#ah yes it’s good to make meat very tender and soft

[fic-dumpster]

I just learned that making a papaya “bleed” is not a common practice. 🧍🏻‍♀️ wdym yall eat the enzyme just like that? 👁️👄👁️ it’s a bit strong for some? Wdym yall don’t prep your papayas a day or hours before eating? *screams in papain taste weird*

Make superficial cuts on the papaya’s skin (without peeling or cutting) and let it rest for a day or less and i promise it tastes so much better and won’t hurt your tongue/tummy.

[valentineforlemonandcherry]

From Young Lovers to Proper Daddies - Part 1. Sirius Black

Love and sex can be quite messy when you’re young, uncertain, and immature. There’s a certain confidence that comes with age, and this shows not only in day-to-day life, but also in bed... 

[Warning: Use of the word “Daddy.”]  

*Please do not repost or copy my work without my permission. Thank You!  

As Sirius Black becomes older, he finds more avenues in which to express the affection he has always felt for you. When he was younger, he thought ‘passion’ just meant mindless, all-out fucking and he mistakenly believed that ‘tenderness’ was for weaklings who didn’t know how to please their partners. But as he grew older and wiser, and as he matured through his long-time relationship with you, he came to lose these restrictive notions about love and sex and learned to really take you - mind, body, soul, and heart - both through sex and aftercare.

Now, after your sinful nights in bed, he spoils you silly with teasing and heaps love on you. The first step is is to tuck you against his chest and refuse to let you leave until you’ve managed to see say three coherent sentences. Yes, the standard is as low as ‘three coherent sentences,’ because Sirius, all grown up, takes you harder than ever before. He’s desperate for you and nothing pleases him more than when he gets you to that state of total ecstasy where you’re babbling. 

At that point, he spanks you and growls, “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

Between heavy pants and labored moans, you bleat out pitifully, “Y-Yours, Si.”

“That’s right,” Sirius growls, while pushing his cock inside of your tight hole again. “You’re all mine.”

“Ah!”

Sirius clutches your hands in his lovingly – only to pin your hands down against the headboard before proceeding to fuck all thoughts out of your woozy little head.

Your moans of “ah, ah, ah!” get achingly soft, and Sirius groans intensely against the back of your neck. He loves this, loves taking you as his, and he loves so much how tight – very tight - and wet – very wet - you are for him.

And when Sirius cums in you, at long last, the gasp he manages to rip from your throat with his final, deep thrusts make him feel so proud.

“U-Uh-Uhn…!” you moan out. Your moans crest in the middle and then you whimper, defeated, as the overwhelming tension in your body finally breaks. “Hahhh…” you exhale exhaustedly, blinking your misty eyes and panting against the headboard.  

My little puppy’s so fucked-out, she can’t even moan properly, Sirius thinks, as he pulls you lovingly into his arms. He has you rest atop him, with your head on his chest, and he strokes your hair while holding you close to him, waiting for you to come back to earth.

Finally, you murmur, in your regular voice, “Sirius?”

“I’m here,” he reassures you. “Right here. Now, show me you’re here with me, too.”

“Um…” You wrack your brains. Then, you reel off, with the exceptional professionalism of a news anchor, “Sirius Black is an idiot. Sirius Black is a good-for-nothing piece of man meat – frankly, a cock on a stick, rather than the other way around. Sirius Black is more of a puppy than I am, and he tries to hide that by fucking me really, really hard at every given moment of every given day.”

Sirius’s eyes glint, and he grabs your chin roughly. Squeezing your face, he says warningly, “Very coherent today, aren’t you?”

You try to remain serious, but you burst out laughing.

Sirius shakes his head and gives you a little spank on the rump.

But when you bury your face against his neck, still laughing lightly, and you place kisses all along his jaw and neck, Sirius caves. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and he murmurs softly in your ear, “You were so good for me today, you know that? You take me so well.”

“All for you, Si,” you whisper back. “I’ll always be a good girl for you.”

“And you?” Sirius asks you. “Do I make my little puppy feel good, too?”

To answer his question properly, you perch up on his chest a little. Sirius helps you brush your hair back from your face so you can look properly at him. 

You trace his handsome jaw with your fingers, as you reply, “Always. There’s nothing that feels better than being yours, Sirius. You know, I don’t say the word, but when we’re in bed together, I do – well, I think I might, um, consider you my daddy, if -if you know what I mean.”

Sirius bits his lower lip. Barely hiding how pleased he is with your sweet confession, he teases you back in a low, knowing whisper, “I know, puppy. I can tell by the way you yelp for me that you think I’m your daddy. And when I’m filling you your little hole with my cum, I can tell by the fucked-out look on your face that you’re thrilled to be bred by your daddy. You don’t have to say it out loud for me to know, sweetheart. I’ll always fuck you like I’m your daddy – and I’ll take care of you like one, too.”

You stare at Sirius in awe. Funnily enough, your brain makes an executive decision on its own and memorizes this speech Sirius gave you, tucking it away in your little head. 

Following this incident, sometimes (and quite randomly, too) you remember this speech, and immediately, your pussy gets very, very wet. You have to stop whatever you’re doing, run to Sirius, drop to your knees before him, and beg him to take you right there, right now. And of course, Sirius Black, proper daddy that he is now, never, ever fails you. 

That’s how, at any given time of the day, there’s a high chance of finding Sirius hugging you tightly in his arms and buried deep inside of you, making his little puppy pant heavily, as he fulfills your need for your daddy to remind him that you’re “his,” because being “his” is an invisible place in this world that is nonetheless very real, where you feel safe, loved, and at home - and only  Sirius Black can ever take you there. 

Tagged User(s): @saltstacks

[randynova]

Poor Petal, she must have had a panic attack when she found out she was pregnant for the first time.

She was downright terrified.

She broke down crying, screaming into her pillow, refusing to let Doma hold or console her. Surprisingly, he left her alone, letting her deal with her emotions on her own.

The only words he left her was, "Oh, [Name], I'm so happy. Soon, we're going to be parents, my sweet pretty petal!"

[Name] just couldn't understand how this happened. She was careful, so diligent in taking the tea every night. She began racking her mind, trying to make sense of it all, and search for a possibility why this small mistake occurred.

Until she recalled two months prior, where Doma's insatiable hunger for his wife consumed him. Like an animal in heat, he forced himself on her, ignoring her pleas to stop, releasing his fertile seed deep into her womb. Over and over again, he made sure every night she was filled with his cum, having the sole mission to make her bear his children.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Doma had to travel southward for demon duties and he felt this was the perfect opportunity for you both to get closer. A whole week together, all alone while he was free from his duties, a chance to finally have some quality bonding time without his cult. It was a dream come true.

However, this place was in the middle of nowhere, hardly any villages, let alone stores, around. All the sources you used to protect yourself from Doma were gone, the foods and teas you consumed to prevent a pregnancy out of reach.

The only people around were fellow upper moons, who stayed far away from your husband, especially you.

Thus, you were forced to endure his doting behavior, forced to play his dangerous games, and forced to let him breed you.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

"Pretty petal. So pretty, so beautiful. You're taking me so well, hah," Doma laughs, snapping his hips harshly, thick balls slapping against your skin. You bounced with every thrust, mewling and whimpering, begging him to slow down. It only stirred him on to go faster. "No, no, no, this is the best way to ensure maximum success with fertilizing you. I have to make sure my seed is as deep as possible inside you, my petal!"

The aching between your legs grew, arching your back as an orgasm washes over you once again. Your juices release over his thick cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your velvet walls constrict around him. "Ah! Ah, D-Doma!"

"Mm, hngh! P-petal! Petal! Petal! " Doma whines out, biting his bottom lip, grinning like a madman as the sweet relief of climax fast approaches him. His thrusts turn sloppy and his hips stutter. Quickly, he pulls out and leaves you feeling empty for a few seconds. He grabs your legs, hooking his arms around your knees, and pushes your thighs to your chest, claws digging into your plush skin as he starts to hammer into you. "So-so good! Such a good girl! You'll be such a good mother, sweet petal! Just you wait! I'll make you a mommy, ok? Just- fuck!"

He releases long, thick ropes of cum, painting your womb white with his fertile seed once more. He thrusts weakly, head falling back as he gasps. "Mm, ah-ah, [N-Name]...!" You squeeze your eyes shut, looking to the side, swallowing bitterly as he fills you to the brim, cum leaking out as he slides in and out. It drips onto the bed, staining the pristine, red cotton sheets.

"Oh, petal, please don't look away. I want to see you," Doma croons, pulling out with a shaky breath and looking down at the mess between your legs with a grin. White painted the sheets below like a puddle. He pulls out with a groan. Seeing the way your pussy gushes out his cum, flexing around nothing, it makes him want to take you all over again. He slides two fingers up across your folds, gathering his seed, and pushing it back into your sopping hole with his fingertips. He hums whilsts you whine, rocking your hips at the weird sensation. "Such a pretty sight, you took me so well, petal. I'm so proud of you!"

He's met with silence. Though, it doesn't bother him as he already fulfilled his task for the night. After five long rounds, he believes its enough for the day and he'll repeat the process tomorrow. For now, both of you need rest, we'll, mainly you if you're going to stay awake during the whole ordeal.

You were in a daze as Doma cleaned both you and himself up, changing the sheets into soft clean ones, and covering your body with the blankets, tucking it in.

"Good night, my pretty wife," Doma whispers, taking his spot beside you, his arms slithering around your frame and pulling you close. His chest pressed against your nude back, his legs tangling in yours, and he buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath of your sweet aroma. "I love you..."

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Immediately after coming back from your journey, Doma became busy, his schedule packed to the brim with orders from his master. It irritated him, saddened him even, that he would be apart from you for a while.

As much as he loved ravishing your body every night, he had to focus on completing every task with precise accuracy. He doesn't want to disappoint his master after all.

But before he left you alone the first night back, he replaced your assigned follower with a different one. One that reported back to him and carried out his orders, their loyalty to the demon overriding their morals to protect you.

He wasn't stupid. It didn't take long for him to figure out the tea you drank prevented you from becoming pregnant, a huge change to the tea he got to make you fertile. The news did upset him, but he hid the discovery and played along with your little antics. It made him try to come up with a solution, where he disguised the tea you drank to better fit his wishes.

Like an unsuspecting mouse, you walked right into the cat's claws.

Anyone who tried helping you was either eaten by Doma or killed by him in another manner. If the actions of a stupid, disloyal follower was keeping him away from his dream of having a family, the demon won't hesitate to get rid of them. They should know better.

Doma's dreams are his followers' orders.

If he says he dreamt of eating a hundred virgins, his followers should offer him the bountiful feast of meat from a hundred virgins.

If he says he dreamt of growing his cult, his followers should go out and recruit people to join them.

Now, if he says he dreams of a child with his wife, his followers should offer their help and make sure he gets his child.

By god, did they live up to his expectations for once. Everyone - from the ones who prepared your meals to the new members who brought you gifts - made sure every small action built up to the final wish of their leader's plan.

Every food and drink you consumed had been carefully chosen to help make you plump and help the baby grow. Every bath had been filled with excotic herbs to soothe your changing body. Every offering had slowly been gearing towards a human smaller than you. Yet, you never really paid attention to the small differences.

Doma noticed how tired you seem lately, how you complained to the follower assigned to you about the tenderness of your breast and the pain of your abdominal and pelvis area, and even how different you looked, almost glowing.

At first, he didn't put the pieces together. Surely all women were like this, right? Yet, that wasn't the case.

He found himself always wondering why your emotions were easily more unhinged, why you ate the foods he hand-fed you more easily, or why you were napping in the afternoon. Yes, he liked these changes and welcomed them eagerly, believing you were finally warming up to him. But why?

After nearly six weeks, you were worried why your period didn't come. You speculated the stress could have been a prominent factor in causing your late cycle, sometimes occurring in your youth. You seem bloated lately as well, you note, or it could've been weight gain due to the food you have been eating lately. Thus you brushed it off.

It'll come soon, you just know it. Afterall, you're still a human and change is a part of life.

In another area of the temple, a different situation was unfolding. When the trusted follower reported to Doma about your very late menstrual cycle, he clapped with joy like a child being entertained. Of course! How slow can he be?! You finally are carrying his child! The hormonal changes affected how you behaved with him and the sudden weight gain explained it all.

Oh, he just couldn't wait for the day to come!

However...

He had to make sure you did nothing irresponsible to push back his dream.

Doma became more strict and possessive with you. He didn't let you go anywhere alone. Even if you were in the privacy of your room, someone had to be there.

The days where you spent waiting for him in your bedroom were now spent at his side. He forced you to sit on his lap like before, feeding you more than you're used to. Any question concerning his increase of doting behavior was met with a laugh and a kiss to your cheek. "I just love you so much, I want you to be healthy!"

Doma isn't stupid. He knew the moment he mentioned, or even insinuated, you were pregnant, you would break down and possibly affect the baby negatively. He didn't know if you were capable of taking drastic measures of getting rid of it this far along, but he didn't want to find out.

With careful, watchful eyes, Doma made sure everyday you were fed well, that you were always protected, and made sure nothing upset you. He went the extra mile to find medicine and herbs incase you ever fell ill. The demon made sure your attention was always occupied to keep from noticing your changing body.

To say it worked was an understatement.

By the fifth month, you realized despite your growing stomach, you weren't gaining weight anywhere else. Most of your clothes fit like a glove except around your abdomen.

Your heart began to race as you wracked your mind of the events for the past few months.

When was the last time you had gotten your period?

You don't recall changing your sheets every month because you stained it, nor do you recall dealing with the hassle of keeping yourself clean. Come to think of it, you felt at ease these past few months, the usual cramps and cravings you felt no longer bothering you like before.

Ridding yourself of your clothes, slipping your kimono off until you're left in your undergarments of hadajyuban and susuyoke. You undid your sash and revealed your stomach. You're met with the sight of your bulging tummy and tender breasts. Pressing a finger pad to the skin of your stomach, it seemed firm instead of soft and plush. With a shaky breath, you pressed your palms against your stomach and...

Kick. Kick.

You removed your hands immediately, face falling. No...

No. No! No! No!

How didn't you notice it before!?

Your chest fell and rose quickly with every breath you took, hyperventilating as the situation dawned on you. You were pregnant. Actually pregnant with that damn demon's child. A bellowing scream ripped from your throat, the high-pitch intensity resonating like shattering glass throughout the temple.

Doma raced to your bedroom, fearing the worse as he heard his wife scream. He ran into the bedroom, only to be met with your form bawling on the floor, hunched over as sobs wracked your body. Followers tried to console you, yet you ignored them.

Doma approached you carefully and crouched down, but the moment he put a hand on your back, you whipped your head and cracked your hand across his face like a whip. He fell back, catching himself, shock etched into his features. You... You hit him? He paid no mind to the followers who raced to his side, asking him if he was okay. He was more surprised you dared slap him.

The stinging of his cheek didn't hurt , but it caught him off guard. He looked up and leered at you with wide eyes. Yet he clashed with the burning, sorrowful gaze you held.

"Fuck you! Goddamnit, leave me alone, you monster! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!!" You screech, standing up and burying your face in your hands. Tears slipped through your fingers and dripped to the floor.

Doma smiled, finally understanding why you were reacting the way you were. He began chuckling, then giggling, and then he broke into a fit of laughter. He stood up and held a hand to his face, looking at you with a crazed, delighted expression on his face. Gleefully, he spoke, "Oh, petal! You finally caught on!"

You shake your head and begin crying louder, turning your back to the demon. "No, no, no...," you whimper.

"We're going to be parents...," Doma croons, taking small, quiet steps towards you. Like before, he tries pulling you close but you brush him off.

"Please... Please, just leave me alone...!"

"Oh, [Name], you'll see. Once our baby is here, you'll love being a mommy. Just like I'll love being a papa...!"

"No... I didn't want this...."

"But I did! I told you for so long...," Doma whispers, uncomfortably close to you. He lets out a breathy laugh. "And now that you're finally with child, I'm going to make sure I see my baby no matter what."

You could only stand in horror, listening to his voice. The panic crawled up your throat, fear taking hold of you as you froze up. With bated breath, you wait for him to leave. But his next words made your heart drop and blood run cold.

"I'm willing to do anything for our child, [Name]. Even if it means I may have to hurt you to guarantee their safe arrival."

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Doma is not submissive and breedable. He is dominant and fertile.

He finally has his wish of having a family with the woman he loves.

And he'll do anything to make it come true.

Even if it means he has to become the monster and hurt you to get it.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛��𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜,

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

[angelamajiki]

PARINGS: Brother! Tamaki Amajiki x Female! Sister! Reader

CW: yandere, incest, stealthing, con to noncon, quirk play, riding, manipulation, possessiveness, slight angst, implied kidnapping

AN: thank you to @suzuki-violin-school for beta reading!! @sightoru @bonesoftheimpala come get y’all juice

You always had a strange relationship with your big brother, seeming to be just a touch close for your parent’s liking. But the pair of you never paid too much mind to it. Something about it just felt natural and right. You were thick as thieves, always confiding and comforting each other when no-one else seemed well enough to do the job.

When you ran to your brother’s house the second your first boyfriend broke up with you for a completely arbitrary reason, leaving you to cry on your nii-san’s shoulder to deal with your heartache.

“I told you he was no good for you, bunny. I knew from the start that something was wrong with him. There’s no one that’s good enough for my baby sister.”

Then it happened again. And again. And again, until it seemed like every partner you’ve ever had lost interest after the first few months of your relationship. It was devastating to feel unloved and unwanted, but at least you had your big brother to make everything better. Tamaki always reminded you how much he loved you, how smart and intelligent you were, how anyone would be lucky to have you, and the people who have dumped you were complete fools to not see what a gem you were.

And anyone would be lucky to have your big brother; you reminded him as well. The number seven pro hero who had finally blossomed into a confident, top-tier hero with a heart of gold. He was so strong, not to mention a heartthrob. Maybe it felt wrong to be jealous of the attention he gets from the media for his work along with his looks. Still, maybe it was because you knew better than anyone else that one day, the devotion he showed towards you would be the devotion he showed towards his own partner.

Not that you ever planned to tell him you didn’t want his undivided attention to be cast elsewhere, but just like everything else about your relationship, it flowed out naturally when you were crying about your recent first date that had ghosted you after dinner.

“Tama-nii, I’m never going to find someone! Why does no one want me?”

You sobbed into his chest, clinging to him like you did when you were a child, searching for the lost innocence of your youth in his arms. His strong hands embraced you without question, without judgment, as he kissed the top of your head tenderly while shushing you gently.

“Oh, bunny. That’s not true at all-”

What could he know about your struggle? The media treats him like the very man who hung the stars in the sky, and how could you blame them? He was the moon, the very embodiment of tenderness that waxes and wanes with a gentle, shimmering brilliance that you can’t help but hide in the shadows of.

“Yes, it is! What could you possibly know of not being wanted when you’re just going to end up leaving me like everyone else does?” His silence spoke louder than your own sobbing. “One day, you’ll find someone and leave me to be alone again because no one wants me!”

His hand, that touch you’ve become so familiar with, gently strokes your lower back.

“Who said I don't want you? You're making assumptions, little bunny.”

His words tickled your ear, got your heart racing as he quelled your cries of anguish. “Because I certainly do.”

Nimble fingers tilted your chin up to meet his soft gaze, lust clouding his eye like the calm before the storm.

“B-But not like that-”

“Exactly like that.”

His words lit a fire in your core, but forced ice to run through your veins. Your brother could never have you in the way you wanted him to, the way you needed him to.

“It's not that simple.” You choked out, straining to contain yourself from your fleeting desires. This fleeting feeling of weakness can't let you risk your relationship with your brother, or worse, let him be your everything for just a moment and watch him walk away when he's done. “We can't.”

“And why is that? Isn't it obvious that I'm not going anywhere unless I'm with you?”

His face inched closer to yours, a blush splattering his pale skin up to his ears.

“It’s wrong-”

Your eyes flicked to his lips for a brief moment as you found yourself frozen.

“Not if I love you.”

Plush lips sealed over yours, enveloping you in the tenderness you'd had always envied him for. The love, the obsession he had for you had come crashing down in waves over you as you kissed him back, eager to feed off his affection and attention.

