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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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Hi :) I've never requested before and am a little embarrassed to be here. But I'm also in my Spencer Reid Brainrot era and am a fan of your writing! I was thinking something with a virgin female reader who is genophobic (specifically fear of vaginal penetration, in her case) and Spencer helps her work through her fear and try something new? She doesnt need to have trauma, just the phobia. Either BAU or non BAU reader is fine, just as long as they aren't initially dating and there is a slow build up to the intimacy. Also, could it be race-blind? (e.g "I could see she was embarrassed" instead of "her cheeks turned pink") Fluff, smut, and mutual pining. Ack, please it would make my MONTH!!

-❤️‍🩹

A/N: I really hope I did this one justice!! It was fun to research and write and ahhh the slow burn (which was definitely a lot faster than it should have been if I had more time 🫣 sorry). I hope you like it!

W/C: 5k

Warnings: Genophobia (fear of sexual intimacy), panic attack, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), virgin reader, inexperienced Spencer, two idiots in love again, vaginal sex, fingering, contraception actually used! Mainly soft and sweet sex 😊

Find my masterlist here! Get ready for kinktober with me here!

It was your worst nightmare come true.

You’d had a crush on Spencer for the last three years, working with him in the BAU since Elle had left. You’d joined the team alongside Emily and immediately become enamored with the boy genius, and how could you not? He was smart, and handsome, and most importantly, he respected boundaries.

But here he was in front of you, probably saying the words that you most wanted to hear from him, but he was so close, your heart was beating uncomfortably in your chest, your breath short and your eyes hazy and unfocused for all the wrong reasons.

“Just… If you don’t feel the same, I understand and I’ll never mention it again, but if there’s any chance that you.. That you love me the same way I love you, please tell me.” He had you boxed in against the wall, not touching you exactly, but so close you could feel his breath on your neck, could see the desperation in his eyes as he poured his heart out to you.

The man of your dreams was confessing his love to you, and you were on the verge of a panic attack at his attention.

“Spencer, I have to go,” you gasped out, grasping your chest as you begged your lungs to start working again, as you begged your mouth to stay and explain. But the tears were burning in the corners of your eyes and you had to run from the intimacy of the moment. “I have to... I’m sorry, Spencer, I can’t…” You didn’t get any other words out before you bolted out the door, desperate to find a bathroom stall to cry in. You weren’t sure if the tears were from the very real fear you’d just confronted or the realization that you’d probably just ruined your chances with Spencer Reid.

–X–

A week later, and the awkward tension between the two of you hadn’t dissipated. You wanted to explain yourself, of course, you did, but with the hurt look on Spencer’s face shooting through you every time you were at the other end of his gaze, combined with the absolute fear of being known and judged, you had guiltily kept your mouth shut.

The rest of the team had noticed, of course. The two of you were sending pining looks after one another whenever the other had their back turned, even when preoccupied with a prolific highway murderer, the team would be blind not to see it. Unfortunately for you, the members of the BAU weren’t the ones to let the tension go unconfronted, so you found yourself in increasingly solitary situations, alone but for the company of Spencer himself.

You’d been assigned to work the geographical profile with Spencer, despite usually working alongside Hotch, more used to comforting and interviewing families than analyzing charts and maps. The opportunity to explain had been handed to you on a silver platter, and you had to take it.

“Spencer, can we talk?” You blurted the words out after an unbearably long silence, having watched the man read case file after case file while you distractedly bumbled along beside him.

He paused and gave a small nod, bringing his head up, but not quite meeting your gaze.

“When you… When you said those things last week, did you mean them?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Y/N.” The words were tense, but his voice was soft, his eyes holding a resigned look.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry, shit, everything I say is going to sound like an excuse but I’m so sorry…” you rambled, trying to work up the courage to say what you actually wanted to.

“You don’t have to apologize for not feeling the same way I do. It’s okay, I know I’m not the easiest person to love and-”

“You are. You are, Spencer, don’t even think that you are the problem here, because you are not.” You gasped for breath as you pushed the words out unexpectedly, surprising even yourself with the conviction of your tone.

“I love you, Spencer, I do, I just…” You blinked back the tears again as your voice suddenly became a whisper.

“You know when we talked about our… our fears a few weeks back? And I said that I didn’t have anything specific that came to mind?” He listened attentively as you stuttered out the words.

“I lied. When… people get close to me, and when they get close to me in a way that specifically suggests that… suggests that they like me the way you like me, my chest gets tight, and I can’t breathe. Spencer, I’m… I’m scared of sex.”

You let the confession hang in the air between you, almost afraid to look up and see the sympathetic look in Spencer’s eyes. But you had to eventually, and you were surprised.

The man wasn’t even looking at you, and his expression couldn’t even be described as concerned, let alone empathetic.

“Spencer? Did you hear what I said?” He looked up and smiled at you, keeping his distance still, but opening up to you, facing you with open body language, putting all his attention on you without moving even an inch closer.

“Genophobia. Y/N, you’re describing Genophobia. It’s the fear of physical intimacy that often stems from a fear of pain during sexual intimacy or from physical symptoms, such as Vaginosis. Y/N, you don’t hate me.” His grin widened, and you let out a little laugh at the hopeful look on his face as he breathed out that last statement.

“No, no Spencer, I couldn’t hate you.”

“Good, because I thought I’d taken it too far… Nevermind. Y/N, is… is this something you want to work through?” His tone was cautious, and you were touched by the seriousness he was approaching with. Your previous boyfriends had mocked you when you explained why you couldn’t have sex with them, few as they may have been. You’d never been treated with such gentleness.

“Yes. I really want to work through it, but… Spencer, it might take a long time. Is that okay?” He considered your question for a minute, then replied with his own.

“Y/N, can I lean in and kiss your cheek, please? I won’t touch you anywhere else, I just want…please?” You felt a warmth bubbling under your cheeks at the situation, your tongue growing thick in your mouth, not allowing you to respond. You opted for a small nod instead, watching his every move as he slowly moved in.

Placing his hands on the table, he lifted himself up from his chair, keeping them firmly planted there so you could see that he wasn’t going to initiate anything further. His lips finally hit your cheek, and your heart started beating in that familiar way that it usually did, but you forced yourself to hold still until he pulled away. He did so quickly.

“Y/N, I don’t care how long it takes you to be comfortable with me. I’m just happy you chose me.” He finished, then grabbed a file and exited the room, leaving you alone again to calm your heart and un-fog your brain.

–X–

The case closed a few days later, but you didn’t have another chance to talk to Spencer anymore about your relationship, being so caught up in serving justice to the families of the victims. But as Friday approached, your job was finished, an unsub handed over to the authorities ready for prosecution, and you could finally fly back home.

Which is how you found yourself, on the last evening of the work week, pacing outside of his apartment, freaking out about whether you should knock or not. You’d held your hand up to knock a few times, but ultimately let it fall to your side, cursing your cowardice. It was just a door. He was just a man. A man who really cared about you. A man who wanted you. That thought should have had you jumping into his arms at every given opportunity, instead, it was causing heart palpitations at the thought of knocking on a door.

In the end, you didn’t have to knock.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” You heard his voice from behind you as you jumped in place, startled by the fact that he was actually there.

“Shit, Spencer, don’t do that, you scared me.” You grabbed your chest and took a deep breath. He stood still, waiting for your answer to his previous question.

“I was just… Can I come in?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah of course, here let me…” His words trailed off as he grabbed his keys from his pocket, fumbling them slightly as he struggled to get the key into the door.

“Take a seat wherever you… Can, I guess? Sorry, I was doing some reading before I left.” He smiled awkwardly as you walked into the space, and you giggled a little at the confession, seeing that there was really only one open space on the couch left for you to occupy without having to perch awkwardly on the arm of the chair.

You took the seat, moving a single book onto a stack on the sofa next to you, and watched the man as he took off his scarf and coat, storing them and then awkwardly turning back to the couch. He looked around for a place to sit, and, coming to the same conclusion as you did, chose to perch himself on the opposite arm of the sofa to you.

“Oh, Spencer, this is your house, you should sit comfortably.”

“No, you’re a guest, it’s fine. I want you to feel comfortable. What did you want to talk about?” He cleared his throat a little and then turned his eyes back to you, signaling that he was ready to listen attentively.

“Oh…. I was hoping…. Spencer, can you touch me?” You saw his face flush at your suggestion, and your eyes widened at your own foolish wording.

“Shit, not like that. Not that I don’t want you to touch me like that, but I think it’s too soon, and I’m still not comfortable with that. I was just hoping that you could, you know, hold me for a while, like a hug or something?” You rambled it all out, and you could hear yourself rambling but you couldn’t stop it. The words dropped from your mouth before you could even think about stopping them, and you felt the blood rush to your head as you cringed slightly at the situation.

“Okay.”

“Okay? You’re…. You’re okay with that?” You asked, looking hopefully up at Spencer.

“Do you want to sit together, or were you thinking something else?” You jumped up from your seat then, and glanced around the room as you considered his words.

“Oh, um, sitting together would be good I suppose?” He nodded and lifted himself up from the arm, moving closer to you.

“I’m going to sit here, you should probably just join me when you want to, okay?” He whispered the words with a tender smile on his face, and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders disappear. It was incredible that he could do that with a simple smile, that with one glance he could relax your whole body enough to let you push yourself to the limits of your fear.

You gained some confidence, and after letting him get settled in the seat you had just vacated, you moved to straddle his lap. You heard his sharp intake of breath as you wrapped your arms up around his neck, nervously wondering if what you were doing was right.

“Is this okay for you, Y/N?” He asked, stuttering through the words as he struggled to stay focused on you.

“It’s okay now. I want to push myself a little.” You ran your hands down his arms, which had so far lain politely still on the sofa beside him before you pulled them around yourself, letting the hug deepen. He was warm, and between the two of you, you weren’t sure whose heartbeat was louder. You could hear both of them, the room totally still except for your breaths and blinks.

“Y/N, can I… can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You whispered the word in a voice so small, you were sure he hadn’t heard it, as his head crept towards you so slowly you were sure he wasn’t moving. Eventually, you felt his breath on your skin more, and then his lips were softly pressing against your own, the pressure gentle, not demanding any more than what you were currently giving him.

You melted into it, pushing yourself further into his warmth, your chests now pressed together as he languidly moved his lips against yours, claiming them again and again and again. You kept pushing and pushing into him, growing more sloppy in your kisses, grabbing onto the back of his sweater with two desperate fists, needing him close.

It wasn’t until your hips bucked involuntarily in his lap, unconsciously demanding friction that you began to panic once again, immediately pulling your lips and torso out of his reach.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I can’t… it’s… shit it’s not you, Spencer. God, I’m such an idiot.” You pulled your hands over your eyes, embarrassed at the thought of being seen by him right then, but still firmly seated in his lap.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said, pulling your hands away from your face with a gentle touch. “It’s okay, Y/N. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” You nodded at his words and took a few more minutes to compose yourself.

“Can we…can we just cuddle for a while? Like this?” You asked, and his smile instantly became bright.

“I would love to. Let’s move some of these books though.” You shifted the books quickly and then fell back into his lap, his body now laying more vertically than before, stretching out into the larger space now available on the couch. You pushed your head into his chest, listening to his heartbeat, following it with your own, and letting it be the soundtrack to your descent into sleep.

–X–

Waking up in his arms was a life-changing experience. Sometime during your sleep, he had carried you to his bed, letting you sleep soundly as he made you more comfortable. He hadn’t taken any of your clothes off, of course, just removed your shoes and made sure you were warm enough in the skirt and blouse you had been wearing.

Your position had changed, too, and it was one of the first things you noticed as you blinked your eyes open, trying to rid them of sleep as you greeted the new day. Instead of being below you, he was behind you, pressed against you with a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him like a child clutching a favored toy.

“Spence,” you whispered through a grin. “Spencer, wake up.” You turned your head around to him, but he moaned in his sleep, not wanting to leave his rest just yet. You giggled at his childlike petulance, trying to shift around to face him, but his grip was too tight. Pushing against him, you felt something, hard, pushing against your back. You shifted again, but it was still there, and it took you only a few more seconds to figure out what it was.

“Shit, Spencer, wake up,” your tone probably sounded more frantic than you felt, as it woke him quickly now, his body releasing yours enough to let him pull himself up, taking stock of the room as he looked around searching for what had panicked you.

“What is it, are you okay?” He returned his eyes to your face, but your gaze had slipped down his body, and through the much looser fitting sweatpants he’d thrown on at some point during the night, you could see the outline of his cock.

Curiously, the very sight didn’t have you bolting, as it had in situations in the past. You had frozen, of course, but you weren’t filled with as much dread as you had been only a few days prior with his confession.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, it’s a biological reaction and… well it’s not purely biological, I do really have feelings for you, but I don’t want you to feel pressured, and… Let me go and get rid of this.” He moved to stand, but you grabbed his arm before he could completely pull away, his hand still resting on your waist.

