#and I just stand there petting the really fluffy yarn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yanderenightmare · 4 years ago

Note

Hi I have no idea if requests are open, but how would our yandere boys (of your choosing) react when their come home to their pets wearing their hero/villain outfits? I know many of them would be amused, but I feel since they're each a different type of yandere they'd have a various dark thoughts.

yandere ! BNHA thirsts

goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, profanity, dumbification, condescension, degradation, FLUFF, obsession

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

She looks like a little ninja in that mask. She wasn’t able to put any of the other things on because of the sheer size of them compared to her. She wouldn’t really ever call herself petite, given she’s a clumsy mess, but standing next to Bakugo, it’s safe to say she felt like a mouse next to a bear. And though she was standing in his great big boots, swimming in them, the mask was the only thing that fit. Resulting in her standing there, in her underwear, in his massive black heavy combat-boots and his menacing black mask.

Scratch the first note. She looked, briefly, like a ninja in that mask, but as she noticed him lurking in the threshold of the door, she made the mistake of trying to jump like the skittish bunny she is, her feet caught in the trap of his shoes and tripping before she could catch herself, all graceless and clumsy and not at all like any ninja. No worries though, seeing how Katsuki’s quick on his feet, she was never even close to hitting the floor before she was hugged tightly to his chest.

He’s amused, it’s the first thing she notices, that great big sun-swallowing grin stretched on his face, the gleaming glint in his eyes, so bright she’s forced to giggle in her unbalanced yet secured embrace. She looks like a little rookie sidekick, in desperate need to learn a thing or two from him, or an amateur cat-burglar who thought she could poach one or two things from him, caught red-handed, trapped. He can already feel his dick perking, twitching in his sweats, growing warm and heavy just at the sight of her stupid giddy smile. She’s only wearing his fucking mask, but holy fuck, why does she have to be so fucking cute all the goddamn time?

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

She doesn’t often think about how much bigger Keigo is than her. Sure, she knows it, he’s bigger, taller, stronger, faster, but they’re not facts he opts to make abundantly clear. Keigo is like a child more often than not, he’s ridiculous, pouty, petty, always pulling pranks, cracking jokes through sarcasm and a sly smile, where other times he’s just a horny spaz. He’s not really one to exert dominance, not really a personality that screams alpha. Yet, as she treads on his suede flight jacket, she realizes just how small she is in comparison to his lean frame.

They were fresh out of the shower, towel wrapped around her to dry, Keigo still in front of the mirror fixing his hair to look neatly disheveled, but as she stepped out, leaving Keigo to his vain antics in the bathroom, she caught eye of something that would be way more comfortable than her towel. The fur was stupid soft, and warm, and smelt so undeniably like Keigo, and felt really nice against her sensitive ripe raw skin after having been taken by her wild animal in the shower for hours.

She was so lost with her eyes closed, holding onto the feeling of the softness wrapped around her to even notice Keigo leaning in the threshold of the bathroom-door. His deep chuckle brought her back to reality fast enough though. Drowsy blissed eyes looking to his amused ones, smile stretched into a toothy smirk at the sight of her cuddling with his hero-jacket. She shouldn’t be surprised to find herself tackled to the bed. He had a towel wrapped around his torso, but it fell to the ground in the tackle, naked body pressed against her nude frame, warm flesh and the softness of the fur, his darling giggling at his absurdity as he peppers kisses down the valley between her breasts.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Seeing her in that bunny-mask alone is enough to spark an obsession, no mind to the boots and gloves. The hero-costume is supposed to act disarming to the public, given how bunnies are a sign of good-luck and seem cuddly and cute and not at all like they could have your skin and flesh ripped from your bones with the mere flick of a wrist. But his darling is just that, isn’t she? A harmless little ball of sweet precious softness. This brittle breakable dainty little thing, flimsy and frail and feeble and all his. Safe to say he fucked her stupid that night, had her seated on his lap, hopping up and down the length of his cock like a precious little bunny for hours.

He doesn’t care much for the rest of the outfit, but he does take it upon himself to buy a series of other bunny-inspired accessories. Cute ears in all shapes, both large and pointy, and short and strutting, as well as long floppy ones. She looks so precious, what with that adorable fluffy pompom tail behind her, so chaste and innocent looking despite the sheer lace and mesh of the lingerie, leaving all her tender bits on display for him. Especially cute with those fluffy handcuffs around her wrists, and that slightly anxious look on her face as he completes the outfit with a collar around her throat and a leash trailing to his hand.

His little pet, she looks like such a playboy picture, placed so perfectly on his bed, large pillows placed around her, other bunnies in the form of stuffed animals, such a pristine cotton-flavored pastel-hued paradise, all for him to destroy with those hands of his and those teeth and that dirty depraved mind.

CHISAKI KAI – OVERHAUL

He doesn’t usually appreciate being made fun of, but when his darling clasped on his plague-mask, opting to intimidate him with the most calculating stare she could manage, he couldn’t help but crack a smile. And when she drummed her white-gloved-fingers up his chest, climbing to sit in his lap, eyes still holding his gaze with a witch’s spell, her voice the most ominous rust she could muster, telling him how she could destroy him with one mere measly touch, mocking him so much so he didn’t need to see under the mask to know how wide she’s smirking, he’s livid with thrill, only barely holding himself together, hanging onto every single movement she made.

He hadn’t known he was such a narcissist, but he had to admit seeing his darling in his moss-green bomber-jacket, large enough to reach under her ass, hiding her body like a tease with indigo-fur splayed thickly around her shoulders and up around her ears, nestling her head that had his mask protruding like a bird-beak out towards him, that tantalizing look in her eyes, it was turning him on, madly so, he could barely sit down as her hands, clad in his surgical gloves, danced up to undo the zipper to the jacket in one agonizingly slow movement, only to reveal she wasn’t wearing anything but his white tie. He was about to lose it.

He pounces, like a vulture, mask thrown to some unknown corner of the room, her body pressed firmly into the mattress, tie used as a collar and leash as he presses his firm lips into her pillowy ones, kissing with desperation, with hunger, with need. Hands so harsh in their worship, grabbing onto her, pushing her knees apart, granting access to the tempel between her legs, where he can plant even more kisses.

AIZAWA SHOTA - ERASURHEAD

He’s seen her tangled up in his scarf more times than he’s seen her with clothes on, but as a capture-weapon it’s been unwillingly and meant to immobilize and secure her more than comfort her. Most times she’d whine when being handicapped by the tight bondage, looking like a kitten who’s managed to tangle herself up in a ball of yarn, but now she’s wrapping it around her naked body like a blanket, cuddling with the tresses, head sunken inside the nest laid thickly around her shoulders, hanging off and falling around her bare arms and breasts.

It reminds him of Halloween. A poor attempt at trying to look scary, wrapping herself in like a mummy, or trying to pass as some wraith, or as though having bandaged cuts and bruises, meant to look so scary but not at all able to hide how she’s simply a small adorable little soft cuddly kitten, incapable of achieving anything remotely scary-looking. He scoffs and grins as he looks down at her, needing to touch what ridiculous display she’s conjured and intertwined herself in.

She threw her head back with a strange smile on her face, trying to imitate him, stopping him in his pursuit of grabbing her as he had to slap his face with a groan, a smile forcing itself up on his own face at the feel of his heart warming, throbbing, in his chest, butterflies causing a ruckus in his stomach. How he wished he could digest those feelings, stomach acid melting the wings of those bothersome insects. He doesn’t have the time for such pleasantries, but his darling doesn’t seem to mind being a distraction whatsoever. She should know... there are consequences for being such a little tease.

1K notes · View notes

nat-20s · 4 years ago

Text

Wonderful! Au Part 7! (also on ao3 here) another episode only installment, and obnoxiously fluffy! Have fun!

~*~

Martin, tired: Hello everybody! Welcome, or welcome back, to a very low energy episode. We have had, as the kids say, A Week Tm.

Jon, equally tired, but fond: Is that as the kids say?

Martin: I don't know, and perhaps worse, I don't really care. I guess I could ask Jeremiah next time he's over, but I'm not sure if that would actually help.

Jon: Shockingly, I don't think two year olds have their finger on the beating pulse of youth culture.

Martin: Hmm, maybe not. Speaking of Jeremiah, he's part of why the format of this episode is gonna be a bit different than our regular. On top of me dealing with a frankly obscene amount of inventory management, and Jon being swamped with grant writing-

Jon: I never want to look at proposal guidelines again-

Martin: we were on babysitting duty for our favourite neighborhood hellion-

Jon: Hey, Jeremiah is a very sweet kid! I know he's a toddler, but we shouldn't be slandering him anyway.

Martin: One, we're not even using his real name, I don't think that counts as slander, and two, exactly, he's a toddler, he's by default a hellion.

Jon, teasing: This coming from the person that actually wants one?

Martin: I..look, if anything, the last few days have shown we should not be permanent parents.

Jon: But?

Martin:...There's no but.

Jon: I don't believe you! Are you lying for my benefit or the audience's? Because someone spent the last five days wearing one of the largest grins I've ever seen, exhausted as it may have been.

Martin: Okay! Fine, I admit, I liked having a kid around. I still think it would be a bad idea to do it full time, but I dunno. I wish we weren't both only children or something. We would make such good uncles.

Jon: Should I should have taken that teaching job after all?

Martin: Perhaps. After all,

Martin, singsong: An English teacher, is really someone!

Jon and Martin, singing together: If only you, had be-come one!

Jon: Honestly, though, I was considerably underqualified. I'm much more suited to my current job, even if it doesn't have quite the same impact on the "shaping of the next generation" or whatnot.

Martin: Wait, you actually care about qualifications now? When did that change?

Jon: This coming from Mister "master's degree in parapsychology"? And it was probably around the time that the world ended from taking on a workload I was ill-suited for.

Jon:...

Jon: Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Martin: Oh, of course. Definitely nothing literally apocalyptic in our pasts, no siree, nothing to see or speculate about or make weirdly involved forums for here. Uh, anyway, long introduction not so short: Both of us have been averaging about 4 hours of sleep, so any sort of actual research was not on the table.

Jon: If any of you are wondering why we didn't just say that we're both very much worn out and thus we'll be taking a week off, it's because we're both deeply, deeply stubborn.

Martin: It's one of our best shared qualities that has never caused any conflict between us, ever.

Jon: In fairness, sheer stubbornness does account for, what, 75% of the reason that either of us are still alive? And it hasn't caused a major conflict between us in a good three years.

Martin: That's true. We've become a deeply boring, relatively conflict free couple. Which fucking rules, by the way. To all the couples out there: I highly recommend being boring. It is so nice. We've gotten to go to the farmer's market so many times.

Jon: You do love the farmer's market. I would say that it's the access to fresh produce, but I think you just like the attention that one yarn seller gives you. Can't believe you would take advantage of a crush to get discounts on wool. How did I marry such an opportunist?

Martin: Ollie does not have a crush on me. They're just friendly to everyone.

Jon: Bullshit. I certainly never get an extra skein or stitch markers or delicate fabric cleaner tossed in my bag. Actually, I think I've been charged more for committing the crime of having married you before they could.

Martin: I'm..70% sure that's not true, but every sentence we speak, we stray further from even pretending to be on topic. So, to everybody listening, this is the itty bitty episode! Basically, we're only doing small wonders and user submissions. If you want details or backstory for things we like, too bad, come back next week. Jon, I believe you're first this week?

Jon: Oh, right. My first small wonder is cat names.

Martin: Delightful, but unsurprising. Though, I would've expected either more or less specificity. Why cat names as opposed to pet's names in general, or, like, military title names?

Jon: Well that's simple enough. I've simply never met a misnamed cat, even if the name itself wasn't to my personal tastes, and I think that speaks to the wonderful universality of cats.

Martin: This, of course, implies that you have met animals that were misnamed.

Jon: Oh, I have. I once met a papillion dog named Meatball.

Martin: Now I know you don't like food names in general for pets, but are you sure that Meatball didn't suit the dogs personality? I've known some "Meatballs" in my lifetime.

Jon, only half-mock offended: Of course it didn't fit, Martin. She was a lady. A nervous, jittery lady, but a lady nonetheless.

Martin, laughing: And what, you've never met a dignified cat with an undignified name, or vice versa? Would you be okay with our cat being named Meatball?

Jon: I would be upset if our cat was named Meatball, because we named her and we're above that sort of thing, but, technically speaking, she could have been Meatball in another lifetime and it wouldn't have been wrong. You see, all cats are a mix of both extremely austere and little baby idiot.

Martin: Oh, is that the scientific terminology?

Jon: It is. Now, while there's probably some amount of, er, normative determinism or confirmation bias or something that results in a cat with a more dignified name seeming to possess more of that austerity, as all cats have both, any name can, potentially, fit. Hence why it's wonderful.

Martin: I..accept your proposal for now, but I think more research needs to be done. Maybe we should visit the shelter this weekend and test your hypothesis.

Jon: Hmm. I think we may need to visit multiple shelters, actually. A large sample size is necessary for any sort of veracity, obviously.

Martin, imitating Jon tone: Obviously.

Jon: Glad you agree. What's your first small wonder?

Martin: Tofu!

Jon: I..didn't realize you liked that much?

Martin: Well, I don't get it very often since I know you can't stand the texture, even though it is not like 'worse scrambled eggs', and you're a horrible food thief-

Jon: Lies and slander. We readily share. If I'm a horrible food thief, you have committed the exact same, if not worse, crime as myself.

Martin: Well, we are thick as thieves.

Jon, groaning: You're thick as something alright

Martin: Rude! My beloved husband-

Jon: -uh huh-

Martin: whom I love and trust with my most tender of hearts-

Jon: -an oddly cannibalistic turn of phrase-

Martin, badly suppressing laughter: Oh, my god. I want a divorce, then I can put tofu in as many dishes as I like. I'll triple my protein intake.

Jon: It'd never go through. I'll burn the papers. No, wait, I'll burn down the legal offices where the papers are kept.

Martin: Hmm. While my experiences with it have been, uh, varied to say the least, I do have to admit that arson is one of the more attractive crimes of passion. I suppose I'll take you back.

Jon, flat: I'm so very grateful.

Jon, genuine: You do have yet to actually tell me why you think tofu is wonderful, love.

Martin: It's just a good food! It's neutral enough that you can toss it in pretty much anything with a sauce, you can bake it, you can fry it, whatever. Plus it's what? two? Three quid? I spent many years of my life living off the cheapest, saltiest approximation of noodles you could imagine, and half a pack of tofu, a little bit of sesame oil, and some green onions went a long way to both making it more filling and less sad.

Martin: Plus, I feel like it often gets decried for being something it's not? It's so often viewed as a meat substitute or the vegan alternative option, and so when people try it, they often go in with a false preconceived notion of what it's going to be like, and then end up disappointed. They're all like, 'ugh, this doesn't taste like turkey!' and yeah, of course it doesn't. It's the oatmeal raisin cookie of the protein world, a perfectly good and tasty treat on its own, but if you want chocolate chip, it's not gonna work.

Jon: Martin you don't even like oatmeal raisin. I'm the only one that ever eats them out of the multipacks.

Martin: Well, yeah, but I don't like oatmeal raisin because of its flavor, not because I think it should be chocolate chip and fails. It illustrates my point. Also, just for balance, is your next small wonder oatmeal raisin cookies?

Jon: No, though, maybe one of these weeks. They are good. But no, um, my next small wonder is being married.

Martin, let out a high bark of a laugh: Being married is a small wonder?!

Jon: Small wonders doesn't mean a lack of importance! Or even significance in our lives. Half the time we even end up spending just as much time chattering on about them as the things we actually research. But, yes, I didn't feel like researching the concept of being married. For one, a lot of the history of it is depressing and patriarchal, and for two, it's not something I really feel any need to elaborate on. Being married. I very much enjoy it. I recommend it for anybody that's found someone that they want to marry, and who wants to marry them. I really recommend being married to Martin Blackwood, I think I would enjoy it significantly less if it was to anybody else, but one: we typically try to make the wonderful things in this show applicable to more than just ourselves, and two: I got there first, so I believe the appropriate thing to say here would be; neener neener and/or everyone else can go suck it, Ollie.

Martin: Well...

Jon: Well, what?

Martin: Saying you got there first is technically not true-

Jon: What?!

Martin, laughing like a bastard: Sorry, sorry! Couldn't resist! Jon, you already know that you're my first real realationship, how would be married before fit that?

Jon: Hence my surprise at the notion! I cannot believe you! I give you my trust, my earnestness, and belief-

Martin [only laughs harder]

Jon: and you throw it in my face for a bit. I take back everything, being married is a nightmare, because sometimes your partner thinks he a fucking comedian and you just have to put up with him because you love him and want to live the rest of your life with him or some such nonsense. Not worth it, if you ask me. My turn to ask for the divorce.

Martin: Babe, hate to break it to you, but both of us are guilty of doing bits that the other doesn't like, it's an integral part of a healthy marriage, and secondly, you knew who I was long before I proposed. You should've said no when you had the chance.

Jon: Hang on, you proposed?

Martin: Yeah? This isn't part of a bit, of course I proposed. I'm even pretty sure you were there. The whole visit back to Scotland trip? I finally made you a sweater and said it was because we would now be immune to the boyfriend curse?

Jon: No, no, I remember all that, but it wasn't the proposal. It was a reaffirmation of the proposal. We had already decided to get married.

Martin: Well, yeah,, I wasn't just gonna spring that on you, we had had conversations beforehand-

Jon: No, I mean, I had already proposed. I asked you to marry me a good three years earlier, and you said yes, which is a proposal by any definition that I know.

Martin: Jon, love, darling, apple of my eye, fire of my soul, I mean this in the nicest way possible, what the everloving fuck are you talking about?

Jon: In the ambulance ride when we, uh, moved here. It was the thing I said to you the second I saw your eyes were open.

[An audible pause is left in the recording.]

Martin: That does not count.

Jon: How does it not count?! I asked you to marry me, you very emphatically said yes, that's the de facto definition of an accepted marriage proposal!

Martin: It doesn't count because you were half-delirious with blood-loss, and I had a traumatic brain injury that the hospital was very surprised I made a full recovery from. No court in the world would consider anything we said then more than pain driven ramblings, let alone, I dunno, contractually binding.

Jon: Well, I knew what I was saying well and clear. Just because it was desperate doesn't mean it wasn't sincere. I didn't realize that you weren't as cognizant when you accepted.

Martin, snorting: Yeah, didn't really need to be cognizant to say yes. I've wanted to marry you since the train ride to Scotland.

Jon: Wait, really? Martin, we hadn't even been on a date.

Martin: And yet we were on the lamb together, which I honestly think is more romantic than sitting in some restaurant somewhere trying to get through icebreakers. Also, back up, from your perspective we've been engaged since 2019? What did you think we were doing in the interim?

Jon: Uhh..

Martin: Yes?

Jon: There are people that have long engagement periods, and it's not exactly like we were in any sort of position to get married for awhile. Especially not that first year.

Martin: Okay? And?

Jon: And..I sort of thought you had changed your mind. For awhile. Was rather surprised that you kept living with me, considering that, on the worst nights, I was convinced you were going to storm off and leave me forever any minute now. Hence why your proposal was rather relieving.

Martin: Oh, Jon, love. That is so very ridiculous, and so very you, and so very close to many of my own fears and doubts. Do you have any idea how terrified I was to float the idea of marriage to you? Half the time I was convinced I was just meant to keep you company until you found someone better. And, Christ, we'd, from your perspective, been engaged the whole damn time. Fuck.

[Jon, after a beat, starts laughing. It has a slightly hysterical edge to it. Martin joins in. It takes a minute for the laughter to subside enough for them to speak again.]

Jon: I'm rapidly realizing that our entire romantic relationship would've been, if not more successful, a hell of a lot faster if we weren't both complete fools.