Teeth and tongue clashed together in a messy display of the taboo; hips pushed flush against each other as you whined into his mouth, sobbing in the relief of finally feeling yearned for.

The question of whether or not it was right wasn't plaguing you anymore, not like it did you when you scorned yourself for the infectious desires that coiled in your core late at night. His love cleansed you, cured you of your ailment as his tongue and lips made their way to your neck.

Sweet nothings tickled your ear as he nibbled and kissed along your tender flesh, leaving bright pink spots in his loving wake. The tears from your eyes dripped onto his hair, but neither of you seemed to care.

“Don't cry, my love.”

His words were like a symphony, enthralling you with the melody that he carried in his voice and the song he sung to soothe your overwhelmed state. “Let your big brother take care of you, okay?”

Clothes were discarded in a flurry, tossed somewhere beyond the couch the two of you were grinding on. His hands were so strong, yet so gentle as you were carried like a princess, his princess, to his bed where he no doubt intended to indulge in every one of your desires.

Your knight in shining armor kissed you breathless under the moonlight that trickled through the window, casting his shadow over you. Even now, he stole the limelight but you couldn't find it in yourself to care this time, not when he touched you so lovingly.

Nimble fingers kneaded and pulled at your plump flesh, making their ways down to the wetness between your legs. Shame flushed your face as he throatily chuckled. “Wet for me already, imouto? You're flattering your nii-san.”

The pad of his thumb circled your clit gently, sharp eyes watching as your body jolted and twitched at the sensation. “You’re acting as though you've never been touched before.”

You hear the smile in his voice without even seeing it. It only served to flush your shame even further, avoiding the eyes that were fucking you with everything they had.

“Don’t take those pretty eyes off of me.”

His middle finger prodded gently at your hole, teasing the twitching thing with circles of his forefingers. Shyly, your eyes turned to him, begging, pleading for him to stop teasing already!

And how could he deny such an unspoken request from the love of his life? Tamaki already knew what you wanted before you even did, he always did. He’s been able to read you like a book, already knowing what would be on the next page before it was written.

Still, he liked to tease, or more so needed to. It would fuel him like no other to finally hear you beg for him, beg for the love only he knew how to give you. Not that he would be so selfish to deny you of all that you wanted, he was more than prepared to spoil his lovely princess.

But, the man couldn't deny the inklings of his insecurities coming back to bite him. There was a chance that you could regret this later, that you would run far from his reach the second the realization that you slept with your brother donned on you. Tamaki wouldn't have it, now or ever.

Your moans drew him back to the present as his finger pumped in and out of you, dragging along your spongy, wet walls that gripped him oh so nicely. He could hardly handle the anticipation of getting to feel you around his cock.

“N-Nii-san! I can't wait, want you inside!”

Your broken cry sent a shudder down his spine and a jump to his cock. Such a desperate little thing you were, but you were his desperate little thing.

Maneuvering the both of you, he sat you in his lap while holding your ass flush to his hips.

“You know what to do, pretty girl.”

Swallowing thickly, you pulled his cock out of his boxers and positioned yourself to sink down on it.

“Y-You’ll pull out, right?”

“Of course, imouto.”

That was all you needed. Determined to please him, you pushed just the tip in before sitting all the way down on it. A choked gasp filled the space as you felt the fullness of your brother’s cock inside of you.

“S-So full, nii-san!” He stretched you perfectly, letting any pain fade comfortably into pleasure.

It was then that Tamaki decided he would ruin you, not only for himself but for anyone else who dared to think they would be able to please you.

As you ground your hips down into his, you couldn't help but start to feel him grow inside you. Was this normal for sex?

“Ah! Hold on, it's really starting to hurt nii-san.”

Your hips lifted off of his, only to be slammed back down by those strong hands you've come to love.

“Just relax, princess. I'm doing this because I love you.”

Admittedly, this was his first time to try to manifest this part of his body, but he had to try for you, didn't he? Your future with him depended on it. The kiss he pressed to your temple was to soothe himself more than you, focusing on the horse meat he had eaten early that day just after you called him.

He shushed your struggles, hugging you close and stroking the ever-growing bulge in your stomach as he completed his manifestation.

“There we go.” He kissed your cries of the pain away. “It’s okay, you’re okay, princess.”

You had to understand that he was doing this for both of you. He’d ruin that cunt of yours, make it so no man other than Tamaki and his quirk could ever satisfy you.

“You were made to my cock, and mine alone, princess. I'll make you see that.”

The pain was nearly unbearable as he began to thrust up into you, hitting your cervix with the strange cock head he had produced. His hand stayed flush to the bulge on your stomach, stroking it gently as he pounded into you from below.

Your cries and moans meshed together in a perfect melody, one that was always destined to be sung by the both of you, together as one.

Neither of you were going to last long, not with his quirk in play.

“Oh God, I'm gonna cum, princess!” His thrusts became erratic, pounding into you with a new vigor.

“Y-You promised to pull out!” You cried in frustration, feeling his cum fill you up to the brim and dripping out of even with his cock still inside. Tamaki thumbed at your clit to help push you over the edge as he shrunk his cock back down, feeling you cum around him with a cry and shaky legs.

He pulled out, looking at the bulge his cum inside you left behind as he pushed on it gently, watching it gush out of you.

“Now no one else will ever want you.”

[babbushka]

Good, Good, Good, Better

Medieval King!Kylo Ren x Reader 

3.1k ; Content warnings: Mention and description of food, NSFW (Aphrodisiacs, mutual masturbation, hand-feeding, bathtub sex, rough sex, PIV, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk) 

Available on AO3!

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

He is not but three steps through the grand wooden doors which lead to the bed chambers, when he is met with your body colliding against his.

Without thinking, Kylo winds his arms around you to catch you as you jump into his embrace, an act on instinct born from having loved you for so long. Your laughter is bright as he spins you around, as your arms lock themselves around his neck.

“Kylo! Darling, you’ve returned just in time.” Your eyes are wide and filled with sparkling mirth, something far more than just the reflection of the golden candlelight. He holds you round your middle so that your feet do not touch the floor, and you cross your ankles behind you as you whisper low in his ear, “I’ve planned a very special meal for us this evening.”

“I’m ravenous.” He smirks at you, settling you down gently and pushing on your shoulders. You immediately go to your knees in the way he had hoped you would, and fuck do you look so good on your knees like that. “Come rest your ear against my stomach, see how it rumbles.”

You bite your lip, and from your spot on the floor you ruck up his tunic enough to expose his abs. A thick thatch of coarse black hair trails down from his naval, and you do not restrain yourself from the desire to lick the hard muscle which burns so hotly under your touch.

Laughing the slightest bit at your theatrics, Kylo pets down your hair and presses your ear to his abs, when at just the right moment, there is a rumble through him. Ravenous, indeed.

“How loud!” You grin up at him, so pleased that he has returned home to you in as good condition that he has. He is filthy, and hungry, but there are no wounds to be seen, and for this you are grateful. 

So grateful that you cannot help but be more playful than usual, so you smile as your cheek squishes against his abs, “Oh my King, this is a dire case, I must see at once that you are…satisfied.”

You look at one another, and he gives you a quirk of his brow, a suggestive quirk, as if to say, but you’re on your knees…

You don’t take the bait, instead getting up with a wide smile and taking his hand. He expects you to pull him through the castle and to the great hall, so when you head the opposite direction, head towards the bathing room he frowns concerningly.

“Blossom, this is…” He trails off though, when he sees the spread in front of him.

There is a large tub that has been brought to the center of the room, sitting over the fire pit which has gently been smoldering away, not much more than hot coals enough to keep the water steaming. A wooden plank stretches across one side of the tub, lavishly decorated with plates piled high with food and golden goblets of wine.

Floating in the water are herbs that produce a beautiful fragrance as they steep, candles are lit and near the opposite end of the bath, a musician is seated, gently strumming their lute.

“I thought you might like to enjoy your dinner with a long, hot, wet, soak.” You turn to your husband, licking your lips as your fingers deftly untie the yellow lacing which adorns your surcoat.

Kylo only hums in agreement, takes a step closer to you. You offer yourself to him, allow him to undress you in a way that he always clamors to do. The surcoat is a fine silk brocade, a pale blue with yellow filigree. It slips away from your body as Kylo unties it the rest of the way, and you practically shiver with anticipation as he unclasps a golden armband around the sleeve of your kirtle from each arm. After that, you are free to raise those arms above your head, and Kylo’s warm hands pull the bright blue kirtle up and over your head, letting it fall down to the floor, leaving you naked before him.

“Into the tub.” He instructs, reaching up to caress your cheek for a moment, before unpinning your hair and watching as it cascades down your back.

You do as you’re told happily, letting out a great moan as you step into the hot water, your body slinking down down down until your breasts are just barely covered. Kylo can see your nipples through the water, can see how they grow stiff as you adjust to the temperature. You look divine, next to the food. He doesn’t know what he wishes to feast on first.

Kylo rids himself of his clothing quickly, glad to have stopped by the armory to turn in his suit and mail for polishing before making his way to you. And make his way to you he does, the water spilling ever so slightly over the side of the great wooden tub, his muscles grateful for the heat of the water. Steam clings to his body as it does to yours, and he does not even think before corralling you onto his lap, licking and kissing slowly, steadily, at your throat.

“Open your mouth.” You whisper.

He looks up at you, sees what you have in your hand. You offer him what appears to be a large chunk of meat, roast venison and a perfectly soft and fragrant garlic clove. He accepts it, sucks on the fingers which enter his mouth as you press the food against his tongue. It is so flavorful, so tender and juicy, he moans as he licks up your wrist where a small droplet of sauce from the meat had rolled down.

“Again.” You grin, glad that the taste pleases him.

This time it is a large chunk of quail dipped in a pomegranate wine sauce, and the time after that it is steamed clams. Each bite is succulent, his mouth waters for it, so much so that he finds himself drooling as he watches you feed yourself in time. One for him, one for you, back and forth until your bellies begin to fill with the richness of the food.

Roast beef cooked as rare as was allowed, wrapped in a puff pastry spiced with saffron. Turnips, asparagus, carrots roasted in wine, scoops of hummus he licks and sucks off your fingers, out of your palm, kissing your skin after he swallows. You look at him with such joy, such heat behind your eyes.

“I know you have a plan of some sort, blossom, and if it were to kill me I’d be dead already.” Kylo teases, as he begins to feel…different.

Different in a good kind of way, different in a way that has him sweating – and not from the heat of the bath. His cock is achingly hard, his heart flutters, his stomach swoops, he finds that he has such a strong desire to fuck you that it’s beginning to take over every other thought in his mind. You are still on his lap, naked and beautiful and you smell so sweet, his dick rubs against your thighs and it has started to drive him mad.

Are you so affected? You must be, you’ve eaten the same foods, drank the same wine, surely you must be so affected.

He cranes his neck to look at you, and oh yes you are.

“Quite the opposite. I missed you.” You moan ever so softly as you move his hand.

Those hands of his have had a death grip on your waist and thigh, the way you’re seated on his lap has you turned sideways and your breasts are nearly pushed up into his face, he is nearly drooling with want.

“I was gone for two days.” His voice is husky, hoarse, as you guide one down between your legs, his large palm cupping your pussy. He can feel it pulsing for him, and his throat goes dry.

“Two days is a long time to go without my Knight in shining armor.” You whimper, pushing his hand against you more fully.

He gets the hint, and two of his thick fingers push into you easily to your absolute satisfaction. It’s a hard angle, but you waste no time wrapping your free hand around the thick shaft of his cock, giving it a steady squeeze. With your other hand, you reach back to the board of food and press a cream-covered chestnut into his mouth, and his cock only throbs harder.

“Oh!” Suddenly he understands, it’s the food that’s making you both like this, spurring you on. Something about the reaction your bodies have to the flavors, the spices, the something oh he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know but he wants more of it right now.

“There you are handsome.” Your face breaks into a breathtaking grin, and your hand speeds up, now that he’s finally gotten your plan all along. His moves in time with yours, and you lean your head on his shoulder as you jerk each other off, breathing a little quicker as you ask, “Feel good?”

“Y-yes,” Kylo is quick to respond, his fingers moving and stretching your cunt so you can better take him. He is so hard, his cock is so heavy in your hand even there under the water, the curve of it a promise of that sweet burn of pleasure as your fingers trail up and down the thick veins which protrude from it. “Heaven above your touch has never failed in its magnificence.”

“I’m so wet for you Kylo, feel me, touch me, see how wet I am.” Your mouth is dropped open, the wet shine of your tongue darting out to lick at your lips, and something in Kylo’s brain trips up when your hips open wide enough for him to slip in a third finger all the way to the knuckle.

“I – I have to fuck you.” He grunts out, and you’re nodding before he’s even finished getting the words out.

“Grab me, go on, be rough with me.” You encourage eagerly, quickly, happily, practically begging him, “I need you, Kylo, I need you.”

With all the strength he possesses, he lifts you clean off his lap and turns you more fully to straddle him. Your back is pressed firmly against his chest as he sits you hard on his hard and doesn’t give you much time to adjust before he’s planting his heels on the basin of the tub and thrusting up into you.

“Ah!” You gasp aloud, your mouth latching onto his throat, teeth sinking into the meat of his neck as your muffled voice moans, “You’re so big, fuck -- !”

“You can take it blossom, my good girl, I know you can.” He pulls out nearly all the way, feels the muscles of your pelvis clench around him, desperately wanting to keep him inside, before thrusting back in and knocking the wind out of you. “It’s – shit that’s tight – it’s only been two days.”

“You have to fuck me twice as hard, to make up for it, oh Kylo!” You arch your back slightly, just enough for your ribcage to expand as you take in sharp breaths on each hard push of his cock through the slick folds of your pussy.

The water does the unfortunate thing of washing away all the pretty slick that comes out of your body, but you are smart, so smart, and you’ve oiled up the water so that it might help things go smoothly, and Kylo groans groans groans as he shoves his cock farther into your cunt.

“Did you play with yourself while I was gone?” He demands to know, his arms hooking under your armpit and nearly holding you in a headlock, keeping you still. You’re squirming so much, the sensations from the food filling your whole body and driving you just as mad as he.

“No!” You wriggle against his hold, wanting to touch your clit, wanting to fuck yourself harder on his cock. He’s got you tight, the fast drag of his dick against your walls has you moaning loud, “No I saved it just for you, I haven’t come in ages!”

“M-me neither.” He grunts, pleased to hear this. Sometimes you’re not so well behaved, sometimes he has to punish you for not following his orders. But this time, this time you were good, he can tell, can tell by how tight you are.

“You gonna come in me?” The back of your throat clicks as tears of pleasure begin to cling up on your eyelashes, “Are you going to fuck me full of your big hot load?”

“(Y/N),” He pants grunts groans as the water splashes out of the tub, as he bounces you on his cock hard fast wet wet wet, so hot, burning up from the inside out, “Say my name, keep – I want to hear you crying for me.”

“Please! Please, I – Kylo, Kylokyloooohgod!” You’re shouting, eyes shut tight as your body tremors on top of his, as your teeth clack together from how your orgasm shoots up your spine.

Quickly, Kylo grabs that golden goblet from which he has sipped all night, cradles the back of your head gently yet firmly and tips the rim to your lips.

“Drink this and come on my cock.” He encourages, and you let it pour into your mouth, overflow all across your chin, let it drip and stream in rivulets between your breasts.

He has to see, has to taste it, so he pulls off of you for only long enough to turn you to face him fully, your legs shaking so badly that they cannot find purchase around his hips, so he must hold you up. You take the goblet in a pleasure weak hand and slosh spiced wine onto your breasts more heavily, your hand pushing Kylo’s head down to take them into his mouth.

“Fuuck,” He sucks and licks the wine off your nipples, broad strokes of his tongue as he lifts and lowers your hips fast fast fast and hard, fucks you on his cock, “I’m going to come in you, I’m going to come in your perfect fucking cunt.”

“Yesyesyesyes!” You’re hiccupping, crying around him, chin wobbling and eyes shut tight as you clench around him.

He slams his cock up into your pussy once more, his spine on fire from pleasure, tears coming to his own eye, drool hanging off his teeth and chin, as he comes and comes and comes, hot and thick, and so much of it that you’re sure you can feel it spreading through you. You’re moaning, and he’s grunting lowly against your chest, sounding almost like he’s in pain.

“I’m…fuck I’m still hard, I’m – ” Kylo’s starting to see spots, his vision clouding out as his cock pulses inside of you, spills and spills and spills but still craves more, “Blossom, don’t move don’t -- ohh.”

You lay him back against the edge of the tub, determined and hungry, eyes blown wide and pupils black with lust, as you find a second wave of energy to ride him fast fast fast, your hands braced on his chest as his cock splits you into two.

He grabs at your chest and kisses all over you, harsh biting kisses that will leave marks and bruises, the kind that when you’ve had your fill of one another, he will press his thumbs into to make you moan once again and again as they fade. He bites down, sucks and kisses at your shoulders, your breasts, your throat, his hand slipping down between your bodies to shakily rub at your clit.

“I’m so close, harder? Harder, please, please I’ll do anything – right there!” Your voice rises rises rises in volume until it breaks, cracks under the pressure of pleasure and screams for him, “Don’t you dare stop, don’t you fucking stop!”

“I won’t -- I need more,” Kylo’s jaw is dropped, his eyes rolled back into his head, visions of heaven sprayed behind his eyelids, visions of you. He does not even open his eyes to groan, “Stars, but you’re beautiful.”

You come again, your body wracked through with nerves so hard that you’re nearly convulsing, knees shuddering shaking around his wide hips. Your body collapses on top of his lap, gone limp in a way that has your hips relaxing and somehow, somehow, Kylo’s cock is forced deeper from the gravity of your relaxation.

He comes again, simply from the sheer all encompassing feeling of you – your body on his, your cunt tight hot wet on his cock, your hands in his hair, your taste on his tongue, your scent curling up into his nostrils and making him have no other means to function other than to come in you.

Your breathing is hot and ragged, both of you. The lute playing has since finished, the musician likely having gotten the hint and left the room unnoticed. Food has been knocked everywhere, goblets of wine are overturned. Everything is still, and Kylo is content to simply hold you and caress you as you rest your head on his chest.

He brushes your soaked hair away from where it sticks to your back, his calloused fingers grazing up and down your spine as he softly kisses your temple.

“Thank you, darling.” You sigh, your voice unsteady but filled with bliss.

“You’re trembling.” He chuckles deep in his chest, looks down at where you’re against his chest and kisses you properly, kisses your shaking smile.

“You’re still hard.” You shift your hips on his cock, not having pulled off of him yet. He groans softly, licking his lip as pleasure tickles his mind. You regard him with such love that he has to blush, when you say, “Tis a good thing then, that the fire underneath this bath has not gone out yet.”

“What have you done to me? What spell am I under?” He mumbles softly, teasingly, wanting to make you laugh. He does so love to hear you laugh.

“No such witchcraft, only the natural properties of a good meal, good wine, and good baths.” You wink at him, tucking his wet hair behind his ears. He blushes some more, embarrassed of the way his ears stick out, but you only give them a sweet tug.

“Mmm, and better pussy.” He agrees, picking up a last surviving piece of food that had not yet fallen off the board, and pressing it into your mouth, gearing up for a long night ahead.  

[who-ever-said-i-was-nice]

Hi! I like your writing so much 🥰🥰🥰. How incredible they are! So, I have a resquest about how Napoleon, Mozart, Leo, Comte,Vincent, Will ( sorry if it is too much) react to a MC who is taller than them 😂😂😂 ( like her height is 185cm) and how they fall in love with her. Thank you so much ☺️☺️☺️

Ah girl. I'm sorry for taking so damn long. I am buried under so much work, but now I have a few minutes to spare so I decided to finish this for you. I hope you enjoy and It was worth your wait. Love you and thanks again.! Here is the part 2!

