape, he couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping upon seeing it. It wasn’t even extraordinary to look at, a plain, glazed, ceramic circle, with a thick velvet, red ribbon tied through the hole and finished in a bow. The fine black calligraphy written across the front read, ‘Our First Christmas’ with ‘Y/N and Harry’ written below that and underneath that read ‘2017’ with a hand-painted wreath around the outside. Harry held the ornament carefully in his hands as he made his way downstairs to the Christmas tree, leaving his junk drawer clear out unfinished, again. The piles of mess from the drawers scattering their bedroom floor which Y/N would no doubt give him a row for later when the shine from finding the decoration wore off. He stood in front of the nearly completely decorated tree and sought out the spot in the middle, near the top that was reserved for the bauble, reaching up, he hung the plush velvet ribbon around a tree branch and sorted it, so the text faced outwards, smiling softly to himself, recalling the memory of how the special bauble came to be. 

*** Flashback to Christmas Eve 2017 ***

Harry had just put his last bag in the boot of his car. He had his duffle bag with his clothes for a few days away as well as a disgusting amount of gift bags of presents for his family tucked away in the boot. He was doing as he done every Christmas, heading up to his Mum’s for a few days, which most years, he really looked forward to, he felt like he missed out on a lot of family things so his Christmas there was his time to soak up his time with them, and it’s not like he wasn’t looking forward to it this year, it’s just, well, she wasn’t going to be there. Harry and Y/N had been together for a few months, long enough to swap Christmas gifts with each other a few days ago, but maybe a bit early to have one another at their Christmases with their families and to meet the entire extended family on top of their immediate family, that was maybe a bit full on for a relationship that was only a few months old. Though as Harry went round his home, checking the switches were off and nothing was left to spoil in his fridge, he decided it was stupid to put time restraints on these things, because Christmas was one of his favourite times of the year, especially with his family, and Y/N had quickly shot to close to the top, if not the very top, of his list of favourite people and, fuck, he wanted her there, he wanted to spend Christmas with her. But she was already gone, she’d left London yesterday and made the drive back to her hometown to spend Christmas at her parents’ house with her extended family, much like he was doing. He got in the car, after locking up, sighing to himself as he started the engine to begin his drive, playing his feel-good playlist through the sound system to try and shake himself out his funk of missing her. He was going to see her in a few days, on the 29th, and they were going to spend New Year’s Eve together at the very least, but as he exited his driveway and looked down to shift into second gear as he joined the flow of traffic on his street, he saw a silly gift he’d picked up for her and decided not to give her because he was too shy to hand it over to her in case she felt it was a bit early for that kind of thing, he was back in his funk of missing her as he made his way out of London. 

*** 

That bloody ornament was driving Harry mental, he kept looking at it as it taunted him from the cupholder. He should’ve given it to her, if she thought he was being full on, so be it. 

Fuck it. 

He saw the exit, not the one he was intending on taking as he travelled in the fast lane, but saw a gap in the traffic behind him took the opportunity, flicking on his indicator and scooting across 3 lanes to the left and onto the exit as he turned off his sat nav as it tried it’d hardest to reroute him to his Mum’s via whatever mystery tour he had decided to take. He followed the signs with precision as he made his way to the town where he’d never been before. He knew the address though, she had told him maybe twice, showed him a picture of her and her sibling standing in front of it once and that was all he had to go on. This is all starting to feel a bit like that part in Love Actually where Hugh Grant goes chapping round the doors looking for Natalie, incidentally that was Y/N’s favourite bit of the film. Harry was driving at a snail’s pace as he tried to read the street signs. Waverley Street… bingo. The house with the sunshine yellow door was what he was looking for, something Y/N’s Mum done one day when she was sick of post and parcels ending up at the wrong address, at least then she could put ‘the house with the yellow door’ in the delivery notes. White, white, black, oak, white, black, black, green, yellow, white, black. Yellow. He slammed down on the breaks before reversing a few houses and parked in a spot outside the house. What in the name of God was he doing? With shaky fingers, he plucked out the white ceramic ornament with the black script and velvet, red ribbon out of the cupholder and exited the car. The street was quiet, just an older man walking a cute golden retriever, who was wearing a coat, down the street. The gentleman offered Harry a tip of his flat cap and a ‘cold one today, innit?’ as he passed as Harry nodded, nerves probably radiating from his skin as he walked up the path to the front door, careful not to slip on the patches of frost and ice that turned the paving stones sparkly. 