Martin: You're realizing that now? I think I've known that since the CV incident. I've definitely known it since the Lonely.

Jon, with a slightly tired chuckle:Yes, yes, something probably should've tipped me off earlier. Shockingly, observation of our own personal romantic trends is not always a strong suit of mine.

Jon: Anyway, please tell me you have another small wonder, this has gotten wildly of track.

Martin: Since we're talking about marriage anyway, I think my next small wonder is having a shared reference in your wedding vows. Our friends had "I have been, and always shall be, your friend" in theirs, and I made Jon cry with a slightly altered Lord of the Rings quote in ours.

Jon: First off, we were both openly weeping long before that point, secondly, I defy anybody to have been through half of what we have and then have the love of their life look them in the eyes and tell them "Leave you? I never intend to. I am going with you, if you climb to the moon" without at least tearing up.

Martin: There wasn't a dry eye in the audience, either. Granted, the audience was only 20 people, but that was also literally the only time I've seen Eloise show a strong emotion, so I'm pretty smug about it.

Martin, soft: I still feel exactly the same, you know. If you're climbing to the moon, I'll make sure the rope is strong enough for two.

Jon, soft: I know, love.

Jon: Though, to be fair, the moon is also significantly more pleasant than many places we've been.

Martin: God, I hate how much that's true. Look at this barren, oxygenless rock, at least it's not actively trying to kill us. Practically a honeymoon location.

[Martin sighs]

Martin: I am so tired. Let's do the user submissions then take a very long nap.

Jon: Please.

Martin: So, first submission is from Josie; They find it wonderful getting cards from their friends. They say they're lucky to have so much love in their life and have friends that care enough to send them things. That is wonderful Josie! We have a drawer in our house dedicated to every loving card we've ever received since the move, and they're always such a nice reminder of the people in our lives.

Jon: We should really organize that drawer, but, yes, agree with the sentiment. Even the cards from people that are no longer in our lives are lovely, I think. Those connections are very much meaningful for both of us, whether they're active or not.

Martin: That's very true. Next submission is from Lys, who submits the sound of leaves crunching under your feet in the fall. Ah, that's a classic.

Jon: I just felt myself relax imagining it. I wish it was autumn.

Martin: Don't we all? Alright, for the last submissions, I'm grouping them together as they follow a similar theme. Jadwiga submits the feeling of waking up well into the morning with the sun shining through the window and your cat laying next to you, and Oran submits when a dog falls asleep with its head in your lap.

Jon: I can heartily recommend at least one of those, considering that's how we try to wake up most mornings. The Duchess is a dutiful darling girl who spends every night with us, and she's usually still there when us humans rise.

Martin: I bet you'll agree with the other when I finally convince you to get me a dog for my birthday.

Jon: It hasn't happened yet, so I wouldn't hold your breath.

Martin: But you don't even dislike dogs! You're just as happy to pet them when they pass by as I am.

Jon: Being fine with an animal isn't the same thing as wanting to adopt one for yourself! We don't even know if The Duchess would put up with a dog.

Martin: I bet she would. I bet we could get a big senior dog who's the calmest animal you've ever met with those soft eyes and a little grey on the muzzle and she would cuddle up in an instant. And we did say we should visit a shelter or three this weekend..

Jon: I think you're rather callously taking advantage of my exhausted state, but I suppose we can look.

Martin: Hell fuckin yeah. So, I think that'll close out the episode, and as we always say at the end, uh, go take a nap and get a dog. Not necessarily in that order.

#wonderful! au #jonmartin #tma #jon sims #martin blackwood #my fic #thank you to everyone that submitted!!!#also; i am offically out of ideas for installments #more may come later but i make no promises!

143 notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

Text

Sharing Is Caring ~ LF, BC [M] [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2.8K

GENRE: Smut, Hybrid AU, Threesome,

PAIRING: Hybrid!Cat Felix x Hybrid!Cat Reader x Hybrid!Wolf Chan

WARNINGS: Sexually explicit, pet names, hybrid smut, oral M receiving and F receiving, unprotected sex.

A/N: I’m not an expert on writing threesomes or Hybrid AU’s but I hope this came out okay for you my lovely 🌆 anon

Chan's eyes followed you as you walked towards the kitchen of the dorms, he was so quiet that you had no idea he was even home. You thought you and Felix had the dorms to yourself while the boys all went away for their break. Chan was supposed to have gone to Changbin's but decided to stay back instead, something inside of him yarned to stay home and now he knew what it was. He'd have missed the perfect opportunity to watch you walked around the apartment practically naked, your long black fluffy tail behind you as you walked to get some water.

"Babe-" Felix stopped himself from talking when he saw Chan watching you, he'd known for a while that Chan had a small crush on you but he thought nothing of it. He'd been opposed to sharing you but Felix had, had a dream a couple of nights ago about all three of you together. It had turned him on so much he couldn't get back to sleep and woke you up just to fuck the dreams away but now that you were standing there in front of them both it almost made it feel like it was supposed to happen,

"Lix what- Oh! Chan! Sorry, I thought- I thought we were alone," You stammered ou,t putting the cup back into the sink as you tried to pull the shirt down, it wasn't like you were displaying anything but you were suddenly shy in front of the wolf hybrid.

"It's okay I was enjoying the view actually," Your ears turned as you got shy in front of him you casually walked over to Felix not wanting Chan's words to affect you too much. There was no denying that he was incredibly handsome and sweet and you had thought about him once or twice, but you were loyal to Felix.

"What's the matter kitten? Did Chan's words make you feel good?" Felix's hand ran down your spine until he came into contact with your ass giving it a squeeze as you let out a yelp of surprise.

"W-What are you doing?" You whimpered as you looked at Felix, he reached out to run his hand through your hair he'd always loved how soft it was, matched the feel of your tail perfectly.

"Well I've always wondered what it would be like to share you and I know Chan's been thinking of that too," Your eyes widened as you looked at Chan, he was sitting back in the chair closing his laptop. He wasn't going to lie, he found you extremely attractive and there had been more than one occasion when he'd heard you and Lix and imagined what it would be like if he was involved somehow.

"Share me? How?" Your thighs squeezed together as you got excited at the thought the action didn't go unmissed by Chan who smirked at Felix,

"I think she likes this Felix, I can already smell her arousal just dripping from her," Within seconds they were by your side and your back was against the wall, your head spinning to look at both of them as they inched closer. Their breaths on each side of your neck until they finally laid gentle kisses on the exposed skin,

"What do you say, Kitten? Do you want to play?" Felix questioned softly biting down on your ear as he whispered into it, your head began to frantically nod before you even had a chance to think it through. All you knew was that you wanted both of them, touching you, kissing you or the other way around. You just wanted them.

"Nice and easy kitten, we won't do anything you're not comfortable with." Chan took onto the nickname Felix had for you really well.

"Strip," You licked your lips as the demand came from Felix who was normally quite reserved when it came to the bedroom but tonight something came over him.

"O-okay, but you too." You stuttered out looking down at your outfit, you didn't have much to strip out of except for the black lace panties and the shirt you'd stolen from Felix. Chan smirked at you,

"Alright Kitten," He slowly began to pull the black hoodie up from his stomach revealing his abs that you'd seen at a glance before but that were now on full display for you to view.

"You have a little droll baby," Felix grumbled trying not to get jealous since this was his idea in the first place, you felt heat rush through your body as you began to slowly lift the baggy shirt from your body letting it drop to the floor.

As you went to reach for your panties the boys stopped you, Felix turned you around to slap and grab onto your ass. It was one of his favourite things about you,

"So sexy," You whimpered as he squeezed a little harder and then Chan's hand came into contact with your other ass cheek, slapping and grabbing onto the skin roughly chuckling as you let out a whine.

"So cute when she whines like this Felix, I don't know how you keep in control of yourself," He whispered kissing down your neck as you rolled your head back to look at Felix who was licking his lips at the sight of you,

"I don't know how I do either Channie," You shakily ran your hand down their bare stomachs before you began palming them through the shorts they were wearing, both of them rock hard making your mouth water at the thought of them. You sank down onto the floor turning to face their crotches and looked up at them.

"Does baby want a taste?" You nodded silently taking your hands up to the button of Felix's shorts, you began to unbutton them while Chan watched eagerly waiting to see what you could do.

"I-I want you both," You whispered palming Felix through his boxers with one hand while your other fumbled with the button to Chan's shorts, he smirked helping you out.

They both stripped out of their boxers leaving you to kneel in front of them, your core growing wetter from the sight of both of their members in front of you. You reached out to stroke Chan while you took Felix into your mouth, you wanted to work your way up to Chan since he was a little larger than Felix, not in length but in girth. Your eyes locked with Felix as you began to slowly swirl your tongue around his tip. Licking slowly along his slit to suck up his precum while you pumped Chan in your hand, occasionally switching eye contact with them both as you sucked Felix off.

"F-Feels so warm kitten," At the nickname, you began to take more of him into your mouth taking him until he hit the back of your throat and then you slowly began to bob your head up and down making sure you took him all the way to the back of your throat so he could feel it.

"Shit Y/n," He moaned out rolling his head back and bucking his hips so he could hit you in the back of the throat again. You hummed around him to create some vibrations around his cock and he grunted, you pulled off swirling your tongue around his tip before switching over to Chan. There was a string of drool dripping down your chin which made Chan moan at the sight off. Your hand was on Felix continuing to pump him while you spat onto Chan's cock, pumping him slowly as you placed your lips around his tip. Licking the tip and swirling your tongue around it before sucking softly making him whine out.

"D-Don't tease me, angel," Chan growled looking down at you as you smirked around him licking from base to tip before you finally took him into your mouth repeating the same thing you had done to Felix while holding eye contact with him. Chan's hands worked their way into your hair forcing you down further onto him not wanting you to stop. You felt so much better than he'd ever been able to imagine,

"H-Holy fuck," He groaned as you held onto his thigh taking him further into your mouth, his cock filling your throat. As soon as he twitched you pulled off and smiled up at both of them.

"Bed," Felix ordered making you get up on your feet and go over to the double bed in Chan's room, Chan pushed you to lay down and then dragged you to the edge of the bed.

"Panties are still in the way," Felix hissed ripping the black underwear from your body promising to buy you another pair sometime.

"Look how wet you are for us," Chan cooed running his index finger through your folds as you spread your legs for them, not wanting to shy them away. You were needy for them to finally touch you,

"So eager to spread your legs," Felix chuckled sinking to the spot in front of you on the floor as he began to attached his lips around your clit making you moan out.

"L-Lix," You breathed out as you finally felt some friction you'd been dying for since they first mentioned this in the kitchen,

"I want a taste too, Felix? Do you mind?" Felix moved his lips away from your clit and he began to pump two fingers in and out of you.

"Lix-" Your moan of Felix's name was cut off as Chan's lips were wrapped around your clit, sucking and licking on your clit as Felix pumped his fingers in and out of you hitting the right spot. Your legs shook as he continued to thrust his fingers knuckles deep inside of you,

"Taste so fucking good, kitten," Chan mumbled against your clit, the vibrations from his voice making you shake as you looked down at him. Your hands shakily reached out to take his hair into your hands, pushing him closer to your clit trying to reach your orgasm faster.

"Chan! Felix!" You cried out feeling yourself draw closer with every pump of Felix's fingers and lick of Chan's tongue, it was like a thirsty puppy getting a drink of water for the first time.

"G-Gonna-" You couldn't even finish the words as your hips bucked up against Chan's tongue and Felix's fingers continued to get faster.

"Fuck! I'm cum-" You were cut off as you let out an intense moan of their names, Felix's tongue replaced his fingers as he continued to eat you out.

"F-Fuck," You whimpered as you came down from your high, Felix pulled away from you wiping his lips and smirking.

"You alright, kitten?" Felix questioned when he saw your legs shaking a little,

"I'm okay," You panted sitting up on the bed and looking at them, you had no idea how this was going to work and they could tell how nervous you were about it now.

"On all fours angel," You followed Felix's words and turned over so your ass was in the air for them,

"I'll let Chan-Hyung fuck you this once, and only once." He said in a warning tone but you knew the warning wasn't for you, you whined as Chan's fingers began to run along your folds.

"Still soaking wet for us angel?" You nodded weakly looking at Felix as he came around to the front of you, his cock still just as hard as before,

"W-Want you both to finish in my mouth," You wanted to tell them before you got so stuffed full of cock you wouldn't be able to talk.

"Fuck you smell amazing," Chan groaned running his cock along the entrance of your core making you whimper and look back at him.

"Want your cock, please." You begged him looking into his eyes as he slowly eased into you stretching you out as you moaned out his name.

"O-Oh shit," He moaned out slowly started to push in and out of you so he could ease it into you, you whimpered each time he reached your hilt. You could feel yourself stretching around his length,

"I feel a little left out here, kitten," Felix mumbled tapping your bottom lip with the head of his cock, you giggled spitting onto it and licking the lip. With every slowly thrust you slowly took Felix into your mouth, mimicking the way Chan would move on you.

"F-Faster Hyung, she's copying you." Felix hissed looking at you as he put his hands into your hair holding onto it tightly so he could have more control on you.

"Oh is baby being a copy cat?" Chan asked cockily as he began to snap in and out of you causing you to moan around Felix's length.

"Fuck!" Felix moaned out as you vibrated around him, pulling off to suck on the tip, swirling your tongue while you pumped the rest of him.

"Chan- Chan," You stuttered out as he continued to thrust in and out of you, grunting as he held onto your hips pulling you back roughly as he slammed in and out of you. A whimper left your mouth as you took Felix back into your mouth, sucking him just as quickly as Chan was fucking you.

"You're so fucking tight! I've heard you fucking almost five times a day, how are you so fucking tight?!" He moaned out as he continued to push in and out of you, grinding down into you as you tried to keep your focus on Felix.

"Y/n," Felix breathed out as you continued to bob your head around him, massaging his balls as you stared up at him through your eyelashes.

"Look at you giving me that innocent look, you love being fucked by Chan huh?" You nodded around him and he smirked, holding onto your head as he began to thrust into the back of your throat fucking your face while Chan fucked your cunt.

"F-Fuck!" You moaned as Felix pulled out of you for a second only to fill your mouth back up the next second,

"She's getting close, I can feel her clenching and pulsating around my cock, fuck." Chan groaned looking down at you as you continued to suck on Felix's cock.

"You wanna cum?" Felix questioned pulling out of you continuing to pump himself so you could answer,

"P-Please, I'm close." You hungrily took Felix back into your mouth and Chan's thrusts continued, reaching his hand down between your legs to rub circles on your clit sending you over the edge.

"Cum for us," He growled, you whimpered taking Felix from your mouth as you moaned out their names,

"Tell us how good you feel," Felix chuckled watching as you got close to your orgasm,

"F-Fuck I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" You cried out so loud, your orgasm ripped through your body as Chan continued fucking you through your orgasm. Pulling out of you when he felt your body relax.

"On the floor," You slid off the bed in and instantly knelt in front of Chan while Felix made his way over to you. You took them both into your hands and began pumping them, switching between the two with your tongue.

"Cum for me," You whimpered looking between them as they looked down at you,

"Ugh fuck," Felix grumbled holding onto one side of your head while Chan held onto the other one, cumming onto your tongue as you held your mouth open for them, swallowing everything you could.

"Mmm," You hummed reaching your hand up to your face to remove some of their cum from it and suck your fingers clean. The boys were panting heavily as they watched you do so both of them moaning,

"C-Can I have a tissue?" You giggled as they both scrambled to find some in Chan's room before coming back over to you and helping you clean up your face.

You were laid between them in the double bed, both of them with one arm over your stomach as you laid there happily.

"There's one thing I know for sure," Felix whispered as he saw you getting sleepy,

"Hmm?" You hummed not having the energy to give him real words just yet,

"What's that?" Chan hummed wanting to know what Felix was thinking,

"I don't want that to be the last time we do something like that," You giggled kissing him softly,

"M-Me neither," Both of you looked to Chan to see what he was thinking and he had a giant smile across his face,

"Then it won't be," He whispered leaning down to kiss both you and Felix on the forehead before telling you both to get to sleep for the night and for the first time in a while he thought he just sleep great for the first time in a while.

Tagline: @peachyhan @taestannie @jooniesdarlingdimples

632 notes · View notes

illyrian-lover-flower · 4 years ago

Text

You aren’t alone - we are alone together.

Hi, @autophobiaxx - guess what, I had been your secret snowflake🤗. Believe me when I say I had absolutely no idea what awaited me on this project, but i am really happy I got paired up with you and it turned out this way.

Your answers had always been so helpful and I might just want to pet myself on the shoulder with some lucky guesses I made. Hopefully this project had been for you as fun as for me, because I really enjoyed it. I actually found myself giddy through some days, not able to wait to ask you my next questions.

I do hope you like the first part of your present, the other two will follow soon - you get one on each Christmas holiday day. (That’s the reason why I had asked you to pick a number - you started with number 2. So, 3 will follow tomorrow and 1 after that.)

But now, I wish you a lot of fun - if a bit of my grammar isn’t as well as it should be, feel free to point it out - but please spare me a bit. English sadly isn’t my native language.

Greetings and definitely until tomorrow😘

Word count ( note not included) : 7. 380 words

________________________________________________________________

It was so long.

So long since she last saw the Shadowsinger - her heart longing to see him once again as she looked out into the endless sea of stars above of Velaris.

No glittering light left alone, always a close neighbour that shone with them close by. It was an endless chain so it seemed.

One that smiled down upon the fae of Velaris, her sister and her mate and even down to her - the lonely seer. That sat with a longing heart night for night, wrapped in a blanket, in front of her wide-open window. Hoping to hear even a silent beat of his mighty wings, hoping to see even a whisp of him seek comfort in the endless sea of dreams and light in the dead of night.

Perhaps he had always known she was watching, was too shy to show up in the sky which she could see so clearly. Not even the bright light of the always shining city able to taint the dark dome that was stretched above their heads.

It unsettled her. The seer's guts twisting and churning inside her as her heart made leap for leap, leaving a heavy rumble as it landed each time with the same wish: I want to see Azriel again.

Elain knew it was selfish of her to think such thoughts, but he was her friend. One that had been by her side since she first stumbled into this new life, showing her how to embrace this new part of the world she hated for so long, explained to her that it was completely fine to not be immediately ok with the ways of this world, but that it was also good to try those new possibilities it gave her from time to time.

And that she did, the Shadowsinger always an arm's reach away when she did so. A kind reassuring smile a constant companion when she looked up at him, those shining hazel eyes of his seemingly having never strayed from her.

He was there - always.

There was no way he would suddenly be gone. Her aching heart not able to believe even a crumb of this thought as she shook her head in disapproval at the night. Standing up on numb legs - for the twentieths evening in a row - from the chunky armchair. Hurt flooding her entire body as this aching wave of hurt crashed down from her heart.

He would not be there, she felt it, would not be there for Solstice.

Perhaps she should have asked Feyre of his stay, maybe even Rhys, but then again - these two loved to cloak themselves in silence. Everything that needed to be spoken only between the two of them, far away from the worried ears of the seer.

Feyre’s older sister - that was treated like a child.

A child, perhaps that was who she was, a selfish stubborn, weak child that waited for its friend to arrive, only to be disappointed that he would not attain, would not be there the next morning to celebrate the Solstice with her - leaving her alone in the shadows of a giant estate, that would this year not brim with happiness during the festivities.

If she would have wanted to ask Feyre or Rhys it was too late anyway. They were all off already - celebrating Feyre’s birthday and the longest night of the year, under the stars of Winter.

A great feast that was hosted by Vivianne and Kallias in order to acclaim Viviannes rise to the High lady of the Winter Court, though it was more going to be of a friendly gathering - that Elain had seen, in a vision, and with that she did not want to interfere.