Napoleon

    Napoleon was strolling around the mansion one evening. It had been a surprisingly good day. He want out with Isaac and taught the children, he sparred with Jean. It was fulfilling. He walked passed the Door, but when he got to the end of the corridor he heard something. He turned around and hurried back, only to find..nothing. He looked both ways and was ready to dismiss it, but then he heard a small sniffle come from behind an open door a little down the hall. He opened it to reveal a very beautiful girl. And she was so tall, which only added to her beauty.He, Napoleon, The nightmare of Europe, The emperor of France, felt like the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. He quickly recomposed himself and glanced back to the woman who looked about ready to cry. He closed the door and took her hand. "Why are you hiding behind a door? Everything's alright you don't need to hide. And - he paused a little - please don't cry nunuche. He smiled at the woman and extended a hand.She took it without much hesitation. "Can I have your name?" he questioned, looking slightly up to gaze into her E/C colored eyes. " Y/n" she responded rather timidly and Napoleon felt his heart flutter.                                                                                                                                           -------------------Time skip to two weeks in-----------------     

       Napoleon still felt an odd stirring feeling whenever Y/n was around. Fortunately he had now realized why. He had fallen in love with her. He wanted to tell her, he really did, but he couldn't figure out how. One cold winter night he plucked up the courage to tell you, which was a lot harder then he would have thought. He walked out into the garden looking for a very specific flower. Finally he found it. An Algerian Iris.

He picked it with careful hands and hurried to Y/n's room. He got there and swallowed hard before knocking on her door. Y/n opened it and stared down at the man. He cleared his throat. " Y/n, I know I haven't known you for too long, but I can't suppress these feeling anymore. Over the past month you have always been there for me. We laughed together, shared memories together and even made new ones. Your smile always lights up the world and no matter what happens I want you to remember, I love you." He smiled up at Y/n. Tears of happiness streamed down her face. He offered her the tiny flower. She held it with such gentleness, as if it could shatter at any moment. She then embraced her lover as she sobbed. Napoleon hugged her back, his face buried in her neck. He urged her to lean down a bit and he kissed her. She kissed back smiling into it.

Mozart

    Mozart sat alone in his room. A thousand thoughts swirling in his mind, as he tried so desperately to perfect his new masterpiece. His skilled hands glided over the keys gracefully. Suddenly he was pulled out of his thoughts by the loud noises coming from the dining room. He got up. Annoyed at all of the residents for ruining his concentration. He walks out of the room in a hurry.  When he makes it there, he turns the corner ready to throw an insult at them, however the words die in his throat as his eyes land on the tall figure standing in the middle of the room.  He's baffled at how tall that woman was. He quickly composed himself and walked over to her. The closer he got, the more he noticed about her. The way her eyes sparkled as she talked to the residents, how she would bring her hand up to her mouth when she laughed, the sway of her hair, the way she shifted her way fro one long leg to the other. But most importantly, he noticed her eyes dart around a little when looking down, as if she was afraid of something. Mozart, however could not put his finger on it. He was soon spotted by the infamous flirt, Arthur. " Mozart! Our loved composer. Come over here don't be shy." he flashed his boyish grin and Mozart made a small noise of irritation, but cam up to her. " Hello, I am Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, composer" He looked up to find her eyes shining with excitement. "Hello! I'm Y/n. It's a pleasure to meat you! I love your music and..." She just kept going, rambling about how amazing he and his music was. Mozart will never admit it, but it warmed his frozen heart. As he watched her talk all he could think about was: ' You innocent, little lamb. Where you the one I was missing? I didn't even know I was missing something till now. Someday, somehow I will make you mine'          

                   -------------------Time skip to two weeks in----------------- 

        Mozart was playing the piano, channeling all his anger into it. He missed a note and jumped up immediately. He was angry and sad, but worst of all he felt betrayed. He banged his fists against the wall as tears streamed down his face. He didn't want to cry. He fought with all his might. but the river just kept flowing. He could not have her, he could not. That was the truth. He heard a small knock on the door. He yelled an angry 'go away', but the door opened anyway. In stepped Y/n. When she spotted him, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry. She hurried over to his side and placed a delicate hand on his back. Mozart tried to trow a sarcastic comment her way, or at least push her or get her away from him, but he was rooted to the spot, crying his eyes out in front of this sweet, little lamb. " Wolf? What happened? Why do you cry?" her voice was cracking with worry and fear. Mozart lifted his head from the wall, but did not meat her eye. Instead he starred at the ceiling and spoke in and unusually quite voice. " That man...downtown. He had his arm around you....I didn't know you had a lover." He finally looked at her, only to find an expression of shock on her face. " You mean the man that walked up behind me, put his arm around me and attempted to flirt, only to get punched by Jean?" Now it was his turn to be surprised. However he could tell she spoke the truth. Had he watched a little longer he would have seen it all happen, but he was consumed by his emotions and as his anger turned to a forte, he could not look anymore.      Everything slowed down. It was a peculiar feeling. It seem like all noise had been muffled and all the thing and events faded. She smiled. A soft, sweet smile. She reached up and gently whipped his tears. She found his jealousy a bit childish, but she knew that she loved him and she would have broken down too. She understood and so she could accept. Mozart's eyes softened as he gazed into her smiling eyes and basked in her tender touch. They both moved at the same time and met in the middle. It was a sweet and gentle kiss filled with love.

Leo

      Leonardo da Vinci. The renaissance mastermind.That is what people called him, or so he had been informed by Sebastian. He always thought long and hard about that. He had invented and created a lot of things, yes, but he was not always certain he deserved that title. A nagging fear always crept up on him. Was he really that special? Was he worth it at all. After all, he faked his death. He lied to all those who adore him now. He did not deserve anything in his mind. And even if he did, he could not keep it forever. Time kills everything he loves. The people he cared for turned to dust in his hand and the hand on the clock just kept ticking. On and on and on. For eternity. He shivered and set the pocket-watch he had been fixing down. He needed some air. And a cigarillo. As he wandered the corridors he heard a bang coming from the direction of the magical door. Curious, he walked towards it only to find a simply ethereal woman standing and yanking at the doorknob. He walked up to her. " Can I help you Cara mia?" She spun around with a glare on her face looking ready to fight, but she relaxed when she saw that the man standing in front of her was not a threat.

                  -------------------Time skip to two weeks in-----------------            

       Over the course of  the week, Leo found himself enjoying her company more and more. The truth was, that he had caught feeling for her. She had beautiful h/l h/c hair and e/c eyes that sparkled every time she talked about something she liked. Not to mention, she was tall. Really tall. Taller then him actually. And he loved that. He thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. Whenever she wore her 21st century pants or skirts you could see her lovely long legs. However he tried to push these things away. He could not harbor feeling for a woman he knew he was going to loose. He could not control or tolerate the ace in his heart every time she would pass him by, or help him with something. Unfortunately, he knew that if he gave in he would hurt a thousand times more.     It was 12 o'clock at night and he could not fall asleep. Well not that he was trying to hard. He got up and decided to walk around the mansion. As he passed Mozart's door he heart Y/n's small sobs. He stopped dead in his tracks and listened. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but he caught a few words. ".. Can't have him......doesn't love me....I'm too tall" Those words where like an electric shock to him. He could make out Mozart comforting you and another voice that he believed was Jean, but he couldn't concentrate. It felt as if the whole world caved in on him. He was selfish. He had chosen his comfort over your and now this was the price he had to pay. He should have known. The bill comes due. Always! He pulled himself together the best he could and knocked on the door. Everything went silent. Mozart opened the door, looking even more pale then usual. He was about to shut the door in his face when Y/n soft voice rang out. "Don't, it's alright. I will talk to him" Jean looked ready to protest, but he let her go anyway. The stood facing each other in the hall. Leo looking slightly up to meat her teary eyes. He reached up and wiped her face. He met her gaze once again and whispered: "I'm so sorry." He pulled her in and kissed her with everything he had. Pouring all the hurt, denial, pain and love he felt. She kissed back with just as much passion. Finally he had to pull away for air. He looked back at her again." Don't ever say, you are too tall, mia bella"

As you can see, it got really long. Idk if this is what you had in mind, but yeah. I will do the other half and maybe other residents too, because this was really fun. Once again thank you for your patience and have an amazing day/night.tags: @nad-zeta @dazaiswindow @blu-tigerr @jeanstan @ichigoamamiya @shookspearewrites @chaotic-coyote I ummm taggd you guys here, idk if you want me to tag you again next time or you want me to stop, ummmm tell me i don't really know how this works so if this is not how I'm supposed to do it, tell me. I appreciate it😅

[usohtsuki]

sakuatsu fic recs!

*possibly haikyuu!! manga spoilers

the world needs to know about these beautiful miya atsumu & sakusa kiyoomi fics - let me know if i’ve missed any must-reads and i’ll update as i find more (last updated 30/04/2020). this does not include incompleted fics.

☆ = nsfw

Different Kinds of Dysfunctional (series) - DeathBelle ☆

(there’s no series description so this is just the description of the first fic)

Atsumu said into the heavy silence, “You can’t say you’ve never thought about it.”

"Thought about what?" said Sakusa.

Atsumu smiled to himself, smug. "You know."

"No, I don't."

"You know. Of course you’ve thought about it. There’s no reason to be ashamed, Omi-kun. I’m a real catch.”

Sakusa was appalled. "You're disgusting."

"You flatter me. I'm not judging you. I can't lie and say I haven't thought about it, too."

Sakusa shifted, slowly, to peer over his shoulder. He wasn’t scowling, but his expression was unreadable. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Atsumu wasn't joking, and he was about to get more than he bargained for.

your highs and lows (series) - astroeulogy  ☆

a post-time skip canonverse series born from these two questions:

1. what if sakusa kiyoomi, known too-blunt jerk, is equally straightforward about his soft, tender feelings?

2. what if miya atsumu, resident big fat jerk who doesn't care if his teammates hate him, is too emotionally stunted to notice when his one of his teammates actually likes him?

did you get your wish? - bastigod

"Miya-san, do you have any regrets?"

Atsumu hummed in response. The fabric of his jacket crinkled as he shoved his hands into his pocket. "Getting sentimental, Sakkun?" He sighed. "I suppose after your last tournament is as good a time as any for it."

good is the life, the life is good - fiskanel  ☆

From time to time Sakusa wants to empty a full clip into the head of some criminal, chop their head off and to feed the remains to starved pigs. Or avoid feeding and have a ceremonial burning so that he gets the feeling that he has done it himself, with his own hands, because now his nerves are getting the best of him. The first rule of their agency is no killing until other options get irrelevant.

got sunshine in a bag - fiskanel ☆

‘Is everything okay?’ Sakusa asks, running through Atsumu’s hair and trying to catch his breath.

‘Yes.’ In his post-orgasmic bliss Atsumu doesn’t exist as a person. He has a hoarse voice, swollen lips, watery eyes, and his semen is smeared between their stomachs. ‘It's okay.’

the inherent romance of classical conditioning (or, the fine art of emotional recognition) - pseudoanalytics  ☆

It's stupid. Atsumu isn't a romantic, no matter how many times he's imagined laying Sakusa out and finally really touching him.

So there's no explanation for why Atsumu is constantly stuck thinking about brushing his fingertips against the meat of Sakusa's palms or the prominent tendons in his freaky wrists.

There's no explanation for why doing dishes sets off a warm burn in his ribcage, or why when he smells disinfectant he inhales like he's walking past a bakery.

Yer doin' this to me, he thinks furiously, as Sakusa derails his thoughts with kisses that come more and more frequently now. Yer conditionin' me, and I can't stop it.

School Bus Yellow - yuuki 

Atsumu has a crush on Sakusa, and it’s kind of ridiculous how much he likes a guy who wears ugly colored jackets and is afraid of germs.

Though, Atsumu’s probably not all that great himself. He’s still figuring that part out.

in disguise of revelation - wordstruck

“Did you need something, Miya-san?” Sakusa asks. Is this, Atsumu wonders wryly, how thieves feel when they’re caught.

“Omi-kun,” he replies with a slow-blooming foxkill grin. (And he hits a nail on the head — the unwelcome nickname makes Sakusa’s eye twitch just slightly.) “Lemme set for ya.”

Ah, there it is. A flicker of something colder behind that flat gaze, a there-and-gone-again that still hits Atsumu like a lightning strike. It makes his grin widen. Cavalier mischief is his best shield.

“My name,” the other boy says, in a voice of steel under paper, “is Sakusa.”

we are not shining stars - wordstruck

“I wanna see the Shinhotaka Ropeway,” Atsumu explains, as if this is a reasonable explanation for dragging your professional-volleyball-playing teammate out on an impromptu eight-hour road trip to a tourist attraction six hundred kilometers away.

“Uh huh.” Osamu pauses. Atsumu can hear his twin silently contemplating various reasons for Atsumu’s continued existence. “Is Sakusa-kun your hostage?”

“He wants ta see the Shinhotaka Ropeway too.” (This is a blatant lie.)

(Ten days after they lose to the Schweiden Adlers, Atsumu knocks on Sakusa Kiyoomi's door and invites him on a road trip.)

Notice - bastigod

Embarrassingly, Miya Atsumu is the third person to notice his crush on Sakusa.

And it's his crush in the first place.

The Germaphone and the Asshole (series) - metaandpotatoes  ☆

(there’s no series description so this is just the description of the first fic)

“The germ thing,” Atsumu says, looking as if he is intensely trying not to care. Eloquent as always. And unexpected, again. An inconvenient turn of events, if the habit persists. Adjustments will have to be made. Reaction times calibrated. Kiyoomi steps back again, what he hopes is an unnoticeable amount.

“The germ thing,” Kiyoomi repeats. Atsumu—headstrong, think-never Atsumu—hesitates. Kiyoomi briefly entertains the thought that he is trapped in a lucid dream.

flowers and all that bullshit - ugaytsu ☆

Atsumu asks for flowers, Sakusa gives him an interesting one.

On Edge - cajynn ☆

Atsumu needs to learn a lesson in patience. Thankfully Sakusa is a very skilled teacher.

Multiples of Two - yuuki

He does everything in multiples of two. The day Sakusa Kiyoomi died, Atsumu checked his pulse twenty-eight times. Okay, so Sakusa Kiyoomi has never died. And Atsumu has never been close enough to Sakusa to be able to check his pulse. So what if Atsumu is just being dramatic again? He’s allowed to be dramatic when he’s in love with a man who has less emotion than a rock.

after hours - novacaelum

"Are you scared of being caught, Omi-kun?"

"No." Sakusa's voice is strong despite his breathlessness, Atsumu smirks and crashes their lips together again.

crushed - strawberrycitrus ☆

"Can you crush a watermelon between your thighs?"

The entire team bursts into laughter, whereas Sakusa looks disgusted by the thought, because of course he would - Atsumu imagines that getting anywhere close to a food product with his legs would probably get him killed on sight.

The watermelon doesn't stand a chance.

show me how - emeraldpalace

Sakusa isn’t sure when or how it happened, but the fact remains: Miya Atsumu has become a comfortable constant in his life.

Black Jackals teammates verify controversial relationship announcement - pseudoanalytics

Despite initial public skepticism, sources close to Miya Atsumu (#13) and Sakusa Kiyoomi (#15) insist the relationship is authentic and not a publicity stunt.

Towers - slice_of_cheesecake

As the second prince of Inari Kingdom, Prince Atsumu has his duties to fulfill. Other than that, his twin brother, Crown Prince Osamu, just can't be bothered with such a troublesome quest, unless it's about food.

There's a nefarious sorcerer that is infamous for terrorizing neighboring kingdoms and Atsumu is given the task to slay the villain. But as soon as he sees the evil sorcerer, he suddenly forgot about his quest. Instead, he makes it his top priority to know more about this mysterious man and how he came to realize that all things are not always what they seem.

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

touch me, hold your hand to the flame, keep it there as long as you can stand - kaashiboo  ☆

“I don’t trust you,” Sakusa says, and: “Don’t touch me.” Miya Atsumu does not flinch as grazed joints press against their shoulder, unfolding slowly, grasping onto them. Their breath hitches. Closed eyelids flutter, but don’t open up. “Don’t touch me,” Sakusa repeats, pleadingly, his fingers trembling so hard he thinks he can’t keep this up. Yet, he’s the one putting more pressure into it. Desperately, starvingly, longingly. “I won’t.” Atsumu promises. “I won’t touch ya, Kiyoomi-kun. I won’t.”

you make my heart burn - myhopeisjhope

“What’s up with that awful expression?” Atsumu asked. He leaned against the counter with his hip, looking directly at Kiyoomi, his regular fox-line grin plastered on his face.

Kiyoomi made eye-contact with him then, his eyebrows knotting in annoyance, but Atsumu was too interested in the cute pair of beauty marks above Kiyoomi’s eye to care about the glare that was sent his way.

“What’s up with that awful hair?” Kiyoomi shot back.

And that was exactly when Atsumu decided he liked the guy.

we’re falling out of touch - NovaCaelum

Sakusa loves Miya's hands. They look coarse from playing volleyball for long hours, they curve perfectly and set a ball as if he's reading the player's thoughts. As if he could. If it was true, then he'd know how Sakusa can't drag his eyes away from long fingers, rough calluses...How Sakusa wants to run the pads of his fingers over the shape, memorise it as if he'd never have the chance to do it again.

sometimes we have to wait (it takes time to find you) - ProudHaikyuuTrash

Three times Atsumu falls in love and is left heart-broken and the one time he gets his happy ending. 

The Misadventures of Crackshot and Limber - astroeulogy ☆

Six months ago, the hero known as Bloodhound became the latest in a long line of mysterious disappearances. When a sudden break in the case leads his old partner and twin brother to the home of Southpaw, the most famous hero in Osaka, things take a turn for the—strange. 

drive me mad (series) - Ceryna  ☆

snapshots of a tattoo & motorcycle AU fusion, featuring Kiyoomi with tattoos and a motorcycle, and head-over-heels pining Atsumu.

Heresy - honeybakedgrace

“I’d like to see that,” Kiyoomi jokes, a cheeky grin curling up the corners of his lips. Atsumu closes the gap, slowly, then all at once, until they can feel the other’s breath on their lips.

“It's too bad,” Atsumu trails off, eyes cast onto Kiyoomi’s exposed neck.

“Too bad?”

“Too bad,” Atsumu echoes, “in another life, maybe I coulda shown ya.”

Shades of Ink - DeathBelle  ☆

It’s fortunate that Miya Atsumu is such a good tattoo artist, because that appears to be his only redeeming quality. He’s too loud, too cocky, and so overtly flirtatious that Sakusa almost leaves the shop before he even steps inside. But he’s seen firsthand that Atsumu does good work, so he stays and suffers through it.

The longer he's there, the more he thinks maybe Atsumu isn't all bad.

When Atsumu asks for a tattoo from Sakusa’s shop in return, Sakusa knows he should turn Atsumu down. He doesn’t.

What should have been a routine business transaction turns into something more hands-on than either of them expected.

compositional control - almondblossom ☆

Sakusa Kiyoomi hated Miya Atsumu’s smug face, how bossy he was to the staff, and how full of himself he got. Even worse, he was outraged by how good Atsumu looked when he edited the photos from their shoot and how he ended up staring at them long after he was done. He loathed him and his pretty face and how it was all he could think about.

I Heard Your Voice - mrkscafe

Where Sakusa meets Atsumu while at work.

“Hey there, Pretty Moles-kun!”

Don’t turn off the light (I’ll give you what you like) - Liberty_Fede ☆

Atsumu thinks he can tease Sakusa, but gets completely wrecked instead.

three roses and a smile -  strawberrycitrus

“I just got this job, I’m not givin’ it up for some moral boost ‘cause I actually need to pay my rent, ya insensitive -” Atsumu waves his hands around, trying and failing to come up with the right word to convey the amount of injustice that this gaunt motherfucker has brought into his relatively simple life thus far.

“If you can’t pay your rent, go get a job at the McDonald’s over by 8th Street,” Sakusa growls, “it’ll pay more than your researcher position.”

If you even attempt assault on a coworker, forget teaching about cells - you’ll fucking be in one, Atsumu.

Live A Little - DeathBelle ☆

Sakusa's first mistake is getting on the motorcycle.

The second is his inability to walk away from Atsumu.

just a boy undercover (and a boy with a getaway) - volchitsae

Atsumu reaches out, clearly ready since birth to fuck with people. "Hey, I'm Atsumu Miya. Nice to work with The Lonely Lance." Osamu tries to kick at the back of his knee, but Atsumu is already moving toward Sakusa to get into his space.