“Wait… Could we continue from where we were last night?” You looked up at him, the embarrassment of your words sending a rush of adrenaline through your body, almost forcing you to take them back immediately.

“You… you want that?” For the second time in 24 hours, a whispered ‘yes’ was all it took to have him crash his lips into yours. The pressure was the same, but with his body hovering over yours, it felt even more intimate. His hands rubbed small reassuring circles on your hips, as you opened up to him, wanting to pull the full force of his weight down onto you.

His hand fell to your face as he encouraged you to open your mouth to his tongue, letting him explore it thoroughly as he lazily worked his mouth against your own. There was no fight for dominance here, just two people deeply exploring the feeling of one another, so wrapped up in the pleasure that no other thoughts could cross your minds. Not even that of fear.

He pulled away for a breath, and your lips trailed him, trying to capture him again and force him back to you, but he evaded you softly.

“Y/N, can I try something? I want to touch you…more. Is that okay?” You were so desperate for the feeling of his lips against yours again that you moaned out the yes before you even processed his words. His lips fell back against yours, but his weight shifted above you as his right hand trailed down your leg and then back up underneath your skirt.

The touch was so delicate that you shivered under the attention, but you felt your heart start beating faster and faster as he got closer to your center. He asked you once again, and you agreed before he finally touched you through the safety of your panties.

You moaned into the kiss as he cupped you, letting his thumb fall to your clit and beginning to explore you more. He swallowed each and every sound you made with his lips, committing every move you made, every reaction to memory. You grew more pliable under all his attentions, growing comfortable in reacting to his every movement, letting him control the pace and flow of your shared caresses. A heat was growing at the depth of your stomach, and you knew it was coming.

Your brain finally kicked back into gear as your orgasm washed over you, your eyes jolting open as he released your mouth, the breathless moan that erupted from you causing your entire body to tense up. You pushed him away, and clutched your chest, scrambling up into a seated position as he quickly noted the change in your body language, letting you out of his grip.

You struggled to get your breathing out of control, desperately searching for a way out, an excuse, or anything to say to make you feel better, but you came up blank.

“I’m sorry… I’m really…” You couldn’t force out any other words before you jumped out of his bed and bolted out of the apartment, having ruined everything again for the second time.

–X–

Another week ticked by before you knew it, and you still hadn’t talked to Spencer since he’d pushed you over the edge. The fact that he hadn’t tried to talk to you either had you convincing yourself that it meant whatever you shared was over now.

It was a nice feeling to share, but you couldn’t keep it up forever, just like you hadn’t been able to in any of your previous relationships. But there was something about Spencer that you didn’t want to give up on, so you didn’t.

You spent the week looking up advice on how to deal with your fear, booking appointments with Sex Therapists, and, to put it kindly, getting your body used to the idea of sexual interaction. You bought a small vibrator a day or two after you slept over at his house, nothing that would enter you, just something to play with to increase your confidence as you prepared yourself to apologize to him.

But despite all of your efforts, the tension was still running high in the team as they all noticed the sudden disconnect between you and your maybe-boyfriend.

So, with the newly discovered commitment to self-improvement, you found yourself at his door again on another Friday night, this time confidently knocking at the first attempt.

“Y/N, you’re here.” He said, mouth hanging open slightly as his unasked question hung in the air.

“I wanted to talk. About everything.”

“Sure, come in, come in.” He shut the door behind you, and you didn’t bother walking further than the entryway before you started again, not wanting to lose your conviction.

“Spencer, I want you to make love to me. I freaked out last time, and I ran away, and that was so shitty of me, but I think I’m ready now - I went to see this therapist and she gave me some advice, and I’ve been… I’ve been touching myself so I can get myself used to the idea of someone else touching me. And you’re the only person who I want to touch and to touch me, and you’re everything I’ve been thinking about, and I don’t want you to avoid me anymore or think this isn’t going anywhere.” You were almost breathless as you finished, having let your sentences blur into one, not bothering to pause in your exploration.

“Oh, thank god,” Spencer said, wrapping his hands around you suddenly, pulling you to him with a strength you didn’t know he had. “Well, not thank god that you want to have sex with me, thank god that I didn’t push it too far. I thought you hated me after last time, I thought I was trying to selfishly get you to open up too quickly, and I felt so bad about it.” He rambled just the same as you had, not letting go of you for all the world.

“You know, I’ve checked out like 50 books on sexual psychology from the University library this week, I was afraid the librarian was going to call the police on me for creepy behavior or something.” He laughed into you, letting his head drop to your shoulder as he held you comfortably.

“Spencer, that is so sweet.” You felt the sugar in your grin, knowing that this unabashed happiness wasn’t going away anytime soon, any negative feelings at being held this closely dissipating when faced with the love of his actions.

“I’m going to ask again, is that okay?” You nodded at his boyish grin, and he grinned down at you fondly.

“Y/N, may I kiss-” You didn’t let him finish, pushing yourself up on your toes to lock your lips with his before he could.

“Yes. Always yes.” You said releasing him, foreheads resting together.

“I know, but I like to ask.” His lips were on you again then, as he walked you back through his apartment, not stopping once to release your lips. Before you knew it, he was picking you up, and gently returning you to the bed you’d bolted from the week before.

He released you for a breath, and you pushed your top up and off, throwing it to the ground as he stared at you like you had personally each and every star in the sky.

“You’re amazing. I’m so proud of you.” He mumbled the words into your skin, before letting his hands once again fall under your skirt, beginning to massage your ass with a firm but still loving embrace. He pulled you against him again, your kisses becoming more and more needy as you felt him grow against you, with each stroke of his tongue forcing your hips to rub together deliciously.

“You know,” he spoke slowly, letting his lips fall down your neck and chest. “All of the literature I read suggested that foreplay was a good way to combat Genophobia. The more prepared you are for the actual sexual act, the less you worry about the ‘pain’ of it all.”

“What are you saying, Spencer?” You whispered, your heart beating fast, but not in an uncomfortable way anymore.

“I’m saying I want to make you feel good. Can I?” His lips had reached your skirt then, and he said the words as his head rested against your thigh, hands slowly pushing your legs wider and wider.

You nodded, and he dived in, at first licking through your underwear as you moaned and writhed underneath him. His hands worked the panties down your legs as he kissed your inner thighs, pushing your skirt up and over your hips so you could watch his every move.

“Fuck Spencer,” you ground into his face again as he returned his tongue to your now soaking hole, desperately chasing the pleasure of his attention. You’d had the time to explore this week, obviously, but it was nothing like this. Every kiss, every suck, every lick, spoke a thousand words to his devotion to you, his love being pressed into you from between your legs. You didn’t know it could be like this. You didn’t think it would be with anyone who wasn’t him.

“Spencer, I can feel it…. Spencer, don’t stop.” You worked a hand into his hair and shamelessly bucked into him now, you high hitting you just like you knew it would. If the first time had been a surprise, this time had been an inevitability. You felt him keep up his ministrations, letting you ride out the full wave of pleasure. When he finally pulled away, he looked into your eyes for confirmation that everything he’d done was okay. Moving a hand to wipe your arousal from his mouth, you stopped him mid-motion and pulled him back on top of you, wrapping your tongue around his own and delighting in the taste of his success.

“Let’s keep going,” you said softly into his ear, and he moaned his approval, before quickly divesting himself of his pants and grabbing a condom from his bedside table.

“Morgan got me a pack of these at Christmas, as a joke, y’know,” he laughed, kissing down your neck again, paying special attention to the few spots darkening to splashes of red.

“Not the time, Spencer,” you laugh at him, and he squeaks out an apology before lining himself up with you.

“You’re sure this is what you want?” He asks, a concerned look plastered on his face, and you pull him down for one short tender kiss before answering again.

“I have never been so sure of any decision I have made in my life, as I am sure about you.” He pressed a kiss to your lips in thanks and then slowly began to fill you up.

There was a small panic in the back of your mind, but he kissed praise into your skin, replacing all of your negative thoughts with nothing but his words, his actions, his love. You relaxed as he stretched you out, not moving his hips but letting his hand return between your legs to help you further adjust to the newness of it all.

You saw a panicked look fall across his face as he kissed away small tears that fell from your eyes, each a small apology for the pain, the confusion of your mixed emotions, but you just laughed his concern away.

“Happy tears, Spencer. They’re happy tears.” He laughed with you then, and with one last seeking out of your approval, you began to move together. His thrusts were slow, lavishing you with attention, letting you feel all of him as his body sought your pleasure. Your legs wrapped around him, unable to stop the desperate need to buck up, up, up with each of his downward strokes.

You were a mess of limbs and kisses, neither of you experienced enough to know how to do anything past what felt good, what felt natural, and you spent your time together like that, giggling with each chaste kiss, moaning and sighing as you both worked your way up to an ecstatic release.

Falling down on top of you after you came together, Spencer didn’t pull out, holding you somehow closer than before as you both let the oxygen return to your lungs.

“I love you,” he whispered into your lips.

“I love you,” you whispered back.

Yes, it was not going to be like that with anyone else. And you didn’t want anyone else at all, now that you finally had him.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #requested #❤️‍🩹 Anon

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nctsplug02 · 2 years ago

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dad johnny pls i just need some johnny fluff but idm smut toooo

[11:46AM]

GENRE: fluff, angst and smut.

WARNINGS: slight flirting, kissing, mentions of bugs, jealousy, sexual touching, shower sex, fingering, clit play, nipple play, creampie and spanking!

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

a faint, “come in,” is heard from the other side.

you nod your head to the five year old who nods back and pushes the office door open.

“daddy!” the boy screeches and johnny quickly stands from his chair. “soobin! hey, buddy.” johnny lets out a grunt when the boy crashes himself onto his legs.

his happy meal nearly slips from his hands when he attempts to wrap his short arms around his dads leg.

“soobs, be careful with daddy— and your happy meal!” you tut and kick the door shut. “ah, it’s alright.” johnny picks up the boy who mutters an apology.

you huff and walk towards the desk, setting down the bag of burgers and fries and the tray of drinks.

“i know it’s unhealthy but, soobin really wanted some nuggets and.. i kind of wanted some too.” your eyes crease into crescent moon shape at your confession.

“ah, that’s alright, honey,” johnny walks over to you with his son on his hip. “you know i’ll eat anything. thank you.” he wraps an arm around your waist and softly grins, ducking his head down and pressing his lips on yours with a soft groan.

“ack! eww!” you pull away with a laugh when hearing your sons gags. “uch, i want off!” your son presses his tiny hands on johnnys chest and wiggles out from johnnys hold.

johnny laughs and leans his head on yours. “cmon, soobs. you know you love kisses from mommy and i.” johnny picks up the boy who shrieks and wiggles around.

the corner of your lips stretch outwards and you carefully snatch the happy meal box from your son, placing it next to the tray of drinks.

“cmon, soobs! give mommy and daddy a kiss!” johnny puckers his lips and leans forward.

you rest your hand on johnnys arm and lean forward, making a kissing noise as you tease the five year old.

“no, no!” the boy giggles wildly.

johnny tickles the boy once more before placing him back on his feet.

“ooh— pfftt!” the boy goes limp and falls on the ground dramatically. “my legs are broken.” the boy huffs and puffs tiredly.

“cmon, buddy.” johnny reaches down and picks up the boy, holding him in his arms in a bridal style. “okay, you two. let’s eat, yeah?”

johnny and soobin groan. johnny sets the boy down and straightens out his tux.

you were busy taking out two burgers for you and johnny and two bowls of salads. “ew, you got salad, babe?”

“well, if you don’t want the salad then i can eat it. it’s not a big deal, hon.” johnny shakes his head. “i know it’s not, i’m sorry.” johnny hugs you tightly and presses a kiss on your temple.

KNOCK KNOCK!

“mr suh,” you and johnny both turn at the sudden knocking and name calling. “im really sorry to interrupt but ms keech is waiting downstairs and is ready to start the presentation.”

“thanks, mark. you can send her up.” the man nods and closes the door with a soft click.

johnny sighs and pulls away from you. “lunch will just have to wait for me.” you turn and grin at him. “i can wait with you—?”

“no, no. eat, honey. eat with soobin and i can eat later on my own time.” you nod and tilt your head.

johnny smiles and cups your face, leaning down and pressing his lips on yours.

“okay, i’m gonna go find a bathroom and i’ll be back in just a moment.” you pat johnnys chest. “by the elevators, baby.” you nod and leave his office.

“daddy, can you help me open my toy?” soobin holds up his toy in a plastic bag.

johnny nods. “sure.” he takes the toy from the boy and rips the bag open, pulling out the toy and handing it to his son.

“a spider-man action figure, what?!” johnny laughs at his son who freaks out over a small action figure.

KNOCK KNOCK!