Her absence could be considered as rude, but her presence wasn’t of any meaning - Nesta was the emissary of the Night Court and she would be there. So, there was no need for the defender of Velaris, to go with them and abandon her duty. Though Feyre had given that title to her out of pity - to make Elain feel more useful.

Allowing her to go to bed early as the stars continued to shine down in protection on the city, leaving her window wide open this night. The hope, that he would perhaps see her open window and come home, was all she needed to endure the cruel ripping of the cold harsh wind on her curtains in her chamber as she piled blanket for blanket atop of her.

Trying to let sleep claim her with its soothing blanket.

Though its blanket was nothing but wild and untamed tonight. Pictures of death and shadows, of chaos and blood infiltrating her mind. In her worry the seer was not able to part these pictures of violence into a vision or simply a nightmare.

She hoped for the last one – begged for it to be the last one. As she awoke screaming, cold sweat coating her skin like an old friend. It happened so often already in the past, she had hoped these fears would have gone away with the years of peace.

Yet it left her soaring, her eyes tearing in the darkness as she buried her face into her shacking palms. Letting the impressions behind her inner eye suffocate her - battle screams, bones breaking, cries of hurt heard among the heavy rain that poured down on the battlefield in the woods. Mud coating the already fallen warriors as hundreds of wing pairs peeked up from the carpet of death – Azriel's body lay dead and cold as a yarn of death weaved, among the other fallen warriors, into this endless rug of blood and rotting bodies.

A silent scream escaping Elain's shivering body as his eyes flooded her mind. Those soft warm eyes, that reminded her so much of the forests she had wandered upon, that never seemed to stray from her and knew when she was upset or needed a shoulder to cry on - were looking lifeless and cold into the face of an enemy he had taken to death with.

No!

This could not be the truth!

Azriel had offered so much in the last few centuries, had shed too much blood and fought too many battles throughout the years. It couldn’t be that the only thing the mother deemed for him as right was bloodshed and war and death.

Azriel, too, had a loving family with which he deserved to spend time with.

So, Elain begged the mother, that it simply was a nightmare that ripped sleep away from her. Her uneasiness making it impossible to just fall back asleep again.

She needed a distraction, something that could bring her thoughts far away from blood and cold lonely nights, in which she feared Azriel would never return.

‘Stop thinking like that!’ she tried to convince herself ‘Azriel is strong. Very strong - there is no way that he is suddenly going to die in battle. Is there?’

It was a childish thought; she knew that as she threw a blanket over her shivering shoulders. Elain knew how sudden death could bite someone, no matter how strong the one it chose to claim - after all, even a High Lord can find death in a battle. Rhys had proven that and even though he came back - letting the vibrating song of the living envelop him a lot longer- there were still nights in which she heard Feyre scream.

Some nights it was the scream from the battlefield Elain had heard. Other nights it was the same screams that ripped from her lungs, whenever she awoke from a nightmare.

Death had sought out her family too many times already. Feyre, Rhysand, her father, Nesta and she herself. Though it had been a human life that would have ceased -for the fae- in the blink of an eye anyway, it was Nesta’s and her life that had been thrown into the cauldron and was ripped away from them.

Leaving them dead empty in a new world.

In a new world, in which hope had been a rare asset, once they were made. Though Feyre had it, just like Rhys and Cassian, Morrigan and Amren and Azriel. Along with thousands of others that believed in the good and hoped for it to win.

And so, Elain realized, she could hope too - would hope - that he is going to return. Safe and sound.

The snow on the streets and rooftops of Velaris twinkling under the many streetlights like a thousand fallen stars, leading the lost warrior home. The billowing curtains -hopefully- beckoning him to come closer as the two heavy sheets of fabric waved at the night.

Beckoning him to come closer to his family.

Any part of his family.

Elain didn’t care to whom he would find his way, she just hoped he could find this way. Perhaps he already flew towards winter, having long crossed Day and Dawn on his way as he was now to spend some time with his brothers, friends and the female he so loved. Maybe his wings had flown him home to his mother, that awaited him with open arms and a warm smile on her threshold.

Though there was a selfish wish inside Elain’s worried chest as she moved on silent feet down the winged staircase. Her long cosy gown swishing past her naked feet, like a fluffy cloud of dawn. The cosy cream white blanket atop of her long peachy gown, the last sunrays of the day that caressed the fluffy clouds a last time for the day.

Sunshine incarnate.

That was what Azriel had once called her - by accident. His cheeks having taken on the same peachy colour as her gown, as she remembered this day with a smile on her lips. How he had rambled apology for apology silently under his breath.

This selfish wish inside her growing with each minute, as she searched for a distraction from the bloodshed she had seen, only minutes ago.

Elain Archeron, seer of the Night Court and defender of Velaris, wished for the shadowsinger, the Spymaster of the Night Court, her friend, to come home and see her sunshine glow in the darkness of night.

She wished for him to be here. Left her window wide open in the hopes of this selfish wish.

Wandering with a heavy heart, a soft hand placed atop of this traitorous thing as she walked circle for circle in the foyer. Her naked feet silently swashing step for step over the cold marble as a grandfather clock, in the far away corner of the sitting room, called her out of her endless wandering and wondering. Announcing to her the begin of the new day - Solstice - as it struck twelve.

Finally woken from her trance she saw nothing.

Nothing that came even close to a Solstice decorated house. Garlands - along with the other decorations- stored safely away in the far back of a closet.

With a huff did Elain start her hunt for the almost exploding cardboard box - the faerie lights all around the house turned on as she dug into closet for closet.

Only in a little chamber, where she needed to dive through thousands of papers and weapons she found it. Her nightgown and the blanket covered in a veil of dust as she wanted to lift the box triumphally up but let it fall instead, her petite arms not able to hold up all of the heavy weight. Fir branches, garlands, mistletoes, little wooden figures as well as a heavy little wooden box - raining down on her.

All far older than the things that were normally used, so it seemed, as cobwebs danced down on her. Covering her honey golden hair under a hat of grey nets. A cough escaping her lungs, just before a sneezing fit took over – the whirling dust having played a bit too much with her nose trills.

With a, for her unlikely, groan did she bent down to pick everything up. Her form slightly shivering in the coldness of the small chamber, even with the heavy blanket around her.

how could she always be that clumsy? It was a wonder that she hadn’t suddenly tripped in her garden yet. Accidently ripping out all the plants she had planted with such careful hands - that were now dust covered. As she loaded garland for garland, figure for figure into the cardboard box.

Until she saw a little wooden case - engraved with twines and flowers, so it seemed. A heavy layer of dust hiding the once shiny wood underneath it.

Who had forgotten it here?

It looked really old and somehow bits of the wood seemed to be worn out - along with the clank on the backside of the musical box. The once shiny metal having taken on the colour of a deep grey.

Somehow this little box was fascinating her the little rusty lock, that kept the music box tightly shut, seemingly calling for her to open it. A lullaby on its own as she listened into the silence. Her eyes straying ever so often from the little box in her petite hands, searching for the little key that would fit the lock.

But no matter how hard she searched for it - it was nowhere to be found.

No paper hid it underneath, no layer of dust cloaked it, the cardboard box also never having swallowed a key. A sigh escaped her lips as she stood up on wobbly feet, tugging the little wooden box carefully away beneath all the fir branches in the carton.

The way towards the door a fight on its own again as swords, arrows, bows, daggers and papers cluttered her way. Cold steel meeting Elain’s naked feet more than once as her eyes could not see what was underneath the large box in her hands.

But somehow she managed to move across the room and finally leave it again - no blade having cut her. A dusty hell which she would probably clean later throughout the week. She needed to get the time over anyway.

And with this thought in mind, bloodshed and war long forgotten, she started her magic. Transforming this cold lonely house - within only one hour- into a glittering sea of Solstice decorations.

She might have been alone and would be for the rest of the week, but that did not mean she couldn’t decorate the house. No one would take the decorations and the cosy feeling of Solstice from her, as she lightened the fireplace. the happy crackling of the fire suddenly reminding her of snaping bones.

Bones of the Spymaster that ... . No!

She would not go there, would not let her mind wander into these dark parts of her mind again as she tried her hardest to overcome these blood-filled thoughts within the last hour.

The seer simply needed to distract herself further. There would still be a later time in which she could enjoy watching the flames lick happily at the wood it feasted on -letting warmth embrace her instead of fear.

And just in case fear wanted to overwhelm her again - she needed some nerve food. The plenty of cookies she wanted to bake this year, somewhere abandoned in the back of her mind. But the thought of searching in her endless messy cook books for a cookie recipe unmotivated her, so Elain decided to go for something easy.

A recipe she already baked with her mother in the innocent days of her childhood. The smell of freshly baked butter cookies always connected to the cosiest time of the year. Stitched into her mind - just like the recipe itself.

Already on giddy feet hurrying into the large kitchen, she made a mental list of supplies she needed: butter, sugar, vanilla sugar, flour, an egg, a bowl, a rolling pin ... of course, a baking trey with baking paper and some cookie cutters.

Perhaps she could find some old chocolate too.

Even though they tasted - for her at least- almost better without gloss and sprinkles than with them, but Feyre liked those with chocolate gloss - so doing a bit of glazing won't hurt.

With a giggle on her lips and a grandfather clock in the corner that struck two, she hurriedly turned off all the lights in the house. Baking those divine smelling cookies only under the cosy light of some candles. The scent of cinnamon, oranges, fir trees and freshly baked butter cookies soon enveloping the lonely quiet house. A cold wind from upstairs occasionally getting lost in the kitchen, letting the fire of the candles dance in the dark - deep shadows running along the walls whenever wind and fire danced.

It made Elain only smile more as she baked trey for trey - tiredness not even a whisper in her body as her thoughts were preoccupied.

‘I wonder what Az and the others are doing right now.’

A humourless chuckle escaped her as she rolled the rolling pin further through the next dough. It was past two, either way they were drinking or sleeping.

And what did she do? Baking butter cookies in the middle of the night, because a wave of nostalgia crashed down on her, a nightmare kept her awake and she felt lonely!

Just how she always wanted to spent the Solstice, a family festivity without the family she thought she had.

It hurt to know that. Hurt to know that they were all laughing and celebrating, exchanging presents - while she was stuck here. Perhaps she should have asked if she could come along, but then again - she would have probably ruined it for them.

Her family seemed to think that they could never speak on normal terms with her. They never knew that she, too, could speak like a normal fae being - not like one that was always stuck in the meeting of some lords or ladies, a stick shoved up her ass.

“Holly mother!” she groaned as Elain rubbed tiredly at her eyes, maybe she just wanted to get rid of the tears that started to whelm up there. Her heart having finally taken enough hurt and damage as she crumbled - just like the butter cookie she shoved into her mouth.

Alone - that was what she was. Always meant to be left behind - protected- like they liked to call it, but the seer couldn’t take the isolation anymore. Each tear that ran down her cheeks, a butter cookie she ate.

Some were still too hot, but she didn’t feel it as she stood at the floured kitchen counter and stole cookie for cookie from the treys. Those sweet little stars, hearts and smiley cookies the only things that comforted her, as she braced her arms next to a half-eaten trey. Her streaming tears luckily only hitting the empty part of the counter top - she didn’t want the cookies to become mushy, but then again - next to her - who would eat them?

‘Snap out of it!’ was all Elain could repeat over and over again in her mind. Deep shivering breaths shattering her lungs while she did so. This wave of hurt from perhaps, two, three hours ago, burying her deep in the tides once again.

She had overcome this already once she could do it again, tried Elain to convince herself, but there was this dark feeling inside her - that mocked her, laughed at her, pulled her always back down into the raging tides of her mind - each time a bit deeper.

It was this dark mocking voice inside her that spoke as she opened her tightly shut eyes again, those emotionless eyes having once again returned to her as she eyed one of the butter cookies “What am I doing here?”

And just as she thought the bells of the grandfather clock had drowned her out, there was this deep voice that rumbled along the dark gongs.

“That I’d like to know too.” it was a mere whisper of silence, but never would her pointed ears overhear his raven voice. Her head snapping immediately up to meet his confused hazel eyes. They looked paler, but at the same time more awake than ever as they found her widened ones.

A breathless choke escaping her as she saw him standing there in the doorway - wings tightly closed behind him, a black tunic stretching over his broad chest and shadows dancing behind him.

Completely unharmed -just a bit dishevelled- his hair more tousled and a light stubble spread over his sculpted cheeks, but he was fine.

Completely unharmed.

The seer couldn’t contain her happiness as Azriel voice had pulled her out of her trance - a wave of relief flooding her as she stormed around the kitchen counters and jumped right into his arms.

One of her cookie crumble smeared cheeks was pressed against his warm chest, spreading crumbs on the clean black fabric while her ears listened to the calm thrumming of his heartbeat - a sniffle escaping her as she looked, through a tear cloaked vision, up at him.

A genuine wide smile stretching across her cheeks, as he looked down on her.

Azriel looked baffled at first, but a shy little smile spread on his lips too, once he heard Elain’s hoarse voice. “You are finally home again.” “I am finally home again, yes and thank you very much for the open window.” The seer couldn’t contain herself, couldn’t think about any consequences as she hugged him even tighter.

Azriel. Azriel. Azriel.

Her mind chanted his name over and over again. A warm feeling sprouting once again in her heart as he softly whipped away cookie crumb for cookie crumb on her cheeks - those scarred hands of his as gentle as any feather - as she silently laughed at him through streaming tears; “Please, Az, never do that again. Promise me, please.”

“What shall I never do again?” a puzzled look crossed his features as his thumb stopped abruptly its whipping, before realization dawned on him - though it was the wrong one as he tried to pull his hands away - already searching for an apology.

But Elain wouldn’t have this tonight. And so, she lifted her own hands and laid them carefully atop of his - pressing these warm palms of him back onto her salty cheeks, a fierce look in her teared eyes as his searched hers for answers.

“Please, Az, never again - you hear me - never again stay away from me for almost a whole month without at least a little note. Please, I was worried sick.”

He nodded, even though there was confusion written across his face as his brows furrowed, before he spoke. The ravenous sound of his voice finally caressing her ears again “I had left you a message though.”

“Really?” The Spymaster nodded curtly as his face turned firm.

Those sinful lips of his pressed into a thin line while he held onto her petite body. His shadows turning slightly wilder as they seemed to roll off of him in waves - a sign that he was trying to hide his rage. Elain had noticed that a long time ago, that he seemed to hide in his shadows once he was close to showing too many emotions - it was a way to keep him safe.

But worry still piled in the seers' stomach as she looked up at him - had a mission gone wrong that he needed to report?

“Where are the others?” he suddenly asked, his voice pressed, as this cold voice hissed in laughter at her again.

Wasn’t it obvious that he came for them? Not for a crippled thing like you! It hissed at her, eating up all her hope and what was left of her to make her happy - the smile she put on now not the genuine one she shared with him.

It was the same emotionless grimace she put on when she first tried to be fae. Her voice sounding even to her empty.

“They are in Winter. I’d thought you already knew that they were going to celebrate Solstice and Feyre’s birthday this year there. Vivianne and Kallias are also going to celebrate Viviannes rise to the High Lady of the Winter Court with them.”

Hurt suddenly flashed through Azriel’s eyes - most likely at the sound of her voice. He needed to swallow hard. It looked like he had trouble to deal with the information's - while Elain had trouble to deal with all the questions swirling around in her mind.

“I am so sorry Elain.” “For what?”

Azriel breathed in deep through his nose, before he pulled her - in the flash of a second- into the soothing veil of shadows around him. Crashing her face once more into his chest as quiet whispers surrounded her - one of them was his voice; “I left a message to Rhys, Feyre, Mor and Cassian - I even left a letter, that said I would be gone for at least the next month -perhaps even longer- at both of their desks.”

Betrayal, hurt, it all clashed through her as she heard these words. He trusted them all - just not her! He -

“El, please hear me out before you judge.”

A firm nod was all she could give him.

“I had asked them to tell you, that you don’t need to worry. I just wanted to clear my head off a bit, ...” Long silence enveloped them before he - for once- broke the silence, the shadows almost drowning out his whispered words “... I wouldn’t have been able to go once I would have seen your worry, your sadness, but I couldn’t stay either. Couldn’t endure to be around her when I hadn’t figured out yet what she is to me. So, I had asked them to tell you -had hoped they would- but apparently ...”

The rumble she felt in his chest as he growled the last part could have competed with one of the heaviest thunderstorms in the mortal realms - he would surely leave just as much damage in his rage.

He trusted them and they -somehow- betrayed this trust of his. Hopefully they would have a good excuse for this, she thought as Elain hugged her Shadowsinger tighter. This wonderful, insane driving scent of his coating and enveloping her like a coat again -the cosiest cloak she ever wore.

“It’s fine now. You are home again. Safe and sound – that is what matters.”

This time he was the one that could only nod. His eyes hidden somewhere above of her as she was still pressed into his warmth. “Do you perhaps need help with those cookies of yours?”

Elain's giggle -that washed through his body like a wildfire- was all he needed to smile. Her shining eyes finding him once she had wrestled herself free. “With eating them, yes. But I can do the cleaning alone, maybe you could search for a blanket. Feyre always seems to hide the cosiest ones mother knows where.”

A dark chuckle rumbled through the house as they both began their tasks in silence. “Are you sure that it’s Feyre who hides them and not Amren?” “I could bet a cookie trey on that!”

Needless to say - she lost that cookie trey.

The kitchen starting to look normal again, while Azriel had found a cosy blanket - large enough for the two of them - hers from before abandoned somewhere on the couch.

A silky short black hair peeking out from the folds of the blanket. This victorious smirk on his lips so insufferable and yet beautiful, that she could not help herself as to groan silently – while he placed two glasses of wine on the small side table. Already tugged in under the blanket.

Azriel laughed as he saw how Elain balanced ten fully packed boxes of butter cookies into the room - handing one to him: “Your won trey of cookies.”, letting the others practically fall onto the wooden table as she grabbed her glass of wine and snuggled under the blanket too.

His warmth, the warmth of the fire and the blanket enveloping her as he carefully lay one wing over the sofa lean - pulling Elain in tighter ever so softly.

A feeling of peace washing through her while they watched the flames dance. The shadows to their feet occasionally twitching up to them, to inform their master of the safety they were in – never leaving before brushing the cheek of the seer, that stuffed herself with butter cookies again.

Nursing already the second glass of wine, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier – her spinning head slowly sliding from his shoulder – sleep finally seemed to claim her.

Those golden curls of hers soon spilling in his lap, as she fell onto it sleepily – the glass somehow still safely in her hand, before it was taken from her.

A soft feeling suddenly stroking her head in lazy movements - making her want to purr like a cat. She didn’t precisely start to purr, but she couldn’t resist to nuzzle closer into the soft touch of his hands.

Azriel’s soft hands that were always in reach for her, that always were so gentle with her. His touch -even if it just was a whisper of it- leaving her skin, her blood, her heart alight. This wildfire burning and yet somehow saving her.

Elain was never sure of what to think of this wildfire inside her whenever he was near, but never too close. Now she thought she knew what it was, this burning flame longing for him.

Longing for his attention, his words, his touch – his love.

And somehow, she thought, she had found it all tonight as she was nuzzled into him. This burning untamed and twisting fire suddenly turning into a cosy little ball of sunshine that warmed her skin and her heart, like the sun rays in the days of Spring and Summer did.

It was like coming home – or in her case having home come to her.

Her mind finally catching up to her heart, to finally understand those feelings. Those softly blooming feelings, that would stay in an eternal Spring.

“Az?” she suddenly asked. Her eyes closed softly as her smiling face was turned to him, his hands – thank the mother- still buried in her mass of hair. “Hm?”

“Can I ask you something personal?”

He hesitated for a moment, before he nodded. Though her heart ached and her throat was desert dry, she needed to ask him, needed to know. “Who did you mean when you said you couldn’t be around her?”

