#and a little wooden kitchen cart

[therealvalkyrie]

my grandma died this weekend. here are some things we've found on day one of cleaning out her house:

a drawer full of twist ties and aluminum yogurt covers

3 plastic bags full of other plastic bags

a drawer of plastic scoops from various supplements etc

3 packs of nicorette gum hidden in completely separate places

a vape pen hidden in the cabinet above the microwave

a big can full of expired instant milk

a whole closet and 2 cabinets full of various plastic and glass jars, tupperware, tubs, containers, etc

an unquantifiable number of mysterious pills, supplements, essential oils, and spices

shabbat candles? she wasn't jewish

a nonfunctional vacuum

a cracked pizza stone

[wandasslut3000]

Welcome home

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, fluff, mommy!kink, semi-clothed sex, pet names, sub!reader, praise, hair tugging, scissoring, cunnilingus, fingering, marking, teasing, choking, long distance relationship?

WC: 2.4k

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Lizzie was coming back home today. She'd been out of state for the past few weeks for her new movie, and although you couldn't be more proud of her, you’d missed your girlfriend painfully.

She'd FaceTime you every night before bed and wake you up with a good morning text.

Sometimes she'll call just to ask how you've been or if you'd eaten yet, always making you smile for how much she cares.

Lizzard🦎💚: Good morning princess, I'm boarding my plane. I can't wait to see you <3

Y/n: Yayy I'm so happy! Text me when you land baby, have a safe flight!

You bring your phone up to your chest, a wave of excitement flowing through you. You head into the kitchen and decide to make yourself breakfast, a simple eggs and toast.

Tapping your feet on the tile floor, you munch happily on your food, humming your own tune and thinking about all the things you'd do once you're back in Lizzie's arms.

Your mind starts to drift off into more explicit train of thought, imagining how her slender fingers would feel around your throat, how sweet she'd taste on your tongue, how fast she'd make you cum after so much time apart.

You blink rapidly, trying to ignore the growing wetness between your legs and regain your focus back to your eggs. You finish them in record speed, popping hints of toast into your mouth with each bite.

Once you finish, you wash your dishes. You then leave the kitchen and grab your keys, making your way outside and down the stairs of your complex. You get inside your car, start it and back out of the parking lot.

You drive yourself over to the nearest flower shop, parking your car in front of it and stepping out.

Heading inside the store, your nostrils are instantly flooded with the smell of all the surrounding plants.

You go straight for the roses, Lizzie's favorite, also making sure to grab some gardenias, mixing them in with the bouquet to help it pop.

You ask the florist to have a custom tag written on the side of the bouquet, a smile on your face as you wait patiently for him to make it and ring you up. 

Once you pay, you drive over to your local grocery store, grabbing a shopping cart and pushing it to the candy section. You grab a large chocolate bunny, and the cliche heart shaped box and put it inside.

You notice a wooden basket in the aisle across from you, grabbing it, you continue shopping till you're left with a stuffed teddy bear, a card, a fluffy blanket with little dogs on it and the chocolates from before.

You check out and drive back home, starting to set up your gift basket. You put the everything inside and start writing in the card you bought.

I'm so proud of you for being the big beautiful star I knew you'd always shine to be. I love you Lizzie.

You sign it, drawing a little heart next to your name, putting it in with everything else.

You grab your flowers, "Welcome home" written on the ribbon wrapping it, and place them next to basket on the table for the moment.

Your next task is getting yourself ready. You rush into your bathroom, stripping yourself of your clothes and going to take a shower.

As you make quick work to shave and keep yourself clean for her, the thoughts from earlier start coming back, a blush tainting your cheeks as you feel your core tingle.

Still, you regain your composure, finishing your shower and drying yourself off. You take a quick glance at your phone, knowing the flight from New York to L.A is only a few hours, and you'd already spent a good chunk of them shopping.

You find yourself a pair of white underwear with a tiny pink bow on it and decide to not to wear a bra, knowing that if anything were to happen, she wouldn't want to waste time on the pesky garment.