Sakusa grasps the tips of Atsumu's fingers with his gloved hand for half a second before snatching it back. The warmth of the leather makes Atsumu's fingers twitch.

"It's Sakusa. I know who you are." Atsumu notes that he does not look pleased at all.

Instantly, his feud with Osamu hits the back burner. Atsumu wants to piss off the living shit out of this guy, 24/7, 365.

godeater - hozier

I’m still waitin’ for the day you consume me whole.

let them eat chaos - mirabilis

Standing between God and Ozymandias himself, Kiyoomi forges the remains of the boy who once challenged the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium and lost.

Saltwater - DeathBelle

“I said I was taking a walk alone.” Sakusa’s voice sounded odd, washed out by the low roar of the ocean. He sounded small, insignificant, and maybe he was.

“Yeah, I heard you.” Atsumu sounded the same as ever, loud and bold and always teetering on the edge of obnoxious. He stepped up beside Sakusa, maybe looking at him, maybe gazing out at the water.

“And you didn’t listen,” said Sakusa. “That’s typical.”

“I listened. I just heard what you didn’t say, too.”

an observational study of the modern desmodus rotundus - firtree

Ever since meeting Miya Atsumu, Kiyoomi's life has been a continuous stream of very unlucky incidents that have bled into a veritable sea of regret in which he finds himself, with no hopes of swimming back to the shore. In short, everything that is wrong with his life can (and will be) be attributed to making the acquaintance of Miya Atsumu.

Or: Some might think that becoming a vampire is the biggest problem that Kiyoomi will ever have to face. Wrong. His biggest problem comes in the form of Miya Atsumu and the crush he definitely does not have on him.

Reaching Through the Screen - cajynn ☆

“Oh my god.” Atsumu looks both shocked and thoroughly amused. “Omi-Omi. Is that porn?”

Euterpe - 09271996

Atsumu does not sing nor spare a glance at the instrument even once. His fingers alone do the wonders. Like a person meditating, only having his fingers move all according to instinct. He plays a hauntingly sad song, if Sakusa would describe it. He is not familiar with it but the way the chords resonate around the room and gives goosebumps to his skin, he knows that if he goes to sleep, it’s going to haunt him.

want you in my room - volchitsae ☆

"we hooked up and now the city has shut down for a week due to a pandemic and now we're stuck in your apartment" AU -- There’s a comfortable quiet while Sakusa butters some toast until Atsumu’s phone starts ringing from where it’s plugged into the wall. Sakusa scoops it up from the desk in the living room and hands it over to Atsumu, who puts it on speakerphone.

“Yo, ‘Samu,” Atsumu says, around a mouthful of cereal.

“Oh, so now you pick up.”

“My phone died!”

“We thought you died. It’s lucky you weren’t murdered. Unlucky for me, I’ve always wondered what it was like to be an only child.”

“You mean, I’m lucky I wasn’t murdered by his dick –“

“SHUT –“

Atsumu grins and shoots at look at Sakusa, who raises his eyebrows and takes a sip of coffee.

take what’s yours and make it mine - claudusdiei

atsumu falls in love four times in his life

(or: in which atsumu gets his heart broken twice, has the self-awareness of a sober mule and really likes yellow tulips)

nothing but some heartburn, baby - volchitsae

"your apartment is next to mine and i can hear you and your partner dancing and singing and the bed moving and you two laughing and talking in hushed tones and it won’t let me sleep so i bitch about it to you 24/7 and one day it stops and one day turns to one week and then months and i haven’t seen you smile in forever please let me in, i’ve been knocking for ten minutes" AU

Sakusa is just trying to pass med school.

as you are - waitaminute

Kiyoomi learns that falling for Atsumu is the easiest thing in the world.

bet on it - kambedon

Volleyball players are known for a lot of things.

Intense plays, long rallies, arm-breaking serves—those are only some of the things they are known for. But in Japan, the volleyball players (high school, college, and professionals alike) are infamous for something that no one really expected: their betting pool.

(or alternately, everyone finds out that one of the best spikers in Japan, Sakusa Kiyoomi, is dating someone and they try to figure out his identity while the person he’s dating remains clueless about it.)

two slow dancers - babbito

Atsumu smiles, Sakusas face still downturned in displeasure. It only makes butterflies storm his stomach, the fluttery feeling making him feel warm.

“You wanna know somethin’ Omi-kun?” He asks, Sakusas eyes still bore into Atsumus, waiting for him to continue. “You look really pretty when you sleep.”

my heart is thrilled by the still of your hand - volchitsae  ☆

“And that’ll be $27.50,” Atsumu says, fishing out a card machine from one of the bag pockets. “Debit or credit?”

Sakusa pulls out his wallet and pays with a credit card, and Atsumu dutifully packs it all away before extending the bagged blood over the threshold. Sakusa takes them but raises one eyebrow at Atsumu, a silent question at the maid costume and not the regular red and black polo shirt with slacks.

Atsumu fiddles with the bag strap. “Honestly, I was tryin' to come up with a pizza boy porn line, something about having ordered sausage and relating it to vampires, but I’ve got nothin’,” he confesses, which makes Sakusa laugh. Atsumu sees the flash of sharper than usual canines in his smile.

i keep a window for you, it’s always open - volchitsae

Atsumu scrolls around on YouTube, feeling like he's spiralling a little into the odd corners of it when some recommended videos are "I'm a Plague Doctor and You've Been Diagnosed with the Black Plague ASMR" or videos of people eating truly remarkable amounts of food. No judgement (maybe a little bit, he's no angel), but mukbangs make him hungry and whispering roleplay makes his ears itch. A video called "Study With Me: Pomodoro Technique #1" appears and he clicks on it.

The channel's name is endomiphins, and the thumbnail features a view of a man from the neck downward at his desk, notebook and laptop open.

Atsumu presses play. -- Sakusa is a barista by day, ASMR and study YouTuber by night, and Atsumu falls a little in love with both.

[argethara]

I miss Zabel Zoë -Ackerman.

Thank you @luanabonn for this art !!! I never imagined him as a young adult but wow he is a very fine being. Hange and Levi’s child would be so beautiful because they’re two very beautiful people too- inside and out. I love LeviHan so much <333

----------

Raising a child after winning a war was supposed to be a more tolerable task. Hange and Levi believed that if they have survived literally mountain-high obstacles to get where they are now, parenting one brat unlike the thousands they had to care for before would be easy peasy.

But no, Levi thinks that after all the trouble, he has successfully raised a little (well, not-so-little anymore) devil from his own flesh. After 20 good and bad years, it still baffles him how Hange finds their son’s mischievous character endearing. Sometimes he wonders how his son turned out like that; and he can only wonder as Zabel sassed him the moment he got home for his school break. 

“I-I was joking earlier. Dad, please listen, I think I know what I want to do for real.” Zabel groaned exactly the way Hange did when they were adamant to capture titans outside the walls before. 

“And I said shut up. We’re not talking about this again.” 

Zabel sported a scowl and angrily peels the potatoes on the table. Levi shook his head while bringing the pots he will use to make their dinner for tonight. “Careful.” He reminded him.

There was silence as they worked on their respective stations in the kitchen. Levi glanced at him quietly cutting the peeled potatoes to chunks. 

He wanted to chuckle at the sight, Zabel grew up looking like him, but his air is very much Hange (Although she argues that Zabel talks like him most of the time.)

“Why haven’t you told this to Hange?” He asked while waiting for the meat to go tender inside the pot. 

Zabel frowned at the potatoes. 

“Oi, talk.’ Levi commanded, crossing his arms to his chest.

“She might...” Zabel muttered the rest of his words.

“What?”

“You know her, she might cry and I might change my mind. Dad, I know this is it. I want this, I have enough will to pursue this path until I die. This is my calling.”

Levi stared intently at the young man bent over the table. And you think I won’t cry over it, huh, he scoffed internally. 

“You know it's been on my mind, I write to you a lot about it. So I tested my luck and applied for a scholarship…” Zabel looked up to him. Levi’s frown melted, seeing his son back to his five-year old self, with those pleading yet determined blue-gray eyes staring back at him. However, he was taken back to reality when he continued, “I got accepted. I can fly there next year, all expenses paid by the sponsor.” 

The father’s scowl deepened, processing the information. “Next year is in four months. You won’t enroll for second year?”

Their child sighed. “Yes. I’m planning to stay here until then.”

“That’s why you brought all your stuff back? You said you were enjoying Physics.” 

“And I thought Journalism was for me too. But the point here is, your son could be an aeronautical engineer and fly in four years. And I know, I will never regret this decision, ever.” 

“Marley is already far…” Levi distracted himself by checking if the pork was cooking well.

“The Azumabitos own the best engineering school in the world, Dad.” 

“Ah, they do.” His voice became soft while Zabel laid out his plans for changing programs for the second time.

They finished cooking. Zabel gave him anxious glances as he fixed the table setting the way Levi had taught him.

Placing the pot of stew on the center, Levi sat down and brushed his son’s bangs back. “Zabel, sulking doesn’t suit you.”

“Please support my decision,” he cowered on his seat. 

“I’m not saying no, aren’t I?”

His taller copy slacked his jaw in surprise, “But you said-”

“That was me bitching about my child going farther away from home. Remember what I said when you first left home?”

“Yes. Yes, Dad, I will not disappoint-” Levi gave him a stern look, “Myself, I will not disappoint myself. No regrets.” 

The men chuckled together until they heard a familiar hiccup. 

“Hange, join us here.”

A crying Hange went inside the kitchen. “Zabel, my baby,” she weakly called Zabel into her arms. 

Zabel stood up and hugged her. “You heard everything.” 

Hange cried harder, “Of course, and I’m always proud of you but-”

“Let’s talk about it over dinner,” Levi suggested.

Zabel is still figuring out how he could use his wings and soon he will learn how to fly without their help. For the time being, the Ackermans are finally complete again.  

[ihearthes]

Quarantine Christmas Part  2

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x y/n Rating: Smut Word Count: 2768 (Part 1) Fiction Chalenge via @caitlin‘s fiction party via @sweetcreatureinthedark

Part 1

December 24, 2020

“Smith!” he bellows way too early and cheerfully as he pounds on my bedroom door. “Happy Christmas Eve! Come on! Let’s go for a jog.”

“Arrrrggggghhhhh,” I growl. “No.”

“If you hike the Hastain Trail with me, I’ll spring for coffee afterwards.”

“Go away, Styles.” Drawing the pillow over my head, I try to block out the sound of his voice. 

“Fresh air will be good for you.”

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” 

“Not on your life. I hate hiking alone.”

“Fine!” Throwing the covers off, I don my newly cleaned leggings, sports bra, and a t-shirt before opening the door and marching past him in my tennis shoes. “Bully,” I accuse. 

“You’re mad that I’m forcing you to take care of yourself?” Although he sounds offended, that smirk is back. 

“Whatevs, Styles. Let’s go.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

He sets off at a brisk pace, and I trail behind him slightly. After all, I’m still waking up. 

“Keep up, Smith!”

Just to be ornery, I slow my stride, taking my time examining the plants next to the path. When I next glance up, Harry is a solid quarter mile ahead of me, and I contemplate turning back, finding a picnic table and taking a nap on it until he’s done. 

But no. That’s not to be, as he turns and jogs back to me, keeping his legs pumping as he moves backwards. 

“You’re going to trip on something,” I caution. 

He grins. “You care about me!”

My eyes roll so far back into my head that I swear I can see my own brain. “No. But I care about Glenne, and she would be mighty upset if I had a part in damaging you.”

“Mhm.” The smirk is back, and as hard as I try to keep a sour look on my face, it’s challenging. “Where was Christmas supposed to be?” His question is casual, but it causes me to flinch.

“Indiana,” I snap off the word like one would a twig on a dying tree. Immediately, I feel guilty. “Sorry.” My mumble is quiet, but loud enough for him to hear and nod in silent acceptance. “You don’t deserve rudeness. What about you? London?”

“Holmes Chapel. With my mum, my sister, and her boyfriend.”

“Ah. Is it cold there this year?”

“Fairly mild. And Indiana?”

“Cold, cold, cold. Maybe even snow still on the ground.”

“Yeah. Christmas in Los Angeles is quite different.” Harry gestures around the trail, and I smile. 

“Definitely.”

“What are your favorite traditions?” 

By the time we loop back around to the start of the trail, we’ve exhausted the topic, and I realize my mood has improved tremendously. 

“Thank you, Harry.” The words are soft, and I try to insert as much authenticity as I can into them. 

I have the pleasure of watching his eyes soften as he observes me over the top of the car. “Coffee next! And a trip to the grocery!”

“Grocery? You’re cooking?”

“WE are baking and then cooking.”

“Really?”

“Yep. We’re going to create a mashup of our traditions.”

“No fucking way!” I exclaim, excited at the prospect. Sitting up, I search for a piece of paper and a pen. “I didn’t bring my purse, Styles. Give me your phone.”

“My phone?” Confused, he gazes at me while at a stoplight. 

“I need to write down the ingredients we need to buy. Let’s see. We can’t make some of the cookies we each like because I don’t know if Glenne has cookie cutters in the right shapes. So how about some ginger biscuits?” 

When he nods, I gesture for his phone. “Come on, Styles. I need to look up recipes and make sure we get the right ingredients.”

Reluctantly, he unlocks his phone, handing it to me. “No snooping,” he warns, shaking his finger in my direction. 

“Puuuuuuullllllleeeeeasssse. As if.” Using his browser, I search for a recipe for the ginger biscuits for him as well as one for thumbprint jam cookies, copying the ingredients into his Notes app. 

“Now, for dinner,” he begins, and my fingers pause as I wait for his next words. “Mum used to do a roast, but I don’t eat meat anymore. Just fish. And your family always does turkey. How do we compromise on a protein?”

“Scallops? Salmon? Both delicious and something I would consider fancy enough for a holiday meal.”

“Excellent!” Harry declares. “And can we agree on brussel sprouts and yams?”

My whole being is excited at the prospect of this meal with Harry. Suddenly there’s a silver lining to spending my favorite holiday away from my family. 

As he turns off the engine, I rest my hand on his wrist until he twists to look at me. “Thank you, Harry.”

“You already said that.” He rolls his eyes, but the crinkles send a different message. 

Less than 30 minutes later, we’re back in the car with the trunk full of groceries, including prosecco. After stopping for the promised coffee, we return to Glenne and Jeffrey’s house, unloading the food. 

“Mind if I take a shower before we start?” I ask, looking down at my clothing. “I feel dusty still from the trail.”

“Let’s both shower --” He stalls at my shocked expression “-- in separate bathrooms, Smith. Then let’s see who can put together the worst Christmas outfit from whatever we can find in the guest bedroom where we’re each sleeping.”

A grin crosses my face. “Oh, you’re going down, Styles!” Rushing out of the room, I’m confident that my ears are playing tricks on me because I think he responds with “I would love to go down on you.” He must have said something completely different, and I shake my head to clear the thought. 

When I emerge later, I’m wearing my grey sweatpants which I’ve pinned garland to along with one of my green hoodies and a giant wreath draped around my neck like a necklace by a red ribbon. Arriving in the kitchen, I’m stopped in my tracks by the sight of Harry wearing a skirt of wrapping paper over his also-grey sweatpants, along with a variety of bows stuck to his Green Bay Packers hoodie. 

He shrugs, “Apparently they use that guest bedroom for storing wrapping paper.” 

I laugh as I pluck one of the bows off his hoodie and place it on my chest after removing the wreath. 

“You win,” I concede. “I’m surprised there’s so much Christmas stuff in their house.”

“Eh. The Azoff family celebrates everything.”

“Lucky us, then.”

Side by side, we create the dough first for the ginger biscuits and then for the thumbprint cookies. After he slides the first pans into the oven, Harry crosses his arms. “Scrabble while we wait for them to bake?”

“Oh, it’s on!” I agree, and we settle at the dining room table to play the game. 

“Fine. You win,” Harry pouts over an hour later as I play my final letter which manages to be on a triple word score tile. 

“Woo hoo!” Stuffing one of the ginger biscuits in my mouth, I chew thoughtfully. “These are pretty good. I might make them again next year.”

“Same for these,” Harry grins as he chews on one of the thumbprint cookies. Crossing his arms on the table in front of him, he leans toward me. “Now how about you tell me exactly why you turned down my account when Glenne offered it to you?”

Shock courses through my body, and I freeze, knowing my face is likely turning into a candy cane red. 

“She told you?”

“Of course she told me! I had specifically asked for you, so I was a bit heartbroken when she told me that you refused.”

His word choice makes me raise an eyebrow. “Heartbroken?”

“Devastated? Wrecked? Disappointed? Take your pick, Smith.”

Swallowing, I make eye contact with him. “I’ll tell you why I turned down our account if you’ll tell me why you call me Smith.”

His tongue darts out and wets his lips as his green eyes bore into me. “Because you remind me of a Granny Smith apple.” Confusion must sweep across my face, as he continues talking. “You’re tart at first, but you can be sweetened. I’ve witnessed it in the past as well as just the last two days.” His face colors, but he continues speaking anyway. “Plus I suspect you’re incredibly juicy, and I would love a sample.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Had Harry Styles just made a very obvious overture? Yes. Yes, he had. My eyes float over his face, searching for any indication that he’s lying, but the sincerity is striking. 

First I look at my entwined hands, and then I decide to show the same courage he has exhibited. “I turned down your account because I couldn’t possibly work for you when I’m this attracted to you. It’s bad form to want to --” I can’t decide on the appropriate word, so I settle for “-- jump your client.”

The smirk is back, and it’s followed by an uproarious laugh. “This is too rich! To think that we could have been having some sort of relationship all this time is mind-numbing.” Rising, he holds out his hand. “How about we consummate our mutual attraction?”

“In the middle of the afternoon on Christmas Eve?”

“You got a better idea of how to spend our time?” 

“Swimming?” I tease. 

“Smith?”

“Yeah?”

“Take my hand.”

His words and tone make it clear that he’s interested in moving forward with this. My own body’s response is in sync with his. Gently, I place my hand in his as I rise from the table. Twisting his body, he also shifts his hand, leading me in the direction of…where? A bedroom seems too rushed. Not that my hormones would agree. 

But no. We walk down the two steps into the living room where he turns on the Christmas tree lights before settling on the couch and tugging my arm so that I join him. “Oh, wait.” Rising, he approaches the sound system, and soon the strains of Christmas music fill the space. Returning to my side, he settles with his arm around me. 

“Smith…” His words are a whisper, and I rotate my head in his direction as he brushes his finger over my cheek. When our lips meet, I swear I can hear the angels sing. His mouth is soft and tender, and I twine my fingers through the hand draped over my shoulder as I open wide to allow him to enter. Our tongues tangle in heat and dampness that also seems to pool between my legs. He tastes of the lemon curd thumbprints we had jointly made, and I relish the flavor, wanting more. 

Shifting closer to him, I tilt my head to provide greater access, and his hand drifts to my sweatpants. Withdrawing from me, he examines our clothes. “Mind if I remove this garland?”

“Not at all,” I purr. “As long as I can get rid of these bows.” The wrapping paper skirt had already been ruined when we sat down for the Scrabble game. 

Rather than unpinning the garland, though, he hooks his thumbs into my waistband and draws the sweatpants over my hips. “Up, Smith.” I lift my bum as he removes my bottoms, leaving me in my panties. 

In return, I inch his hoodie up his chest and off, tossing it over my shoulder, heedless of the bows that seem to desire to stay attached to the musician. Can’t say I blame them. 

“Hmmmm,” he murmurs before capturing my lips again. 

When we come up for air, my hands have managed to roam his chest, tweaking his nipple and wrenching a moan from his mouth. For his part, his hand has drifted over the small piece of cloth separating my treasure from full access. His thumb rubs a pattern over the fabric, and soon I’m panting. 

“Fuck,” I mutter as we separate. 

“Yes please” is his cheeky reply. 

“Dork,” I indict.

“Mhm. Take off that hoodie. Please.” 

Willingly, I oblige. Before the material has hit the floor, he’s capturing my nipple in his mouth, and I throw my head back as fire stokes through my body from my tits to my core. “Shit,” I proclaim. 

His fingers return to the scrap of cloth covering my center. As his thumb teases my clit through the silk, a finger slips underneath and into me. Without thought, I cry out, my lower body rising from the bed to get closer to heaven. 