“come in!”

the door swings open and a strawberry blonde headed women walks in. “hello— oh, i didn’t know we’d be having someone else joining us.”

“ah, ms keech. this is my son, soobin.” johnny pulls the boy in front of his legs and leans down with a smile.

“soobin,” johnny squats down. “this is ms keech, she’s gonna help daddy with a work project so you’ll have to sit on the couch over there, okay?” soobin eyes the blonde before nodding.

johnny nudges the boy and soobin walks over to the sofa with his happy meal and chocolate milk in his hands.

johnny fixes his tie and clears his throat. “ms keech, please have a seat. i’ll pull up a chair for you and we can talk about the details.” the blonde tucks her hair behind her shoulder and nods.

“would you like some coffee, ms keech?” johnny asks, pulling out her chair.

the women sits. “if it isn’t too much to ask for.” johnny shakes his head and leaves the office.

soobin eyes the blonde, again. “hi, soobin.” the women’s voice catches the boy off guard. “what’d you get from your happy meal?” soobin blankly stares at her.

blink.

“okay.. you’re a shy one.” she nods and clears her throat, looking away from the boy.

johnny bursts through the door and comes back with two cups of coffee. “for ms keech.”

“thank you,” she thanks johnny and accepts the coffee. “and, please, call me pearl.” johnny softly chuckles and nods, sitting in his seat and opening his laptop.

soobin gives a stank face and presses his lips thinly.

the door opens once, again and there you appear. “sorry, mark stopped me— oh, hi.” your eyebrows furrow.

“hi, honey.” johnny smiles.

“hello,” the women tilts her head. “i’m pearl keech, and you are?” you shut the door with a soft click.

“y/n,” you nod. “y/n suh.”

the women smiles and nods. “nice meeting you, mrs suh.”

“you too.”

you walk over to your son while your eyes are stuck glued onto johnny and the women. “hi, soob. did you eat yet?” you join your son.

“not yet. i’m busy watching daddy and that lady.” you softly laugh and sigh. “that lady has a name, soobs. her name is ms keech. let’s have some respect and call her by her name, okay?” the boy nods.

“i’m gonna get my food and then we can eat together, yeah?” soobin nods and watches as you get up and grab your food.

you come back and the two of you begin to eat.

“soobs, you’re such a messy eater!” you giggle and grab a kleenex off the table, bunching it up and wiping his chin.

“no, mama, you are.” the boy grabs a kleenex and wipes your lips.

the two of you laugh before two loud sighs are heard. “honey,” you turn your head to see your husband and ms keech slightly irritated. “keep it down, please?”

“i’m sorry, we didn’t realize we were that loud.” you smile and tilt your head.

you bring your attention back to your son who gives you the look before the two of you begin to quietly giggle.

about ten minutes pass and you and your son are back to giggling over his funny hair style.

“mamas turn, mamas turn!” you hand soobin a hair tie and you duck your head.

soobin grabs a portion of your hair and ties it with the hair tie. “you look like a unicorn, mama!” he giggles and you lift your phone, analyzing yourself in the front camera before laughing.

“at least i don’t have shrek ears?” soobin laughs harder and leans himself onto your folded knee.

“y/n, soobin.” the two of you go silent before looking towards johnnys desk.

his stare was more of a glare.

“we’re sorry, dad—?”

“please leave my office. you guys are causing a distraction between ms keech and i’s time. we need all the time we can to work on our presentation so it would do ms keech and i some justice if the two of you could leave for a moment.”

you tilt your head and squint your eyes.

soobin follows.

he really was your son.

“we’re sorry,” you lick your dry lips. “soobin, grab mommy’s purse for me.” soobin slips off the couch and walks over to the single chair in front of johnnys desk and snatches the purse.

you gather the trash on the coffee table and follow soobin out the office.

“are we going home now, mama?” you dump the garbage into the trash can at the end of the hallway.

“no, we’re gonna go to uncle taeyongs office.” soobin gasps and cheers.

you take your bag from your son and you take his hand.

the two of you walk over to taeyongs office. soobin knocks on the door and taeyong lets the two of you in.

“daddy kicked us out.” soobin says as soon as he walks into the small office.

taeyong looks at you with a confused face and you nod. “yep. he’s in his office with pearl keech and they’re working on a presentation.. i guess soobs and i were too loud so he kicked us out.”

“it’s okay, the two of you can hang out with me. it’s a little boring but i make it work sometimes.” taeyong shurgs.

“thank you, taeyong. you’re a dime.”

“..the end. that’s it for the “if you give a mouse a cookie” book. now, it’s time for bed.” soobin sighs and nods, shifting himself under his blankets.

“can we maybe read one more book?”

you softly laugh. “nice try, mister. it’s time for bed.”

CREEAAAKK!

you turn your head to see your husband standing in the door with with his blazer hooked around his forearm.

you clear your throat and turn back to your son. “goodnight, honey. i love you and i’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?” the boy nods and you plant a kiss on his forehead.

you stand up and face your husband.

without saying anything, you walk past your husband with a sigh.

“goodnight, buddy. daddy loves you lots.” you hear johnny say to soobin as you leave his room.

you make it to your bedroom before johnny walks in. “honey,” you don’t look up, instead you walk over to the closet and grab a towel.

“baby,” you push past him and walk to the bathroom. “i’m sorry.” johnny follows you to the bathroom.

johnny senses the cold shoulder from you and sighs once more. “please talk to me.”

you start the shower and hang your towel on the hook next to the shower door. “baby,” your knees buckle at the way that name rolls off his tongue.

“i’d like to be alone, please.” you begin undressing yourself and johnny clears his throat. “well?” you look over your shoulder as you drop your bra.

johnny sits on the closed toilet.

you sigh and toss the rest of your clothes into a pile before opening the shower door and stepping it.

it’s completely silent beside the water splatting against the shower tiles.

you don’t even look back when you hear the shower door open. “johnny, i said i wanted to be alone—?” you turn and see your husband standing behind you, still fully dressed.

“your clothes, johnny!” your hands go to his shoulders and you begin unbuttoning his button up. “now, i’m gonna have to do laundry tonight.” you sigh and johnny grabs your wrist.

“please listen to me, y/n.” you press your tongue against your cheek. “look at me.” you look down to see the water seeping into the drain. “y/n, look at me.” he says more sternly.

you look up at him and bite the inside of your cheek.

johnny brings his hand up to your cheek and sighs. “look, im really sorry about earlier. i’m sorry for kicking you and soobin out earlier. it was so out of place for me to yell at you and soobs. but, keech and i couldn’t focus with you and soobs giggling and screeching. i’m sorry.”

you shrug, pulling his hand away from you and turning around. “it’s okay, i guess.” you stand under the water and let it soak you up.

even though the water was scorching hot, goosebumps still managed to rise from your skin.

johnny had joined you with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin rested on your shoulder. “i’m sorry, baby.”

you grab your white loofah and squirt some of your bath & body work shower gel into it before fluffing it together and scrubbing your arm. you tip your head back and begin scrubbing your neck.

you don’t look back when hearing wet and heavy thuds on the ground behind you.

but your movements come to a halt when johnnys hand slip below your hips. “john—?”

“shhh,” johnny shushes you and begins rubbing your clit. “just let me show you how sorry i am, yeah?”

your hand slowly drops and your eyes flutter shut while johnny works his fingers in circles on your clit.

“oh, god.” you softly gasp and drop your loofah.

you gasp and let out a soft yelp when johnny suddenly pins you against the glass door. “ohmygod,” you whisper, your hot breath fogging up the glass.

a whine rolls up your throat when johnny removes his hand from your clit and brings it back to your ass.

you yelp when he spanks you and he uses his fingers to tease your pussy. you bring yourself into your tiptoes when johnny slips in two of his fingers.

“there we go, baby.” johnny bites his lips and watches as your cunt sucks his fingers in.

you whimper and push your hips back when feeling no movement from johnny. “please, johnny.”

johnny groans and pulls back his fingers before gently pushing them back in. “more, john, please?” you whine and johnny presses one kiss on your shoulder before thrusting his fingers into you.

“how’s this, baby?” you let out a cry mixed with a frustrated groan as johnny brushes his finger tips against your g-spot.

you rest your forehead on the glass and you bite your lip. your toes curling up as your orgasm grows threatening closer.

“j—johnny, im really close.” you cry out and johnny nods with soft tuts. “go on, baby. show me how good my fingers make you feel.”

you push your hips back as your orgasm hits. your head dropping and a loud moan rippling from your throat.

johnny quickly slaps a hand over your mouth and shushes you. “do you want to wake up soobs?” you shake your head. “that’s what i thought. now, keep quiet.”

“let’s see how good this pretty pussy can take me, hm?” johnny removes his fingers from you and grabs himself, lowering himself and using his tip to tease you.

then finally, he gives you what you what by pushing into you.

your moan slips past johnnys hand that still covered your mouth. “fuck,” johnny grinds against you and groans.

“look how beautifully you take me.” johnnys hand slips from your mouth and finds themselves on your hips. johnnys grip tightens around your thick hips and he backs up, pulling your hips with him.

your palms and cheek pressed against the glass while johnny holds you at a 90° angle. your legs parted and your back arched.

your cheek smacks against the glass repeatedly as johnny begins slowly pounding his hips into yours.

“oh, god.” you gasp, and clench around his thickness.

“god can’t help you in this situation, baby.” johnny lands a smack on your ass and the water running off your ass echos the slap as if he’d spanked you harshly.

johnny rubs your ass before pistoling his hips into yours. his balls hitting your clit. his hips smacking against your plush ass.

“j—john—john!” your hand flies back to his abdomen and you attempt stop him and his crazy thrusts.

johnny brings his right hand up to your hair and grabs a good grip of your locks. “ahh—ow!” you wince and gasp when johnny yanks you up.

your face burning and your vision turning black as johnny holds your head to his chest. “you’re so pretty, baby.” you bite your lip and groan.

johnny pauses his thrusts and uses his left hand to hold your stomach, right underneath your breasts. he then allows his right hand to release your hair.

your head drops and your back hit his front. johnny holds you against his chest and brings his right hand down to your clit.

“i’m sorry if that hurt, baby.” johnny presses a kiss on your shoulder and re-begins his thrusts.

like a menace, johnny plows into you like there’s no tomorrow. all that while rubbing your clit.

“babebabebabe— oh, fuck!” you cry out, feeling overwhelmed from all the amazing pleasures at once.

johnny presses soft kisses on your shoulder while he brings your orgasm closer. “johnny, im gonna cum.” you grab his wrist but he nibbles on your earlobe.

“then cum, baby.” johnny whispers.

“your pussy feels so good, baby. i’m gonna fucking cum in your tight pussy.” johnny grits his teeth. “that’s how fucking good your pussy is.”

you bring a hand up to your harden nipple and you begin to pinch them. twisting them between your fingers.

“‘fuckin’ love your pussy, baby. i love it so fucking much.” you whine and lean forward.

your legs quiver and buckle weakly.

thank goodness for johnnys big strong arms being able to hold you up.

your loud and whiny moans cover johnnys rough groans and grunts.

“johnny— oh, my god.” johnny grinds his hips into yours while pushing his load into you. “fuck, y/n.” johnny sighs and stands up.

“oh, shit!” johnny exclaims when seeing you drop to the shower tiles. “baby,” johnny picks you up and hugs you against his chest. “you okay?”

you laugh and nod. “just a little weak in the legs.”

“so,” johnny sighs and you look up at him. “you forgive me or should i try, again?” you laugh and bite your lip. “i forgive you,” you look up at him and tilt your head. “but, i wouldn’t mind going.. again?”

johnnys gaze turns hungry, again. “oh, you’re dirty.” you laugh as johnny shuts off the shower and pushes open the shower door.

johnny apologized to soobin the next morning and soobin said he’d only accept if his dad got him wing stop with ranch.

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brisquad-unit-4402 · 1 year ago

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nightmare hug

it’s my birthday today btw. december 15. sonny be upon ye. i started three new wips with him in the last few weeks ack i wasn’t kidding when i said he was very in my head lately!

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, cuddling

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──��

You wake up in bleariness and immobility. Underneath the pile of blankets, a greater weight holds you down, stifling your skin and refusing to let you turn out of your position.

It’s nothing to fear. If anything, it’s welcomed. Usually Sonny keeps to his own side of the bed, and the most contact you wake up to is a limb barely touching yours. On the rare occasions he falls asleep with you in his arms, he’s quick to hide it, and considering how he’s the first to wake between you there’s no telling how many morning cuddles you’ve missed out on.

Long fingers and short nails wire around your waist. If you can’t hear his breathing, then you can feel it: a steady rise-and-fall rhythm along your shoulder where he presses his head. His hair prickles your skin while his breathing soothes.

A slow morning hum falls out of your mouth as your voice comes back to life. It’s the prelude to fully waking up, and when Sonny retracts his arms before you can open your eyes.