“Morrigan.”

“Why that? Has she done something bad, did she hurt you?”

“Not really El, it’s just – somehow she helped me realize something and I wasn’t able to deal with it as well as I thought.”

To say Elain was never more curious than now would have been a lie. She was always curious when it came to the shadowsinger, but as the tension flooded her – curiosity never felt heavier than now.

Her wondering eyes opening slowly to see his far away gaze fixed on a strand of fire that danced along a log.

Tension resting on his shoulders as he looked stiff like a stone. The silence pushing down on them as neither dared to speak, the heavy gong of the grandfather clock suddenly awakening them from their daydreams.

A yelp escaped Elain as she flinched at the sound, an uneasy feeling waking up her entire body again. Gravity pulling at her gown as soon as she was fully woken and struggled to get a hold on the warrior. The soft rug in front of the couch luckily cushioning the fall a bit, though it didn’t prevent the cookie boxes to fall down on her.

A silent,almost drowned out clicking landing next to her ear.

For a moment she sat there, lay there, with baffled eyes between the small space of couch and table. A loud laugh erupting from her as soon as she realized her situation, the heavy rumble of Azriel’s ravenous chuckle joining hers until he noticed the small high-pitched noise – that played to his feet.

A furrow settling between his thick eyebrows.

“El, are you alright?” With a huff she took the scarred hand of the shadowsinger-her love- and pulled herself up again.

The tasty baked goods laying forgotten and cracked in the boxes on the floor. Just not the little music box – which the shadowsinger picked up with great interest as something dawned in his eyes.

Recognition – Elain realized with wonderous eyes. Her petite curious form taking up the space next to him again

It was his music box!

“Azriel are you alright?”

He could only turn his -so incredibly- happy face to her. Those hazel eyes of his almost drowning in tears as he looked like a little kid on Solstice that had received the present of his dreams. Holding it in his shaking scarred hands like a sacred treasure.

Elain always knew Azriel was never a male of many words, but as he lay the delicate box in his lap and crashed her entire being with one hug – she was never more amazed than now. Warmth spreading through her. Elains bones and her very blood singing of the feelings that were weaved into her being.

Home.

She thought again. Azriel was her home – even though he might not have realized it yet, she would gladly wait for him to see -perhaps- home in her one-day too. But maybe he already did that.

The fire his body gave over to hers, more than just his body heat. There was so much in this hug, as his face was buried in her shoulder. Tears dripping down on the pale skin of her shoulder as she carefully hugged him too.

Those soft feelings of her’s hopefuly showing him everything her heart could offer.

A sniffle of him, pulling them apart. The question of why he hugged her, of why he cried – lost on the tip of her tongue as he beat her to it.

“This music box, it belonged to my mother.”he fumbled for something around his neck, pulling at a long black bond – to which a little rusted key was attached. Fitting perfectly inside the lock.

A beautiful little melody beginning to play as soon as he turned the crank a few times, soft petals of a delicate Violet opening as it took slow turns - amazement written across Elain’s face.

Azriel only smiled at it. The story behind the little music box wrestling itself free.

“It belonged to my mother. She gave it to me when I was dropped into Windhaven – it was next to the clothes I had on me the only thing I possessed. She gave it to me, telling me: ‘As long as this melody plays, there is hope that we will live one day in freedom.’ And I believed her – turning the crank each night before I went to bed and each morning before I went to training.”

A low chuckle rumbled through him “When Rhysand’s mother picked me up and gave most of her attention to me, instead of Rhys and Cass – they weren’t the fondest of me. And when they found out about the music box - they took it from me.

Rhys words echoed still for many months in my head: ‘Isn’t the attention of my mother good enough for you or why are you always listening to this baby toy?’. Back then, when they took it, I had not let a single word slip from my lips for the next two months as I plotted out how I could make them give it back to me, but soon after these months of silence did my mother come free.

She had earned her freedom again, while I still fought for mine. But I was so incredibly happy, that I had lost thought to the music box. Only when my mother had asked me four centuries ago if I still had it – I remembered it again. Guilt had filled my guts as I told her I had lost it, but she only smiled and told me, once I had it I should not keep it.”

Azriel’s eyes never strayed from the frayed wood as a deep chuckle erupted from him, a barely audible whisper following “I hadn’t known what she meant back then, but now I do.” Before he turned to Elain.

Telling her the last parts of this story with such sincerity, that the pure look of his eyes into hers, had her warm and cosy. Her insides carving to be with him, to just hug him, but she wanted to see him tell this story. Did not want to miss one of his loving gazes, so this had to do – her hands softly cupping his as they held and listened to the music together.

“Even though it confused me that I should give it away - I still asked Rhys where they hid it, but he didn’t remember. I remember that all three of us Cassian, Rhys and I, had turned the hut in the mountains, in Windhaven and the town house in Velaris upside down. No one of us even heard a tiny tone of the melody and eventually gave up on it – they did at least. Somehow, I was never able to lose hope –probably an echo of the melody that still played in my ears.”

Soft chuckles escaped him a final time before he closed the lid, put the tiny key with the black leather bond atop of it and carefully lay it into Elain’s hands, wonder lacing her gaze as she looked down at it.

Azriel’s next innocent words held so much meaning, yet he only whispered them. Shy hazel eyes boring into her tearing doe ones.

“Elain Archeron, I am so incredibly thankful you found it for me. Though it doesn't come close to the feeling of happiness and joy that erupts inside of my chest whenever I see you. Your voice alone a lullaby to me. One that calms me, sooths me and somehow always manages to be there for me when I need you. A friend.”

A sudden pang of hurt crossed her heart, but she smiled nonetheless. If she could make Azriel happy as a friend, she would be happy too – would take joy in seeing him happy for the rest of eternity. Even though her traitorous heart started just tonight to hope for his love. Hoped that those scarred palms of his would hold and nurse her heart for the next millennia's – until the mother decided it was time for the seer to go.

“So, I thought.” he suddenly said. Snapping her out of her cruel train of thoughts. Capturing her eyes- her attention- once again.

“I had always thought you were a friend, had always thought the safety, the lightness I felt around you was the same with my brothers. I had for more than five centuries believed love was supposed to be a burning thing – one that burned and feasted upon feelings until one day nothing but ashes were left, but you proved me wrong. Made me realize what love is.”

Elain was speechless, her eyes having long brimmed over with tears as she held the little box in shaking palms.

Her heart realizing what it meant to him, what he gave her.

His heart. He gifted her his heart.

Those scarred hands, having placed it shyly in her hands – while they now whipped her tears away again. Her heart beating so unbelievably fast as he placed his forehead softly atop of hers. “When Mor sought me out at the beginning of the month – I think I already started to realize that my heart had long fallen for you, that I had fallen for you. Mor came to tell me about her preferences of females and in all honesty it didn’t really hurt.”

Elain nodded. One week after Azriel was gone the golden female had it declared officially. The seer had always respected the Morrigan, though on that evening she had been slightly angry with her – thinking she chose to tell this then when the one that effected it the most wasn’t there. The fact that Elain now found out that she had sought him out a week earlier already – made her feel guilty.

She hadn’t known that. But she came to realize something. “You had left to get your thoughts sorted out.” Azriel only nodded.

“These twenty days I had spent away from you made me realize the longing I felt. The longing to be close to your heart.”

Elain only smiled at him.

Her tear-stained vision seeing him. Seeing how the reflections of orange and red danced in those soft black hairs of his, every vein in his wings seeable as the fire shone through it. Her eyes, so it seemed, able to see his wildly beating heart when she gave him back the box.

His form grew stiff as he held the old wood back in his hands, but Elain kept the key.

The key to his heart.

And he understood. A blinding smile erupting on his face as he took the box back. Elain’s sheepish voice a mere whisper when she asked him: “Is it selfish of me – to want to be the key to your heart?”

Azriel didn’t answer that, not with words at least as his lips crashed hers.

Joy and happiness claiming him, making him act before thinking of the consequences. Though, he thought with a smile, as Elain’s lips pillowed his: I will verry much enjoy these consequences.

But there were no consequences. All he got was Elain’s unbelievably big heart – that beat in the same thumping rhythm as his as their chests were pressed together.

Elain’s petite body laying atop of his as her love completely overwhelmed him. The realization of that had her giggling into the kiss, until they broke apart. Heavy breaths fanning over each other's lips as they gaped for air. Elain fully bursting out laughing once she realized what she did.

Her bell like laugh echoing throughout the house, like a warm breeze of wind in summer as she hugged the shadowsinger – her shadowsinger.

Those pointed ears – which she had cursed for so long- listening to the song of his heartbeat while his scarred hands – to which she gave so much admiration – drew calming circles on her back as they lay on the couch.

The fire crackling, the cookies and the wine abandoned and the music box and the key safely put aside on the table. Their souls finally having found the way together as their hearts were finally able to embrace the other fully.

Their heated lips finding purchase on those on the other one ever so often as they showered in silent kisses on the eyebrow, the forehead, the nose, the cheek, the hands – leaving the skin of each other alight with every wet kiss.

Trust, love, adoration and so many other emotions weaved into the air between them as they fell asleep at the struck of five – not even the loud gong of the grandfather clock able to pull them apart from their little world.

Perhaps, they thought, it was good that their family wasn’t home – like that there was no need to be silent.

And neither was.

The house having long brimmed over with love as each of their family members came back. Standing baffled in the foyer as they watched sunshine and shadows dance, or rather chase. A play of tag having erupted between the two, while giggles and chuckles flooded the house.

Only a coughing fit of Cassian was able to make them look at their family. Mor and Amren smirking at what they was displayed infront of them, while Rhys and Feyre were left speechless. Nesta looked like as if she either wanted to stab Az or puke on the floor at the sweet silliness with which they chased each other.

All of them having witnessed the shower of kisses in which Elain drowned Azriel as she got him. Though he did not seem to mind. Her lips still pressed against his cheek as they were caught.

But before even one of them could speak up – Azriel glared at them all and winnowed away together with his love.

_____________________________________________________________

I hope you all enjoyed that one. Though I do admit it had hurt a bit to portray Rhys as such an a-hole.

But I needed someone that was close to Az and could play a meaner rolle and since we all know that both, Cass and Rhys, had troubles to get along with Az at first I chose Rhys, because he could winnnow stuff away.

Anyway, here is a small hint for tomorrows fic:Something little comes around ;)

Taglist: @heirofthrnightcourt004

#acotar secret snowflake #elriel solstice #elain angst #elain archeron #azriel #sjm #elriel fluff #elriel first kiss #mentions of the IC #elriel alone at home #Merry Chrismas

28 notes · View notes

saltys-writings · 5 years ago

Text

Got7 as Cats

Repost because the old one didn’t show in the tags!

More parts~

JB:

black and white kitty of average size

big and friendly amber eyes

has a completely white tail with only the tip being black

which looks super funny when he’s in his favourite sleeping place up on your wardrobe and the only thing you see of him is his tail slowly swaying from one side to the other or twitching if he has an exciting dream

likes sitting on your grandparents’ old record player while it’s playing, slowly spinning on top of the record and watching the world around him pass by slowly

gets fed up with it and jumps up as the tone arm keeps moving closer to the middle, preventing him from comfortably sitting on the black record

also likes sprawling out on pianos or rubbing his face against the guitar standing around in your room

in general he seems very drawn to everything that has to do with music

sleeps little compared to other cats

usually he’ll just laze around with his eyes half open, watching you whenever he can

he loves watching you do whatever and sometimes he’ll get up and after stretching thoroughly and yawning, he’ll silently walk over to you to bump his head against your chin or nose

actually he doesn’t care much about other humans or animals, but with you he’s more welcoming

trusts you a big deal, and you’re really the only person who he likes being petted or brushed by

usually when other people try to touch him he’ll just get up and walk away to find a more calm and silent place

hates kids and dogs (=anything that’s loud) a lot and will hide away where not even you can find him if there’s either of the two around

very behaved and doesn’t bite or scratch

doesn’t play much either, he’s really just more of a cat that will roam around in your place and give it that feel of “here lives a cat”

but if you want excitement out of your relationship with your cat he isn’t the one for you

Mark:

white and light brown kitty

super friendly

also super sleepy

will direct 110% of his attention to you for the 2 hours he’s awake each day

remembers pretty quickly when you get home each day and his inner clock wakes him up just before you do

so when you turn the key in the doorlock he’ll come running immediately, meowing loudly to greet you

he’ll follow you around for a while and walk right in front and in between your feet

and if you don’t pet him he’ll get REALLY whiny and will spread out on your stuff as soon as you’re trying to do literally anything

likes offering you his soft white belly to pet and will usually let you touch it without problems

eats nothing but chicken (and bread)

whenever you have bread on the table, on a counter, or in any other place in your house he can reach, he will sit down next to it and start licking it until it has this really soaked spot full of cat saliva

but even when he does this you can’t really get mad at him because he’ll just turn around and look at you with his big friendly green eyes and start purring

tends to react very strongly to being petted on his back and especially on his lower back where the tail starts

always pushes his whole body into your hand when you touch him there and the tip of his tail will bend forwards to signal that he loves this and please keep petting right there

very sociable around humans, but also likes hanging out with other animals

in general he’s very curious about everything and will watch other cats, dogs, birds, small animals like hamsters or bunnies, and even horses with great interest

really just gets along well with literally anyone and everyone - no matter if human or animal - loves him

Jackson:

tabby with a striped pattern

even as a cat he is lowkey ripped has a strong build

only fights other cats as a form of play though

usually when he gets seriously pissed he’ll just hiss and arch his back and then backwards tiptoe the shit out of there

loves to be carried around on your shoulders

he’ll really get cranky if you don’t let him up there for a while

also loves sitting there while you do stuff like cooking, studying, watching TV, etc.

never interferes with your activities though and just watches with great interest

loves playing with anything but his toys

especially strings and other long and dangly objects of any kind are dangerous with him

he WILL try to catch and kill that thing, even if it is already very much dead

give him a piece of yarn and he’ll be occupied for

...about 5 minutes - who am I kidding?

has to be played with actively or he’ll get bored and start taking your home apart

so you better tire him out everyday before you go to sleep or you won’t recognize your place when you wake up the next morning

whenever he uses his litter box, chances are you’ll find litter up to five meters away from the box

that doesn’t mean he isn’t clean, he’s just... not very fast with cleaning himself

so instead of making sure all the litter gets off his fur right where his box is, he’ll shake it off over time while walking elsewhere

don’t let him out or he’ll break into other people’s homes and try to steal their food

he once got himself locked in a basement for a whole night and only got back out because his meows were so loud that they woke up the neighbours

a family also once returned him to you, with their two daughters crying because they totally wanted to keep the kitty

in the end you had to promise them to let them come visit him once every two weeks

the upside is that they always bring along catfood and you have to spend a little less money on that

Jinyoung:

ginger cat

has a scar on his nose that another cat rightfully gave him when he was growing up

is - in short - a real jerk of a cat

also MOOD SWINGS

will be the cuddliest uwu bundle of fur ever one second, and then the most furious monster you ever saw the next

HATES other cats

really, he despises them

will usually sit next to them, appearing calm and just watching them, and then out of the blue punch them square in the face

you think he’s still salty that he got that scar on his nose years ago

the type to pee into your shoes for no reason

or throw up in the microwave if you forget to close it

really, whenever you take something out of the microwave or put something in you need to do so fast, because by the time you’re done chances are he’s already standing next to you, glaring up at the microwave with all the hate in his eyes he can muster

keeps staring when you turn it on and will get ready to jump as soon as it gives the signal that it’s done

usually he’ll just jump for it when you open it, so you have to keep him from reaching it by blocking the way with your arm (which he will of course hold onto with his claws)

loses interest when it’s closed and it becomes apparent you’re not using it anymore anytime soon

what does he have against the microwave anyway...?

likes sunbaths a lot

surprisingly also likes water - it hasn’t been just one or two times you had to throw him out of the bathtub when you were getting ready to take a nice relaxing bath after a tough day at work or school

doesn’t like being touched much, but if you’ve lived with him for long enough he will permit you to give his back two or three quick strokes once a day

also likes going out to hunt and will usually bring a small mouse or a tiny gecko back home and offer it to you as a sign of his acceptance of your existence

Youngjae:

long haired kitty with chubby cheeks

giant paws that look like he could seriously hurt you with them, but in reality they’re just really soft

will use his claws for playing excessively though

likes lazing around and playing on the floor the most

usually very careful not to hurt you, but he can get a little too into playing and end up scratching you if you don’t pay attention

likes being scratched behind his ears and under his chin a lot but won’t hesitate to bite if you even think about getting near his fluffy belly

tends to have a lot of mats there though, and those can get quite uncomfy for him, which will in turn irritate him and when he’s in a bad mood he’ll bite you if you’re just standing next to him

so you’ll have to let him bite you one way or the other aksjflksa

you don’t realize just how huge his mouth is until he’s all comfy in a sunny spot at your place and lets out a big yawn, showing off his teeth and pink kitty tongue

sleeps literally anywhere

sprawls out on the floor in the most inconvenient place ever and won’t move for a solid five hours so you have to step over him all the time, because he will definitely not wake up from this nap anytime soon

your bed is a very beloved sleeping place of his as well, especially your pillow, because it smells so nicely like you uwu

he’s usually awake and roaming your place during the night, but will sneak into your bedroom and curl up next to your pillow when it’s almost time for you to get up

will never loudly beg for food ever

instead he’ll just stare up at you and follow you around, bumping into your legs over and over again until you feed him

not picky about food, but loves fish a lot

please don’t give him catnip unless you want a hyperactive hairy high and snappy cat scattering the catnip all over your place kasfjlkas

BamBam:

thin, elegant cat with veryveryvery short, light-colored fur and amber eyes

you put a collar with a golden nametag on him after you got him

you thought he’d hate it and try to get rid of it like most other cats, but turns out he loves it

loves being looked at and will puff out his chest on purpose when people are watching him

kinda gets along with other cats, though they will usually avoid him mostly and he won’t make much of an effort to approach them either

it’s all about coexistence in apathy lol

only eats gourmet food (might be because you never really tried feeding him... you know... normal cat food...)

doesn’t go out much, but time and time again he likes venturing outside to take a short walk through your garden

but will return back inside soon because the many toys and the huge cat tree you bought him are more interesting to him

plus they’re familiar so he can really relax there

likes being petted especially on his head and loves scratches behind his big ears

likes sitting in inconvenient places - like on the box the mailman only just brought and you took your eyes off of for a second to lock the door, or the pack of take-out sushi you just bought, or your new shoes that you wanted to wear to tonight’s party

at least he can’t get hair on any of it

speaking of sushi, he loves watching you eat that and then look at you with half closed eyes, putting a paw on your arm to signal that he wants to try some

will start kneading your arm and purring loudly if you don’t give him any

tried smelling the pickled ginger that comes with it once and almost threw up on the floor as a reaction

but he’s also still Bambam, so sometimes, in the middle of the night when you’re still up you will find him lying in a corner of the living room in an impossible position with his body twisted in ways you didn’t know a cat could move, and derping at you with his tongue hanging out of his mouth sideways and one of his eyes being half open while he snores loudly yes he sleeps like this

Yugyeom:

grey little kitty that looks big because of his relatively long fur

blue eyes since birth that everyone loves him for

they also help him fool people into thinking he’s a cat you’d totally wanna own

honestly though, if you don’t have a bunch of extra time on your hands you really don’t want to own him

needs so much attention

acts like he’s dying every time you have to leave home and you can hear his cries even after closing the door behind you

is also overjoyed and will start climbing your legs to make sure you’re never leaving again after you come back (even if you were just away for like a minute to get the mail)

you really need to train him a lot to be able to stay away for a longer amount of time

whenever you’re home you always have this feeling in your gut that you’re being watched

turn around and chances are you’ll find him sitting on some surface across the room, watching you intently

comes running up to you for pets and cuddles at least ten times a day

the upside of this is that he will never ever feel overstimulated and lash out at you for petting him too much

the downside is that you can barely do stuff because chances are if he isn’t watching you, he’ll be in the way, sprawling all over your things and your arms and then still expect you to be able to pet him

you can often come to an agreement though, having him doze off in your lap and petting him with one hand, so you can at least use the other hand to do things

if you take your second hand away for a while he’ll gently put his paw on it to signal that you should keep petting him

loud

so damn loud

will meow and whine and cry all day every day if he isn’t getting enough attention

also has a crippling fear of the vet

whenever you have to take him there you need to hold him the whole time, or he’d just nyoom out of there and hide somewhere narrow where neither you nor the vet nor his assistance nor any other human being can reach him

sometimes in the middle of the night he will meow in front of your bedroom door because he wants cuddles right now

better let him in or he’ll start scratching your door and you’ll have marks all over it by morning

78 notes · View notes

galactic-magick · 5 years ago

Text

Everyone Deserves a Home: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Summary: You go to the animal shelter with Steve at Christmastime.