You throw on her burgundy NYU sweatshirt, and grey sweatpants, smiling when you realize her shirt still smells like her.

Sitting at your vanity you start to do your makeup, nothing too much, just a natural look.

You couldn't look a mess for the love of your life now could you?

Just as you finish up, you get a text from Lizzie telling you she'd landed and was in an Uber on the way home.

Your heart flutters, that rush of excitement returning to you as you feel butterflies in your stomach.

You sit on the couch, facing the door, the flowers in your hand as you wait for her like an obedient puppy, clutching your phone as you fight the urge to call her and ask how much longer she'd take.

As if right on cue, you hear the front door handle jiggle, Lizzie stepping inside with her luggage, your first instinct is to run up and practically pounce onto her.

"Baby!" You squeal.

She gasps, letting go of her bag and catching you as you wrap your arms around her, the flowers almost falling out of your grasp. She presses a kiss to your cheek, making you blush before you turn to kiss her.

"Well hello to you too." She grins, pecking your lips a few times, closing the door behind you two with her foot and setting you down, noticing the gifts you'd gotten her.

You hand her the bouquet and her smile widens. "Is this for me?" You nod, suddenly feeling shy as you notice the adoration in her eyes. "Got you presents."

Lizzie sniffs the flowers and her smile widens, she steps further inside your shared apartment, she makes her way up to the coffee table, her mouth opening slightly as she notices all the things you put together for her.

"You're so good to me." She turns to you, tears welling up in her eyes as she pulls you into a hug, kissing the crown of your head.

"You work so hard Liz, you deserve it." Gently, she backs away, turning to examine your gift basket.

The first thing she picks up is your card, opening it and a pout forming on her face. You look down at your feet bashfully, waiting for her to see the rest of her treats.

Slowly, she takes each out one by one, the chocolates, the bear and the blanket. She bites her lip in thought. You look up, "I would've gotten more but.. I didn't know if I had enough time."

She shakes her head, turning to you with her arms wide. She pulls you into her and picks you up again, your legs wrapping around your torso as your arms wrap around her neck, foreheads pressed against one another.

"This is more than enough babygirl, you make me feel so special. I only wish I'd gotten you something."

You shake your head, "You being here is a gift in itself, I'm so happy you're home." You kiss her again, leaving little pecks all over her face, making her giggle.

Lizzie walks the two of you over to your shared bedroom, laying down in bed together with your arms still securely around each other, you straddling her lap.

You start to press kisses onto her neck, sucking at the skin at the column of her throat, little marks forming in their wake.

Lizzie groans, pushing your head closer as she feels your hands slip under her shirt, your cold hands on her hot skin making her shiver.

"I missed you so much." You murmur against her, "Wanted to feel you everyday."

Lizzie backs away for a second to unbutton her blouse, revealing a gray laced bra. You moan at the sight, looking up at her for approval before you reached behind her to unclip it, discarding the fabrics.

You leave your marks on the tops of her breasts, moving downwards and circling your tongue around her areola, Lizzie throbbing at the feeling.

Just as you switch to the other breast, you're flipped onto your back, pinned underneath her as she kisses you, tongue swiping your lip, asking for entrance.

You grant it to her, whimpering into her mouth as she takes over. Your hands go to her hair, tugging the silky brown locks as you wrap your legs around her to keep her close.

She breaks the kiss, slipping off her pants and panties, leaving her bare in front of you. She shifts down between your legs, spreading them and rubbing up and down your thighs.

"So pretty like this, in my shirt all precious, my gorgeous girl." You blush at her praise.

"Lizzie please-"

"That's not my name is it now?" She mockingly pouts at you, tilting her head

"I'm sorry.. mommy."

"Much better." You're practically plead for her to give you anything, begging her and trying to reason that it's been too long without her, you'd missed her touch, her hands on you.

You needed her.