Except he doesn’t. Even as you snort awake, his hands remain where they are.

“Good morning, Sonny,” you start. You’re so sleepy that it barely becomes a whisper.

It surprises you that he’s just as sleepy as you, too. “Morning.”

“How’d you sleep?”

You’re greeted with silence.

“Not great?”

Sonny buries his head closer to your neck without a word. “That bad, huh.”

When he mumbles you can feel his throat vibrate against your skin. “Mmmyeah.”

“Awww. Well, it’s morning.” You force one arm out of the blanket pile and manage to pat his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll fight off the bad sleep demons any day of the week.”

“I just want a hug.”

“Hugs over fights? Who are you and what did you do to Sonny—“

His hands squeeze tighter. You didn’t even know his nails could dig into your skin like this. He’s clinging on like you’re a stuffed animal, but the amusement ends once you realize that’s not just a sleepy tremble. Sonny is actually quivering.

It’s even rarer for Sonny to let himself be vulnerable.

“C’mon.” Your voice goes soft as you turn around to face him. He stays where he is, holding you while his head is buried to your throat.

He’s practically motionless save for his quivers, which you work out by stroking his back. Your hand draws circles along him, occasionally punctuated by a pat or two. “You’re where you belong, right here at home. You’re safe with me.”

His breath, too, is shaky, little clouds of heat curling around your chest as he tries to form words. “I don’t even remember what it was about. I shouldn’t be so…” His grip tightens. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. These things happen. It doesn’t make you any less of a person, and it doesn’t make you a nuisance, either.”

He grunts. “Feels like I’m a failure whenever I’m like this, though.”

His hair is silky under your hands, and softer under your lips. “I love you, Sonny. No matter what you think of yourself, I’ll still love you, and I’ll always remind you that you deserve to be loved.” Another kiss to his temple. “Thank you for trusting me enough to let your guard down. Being the one you can rely on is a privilege to me, and one I do not take lightly.

“I don’t think you could ever be a failure, even if you tried,” you say. “You take such good care of me, so I’ll happily return the favor. It’s what I’m here for.”

When you stop talking, nothing follows but quiet. It’s just the sound of your arm brushing against sheet and skin as you massage him, soothing whatever unspoken worries he has left.

When you raise his head your fingers rest along his jaw. “You’re my hero, Sonny. You’re the strongest person I know. No matter what.”

One of his pale hands bumps along to yours. His palm drags against the corner of his hidden eyes. His lashes flutter by the crease of your lip as you kiss the stress away.

Sonny’s shoulders raise when you part with eyes barely open, tide pool blue glossed over with restraint and legs tangled around yours, stunned and scared, a combination you’ve never seen on him.

The restraint falls with a hiccup. He chokes on air as you hold him. His hands lower you down as he clings to you, and for the first time in a long time, Sonny allows himself the right to cry.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ ⁭masterpost ✧. ┊ ⁭kofi

#sonny brisko #sonny brisko x reader #sonny brisko fluff #sonny brisko headcanons #noctyx #noctyx x reader #noctyx fluff #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en #4402 writes

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pearlescent-poppies · 11 days ago

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Hello!

And welcome to Day 2!!!!

Forgot to put this here yesterday but there is a playlist for the fics of this event! So you can enjoy some carefully selected songs while you read!

To preface today’s, I know I said they’d get more Christmasy as time goes on, but this is the only exception!

Anyways, pretty short message from me today! But I hope everyone enjoys (and please once again leave your thoughts with me here or on AO3):

Day 2: QPR Mumscarian, Gift Exchange

For: @starrysilv3rse

I hope you love this Silver! They’re so silly!!!!

(Fic under the cut)

Scar hums along to the Christmasy vinyl record he has playing as he stirs the pot of homemade hot chocolate on the stove. It’s Christmas Eve, and with the big celebration the hermits do every year, Mumbo, Grian, and himself have taken to celebrating a little early. Just for the three of them.

They throw on Scar’s collection of Christmas records, don their best ugly sweaters, and enjoy the company of their partners. It’s perfect and so predictable after all the years they’ve done it that it just feels all the more special. Though- he does have a bit of a surprise this time around.

———

“Scar~” Grian calls in a sing-song as he enters the train. Wings folding against his back gracefully and into a heart shape.

“Gri!” The taller exclaims, signature grin growing brighter, “How was the flight? And come in here so I can kiss you,” he chuckles.

With his own set of laughs, the avian rounds the corner and happily bounds over to Scar. He has to pause for a moment to take in the sight, the elf has always been pretty to Grian, it’s just a fact of life, but especially like this. Wearing a tacky sweater, long hair tied back into a bun with pieces left to frame his face, and his cane in hand. Sue the guy, he may be aroace but both of his partners are ridiculously attractive, he still has standards thank you. “How have the preparations been coming along? Not overworking yourself are you?” He teases.

“Oh, not anymore than usual,” Scar turns to wink. The blonde is sent into a fit of adoring giggles and he finally closes the distance to peck Scar’s lips, having to use his wings to get him a little air since his partner isn’t expecting it.

“Well hello there,” the elf says in response and pushes the pot of hot chocolate off the burner to avoid scorching. With that properly taken care of, he wraps his free arm around Grian and leans down for a more proper kiss, though not a lingering one.

“Hello Scar,” he greets in return, relaxing into the arm around his waist, “Missed you.”

“I missed you too, your stuff is all looking amayzin’ though this season!”

Grian scoffs playfully, “Says you Mr. Biome-Maker! Absolute madman. Thank you though.”

Just as they’re about to continue talking, a half crashing sound rattles through the caboose and Grian and Scar share a look. Well that could only mean one thing.

Sure enough, in comes their third. Mumbo has a Santa hat on his head and a sweater that looks like a suit. “Ack! I’m so sorry I’m late! I’m so sorry I’m late. Oh goodness, oh gosh, this is just pants,” he continues to stumble through his words.

“Mumbo! Slow down! You aren’t late, I quite literally just got here too,” Grian laughs.

“Oh! Well that’s good! Hello,” he greets after processing the avian’s words.

“Hi Mumbo,” Scar rolls his eyes fondly and lets Grian to press a kiss to Mumbo’s cheek.

Mumbo coughs violently at the action and shouts, “SCAR!”

The elf snickers, “Mumbo we’ve all been together for almost 7 years now, you should be used to a cheek kiss.”

“W-well- well-” he stutters, trying to come up with a justification. As Scar walks back into the kitchen to serve the hot chocolate and sugar cookies he’d made, Grian presses a kiss to Mumbo’s other cheek.

“You’re silly. How are you? Haven’t seen you much since Wild Life?” He questions and takes Mumbo’s hand, guiding them to sit on one of the couches.

“Good! I’ve been very good!” He says with a smile, “I’ve missed you and Scar like crazy though, honestly it’s rubbish we haven’t been spending much time together.”

“Agreed,” he sighs and melts into his partner’s side and cuddles up to him. When he looks up at Mumbo’s face, he’s wearing a slight pout, and it’s cuter than it has any right to be. He then has a moment of realisation and sits up with a groan, “We gotta put our presents under the tree,” he nods towards the aforementioned decoration.

“Nooo, but I’m comfortable,” his pout deepens playfully and he pulls Grian back against him when he’s about to stand up.

“But Muuumboo,” he huffs back and drawls with a smile visible in every inch of his face.

The vampire just laughs and kisses his cheek, “Hi Grian.”

He softens, “Hi Mumbo.” The avian wraps his wings around the two of them and lets them both indulge in the cuddles for a moment before he speaks again, “No but seriously, the walk isn’t far and Scar is gonna be in here any minute now. You don’t wanna ruin tradition, do you?” He jokes with a raised eyebrow. When Mumbo shakes his head, Grian says, “That’s what I thought.”

Really Mumbo was just being dramatic, it was about a three minute ordeal and suddenly they were back on the couch and cuddling again. The vampire even presses a kiss to Grian’s nose.

It had taken him a long time to feel comfortable just giving out affection like that, but now he does so easily. Or well- as easy as it gets with Mumbo. He still blushes every time without fail. His partners wouldn’t have him any other way though.

Soon, like Grian had said, Scar is joining them. He places a tray of cookies and three mugs on the coffee table, then joins the cuddle pile.

———

It’s a few hours later when they actually start their gift exchange, having taken the time to just catch up and laugh and simply enjoy being together like this.

Though they do get to the merrymaking: everyone has three gifts (a limit had to be put in place after they were opening gifts for what felt like hours on season 8) from each person. They have an order too, Scar, then Mumbo, then Grian. Not for any particular reason, that’s just how it’s always shaken out.

By the end, Scar has gotten a new set of paints and paint brushes, earrings and matching hair clips, an orchid (yes, a real one), a fancy watch, a snow globe with the Scarland castle in it (that brought tears), a 3d model of his train, and finally, a new Jellie plush, this time wearing his BAM outfit (Grian always gives him one as a seventh gift, no matter how many times he swears up and down it’ll be the last year).

Mumbo is given a new toolset he’d been eyeing, a new Polaroid camera, a tie blind box (it ends up being printed with cacti which sends Grian and Scar into a fit of giggles), a fidget ring set, a Grumbot alarm clock (which he loves more than anything, it’s his son, and!!!! It was programmed by Grian which got lots of love and praise), and some framed photos of the three of them to decorate Mumbo’s home in his base (which was accompanied by lots of praise for his builds this season).

Finally, Grian, had been gifted a new microphone (he’d been mentioning Ariana Griande needing to return for awhile), a set of charcoals for his drawings, a box set of his favourite fantasy book series, a couple new sets of chains for his glasses, his own mini Grumbot, figures of all of his snails, and in a play by Scar to turn the bit back at Grian, a parrot plush wearing his Bad Boy outfit (he’d complained, but he loves it with all his heart).

Now that they were sufficiently teared up and laughed out, Grian and Mumbo expected to go back to their cuddling, maybe turn off the vinyl still playing and turn on a film. But- Scar had other plans.

“Mumbo? Grian?” Scar spoke softly, fidgeting with his hands.

“Hm? What is it?” Grian asks with a birdlike tilt of his head, his little head wings following the motion, with one extending out.

“I uh, have one more present for you both. Or well- I guess it’s not really a present so to speak. Just something if you want it and,” He continues to ramble, only stopping when he’s cut off by Mumbo.

“Scar, buddy, deep breaths. You’re okay,” he assures gently, in a way it only seems he’s able to do with his partners.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” the elf murmurs and takes a couple deep breaths. Once he’s recovered, a shy smile and a pink blush covers his face, “You know I love you both so much. These last years with you guys have been the best of my life,” Grian catches on, and reaches for Mumbo’s hand, eyes wide as he listens, “I know we aren’t a romantic couple, and this is kinda one of those romantic couple things, but-,” he stands, fumbling with two things in his pockets before he gets to one knee and opens two, black velvet ring boxes, “We’ve never really cared about what others think of us, and I know I want to spend the rest of my life by your sides. All that said,” he takes a deep breath as a tear slides down his face, “Will you both marry me?”

Grian is the first to react; as he covers his mouth with his free hand and looks away, wings fluttering with the force of trying to keep himself from either dying with laughter, or crying his eyes out, maybe both. “I was gonna propose on new years,” he admits tenderly.

Scar’s jaw falls open, “No! No you weren’t,” he giggles, tears falling properly now.

This is when Mumbo finally recovers from his blue screen moment. He practically squawks at both declarations, “No way, there’s no way! Oh goodness, oh gosh! You two- I- I was planning for Valentine's Day! No, there's no way!” He repeats.

His own cheeks are bright red and he’s got this over dramatic look of flustered shock on his face. It’s more endearing than words can describe and so very Mumbo. It also serves to make both of the man’s partners pepper his face in kisses to turn him into an even bigger mess. Though Scar still stays where he is, on one knee for the loves of his life. Maybe they aren’t romantic. But love has many meanings, it is different for everyone. For them, it’s this blurred in between place of not completely platonic, not completely romantic. Something indescribable, but a collection of all of their beautiful shared feelings for each other. So Scar asks again, “Well I guess I beat you both to it! So, is that a yes?”

“Yes!” They both shout at the same time. They share a look between the three of them and start laughing again. It’s the best thing to do together after all.

After a round of teary giggles and kisses, Scar gets to slide the rings he’d chosen on his fiancé’s fingers.

The rings are the exact same, though in different metal colours. Dainty bands, with a little red ruby heart. Grian’s in gold, and Mumbo’s silver.

“It’s beautiful Scar, I love it,” Grian smiles and pulls him in for another quick cheek kiss.

Mumbo echoes his stuttered agreement, “Gosh, Scar, I mean- wow, I mean- you’re perfect- IT’S perfect, but you are too of course, and I- gosh I love you. Both of you” Scar leans in after the jumble of words to give Mumbo a couple of bunny kisses before finally settling on the couch with the both of them again.