His knuckles rapped on the door three times and then he stood back. Taking a few deep breaths, his exhales leaving him in clouds of steam as his breath reacted with the chill in the air. Harry was praying to anyone that would listen that it would be Y/N to open the door, they hadn’t done the meet the families yet, and was showing up on the girl your dating’s parent’s doorstep unannounced the way to do that? Probably not. With no such luck, the door swung open to reveal a man that Harry recognised, from photos, to be Y/N’s Father. Words failed Harry as Mr Y/S/N took in the meek looking man on his doorstep before roaring over his shoulder, “Y/N! Want to tell me why Harry bloody Styles is at my front door?” He wasn’t angry, just shouting so Y/N would hear her Dad over the rabble in the house. Their families knew the couple were together, they had all seen photos that the pair had sent to their families of them but had yet to meet in person.  Harry heard her, sprinting, unusual for her to move at a speed anything faster than a brisk walk, but to be fair to her she wasn’t expecting to hear her new boyfriend was stood at her family home on Christmas Eve. 

“Harry,” she breathed out in shock, “what the fuck are you doing here?” her eyes widened. 

“Oi, language misses,” her dad said sarcastically from behind her, as she took place in front of him at the door, knowing full well his daughter’s language could be less than desirable a lot of the time. “Nice to meet you, mate,” he smiled warmly at Harry as he backed away back down the hallway.

“Nice t’meet you too,” Harry said, a second too late as her Dad disappeared from view, no doubt away to fill in the now silent family about who was at the door. 

“Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but what are y’doing here?” Y/N asked, in shock to see him. “Wait, Christ, y’must be freezing, get in here,” she reached out and tugged one of his arms, as both hands were tucked into his jacket pockets, the ornament gripped in his left hand in his pocket, and pulled him into the house. Shutting the door behind him as he was suddenly engulfed in the warmth of the family home. “Um, my Nana and Papa are in the living room jus’ now, so this way,” the pointed upstairs as she led him up the creaky staircase as he took in the photos that lined the wall, family pictures and old school photos of Y/N and her sibling. She looked at him nervously, as she pushed open a wooden door that lay slightly ajar to reveal what must’ve been her bedroom that she continued living in until she left to move to London at the start of the year. The walls were still painted the lavender colour she had picked out as a child and the stickers that she had stuck to the back of her bedroom door when she was 7 were still there no matter how many times or ways Y/N’s Mum tried to remove them. He saw the bag she packed, as he watched from her bed in her flat, lying open on the floor at the foot of her bed, clothes spilling out, as well as some of the gifts she had for her family sat atop the desk in the corner of the room. “Y’can sit down,” she patted the space on the bed next to her as Harry sat down, his left hand still not leaving his pocket or his hold in the ornament. 

“So…um…” Harry began. 

“Y’not breaking up with me, are you? Because that’s fucked if you’ve came here to do that and on Christmas Eve. I know it’s better to do it in person but honestly, I’d have preferred a text if this is what this is,” Y/N spurted out quickly, avoiding eye contact with him. 

“What?! No. No, no, no, no, no. Jesus, Y/N, no, m’not breaking up with you, that’s the last thing on my mind, in fact it’s not even on my mind,” Harry quickly reassured her, his right hand gripping her chin to turn her head to look at him as she let out the breath she had been holding.

“Right, good, or I’d have been asking for the stuff I got y’for Christmas back,” she joked, inching closer to him on the bed now that her worries were settled. “Want t’tell my why you’re here, gorgeous,” her hand came up, palm resting on his cheek as her nails softly scratched at the skin there as he leant into her touch.