“Been a while?” His voice is rough, sounding like sandpaper as he dislodges from my breast. 

“Too long,” I pant, “but you’ve always had the power to bring me to the brink just with a look.”

“I see,” he smirks, and normally I would want to smack him, but this time, I find it endearing. 

“I want --” I gesture to his sweats, and he grins. 

“If I refuse?”

“Then my treasure box can close pretty quickly if I don’t have something in my hands.”

Harry laughs. “Fair enough.” Shucking his sweatpants over his hips, I find that he’d chosen not to wear underpants as his cock springs upwards into my waiting hand. 

“Shit. I need lubricant.” I complain. 

We gaze at each other, the lust clear. Jumping up from the sofa, we race together to Glenne and Jeffrey’s bathroom. I scour the lower cabinets while Harry throws open the linen closet. “Got it!” he announces, holding the bottle over his head. 

“Thank God!” My relief is real. Grabbing the bottle from him, I find I can’t move. Now what? Where do we go? We can’t very well do the deed in their bed. 

Grabbing my hand, Harry once more takes the lead, and we end up in his guest bedroom. I gesture at the bed, and he strips off the duvet before lying down on his back. Crawling onto the mattress, I settle between his thighs, tilting the bottle of lube and squeezing a fair amount into my hand. Relaxed, I hold my hand over his cock, allowing droplets to fall. His eyes plead with me, and I grin at him. 

“Impatient, Styles?”

“Desperate for you, Smith.”

With that pronouncement, I wrap both hands around his length, allowing my fingers to glide gently along his shaft. One hand falls underneath where I can tickle his balls playfully. When his hips start bucking, I withdraw from him completely -- albeit slowly with a final few long strokes. 

His eyes fly open, and he pats the bed next to him, so I lie there. 

“Smith…”

“Shhhh. Hush, Styles.”

Miraculously he doesn’t say anything, but he does reach out and shift aside the fabric over my vagina before he delves a finger inside. I know I’m wet. Hell, I can feel the dampness. 

His finger teases me, and I writhe under his attention. 

“Fuck, Styles. I’m gonna…”

“Do it!” he orders, and my lower body creates a bridge as my hips rise into the air while my thighs tremble in ecstasy. 

As I land back onto the bed and earth itself from my recent visit to heaven, Harry carefully removes my panties and throws them over his shoulder. 

“Condom?” He inquires.

“IUD. You clean?”

“Yep. Got tested not long ago. You?”

“Fuck me, Styles. We deserve this.”

“Indeed,” he grins just before he plunges into me, and I cry out at the feel of his length inside me, filling me and touching every part of me. 

“Shit.” My breaths come in short spurts as he pumps into me. I can’t seem to catch my breath as my second orgasm starts building. “Shift to the left, Styles.”

“You got it, Smith. Can you scratch at my back?” 

“You bet.” 

The communication is nice as we guide each other to what pleases us the most. As much as I want to take our time, it’s not nearly long enough before I feel my insides begin to clench in a familiar way. 

“Fuck, Styles. I’m coming!”

“Me too, Smith! Fuuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkk!” He stretches the word into multiple syllables as I feel his seed squirting into my womb, stopped only by my birth control. His fingers reach between our bodies as he manipulates my clit until I see stars and arch my lower body to become closer to him. 

Collapsing on top of me, his breathing is as uneven as my own. 

“Merry Christmas, Smith,” he murmurs while we’re still joined. 

“Merry Christmas, Styles,” I reply, hugging his body tightly to mine. No telling if we have a future, but this holiday is going to be one for the books. 

A/N:  This short story is dedicated to those who aren’t able to join family this Christmas due to the Coronavirus.  Be safe.  Be healthy.  Make the best of the situation. Sending you BIG HUGS!

[the-lady-of-stars]

Honey, Honey

Javier Peña x Reader x Steve Murphy

Warnings: A sickening amount of fluff maybe but that's about it.

Summary: It's your turn to pick the film for movie night, so naturally you go with a classic- Mamma Mia

Request: "Hi! Can i request poly Javi x reader x Steve where the reader makes the boys watch her favorite movie (maybe like twilight or something cheesy) and they make remarks and jokes about it the whole time to mess with her and she jokingly starts a pillow fight to shut them up and just something really fluffy? thank youuu❤️ ~nonie🦋"

A/N: Hope you enjoy nonnie! Thank you for such a sweet request! Also I went with Mamma Mia bc for some reason I've never gotten around to watching Twilight

[My Narcos requests are still open for Steve and Javi- I write fluff and angst :) ]

The rules were set. You, Steve and Javi would alternate turns to pick the movie for movie night, and when someone picked one the others weren't allowed to complain about it. Of course, the no complaining rule was never abided but still- it was your turn to pick and your boys would have to deal with it.

While they were getting together beer and snacks you rummaged through your handbag for the tape of tonight's rental - a classic- Mamma Mia. Rom-com, musical, what more could you ask for. Sure, you could have picked some heavy fast-paced action film with an in-depth plot, but extensive hours at the DEA lead to you long for a temporary escape from gunfire and car chases- so Mamma Mia it was.

You slid the tape into the player before retreating to the plush couch and settling down next to Steve. His eyes softened and the stress visibly melted from his face as he looked down at you, a warm smile tugging at his lips. He moved his hand to your chin, tracing a thumb along your bottom lip tenderly before leaning down to repeat the action with his lips, capturing them in his own.

"Hey," Javi's gruff voice interrupted, "no funny business, it's movie night."

"Aww, y' jealous, Peña?" Steve drawled, not lifting his eyes from your gaze as he caressed your skin.

The last thing you heard was a huff before you found yourself tilting backwars with a yelp, Javi bending you back from Steve and pulling you into a passionate kiss. Where Steve's was soft and calming, Javier's was rough and possessive, claiming your lips with a swipe of his tongue. He pulled away with a smirk, leaving you panting breathlessly.

"Me? No, 'course not."

You watched, slightly dazed, as Murph rolled his eyes and flicked a piece of popcorn in Javi's direction, the latter catching it in his mouth with a wink.

"Stop distracting me, it's movie night," you whined, settling back into your space in the middle of the couch.

"What'd you pick, anyway?" Steve asked.

You smirked as you hit the play button, knowing they'd be suffering for your enjoyment for the next two hours.

"Ugh, God" Javier groaned, palming over his face, "another fucking musical."

Steve burst out laughing at the grin on your face, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and squeezing you closer against him.

"Shhhhh- no complaining, Jav, you know the rules," you laughed at the pained expression on his face as he turned his eyes to you from over his hand.

"Fine, fine- okay, just- get it over with."

You grinned, shifting to lie with your head in Javi's lap and your legs in Steve's. You watched as Javi tried to keep up his façade of being grumpy, failing miserably at the sight of your excited eyes beaming up at him, a smile pulling at his mouth.

Three sets of eyes turned to the telivision as the opening number played. You made it about 15 seconds in before Javier began to complain.

"See, why does everyone have to start singing, like what's that about-"

"Shh!" you hushed him, feeling Steve's chest shake as he laughed.

Javier groaned as he took in the lyrics of the song, eyes squinting as he shook his head.

"A love machine? Hells that supposed to mean? I feel like if you're being mechanical in bed it can't be that go-"

"JAVI!" you whined, swatting at his chest.

"Okay, okay, fine, I'll shut up," he raised his hands in surrender.

You got about ten seconds of blissful silence before-

"I think I'd describe myself as a love machine-" Steve started.

"That's not a good thing, Murph, like I said-"

"OHH, will you two please just let me watch the film in peace," you groaned, tipping your head back in defeat.

"Yes ma'am," Steve grinned, petting your thigh lovingly with soft strokes and squeezes.

For the next little while the boys were quiet, Steve still stroking your thigh while Javier played with your hair.

Until Javier once again...

"Why'd they hire that guy, he really can't sing- I mean listen to him!"

"Ah ah ah, I will not accept any Pierce Brosnan slander, thank you very much." You quickly interrupted him, poking a finger up at his chin.

"He is good lookin' though, I mean look at those eyes-" Steve rose his eyebrows and motioned to the screen.

"Isn't that guy almost 70 now?" Javier complained, looking at Steve in disbelief.

"And? Your point is?" you objected. "He's a total DILF!"

Javi sighed deeply, throwing his head back and shaking it lightly.

"Yeah, I'm with her on this one," Steve agreed.

"'Course you are," Javi stated before mumbling "ass-kisser" under his breath.

Javier resigned himself to suffering in silence for the rest of the film, grumpily shovelling handfuls of popcorn into his mouth.

Meanwhile you and Steve were working at the drinks, downing more and more until you became so invested in the musical it became a karaoke. Meryl Streep, as much as you loved her, couldn't hold a candle to Murph's drunken and off-key rendition of 'The Winner takes it all', Javier pretending not to be entertained as you rolled in laughter in his lap with tears streaming from your eyes.

Two hours later the credits finally rolled, causing Javi to sigh in relief. That was, naturally, until the post-credits tune Waterloo began, invoking yet another karaoke rendition from Steve and yourself, Steve holding you upright on your knees on the couch chest to chest.

"Please, no more, you two sound like street cats fighting over the last scrap of meat."

Steve gasped in mock offense before lifting on of the throw pillows and lobbing it in Javier's direction.

"Oh you wanna play it that way, huh? Pillow fight? Like a little girls' sleepover? Well if you're gonna be like that-" Javi leapt up and whacked the pillow against the top of Steve's head. Steve retaliated by launching his body on top of Javi to lie on his chest, taking you with him. Sandwiched between the two play-fighting men you could do little but laugh as they wrestled each other.

Steve grinned as he caught the sensitive spot on Javi's side, causing the latter to laugh heartily at the ticklish feeling. At the look of amusement on your face, Javier turned his attention to you, an idea forming in his head.

"Oh, yeah? Think that's funny do you, baby?" Javi made eye contact with Steve, gesturing for the two of them to shift their attention to their girl. Steve caught the hint, a smirk spreading across his face.

"Guess we'll have to show you just how funny it can be, huh?" Steve simpered.

Javi rolled so that you fell from his chest onto the couch, the two men now resting in a push-up position above you.

"No, no, no- please-" you begged, but it was too late. Two sets of hands skimmed across your skin, instantly locating all of the most ticklish spots as you wailed. Your chest convulsed in laughter, the sound of it mingling with theirs as tears sprang to your eyes.

"Okay- I surrender- please, please!" you sobbed. They finally took mercy on you, stopping their attack and leaning down to lie almost on top of you.

Both boys pressed kisses to all the flesh they could reach around your face and neck, allowing you to feel their smiles against your skin.

You raised both hands and laid one on each of their heads, petting them with all the love you held.

Javi shifted to hold his face over yours, a tender look in his eyes which stole the breath from your lungs. He sent a knowing smile at you then leaned down to capture your lips, the kiss slow and deep. He stroked your cheek, slanting his mouth to meet yours even further. A whimper interrupted your kiss, a jealous Steve nuzzling your jaw with his nose. You laughed breathlessly, beckoning him towards you with a gentle "C'mere, Murph."

Steve headbutted a grumbling Javi out of the way before stealing your lips for himself, the kiss just as meaningful and passionate as the first. He whined into your mouth as you tugged lightly at his hair, his tongue flicking against your lip. His breath brushed against your mouth as he panted longingly.

"Stop hogging, asshole," Javi fussed, trying to wedge his way back to your mouth.

It was going to be a long night, but you'd never complain. You loved them, and you could feel just how much they loved you.

[imnotwolverine]

The Wolves Return - Part 3

< Part 2 | Part 4 > 

Summary: Who’s more annoying: the goat or the girl? 

Word count: 2.131 (7,5 minutes) 

Disclaimer: 16+ - Mentions of injury, Geralt being sour old sock

--

‘There’s my girl! My sweet little girl!’ 

Eskel’s voice sounded at the other side of the dormitory, where Geralt lay tucked into one of the beds. With a soft grumble the bed-ridden Witcher cracked open an eye. What had happened? Why was he here? Swiping a tired hand over his face he watched the closed door from which some footsteps were heard. What was Eskel on about? 

‘Ha! You are silly, you know that. Much like your father.’ Eskel chimed. 

Geralt frowned. Who was he talking to? 

‘Do not tell me she’s still here..’ Geralt whispered with a low growl, as he pushed his aching body away from the mattress. He felt like he had been thrown in a mangler and it took all his willpower to not let out a cry. 

Back in the day he would have recuperated easily from his wounds. But age at last, though not quite visible, seemed to have caught up with him. And the less visible scars - those deep within, were there to always remind him that his young years were long gone now. 

Eskel had gone quiet and a moment later the door opened. With powerful strides he came in, looking dangerous with his facial scars and gigantuous physique. Eskel was however tender as a butterfly, and it showed in the way he kept his favourite goat safely in his arms. Gertie. The black-and-white flecked cause of plenty of mayhem when her adoring human ‘father’ wasn’t around. 

‘And she’s right!’ Eskel laughed, kissing Gertie atop her bony head. The goat blankly stared at Geralt. 

Geralt silently rolled his eyes. ‘Eskel.’ 

‘Hi there old man.’ Eskel grinned. His weight made the floorboards of the dormitory crunch. And the light, hmm.. It must not be late in the day. Morning probably. 

‘No older than I am.’ Geralt complained as he pushed his legs over the edge of the mattress. His legs were bandaged. Properly this time. Another good note was the lack of buzzing of his head. He did not know what kind of potion the woman had given him, but it had been a bad one. Even now he could feel a faint tingle in the far ends of his fingertips. 

‘Couldn’t quit the hunt, huh?’ Eskel plopped down on the bed beside Geralt, who warily watched the goat. Gertie already air-chewed in that testy little way only she could unnerve him. After some minor incidents, Geralt had locked most of the rooms in the keep, so he wouldn’t have to chase down this darn goat as she’d sneak around eating everything and anything. 

‘She’s a little on the thin side.’ Eskel said, scratching the goat beneath her chin. The goat continued to stare at Geralt. 

Geralt shot an unamused look back at Eskel. ‘Gertie? Well..It’s her own fault. She escaped again.’ 

‘Ah, well they all come back in the end, don’t they?’ Eskel winked at Geralt, who grunted softly. Why was Eskel always so upbeat? 

‘Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that --’

‘HI!’ Another pair of feet entered the dormitory. The woman. Geralt’s face fell into an ever deeper grimace.

‘Ah f--’ 

 ‘I thought I’d bring some food!’ She said, raising a small plate with some dried meats and fruits. Eskel whooped. 

‘A woman to my heart!’ 

The woman smiled and walked towards the men. 

‘Interesting taste in women you have.’ Geralt whispered beneath his breath. 

‘Well I--’ Eskel looked up as the woman stepped in before the two Witchers. ‘Hi.’ He smiled and looked at the plate of food in her hands. ‘Great! Shall I eh…’ He eyed Geralt who looked at him with widening eyes. ‘Leave you two..?’ 

Geralt started shaking his head. 

‘No?’ 

The woman giggled. ‘Don’t worry Geralt. I don’t bite as hard as Gertie does.’ 

Before Geralt could utter a complaint Eskel and Gertie had left and Geralt was left alone with the woman. Bouncing from one foot to the other she looked around the dormitory. She was wearing some old clothes Ciri had left behind, and though the clothes didn’t look too bad, it was clear they weren’t fitting quite as they should. A little too tight in some places, a little too loose in others. 

‘Oh and the food.’ She quickly placed the plate of food next to Geralt. With long lashes she looked away as he pulled away the last of the sheets from his body. He was wearing no more but some knee length breeches and it was clear from the hot blush on her cheeks that she was very aware of how close to nudity he was. 

‘Never seen a man before?’ Geralt quirked an eyebrow. With a swift move he landed a cut of dried sausage in his mouth. Sausage. The woman’s cornflower blue eyes looked at him with slight puzzlement. 

‘You have no idea who I am, huh?’ She said, shoulders drooping. 

Geralt blinked, chewing on the sausage. ‘I’ve recovered from my amnesia well enough to..remember..’ He frowned. Thoughts bubbled faster and faster up from the dusty corners of his mind. After years of close to no adventures, it felt truly like a lifetime ago last he traveled The Trail. Corn..flower..blue. 

I’m going to be a father, Geralt. 

‘Jaskier.’ Geralt whispered, ‘Son of a..’

‘His daughter Isabella, yes.’ The woman interrupted, offering a hand in greeting. 

Geralt looked up at her hand and hesitated. Shake? Kiss on knuckles? Swat away? He studied the deep blue of her eyes that he could have recognised anywhere. She definitely had her father’s eyes. Hopefully, for her good, that was were the resemblance ended. She smiled. 

‘Goat got your tongue, Witcher?’ 

Nope. She definitely inherited more. 

‘Look I don’t know why you are here, but--’ 

‘Oh please!’ She sat down and plopped a dried piece of apple in her mouth. ‘If I wanted to hear stories about my father I’d just go to the local whorehouse. Sure enough the two of you left plenty a --’

‘Isabella.’ Her name tasted strange in his mouth. It sounded too regal for a woman who sat here dressed in something close to rags. 

‘Yes.. Geralt of Rivia?’ 

Geralt contemplated his question for a moment. With a guarded gaze he watched her look around the dusty room. 

‘Why ARE you here?’ 

‘Oh that.’ She looked back at him and smiled. ‘I eh.. Guess I need a Witcher?’

‘I don’t go out on The Trail any longer. Ask Eskel.’ 

‘Yea yea I know. And I also learned you gentlemen don’t work during the winter, so there’s that for timing. Besides, the weather truly has gone atrocious in moments. I do not know who else you expect to arrive, but they’ll surely freeze over before --’

Too much talking. Geralt growled softly and turned his head away, eyes squinting closed. ‘Woman!’ He inhaled sharply. ‘I mean..I-Isa-bella.’

She bit her lip. ‘Sorry.’ 

Geralt grunted and swiped a tired hand over his face. Why couldn’t all women be like Roach? ‘No, no I’m sorry. Argh.’ 

Isabella watched Geralt as he started chewing on a piece of cheese. His square jaw was dusted with a speckle of grey that would soon grow out in a beard. It’d probably look good on him. 

‘Are you mad at me?’ 

Geralt’s chest rumbled softly, but he did shake his head no. ‘Let’s just say you take after your father.’ He looked up and shook his head in bemusement. 

Isabella smiled. ‘Horny old bastard he was.’

‘I didn’t mean that you --’ 

‘OH!’ She gasped in shock at her own words. ‘Apologies! I didn’t mean.. I mean.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I am..neither a bastard nor am I..’ Her gaze involuntarily flew over Geralts chest. ‘horny.’ 

Geralt knew women well enough that he best keep quiet to prevent any further embarrassment on her end. She sure as hell took after her father with that mouth of hers. 

With a slightly uncomfortable tug he pulled the sheets back over his abdomen. 

‘Alright. We’ll eh..talk later.’ Isabella said, before hurrying off with a long string of near silent curse words on her lips -- something that unfortunately for her, Geralt’s Witcher senses picked up quite perfectly. 

--

Kaer Morhen smelled differently. It was not only because of the stew that was cooking, or Gertie who had been bound to a ring to keep away from the furniture she had started eating earlier this afternoon. No. There was something strangely familiar about the scent of a woman. 

As Geralt sat perched on a comfortable chair near the hearth, his fingers absentmindedly carved away on a piece of soft wood. It was a new pass-time of his and he had gotten quite skilled at it by now. Without so much as looking he could carve out small horses, goats, swords.. and if he felt adventurous: women. 

Right now the little piece of wood in his hand was only becoming slimmer. No shape there to be defined. Geralt had a difficulty to keep his mind keen now his nose continued to drift off towards the herbal sweet smell of this strange new guest in his keep. 

On the other far end of the keep’s main room sat Eskel, who was reading. Though brutish in appearance, Eskel had always been one of the more refined of the School of the Wolf. Much to Vesemir’s amusement, the late keep-holder of Kaer Morhen. Yes, those darn books. Geralt had despised them. And so father, so daughter: Ciri had taken on any chance to go out and train come rain and come shine in the courtyard. 

‘What are you up to?’ Geralt finally said, focussing his eyes on the woman that sat huddled over a table with an avalanche of books folded open. 

‘Reading.’ 