Now it’s finally time to wind down. They pop How The Grinch Stole Christmas on the television with Frosty The Snowman, and Rudolph on deck to watch next. They eat more cookies, drink more cocoa and simply enjoy the rest of their Christmas Eve.

Brought together and relishing in this next step of their lives. It’s a moment they’ll take with them for the rest of time, basking in the knowledge that the best gifts in the world are the one’s sitting right next to them.

#Briar’s 12 Days Of Christmas #hermitcraft #mcyt #fan fiction #hermitshipblr #hermitshipping #hermitcraft season 10 #mumscarian #qpr mumscarian #grian #grian mc #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo

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baileypie-writes · 1 year ago

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hii could you please write a velvet x fem reader fluff?🙏 Maybe one where its winter and velvet and reader are staying warm by a fire and watching movies together or something sweet and then fall asleep together. The rest is up to you, hopefully it's not too vague I'm not good at coming up with ideas!

A/N ~ Sure! Hope you enjoy! Sorry this is so short.

~Ice Cold Hands~

Velvet x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Relationship: Romantic

Synopsis: You and Velvet are just trying to stay warm.

Warnings: None I can think of

“Ack! Hey! Keep your freezing hands away from me!” Screamed Velvet.

That had broke the peaceful silence between you two. You were sitting next to each other by the fireplace, watching a movie. You had reached to hold her hand, but she gave you that reaction.

“I was just trying to hold your hand…”

“Well you can… once they’re not ice cold!” She snapped back. You sighed at your failed attempt at being romantic, and continued watching the movie. You held your hands in front of the fireplace, feeling the pleasant warmth envelope them. Velvet copied your actions.

It was currently 26 degrees outside, and both you and Velvet were miserable. It seemed like no matter how many layers of clothing you put on, the cold would still find some way to creep in. You shuffled around, burrowing deeper into the nest of pillows and blankets that you two had built.

“I wish it was summer. I hate the cold.” Velvet mumbled.

“Me too, but I’m sure we’d both be saying the opposite if it was summer.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Soon, the movie became uninteresting to you, and you started to dose off. The warmth and peaceful crackling sounds of the fire weren’t helping to keep you awake. You were going to lay your head on Velvet’s shoulder and fall asleep, but she beat you to it.

You smiled at her sleeping figure, and wrapped the blanket you two had more securely around you guys. You grabbed the remote, and muted the movie. Then, you rested your head atop of Velvet’s, and joined her in slumber. Maybe the cold wasn’t so bad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

#trolls 3 band together #trolls 3 #trolls 3 x reader #trolls 3 velvet #trolls velvet #velvet #velvet x reader

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heathens-child · 1 month ago

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Okay this is shocking…. It’s shit!!! Ack! Fuck! I kinda rushed and I’ve only ever written one fanfiction before…. Please I’m sorry it’s crap. I can’t post it whole so I’ll post it in chunks ❤️ @eddiestardust for you, my love

Start

Blixa pov

Cold air fills my lungs as I tumble out of the bar doors. Shutting in the flashing lights and the air which was thick with the rotting stench of piss, alcohol and sweat. My mind is racing, searching for something someone to grip onto. All alone in the cold night. I sit upon the edge of the pavement and hug my knees. Nothing to do but hold myself and seek comfort from the warmth of my legs. My head aches and screams at me. I need water, my mouths become dry. This is all too much. This is all too much. This is all too much. Alone on the side walk, drowning in self pity and remorse. Tar in my lungs and pollution in my mouth, I can barely breath. Shakes have begun to wrack through my body now, likely caused by the rushing wind and over use of meth.

“Heya! What are you doing sat on the sidewalk on your own,” came the deep, voice of an Australian.

“None of your business, you filthy cheap lowlife whore,” I spit, still staring at my bony legs that are clad in black leather.

“Filthy cheap lowlife whore, eh? I’ll be remembering that insult.” the man chucked.

My eyebrows shoot up immediately, “why so you can call your mother that in bed? I’ve heard she likes being degrading.”

The man only chuckles and sits beside me. I turn to glare at him, but instead I’m met with the most stunning warm eyes. His soft looking lips were quirked up into a small grin. His jet black hair was teased and tangled, leaving only a small section of straight uneasy hair hanging down, draped over his left eyebrow and partially over his eye. I was taken aback, the man was somewhat good looking.

He turns away from me and leans forward, resting his arms on his knees and plucking some weeds out of the dirty street curb, chucking them to his left. I’m drawn to his hands, they are big and formidable, his index and thumb are decorated with metal chunky rings which stand out upon his pale skin like stars in the sky. I think he looks very camp.

“What is your name,” I ask, barley caring or listening.

“My name is Nicholas Edward Cave,” the Australian announces, feigning a posh accent, “but you can call me Nick.”

“I think I will be calling you Nicholas. I don’t like the name Nick, makes me think of the devil” I mutter, smirking at the ground. I enjoy playing people like this, playing with people who are so stupid they are thrown off by my attitude. I think I’m funny.

“Nicholas it is then! You come from around here?” Nicholas questions, intent and keen.

“No. I was born on mars. It’s quite civil up there, less so down here but eh, I can’t complain.” I reply.

“Mars huh? Guess you’re quite the traveler.” he laughs humor on his tone.

“No I hate traveling, just like I hate talking to stupid idiots.”

“Well we’ll get on great then! I hate talking to idiots too.” the tall Australian laughs heartily.

“No. We won’t be getting on. I have places to be, people to meet.” I tell him, a bland lie but he doesn’t need to know that. I stand up, the Australian quickly following suit.

“Oh… okay then! Well, see you some other day, Blixa,” He grins.

I stop short. How does he know my name?

“How do you know my name, you little fuckface?” I growl, scowling at him.

“Ah, your mother told me when I went around to fuck her last night. She’s one real good shag, once you get past the yellow eyes and weird antennas, Y’know,” the Australian purred, before turning on his heel and sauntering off into the streets.

“You fucking schlampe,” I shrieked, “when I see you next I’ll fucking rip your head off and fucking eat you, you depp hure!”

The Australian simply wanders down the path, turns left and ducks down an ally, vanishing from my view.

I suppose the lanky Australian must be a fan… but the name Nick cave sure sounds familiar. I sigh before turning and creeping back into the bar.

Nicks pov.

I sit on a ratty little sofa, broken and torn in places. My boots slung inelegantly over the arm of the sofa. What a life. Listening to the drunks and addicts swarm around into the dingy little performance hall, I doubt any of them will remember this concert tomorrow. I check my watch quickly, ten minutes. That’s enough time I suppose. I scan the room quickly, no one’s around. Perfect. I undo my shoe laces, pulling them out of the twelve little eyelets with ease. Once they’re completely out and I’m left with only the shoelace, I quickly fold it in half, wrap it around my arm once and loop it through the slight hole, wrapping it round once more, I grip the anglet with my teeth and pull gently, it hurts slightly as it pulls my skin and pinches in places. Readjusting my arm slightly I reach down into my little messager bag, lots of odd little pieces: a couple rings knocking around, a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. I feel a slight jab on my index finger, ah perfect, i clasp the the object and pull it out of the bag, a little syringe in a plastic bag. I unwrap it carefully, still griping the laces with my teeth. I place the little needle on my arm pushing it inside, a sharp fleeting pain flashes in front of me, before dying down as I begin to inject the heroin into my arm. What a feeling. I chuck the now empty syringe back into my bag and I undo the laces from around my arm. Quickly lacing them back into the eyelets, tying them up again. I flop back onto the shabby sofa, letting my head loll backwards, my eyes slide shut. I begin to think of my new muse, Blixa Bargeld. Ah what pleasure that name brings me, like honey upon the tongue or water in the mouth of a famished man. I will never forget the night I first lay eyes on him. I was drunk and high, stumbling around the street when I’d eventual heard the loud thrum of bass and the noise of a hammer upon metal, so I swayed inside the bar to see what was making the racket. I weaved my way through the crowd ignoring the loud complaints from the stupid drunks around me. The figure who stalked the stage was thin and frail. His waist was small and insignificant with ribs that protruded outwards like razors, poking out almost as If they would burst from out of the skin that stretched around them. He strode around, pacing, one long leg in front of the other, his hazel eyes glowering furiously at anyone that moved. He stalked to the left then to the right, clutching his microphone as if it was his lifeline, letting out horrific little shrieks as he paced. He stalked around for awhile longer before eventually striding towards the center stage and towards where I stood. He lent down and put his face close to the audience, His cracked lips, opened wide to let out the most dreadful shrieking noise that I’d heard yet, almost as if he was either being drowned in fire or as if he was having the most wonderful orgasm, I couldn’t place my finger on quite which one it sounded more like. His beady eyes glared and scowled furiously, scanning each member, as he carefully strode sideways, never taking his eyes away from the drunks, he was carefully edging his way closer to me. Now facing me, only inches away, our noses almost touching, he stared. His eyes were wide and pupils blown. His skin was weathered and worn, stretched around his skull. It almost looked painful, too tight around his bones. He looked in pain. His eyes were almost pleading me to help him, help him away from himself. I reached out cautiously, extending my long fingers towards his gaunt cheeks. I felt scared, unsure of what thoughts were racing though his hazy mind. I touched his cheek with the pads of my fingers, he flinched away from me, I suppose from on instinct, but he then looked back at me intently, his eyes shimmering with danger and caution, before gently bringing his cheek back to my outstretched hand, nuzzling into my palm. Every part of my mind was screaming at me to draw back, to get out and leave, to not get involved, but my heart felt different.

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jvdeiscool · 5 months ago

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hi Jude!!

Sooo, I was wondering… could I request a Dontis x Reader? Also can you make the reader Pronoun's just them and they if you don’t mind! (I’m female but it’s just for the my lady’s and gentlemen Dontis fans :3) I would normally go for Angst, but I’m going for fluff this timeeee!

Have a wonderful dayyy! :D

ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ - ᴅᴏɴᴛɪꜱ ☆

we need fluff in the sakuverse tumblr fandom at the moment it’s all just angst 😭 so that’s why i’m here to deliver >:-)

this is not proof read so pls tell me if there are any mistakes D:

gender neutral reader as always !

tw/cw: none!

“your hairs so pretty.”

dontis looked up from his book, glancing to the side to look at you. he saw you staring at him from the couch, and he chuckled at your gawking.

“thank you, hunter. i appreciate it.” he said, eyes going back to his book. you pouted to yourself and tried to get his attention again, this time walking over to him and stroking gently over the top of his head, being careful of his horns. he looked back up at you and gave you a mischievous look.

“what are you up too? you know if you wanted my attention you could of just said.” he chuckled at you.

“it’s not that…” you spoke, averting your gaze and instead paying attention to his horns, picking out the patterns and detail that lay upon them, still stroking your hands through his hair.

“oh really?” he asked you.

"okay maybe." you confessed. "can i braid your hair?" you asked, looking down at him. he gave you a gentle smile.

"of course you can hunter, i can even show you different types of braids to teach you if you want." he said, putting his book down and turning to you. you gave him a smile back.

"yes please."

──── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

it had been about an hour now, and by this point, dontis had all different types of braids in his hair. still, he didn't seem to mind. he had just gotten started onto teaching you a new type of braid.

"so you go over like this, and fold it over like this and repeat that step, see?" he said, beckoning you to try. he gave you the hair tie and you got started.

you had a concentrated look on your face, as you tried to copy dontis's skilled hand movements. after a few errors, you finally got the hang of it. starting on the braid, you took it slow as you carefully copied what he had shown you.

all that time, he was looking at you with an adoring look on his face. he thought you looked adorable, brows furrowed and your eyes semi squinted as you carefully braided his hair.

you had just finished, and was trying to put the hair tie onto the end of the braid, but your hands couldn't quite get it right. dontis just sat and watched you, trying not to laugh to knock your confidence down.

eventually, you managed to get it right. you leaned back and admired your work with a proud look on your face.

"i did it dontis! see?" you said, gently lifting part of the braid to show him, after all his hair was long enough for him to see at eye level. he smiled at you and admired what you had done.

"well done sweetheart." he said, reaching to cup your face and pepper kisses all over your face quickly. you giggled as his lips tickled against your face and neck. you reached up to cup the back of his head gently as he continued.

"ahaha dontis that tickles!" you said in between laughs. he chuckled into your skin.

"i'm sorry hunter, but you're just so adorable that i can't help it." he said, giving you one last kiss on your lips.

he pulled back and you two stared at each other for a moment, before you spoke up.

"thank you for teaching me, dontis." you said, leaning into the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around you.

"mmm, thank you for being here with me." he said, nuzzling into your hair.