Rating: G

Words: 1200+

Warnings: literally just fluff. This is hallmark level cheesiness tbh

Author’s Notes: I’m way too in love with Steve Harrington. I already have two more holiday fic ideas for him. I probably need help but at least I’m getting some decent fic out of it right?

You hop into the passenger’s seat of your boyfriend’s car, instinctively leaning in for a kiss. He smiles against your lips and doesn’t pull away until you do.

“So, where to?” he asks.

“I heard the animal shelter is having an open house today, that might be fun,”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve grins and puts a hand on your shoulder as he backs out of the driveway.

This is fairly normal for the two of you, he just calls you and asks if you want to go out and then you decide on somewhere on a whim. If you’re hungry you go out to eat, and if you’re both broke you have a picnic. You’ve visited every place worth visiting in the small town of Hawkins, as well as every place that isn’t. Sometimes when you can’t think of anything to do, you’ll just go on a walk with him in the woods. It really doesn’t matter to either of you what you’re doing or where you are, as long as you’re together.

Today, though, you know exactly what you want to do. You’ve been missing Mews a lot recently, so when you saw an ad for some cats and dogs in need of adoption, going to the shelter is all you’ve wanted to do. Maybe petting animals for an hour or so will make you feel better.

As soon as you walk in the door, your smile is so wide it reaches your eyes. You squeal at the cuteness of all the kittens and puppies near the front. You pull Steve with you to the fences, many of the puppies already trying to crawl up to see both of you.

A fluffy chocolate-colored puppy wags their tail and looks up at Steve.

“I think that one likes you,” you giggle, pointing to it.

“Aw, he’s adorable,” he picks the puppy up gently and runs his fingers through its fur.

You fluff up the thick fur around its head, “Looks a bit like you,”

“Very funny,” he slowly puts the dog down and gets distracted by some of the other ones.

You head over to the kittens on the other side of the room, high pitched meows filling your ears. Many of them are rolling around or swiping at yarn balls, some scratching at the fence. You pick up an orange kitten and it starts liking at your fingers. It clings to your shirt with its tiny claws and purrs softly. It looks so much like Mews did as a kitten, and honestly you’re not sure you can bear constantly being reminded that your cat was viciously eaten by a demagorgon.

Steve comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “That one’s cute,”

“Yeah, it’s just-“ you sigh as you carefully put the kitten back on the floor.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he kisses your cheek and holds you tighter. Steve never really knew Mews, since he didn’t really become close with you and Dustin until after she died, but he’s seen pictures and you’ve told him about her. “You wanna take a look at some of the older cats?”

“Sure,” you nod, allowing him to take your hand and walk you down the hall.

There’s a room full of crates with cats of all kinds and ages. Most of them are rescue, some that had owners that passed away or couldn’t take care of them anymore. You run up to the little doors and pet as many kitties as you can, many of them purring, some growling a bit. Steve nearly jumps out of his skin when one hisses at him, making you chuckle.

You come across one black cat huddled in the corner of his crate, lifting his head slightly when he sees you. He’s missing an eye and he’s pretty skinny.

“What happened to this one?” you ask the worker feeding one of the cats nearby.

“We’re not completely sure, actually. Someone brought him in, said they found him in the snow on the side of the road,” she says. “He’s been pretty shy, but you can try holding him if you want,” You nod vigorously. The worker opens the crate door and places the cat carefully in your arms. He purrs almost immediately on contact, closing his one eye and rubbing his head against you. You’re nearly brought to tears at the sweetness.

“I love him,”

“He’s not available for adoption just yet because we still need to get him healthy, but in a few weeks you’re welcome to come back,” You look up at Steve, who seems to have equally fallen in love with the cat. He meows at Steve and reaches his paw out.

“Does he want me?”

“I think so,” you laugh, handing the cat over. Steve looks like he’s about to melt as the cat claws his sweater, purring and nuzzling his face into him. “Does he have a name?”

“He didn’t have a collar, but one of my co-workers likes to call him Anakin, say he looks like scarred Darth Vader from the last Star Wars movie,”

You smile, “I like that,”

It’s Christmas Eve. You, Dustin, and your mom are watching some old Christmas movie on the TV and eating probably way too many Christmas cookies. The house smells of pine, citrus, and sugar, and your fingertips are crisp from the cold.

The animal shelter told you they’d call you when Anakin was healthy enough to be taken home, and you still haven’t gotten a call in the last few weeks. You’re starting to worry maybe something happened to him or someone else got him.

The doorbell rings, and you get up to answer it.

“Hey beautiful,” Steve catches your lips before you even have the chance to process him standing in your doorway.

“Hi,” you exhale. You notice he has one arm behind his back, and he tries to hide it by leaning against the frame.

“I couldn’t wait until tomorrow, I want to give you your present now,” he runs his other hand through his hair. “Turn around, okay?” You comply, hearing him come inside and set down whatever he had after closing the door.

“Is that Steve sweetie?” your mom calls.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Steve covers your eyes and guides you back to your living room. “Keep your eyes closed, okay? I’ll bring it in here,”

Dustin and your mom gasp, and you swear you can hear a familiar meow.

“Okay, open your eyes,” You almost scream as you see none other than Anakin step out of a crate. He looks straight at you and meows again, showcasing a red collar with his name on it.

“You got him for me?”

“Of course,”

Dustin and your mom kneel on the floor, smiling and petting him.

“Steve, he’s wonderful, thank you,” your mom says.

“Well, I mean I know how hard it’s been since Mews got-“ Dustin gives Steve a glare, reminding him how your mom didn’t actually know what happened. “-lost,”

You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry of happiness. You run to Steve’s side and bury your face in his chest, hugging him close. You feel something tug at your pants, looking down to see Anakin meowing up at you. You pick him up and hold him between you, his purrs filling the room.

“How can I ever thank you for this?”

“I’m sure I can think of something,” he winks, running his fingers down your arm and kissing the crown of your head. “Merry Christmas sweetheart,”

“Merry Christmas Steve,”

#steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things x reader #joe keery

101 notes · View notes

ollie-oxen-free · 5 years ago

Note

Can you write a shit post with twist? Or something fluffy and cute?

oh i ABSOLUTELY can ( @itsladykit for you, on your hiatus)

tags: fluff, twist’s knitting circle

________________

The house that had been on the invitation was small but well kept. There was a garden of flowers- hearty types from what he remembered from what his bro had told him over the years- about a dozen different colors lining the sidewalk that led to the porch. Twist heaved the bag over his shoulder higher, adjusting the strap as he glanced back down at the crumpled paper in his hands. The address matched, so he was certain it was the right place, especially since there were a few cars parked on this side of the street in front of the house.

The door was a pale yellow, set in the brick walls of the home, and he took in a deep breath before he rang the doorbell. The chime sounded through the house and he pulled his hand away, adjusting his bag once more. Footsteps came towards the door and there was the sound of a lock sliding out of place before the yellow door swung in on its hinges.

Standing in the doorway was an older woman, peering up at him through tortoiseshell glasses. She looked at him suspiciously, brow furrowed. “Can I help you, young man?”

Twist smiled at her, trying to make himself seem smaller, aware of how threatening he might seem to a senior whose head barely reached the bottom of his sternum. “Are ya... “ He pulled the paper out of his pocket, wishing he’d bothered to memorize the information better. “Sandra? Sandra Dashlend?”

She looked at the paper in his hands and her eyes widened. The lenses of her glasses, thick, made her eyes seem much larger than they really were. “Oh. Are you here for the group?”

There were crow’s feet beside her eyes, wrinkles fading into deeper lines as she smiled. Twist shifted his weight to his other foot. “If yer fine wit’ me comin’ in.”

She stepped to the side, opening the door wider. “Of course! We’re always happy to have more people join us!”

Twist waited to see if she would change her mind, but when she didn’t he stepped in, turning to watch her shut the door behind them. The house smelled faintly of vanilla and cheap perfume. Sandra hobbled past him, a slight limp in her gait. “Come this way, dear! Everyone else is in the other room.”

Twist followed, gaze flicking around the room. On one wall a large dresser stood, the glass doors closed, displaying fine china behind the shelves. When he walked into the room behind her, all eyes turned to him. He smiled and waved, gently. Despite the curious stares and shocked looks, there was no real hostility. Even if there was, Twist wasn’t sure it would amount to much. He didn’t really get how humans themselves aged, but he was pretty sure that no one in the room was under 60.

Sandra walked around the circle of chairs, sitting down in one of the empty ones and picking up the knitting she had set to the side. “Feel free to sit anywhere, dear. We won’t bite! Most of our dentures aren’t that strong.”

A few of the women chuckled at that, the gentle clicks of their working filling the room. Twist looked at the chairs haphazardly set in a circle, deciding to pick the one closest to Sandra. He set his bag down and pulled out his yarn, just some cheap stuff he’d bought at the store when he decided to pick up the habit at the other’s prompting.

(“Something that keeps your hands busy helps, something repetitive and calming,” they’d said, though he was certain they didn’t exactly have knitting in mind. Then again, he enjoyed doing the exact opposite of what most expected.)

“So,” one of the women said, “what’s your name?”

Twist glanced up at her as he set the craft he’d been working on- just a scarf, really, nothing too fancy- in his lap, taking up both of the needles. “‘S Twist.”

They went around the circle after that, stating their own names. Twist ended up forgetting most of them after they were done.

He took the needles, checking his last stitch before starting to loop a new one, continuing on with his threading. Chatter started back up again, chats about whose children were doing what or pets or recipes. When Twist heard his name he looked up at one of the women across from him, her knitting held up. A small sock was hanging from the needles as she worked, small enough for a child. “Yeah?”

“Where do you work? I doubt you’re old enough to be retired.”

He hummed, focusing on the turn of yarn before he answered her. “Uh. Odd jobs, I s’pose? Repairs n’ muscle work n’ all that.”

That sparked a conversation among the others, one of the women- Cathy, maybe? Or Joanne?- detailing a story that he reminded her of, about how her ex husband had tried to do their own electrical wiring and ended up having to call someone to fix it at twice the price it would have been otherwise. Twist snorted when she was done, turning onto the next row.

In the other room, a timer went off, and Sandra stood quickly. “The cookies are finished. Would anyone like some coffee?”

A few hands went up, and Twist raised his own.

By the time the club was over, Twist had finished his scarf and had a new pattern for another project.

#my writing #twist #fluff #500 followers #okay so heres what happens:#twist is driving one day and sees one of the ladies broken down on the side of the road #and he fixes her car for her #and the story gets around and then all of a sudden twist is the adopted grandchild of a bunch of old women #he gets freshly baked goods and knitted items all the time #kit i will give him love since you are incapable of doing so

30 notes · View notes

xoxoiwatobi · 5 years ago

Text

I’m your (late 😅) gifter for the @tachibanamakotobirthdayexchange, @chibistarlyte! Super sorry about the delay—now let’s get you that slightly angsty + fluffy MakoHaru you’ve been waiting for! 💚💙

Summary: Haru needs a little reassurance the night before they begin their separate college careers.

Read below, on AO3, or FF.net. No trigger warnings, just 2.3k words of light angst with fluff and a happy ending. Takes place right before they start university! Thanks to my girls, @uravityesque and @mrssakurahatake , for looking over the first draft of this fic. 💚

A Little Distance

Makoto stood from the futon they’d only just finished assembling and glanced to the sliding glass doors, the streetlights coming in bright. He sighed. “I should probably get going now, don’t you think?”

Haru stood, too; he couldn’t argue, even though he might have wanted to.

Only a few days ago, they could have stayed up until well past midnight and it wouldn’t have mattered at all. Makoto could have walked the few yards to the Tachibana’s, he could have fallen asleep right where he sat at Haru’s.

But now…

Now, Makoto needed to catch a bus home. Because they weren’t in Iwatobi, he and Makoto weren’t nextdoor neighbors anymore.

And after tomorrow…

On the mornings Haru lingered too long, he wouldn’t have his baths interrupted with an exasperated grin and a gentle scolding. On the rare mornings he didn’t linger in the water, he wouldn’t step outside to find Makoto on the stoop, coaxing a kitten into nuzzling his hand, into purring and wrapping its little body around his ankle. Makoto wouldn’t stand up with a final pet and a bright “Good morning, Haru-chan!” Makoto wouldn’t laugh as he glared at the ‘-chan’.... Ren and Ran wouldn’t chase after their weekend runs along the beach, wouldn’t beg and pout for them to stop and help them find the prettiest shells and seaglass instead. And on nights when Haru couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t look to the South and see the soft glow shining through Makoto’s curtains, the green light that meant Makoto was still awake, too; the beacon that meant he could toss one of the pebbles they’d plucked from the shore at the glass and Makoto would part those green curtains and—

After tomorrow… Makoto wouldn’t be waiting at the edge of the pool to offer his hand, to help Haru from the water, to pull him out of his head. Not at practice, not at meets…

Haru looked down, swallowed. He’d had plenty of time to prepare, of course. They both knew where they were attending university, where they were living, what they were doing. They’d known it for weeks. But his halfhearted imaginings were nothing compared to facing the reality of it.

Then Makoto was nodding, turning to find his backpack, turning for the door.

And Haru didn’t want to face it all, not yet. He could feel his anxiety rising, climbing up his spine to animate his body. It moved him forward, moved his fingers to the hem of Makoto’s sleeve. His hand was light, his knuckles barely brushing against the pulse in Makoto’s wrist, the lightest tug on the slack material beneath his fingertips.

Makoto didn’t freeze, he didn’t go stiff or rigid; he didn’t turn to face Haru. He just stood, his arm loose at his side. Giving Haru the time, the privacy he needed to voice the thing they’d both danced around these past weeks.

“We’ve...we’ve never been…” so far away went unsaid, Haru’s fingers tugging more insistently at the soft cotton.

Makoto nodded slightly. “And tomorrow will be the first time we won’t walk to our ‘first day of school’ together, too.” His voice was always soft for Haru, but tonight it was even more so. Because he knew Haru needed it.

Because tomorrow, Haru’s day would be filled with new people—dozens, hundreds of them. People who wanted him to talk—to them, about himself. People who didn’t just know, people who would have to learn. Haru’s fingers twisted deeper into Makoto’s sweater.

“Well, beside that time in second year when you skipped.” Makoto’s laugh came out shallow, just barely shaking the sleeve in Haru’s hand.

That morning, Haru had been moody; he’d been short, dismissive even, with Makoto. He’d been thinking of Rin. So he’d told Makoto to go on without him, ...then he’d never shown up. Haru’s grip tightened around the soft cotton, pulling it taut. That day, most of the last year, the night of the festival… There were so many times lately when Makoto had deserved better.

He would… He just…!

On instinct, Haru leaned in, immediately letting out a shaky breath at the contact, his fingers slackening some around the cotton yarn. Makoto’s sweater was plush against his forehead, too; the body beneath it was warm, strong. Like Makoto always was for Haru. He could breathe again, deep and slow, soothed by the familiarity of the fabric softener the Tachibana’s had used for the last decade. This, Haru realized, was as close to Iwatobi, to home, as he could get....

Haru felt Makoto’s quiet hum radiate through his shoulder blade before he heard it, the words that followed: “I could try out the new futon,” Makoto murmured. “I could stay.”

“No!” Haru started, jerking at Makoto’s sleeve. He’d thought about it—of course he’d thought about it. He’d thought about more than that: If they could both miraculously get out of their leases, if they could find a two-bedroom perfectly equidistant between their two universities, if they could do it all before classes started…. Haru bit his lip. He was keeping Makoto from getting the rest he needed for tomorrow, and Haru had promised himself in Australia that he’d be better, that he’d be more for Makoto. More open; more aware of Makoto’s dreams, the dreams they shared… “No,” he whispered. He meant it, ...even as he leaned in closer, even as he kept his hold on Makoto’s sleeve.

Makoto hummed again, content to let Haru rest against his shoulder, stand together in the quiet for however long Haru needed.

Haru let the silence stretch until his heart no longer felt like he was waiting for the starting pistol to fire, until the adrenaline had receded. He let out a sigh, an audible acquiescence.

“It could be good for us, you know.” Makoto’s words were contemplative, cautious. “A little distance.”

Haru stiffened, each muscle tensing, ready to dive again.

Makoto felt it; his tone softened further: “We don’t really know what the world is like without the other right by our side.” He cleared his throat. “We might discover a new side to ourselves this year. That’s what college is for, right?”

Haru shook his head against the hard ridge of Makoto’s shoulder blade, bangs catching on green yarn with each rejection of Makoto’s premise. With every we Makoto had spoken, Haru had heard the underlying you: Makoto was hedging, still so afraid of over overstepping Haru’s boundaries again after all the things Haru had said beneath the fireworks….

Makoto chuckled softly, knowingly, then Haru felt his chest expand, Makoto’s shoulders broadening with the intake. “Doesn’t mean I won’t miss you...,” came as an exhale.

Haru’s breath caught, his lungs empty as if Makoto had breathed out for him, too.

Makoto laughed again, too loudly. “All the time, probably—things aren’t nearly as scary when you’re there!” His shoulder rolled slightly, involuntarily beneath Haru. “...But it’ll be good for both of us, you’ll see. New perspectives highlight what we love about how things are, ...what we might want for the future, don’t you think?”

Haru heard the unspoken you’s again, but there was something else, too…. Something that made his chest tighten differently...

Makoto understood the volumes of Haru’s silence, Haru’s stillness. His reply was a true whisper this time: “But not everything has to change, Haru. Not if we don’t want it to.”

Makoto had spoken directly this time, no underlying you’s; there had been hope in his voice, certainty and quiet confidence, patience. Haru let Makoto’s words wrap around him; let them sink in and find purchase, let them wash away and replace the anxiety that had swept over him.

With another little sigh, Haru’s fingers slipped from the braided cotton, letting his knuckles graze the length of Makoto’s palm, catching another second of that warmth. He took a step back, watched as a true laugh shook through Makoto, as red colored his ears.

“You might have to get better at using your phone, though.” Makoto’s voice was louder now, clear and warm as his shoulder had been against Haru’s skin. Finally, he turned, green searching for blue.

“You know I hate texting,” Haru grumbled, glancing out at his small balcony, not quite ready for the surge that would come with meeting the verdancy of Makoto’s eyes, ...instead finding the little rosemary plant the twins had given him for graduation.

“I do,” Makoto laughed, deep and sincere, and followed Haru’s gaze.

The time for hard freezes in Tokyo had passed; Haru was in no danger of breaking his promise to Ren of keeping it alive. Ran had told him she hoped its blue flowers would remind him of the ocean.... Their mother had given him a kiss on the cheek and a series of new mackerel recipes that featured the Mediterranean herb....

“They’d love a picture of it out there.”