“I was on my way to Mum’s and I was just thinking, and I had something I was going to give to you in the car but didn’t, then I was thinking again and I missed you. Know we decided we were seeing each other on the 29th and that maybe spending this Christmas together was a bit full on because we’ve only been together a few months, but jus’ fuck that, y’know? I needed to see you today, so I was coming up to your exit on the motorway and just, stopped thinking, and took the exit and I’m here.” Harry shrugged. 

“Y’still going to go to your Mum’s right, I don’t want to be the evil witch who’s stopped y’going to your family for Christmas,” Y/N worried aloud. 

“M’going to go there right after I’ve seen you for a little while today,” Harry nodded. 

“Y’know I’ve been thinking the same thing right, I got here last night as was so happy to see everyone but I just missed you so much from the minute I started the drive,” Y/N said quietly, as Harry couldn’t stop himself from finally placing a kiss on her lips, that didn’t last long as they both started smiling too much into it before they broke away. 

“Y’only saying that because you hate driving and I would’ve been the one to drive us up,” Harry snorted. 

“I mean, you’re not wrong,” Y/N giggled, “but I missed you even more than that.”

“Yeah?” Harry smiled, shyly. 

“So much, best Christmas gift is you showing up here,” she nudged his side. 

“Speaking of gifts,” Harry trailed off, clearing his throat, as his left hand started fidgeting with the ornament in his pocket again. 

“Mm, yeah, you said y’had something in the car for me? We already did our gifts baby, y’didn’t go out and get me anything else did you?” she quirked an eyebrow, disapprovingly.

“Not quite, I bought it when I was getting your other Christmas presents but sort of shit out of giving you this it.” 

“Fuck me, you’re not proposing Harry, are you? Know we said we missed each other but let’s calm it down a bit,” Y/N joked, knowing he would do no such thing, more trying to make the situation a bit more light-hearted as her love seemed nervous for whatever reason.  

Harry laughed, shaking his head, “no, it’s silly really, but eh, here you go, I guess,” and he pulled out the hand-painted ornament with the thick, red velvet ribbon and passed it to her as she held it delicately between her fingers. 

“Our first Christmas,” she whispered, thumbs skating over the painted design.

“Yeah. Our first, because I’m intending to have a lot more Christmases with you, Y/N,” Harry said thoughtfully as her gaze turned towards his, knowing he was being serious as he rarely said just her name, it was always a term of endearment or nickname. “If you want to, anyway,” the nerves crept back into his voice again as his eyes flickered down to the ornament in her grip, watching as she placed it carefully on her bedside table, before she launched herself into his hold.

“Harry, you can’t just give me something like that and not expect me not to melt into a puddle, what the hell,” she wept into his throat as she peppered wet kisses onto his skin.

“Wait, y’like it?” Harry asked dumbfoundedly, pulling her back to look at her, seeing glittery tear stains on her face, his thumbs coming up to rub them away. 

“Like it? Harry, I can’t even. M’so glad we’re on the same page about this,” she grinned. 

“Yeah? You want to spend a few more Christmases together?” 

“All of them preferably, I want the rest of my Christmases to be spent with you, and I want that ornament on our tree every year, in the middle, near the top,” Y/N picked up the special ornament again, knowing they would treasure it forever. 

“I love you,” Harry said as she stared down at the bauble. They hadn’t said that to each other yet, but if there was ever a time, it was now. 

Her eyes flickered up to his, “I love you, so much,” she responded seriously as they met for a deep kiss, conveying more than those three words in the passion that exploded as their lips touched, as Y/N gripped the ornament between them. 

*** 13th December 2022 ***

“H, I’m home!” Y/N called, closing the door over, dropping her bag on the bottom of their staircase hanging her coat and scarf over the banister of the staircase as she fluffed out her hair that had been trapped by her scarf. 

“I’m in the living room,” Harry called back, smirking to himself as his eyes flickered up to the, newly found, special ornament. He heard Y/N kick off her shoes before she padded through to the living room, their golden retriever, Vinnie, meeting her at the living room door with a wiggly bum and wagging tail at the excitement of seeing his Mum again, even if she’d only been gone a few hours. 