‘Hmm.’ Geralt sighed and turned a little more towards the woman. In the far back he could see Eskel look up in mild curiosity. 

Scratching her arm, the woman kept her focus on the sheets of paper before her. She seemed not just curious. She seemed nervous. That is, what Geralt had been smelling. Her sweat. A thin aromatic layer of sweat that basked this whole room in her presence. 

‘Is it exciting?’ Geralt pushed himself up with a teeth-gritted grunt and walked over.The potion the woman had given him had thankfully worn off, so he was back to the same old aches he had to live with in cold and humid weather. 

Making his way to the table, he noted she was not really reading-reading. Before her lay maps. Charts. Prints of the surrounding grounds of the keep. 

‘Planning for an escape already?’ 

Isabella finally looked up. ‘Gotta keep my options open, no?’

Geralt looked down at the map. Her finger was resting dangerously close to one of the secret paths. Paths that he thought not even Jaskier had known about. 

Isabella continued. ‘I think I came this way. The local hunter a few villages north told me far too good a tale for it to be all lies, so I set out and--’

‘What tale?’ 

Isabella looked up. ‘About a dangerous troll, who lives up here.’ She sniffled as she saw Geralt’s face sour. 

‘You know we can’t let you live if you know the path to and from the keep.’ He sat down with a pained grunt. ‘For hundreds of years only a select group of Witchers and friends have known these tracks, and we very well like to keep it so.’ With a quick swipe he retrieved the maps and started to fold them away. 

Isabella sat back and sighed. ‘Shouldn’t have shown my dad then.’ 

Geralt looked up. ‘He told you?’ 

Isabella sniffed. ‘Have you met my father? If there’s one thing he was truly blessed at, it was talking.’ She looked at Eskel who quickly reverted his eyes to his book.

‘I remember that unfortunately too vividly.’ Geralt stacked the papers together and eyed Eskel. The other Witcher made a statement of not returning his gaze. Urgh, he needed Eskel in this right now. What did he have to do with this woman?! 

‘Geralt I --’ Isabella started when she noted with a gasp that something had gone terribly wrong at the other side of the room. Geralt turned his attention to that corner of the room as well, only to note what it was; Gertie. Gertie was gone. 

Before he could say it, Eskel had already jumped up from his seat and the three of them set out to look behind the crates, open doors and where not. 

She couldn’t have gone far, right? 

Geralt slowly hopped on behind Isabella. Again, like when he met her, he felt a strange feeling come over him. And his medallion.. He reached up and noted that Isabella started turning around with a sheetpale face. 

‘Geralt..?’ 

His medallion started humming.

--

Part 4 >

--

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @hell1129-blog @agniavateira @tillthelandslide @elinesama @maddyreads14 @aletheladyinred @moonlacebeam​ @kebabgirl67

[glassworkspiderlilies]

come, come, fly into my palm, & collapse

Genshin Impact | Lumine & Albedo | AO3  Summary: Lumine and Albedo, ft. Paimon—a blizzard is avoided; a stew, an orange, and a night are shared. Observations are made, studies are conducted, some results are obtained Notes: Albedo grew on me FAST and i am filled with so much softness and tenderness for him....i care him so much.... 

He doesn’t realize that a blizzard has truly whipped up outside until the Traveler breaks through the snowdrift accumulated at the entrance to his camp, brushing off the white crystals and stamping her feet free of the snow.

“Albedo!” Paimon greets as she flies past him, practically careening directly into the fire, “Boy are we glad to see you! We almost got buried out there.”

“Hello,” Albedo greets, blinking soporifically. He’d been so focused on compiling his research that he doesn’t know what time it is at all, and with the snowstorm darkening everything further, he can no longer tell. “You were looking for me?”

In response, Lumine holds out her hand, and the strap of a bag materializes within it, weighing her hand down as the bag itself drops. Albedo recognizes its worn make, and understands why she is here, though not quite how the situation in particular came to be.

“My materials,” Albedo identifies, taking the hefty bag, “Thank you. How did you come to be the one delivering it? Timaeus should have been on his way back.”

“About that,” Paimon says, floating back up now that she is a bit more thawed out, “It looks like the Knights of Favonius ended up having some trouble, so there was suddenly a large request for potions….so Timaeus needs a bit more time before he comes back! But Lumine and I were on our way here anyway, so we brought your precious materials, too!”

“Ah, I see,” Albedo says, inclining his head in acknowledgement, though he is seeking more information and glances at the Traveler.

“A slime infestation,” Lumine supplies, moving towards the fire herself now that her task is done, “But nothing the knights cannot handle.”

“Ah, but better to be prepared, and hence the potions. I agree,” Albedo catches on, nodding, then glances outside. “I hadn’t realized it was coming down so hard. It is remarkable that you managed to find your way.”

Lumine smiles faintly.

“One becomes good at finding things when the conditions are unforgiving. You won’t kick us out, will you?” she asks, tilting her head, and his eyes widen despite knowing she is joking.

“Of course not. That would be more than cold of me,” he says, aghast even at the possibility, and her eyes crinkle.

“Great! We’ll even let you put us to work, as thanks!” Paimon exclaims, clapping her hands, and though Lumine gives the spirit a look that so clearly says but I’d be the one doing the actual work, nor does she decline.

His own eyes crinkle at that.

“No need,” he says, patting the papers on his table, “…For now, anyway. Please, make yourself comfortable. I’m sure you’ve had…a harrowing journey to get here in this storm.”

“If you say so! Don’t need to tell us twice,” Paimon cheers, floating back to the fire.

“Thank you, Albedo,” Lumine says as she sheds her coat.

“Certainly,” he replies, and this time, when she smiles at him, he smiles back.

.

It is comfortable being with the Traveler, more comfortable than he could initially tell when they wandered all over the Dragonspine to conduct experiments. She’d had something to gain, then (though some of it was at Paimon’s behest, and it seemed mostly like she was simply going along with both his and her own companion’s whims) but now, she is here by her own will.

Another couple hours passes before he remembers that she is here. While he’s been quite absorbed in his work, Lumine has been quiet too, and he doesn’t even remember hearing Paimon. He looks around, blinking blearily, then closes his eyes briefly and looks around again to make sure he hasn’t suddenly moved locations.

Everything…is organized. Books are back on their shelves, beakers and test tubes cleaned and lined back up on their racks, scattered ingredients returned to their jars, the tables wiped down. His paints and sketches have been untouched, as well as other research that he had left lying out, and he is grateful for that. It must not have been an easy undertaking, cleaning everything up despite the small space, but she did it admirably anyway.

Still—where is the young woman herself? He doesn’t see her at all, though surely she did not wander back out into the blizzard.

Albedo stretches, his joints popping, and walks around to the other side of the camp—finding her sitting behind the table with his distillery, back against the wood, a book propped open on her lap. She looks up at him when he appears, putting up a hand in greeting, and he gives a half-smile at how comfortable she looks.

“My gratitude, for cleaning up,” he says with true appreciation, and she smiles. He looks around again, not seeing Paimon at all. “Where is your floating companion?”

“Hmmm…” Lumine hums, considering how to answer this question. “Sleeping, perhaps? I suspect she will appear again when there is food.”

“Did someone say food?”

Paimon materializes with a twirl, her eyes twinkling.

“Oooh, can you make black-back perch stew, pleeeeease? It’s perfect for this climate, and Paimon is tired of goulash!”

Albedo puts a hand to his chin, understanding, now, why such a question might have been difficult to answer. Lumine’s floating friend is quite the mystery, and Albedo wants so dearly to study the spirit. But no; they are not close enough for him to ask such a thing, and he fears the rejection he will receive were he to ask now.

“Your thoughts?” Lumine asks, and Albedo blinks again.

“On black-back perch stew? I must confess, it’s a dish I’ve only had once. But I should like to eat it again, I think. It would be rather delightful in this climate.”

“Yay! It’s a consensus! C’mon, Lumine, get cooking!” Paimon exclaims, hovering excitedly and clapping her hands.

The Traveler puts her book aside, standing and stretching too before making her way over to the fire. Albedo follows, curious, suddenly, about her methods of preparation and cooking. Last time he had not watched when he requested a Sunshine Sprat, merely consumed the (very tasty) contents.

Lumine glances at him, questioning, but she seems to know the answer already—that he wants to observe—and holds out her hand in front of her. Another bag shimmers into existence—her own this time, from which she begins removing carefully packaged ingredients. Fish filets, Jueyun chilis, violetgrass…

Another thing that he finds fascinating and would like to study—this ability of hers. It is, seemingly, similar to Paimon’s ability, or perhaps even related. Very belatedly, he realizes that he should have offered to help her cook, though it seems that she is perfectly comfortable taking on the duty alone. Paimon hovers dangerously close even though nothing has been put together yet, and Albedo can guess that on the two’s travels, Lumine is primarily in charge when food must be made.

“Do you require assistance?” he asks anyway despite the timing, as she is seasoning the fish.

Lumine blinks at him, and gestures to the stalks of violetgrass.

“If you’d like something to do, you can turn the flowers to powder,” she says, and Albedo nods, the task perfectly suited to him.

“Might I keep a stalk or two for an experiment?” he asks as he walks back to his table, and Lumine nods her agreement.

“Lumine….Paimon is hungry now….Fisherman’s Toast…” the spirit laments, floating down until she sits next to the Traveler.

“Hmmm…then let’s make some chicken and mushroom skewers, too,” Lumine says decisively, and Paimon perks up extra at that, shooting up again.

“Paimon wants five!” she exclaims, and Lumine sets to preparing said food again without complaint.

Fascinating, Albedo thinks, before turning to his mortar and pestle. Both are small people, but their capacity for consumption is…large. Albedo himself dislikes food in large quantities, especially meat, but such meals that he’s experienced in the past seem like they would be no challenge for the Traveler and her floating companion.

It might be nice to share an extravagant meal with them, he thinks, and see the extent of their capabilities in person. Perhaps, if he must attend a conference again where food is often ordered in advance, he could bring Lumine and Paimon along so that his portion didn’t go to waste…

“Albedo! Want one?” Paimon asks, floating over with a skewer.

He looks over, the delicious scent of perfectly cooked chicken and mushrooms tickling his nose. He is hesitant to be eating something right before a meal, but the spirit looks so proud and expectant.

“Thank you,” he says, taking it from her hands, and gingerly slides off the topmost piece of meat with his teeth.

With his free hand, he takes the mortar with the now-powdered violetgrass in it, bringing back over to the cooking fire and setting it near Lumine’s bag for when she needs it. All is quiet for a while, save for the usual bubbling noises of Albedo’s alchemical device and the cooking pot. Paimon eats her skewers and toast with big eyes on the stew, and Lumine stirs the pot patiently as she chews on her own skewer.

Albedo watches it all idly, lulled into a sense of calm as he finishes his last piece of mushroom, declining another skewer in favor of the stew.  

Eventually, Lumine dips a regular spoon into the pot and tastes the broth, her expression unreadable. She takes another spoon and dips it in again, coming out with a larger amount this time. She blows on it for a bit before offering it to Paimon, who blows twice more before shoving the whole thing into her mouth.

“It’s soooooo good!” she exclaims, eyes twinkling, “Yes! Yes! C’mon Lumine, it’s ready, let’s eat!”

Lumine smiles, taking the powdered violetgrass and sprinkling it over the top before doling out the finished stew. She serves Albedo first, with a normal amount, while her own portions and Paimon’s are huge. He suspects they’ll empty the pot just fine.

It’s an excellent stew.

He’d been worried about the spice, truth be told, but the amount if just enough to give the dish heat and warm the body through without being overpowering at all. The fish is so tender and juicy that he finds himself eating eagerly, and finishing his bowl quickly.

Lumine, already spooning more into her own bowl, offers him a full ladle, and he hesitates. He does want more, but…he really does hate overeating, as it always ruins the experience even if he had enjoyed the food initially.

She cocks her head a little, then tilts the ladle until half of it flows back into the pot, and offers the remainder again.

Albedo makes a sheepish expression, and holds out his bowl. Her eyes crinkle, and she pours the half-portion in.

He’s quite full, after the second helping, but pleasantly so. He’s certainly drowsy now, though he's insistent on helping in the clean-up, as she had done everything else. Paimon flops at Lumine's side, already half-asleep, while Albedo and Lumine rinse out the pot and utensils with melted snow. The clink of metal and wood as they do so is pleasant, and between the two of them, the task is completed quickly. It's almost a shame, somehow. It is pleasant to work alongside her, even for something to simple. 

“Back to research so soon?” she asks, when they set the pot back over the fire full of snow to melt down for future use.

Albedo considers.

“A break is in order, perhaps,” he allows, glancing over at his easel, though he frowns when he looks outside again. 

The blizzard is unrelenting, and though he could use some alchemical items to brave it, it is also...not quite worth the trouble it would be to paint in such conditions. 

A novel, then. Lumine watches as he picks one out from the shelf.

“Reading more after all that research you were doing?” Paimon asks drowsily, turning over to her side to face him, “Don't your eyes and brain hurt?” 

“Fortunately, I have very good eyes,” Albedo says.

“And a very good brain?” 

“Hmm...well, people call me a genius, but I don't think I am any such thing. But I suppose I can concede to having a good brain. We all do.” 

Lumine looks at Paimon with her eyebrow raised, who gasps in affront, though she is still too lethargic to float.

“Hey! Why are you looking at Paimon like that?!” she says, and Lumine pats her companion's stomach gently.

“I'm just thinking that Paimon has the very best brain,” Lumine says, very seriously, and Paimon puffs up a little.

“Hehe...well, that's okay, then. Even if your tone is suspicious!” 

Albedo meets Lumine's eyes, then looks away quickly as laughter bubbles in his throat. 

How odd. He does not laugh often; the sensation is warm and ticklish. He clears his throat as quietly as he can before taking the book of the shelf, and considers where to read it. 

Lumine goes back over to the spot she was at earlier, behind the table with his apparatus, and waves him over. She pats the spot beside her when he approaches, and he blinks before settling down beside her, the two of them sitting close but not quite touching. Paimon remains by the cooking fire, now dozing entirely. 

And so he and Lumine read together. He's not sure how much time passes before he realizes that he's being watched, and that Lumine is the one doing so. He ignores this—or rather, lets it happen for a while, but after a bit more time passes, a sharp, tangy scent suddenly permeates the air. He does turn at that, and is somewhat startled to see in Lumine’s hands an orange. It’s an uncommon fruit in Mondstadt, but considering her recent travels to Liyue, whose harbor never stops bustling with trade, it should not be so surprising. He watches closely as she continues to dig her fingers into and underneath the thick rind and peel the skin away, the citrusy scent growing more powerful as she does so. Carefully, she picks away the majority of the white pith before splitting the fruit down the middle, and holds one half out to him.

“…Thank you,” he says, staring at it for a moment before taking it. “A snack, so soon?”

“It’s refreshing,” she says, with a slight shrug, “And it helps digestion.”

“Hmmm.”

He tears a segment off with his teeth, the juices bursting sweet and summery on his tongue. He feels her watching again, and Albedo suspects that this is part of…something. But he watches her out of the corner of his eye too, fascinated by the way she peels each segment from the middle delicately with her fingers.

When they finally meet eyes, she continues to stare unabashedly, smiling a little when he turns to face her completely. 

“Are you conducting research?” he asks, unable to equate the weight of her gaze with anything else.

“I am,” she replies. 

“Oh? And are you obtaining results?” 

“I am,” she says again.

He pauses, considering whether or not to continue the game and ask for the results of said investigation. In the meantime, she tosses the orange peel into the fire, a pleasant aroma filling the space as it wrinkles in the heat.  

“I hope the returns are favorable, then,” he says instead.

“They are,” Lumine replies, and she smiles at him, full and bright.

Inexplicably, he feels himself flush. 

“Oh,” he mutters, turning away, confused at his own involuntary response. 

“Very favorable indeed,” Lumine says, and turns back to her book, seeming pleased. 

.

He returns to his own research soon after, only a little bit attempting to escape his embarrassment. A new feeling too, this self-consciousness. He has had many, many eyes on him, much attention turned on him for his alchemical skill. And, apparently, his looks as well. Yet he has never given another thought about it; it has never bothered nor interested him.

He cannot quite say he is bothered or interested now. But this...awareness...is quite new, different. 

Nevertheless. He has work to do, though the suspects that he will not have much time left in the day to do so. Time is harder to measure on the Dragonspine, especially with the storm, but it is important that he maintain at least the semblance of a schedule so as not to disrupt the workflow involving other people. 

The next time he comes back into the world from his research, he sees that Lumine has already set up a rather large sleeping bag. Paimon has also been moved, and she continues to sleep on Lumine’s right, the content so evident on the child's face that Albedo cannot help but be amused. 

When Lumine notices him looking, she once more pats the empty space to her left. 

He stares at her this time, and she tilts her head, considering what it is she wants to say, and Albedo wonders just what the combination of words is going to be. 

“Care for another study?” she asks, and Albedo raises an eyebrow. 

“You're conducting another experiment?” 

“Yes. Shall I call it a study in warmth?” 

Albedo crosses his arms, furrowing his brows at this rudimentary implied thesis.

“It is evident that two people sharing a space will produce greater heat than one alone,” he says, and Lumine nods sagely.

“Indeed. But that is not the kind of warmth I'm studying.”

He blinks at her, somewhat unsure of her meaning. He opens his mouth, closes it again. 

“So,” she says, smiling a little at his speechlessness. “Will you help me derive results, or not?”

“I...will,” he says, slowly, curious as to what exactly she is trying to do despite himself. 

Sleeping beside someone does not deter him. He and Klee have often fallen asleep together. He and Sucrose have slept in their lab before as well. In the Dragonspine, when Timaeus is here for an extended stay, they sleep back to back too. One cannot forgo extra warmth in such a bitterly cold area. While there are some alchemical adjustments that Albedo has made to his camp so that he can conduct his experiments in peace without having to worry about freezing to death, he does have to be careful with his resources here, as it is much more difficult to transport or to request materials to be transported for him. 

So he does not feel odd when he slides into place beside Lumine, who throws an additional quilt (a gift from someone, perhaps?) atop them. They lie down and stare at each other, face to face, for a while before Albedo turns to his side. After a moment, he feels Lumine do the same, her back pressed against his. 

“...Is there a reason behind this experiment in particular?” he asks.

“I dislike sleeping alone,” Lumine replies easily, as if she were prepared to answer this question. “It doesn't...feel right.”

He remembers, now, that she had been cruelly separated from her brother, whom she traveled her whole life with. He supposes this must also be why Paimon, despite being able to fold herself into some other space, is out and about much of the time. 

“I see,” is all he says.

“And you?”

“I suppose...I have never quite thought about it. Klee will come to my room, sometimes. And sometimes I will stay with her in hers. I sleep when I need to. If I cannot, I work. I suppose I have not considered being lonely in sleep.”

“And otherwise?”

“Hm?”

“Have you considered loneliness, otherwise?”

He can feel that she has turned again, facing his back now. After a moment, he turns, too. 

“As I said. Dispelling it is not essential for life. But it does not hurt.” 

“And has it hurt before, oh Kreideprinz?”

He is not sure he likes to hear that title from her, no matter how softly she says it.  

“I do not always notice until I am without it,” he admits after a while. 

...Ah.

He blinks in realization. Lumine notices, and her lips curl up into a little smile.

“I’m glad,” she says, not to his words but what his expression reveals.

He pauses.

“Why….should you be glad?”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Are you so quick to take back our friendship?”

“Oh, no,” he says frowning a little at the thought of losing her regard as such, “But even as friends…there are greater things to occupy your mind, yes? Especially for you. To be concerned for my loneliness takes up unnecessary space in your mind that would be better spent on more important matters.”

She blinks at him.

“Ah, but important by your standard and not mine, isn’t it?”

He pauses.

“Perhaps. But does it change nothing if I say you need not be concerned for me?”

Her turn to pause.

“I suppose it could change a little. But by that logic, if I say that you need not be so…academically interested in me, does that reduce anything?”

“Ah, but you have questions about yourself that you cannot answer, and so even you are not uninterested in yourself. So how will you be able to convince me that there is nothing of interest about you?”

“Are you so uninterested in your own self, then?”