They would, the Tachibana’s deserved a photo at the very least. “Tomorrow.” Haru nodded and turned back to find Makoto looking at his watch, smiling ruefully at the placement of the hands.

“I really do have to go now. Should’ve known we’d lose track of time again—I could’ve just brought my stuff for tomorrow and rolled out of bed and into the pool like you! Well, off the futon.”

At that, Haru’s eyes finally made the leap to Makoto’s. He’d hoped Makoto would want to continue the routine they’d started in their last few days of freedom once classes began, but the extra commute before class on top of Makoto’s college workload….

“I’ll only be getting up a little earlier than we did for ISC in middle school. Don’t worry.” Makoto smiled, kind eyes crinkling to a close. “And besides, I can’t just stop swimming, can I?”

Haru nodded, lips tilting up slightly in return. “Text me when you get back to your place.”

Makoto grinned—just a little—at Haru’s sudden willingness to utilize technology.

Haru rolled his eyes, hoping to distract from the color on his cheeks. “Goodnight, Makoto.”

At least Haru wasn’t the only one blushing….

—

Despite Makoto’s reassurances, Haru woke up a little apprehensive, a little tight—his jaw and neck, his hands, his calves—like his body had drawn itself taut overnight. He and Makoto would be in the pool within an hour, ...but mornings like this one were why he and Makoto had hunted for an apartment with a suitable bathtub.

Some mornings, he just needed to wake up to water.

And not a minute after submerging himself, Haru’s phone buzzed at the edge of the tub. He’d brought it with him...just in case. In case maybe he didn’t hate phones as much as he once did, ...in case Makoto read his mind like he always did.

Haru allowed himself a small smile for the first two rings, the remnants of that smile still tilting his lips up when he swiped open the Facetime call.

Makoto grinned wide and bright. “Good morning, Haru-chan!”

Haru gave a brief flicker of a grin, ...then dropped his phone.

“H-Haru!” came Makoto’s flailing on the other side, half a second before his phone broke the surface of the bath. The water garbled Makoto’s voice as his phone drifted to land face-down on his jammers: “Nwwwoooh!! H-Hawu?! Hawu!”

A moment later, Haru took pity on his oldest friend and fished out his phone, only just keeping himself from a full-blown grin.

“Haru!” Makoto cheered, the video shaking with his relief. He’d brought his phone up close, as if he were playing a particularly difficult scene of a video game and had a say in the view, ...rather than being the other half of a FaceTime call. “I-I thought I’d just watched you drown your parents’ graduation present!”

“You got me a waterproof case for it, remember?” Haru couldn’t keep the mirth from his voice, watching realization slowly dawn on Makoto’s face.

Makoto let out a loud laugh; green, green eyes closing in self-deprecation as he slapped his forehead. “I did, didn’t I?”

“That’s what you get for calling me ‘Haru-chan.’” He didn’t quite manage not to sound petulant, but that was okay. He hadn’t really tried, not when he knew it would make Makoto let out another laugh; crinkle up the corners of his eyes in that warm, perfect way. Not when he was determined to never take that sound for granted again.

“Mmm,” Makoto hummed casually. “Sorry, Haru. Old habits and all...”

Haru chuckled, then. Just the once, but it was unguarded under Makto’s fond gaze. He propped his phone against a bottle of shampoo, while Makoto readjusted his from several kilometers away, his image growing smaller. Haru narrowed his eyes as the video focused, only just noticing the apron strings around Makoto’s neck. “Where am I? On your kitchen shelf?”

“Mmhhhmm! I’m making breakfast, something you might want to consider doing so you have time to get all your laps in before your very first day at university!”

Haru hummed noncommittally and sunk deeper into the water, into the comfort of Makoto’s voice. “Your first class is literature, right?”

It was easy to lose track of time with Makoto alternating between chatting and humming some soft K-pop song as he cooked, the quiet sizzles and scrapes of the kitchen lulling him deeper into the bath, his nose only just above the water line.

“I’ll beat you to the pool at this rate, Haru.”

Haru hid his smirk under a stream of bubbles.

A year of this wouldn’t be so bad. Not preferable, ...but not horrible, either. He dragged himself out of the water, phone in hand, and reached for his towel.

“So we’ll get ramen tonight at that place Kisumi recommended? Nagisa and Rei want to hear about our first day and their new recruits, so we can....”

No, it wouldn’t be so bad. And maybe next year… Maybe next year, they’d have a morning routine without phones, without distance.

________

Hope you enjoyed your gift, and I'm so sorry it's late!

First time writing for Free! or MakoHaru—hope I did them justice!!!—but I don’t think it’ll be my last. 💚💙 Might have a few ideas for a continuation of this one, if anyone's interested.... ;)

Thanks for reading!

- @xoxoendoh

#Free!#makoharu #makoto tachibana #haruka nanase #tachibanamakotobirthdayexchange #endoh writes #nanase haruka #tachibana makoto #free! dive to the future

23 notes · View notes

sourwolfstories · 6 years ago

Text

fluffy christmas sterek fics

hooked on (dangling by a yarn) by extantecstasy

One hundred days, ten scarves, one Christmas, and Stiles' dormant magic has to ruin everything.

All I Want for Christmas (Is You) by blindinglights

Derek meets Stiles in a department store while shopping for his family, after seeing a little girl crying for her Dad on the floor. They part ways and Derek doesn’t think he’ll see Stiles again. Beacon Hills may not be that big, but it still doesn’t mean he’ll ever run into Stiles, because that’s just not how Derek’s life works. Despite what Erica tries to tell him whenever she can, that sometimes fate can happen, Christmas miracles, whatever, it won’t.

(Or, the one where Stiles is a single dad, Derek falls for him, and Christmas ends up better than Derek expected.)

Secret Santa by rainbowninja167

Derek is already thoroughly sick of Christmas by the time Erica bullies him into dressing up as Santa for a holiday charity. It was only supposed to take a couple hours. Until some kid starts accosting him all over Beacon Hills, insisting that Derek is the real Santa.

That’ll Be $4.20 (But You Can Have My Heart For Free) by stilinski_wolf

Stiles is the barista at the coffee shop Derek frequents, and after they start talking via messages on Derek's coffee cups, Stiles gets the courage to tell Derek he likes him, and Derek asks him out.

Stiles' Christmas that year just got a whole lot better.

Glad Tidings by stilinskisparkles

“Eight people are going to be descending on our home in a mere matter of days, Derek.” Stiles grabs the pizza box, uses it to gesture at the pile of books and papers under the table, away and towards Derek’s sneaker collection. “You want them to think we live like this all the time?”

“We do live like this all the time,” Derek huffs, stretching lazily.

You put a Hallmark on my Heart by giantteenwolforgy

Stiles is funny and smart and kind and is also his daughter's teacher and his boss's son. On the list of people who are off-limits, Stiles has held the top spot for as long as Derek has known him.

Since Derek is Derek, Stiles also happens to rank number one on the list of people Derek is in love with. Seriously. His life is like a bad Hallmark movie.

I Just Want You For My Own (More Than You Could Ever Know) by yodasyoyo

“What is with that sweater, dude?”

Derek ducks his head to look at it, abashed. “Uh- Mrs Hernandez knitted it for me. It’s an early Christmas gift.” He smooths it down self-consciously.

Stiles cocks an eyebrow.

“What? She’s my neighbor and sometimes I-” Derek trails off. Stiles’ other eyebrow rises to join the first, and Derek sighs. “Sometimes I help her carry her groceries."

Of course he does. One day maybe Stiles will stop being in love with Derek Hale, but today is not that day.

Please Come Home for Christmas by littlefrog1025

Derek spends the Christmas season with Stiles, but the last time he checked they weren't married with kids...

It’s A Christmas Thing by SnackerJack

Okay, Stiles knows that he’s part of the pack. He does. He is. It just... doesn’t feel like it at the moment. But it’s Christmas, so he sucks it up and proceeds to drown his feelings in sugar cookies. Or, five times Stiles got kissed under the mistletoe, and one time where it actually mattered.

Layover by dr_girlfriend

Excerpt:

Big, serious brown eyes were staring right into his from only a few inches away. The child had clambered half over the arm of Derek’s chair to study him at close range, her little rosebud mouth pursed in concentration.

“Uh.” Derek couldn’t look away as the girl reached out one pudgy hand and patted him gently on the cheek. Her scent was soft and sweet and somehow a bit familiar, just enough to keep Derek from shying away. Derek didn’t know too much about kids but he guessed this one was probably three years old or so, head still oversized in proportion to the short limbs and round little belly.

She seemed fascinated with Derek’s beard, eyes widening further under incredibly thick lashes as she petted Derek’s cheek some more, smoothing down the short stubble. Finally she grinned widely. “Good wuff.”

Derek jerked upright, hands clenching on the edge of his seat. Did she just say?...

“CJ!” The child was suddenly gone, lifted up by a strong, tattooed forearm around her little potbelly. “You scared the he— heck out of me! What have I told you about wandering — Derek?”

i wish i had a river by thepsychicclam

Derek is the editor of a successful publishing firm, and is horrible to all his employees, including Stiles. On Christmas Eve night, he gets visited by three spirits and has to take a look at his life.

aka A Sterek Christmas Carol

Christmas Kisses by Dexterous_Sinistrous

Stiles loves Christmas; he always had and always will. He tries hard to bring Christmas cheer to all the students and their families. There is one student's parent, in particular, who he is trying to impress the most.

Letters to Santa, baking, and mistletoe kisses couldn't prepare Stiles for the Christmas party he knew he'd never forget.

Because Stiles' mom was right: Christmas kisses are a mighty powerful thing.

A Christmas Hale by Captain_Loki

His mouth began forming the word 'no' in a knee jerk reaction, but it died on his lips when he actually looked at Stiles. There was no pity in his face, no sense of moral obligation or charitable intent, he looked...earnest and nervous and so much the sixteen that he was. He realized with a jolt that had his stomach twisting into something that felt nothing like anger that Stiles wasn't asking for Derek's sake.

The boys spend Christmas together. There's copious amounts of sarcasm, some sharing of emotions and somewhere along the lines feelings develop.

The Twenty-Five Gifts of Stiles Stilinski by knw

Everyone knows Stiles only starts stockpiling gifts when he has it bad; now he's started getting gifts for Derek.

A Christmas Retail Story by rlnerdgirl

Derek likes to spend his downtime between book contracts doing something calming, relaxing, and just for him. Unfortunately, this holiday season his sister has other things in mind, which is how he finds himself working in the women's department at Macy's. He might, just a little bit (or maybe a lot), want to kill himself. Or Laura.

The one reprieve he gets is Stiles, the only customer who knows exactly what he wants each and every time he pops in, complete with item number and size. Derek may or may not be developing a crush on him. So it's too bad all Stiles buys are ridiculously expensive things that are, most likely, for his extremely lucky girlfriend.

You Got Us An Ornament by TheRealNightTempest

With the Pack out of town for Christmas and his dad and Melissa on the honeymoon they never had, Stiles plans to craft his way through the holidays to distract himself from being alone. When he realizes his plan isn't as fun by himself, Stiles turns to Derek Hale to help him out as the only other miserable guy left in Beacon Hills at Christmas.

Or the one where Stiles loves Pinterest and forces Derek to help him bake ten different cookies and break out his hot gluing skills. There might be heaping amounts of feels. You have been warned.

With a Little Christmas Magic by Ashabadash

AU: Stiles is jobless this Christmas and as a last resort, is stuck playing one of Santa’s elves at the mall. The job is a bust, and Stiles isn’t really in the Christmas mood, until he finds salvation in the Starbucks at the food court, not only in hiding from kids, but in one very sexy barista named Derek. ((Or: In Wich Stiles in an Elf and Derek is a Christmas Coffee Magician))

Last Christmas by Hepzheba

Last Christmas I gave you my heart, but the very next day you gave it away.

The song is oddly fitting, Stiles thinks as he steps inside the Hale house and sees Derek talking to a dark girl. He's laughing and they're standing way too close to the mistletoe that hangs in the doorway. Derek is wearing a dorky sweater with a red-nosed reindeer. With a pang Stiles remembers last year's sweater with the Santa on it. He feels a churn of jealousy when the girl touches Derek's arm. Stiles has no right to be jealous though, Derek isn't his and never was. They had one (incredible, hot) make out session last year but that was it.

#sterek #sterek fic rec #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #fic rec list #christmas #holidays #fluff #christmas fluff

671 notes · View notes

rannadylin · 6 years ago

Note

Fluff, Network, Offspring for Vi; Alignment, Grudge and Question for Anselm; Law, Pistol, Upcoming for Audie; Jaded, Law and Question for Glynis; Alignment, Fluff, Kin, Question and Touch for Ianthe

A-Z Headcanon Asks

Violet:

Fluff :: What hits their soft spot? Doesanything them into emotional goo?Edér’s sense of humor, mostly. Vi is a Very Serious Fluff and hisability to make her laugh even when things are pretty terrible is a large partof her falling for him. Seeing him go all silly over every stray pet theycollect brightens her day, too.

Also, Eothas. It’s obviously gonna be a complicatedrelationship she has with her god after Sun in Shadow, and worse, after hewrecks Caed Nua, but the first time she gets to actually talk to him in theDeadfire just melts her. Her devotion after that point isn’t just theoreticalor practical; she’s delighted to find him, well, likeable, even in the midst of another of his crazy schemes.

Network :: Are they connected to the people?How much do they reach out to others?

She takes that aspect of priesthood very seriously, thoughshe has to push herself to reach out at times when she’s more geared toward thecontemplative, introspective side of her calling. In the Dyrwood, she welcomes secretEothasians to her secret chapel in Caed Nua and has Edér to help her find suchfolk through the Night Market. Apart from church folk, she keeps incorrespondence with some of her family – Audie especially, before the clanvisited Caed Nua, and more of them after that – and with friends from her Dyrwood adventures, especially Kana and, when he bothers to write, Aloth – but she’s not much for socialevents and that kind of networking.

Offspring :: What kind of parent would they be?Would they prefer one, or multiple?She’s got lots of experience wrangling younger siblings, but ofcourse it’s different when it’s your own. Vi’s compassion and resolve and tendencyto give every situation careful thought would all come in handy with her kidsthough; she’s a devoted and caring mother, though on the other hand that“giving things careful thought” can make her hesitate to act quickly whendiscipline is called for. And…given her clan/city traditions…I’m not sure shecould handle having just one child, if she’s going to have any at all. XDThey’re meant to have siblings, right? Lots of those?

In the Soul & Shield world state, she and Edér willprobably adopt. In other world states – Deadfire canon included – she andAnselm will have a bunch. I think that letter to Eidis mentioned at leastthree? There will probably be more after that.

[more behind a cut, so many wonderful questions! ;-D]

Anselm:

Alignment :: What would be their D&Dalignment? How might it come into play?Hmmmm…this is tougher than it seems it should be. I mean he’s got arather particular sense of honor but also does not hesitate to use his Watchauthority to bend the rules if they get in the way. And he was certainly moreselfish in his youth whereas he’s trying to be more altruistic these days, so Isuppose he’s mid-shift from something like Lawful Evil to True Neutral? Oof,that’s my best guess anyway.

Grudge :: How bad does an insult go over? Dothey hold a grudge long?He’s got a lot of confidence (or…well…retains the veneer of it atleast, possibly to cover up a self-doubt that’s been growing since Violet leftand only now being challenged) to shrug off an insult, or more likely fire asubtle comeback. Grudges…are beneath him, mostly. Vengeance is more effective. Why stew over an injury done to you when you have the power to retaliate and assert your own superiority?

Question :: How often do they feel doubt? Whattopics are they defensive about?He’s always doubting whether he’s really any better now than he was whenViolet left. (Recent developments regarding someItzli sisters’ views of him may help to quiet those doubts. 😉)And he’s a little defensive about being a cipher, always expecting people tomistrust him for it and having to prove himself.

Audie:

Law :: What do they think about abiding rules?Are they selective about it?Audie thinks people should abide the rules that she makes, basically. Those that stand in her way, on the otherhand, were ill-advised. (To be fair, the world would run pretty smoothly if she were running it. Pity she wasn’t around when the Engwithans were deifying people.)

Pistol :: Is this character skilled with aweapon? What’s their opinion of violence?Oh, very skilled with her knives, both for stabbing and throwing.Being in the Citlatl militia longer than the rest of the Itzli siblings has hardenedher to violence, as well, though not to a great extent as the city’s been atpeace for all her life and it’s just fairly routine patrols and scouting andsuch for now. She’s not necessarily looking for a fight (not physically, at least: she’s almost always challenging someone at least psychologically) but she won’t back down from one either.

Upcoming :: How much do they think of thefuture? Do they make long-term plans?Lots of contingency plans, I think. She has the most influence onthe family’s business pursuits these days, so she does a lot of networking fortrade contracts (oh, and I think I’ve settled on the family business being inthe textile industry… :-D They totally make fabric from Ginny’s alpaca yarn,too, and some of the embroidery on the finer bolts of cloth and on the garmentsmade for export is done by some Itzli siblings as well as hired employees…) and she oversees plans for production and that sort of thing. But then she also hasPlans B and C and several more degrees of what they’ll do if anything goeswrong. So it’s a long-term series of short-term plans? Sort of?

Glynis:

Jaded:: Do they buy into the “happily ever after” ideal? What’s their standard?Her life is the gods’. And…she’s a visionary. Like, literally, theHaven is the product of her visions (from the gods, she assumes, and she’s probably right). And theyhaven’t told her anything about settling down happily ever after, so that makesTicatl’s attempts at courtship kind of awkward for a while.

Law:: What do they think about abiding rules? Are they selective about it?She is a very rule-abiding missionary, convinced that only by being above-boardand doing all that they do among the heathen in the light of Eothas can theyconvince people to convert. (On some level she feels like consorting with Ticatl is breaking the rules, though asfar as I know there isn’t any such rule, but it’s more to do with her role asRectrix and her fear of dividing her attention too much if she falls in love…atsome point she was, ahem, selective enough about that self-imposed rule thatshe did in fact end up pregnant, though, so there’s that.)

Question:: How often do they feel doubt? What topics are they defensive about?She is not a philosopherlike Violet, so rather than welcoming doubt as a chance to examine the truth closer,she tends to try to outshine it and cling tighter to the tenets of Engwithanfaith, of which she’s pretty enthusiastically convinced. She’s a littledefensive about her visions of the Haven, when that first starts happening andshe’s trying to convince the other missionaries they need to build this thing.

Ianthe:

Alignment :: What would be their D&D alignment? How mightit come into play?Hmmmmm. Lawful neutral maybe, given her respect for authority evenwhen she’s not fully on board with Thaos’ methods?

Fluff :: What hits their soft spot? Does anything them intoemotional goo?Hugs from Glynis. Appreciation – Ianthina so regularly feelsoverlooked and persuades herself to just live with it, that if someone treatsher with genuine regard it’s a little overwhelming (and she’s forever grateful,once she gets over the initial suspicion depending on where said regard iscoming from).