ACK im so sorry this is so short 😭 i had to think quickly with this idea i swear it wasn’t meant to be this short im sorry 💔 i hope this is okay tho !!!

thank you for reading <3

- jude 🌱

#zsakuva #zsakuvafandom #zsakuvaxreader #sakuverse #dontis #zsakuvadontis

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year ago

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I just thought of something funny. What about a reader that can manipulated space-time but only uses it to travel. Like he goes: I’m going to get some groceries. Then travels to Belobog despite being at Herta’s space station. I could just imagine the shock!

I would request the characters: Tingyun, Asta, Herta, and of course Natasha!

@oxyotl Coming right up! Thank you so much for requesting! :D I hope you don't mind but I'm going to assume that Reader and the HSR character already know each other for the sake of convience.

Space-Time Traveler!Reader & Their Basic Need Warping with Tingyun, Asta, Herta, and Natasha!

(Warning: May be OOC!)

Tingyun

She finds it a little adorable, actually! You could literally go to the store on the Xianzhou Luofu, or even ask her since she runs good business (therefore she can find you good deals), but you seem to have your own little method of doing things and she loves it!

She is pretty curious about your abilities, and she highly respects your decision of not using it for anything but your basic needs—whether buying merchandise may be on that list or not. Heck, before you even go on this journey—sometimes Tingyun herself asks you to get something for her.

"My lovely benefactor~ Do you mind if you can get me something to help comb through my tail?~" If you have anything that is against your wishes of what you want to do, be sure to tell her! She wants you to be comfortable around her~

Asta

Finds your powers absolutely fascinating! How are you able to cross the stars and space? And time in general? Could that mean you could catch up with stuff that could light years away? So many questions!

She is very shocked to hear that you only use your powers when you need food, clothes, maybe a snack you wanted to retry, etc. Not that she's against it—she's just completely cut off guard.

But that just makes her more curious about you! Why do you only use your powers for basic necessities? Was there a restriction you constantly face while using your powers? Of course—she'll immediately apologize if any of these questions mean offence to you, but her curiosity sometimes gets the best of her.

"What's it like travelling through the stars as you stop time? Do they still glow, or do all celestial objects in the night just stop their reactivity? Ack!—Sorry, am I crossing any boundaries?"

Asta may ask you to recommend a few things to buy, since you travel to many different worlds that vary in goods. She'll personally buy something you recommend with her own money—online, of course.

If she can't find anything that you recommend, she'll ask you to buy it for her. And don't try to be generous and gift to her—you must use her money. There is no other option.

Please, side with Arlan and make sure Asta doesn't spend her money too much on shops—

Herta

Must I say a lot? You caught the attention of this Genius Society Member, that's for sure. Her puppets are constantly going online just simply because she wants to see you in action!

She's utterly shocked and dumbfounded when she comes to realize you use your powers for such useless things! How was getting a carton of eggs so important you had to use your powers to travel and get them? With your inter-universal powers?

You truly know how to falter and short-circuit this one with your simple tasks. Herta just doesn't get it—but that doesn't mean she's against it. Sometimes, she even asks you to get things for her—though that won't stop her from asking you questions regarding your powers and she is NOT afraid to ask them, lemme tell you.

"Is there a significant difference between the dimensions of time, or does it all just feel the same to you? How do you preserve your....basic necessities through this jump through the universe?" Very scientific and big questions that really has to get your brain thinking before you answer them. Good luck.

Natasha

She's pretty calm about it, honestly. Sure, she's surprised when you do it for the first time, and she wonder why you only get basic things, but nevertheless, she doesn't judge you. You are you, after all.

Since she's an Underworld Doctor, and supplies are hard to come by, she frequently has to ask you for stuff. She does feel a tad bit guilty for constantly sending you on her errands, so be sure to reassure her!

She appreciates you a lot, since (probably) half of your runs are getting supplies for her and the patients she takes care of. Natasha, in return, makes sure that you are in peak health as possible.

"Y/N, did you have breakfast? You're not going to travel with an empty stomach, are you?" Loves taking care of you and loves how you're helpful.

She also finds your travelling habits a little silly and adorable—you, who has such powerful abilities that can make even Luka Strongarm look like a joke in the Fight Club, only using your powers for the sake of basic needs.

Safe to say, she welcomes you whole with open arms!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: DONE! Woo, this took longer than expected—apologies for that! But I hope you guys enjoyed these headcanons :D

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

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gravitycavity · 10 months ago

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Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) - Chapter 3: Helpless

Cover art by @blukiar

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

The forest was as dismal as it was dark.

“H-Hello…?” Pomni let out a feeble whine, wrapping herself in a tight hug. She squirmed at every little sound — creatures skittering through the underbrush, leaves rustling in the howling wind, a distant choir of wolves serenading the sky. “Ragatha? A-Are you there? You’re supposed to be my partner, right?”

A bead of cold sweat raced down the length of her face. Was she alone? Please God, don’t let that be true. Please be there. Please say something. Please—

“There you are!”

Pomni flinched at the sudden voice.

“Wait right there, okay, new stuff?” the voice spoke again — friendly, familiar, and soothing in timbre. “I’ll come to you! Don’t move a muscle!”

Pomni had a lot of strengths — she was observant, organized, and a whiz at math, but she never was very good at following directions. Immediately, she ducked her head forward, charging toward the voice as fast as her feet would carry her.

Something felt off the moment she started moving. Her whole body felt twice as heavy, and the sound of clanging metal rattled her ears with every struggling step.

Her path cut through a shallow puddle; scummy, stagnant water splattered the ground as Pomni shoved her hands close to her face. She squinted. A pair of leather gauntlets existed where those stupid rubberhose gloves had been before.

What in the world was that about? Had Caine put her in an even wackier getup to humiliate her even further?

Still sprinting, Pomni shot a glance toward her torso. An ornate sword was hitched to the belt around her waist — but that’s about all she could make out before she crashed into Ragatha at full running speed, sending the patchwork doll tumbling to the ground.

“Ack! Ragatha! I, uh—” Pomni glanced around the dark woods, not quite sure what to do. In a moment of clarity, of course, it dawned on her that it would probably be polite to help her colleague up. Trying her hardest to not make the situation even more awkward, she looked away as she offered her hand.

Ragatha grabbed hold, and Pomni helped the doll back to her feet. “Oh my gosh, Ragatha, I-I-I’m sorry!” Pomni stammered, taking a deep breath, “I know you told me to stay put, but I—”

“Hey, hey. Don’t sweat it.” Ragatha gave Pomni’s fingers a light squeeze before finally letting go. She dusted off her mud-splattered dress to absolutely no effect. “We’re both safe. That’s all that matters.”

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Fit as a fiddle.” Ragatha smiled. “I can’t say the same for my costume, though…”

“Your…costume?” Pomni shuffled slightly closer, eyes not quite adjusted to the dark yet. Ragatha’s typical patchy dress was nowhere to be seen, replaced by something one might expect a goodhearted queen to wear in a medieval fantasy story. A small tiara crowned her head where her bow had sat before. Her short sleeves were twice as poofy, and her silky skirt, now a more royal shade of purple, flowed all the way down to her ankles.

Something deep inside of Pomni fluttered to life. Ragatha’s new look was…different. The redhead had always been pretty easy on the eyes, but now? Pomni found it hard to look away. Ragatha’s coordinated outfit contrasted perfectly with the elegant asymmetry of her face, and—

“My eyes are up here, Pomni.”

Pomni yelped. “Ah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” she shook her head, “I wasn’t—”

“Oh, stop it. I’m just kidding around!” Ragatha elbowed Pomni. Pomni barely budged. “Don’t get your pantaloons all in a twist.”

Pomni blinked rapidly. Her what?! Her fingers spread across her breastbone as she studied herself — she’d been so fixated on Ragatha that she'd totally forgotten about her own new threads.

The existing puffiness of her goofy jester’s outfit had been turned up to eleven — puffy sleeves, puffy pants, puffy everything. A pair of oversized boots protected her feet. Her collar was larger and frillier along the edges, covering part of the loose tunic draped over her body.

“I’m a…” her chin dipped toward her body, “…Caine turned me into a musketeer?!”

“With the feathered hat and everything! How delightfully dashing!” Ragatha covered her giggle with her hands, absolutely eating up Pomni’s shrinking stance. “Gosh, the only thing you’re missing is the pencil mustache. If only we had some grease paint…”

“Yeah, yeah. Yuck it up, why don’t you?” Pomni scrunched up her face to be as intimidating as possible — which wasn’t very much, considering she was also blushing — and drew her rapier from its scabbard. “I’m the one with the sword!”

“Please. You wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Ragatha booped Pomni’s nose. “And besides, sweetheart, I’m two heads taller than you. I could take you down with one arm tied behind my back, sword or not.”

The shy smile that had been tugging on Pomni’s mouth did more than break through — it bloomed into a tiny little chuckle. “Whatever.” She pushed Ragatha’s hand away and glanced at the path up ahead. “Aren’t we supposed to be doing something?”

🎪 🎪 🎪

Pomni planted another shaky step upon the uneven terrain. She didn’t pay mind to the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs beneath her feet — the constant sound had long ago faded into the background.

Pale moonlight filtered through the canopy, illuminating the processions of twisted trees flanking either side of the winding path. The ancient timber swayed to and fro with the rhythm of the breeze, wailing a neverending requiem of haunting creaks and miserable moans. Intricate nets of spider silk stretched between each pair of knotted branches.

Pomni exhaled. Her knuckles, sore from clutching onto Ragatha’s skirt for so long, pulsed with nagging pain. Her aching legs begged for mercy, and her feet didn’t fare any better. Her annoyingly over-padded costume, though offering her thermal protection from the chilling wind, greatly restricted her range of motion. And it chafed like hell.

The young woman had every right to be absolutely miserable — yet at some point since she and Ragatha had set out together, a warm feeling had snuck its way into her chest, and hadn’t faded since.

The sensation wasn’t unwelcome — just odd, considering her horrifying predicament. Where had it come from? Was it the chance to finally stretch her legs after so many sedentary days? The simulated scent of earthy woodland air? Perhaps Pomni’s near-abstraction had scared her straight, and her subconscious was just clinging to Caine’s adventure to keep itself sane.

Pomni sighed, rubbing Ragatha’s medieval dress with her thumb. Discerning exactly what enchanted her wasn't worth the worry. For once, she wasn’t holding back tears, screams, or the urge to break something — and she would bask in that glow for as long as it would shine on her.

Swinging her other arm, Pomni glanced up to greet her pretty partner’s silhouette, and—

Oh, for #@%&’s sake.

“Hello? Earth to Pomni?” Ragatha was staring right at her. “Anyone home…?”

Pomni’s guts — or whatever it was she had stuffed in there — tied themselves into knots. Zoning-out mid-conversation was a forgivable mistake. Doing so two or three times in one day was embarrassing, but laughable after the fact. But four? Pomni was suddenly overcome with the distinct urge to plunge her head into the nearest hole in the ground.

“Ah! I’m sorry! I was listening! I was just, uh, thinking of what to say—”

“Humor me.” Ragatha palmed her shrimpy companion’s shoulder. “Before you ended up here, did you ever do any acting? School plays, community theater — that sort of thing?”

“N-No…?”

“Yeah. I can tell.”

Pomni’s eyes widened, but narrowed twice as quickly. “You—” she grumbled. She was already boiling to death in this stupid musketeer getup — she didn’t need Ragatha’s help to look any more like a bright red lobster. “Just repeat your question!”

“I said…” Ragatha practically sang, sticking her arm out to halt Pomni’s stride. She pointed her head down the path. “This looks like a nice place to sit down for a bit. What do you think?”

Pomni followed Ragatha’s gaze. Up ahead, the narrow tunnel of trees flaking the path eased away to form a sizable clearing. A colorful community of wildflowers, fed by a trickling stream, punctuated the carpet of grass that covered the flat expanse. Lichen bloomed upon half-decayed logs scattered randomly throughout. In the very center loomed a single, old-looking redwood; a thick beard of moss wound around its impressive trunk.

Pomni thought she was eager to return to the relative ‘safety’ of the tent (whatever that meant) but the serene sight — and the idea of sharing a moment of pause there with her adventure partner — made her reconsider. Caine’s adventure didn’t have a time limit, so it wouldn’t hurt to take it easy for a moment, would it? Besides, Pomni’s feet were absolutely killing her.

“Well…?” Ragatha looked at Pomni, “You’re allowed to say no.”

“No, it’s not that.” Pomni wore a whimsical smile — she sure had been doing that a lot lately. “I was just thinking. That sounds nice.”

🎪 🎪 🎪

“Okay. Your turn.” Ragatha prodded Pomni’s shoulder with a playful poke, “I’m talking way too much.”

“Oh! Um…” Pomni brushed her hand across the fallen log on which she and Ragatha sat. “That’s okay. I don’t mind just listening.”

“You misunderstand. I insist. It’s hard work filling up every little lull in conversation, you know.”