“Questions that I used to have have been answered. Perhaps there are new things here and there to discover. But I no longer find myself an interesting subject of study.”

She stares at him for a moment, not speaking, then her eyes grow ever so slightly amused.

“I think,” she begins, considering her words again, “I should like to give you a new question about yourself to ponder.”

He blinks, waiting for the said question, but it does not come. Instead, she yawns.

“It’s gotten even later,” she murmurs, eyes half-lidded, “You, Sir Albedo, are an unexpectedly noisy bed partner.”

He blinks at the wording, though her tone is light.

“My apologies, I got carried away,” he says, and she smiles a little at that.

“Do you dream, Albedo?” she asks, after a few heartbeats, her voice growing quieter.

“…Not often, no,” he replies.

“Then you’ll have to forgive me for mine,” she says, turning to the other side and drawing Paimon closer, “Wake me, if I…if it gets to be too much.”

The end of the conversation is clear, though he wishes to ask what she means. And yet, he thinks he may understand.

By her breathing, he knows that it takes her a while longer to fall asleep. He thinks about their backs pressed together, the slight difference he feels in this contact compared to other times he has done such a thing.  

When her breathing slows, Albedo finally closes his eyes, and rests.

.

He is a light sleeper.

Albedo wakes to a distressed murmur, and he half-rises before he realizes it is coming from Lumine.

“Wait!” she cries, “Aether…don’t go!”

She reaches out a desperate hand, and reflexively, he grabs it. The contact seems to ground her, and though she lets out another strangled sob, she quiets.

Albedo stares. Again, he is not so unfamiliar with this type of thing; Klee has had nightmares before too, and takes comfort in his presence those nights. But the feeling is different now, and he is not so sure that he should be…allowed…to do this.

Another soft noise, and he looks over to see Paimon sitting up, peeking at him from Lumine’s other side.

“Keep holding her hand?” Paimon requests, as she closes the small gap that has formed between her and Lumine throughout the night, snuggling close.

“Alright,” Albedo says, and lies back down.

After a moment, he touches his forehead to the top of Lumine’s head.

“Don’t go,” Lumine whispers again.

Albedo does not answer her; he cannot promise her that, and nor is he the one meant to be answering. But he closes his eyes and continues to hold her hand, and thinks about the warmth generated between them.

.

Albedo wakes before her; he does not need as much sleep as many others, and quietly slides himself out of the sleeping back to get his day started. The blizzard has quieted overnight, and he is glad that he will be able to go back out into the field with some proper preparations.  

He begins making breakfast, adjusting the setup over the fire to accommodate a frying pan for pancakes. When he flips the first one over, he can hear Paimon floating towards him already. There’s a slight initial sound associated with it, and he wonders about the source—and reason for it. Another thing to research, if he gets permission one day.

“Pancakes!” Paimon exclaims, her tone still a little sleepy. “Paimon wants…hmm…fifteen!”

Albedo glances at the bowl of batter, calculating the portions.

“Might you have more ingredients in Lumine’s bag?”

“Sure do! Hold on a sec.”

He watches as Paimon floats back over to the still-sleeping Traveler, patting her cheeks a little.

“Lumine! Lumi, bag!”

The girl in question mumbles, holding up her hand. Paimon catches the bag as it materializes, and carries it over to Albedo.

“Here! Careful, though. Even Paimon doesn’t know everything that’s in it!”

Questions, questions, questions abound. The bag too seems to follow the odd principles of the Traveler and her companion, in that it carries far more than it looks like it should. Or is it Lumine’s power, or perhaps a combination of hers and Paimon’s, that allows for the bag to do so?

He glances at Paimon, considering asking, but decides against it, as he does not think she will be able to answer.

Nevertheless, pancakes. He quadruples his usual recipe, and by the time he is done flipping and Paimon has eaten five with copious amounts of honey and berries (procured once more from the Traveler’s mysterious bag), Lumine has gotten up, yawning.

“Good morning,” she greets drowsily, seating herself beside the fire.

“You slept hard this time!” Paimon says, “That’s good. You should sleep more.”

“Mmm…” Lumine murmurs absentmindedly, then blinks as she realizes what her companion has said.

She turns to Albedo, expression vaguely surprised, her mouth open to say something; he blinks at her unassumingly, and after a moment, she forgoes asking. She looks at the tall stack of pancakes instead.

“Have we cleaned out your supplies?” she asks, and Albedo shakes his head.

“Paimon procured your bag from you while you were still half-asleep; I may have cleaned out yours.”

“Standard occurrence, when one must feed Paimon,” Lumine says, and Paimon protests through a mouthful of pancake. “Fine. And myself,” Lumine chuckles, and Albedo hands her a plate of breakfast. “Oh, thank you. Is there anything else in there that you need?”

As it turns out, he does need more butterfly wings, horsetails, and flaming flower stamens. She insists on giving them to him, saying that she has too many of them right now anyway.

“You should really stop picking up everything you come across,” Paimon chides.

“But you never know when they’ll be needed,” Lumine counters sagely. “Like now, to give to someone.”

Paimon cannot contest that, and relents. Albedo takes the materials gratefully.

The group cleans up and packs up after breakfast; with the storm no longer raging, Albedo wants to make use of the daylight for field research, and Lumine and Paimon must be on their way too. There’s a domain at the summit they want to reach before night falls. They spend the next half-hour or so at Albedo’s crafting table, and he watches with approval as they make a plethora of potions and to aid them on their travels.  

After they are all appropriately bundled up, he walks with them partway.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Lumine says at their parting point, Paimon echoing her sentiments.

“It was a pleasure,” he says, “Thank you for cooking, as well. And…I hope your study had a positive outcome.”

Her eyes crinkle.

“There were some interesting results,” she says, “And more questions, perhaps. But such is the nature of research, isn’t it? The answer to the bigger question will reveal itself eventually.”

Albedo tilts his head, wondering about the tone of her voice, holding his hand to his chin in thought.

“A bigger question?” he queries, “So your…study in warmth was part of a more complex equation?”

She looks both sheepish and a little distant at that, hesitating a bit before speaking.

“…Call it a study in happiness, if you will.”

“…Are you not happy?” he asks, surprised.

“Ah, that is not what I said.”

Albedo stares, scrutinizing her expression, and she raises an eyebrow, scrutinizing him in turn. After a moment, she uses her foot to dig a small trench in the snow, as if she is deliberating about whether or not to actually answer him.

“My brother and I traveled together, just the two of us, for a very long time. I have never been without him until now,” she begins, her voice eerily flat, “I dream of him often; I dream of chasing him, unable to catch up no matter what I do, and him telling me that I’ve come too late. That I could be happy without him was inconceivable. And yet, I’ve managed to find joy during our time apart, too. So—was I…were we truly happy, then? Even if happiness is many things…even if it can exist independently of one another…that frightens me. So now…when we meet again, can we be happy together the same way we were before?”

Albedo is silent. She continues.

“So I suppose I am searching for the truth behind happiness. For many people, it seems to begin with what or where they consider home. Aether and I…our home…it has been lost for a long time. And now…?”

“…And now?” Albedo prompts, when she trails off for too long, her gaze faraway.

She blinks, and focuses on him again, her tone blasé.

“A home could be many things, too. It could be a country, or a city. Or a cave.” She pauses. “Or the center of someone’s palm.”

Albedo blinks, feeling…strange. Something in the conversation has turned, and his skin prickles. Paimon, who had been listening in rare silence having been unable to keep up with the conversation, looks between the two of them curiously.

“So…what is a home, and what is happiness? Perhaps you will beat me to such an answer, in your search for the truth of this world,” Lumine finishes, offering him a small smile.

He closes his mouth that he hasn’t realized fell open a little.

“I…will be sure to let you know, if I do,” he replies, uncertainly.

“I’ll visit you again sometime,” she says, waving as she half-turns away, “Or if you see me, please say hello.”

“I…will,” he replies, holding up his own hand in goodbye.

“Bye, Albedo!” Paimon exclaims, seeming relieved that the difficult topics have passed, and the two are off.

Albedo watches them go, only putting his hand down when they disappear into the distance. He stares at his hand for a while, and as he does, a crystalfly flutters into his palm.

Gently, he closes his fingers around it, and transforms it into a bird. The creature, baffled at the change, flutters its wings in rapid, confused panic.

He turns it back into a crystalfly hastily, realizing that such a bird would not be able to survive in this frigid climate. It flies off after that, its path a little off-kilter.

He watches it go, realizing belatedly that his heart too beats a different rhythm.  

[phytocondria]

Regency Fluff

So... me and a couple friends were gushing about discussing a wonderful Recency AU and @themerrypanda suggested a Regency Era AU prompt. "Mayor Lewis is holding an early summer ball at his residence. Everyone is invited and the valley is very excited." Word Count: 1,275 Summary: The first two dances of a ball are quite significant, but not more than friendship. “I think Mr. Kent, has been looking a great deal at our little corner since his arrival.” For as meek and quiet as everyone accused the young redhead of being, there was nothing less than mischief and merrymaking at Maru’s expense in Miss Penny’s words. Maru flushed and turned away from where her friend was peering, swallowing down both butterflies and a heavy lump in her throat.

“Perhaps, he’s finally realized the mistakes he’s made against someone so angelic.” Maru hadn’t meant to whisper back so sternly. Miss Honeyfield looked away from where the young gentleman was playing cards with his friends and back to her friend, startled by Maru’s clear barbs against him.

“Maru...” Penny finally whispered back, so tender and sweet, Maru’s heart bled in her chest. She knew what her friend would say, Penny was too good and Marus too close not to know. Maru stood up from where they had been sitting and moved towards the refreshments. Penny’s mother, Mrs. Pamela Honeyfield always seemed to make it her business to test any drinks the town enjoyed, and Maru was thankful her most common amendment was to fortify the punch. Maru let the alcoholic warmth spread into her limbs. She had half a glass down before Penny joined her again, careful not to bring anyone else's attention onto them as they pretended to take a tart from the table of snacks before supper.

Penny was always so much better at that than Maru. She was graceful and kind and feminine where Maru was “spirited” and “enthusiastic”, which ultimately meant she was clumsy, blathering on on odd topics when she got nervous, but how was she expected to be a proper lady in such a tiny hampshire when she had a “spirited” mother and a father who encouraged her interest in “unladylike” subjects? Maru hadn’t meant to snap at her friend, but the mistake had been made and still, Penny was more benevolent than Yoba herself, because she let her friend continue to drink her punch while slipping her hand into the empty hand and held onto it like when they were little girls. Yoba, Maru wished the punch could dull her mind enough to quiet the constant buzz of thoughts.

For all Maru’s cleverness, she’d trade it all… maybe half… okay a third of her wits to have half the sense as her friend needed to remain quiet. Penny let the cup empty and Maru to settle down before offering her a biscuit. Maru noticed one with strawberry jam and relented. “It’s been years now Maru.” Penny started, voice soft enough even Mr Smith, barely a meter away picking at the exorbitant spread Lewis had prepared, wouldn’t be able to overhear. “A childhood fancy, we both grew out of before even coming out into society.”

Now that the biscuit had been swallowed, Maru’s lip fell tightly between teeth as she kept the rest of her turbulent mind in check. She waited for Mr. Smith to walk away with his mince pies and cold meats before gathering the courage to speak up again.“I know” Maru tested the power of her will into forcing her words to behave for once. “Penny, you’re as dear to me as my own mother and father, dearer than any sister I could have ever had, or ever will have.“ Now that she’d begun, the floodgates had begun and Penny did her best to lead them into some quiet corner as Maru continued her admonshing. ”Samson Kent is a scoundrel who treated my friend with such absolute injustice, he should be sent into the mines to battle whatever creatures dwell there until Yoba sees fit, because if it were left to you, you’d forgive him this instant and-”

“Maru, I was the one to end it.” Penny interrupted so calmly as to completely subdue Maru’s fever. She stared dumbstruck as the older girl continued. “We were children, him especially, and while it was… flattering, once my father’s home was entailed away, I- “ Penny paused, her eyes full of sorrow, but smiled with the grace of an angel. “All I’ve ever wanted was peace, adventures contained in books I can set aside. He was good then, but I could never stand to let him join his father in the army, and I’m grateful he didn’t. So,” she continued, the delicate chin raised in determination and sporting humor returning to her countenance.”You must promise your oldest friend whom you love more than a sister, if Mr. Samson Kent asks you to dance, you will accept and have a merry time, is that clear?”

Maru chuckled wetly, dabbing the beginnings of tears from her eyes as she smiled back. “Only if you promise, even if it’s the faintest nettle of a past displeasure at seeing us, tell me,” Maru begged. At the slightest word, Maru would set herself to marry the doctor who viewed her more like the daughter he never had the opportunity to have with his late wife or better yet, become an old maid and never dance with anyone past this day. Her father would be sure to agree to the latter with ease.

“I give you my word, Miss Maru Oakly, but do not think just because I am your senior, I will not manage a comfortable, little home for myself.” Penny bristled with a lively, playfulness few knew lived within the quiet school teacher of Pelican Town.

“Never” Maru laughed along with their friend, an easy air falling between them, until a sudden fuss brought their attentions back to the front of the Mayoral home.

“It looks as if the Governor and his niece have finally arrived.” Penny murmured as she craned her neck over the crowd. “Should we head over to be introduced?”

“Ah, Miss Oakly, Miss Honeyfield” Almost as soon as the two began to move forward, a voice intreated them for their pause from a few feet to the side. “Might I escort you two into the entryway?” the very same young man with wheat coloured hair and fair eyes the ladies had been discussing probed. Maru glanced at the other lady, who was all gentle smiles but gave her hand a squeeze of reassurance before speaking up.

“That would be most agreeable Mr. Kent.” she assured, before moving to take his left arm. The complete lack of awkwardness between the two was almost enough to fully reassure Maru and quiet the what ifs. Maru took his right arm when it was offered, and her thoughts began to buzz into non language as a fluttery excitement bubbled up at his closeness.

Even when each lady had been settled within their expected place in the line to greet the newcomers, Samson stayed close to Maru. After they had all made their hellos, an unspoken awkward nervousness kept them close, before his own restlessness finally got the best of him and he turned to her with flushed cheeks and hopeful smile. “I was hoping... If you don’t already have a partner of course… Umm, might I please request your hand for the first two dances?” he stumbled at the final bit, rushing to say it before he lost his nerve.

“Yes” The word surprised them both, each releasing an anxious sigh that quickly shifted to a relieved chuckle.”I may not be the best dance partner though.” she mumbled, cheeks aflame.

“I could never want for a better one.” He offered, his face as red as hers felt. He was wrong of course, Maru was ill practiced for dancing, but he hardly seemed to mind, asking to dance with her again more than once that night.

[ninbayphua-moyan]

Where The Harvest Moon Is Brightest

Sweat trickled down my back as I lugged my suitcase behind me along the five-foot ways of Penang. A sense of Saturday afternoon languidness hangs in the balmy air like a soft, heavy blanket, lulling you to sleep. A gentle breeze fleets through the walkway, pleasantly cool against the slight stickiness of my skin. I paused and took a deep breath, head tilted back with eyes closed, listening to the faint rustling of palm leaves. The air was steeped with the fresh, earthy petrichor of a recent shower, and tinged with undertones of the alluringly sweet scent of frangipanis.

          Loud giggles. Shrieks of laughter. Opening my eyes, I turned towards the sound and saw a group of children playing a game of ‘The Eagle Catches The Chicks’ on the street. They dodged and ran with unabashedly childish grins plastered onto their mud smeared faces, eyes twinkling with youthful glee and carelessness. I smiled. It wasn’t that long ago when I too was a little rascal playing on these very streets without a care in the world. I remember the days when the neighbourhood kids and I would play in the streets until our mothers called us in for dinner. Oh, the adventures we had! Climbing up trees; playing in the rain; racing the roti man down the street as he rides by on his bicycle. Ah yes……the roti man……how we used to wait for him to make his rounds each evening after school……The tinkling sound of the metal cup-like object being struck with an iron rod signalling his arrival…our short legs running, shouting ‘roti!’ until he stopped by the side of the road…the chaos that ensues as we crowded around him like hungry chicks waiting to be fed, coins held tight in our sweaty little palms……

          Then, I heard it. The familiar ‘Ting! Ting! Ting!’ of the roti man echoing down the street, as if summoned by my reminiscence of it. The children had heard it too. They ran towards the roti man shouting ‘roti!’, their game abandoned without a second thought. Instinctively, I started running as well, fumbling around my pockets looking for loose change to pay for the bread. I joined the little gathering crowd just as the roti man was getting off his bicycle. A tantalising aroma of freshly baked breads and buns wafted out the minute he undid the catch on the little glass framed doors of the meat-safe seated behind his bike. I couldn’t help but groan internally at the heavenly sight and smell. I watched as he slathered the savoury margarine and rich kaya onto thick slices of roti benggali, mouth watering uncontrollably. After a few minutes, he handed me a big bag of the bread to me and I dropped the money into his outstretched palm. He flashed me a quick grin before returning his attention to the next customer.

          Making my way back to the five-foot way, I stuck my hand into the plastic bag and brought out a piece of warm roti banggali. Biting into the bread, I felt my tongue melting. The crispy, golden crust and soft white crumb of the bread served as a fragrant base, a sacred chapel where the buttery saltiness of the margarine and the rich, creamy sweetness of the kaya sang, each in their unique tune before harmonizing into a heavenly choir and melding into one savoury mouthful of bread. Before I knew it, I had already finished a third of what I’d bought. Realising that I wouldn’t have any left by the time I reached my destination if I continued eating, I quickly knotted up the bag and hurried along.

          Ten minutes later, I came to a stop in front of a shophouse at the end of the five-foot way. A large ebony plaque hung regally above the doorway, my family name engraved upon it in golden Chinese characters. U-shaped terracotta tiles covered the roof and three full length louvred windows lined the upper floor of the two-story building. The pillars were adorned with painted, three-dimensional decorative plaster of beautifully crafted flowers. Majestic peonies and tender lotuses blooming, their elaborate and delicate carved petals unfurling elegantly. Majolica tiles lined the dado façade on the lower quarter of the walls, adding yet another splash of colour to the otherwise, dull and plain exterior. The carved timber ventilated doors stood wide open, each of its panel depicting legendary creatures of ancient Chinese folklore. The exquisitely detailed carvings of phoenixes never ceased to amaze me, even after all this time. Perching nobly on golden branches, their wings were spread wide as if to take off at any second as I gazed, entranced. Then, as the late afternoon sun shines upon their gilded bodies, it was as if those carved mystical beauties were suddenly brought to life. Their once dull sheen now aglow in brilliant shades of scarlet, orange and gold, almost as if they would burst into flames at any moment, just like in the myths of old, and be reborn from the ashes.

          The sound of fluttering wings and clear melodic chirruping snapped me out of my daze. Looking up, I saw a family of swallows roosting in their nest at the corner of the roof. Ah…it was that time of the year again wasn’t it…the swallows always left the nest as the harvest moon approached. I remember how excited I used to get when they came to roost in the spring and how sad I would be when they’d left as autumn drew near. A-Poh[1] would always pick the nest once the swallows had flown, clean it and turn it into a bowl bird nest soup. She always told me it was good for the skin as well as health but I was never sure how true these claims were.

          Peeking my head through the door, I announced my arrival home out of sheer force of habit. There was a loud clanging and scuffling from the kitchen as I heard a delighted shout. I had barely stepped across the threshold into the house before I was pulled into a tight bear hug by A-Poh, immediately enveloped by the familiar scent of incense and rice powder. She was strong despite her age and sometimes I couldn’t help but wonder if all her stories about bird nest soup were true. Pulling out of the hug, she gave me a quick look over and pinched my cheeks, complaining that I’ve lost weight again even though I hadn’t. I tried protesting but she shushed me with a fond pat on the cheeks and shouted for A-Gong[2] who instantly came wobbling out of the ground floor bedroom, a large toothless grin on his wrinkled face. He wrapped me into a warm hug whilst A-Poh hurried off into the kitchen, determined to stuff me up with food before anyone could stop her. I shook my head in resignation whilst A-Gong just laughed and ruffled my hair, amused.