Kin :: What’s their role among their relations? Do theyconsider others family?Hmmm well for actual blood relations, her parents died young but Idunno [yet] why, and I don’t think she had much other family – no siblings,maybe an aunt or uncle or something out there? And of course she ends upviewing Thaos as a father figure but that takes a while. I don’t know if sheeven got to the point of considering Glynis like family, though she’ll alwaysconsider her as her best friend, but their time together in training was brief,relative to the rest of Ianthe’s time in the gods’ service. (As for hersort-of-stepmother Deoiridh, in whatever version of the story gives them achance to get to know each other better, she kind of views her more asa…sister, or cousin or something, but keeps that view to herself. XD)

Question :: How often do they feel doubt? What topics arethey defensive about?Having had her doubts about the gods confirmed after theInquisition, and yet coming back to serve them anyway, she’s got a tendency nowto be even more skeptical and assume her doubts about anything are true. But tostill do what seems most practical, even if contrary to her doubts. She’s defensiveabout her role in the Inquisition, especially the lover she had who went overto Iovara’s cause, but she’s even more defensive about her inclination to mercyafter she returns to the gods’ service. It goes against all her practical nature,after all; but she’s just seen too muchruthlessness in the Inquisition to let that be her first resort anymore, evenif she feels at first like this disappoints her mentor…

Touch :: How do they handle contact? Is their personal bubblebig?She’s fairly aloof, definitely a big bubble, maybe something to dowith being an only child. Glynis was almost instantly granted an exception tothis standoffishness – look, when the first acolyte you meet in the barracks upon enteringtemple training greets you with an enthusiastic and very fluffy hug and then lookschagrined at overstepping and clearly hopes she hasn’t started off on the wrongfoot with her new roommate, sometimes you can’t help but set aside your awkwarddiscomfort and tell her it’s fine. And take a liking to this fluffy littleidealist with eyes as big as her dreams who clearly needs a more sensiblefriend to help rein in her wilder ideas. (Oh goodness, I really need to writesome early Ianthe & Glynis fic, don’t I?)

#a to z headcanons #violet #watcher violet #anselm coatl #audrisa itzli #glynis #ianthina #inquisitor ianthina #csi: citlatl #thanks for asking!#grumpy-jedi

3 notes · View notes

lonely-void-flower · 6 years ago

Text

Tip for Costume/prop makers/designers

This is only for those that didnt know and/or on a budget!

So you just started a project, mayby its a costume or a furry little prop. But then ypu remember there is no place around you that sells fur fabrics! And you cant afford the type they sell online! Oh the horror!

Well im here to help with this small tip, its not a how to sadly cause i have yo wait till saturday to buy my stuff.

So you have a bunch of yarn laying around? Or you have a place localy where they sell yarn?

Wait wait wait! Chibi i know you are trying to help but i don't wanna make my costume/prop look like it has dreadlocks!

Shhh shh let me finish beloved reader! So since you have those accessible all you gotta do is get a pet brush, the kind with metal bristles and a hair iron.

Just grab the ammount of jarn string you need make sure to make it longer than what you need cut it and tie it all in the center, now brush one side till its all resembling slightly messy hair, if your brush plucks out a few of the stands dont panic, those strands where loose ones.

For the stuff you pluck out from your brush, you can probably use it as really soft stuffing or something else.

Now ypu have both sides brushed, you wanna make sure your hair iron is at its lowest temp, and once its heated up make a quick pass on the hair, we don't want to take too long cause depending on the yarn you use it may just melt and clump up.

Then bam! Ya have the fur/hair you ned, you can either cut and glue the end part on a mask to make a fluffy mask or you can not do the knot part and sew the yarn in your fabric of choice then do the other steps! Its reall all up to you!

Well i hope i helped someone with this! Have a nice day/night!

#tip #maybe its a how to #idk #i was a bit anxious about posting this #qwq #hope i helped someone

47 notes · View notes

eledritch · 7 years ago

Note

Since you mentioned that Altea Creek slowly becomes a ghost town in one ask, which buildings are still standing for tourists and ghost hunters to snoop around in? Are there any urban legends like how people can hear the sounds of horses racing in the night, how a woman with white hair appears in the windows of the old brothel, or how people who get lost in the desert find a shack surrounded by corn stalks to stay in for the night, only to wake up in the old sherrif's office come morning?

ok fine i admit it i love the btsats universe...please send me more fun prompts for it!

ARIZONA; AUGUST 13th, 2017

She’s heard the tales they tell about this place.

She never put any stock in them, of course - at nineteen, she’s way too old to believe in old wives’ tales anymore. Her grandma Dolores, who married some cowboy up in Page after her grandpa died five years ago, always has some new yarn to spin at family reunions in Sedona. She thinks the sun is probably getting to Dolores’s husband’s head when he tells her about the huge wildcat prowling the outer reaches of his ranch at sunrise, followed by a young man on a red horse. Makes no damn sense, and that’s not even the craziest of it.

They say this town is haunted by a woman with long white hair and piercing blue eyes, by a herd of phantom mustangs no one can ever catch but a few swear they’ve seen, by a huge creature with horns and yellow eyes, and, perhaps strangest of all if only because of its comparative normalcy, by a lean boy with shaggy black hair, or sometimes white hair; no one can seem to agree.

Altea Creek, the town was called, or at least that’s what the faded wooden sign says. It’s not even big enough to warrant an actual road sign, one of those green highway signs with blocky white letters, and that makes her real nervous. It means this place is really and truly in the middle of nowhere, and therefore she is in the middle of nowhere, and it’s in the middle of desert nowhere, which makes it even worse. At least when people go missing in forests and mountains and swamps and things, people go looking for them. But she’s never heard of people braving the Sonoran to find a teenage girl who was left behind at a midnight bonfire that was supposed to be fun.

It was fun, she thinks sullenly, at least until she’d woken up hungover to the rising sun and all her so-called friends gone. Serves her right, for thinking Arizona State frat bros and sorority girls would actually look out for a scrawny NAU freshman. Then again, her NAU sisters had been there, too...ugh. Sororities are dumb, anyway. Sisters definitely aren’t supposed to accidentally leave each other passed out in the stupid cave Josh Whats-His-Face had declared was, Like, Totally The Perfect Hookup Place, C’mon, It’ll Be Sooooo Fun Oh My God Lighten Up, Will You?

“Fuck you, Josh,” she says to a passing tumbleweed, and then feels bad, because tumbleweeds are really pathetic-looking as it is; they don’t need her harsh words, too.

She stops walking. She really doesn’t want to go into that creepy little ghost town. But she also doesn’t want to get heat stroke and die. Ghosts, or horrible agonizing death? Tough choice.

Dolores and her husband have so many weird stories about this area, though. It doesn’t just stop at wildcats. Apparently random cornstalks just...grow out here, sometimes. And, well, she doesn’t know much about corn, but she does know that it’s dry as shit out here, and not much more ever grows except cacti and weird stunted trees. So corn seems pretty unlikely. But Dolores swears there’s corn. And also, rabbits. Like, tons of rabbits. Rabbits with glowing eyes. Who look at you like they know you.

Grandma Dolores is clearly off her rocker.

She resolutely does not think about the darker stories - the stories of mangled bodies showing up beside the highway, and sure, maybe they had all been probable child molesters with a plethora of witnesses testifying against them, but she still doesn’t love the idea of a violent vigilante roaming the desert with intent to kill.

Nervously, she tugs her shirt closer, not that it does much good - it’s August, and she’s only got her short shorts and a faded Stranger Things tanktop. She can feel her shoulders getting crispy already. How long has she been wandering out here? A hour, two? The sun looks way higher in the sky than it was before. Yet the town seems no closer...it shimmers in the distance, just out of reach. Mirage, she thinks, hazily. But she was so sure it was right in front of her...

She wracks her brain for what to do. Her dad gave her a bunch of weird survival books, back in the day, despite the fact that they lived in the middle of Phoenix and she wasn’t exactly in danger of getting lost in the desert. But oh, how the tables have turned.

Prickly pears...she thinks they have water in them, or maybe that’s barrel cacti. Or maybe she’s completely fucked. All she knows is that her throat has never been this dry, and her lips are so chapped they’re bleeding when she bites at them, and she’s suddenly terrified. She doesn’t want to die out here, all alone where no one will ever find her. She feels tears prickle at her eyes and blinks them back hastily - she has to conserve water, she can’t cry, even if it’s saltwater, how the hell does that work, anyway -

There’s a black cat standing in front of her.

She blinks down at it stupidly. “Hi,” she croaks. The cat is fluffy, with a white splotch on its head and a ouchie looking scar over its muzzle. It’s missing its front right paw, and she scrunches up her face in sympathy. “Guess you’re having a rough time out here too, huh?”

The cat meows and winds around her ankles, rubbing its head against her bare calf and staring up with wide grayish eyes. She smiles tiredly and kneels down to pet it, and as she kneels she’s struck with the awful realization that now she and this cat are going to die out here, and she can’t even do anything to help!

She bursts into tears and the cat looks distinctly alarmed as she hiccups out between sobs, “I’m so - I’m so sorry, kitty, you’re...you should go run off somewhere else, ‘kay, find someone with water who can take care of you ‘cause I, I can’t, I can’t watch you die, too -!”

She’s falling onto the ground; her head is swimming and she’s feverish, shaking as a firm hand presses to her brow and a shadow falls over her. The cat paws gently at her cheek and gives her sweaty, clammy skin a soft lick. “Heat exhaustion,” a woman’s voice says, floating through the air like a blessedly cool breeze. “She’s very dehydrated; another two hours and she’d be gone.”

Another voice, this one deeper, male; she feels it as if from the earth. “Hmph. City girl, huh?”

She doesn’t understand when a third, even deeper voice joins them, this one coming from the cat, which is staring sternly upward at the man she can’t see. “Keith, don’t be rude, she got lost and panicked. She’s young and afraid; can’t be much older than you were.”

The second voice makes a thoughtful sound. “I know. But look, she’s burnt bad. Allura, you still have that aloe?”

“Of course.” The cool hand on her brow sweeps back her hair; the woman’s touch is comforting, like a lullaby; it reminds her terribly of her mother. “Come now, let’s get her inside.”

She has no strength left in her body when they lift her up - the woman is carrying her, and when she looks up blearily she sees long white hair and piercing blue eyes, though there is no malice in the woman’s steady gaze. The cat is curled up warm and soft atop her chest, in her limply folded arms, and purrs when she pets it clumsily. “Good kitty,” she mumbles, and the second voice, Keith, chuckles.

“Fishing for compliments, I see,” Keith says.

“She likes cats,” the cat replies primly. “And I like being petted. It all works out nicely.”

She passes out.

When she awakes, she is in an unfamiliar little house, in a cozy bed, and there is a lean boy with shaggy black hair polishing a knife at the kitchen table. She sits up, confused, and he turns to look at her, calm and quizzical.

“Hello,” he says. “Sleep well?”

“Where am I?” she says.

“Safe,” he says, and for some reason, she absolutely believes him.

He puts down the knife. It is a strange knife, she thinks, shiny and black. Obsidian? “I like your knife,” she blurts, and flushes when he shoots her a small, lopsided smile.

“Thank you,” he says. “It was a gift.” He tilts his head. “What do you remember?”

She tells him about her friends leaving her. He frowns, and tells her to get new friends. She agrees. She cannot stop looking at him. There is something...other, about this boy. He is serene, radiant in a way she cannot quite describe, and she has never felt so at peace in her life.

Then she says, “And there was a cat.” She furrows her brow. “At least, I think there was a cat...”

“Oh, yes,” the boy says, and nods to the fluffy black heap at the end of the bed. The cat is sleeping soundly, and rolls happily onto its back when she reaches out and scratches its little chin. The boy grins, oddly amused by the exchange. “He likes you.”

“What’s his name?” she asks, enchanted. The cat sneezes and blinks sleepily up at her.

The boy hesitates, then says, “Shiro. His name is Shiro.”

“Shirooo,” she coos, and is disappointed when the cat butts its head against her palm once before hopping off the bed, padding off into the house and around the corner. “Oh. There he goes.”

“You ought to go, too,” the boy says, standing up and offering her a hand. She takes it; his hand is warm and calloused, with a faint white scar across his palm as he lets go. “I’ll take you back home.”

“Home?” she says, and shakes her head. “I don’t live around here.”

“But you live in this desert, don’t you?” he asks. She nods slowly, and he smiles. “It’s our desert,” he tells her, quietly, like a secret. “We can take you home.”

“Do you need an address?” she asks, although deep down she knows he doesn’t.

Sure enough, he shakes his head, and touches her face, carefully, the barest brush of fingertips.

“Goodbye, Katie,” he says, and in the blink of an eye the boy is gone, and she is standing in her childhood bedroom, breathless and believing.

“Goodbye,” she whispers, but she knows they will never really leave.

#ask me things #btsats #sheith #ficlet #voltron #THIS WAS SO FUN AND I HAD TO #Anonymous

86 notes · View notes

sippin-on-red-wine · 7 years ago

Text

High Tide | Chapter 6: Let Me Explain

Title: High Tide, Chapter 6 | Author: @sippin-on-red-wine Rating: 17+, Mature (Sexy times) Word Count: 5,847 Author’s Note: Sorry in advance?

It’s been a while, so just as a refresher, our last chapter ended with Kendra missing Ed terribly after he had been gone for a couple of days. She had written him a little poem, sending it off in an e-mail in the middle of the night. The only response back was an automated e-mail from British Airways, with a one-way ticket to London, leaving that same day.

Ed…………

I put the last of the clean dishes away and dried my hands on a kitchen towel. Stuart said he was off to nip a quick shower so I walked back out to the lounge room to check on the girls. Libby was posted up on the big, cherry-toned leather couch, working on a knitting project. The tube was turned on, but neither of them seemed to be paying attention to it. Kendra’s messy bun peeked over the back of the oversized chair she sat in, her legs extended out in front of her over the matching ottoman. Her head was thrown back against the head of the chair and I realized she was asleep.

“What did you do to my girl?” I asked, jabbing a fake punch into Lib’s shoulder.

“She was knackered I guess, Arthur climbed up into her lap and she was giving him pets and then just… passed out.”

“I’m surprised she made it this long, I suppose. She wasn’t able to get any sleep on the plane, rocky flight I guess, so I think she’d been up for like, 28 hours or something.”

Lib hit me with her clump of yarn and knitting needles. “And you made her come ‘round here for dinner? You twit.”

I had mentioned to Kendra that we had an open invitation, but that we could skip out if she was too exhausted. She genuinely insisted that we come.

“D’you mind if we stay a while?” I asked, looking up at the clock. It was already a little past ten p.m. “I don’t want to wake her, and we hadn’t really decided where we were going to stay yet, anyway.”

I crossed around the couch and plunked down next to Libby, kicking my feet up on the coffee table.

“What’s that all about? You’ve got a house, yeah?” She asked.

“Eh, yeah, but it’s just… it’s not home. I stayed there last night and I slept on the couch myself. I’m not even comfortable there, can’t imagine how she would feel, you know, being there and knowing about everything.”

“Shit, Ed, I hadn’t really thought of that. You’ve booked a hotel or something, then?”

“Well, not yet. I brought her round the house earlier and we talked a bit about it. Told her I was thinking about selling it, and why.”

“I really like her, Ed.”

“Yeah, Lib, me too.”

“You seem… good. You’re acting like yourself around her, which is good. I’m surprised you asked her to come out here though, I thought you were only staying a few days?”

“Eh, just.. missed her,” I said, waving my hands nonchalantly.

“Oh my God, Ed, really? Couldn’t last a few days on your own? Is she that special or are you just… I don’t know, paranoid?”

“Really laying into me, aren’t you Lib?” I half-joked.

“Sorry, love, just being real with you.”

“It’s ok. No, it’s not that. I just… ‘S different, with her.”

Libby reached out and ruffled my hair. “You’re a softie, Ed. I’m gonna turn in. You know where the extra pillows and blankets are. Stay the night, if you’d like.”

“'Night, Lib,” I grinned at her.

I got up after her, heading to the linen closet to pull down a couple of pillows and an extra throw blanket. I stopped into the kitchen and fixed myself another whiskey and Coke, and grabbed my iPad from my rucksack. My sleeping schedule was definitely messed up, too, and I wasn’t too tired yet.

I set my things down on the coffee table and leaned over Kendra, brushing a soft kiss onto the side of her face. Sweet girl…

Kendra……..

My eyelids felt like lead, as I slowly came to. I didn’t even remember falling asleep, exactly, and I had no idea how long I had been passed out. I opened my right eye just a stitch, and the room seemed dark. That was a good sign. I opened them slowly and the room came into focus, lit by the dull embers burning out in the fireplace.

Shit. It was coming back to me now, we had just finished up dinner, Stuart and Ed offered to clean up. Libby had asked if I wanted another glass of wine, which I agreed to, knowing it was a bad idea for how exhausted I was. The last thing I remembered was petting their little dog in my lap and then apparently I had passed out.

I had no idea what time it was, everything was quiet. Did they leave me here alone? I sat upright in the chair, pushing the ottoman away with my feet.

Ed popped up on the couch then, apparently woken by the sound of the cushy ottoman scraping across the floor. He wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Hi, sleepyhead.”

I crept up out of the chair, feeling about 99 years old. I was fucking beat, still. Ed pushed back the blanket and patted the couch next to him, motioning for me to come over.

I sidled in close to him on the sofa, facing toward him. I ran my hand up his side as he covered me up with the blanket. “Sorry, Ed, I didn’t mean to fall asleep…” I yawned.

“I feel like that is a recurring theme, love,” he laughed. “But you had a good reason.” He pressed a kiss into my forehead as I snuggled in tighter to his body.

“Did Stuart and Libby go to bed? I feel bad.”

“Hours ago, love. It’s okay, I told them you didn’t get a chance to sleep on the plane at all.”

I yawned again, nuzzling into Ed’s chest when my mouth finally closed.

His hands absentmindedly stroked my hair, brushing it off my face into a neat little pile.

“It’s okay, baby, you can go back to sleep,” he whispered.

“Here?” I asked.

“You know I used to live on this sofa, right, love? You’re good. I got you. Sweet dreams, Kenny,” he whispered.

Don’t mind if I do. I couldn’t believe I was here, half a world away, with Ed. In his world. His life. His people. Just yesterday (day before? Who knows) I was moping around my house, organizing and cooking and working out, trying to pass the time while Ed was away. And now I’m here.

The flight had been absolutely horrible. I was a bit of a nervous flyer – once we were in the air, it usually didn’t bother me much. But the flight had been a little rough & bumpy which freaked me the hell out. I hadn’t slept a wink. It had been such a relief when I had gotten through security & customs to see Ed standing there, looking sleepy in his sweatpants and slippers, a hat covering his fluffy mop of hair. A taller, scruffy-looking man was with him (must be Kevin? I guess airports can be a bit dodgy as far as crowds). Ed had slung off my backpack and wrapped me up in the biggest hug ever as soon as he got to me. A huge grin cast across his face as he pulled on my backpack, taking us over to the baggage carousel where we retrieved my bags. He insisted on carrying all of my things himself, declining offers from both Kev & I. He still somehow managed to clasp his hand in mine. The boy had been on Cloud 9 to see me. It made me feel really good about my decision to come here.

What would the next few days bring? I hoped to see Lauren and the rest of the gang that had come out to New England. Would Ed want me to meet his parents? I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. And what about his house? It had felt so… sterile. After Ed had picked me up from the airport, he took me back to his house. Flat cardboard boxes and packaging tape were littered everywhere. I didn’t know if that was from him, or from when his ex moved out.

He told me he was thinking of selling the house. That it didn’t feel like his home - it never had. He hadn’t been here to make it feel that way, just randomly spending an odd week here and there while his ex lived here full-time. Apparently banging other dudes. I honestly didn’t blame Ed for not wanting to be there, but it was a beautiful house. I told him to change some things up, paint, pick out a few new furniture pieces, see if that helped. He had seemed a little bit hopeful at the thought, but still asked if I wanted to book a hotel room for our time here.

Okay I guess I’m wide awake now. I turned over onto my other side, trying to get comfortable. Nope, that’s worse. I flipped back over to face him, Ed’s own sleepy eyes opening slowly now.

“Love? “‘S matter?” He asked, groggily.

“Wide awake.” I grumped, silently cursing my body.

“C’mere,” he said, rolling onto his back while his strong hands helped shift me onto his chest. My legs wrapped around either side of him, my pelvis pressed against his. I could feel his cock, semi-solid beneath me.