“Hi baby boy, how are you?” Y/N scratched Vinnie behind his ears, just where he liked. 

“I’m alrigh’, yeah,” Harry said from the couch. 

“I was talking to Vinnie, H,” Y/N giggled walking over to the couch to plop herself down next to him, giving him a quick peck before she cuddled into his side. 

“Of course, you were,” Harry playfully rolled his eyes. 

Y/N laughed, “okay, what did you do today, gorgeous?” 

“Finished clearing out those junk drawers in the bedroom,” Harry stated, proud of himself.

“You did? That’s great! Find anything good?” she asked. 

“Mhmm,” Harry hummed vaguely as Y/N furrowed her brow at him before she followed his sweeping gaze around the room, not seeing anything different. Nothing on the floor, or the couch, there was a new magazine on the coffee table but that didn’t come out the junk drawer, there was their first Christmas ornament on the tree but that was always…

Y/N gasped so loudly, she choked on the air she took in as she began coughing loudly as Harry laughed, rubbing her back to soothe her as she calmed down, her head flying round to look at him. “Y’found it?” Y/N was already crying, she had it in her head it was gone forever and there it was in its special place, in the middle, near the top. 

“I did, it was in the back of the drawer, wrapped in paper towel. Now that I think about it, I think we forgot to box it up last year when we took the tree down and we decided to wrap it up and stick it in there for safe keeping but we both must’ve just forgotten,” Harry explained as he swiped Y/N’s glittery tear stains away with his thumb. 

“The trees actually finished being decorated now,” she smiled at him before looking up at the ceramic ornament with a smile. 

“It’s perfect,” Harry stated, pressing a kiss to her cheek before she turned to kiss him properly. 

“Thank you for finding it,” Y/N whispered. 

“Told you it would show up where and when we’d least expect it, we said it would be up for all our Christmases, it wasn’t going anywhere,” Harry smiled. 

“I love you,” Y/N sighed, dreamily. 

“I love you, so much,” Harry responded before sealing a kiss over her soft lips. It was officially their 6thChristmas together now. 

———

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[sanguisxferox]

{ THE ESSENTIALS }

Name: Henry Cohen Age: 130 Species: Blood Witch / alchemist Familiar: Eric Draven (Crow) Powers: Other than typical blood witch powers, Henry and his family are able to create 2-way fixed portals anywhere in the world that can be activated with a specific powder and their blood. The doors are noncorporeal and invisible. They are located all around New Orleans (and the world), giving Henry access to any places he wishes to go or take others with him without being seen. His homemade powders are mixed with his blood for quick use and to skip usually long rituals, different colors for different things, hence why his fingers often look stained when he uses them a lot. Deity: Primarily, the God of Travelling (deceased), but highly regards similar ones that guide souls; like Anubis, Fengdu Ghosts, Charon, Shinigami, Xolotl, Veles, etc. Gender, Pronouns, Sexual & Romantic identities: Cis-male. He/him. Homosexual. Homoromantic Residence / Years: Lakeview / 50 years Affiliation / Years:  N/A Job / Workplace: Portal Maker/Guide & Owner of Wyrmwood Apothecary (French Quarter) Relationship status: Single Positive traits: Loyal, reliable, resourceful, witty, honest, loving Negative traits: Sassy, inconsiderate, short-tempered, self-serving, obsessive

{ FAMILY TREE }

They are, for the most part, alive, but none of them currently lives in New Orleans other than Henry. They can be found all around the world.

{ HEADCANONS }

Henry was born in England and of Jewish descent. His birthday is on October 23rd, making him a Scorpio.

He can switch back and forth between a Londoner accent and a New Orleans one.

It was while visiting his uncle in New Orleans that he fell in love with the city and decided to settle down there. His uncle left a few years later, leaving Henry to be the last of his family in town.

He speaks English, French, Spanish, and Louisiana French. He can understand Hindi well enough, but isn’t very good at speaking it.

One of his most common nickname (like the rest of his family) is The Traveller(s)

The Cohen are rumoured to be descendants of the God of Travelling; hence why they can make portals and guide people through them the way they do.