“Sorry.” Pomni kicked her feet with a sigh. She wasn’t exactly an introvert, but no matter how hard she tried, socializing just wasn’t her strong suit. “I guess I just don’t have anything interesting to say.”

“Just talk about whatever’s on your mind. I like hearing your thoughts.”

Pomni eased a bit at that. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded.

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but…” Pomni flicked the ornate sword hitched to her belt, “If this adventure is supposed to be haunted house themed, then why the heck are we dressed for a day at the renaissance faire?”

“Yeah…” Ragatha rubbed the back of her neck. “You can blame Caine’s AI for that one.”

Pomni swallowed. Her warden being nothing but a jumble of computer code didn’t change her circumstances — yet the reminder still made the sour flavor in the back of her throat taste even worse.

“I don’t know how it works,” said Ragatha, “but something about his adventure-generating algorithm likes to create funky anomalies like that. You’ll stop noticing it after a while.”

“I wish I could stop noticing a lot of things about Caine.”

Ragatha’s ladylike giggle made the gloomy grove feel just a little brighter. “Get this. One time, he put us in these elaborate Victorian ballgowns for — wait for it — a sandcastle building contest.”

Pomni’s snort was the exact opposite of graceful. She could only imagine how disastrous that particular adventure had turned out. She pictured Zooble broken into pieces, cursing at the tide as their triangular head washed ashore; Kinger would be of little help, preoccupied with staring at the little crabs skittering across the sand. Gangle, Pomni imagined, would tackle the sandcastle-building with aplomb, and Jax would be equally enthused about playing the part of the stereotypical beach bully.

And then there was Ragatha. Pomni figured that the beauty would mostly keep to herself, sculpting sand with diligence and grace — but her daydream didn’t concern itself much with what Ragatha was building. There was a far more pressing issue to settle first, namely:

“What did yours look like?”

“My sandcastle?”

Sheepishly, Pomni pulled down the brim of her feathered cap. Her voice was suddenly a lot quieter. “…Y-Your outfit…?”

“Oh! Okay! Well…” Ragatha grabbed a handful of her flowing skirt; she almost looked nervous, although her face was difficult to make out in the dark. “I don’t have the sharpest memory, but from what I can remember, it looked about as ugly as the little number I’m wearing right now.”

“What? No! I think it looks nice!” Pomni turned away, idly tapping her fingers. “To be honest, you’d probably look great in just about anything…”

“I appreciate that you’re trying to make me feel better, but let’s be real. This style went out of fashion five centuries ago.”

“I’m not just being nice! Promise! I think you’re beauti—” Pomni hacked up a lung, standing sharply. “It! It’s beautiful! The dress!” Head spinning, she leaned against the nearest tree, face turning redder by the second — it’s anyone’s guess as to how she didn’t pass out right there and then. “It’s a real keeper! A-plus!”

Ragatha tilted away. “Thank you…?”

“D-D-Don’t mention it! Anyway, this was a great break. Ready to head out?!” Pomni sped toward the other end of the clearing.

“Hey! Get back here!” Ragatha’s voice called after. “It’s barely been fifteen minutes! Where do you think you’re…”

Ragatha hesitated.

“…going…?”

Pomni, still feeling a distinct burning behind her ears, kept up her pace, approaching the large tree in the center of the clearing. She mindlessly traced her fingers across its jagged trunk. Her and her big mouth. Why did she say that? Why did she have to make it weird?!

The tree twitched its rotten branches twice. The wispy breeze stilled, and the forest fell silent.

“Pomni!” Ragatha huffed, wet moss squishing beneath her racing feet. “Stop!”

“Rest all you want!” Pomni grumbled. She was still terrified of the forest, but she wasn’t about to give up on her bluff. “I’m going ahead — the others are probably way ahead of us by now! Do you really want to give Jax another thing to—”

“I said STOP!”

Pomni’s hair stood on end as Ragatha grabbed hold of her arm.

Scowling, the jester whipped around — but her face softened once she noticed how hard Ragatha’s arm was shaking.

“Are you…” Pomni’s voice was small. For a moment, she considered wrapping her hand around the ragdoll’s quivering arm, but with her latest faux pas still fresh in her mind, she simply said: “Are you okay?”

High above, the giant tree’s branches twitched again, knocking loose a handful of crisp leaves that had still been hanging on the ends. They fluttered to the ground, settling atop Pomni’s feathered cap.

“Get behind me.” Ragatha’s voice wavered, “Right now.”

Pomni’s stomach hardened — Something was wrong. Very, very, wrong. She opened her mouth to ask what, but her persistent stutter strangled her voice into silence. Nothing would come out. Not a single sound, no matter how hard she forced it.

Giving up, Pomni just did as she was told. Pupils the size of pins, she peered around Ragatha’s back. Her twitching gaze stumbled around her periphery.

Only then did Pomni see it — the tree. Its massive trunk looked to be breathing, gently expanding and harshly contracting on a steady pulse.

Lazily, the monstrous redwood shifted its massive weight toward the intruders, scattering the congress of ravens perched upon its limbs. Pomni, Ragatha, and everything else under the moon shivered at the shrill moan of creaking timber.

Pomni shuddered. “What the…” She took a step back, “What the #%@& is—”

With a deafening crack, hundreds of thorns erupted from beneath half-decayed bark.

“Your sword!” Ragatha shouted, “Give it to me, now!”

Pomni scrambled to pull her rapier from its sheath — but the very moment she overcame her shuddering fingers to do so, a massive branch pounded the ground, knocking the woman cleanly off her feet. Her blade skidded across the ground.

“Pomni!” Ragatha slapped her hands over her mouth.

A thorny branch seized the jester’s leg, wrapping it tightly. Pomni unleashed a string of angry curses, grasping desperately for her weapon — but it was no use. A few rain-soaked leaves still clung to her face as she was yanked into the air, squirming, flailing, and utterly helpless.

“Ragatha!” Pomni screamed. Helpless, helpless, helpless. After so many repetitions, the word didn’t even sound real, devolving into a random assortment of meaningless phonemes. Helpless, helpless, helpless. Yet no other word could so succinctly describe her harrowing predicament — to be trapped in mortal peril for which the only escape was the selfless act of another.

Helpless. The concept felt so horribly familiar.

“No! Leave me alone!” Pomni grunted at her own psyche, squeezing her eyes shut. Her throat felt tighter as unwanted visions of the recent past besieged her mind. “Go away — go away!”

No matter how hard the shameful memory was suppressed, how many layers of denial it was buried beneath, nothing could stop that persistent nightmare from stalking her from the shadows.

She was never, ever safe — not even in the waking world. One second, she was fine, and the next, the wire had been tripped, and nothing Pomni could say could possibly release her from its snare.

Hallway. Kaufmo. A beaten and bruised Ragatha, paralyzed by the beast’s corrupting touch. The ragdoll’s own body had turned against her, grotesquely twisting and warping and flickering and twitching as her very existence fell apart at the seams.

Ragatha’s wincing expression had looked Pomni straight in the eyes. “Do ̸y̴ou̸ ̵think̴ y̵o̸u̵ ̵c̵o̸u̵l̵d̵,̴ p̸erhap̵s̵,̵ ̸hel̴p m̴e̸ ̸o̴u̸t̵, he̵re?” she’d politely pleaded, pain soaking into every disjointed word. “I̵ u̵n̵de̵rst̸and ̸i̸f̴ ̴yo̸u ̴do̵n'̵t̴ w̴a̴n̵t̵ ̵t̸o̸, t̴h̵o̵ugh̴.̸.̵."̸

What had Ragatha thought as she watched Pomni hesitate to help? Had she felt relief when the jester finally extended a hand? What about when Pomni had flinched away, discarding the doll the very second her own safety had been put into question? What had gone through Ragatha’s mind after Pomni had left her for dead, uttering a simple “I’m sorry” to soften the blow of her selfish flight?

The surreal beast had pursued Pomni, and Ragatha had been spared — but Pomni knew that had not been her plan.

“What was I supposed to do?!” A second thorny branch slithered around Pomni’s waist. “I’m not a bad person! I didn’t—” The woman’s terrified cry stopped short as the branch squeezed her stomach flat, emptying the breath from her lungs.

She heard nothing but the sound of her own thumping heart. Where was Ragatha? Was she still by her side? Would she put herself in jeopardy for the coward who had deserted her, or would she even the score, fleeing for her own sake while she still had the chance?

Pomni didn’t dare open her eyes to see for herself, and therein lied her answer. Alone, afraid, and abandoned — that’s how Ragatha had felt.

A familiar, tingling pain nibbled at Pomni’s fingers as her thoughts began to spiral. Ragatha,, the rock keeping her tethered to this meaningless existence, was a victim. Her victim. Ragatha had every reason to thoroughly despise Pomni — which meant her affable nature could only be a pragmatic facade.

The dark clouds returned. The world grew darker.

The creeping abstraction, hidden beneath Pomni’s clothes, wrapped around her wrists and skated up her arms. A dozen eyes, large and small, bloomed across the corruption like a malignant rash. Tremors shook Pomni’s whole body, and she groaned as the horrendous pain overtook her.

Weakly, she resisted — but her despair was stronger.

Twitching eyes and blackened skin raced up her neck, across her chest, around her back. Thoughts flickered out before they could finish as her mind decayed, and at long last, Pomni felt herself falling. Was this it? Was this what it felt like to—

Pomni’s back slammed into the ground. Hard. Her pinwheel eyes flung open, and she would have gasped had she any breath left to do so.

Dead leaves fluttered down from the dense canopy above. The rocky soil below prodded her backside. Somewhere close by, a mature, feminine voice—

Pomni sat up in a flash, clutching her fluttering chest. Her heartbeat — as well as the slithering darkness wrapped halfway around her face — halted at the sight before her.

Stiff, severed branches littered the forest floor, curled in on themselves like a nest of swatted insects. Oozing stumps enveloped the monstrous redwood where its branches used to root.

Before the monster’s corpse stood Ragatha, sword in hand. Her skirt was cut to ribbons, and lumps of cotton tumbled out of open cuts on her arms, legs, and torso.

With one final grunt, Ragatha drove the blade cleanly through the towering beast’s trunk. The redwood recoiled as if to scream, its dying pose frozen in time as the cadaver it left behind hardened to stone.

Only after the petrification had encased the beast entirely did Ragatha’s powerful stance finally wither. Heaving, she collapsed to the ground, quaking arms barely catching her fall.

Pomni’s eyes glistened; the creeping black was gone.

“Ragatha! No, no, no!” Pomni scrambled to Ragatha’s side. She shook the woman’s drooping shoulders. “Get up — get up!”

Ragatha’s battered body still clearly roared with pain — but somehow, she still found the strength to lift up her head. “Don’t be so dramatic.” She laughed weakly, embracing Pomni’s hand with her own. “I’m just catching my breath.”

Pomni shakily swallowed, forgetting to blink. Ragatha was in bad shape. Very bad. Her face was pale. Her chest trembled greatly with each labored breath. Parts of her stuffing, poking out from her wounds, breathed in a black, inky substance that flowed steadily from her insides.

She squeezed Ragatha’s hand, trying as hard as she could to keep herself together — but the moment she opened her mouth to speak, it was all over.

“Why—” Pomni’s voice cracked. A tear traced the curves of her face. A second followed, and then a third. “Why did you—”

Ragatha’s brows came together. She grasped the little jester’s face and thumbed away her tears. “Why did I what, sweetheart?”

Pomni shook her weary head. Too exhausted to even begin making sense of it all, she surrendered, diving into Ragatha’s strong embrace with a whimper and a sob.

---

Whew! This one sure took me a while. Thank you all for your patience. I hope you enjoy it!

My Ko-fi - Tips are very much appreciated! :)

[First Chapter] [Next Chapter]

#pomni x ragatha #pomnitha #pomni #tdac pomni #pomniposting #tadc ragatha #the amazing digital circus ragatha #ragapom #digital yuri #jesterdoll #buttonblossom #ragatha x pomni #tadc fanfiction #lesbian #sapphic #tadc ship #tadc sunshine

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gigglz · 2 years ago

Text

Sneaky

Ler!Hobie

Lee!Miles

(Strictly PLATONIC!! This is a tickle fic.)

Quick, short fic. I LOVE THEM AAAAH

Miles was told he had to train his stealth a bit, kindly saying he wasn't good at it… at all.

His goal according to Peter B. Parker was to successfully scare at least 5 people. Gwen, Pavitr, Peter B. Parker himself, which would be harder considering he was the one giving him the task, Hobie and Jessica. Miles had already scared 3. Gwen, Pavitr, and Jessica. Even for only 3 people it took around 7 tries, since they were all spiderpeople.

He thought for a second. “Hmm. Maybe i should go for Peter next, but then again that would take the longest. I should probably go for the one that doesn’t know what im doing. Hobie. Yeah! Easy enough.”