Lizzie finally gives in, bunching the sweater up and pushing it past your breasts, revealing them to her. You try to pull it off but she grabs your hand.

"Don't. Keep it on." You obey and lay back onto the pillows.

She takes a nipple into her mouth, the other getting twisted by her slim fingers. Your body quivers, little moans escaping you at the feeling of her toying with your chest.

Still, you craved more. "Mommy touch me... please I need it so bad."

She chuckles "Am I not touching you right now darling?" She pinches your nipple, making you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Yes.. j- just need you down there." You tilt your head downward trying to gesture what you wanted.

"Down where princess? C'mon you can tell mommy, use your words." Your face flushes red in embarrassment, taking her hand and bringing it between your legs.

"Need mommy to play with my.. my big girl parts." She lets out a faux gasp, almost taunting you, tugging at the hem of your sweatpants and pulling them down.

She notices your underwear and bites her lip, fiddling with the little bow. "Such a pretty princess." You whine, bucking your hips up towards her as your wetness made the fabric almost transparent.

Lizzie rubs your slit through your panties, teasing you with two fingers and watching as you writhe underneath her, a dark smile drawing itself onto her face at your whimpers.

"P-please don't tease, I need you."

She pushes your panties to the side admiring your glistening cunt. Finally she makes contact with you, making you throw your head back, moaning at the feeling of her fingers on you.

"F-fuck." You groan when she dips two fingers into your entrance, not even giving you a moment to adjust as she pumps them into you.

"God I love this tight little pussy, no matter how many times I fuck it, it still grips mommy so good." You whimper, your hand reaching down to grab onto her forearm as she keeps a steady pace.

"Unh- mommy.. please don't stop." She smirks before bringing her head down, taking your clit into her mouth. "Oh my god."

Her tongue swirls around your bundle of nerves, your hand moving to grip onto her hair as she takes you. Your hips grind against her tongue while your legs tremble, the feeling of your climax approaching quickly.

"Fuck m’gonna cum, gonna cum on mommy's pretty face." Lizzie takes this moment to nibble on your throbbing pearl, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as you let out a guttural moan.

You feel the waves of your orgasm rush through you, your walls clenching around Lizzie's fingers as you slowing come down from your high.

You feel her press her lips to your pussy before trailing back upwards. Leaving quick kisses up your stomach and chest.

She pulls her fingers out of you, bringing them to your lips and watching as you suck the digits clean. Moaning at the taste of yourself.

Her free hand reaches down to wrap itself around your throat, gently squeezing the sides of your neck. Her tongue melds with yours when she kisses you.

Lizzie positions her wet heat onto yours, grinding against yours, making your nails dig into her forearm as you convulse in pleasure.

"M-mommy.. s-still sensitive..." She shushes you, licking a stripe from the column of your neck to your earlobe before taking it into your teeth.

"Take what I give you princess, good girls let their mommies handle them as they please."

You whine, your folds fluttering as you feel yourself getting closer. Lizzie's sloppy wetness brushing against yours in the best way, making you see stars.

"Mmph- ah.. fuck mommy!" You cum, your body trembling. She follows soon after, both of your breathing heavy and ragged as you come back down to earth.

"I love watching you fall apart." She cups your cheek making your heart flutter at her endearment.

"Mommy?" She looks down at you adoringly, raising her brow. "What is it baby?"

"Can I.. Can I taste you?" Her smile returns, nodding her head. She positions herself above you, your mouth watering when you notice the build up of her arousal between her lower lips.

You grab onto her thighs, pulling her down as Lizzie grabs onto the headboard. You start to lap at her cunt, her eyes rolling into her head as she praises you.

One of her hands reaches down and tugs on your hair, pulling you closer to her as feel yourself get drunk off her juices.

"Oh there you go angel, so fucking good." That last bit comes off in a growl, her body rocking against your face as she feels her climax wash through her, a blissed out grin on her face.

Lizzie drops back into bed, kissing your puffy lips, the both of you moaning into eachother's mouths.