          Pouring some pu-erh tea into two clay teacups, A-Gong motioned for me to sit down, asking about my time abroad. As we sipped on the earthy fragrance of the pu-erh, I told him about my time in the UK; about its miserably wet weather; its tasteless food; its strange customs; and how much I had missed home whilst I was away. Upon hearing that comment, he chuckled heartily, a knowing look in his eyes. He too had left the comforts at home at a young age, sailing the seas to unknown lands to avoid the war. When I asked if he ever missed Hainan and his childhood home, he would always smile a little wistfully but would then shake his head saying home for him was where my A-Poh, a content look upon his wisen face. Even after all this time, they were still as in love with one another as they were back then, just like the butterfly lovers from Chinese folklore.

          Halfway through our conversation, he suddenly stood up as if he had just remembered something. Giving me a wink, he disappeared out the door. I grinned, knowing exactly where he was headed off to. As I sat by the round wooden table in the living room, I gaze absentmindedly at the sparrows fleeting about A-Gong’s potted plants. The afternoon sunlight was streaming in through the lightwell, brightening the otherwise dimly lit interior. I remember still how my siblings and I would play hide-and-seek in the interior courtyard amongst those potted plants. Ah, those really were the days……

          Shifting my gaze, my eyes were immediately drawn to the majolica tile floor. Its kaleidoscope of bright colours a stark contrast against the plain wooden and rattan furniture. Come to think about it, those mosaic pattered tiles were probably what triggered my interest in art in the first place…oh, the afternoons I’d spend on those cool, smooth floor drawing and trying to mimic their intricate patterns and colours…..

          I was brought out of my reminiscence when a bowl of steaming hot pork dumplings was placed before me. Ahh…A-Poh’s pork dumplings. How I’ve missed it while I was away! Eagerly, I picked up the chopsticks and took a bite, my mouth immediately exploding with flavour. The saltiness of the pork meat marinated with soy sauce and sesame oil, the refreshingly sweet spring onions contrasting the meat’s saltiness, the delicately wrapped flour encapsulating it all, the slight bitterness of the herbal broth…this was my definition of heaven. Seeing me happily wolfing down the dumplings, she smiled and returned to the kitchen.

          I was only halfway through my bowl of dumplings when the intense aroma of spices and chili came wafting out of the kitchen, making my mouth water. There wasn’t a need to look. I already knew what it was A-Poh was preparing. And sure enough, she came tottering out of the kitchen a few minutes later with two big bowls of hokkien-mee. Taking a seat next to me and we both dug in. I took a big slurp of soup and my tongue was instantly set on fire, the spices clashing as they performed a tango on my tongue. I had forgotten how potent the chili at home were. My lips were turning a numbing red within seconds but that didn’t stop me from downing down the entire bowl of noodles. After all, no self-respecting child of Penang would ever be caught dead bested by a bowl of spicy hokkien-mee. A-Poh chuckled as she watched me switching comically between fanning my tongue and slurping down the spicy soup.

          Just then, A-Gong came walking in through the front door and I squealed in delight. He grinned, handing me the little plastic bag in his hands before sitting down. Like a child who was just given her Christmas present early, I happily started munching on the packet of ais kacang. The frozen sweetness of the shaved ice instantly cooled my burning mouth and I quickly took a few more mouthful. Content, I glanced at my grandparents and started noticing things that had previously escaped my attention. A-Poh’s once salt-and-pepper hair was now silvery white and her hands seemed more worn and wrinkled than I last remembered. The wrinkles on A-Gong’s face seemed deeper now and his hands, especially the one with a missing finger, shook a little more than they used to whenever he held something. Since when had they aged so much?

          Realising that I had stopped eating, A-Gong pushed the plate of pandan cake closer to me, urging me to eat. Now, I was never much of a sweet tooth but I was particularly fond of this green coloured sponge cake that just melted in your mouth like a piece of cloud. The mild, aromatic sweetness of pandan and the light, fluffy texture of a chiffon cake, a beautiful fusion between European cake-making techniques and locally grown ingredients.

          As I continued munching on the cake, I couldn’t help but smile, having realized how beautifully diverse my hometown was. Just like the pandan cake, it was a place where cultures of the East and West collided and coexisted in harmony. Yes…this little culture cocktail of an island was what I called home and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

NOTES:

[1] ‘A-Poh’ means ‘grandmother’ in Hainanese

[2] ‘A-Gong’ means ‘grandfather’ in Hainanese

[3] ‘Where The Harvest Moon Shines Brightest’ is a play on  月到中秋分外明，每逢佳节倍思亲 meaning the moon is brightest in mid-autumn; homesickness multiplies during each festival

Author's Notes:

Back with Part 4 also known as the final part of the short story slash prose pieces from uni series (this was the earliest piece I wrote in first year lol). The story takes place a year and a half after Part 3. A-Yun has finally graduated uni and has now gone home. All is well ends well. Yes I am aware that there is a slight glitch and A-Gong shouldn’t exist at this point but I wrote it before I wrote everything else so we’re bringing him back to life OuO Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading Part 4~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  

Since exams are over and graded and I've officially graduated, I can finally post my work online without having to worry about Turnitin picking it up as plagiarism because apparently you aren't allowed to plagiarise yourself according to university which is absolutely ridiculous but I'm not the one making the rules here so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, please don't reupload my works without permission.

[we-with-the-lgbtqfanfiction]

Eren Yaegarx male reader. Fluff. Where they have a date or something

Eren Yeager x male!reader - picnic date (fluff)

___

The Survey Corps was quite busy for a while killing titans is hard work so once there was finally a break y/n wanted to do something sweet for he's fiery boyfriend Eren with so little things to do he wasn't s ure what would be best.

Then an idea finally came to you, you'd make a picnic date for him. Your house wasn't destroyed by titans tho only you sole live relative, your older sister lived there being wealthy was a crazy things.

You nor your sister were starved and neither were your family and friends but that's a thought for another time. Knocking at the door you heard a "One second!"

Hearing the door creek your sister head peaked out once she saw your face she opened the door wide and leaped into your arms for a hug. You hugged her firmly and spined your sister around.

She laughed out joyfully then you put her down grinning fondly. "Hey, shorty" you said with a chuckle.

"Phff. hey, chuckles." She said back with an even bigger smile. "Need anything, bro? Last week you told me you were trying to find something to do with your boyfriend. Did you finally figured something out?"

"Yeah!" You said enthusiastically. "I thought maybe I can have a picnic with him. It would be a nice change of pace from all the chaos" you half-heartedly chuckled while rubbing the back of your neck.

"I understand, y/n. You're all risking your lives for us. It's nice sometimes to take time with loved ones and feel like everything's normal! I believe you'll be able to free us! The survey corp has done so much good alright. So don't be stressed! You'll have a fantastic day with Eren! I know it! Now let's pack some food for you guys."

Your sister always knows what to say when you need a pick me up. 'I have an amazing sister'

"Thanks!" You heard her say as she dragged you to the kitchen.

"Shit, I said that out loud???" You said in surprise.

She giggled out. "Yes, you did!~"

Ah, well you meant it and she know that very well. After grabbing breads, cheese, a bit of meat and apples your sister went into a closet and got out a picnic basket.

"Here you go, y/n. I'll go get a blanket for you as well. I'm sure Eren will enjoy your date!" Your sister then went to get the aforementioned item. Coming back with it in hand and passing it to you she then said cheerfully.

"When you're free next tell me how your date went, alright?!"

With a wide smile you nodded, wrapping an arm around your sister hugging her. "Sure. But you'll have to tell me more about your crush while I'm here.

Deal?~"

You heard her sigh but felt a court nod. "Yeah, yeah. Deal." It seemed like she was annoyed but the tone in her voice gave away how fawn she was of you.

Giving her one last short hug, you start walking out the house and back to the survey corps.

You were really excited to spend your day with your cute yet fiery boyfriend Eren.

Walking in some of your friends waved at you and newer cadets

closed their hands in a fist right in front of their chests as to salute you.

Smiling at all of them and waving back you then hurried into the sleeping quarters guessing you're boyfriend was sleeping on your bed again.

He always told you it was warm and although also embarrassingly for himself to confess, the the smell of you on the sheets comforted him.

Now anything you wanted to tease him about the confession he'd punch you. Not hard enough to hurt but just enough to get the point across. You chuckled at that memory. Eren can be quite cute at time, more like all the time but you keep that to your self knowing that he'd think of it as you teasing him making him irrigated.

Brushing off your thoughts you finally got to peer over your bed, seeing the messy brown hair all messed up as Eren arms were wrapped around your couver snuggling into it. 'Oh queen Maria, his so cute!' you thought. Putting the basket down as quietly as you could and looked back up at your lover.

You then you hear shuffling, Eren's legs curled into his chest. You smiled lovingly at him. Getting on your bed, you kissed him gently then you put one hand on his shoulder shaking him slightly. You hear a grumble from him and, say "wake up, Eren dear~ It's a rare free day and I promised I'd do something special for us."

"Uggh" Eren let's out, rubbing his eyes and stretching. "What? I want to sleep some more.." He grumbled out almost irritatingly until he sees your face making him flush pink.

"Come on, sleepy head. We're going on a date!" You said excitedly. Grabbing onto Eren's arms and lifting him up, then bending down to grab the picnic basket.

*Time skip to destination*

It didn't take you both long to get here since the sun was still shining brightly. You put down the basket taking out the blanket and draping it on the ground. You sighed with a smile. "Sit down, love." Kissing his cheek you then continued talking. "My sister and I packed some good stuff. We could make sandwiches. We've got bread, cheese and some meat. We also packed some apples." You said as you sat down next to your boyfriend, putting the basket infront of both of you both.

Taking things out and smiling at Eren lovingly. Placing two slice of the loaf bread in his hand, lingering the soft touch making both of your hearts flutter.

You slowly let your gentle touch slide down his arm then off, so your hand could grab the rest of the ingredients. Eren's eyes shined beautifully as the sun rays were overhead. You both felt safe and happy in each other's company. It was a nice change of scenery. It made you want to kiss him again and so you did. You kisses him tenderly feeling his lips onto your own it wasn't hot or heavy, but it was perfect and filled with love. After the sweet kiss you continued getting everything out and onto both of your sandwiches. It was peaceful, perfect for your date Eren leand on the tree behind him and on your shoulder as you were leaning on him. Once you finished eating you placed a hand over the brownette's. Lifting his hand you brought it to your face and kissed his fingertips. Saying. "I love you my handsome titan shifter. I'm glad I've met you."

"Hmm. Me too, y/n. I'm glad I've met you too. I've never loved someone as I've love you." Eren said with so much tenderness it made your heart skip a beat.

'I'm going to marry this boy one day, Lord Maria, thank you for letting me fall for such an amazing and determined guy. I'll love him for the rest of my life.' you thought with adoration and determination in your heart.

__________

This was a requested by @thatcucumberwhore . Hope you all like it! Have an amazing week! Take care of yourselves, my dear readers!

😄💞

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

I saw that you included the belly kink in that fic you wrote, loved it by the way. Can we get some more of that? Including stuffed kohga if you're into that?? The man loves eating, after all

You're asking for Sooga's fantasy, is what you're saying. You're asking for EVERY yiga's fantasy, essentially. Let's go

"Is everything ready?"

"Just about! Keep stalling!"

Mipha motioned for Sooga to get back into the dining hall. It was THE Master’s birthday today, and Sooga was running around this way and that to make sure it was perfect. The champions were here, the princess, and of course, every member of the clan. Mipha and Link were currently cooking in the kitchen, working on his cake, all while Kohga was being entertained in the dining hall. One of the blade master’s, conveniently enough, was a former performer, and was doing a rather good job at entertaining his master. It WAS rather impressive, though Sooga wished he didn't have to doge during the fire swallowing trick. Nearly singed his hair. Kohga clapped as the blade master bowed, totally entertained.

"Did you SEE that?! He just swallowed a fucking FLAMEBLADE!"

"Swallowing IS my forté, Master Kohga."

Sooga shot him a warning glance at that flirt, and it took so much of him NOT to beat his ass. He cleared his throat as he knelt down to the birthday boy.

"Are you having fun so far, Master Kohga?"

"Loads. But it'd be better if you stopped running around and started celebrating WITH me.”

Kohga grabbed at his chin, pulling him closer, and for a moment, Sooga contemplated just cancelling everything, and kicking everyone out of the room. But Kohga was worth far more than that. He chuckled, lightly bonking his mask with his.

“I will, I swear. But you’d be disappointing everyone who worked so hard to celebrate your greatness. Plus scheduling this took almost a whole week.”

“Fuss fuss fuss, that’s all you do.”

Kohga scoffed, finally letting him go. He could tell that despite his disappointment, he found Sooga’s affections sweet. So much work has gone to make HIS day even more special. Kohga looked like he was going to complain some more, when suddenly, from out of the kitchen, came not only a few blade masters, but the champions, helping carry the BIGGEST cake you’ve ever seen. That caught Kohga’s attention, and he sat up in his seat, clapping wildly. It wasn’t JUST this beautiful cake being brought forth (heavy on the caramel icing), but all types of food that he LOVED, all in one table. Fried bananas, meat stews, tabantha bakes, all types of creamy, thick soups, bowls of tender, delicious meat, and all types of various rice dishes. Best part? Not a SINGLE fish dish in sight. Kohga looked nearly excited enough to jump out of his special birthday chair.

“Is THIS what you spent so long doing? Is this why you ‘forgot’ my breakfast this morning?”

“Perhaps. Please, eat as much as you please. I take it you’re ready for presents?”

“Yes! Gimme ALL of them!”

Little did Kohga know, he’d be getting a VERY special gift tonight, thanks to Sooga.

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

“Today was the best day EVER!”

“I couldn’t tell, given how much you were laughing and hugging everyone. Even Revali.”

“Hey he’s not bad when he’s sloshed.”

Kohga chuckled once Sooga set him down, bringing in his new presents right after. Hair clips from Revali, a friendship bracelet from Mipha, a birthday crown from Zelda, monster rice balls from Link (he didn’t question it), hard liquor from Urbosa, and LOTS of goron spice from Daruk. It was sweet, all of it was. Sooga chuckled as he finished bringing everything in, watching as Kohga sat there comfortably, rubbing at his VERY full tummy. Sooga sat down next to him, kissing the top of his head.

“Perfect birthday?”

“Almost. I ate so much other food, I didn’t get to try the cake.”

“Oh! I saved you a slice, just in case. It’s over...here!”

Sooga dug into the pile of stuff, and pulled out a plate. It held the neatest, biggest piece of cake he could get. Kohga chuckled, leaning over to lightly shove his shoulder.

“You saved me a piece? Why did I expect anything else from someone like you?”

“I’ll take that as a complement. Here, I have a fork.”

Sooga sat back down, cake in his hand, when something in him..clicked. Maybe it was his Master being happy. Maybe it was the fact that he ate SO much food, so full of gluttony and greed. He was surprised anyone got any food to eat in his wake. And he saw it, in that big, full tummy of his. It looked even bigger, even grander than ever.

“Could I feed this to you?”

Why would he ask that? Why would ANYONE ask that? He was about to apologize, when Kohga chuckled, slightly shaking his head.

“I mean, sure. Less effort for me, why not? Long as I get my cake.”

Kohga lifted his mask up a bit, just for his mouth. Sooga froze for a moment as Kohga sat there, mouth open and expecting. He..shouldn’t keep him waiting, right? He nodded, grabbed a piece, and put it right in his Master’s soft, plush mouth. He licked the frosting off of his lips, nodding in approval.

“That is a VERY good cake right there. Nice and moist.”

“I..take all the food was to your liking?”

“Oh definitely. The chicken curry, salted greens, oh and the tabantha bakes! I LOVED the tabantha bakes!”

He kept feeding Kohga piece by piece, watching as his lips enjoyed bite after bite. Kohga...did eat a LOT tonight. So many plates of warm, hearty food.

“I could tell. You kept dunking them in the poultry pilaf.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I have no idea how many plates of those that I ate.”

“I’d be more concerned over how many bowls of rice and meat you ate.”

Kohga groaned, giving his stomach a nice, satisfied rub.

“Ugh that meat was SO good. The rice was nice and sticky, the meat was juicy, you could wring that shit out. Thank god you got that cake, I’m starting to get hungry again.”

Sooga nodded as he kept sitting there, putting more and more cake into his mouth. Kohga was ever so hungry. Big, beautiful body DID need so many calories to keep it running. Sooga eventually ran out of cake, and he found himself still glancing at his big, heavy tummy. Kohga saw there was no more cake, and pouted.

“Ugh. I kinda want more cake. You think I should fast after this?”

“No! Absolutely not. You eat until you feel satisfied, Kohga. If you want to eat, you want to eat. I can go into the kitchen, have them make you another cake. Maybe something else to eat?”

“I’d KILL for a mushroom omelette right now. But I don’t want you to leave.”

Sooga thought about getting Kohga’s food anyway, but he just. Kept looking at how Kohga kept massaging at his tummy. Clearly he needed his help.

“Then I shall stay. We can give you a nice, big breakfast in the morning instead.”

“Whatever keeps us both here.”

Kohga burped into his hand, and Sooga immediately felt awful. His poor master’s stomach was clearly in need of his comforting hand. He crawled up to him, suddenly finding both hands on his belly, rubbing it in small, slow circles.

“I’ll stay here as long as you need. You just relax, my Master.”

Kohga chuckled, looking as if he’d stop Sooga’s fussing, only to put his hands behind his head, and continue to let him. Kohga didn’t speak as Sooga tenderly massaged his belly, staring at it longingly. It was so big, so beautiful, so full of everything that was good in this world. Sooga was attracted to him for his hands, his voice, his confidence, but honestly? His belly was his favorite part of him. He could feel the softness under the yiga uniform, feel the warmth under his fingertips. It was so lovely, so precious, just the weight of it all.

“Jesus Sooga, you’re easy.”

“Pardon?”

Kohga used his head to motion downward. Sooga looked down, and found himself aroused. VERY aroused. He pulled his hands away, grabbing a pillow to cover himself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I didn’t say you had to stop, you know. Go on, do your thing. Don’t forget, you haven’t given me my birthday present yet~”

Sooga thought about refusing, but...well, he hadn’t gotten him a gift just yet. And he really, REALLY wanted this. He put the pillow back, and buried his face into Kohga’s stomach. One hand was used to grab and grope at his belly, the other was used to free his cock from his cloth confines. Kohga had such a big, wonderful tummy, he hated how absolutely hard it made him.

“I...really like your stomach, Master Kohga.”

“Ah ah ah. YOU’RE jerking off because of my stomach, on MY birthday. You call it ‘poochy tummy’ like a good boy.”

“Must I?”

“You wanna cum, then yes.”

Sooga groaned. He hated that everyone called it that, it was stupid, But, if that’s what it took, so be it.

“I...really like your poochy tummy. A lot. Especially after you eat. You look so full and content after you stuff yourself.”

Sooga was already panting, grip tight and slow on his cock, just how preferred it. It didn’t help that Kohga put his hand on his head, affectionately petting him like he was such a good boy.

“That why you offered to feed me cake?”

“...maybe.”

“Pfft. Pervert. But I like it, it’s cute, knowing your cock gets so hard for my full belly. You could totally feed me again, would you like that?”

Sooga’s whine was stifled by Kohga’s big tummy, but Kohga was taking that as a yes. Sooga was sitting here, pumping his cock because he wanted to make his big belly even fuller. Such a cute bottom. Sooga liked this so much, he was already feeling himself at the edge.

“Master Kohga, I don’t think I’m going to l-last much-”

“You gonna stay there, or you gonna get up here and cum on my poochy tummy?”

The idea excited Sooga so much, he practically leapt up to sit right on him. With a slow, tender hand, Sooga sat there, pumping his cock (and even rubbing his cock RIGHT on him, like a dream). Then he came. Ribbons of cum came from him, littering his big, soft tummy, it reminded him of a nice, fresh cinnamon roll. Sooga sat there for a moment, trying to take in the fact that his cock was sitting there, amongst his own cum, right on Kohga’s tummy. Kohga chuckled, giving a light shake of his head.

“You JUMPED for that, didn’t you big boy? Not that I mind, I wanted some more dessert.”

Kohga swiped his finger across Sooga’s head, and licked that bit of cum off his finger.

Kohga may be the gluttonous one, but Sooga was truly the one who was hungry.