He spent a good half an hour trying to find him. Turns out he was in some sort of lab… stealing? Of course.

He crawled on the ceiling, invisible of course. Being extra careful to not make a sound.

Hobie was looking around the lab for random parts he could easily fit in his pockets, humming some tune.

Miles was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“How long ya gonna wait for?” Hobie suddenly spoke, startling Miles.

Miles wasn’t sure he was talking to him, so he stayed quiet.

“Aye, Miles. Im talking to ya.” Hobie chuckled and looked up, straight at Miles.

“Aw, man…” Miles let out a sigh and jumped down. “How did you know i was there?”

Hobie looked at him. “I knew the moment you arrived, you’re not very good at being sneaky ya know.”

Miles let out a groan. “Yeah…“

“Aye cheer up, bruv. No need to be down in the dumps about it.” Hobie smiled.

Miles looked at him confused “what?”

“Anyways what’re ya trying to do?” Hobie asked while putting something in his pocket again.

“Oh its just- wait, no. Im not gonna tell you.” Miles almost slipped up, it would be so much harder to do if Hobie knew.

“Awe c’mon tell me.” Hobie tapped his shoulder with his fist playfully. “Is it top secret?” He joked.

“Yes, yes it is!” Miles exclaimed.

“Well now i want to know even more, c’mon Miles, were mates! You can tell me.” Hobie leaned against a table, now very eager to know.

“No, no. Not telling you, sorry!” Miles turned to walk away, cause he knew he was eventually gonna tell him if he stayed.

“So ya wanna play like that, do ya? Alright.” Hobie shrugged getting up from the table, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“What does that mean?” Miles stopped, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Oh nothin’… unless you wanna tell me?” Hobie grinned.

“Wha- no. No way, forget it!” Miles waved his hands at him.

“Alright, alright. Go then. Didn’t wanna know anyway.” Hobie turned away, walking back to the table.

Miles sighed, “thank god.” He started walking to the door, he was gonna try again a bit later.

But before he could leave Hobie spoke up, somehow right behind him. “This is how ya sneak up on people.”

Suddenly Miles felt two hands on his sides. “waitwaitWAIT HOBIE- ACK!” Hobie started wiggling his fingers into the younger boys sides.

“Ya wanna tell me now?” Hobie laughed mischievously.

“nohoho AHAH HOBIEHEHE!” Miles yelped as Hobie switched to tickling his ribs. His legs buckled and he fell to the floor, Hobie catching him.

“Woah, mate. Ticklish much?” Hobie put him on the floor, and switched to his sides again to prevent Miles from getting used to the feeling. “Y’know I can keep this up for as long as i need.” Hobie teased.

“Ehehehe Hobihie nahahAHAH” Miles squirmed, weakly trying to fight him back. “STAHAHAP NAHAHAAA”

“So ya wanna tell me yet? Or do i need to keep going?” Hobie chuckled with miles.

“ihim nohohot telling yohoHOU NOHOO” Miles threw his head back and kicked his feet.

“Well if you insist, I’m having fun so i dont plan on stopping any time soon. Hey, yer hips ticklish?” Hobie didnt wait for an asnwer and went for his hips.

Miles SCREAMED. “NAHAA OHO MAHAHAI GAHAHAD HOBIHIE NOHOOH AGHAHA” Miles bucked and shook his head frantically. Trying to pry Hobies hands off of his hips.

“I guess they are, dont try to fight me, only way ill stop is if you tell me!” He pressed his hands into Miles’ hips a little stronger, laughing with him.

“OHOKAY OKAHAHAY JUST STOHOHAHAHA-“ Miles could barely speak, it tickled so bad.

As promised Hobie stopped as soon as Miles told him to. “Alright, spill it. Unless you want to go for round 2? I wouldn’t mind.” He smirked.

“im good, ihim gohohood.” Miles was still giggling.

“So?” Hobie looked at him intrigued.

“Ihits just some stupid task Peter gave me, apparently im not stealthy enough. So i have to scare 5 people, you were one of them.” Miles held his sides, trying to get rid of the ghost tickles.

“Ohoh! So thats what it is! I have to agree with Parker here.” He chuckled.

Miles groaned, he knew Hobie was right.

“Better luck next time, bruv! Just watch your back. Maybe ill be the one sneaking up on you, aye?” He teased Miles as he helped him up to his feet.

Miles chuckled, a little embarrassed.

“Alright, alright. I will.” Miles said as he wiped his shoulder to get a little dust off of it.

“I suggest catching them in an environment where its not so silent, like here.” Hobie pointed around the lab.

“Ah, yeah. You're right.” Miles chuckled.

“Alright go, get Peter first, then come back to me. Always stay alert.” Hobie wiggled his fingers at Miles, chuckling.

Miles cringed a little, shook his head and turned to leave, yeah, no he definitely was gonna go for Peter next.

#tickles #tickle #sfw tickles #tickle community #tword #across the spiderverse tickle #atsv tickle #atsv tickle fic #ler!hobie #lee!miles #ler!hobiebrown #Lee!milesmorales

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clangenrising · 1 year ago

Text

Month 10 - Leafbare

A few days of sunny weather had thawed the heavy snow and caused the huge piles to dwindle down to slushy dregs. For the first time since the kits had started walking, Smokyrose felt comfortable letting her daughters out to play. Fogkit had been bouncing around the den for days, begging to go explore and meet people, but Smokyrose had insisted that they would be far too cold to have fun if they went. In truth, she didn’t want to risk either of them getting sick, especially after what had happened to Nightfrost.

But today the sun was shining warmly on the camp and she had no excuses and she was just as eager to hand them off to someone else as they were to have some fun.

“Alright, my darlings,” she said, ushering them forward with a gentle sweep of her tail, “Remember the rules: Don’t go over the hills and stay where I can see you, alright?”

“Okay!” Fogkit squeaked, bowling forward into the clearing. She stopped, squinting against the light with her tail straight up in kittish excitement. Slatekit started forward, then paused for a moment before hurrying after her sister. Smokyrose watched them go with a mixture of pride and weariness, and not just for the usual reasons.

She couldn’t help but look at the two of them side by side and imagine her walking with their father. She sighed and wondered if the ache for him would ever cease. The ache for Currentseeker had waned, she reasoned, so maybe time would ease this wound too, but it didn’t feel like that would happen any time soon.

“Ooh! Look at this!” Ospreymask called as she slipped out of the healers’ den, Branchbark limping along behind her. “Hello there, girlies!”

“Ospweymask!” cheered Fogkit. Slatekit gasped excitedly.

“Look at you!” the warrior purred, bouncing over and batting the tiny kits around in her paws. They shrieked and squealed with laughter and Smokyrose smiled. Confident they were in good paws, she moved to the top of the warriors’ den to settle in the sun and warm her bones. Aldertail was already sitting atop the flat stone and looked up as she approached.

“Ah! H-hi there, Smokyrose,” she said, shifting her weight anxiously.

“Hello, dear,” smiled Smokyrose. “Don’t let me disturb you at all, I’m just coming to stretch my legs.”

“O-okay,” Aldertail nodded and gave one of her forelegs a few firm licks.

Smokyrose spread herself out on the stone with a relaxed sigh, one ear tilted to listen absently to her daughters’ laughter. “How have you been settling in, dear?” she asked and Aldertail sat up suddenly.

“Oh,” she said, clearly having let her thoughts drift. “Um, good- uh, well, I mean. Everyone has been so kind and- and generous to me.” She glanced over at Ospreymask and the kittens

“I’m glad to hear it,” purred Smokyrose. “I know the Clan is better off with you in it.” Aldertail blushed, ears sliding back, and she buried her nose in her curled forelegs. Her only reply was a small squeak that Smokyrose assumed must have been a thank you. She chuckled warmly and let out a satisfied groan as she pushed her stretch. Her back popped and she sighed in relief, melting back down into the warm stone. Kitting had taken a toll on her body that she hadn’t expected and she wasn’t sure if she would ever feel the same again but on days like today she could almost believe it.

The sun was a gentle companion. The wind was soft and quiet, largely shielded against by the camp’s sloping hill. She looked over to where Ospreymask was wrestling with the girls and smiled, thankful as ever for the warrior’s never ending exuberance.

“Ack!” Ospreymask cried as Fogkit accidentally stepped on her face very close to her eye. “I’m out numbered! Branchbark, you gotta save me!”

“Sorry,” Branchbark grinned impishly. “I’m injured, remember?” He waved his left paw in reminder. The wound was no longer bandaged, mostly just a nasty, dark scab and a greenish bruise underneath his short brown fur.

“Coward!” Ospreymask wailed, flopping underneath the kittens. Slatekit and Fogkit giggled to each other and then Fogkit went in for the kill, chomping down on the side of Ospreymask’s neck. The warrior hissed in pain and pulled away. “Hey, hey, gentle! Remember, we’re just playing.”

“Oh,” Fogkit jumped back, wide eyed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Ospreymask smiled, leaning in to nose the kit’s forehead. “Just be careful next time.”

“Are you gonna be okay?” Slatekit’s tiny voice asked, barely audible from where Smokyrose was sitting.

“Yeah, I’ll be right as rain,” Ospreymask purred, hooking her into a hug with one paw. “Unlike Branchbark, I can take a bite like a champ.”

“Hey!” he frowned, “That’s not fair.”

Ospreymask cackled and flicked her tail at him. “You’re so easy!” Fogkit joined in with her laughter, snuggling up next to Slatekit with a wiggle of her tiny haunches. Smokyrose sighed fondly. What precious things, her girls. She tried to ignore the aching that came with the thought.

“She looks just like him,” Aldertail murmured and Smokyrose inhaled sharply, looking over at her. Aldertail shrank with fright as she realized what she had said. “Oh! I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“No, no,” Smokyrose hurried to reassure her. “It’s alright. She does.” She’d forgotten that Aldertail had known Ghost. Curiosity suddenly gripped her and she found herself speaking, “Do they often?”

“Hm?” Aldertail tilted her head in confusion.

“His kits,” she said softly. “I’ve heard he has plenty. Do they often look like him?”

“Oh,” Aldertail said, her own voice softening to a whisper. “Sometimes. The girls are usually torties, the boys are fifty-fifty.”

“I see,” she nodded. The thought that there were kits just like hers wandering around the two-leg place was still hard to conceptualize. A desire to speak with their mothers tugged on her heartstrings. She wondered if it would be possible to find them all, to let them know they weren’t alone, to find out what they knew about him.

“How long did you know him?” Aldertail asked carefully.

“Since the spring,” Smokyrose smiled, “So… six or seven moons.”

Aldertail nodded. “There were rumors he had a new dame but nobody knew who. People said you were a wild cat with blood on your teeth and strange magic that stole his heart.”

Smokyrose couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, my! Well, I’m flattered but no, no. I’ve never even had any battle training.”

“Really?” Aldertail asked. “I thought all of you did, at least a little. Branchbark has been trying to teach me a few things but I’m not very good.”

“Most Clan cats do,” she nodded, “but some cats choose other paths. Like Sagetooth and Oddstripe, they’re healers so they spend their time practicing medicine instead of combat or hunting techniques.”

“But you’re not a healer, are you?”

“No, I’m a mediator,” she said proudly. “Since I was little, I’ve studied how to settle disputes and work out problems. When two cats or two Clans have disagreements, cats like me help find a solution that makes everyone happy.”

“That sounds hard,” Aldertail winced.

“It is,” Smokyrose shrugged, “but I love it. If you wanted, I could teach you.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Aldertail said, and Smokyrose already knew she wasn’t interested, “but I’m more scared of talking to cats than I am of having to fight one. Thank you though, I don’t mean to be rude!”

“Not rude at all,” Smokyrose shook her head. “Mediator work isn’t for everyone.”

“Mama!” Fogkit’s voice called out and she turned her head again, “Mama look how tall I can stand!” The kitten was rearing up on her hind legs, trying to stretch her arms above her head, which was slightly impeded by Slatekit trying to cling to her like a shield. She kept falling down and then rearing back up with an energy that Smokyrose wished she could still muster.

“Look at you!” she called. “You’re so tall, Fogkit!” The kit beamed and Smokyrose felt another surge of fondness mixed with aching. She wondered if their father would find the display as cute as she did or if he would ignore them entirely. She dreaded to think what his indifference would do to her kittens, if he indeed felt it.

She glanced at Aldertail, who was staring at Fogkit with a grimace made from fear and pity, and had to wonder what had been done to her to make her so afraid of Ghost. What had he done to the cats under his charge? What had he hidden from her? She decided she didn’t need to know. She and her kits were safe in RisingClan and she would raise them to know every single minute that they were loved more than they could ever know. She hoped that would be enough.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Smokyrose #Ospreymask #Branchbark #Aldertail #Leafbare #clangenrising #Fogpaw #Slatepaw

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