She finally takes this time to take off the sweater, pulling your now naked body into her arms and cuddling you.

She traces invisible lines onto your back and the two of you sigh happily at the skin to skin contact. She presses a kiss to your forehead as you slowly start to feel yourself drift off into sleep.

Your eyes start to shut as you lose yourself in the safety of her arms. "I love you." Is the last thing you hear her whisper before you fall in a deep sleep.

[unboundprompts]

In a portal fantasy, like narnia, do you have any idea how a person coming there for the first time can earn money?

Ideas for Earning Money in a Fantasy World

Assisting someone in cleaning something. (houses, armor, swords, inns, etc.)

Selling vegetables grown from a garden. (either starting your own garden or stealing from someone else's.)

Odd quests. (a little old lady really needs you to collect six frog eyes and yes, that's gross, but she's going to pay you in gold coins so it's worth it.)

Running errands. (You need to take this very important letter to a neighboring kingdom and you'll be paid greatly if you survive.)

Cooking meals. (Maybe in your original world you're really good at cooking. Your skills will be useful in a kitchen that has no experience in meals you are used to. Providing new recipes will earn you a pretty penny.)

Kill the beast that's been terrorizing the town. (Good luck.)

Sign up to be a knight. (Free lodging, free meals, maybe you'll make a little money too.)

Selling collected items. (Travel from town to town with items you've stolen collected along the way and sell them.)

Become a fisherman/hunter. (Sell the fish you catch or the animals you kill.)

Hope someone takes pity on you. (Tell them you've fallen down a rabbit hole and are in a strange different world and all you have are the clothes on your back. Maybe they'll take you in and you can exchange chores for lodging and meals.)

Carpentry. (Learn how to carve and whittle wood into cute little figurines. Or learn to repair wooden items like carts, tools, etc.)

Play an instrument. (Play music in taverns or town squares.)

Offer protection. (If you know how to use a weapon, offer protection services to people traveling from town to town.)

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

[salchat]

This is my tiny, innocent Dean. I've drawn him for the story I'm working on at the moment, which I'm having tremendous fun with! It's a version of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca and is my first venture into the omegaverse, because I needed Dean to be the young omega who gets swept off his feet by the older, widowed Castiel Novak.

It could be a couple of weeks before I begin posting, because I have quite a few things to work out. I may add some Secret Garden to the mix, or a dash of Jane Eyre, just for fun. But one thing's for sure - the path to true love will not run smooth! This relationship is going to have a lot of issues to work through!

Anyway, if you'd like to read a scene, there's one below the cut...

The maitre d’s voice rang through the dining room.  “Alpha Castiel Novak!”

“Oh, good heavens!”  Mrs Butters’ shrill exclamation jolted Dean out of his daydreams.  “It's Castiel Novak! No, don't look!”

He had no intention of looking.  It’d just be another more-money-than-sense alpha knothead, puffing himself up to be admired and fawned over.  Dean didn’t give a shit.  Whereas Mrs B wet her panties every time some new high society stiff arrived at the hotel.  Still, spilling her shit-load of toxic gossip meant that Dean wasn’t getting lectured or slapped or whacked with the hard wooden edge of her fan, so he’d put on his best listening face and count it a win.

She leant toward him.  “Castiel Novak is one of The Novaks.  The Novaks, Dean.”

Who the fuck were the Novaks?

“Fabulously wealthy, one of the best traditional families.”

Assholes, then.

“Their estate is in Eversett.”  She frowned.  “Or Meldonshire.  Somewhere like that.”  She waved an airy hand, her eyes glued to the alpha’s position.  “Lebanon, the house is called.  One of the few Great Houses still being managed as it should.  Oh, he's coming this way! Oh good heavens! Oh my!”

Dean anchored his eyes to the salt and pepper set in order not to roll them.  Mrs B might not want to be seen slapping her omega companion in public, but she had a retentive memory for any little slip-up and would be sure to save up one of her best for later if she caught him.