“Mmm, I think someone missed me,” I teased, trying to keep my voice to a whisper. My hips rolled over him in waves, acting of their own accord. His cock was hardening quickly, easy to sense through just the thin layer of my leggings against his faded old sweats. I let my clit roll over his head, feeling him grow right under me. I could feel myself getting wet already.

Ed kissed my neck, the wetness from his lips cooling quickly when he moved on, leaving a slight chill on my skin.

“I need you…” his voice trailed off. Those three simple words had made all my blood rush to my skin and I forgot about the stupid flight, the exhaustion, the unknown, and all I wanted was to be connected to him again.

“But, Teddy.. here?” I almost didn’t care that we were on his manager’s couch, maybe 50 feet from where he & his girl were asleep in their bedroom. Too late, his hands were already pushing at the waistband of my leggings, tugging them down off my hips.

“It’s okay, we’ll be quiet…”

I lifted my hips, allowing Ed to push my leggings down and away, bringing one leg at a time forward so he could peel them all the way off. I wanted to see him, his skin, the rainbow designs that covered his chest, but there was no time to figure out the logistics of getting his t-shirt off. I needed him now.

I tugged down his sweatpants & boxers, lifting my pelvis up so I could shimmy them down to the tops of his thighs. His cock sprung free, bobbing lazily up towards his belly until I grasped it, rubbing my thumb over the slit, spreading the little bit of wetness over his head.

His big blue eyes looked up at mine. I held his gaze while I worked myself upward a bit, his cock firmly in hand, and I lined myself up with his head.

I hadn’t had enough foreplay, so him entering me was definitely slow-going. I let my body slide down, taking him in little by little, savoring each moment. His thumb was on my clit, rubbing down over the top of it. I stifled a moan and exhaled, letting him inside me just a bit deeper.

I pulled up at the hem of my shirt so I could watch him work, biting at my bottom lip as a reminder to keep quiet. His hand wrapped around my hip, fingers digging into my soft flesh, while his perfect thumb applied a delicious pressure to my clit.

He was fully buried in me, now, the plump head of his cock touching my back wall. But I was so distracted by the way his thumb was massaging me, I wasn’t riding him properly, just sort of… rolling my hips in a lazy figure-eights, trying to remember to keep hushed.

I stole a glance at him and caught his eyes on my face, watching as my brows dipped down and my mouth fell open. His rock-hard shaft standing tall inside of me, filling every millimeter of space I had.

He knew exactly what I liked, what my body needed in order to get there. The perfect circles floating over my little pink bundle of nerves were the perfect rhythm, the perfect tempo, a true symphony of sensations from the calloused pad of just one of his skilled fingers.

I inhaled, drawing in a sharp breath and held it there, feeling that familiar tension building.

The glow from the dying embers lit the room just enough for me to see every line of Ed’s face as he lovingly attended to my needs before his own. His eyes were trained on me, the way my sex wrapped around his erection, the pad of his thumb rubbing over the top of my slit. My body had responded quickly, wettening as he stimulated me, my soft fluids building up a little around where my entrance met his soft curls down there.

Ed glanced up at me and I gave him a quick little nod to tell him I was close. I tried to hold back the little whimpering sounds that spilled from my lips as I was right on the precipice, trying to hold out, maintain that amazing sensation caught right between the before & after of an orgasm. “Shhh,” Ed reminded me, and I brought my hand up to my mouth, sinking my teeth into my own wrist to stifle my little noises.

He thrust upward into me and that was all I needed. I doubled over, burying my face into the crook of his neck, grateful for his soft t-shirt as I ground my face into it, delighting in the friction.

“Love it when you come apart on my cock like that, you’re so beautiful, baby,” He whispered in my ear, barely audible. His hips moved up into me, slowly, and I mewled back at him to show my approval.

“I missed this so much, Teddy,” I breathed.

“Lookit me, love.”

I pressed my hands to his chest and raised my body back up to my original upright straddle position, tucking my hair behind my ear, feeling his gaze land on my face. My hands dragged down his torso and I leaned forward on them, using the leverage to ride his cock in the soft, dim light of the room. Our bodies moved in sync; my hips meeting each thrust, taking him deeper into my body.

It wasn’t long before I heard his breath hitch and felt his body tense up beneath me. I tightened my walls around his cock and actually felt him twitch inside me as he reached his climax, his seed spilling into me as he rasped out my name in a hushed cry.

I leaned forward again, seeking out his pillow-soft lips.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Kenn,” he said softly. His hands cupped my face and our lips connected.

“Ed, where’s the bathroom?” I asked, suddenly remembering that I was pantsless, on the couch in someone else’s home, and had the unfortunate predicament of being full of Ed’s fluids.

“Oh, shit, it’s all the way down the hall… oh, I’m sorry babe.” He looked at the coffee table. “Here, let me help you.” He reached out and snagged a couple of tissues from the little box on the table.

I tilted back upright and slowly raised myself off of him, fixing my stare down there. Ed watched too, as the shiny, plump head of his cock reappeared, his sticky fluids spilling back out over his tip. He caught it quickly with the tissue, folding it and tenderly running the length of my slit to catch any excess. I’m pretty sure I blushed, and silently thanked the heavens above that the room was fairly dark. It wasn’t the first time Ed had been generous in helping me “clean up” after sex, and he was the first partner I’d had who had done so.

“Thank you…” I muttered, swinging a leg over Ed’s body and un-mounting him.

I padded down the hallway, leggings in tow, fingers crossed that Stuart and Libby would be sound asleep in their bed. I used the toilet, cleaned up a bit and splashed my face with water before donning the tight black leggings again.

By the time I made it back to the sofa, Ed had cleaned up, disposing of the little ball of wet tissue, and was fully clothed again. I climbed back onto the thick cushions of the couch, facing him, our legs intertwined. He fluffed the throw blanket over us, then smoothed the hair off my forehead.

“Have I mentioned how happy I am that you’re here?” He chuffed.

I chuckled. “Yeah, just once or twice today.”

“I can’t help it… I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

I thought back to that night, the e-mail notification coming through. The feeling of my heart jumping out of my throat as it dawned on me that the e-mail was in fact, a plane ticket. My gut reaction had been No, sorry, no way. His family, his career, they come first - better get used to it now. I argued back and forth with myself for about an hour before the “Fuck it, just go.” side won out.

“I wasn’t totally sure I would, either.” I admitted. His face fell a little, so I explained. “I knew you were here to spend time with family & friends, I didn’t want to get in the way of that…”

“Kendra.” His voice was strong. “You will never be 'in the way’ of anything. You know how I feel about you.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I deflected by kissing him.

“I mean it.” He insists.

Another kiss.

“Kenny, I want you to meet them.”

Um… what.

“Who?” I asked, probably sounding like a huge idiot.

“My family.”

“Like, your parents?”

He chuckled softly. “I’ve freaked you out, haven’t I?”

I counted the weeks backwards in my head, trying to figure out when Ed and I had even first met. It couldn’t have been more than… what… a month, six weeks?

“They want to meet you, too,” He was at it again, light-hearted, watching my face for a reaction.

“Me?” He nodded. “Your parents?”

“You daft, gorgeous creature - yes. They want to meet you.”

“How do they even know about me?”

“You don’t give me much credit, do you, love? I told them about you weeks ago.”

“You did?”

“You ask a lot of questions, you know.”

“Sorry, I just, I didn’t know you did that.”

Am I okay with that? With this? Isn’t it too soon? By whose standards?

“It’s fast, I know, Kenny. If you’re not ready–”

“No.” my voice was hushed as I stared up into his beautiful blue eyes, all framed by blonde lashes. “I want to.”

Ed…………

It had been a whirlwind couple of days, even by my standards. But in the best way. Having Kenn here was so perfect, she fit into my life so easily. We had just left my parent’s house where we had visited for supper and a couple of cocktails before heading out.

Kendra had been nervous on the drive over there, her palm a bit sweaty as it was tucked up into my hand. But if her nerves lasted much past the first introductions, it didn’t show a bit. I was actually surprised how well she hit it off with my Dad. He had asked about her tour boat company and that turned into a heated, passionate tangent on all things watercraft. My Dad had taken her back to his office to show her this oil painting of some old wooden boat, and Kenn had flipped; apparently her Grandfather had owned one just like it and they had worked together on restoring it when she was a bit younger. Small world, right?

After dinner, I helped my Mom clean up in the kitchen while Dad took Kendra outside to show her his prized Chris Craft, stored away for the season in the large shed in the backyard. They burst back into the house laughing, their conversation a bit louder than your typical post-dinner talk (probably thanks to the bourbon). It was really lovely.

We were back in the car now, heading back to London, Kendra snuggled up in the passenger seat beside me. But her body was angled away, toward the car door, and she was awfully quiet all of a sudden.

“Tired, love?” I asked. We had planned to go to a birthday celebration for one of my school mates later that evening, but I wondered if she would be up for it. I knew better than most what a bitch jet-lag could be.

“No, I’m alright.” she responded, her voice sounding a bit small. “It’s just, your family is really great, Ed.”

“They really liked you, I can tell, babe.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be ‘off’. It’s just, not… what I’m used to. But it’s good. I liked them too. You’re really lucky, Ed.”

She wasn’t wrong. It was sometimes easy to forget that not everyone had been fortunate enough to have the same upbringing that I did. I hadn’t even considered how it must feel to see something like that for the first time. Prat.

“So!” she said, clearly changing the subject. “Where is it that we’re going tonight?”

“Oh, this new-er club downtown. I forget the name, to be honest.”

She shifted her body, angling it back towards me, which for some reason gave me a sense of relief. “So it’s not, like, a pub?” She asked, trying out the lingo. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“No, it’s a proper nightclub.”

“Oh.. I didn’t really plan for that, Ed. All I’ve got with me are jeans and a couple sweaters?”

I didn’t care what she wore, of course, but I didn’t want her to feel underdressed. Kendra was quite a natural beauty and I loved her casual style. But figured most of the other women there would be decked out to the nines, per usual.

“One of my mates owns a clothing boutique – we could swing by there and pick something up for you?” I offered.

“Sure, Teddy. That sounds good.”

I smiled, clasping her hand in mine. I could really get used to this.

Kendra……..

The driver stepped out to open the sliding door for us, Ed hopping out into what looked like a skeezy alley way to me. But I took his hand and let him help me down out of the van, I was a little unsteady in my high-heeled booties.

Ed had taken me over to his friend’s clothing boutique and waited so patiently as I tried on at least 10 different things. I finally settled on this tight-as-hell bodycon dress in a dark navy color. It was short and showed a LOT of leg, but Ed seemed to really love it on me. He tried to pay for it, and when I immediately shot him down, he retaliated by secretly picking out a pair of stupid expensive heeled boots to go with my dress. It seemed very unlike him to be interested in stuff like that, but the lusty look on his face when I had tried that dress on erased that from my mind pretty quickly.

He kept my hand clasped in his and let me a little ways down to a big steel set of double-doors. He knocked, and one door swung open. A gruff-looking guy in all black appeared, looking Ed up & down. He nodded a gruff approval and let us in. Ed must have been here before because he knew exactly which dark hallway to walk down to get into the main interior room of the club.

It was actually really beautiful, all art deco & speakeasy type vibes. Classic London-style lampposts littered the great expanse of the club, dim lightbulbs casting a yellow glow through the glass lanterns. The center of the room featured a marbled black-and-white checkered floor, it was clear of furniture and filled with patrons dancing. There was a long, full bar up against the wall, and a dramatic curved staircase that looked to lead up to a big loft. Ed pulled me toward the staircase, which was roped off with two security guys watching over it. They spotted Ed & I coming and unhooked the rope, allowing us entry. We climbed the staircase up into the VIP lounge section, which was actually a lot more spacious than I originally thought.

There was a smaller version of the downstairs bar up here, manned by two bartenders dressed in black button-down shirts & white vests. There were a few swanky, quilted booths and pub-height cocktail tables. I saw a billiards table and dartboard set up in the corner. We must have been fairly early, there were only about ten or fifteen people here so far.

“Mate!” A petite, sandy-haired guy spotted Ed and was making his way over with open arms.

Ed greeted with an enthusiastic hug & kiss on the cheek. “Happy Birthday, mate!” He said, breaking away. “Chris, this is Kendra, Kendra - Chris.”

I extended my hand, but Chris pulled me into a hug. “Nice to meet you, Kendra. Welcome! Let me introduce you to everyone!”

I laughed, thinking the birthday boy had already had plenty of celebration booze. But I went along with it, watching as Ed stalked over to the corner to say some more Hellos while Chris whisked me the opposite way, interrupting everyone’s conversations to introduce me. Everyone was really lovely, and they didn’t ask me a ton of questions or make me feel weird, I was just kind of…absorbed into their conversations. It was really nice. I spent quite a bit of time with a small group of three guys, posted up at the bar, talking about our favorite comedians - Jim Jefferies in particular. It wasn’t an intellectual conversation, by any means, we mostly tried (and failed) to imitate his thick Australian accent while reciting memorable bits from his shows.

Every once in awhile, I would catch Ed glancing over at me, and I’d give him a small smile or head nod to let him know I was having a good time. He had a pint of beer in his hand, which seemed to be a problem for him, since he talked with his hands so much. I saw the amber-colored ale he was drinking slosh out over the sides on more than one occasion.

Another group of six or seven appeared at the top of the stairs, and I saw Pete was among them. I caught his eye right away and waved him over, giving him a big hug.

“Hey, man, great to see you again!” It was nice to see him, but the vodka-soda’s I’d been downing were making me appear more enthusiastic than normal.

“You too, Kenn! I had no idea you were in London??”

“Yeah, last minute, unplanned kinda thing. Hey, is Lauren around? I feel bad, I haven’t gotten a chance to see her yet since I got in.”

“She should be here any time now. Say, I’m gonna go catch Chris and tell him Happy Birthday before I get sloshed and forget. Catch up with you later!” and he was gone.

I turned back to the bar and ordered another cocktail when I felt a pair of hands on my backside. I whipped my head around and, luckily, it was Ed. “You shithead,” I faux-scolded. “Scared me.”

“And good thing, too, love - you can’t trust any of these skeezers up here,” he chuckled, planting a kiss on the side of my cheek. He sidled on into the bar beside me, his right hand cupping my ass.

He was awfully touchy-feely all of a sudden, was it the alcohol? I was starting to feel a bit …needy… myself. Ordinarily I wouldn’t have cared, but I couldn’t help but notice a few people watching as his hands were on me, his mouth on my neck, there in the middle of the lounge. A girl in a silver-y sequined skirt stole more than a few glances before Ed overheard a story someone was telling two barstools down and got distracted, peeling himself away from me for a bit.

Ed excused himself to “take a leak” as he so eloquently put it. I swiveled around on my barstool and spotted Lauren chatting with a couple girls near the top of the stairs. I saw her glance my way and threw up a hand, waving at her.

I watched as she excused herself and made her way over to the bar, wrapping me up in a big hug. “Kendra?! I didn’t even recognize you – Holy shit, girl, you look phenomenal.”

“Ohmygod, YOU look great! So good to see you, Lo,”

“Wait, what the hell are you doing here?” she asked, incredulous.

“I know, I’m sorry I haven’t called yet since I got in, it’s been a crazy couple of days – I’m here, with Ed.”

“Like, here with Ed?” Her eyes were doing a shifty thing. “Where is he?”

“Bathroom…. Why… Lauren, you’re being weird?”

“Kendra, don’t freak out. But his Ex is here. She’s in the silver skirt behind me.” My eyes darted over her shoulder, recognizing the girl that had been stealing glances this way for the last hour or so.

Wait… she’s been here that long… surely, Ed noticed her? Why didn’t he say anything?

“Kenn, look at me, are you freaking out? It’s the same group of friends from high school, everyone knew she was going to be here for Chris’ birthday. Ed didn’t tell you?”

And suddenly it clicked. The special shopping trip, Ed insisting I get this dress that clung so desperately to my curves and showed far more thigh than I was used to. The $2,000 Louboutin booties he insisted I needed, citing the club dress code. His sudden interest in PDA; grabbing ass and kissing my neck, the first time he’d even been in the same half of the lounge as me all night.

All because she was here.

Lauren was holding both of my shoulders, giving me a little shake, breaking my trance.

“Kendra? Say something.” Her voice was alarmed. Rightfully so.

I took a deep breath, holding the oxygen in my lungs until it burned, then exhaled. “I just need a few minutes by myself, please, Lo. I’ll be right back.” I lied, grabbing my little clutch off the bar and strode over to the staircase with every intention of leaving the bar and getting an Uber straight to the fucking airport.

I couldn’t believe it, I’d been duped. I had never felt so humiliated in my life. Here I was, the lost little puppy who jumped on a plane and flew across the world on 12 hours notice, for Ed. Met his fucking parents for Christ’s Sake. I replayed all of the sweet, intimate moments of assurance he had laid on so thick. This isn’t just sex. You’re my girl. You’re not a rebound. You know how I feel about you.

And for what? So he could USE me to make his cheating whore of an ex-girlfriend jealous?

I was closing in on the bottom of the stairs when I heard Ed shout my name from the landing at the top. His voice shot right through my bloodstream, I knew without a doubt it was him, and I could hear the panic in his voice. I didn’t even turn back to look.

I silently urged the dumb security guys to unhook the rope faster, and thrust myself across the barrier the second I was able to. My feet, adorned in the ridiculous high-heeled booties, carried me swiftly across the black-and-white checked floor and toward the bar, where I spotted the main entrance. Ed was shouting my name behind me, which only urged me to press on faster.

I slipped out the large glass doors of the main entrance and spilled out onto the sidewalks of London. I had no idea where I was, or where I was going, I just knew I needed to get out of there, fast.

I kept expecting white-hot tears to come, to tumble out of my eyes like a hot spring, but my eyes stayed dry. Anger, furious anger, was growing in my chest, instead. It started out small, a little pebble lodged there. But the more I thought about him, his words, his hands on me just now in the bar - the bigger my pebble grew. It grew and grew until I couldn’t help but scream. I screamed but nothing came out, my chest was so tight, I couldn’t even catch my breath.

A hand grasped the back of my arm and I whirled around to see Ed, out of breath, having chased me down the sidewalk. “Kenny, – please, jus’, please just let – let me explain!” He pled. His strong hands held both of my elbows as I tried to catch my breath.

I swung my arms out, breaking our connection, and this action seemed to puncture and re-inflate my lungs.

“DON’T touch me!”

“Baby, I’m so sorry, please let’s just go home, please, I need to –”

“Leave me alone,” I hissed, turning back around, determined to put as much space between us as I could. I just felt so blindsided and the last thing I wanted in the world was his touch.

But he was after me again, his hand grabbing my bicep to try to turn me around. I whisked around and slapped him clean across the face, the flat of my palm making perfect contact with his scruffy cheek.

“Fuck off! Usually people just *use* me for my money, Ed, but I guess there’s a first time for fucking EVERYTHING.” I shouted, in hysterics. He touched a palm to his cheek, flushed pink from where I had struck him. His eyes were glassy, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “You know what, I’d rather be used for my money than whatever the fuck THAT was,” I shrieked, pointing back at the club.

“Kendra, please. I’m s-so so-sorry,” There were no sounds of sobs but tears were streaming steadily from both of his ocean-blue eyes.

But in the moment, I didn’t care. I was so furious. I felt like I had been lulled into a fake sense of security, only to be woken by a bucket of ice water being dumped on me.

My voice was a bit steadier now. “I’m gone, Ed. Find another warm body to empty yourself into and parade around for people.”

The universe was looking out for me in that moment, as a cab was slowly driving by, and I hailed them down and swiftly got in, slamming the door shut behind me.

I watched through the tinted window of the backseat as the vehicle carried me away from Ed.

#ed sheeran #ed sheeran fanfic #ed sheeran fan fic #ed sheeran smut

37 notes · View notes