Henry owns and run an Apothecary in the French Quarter called Wyrmwood Apothecary.

He can get dangerously obsessive when he wants something/someone and he’ll go to great length to get what he desires.

The Cohen's divinely blessed bloodline is something the Higher Ups of the Deathrunners found out; resulting in them making a deal with the family a long time ago. The purpose was to get some of their blood for the corruption of Mathias Attano, which was a good deal until the Higher Ups became too greedy.

Recently, their greediness led them to almost draining Henry out of his blood, but he managed to escape. The direct attack has put the Deathrunners at odds with the Cohen Family all across the world.

Unbeknownst to Henry, the attack on him wasn’t as random as he thought, nor only out of greed and no one other than the Higher Ups know what provoked the attack.

As a consequences, any know members of the Deathrunners are turned around by the Cohen family (or killed on the spot) who now refuses to make portals for them and in Henry’s case to let them enter his Apothecary shop.

Standing at 1.80m (5'11"), Henry has a charming presence to him. He has wavy, slightly curly hair that falls just below the nape of his neck, accentuating his striking turquoise-like eyes and a full, short beard. As a blood witch alchemist, his fingers are often stained from creating vibrant powders for quick use, hinting at his craft. He prefers a casual style, typically wearing dark denim jeans, a plain white t-shirt and an assortment of leather jackets he loves to flaunt. With an attractive, mischievous aura, he effortlessly draws attention while exuding an intriguing blend of danger and allure.

{ CONNECTIONS }

Ricardo Jimenez / Best friend: He’s also his closest one. Henry would kill just about anyone to protect him. They have known each other for 15 years. But the incident with the Deathrunners has caused a crack in the foundation of their friendship as Henry is now cautious and distrusting of all Deathrunners. He knows his best friend had nothing to do with it, but knows that the Higher Ups could do something to control him.

The Deathrunners / Enemy: Although, his hatred for them is mostly targeted at the Higher Ups of the faction, he still stays away from them as much as possible.

Rus Saint-Cyr / Physical therapist: He's Henry’s obsession. Someone that Henry wants and someone he wants to want him. Henry met him after the incident with the Deathrunners. He was extremely helpful in Henry’s recovering.

Mathias Attano / Cautious acquaintance: Henry knows about Mathias more than Mathias knows about what has been done to him. It's because he too is a victim that Henry talks to him. He's also aware of Mathias' real position amongst the Deathrunners.

Suresh Lal / Business partner: For as long as there was a Cohen in New Orleans, they had the Lotus Eaters’ leader as business partner. Exclusive potion ingredients in exchange of fast travelling through the Cohen’s portals.

Versipellis Singh / Business partner / Close friend: They met a few years ago, when Versi was starting his business and become friends and part-time business partners when Henry’s portals came in handy for fast travelling. Unknown to Versi, Henry has quite often used his blood powers to control human customers and made people (including Versi) that the customers were possessed by a ghost.

{ WANTED CONNECTIONS }

Friends, Employees at the Apothecary Store, Frenemies

[devilmayfamily]

During The Holidays...

Dante walks around the house in just those red checkered pajama pants. Vergil has a matching blue pair but he at least has the decency to wear a faded blue t-shirt as well.

Vergil plays old, classical and sometimes instrumental Christmas music, if any at all. Dante likes playing all the new pop Christmas songs all the time.

Dante decorates before Thanksgiving. Vergil waits until after.

Vergil wants a white Christmas tree with minimal decorations. Dante wants a green one with as many decorations as he can fit on the thing.

Dante likes drinking eggnog and sometimes spiking it. Vergil likes drinking hot cocoa and never spiking it.

Vergil will put a plain wreath up on the door. Dante will decorate it.

Dante tries to bake all the treats their mom used to for them around this time of year. Vergil is the only one who can do it successfully.

Even though he hates the stupid tradition, Vergil will give his family a kiss on the cheek/forehead if they get caught under the mistletoe. Dante is the one who put it up and uses it as an excuse to get kisses from his brother.

Dante loves Christmas time. Vergil secretly does.