“But sir, we can set another table next to the dance floor for you.  Really, it would be no trouble.”  The maitre d’ was going full-throttle with the smarm.

Dean didn’t catch the words of the response – just a rumble, like something heavy dragging over gravel.

“Or with a view of the terrace.  It would be the work of a moment, Mr Novak.  And a much more pleasant situation.”

The rumble was louder but no more distinct.

“Then please, allow me to bring a bottle of our best champagne.”

The gravel scraped again.  

“Whiskey.  Yes, of course, sir.  And the a la carte menu.”

The gravel stirred itself into a snarl.  Jeez, this guy was more knot-headed than most.

“A hamburger.  Of course, sir.  Followed by a slice of… pie.”  The weird newcomer might as well have requested a lump of dirt followed by a morsel of shit.  Dean couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk.  He couldn’t stop the rumble of his far from satisfied stomach either.

“Dean.”  The fan rapped his knuckles.  But she hadn’t noticed the smirk.  “Dean, stop daydreaming.  Sit up straight.”

Huh.  She was regretting taking the best chair now.  Dean, with the kitchen door flapping open and shut at his back and regular nudges to his chair from passing waiting staff, had a direct view to the next table-for-two.

Mrs B leant toward him.  “What’s he doing?”  Her pink lips moved in an exaggerated stage whisper.

“You want me to look at the alpha…uh, Mr Nover?  Novem?”

“Novak!  And yes, of course I want you to look!  Tell me what he’s doing!”

Dean looked up.  The alphas face was in shadow, downturned as if he were studying the thread-count of the tablecloth.  He had a lot of dark, messy hair.  One hand was visible, a fingertip pressing down on the blade of his fish knife so that the handle wobbled up and down.

“They say he can’t get over the death of his wife, you know.  Such a beauty, so spirited.  Amara was her name.  So sad.”  Restless fingers twitched at the stem of her wine glass.  “What’s he doing?”

“Nothing,” said Dean.  “Just sitting.”

“He must be doing something.”  Mrs B started twisting in her chair but caught herself in time, before she gave herself away as the insatiable rubber-necker that she was at heart.  “Tomorrow you can sit here and I’ll sit there!”

“Yes, ma’am.”  A passing waiter narrowly missed his head with a tray of soup.  She was welcome to Dean’s seat.

“Hasn’t he even smiled at the Contessa?  He must have noticed her, and I’m sure they know each other.  They were both at the Duke or Northerton’s ball two years ago last Christmas.”

The Contessa di Faraglione had been the object of Mrs B’s gossip for the past week since she’d arrived with her retinue of servants the week before.  She was old news now, though.  This Novak guy was the target now, and Dean would be used to help engineer an opportunity of speaking to him, which would be really embarrassing.  Like when Mrs B had made him take her card to the Contessa’s suite, claiming some kind of distant family connection.  The butler had told him to fuck off.  Probably.  Dean didn’t speak Italian.

A gust of warm, savoury air and a swell of noise at his back announced the opening of the kitchen door.  Dean hunched forward so he didn’t get a tray dumped on his head.  But the waiter was one of the more agile.  He swerved around Dean, hung a right and brought the tray down in a sweeping arc, perfectly timed to present its load to the occupant of the next table.

The occupant of the next table looked up at his meal and smiled.

And okay, yeah, it was a nice-looking hamburger.  Normally it would have had Dean transfixed, salivating with envy.  But it wasn’t the juicy patties and shiny, domed bun that brought Dean’s mind, his heart, his every-fucking-thing to a juddering halt.

Dean hadn’t seen the ocean until he was fifteen.  Before that it had been one dusty town after another, Dad dragging him and Sammy around like unwanted baggage.  But when a job had finally taken them to the coast, it’d been like all the heat and grime was washed away by that fresh, salty air.  And the colours in that huge ocean had taken his breath away.

It was the same now.  The drab, grey despair that made up Dean’s life was suddenly gone, and his world was full of ocean blue depths in the eyes of this strange alpha – strange but gorgeous, from his eyes to the soft bow of his lips to the commanding strength of his nose.  

Dean was heartily glad of his over-powdered cheeks.  Fuck, what was he thinking, blushing over some rich alpha who wouldn’t look at Dean once, let alone twice?  He really needed to get a hold of himself.

But the way that guy was looking at the burger was like he hadn’t eaten in years.  Imagine if he looked at Dean that way.  Although, maybe he’d been sick or something.  The shadows beneath his cheek bones looked sharper than they should and beneath his eyes too, little round ridges of dark cast by the bright chandeliers above them.  This alpha needed burgers and plenty of them.  Dean’s skin itched with the need to cook and cosset and caress, and Jesus fucking Christ, he was really losing it here, wasn’t he?  Really giving into his inner lapdog who just needed an alpha to boss him around to be happy.

The waiter flickered across Dean’s vision again and Mr Novak was left alone to enjoy his hamburger.  He picked up his knife and fork and raised them.  Which was a thing you did, Dean supposed, in a high-class dining room.  You ate a burger with a knife and fork.  But then his forehead crinkled into the suggestion of a frown.  He shook his head.  His rounded lips flattened into a tiny smile.  He put down his silverware.  And he picked up the burger in both hands.

“Close your mouth, Dean.”  Mrs B’s spoon scraped her bowl, chink, chink, chink, even though there was hardly any of the creamy sauce left.

Dean closed his mouth.  Then his eyes returned to the table over her shoulder.  Mr Novak hadn’t taken a bite.  He was still holding his hamburger in two hands, staring at it like he’d found the Holy Grail.

Then his eyes flicked up and fastened onto Dean’s.  Dean should look down.  He should drop his eyes like the shitty little omega-nothing that he was.  Instead he stared into the ocean.

And Mr Castiel Novak smiled at him.  Just a little smile.  Barely there before it was gone, and then he was chowing down on his meal, all his attention on his food, his eyes closing as he chewed his first mouthful, then opening again to get a load of the burger cross-section he’d created.  Did it have pickle, Dean wondered?  Mayo, cheese, the works?  Would he bite down through the whole lot, getting all the flavours in at once, in between those perfect pink lips?  And was Dean salivating over the man or the burger?

He was looking at Dean again.  Looking and smiling and nodding as if they were having an actual conversation about how great hamburgers were in general and this one in particular.

“Dean!”  

A sharp pain on his knuckles brought Dean’s attention snapping back to his employer.

“Dean!  Bridge!  The Spanish drawing room!”

“Yes, ma’am.  Sorry, ma’am.”  Bridge.  Of course it was time for bridge.  His world closed in with an almost audible snap.  Bridge was played at eight o’clock sharp every night and Dean and Mrs B were there, every single night; she to play and gossip and drink sherry, he to sit in a corner and try not to exist too loudly until he was needed.

He pushed his chair back, clumsily, and was sworn at by a passing waiter.

“Dean!”

Jeez.  He wasn’t the one who’d sworn, was he?

“Yes, ma’am.”  He rounded the table and pulled out his employer’s chair and collected up her purse and her wrap.  And he didn’t even glance over his shoulder to the most perfect alpha he’d ever seen, as he followed her to another evening of excruciating dullness in his excruciatingly dull life.

[lovers-tucked-into-a-quiet-cafe]

Chapter 7 [IKYLHT]

~2k Words | Series Masterlist | Prev | Next Chapter

-

Body involuntarily jostling, your eyes snap open as you lurch into your safety belt, the plane rattling loudly.

Heart thumping, you look at each of the men around you. Somehow, they remain completely unaffected. Not a single cease in snores.

Gaz rests partially on your shoulder, slumped down as far as he possibly can be in his seat. Price is nowhere to be found, but a careful lean forward displays Simon- arms crossed, feet stretched out into the aisle.

Shit, I can’t blame him. I’d probably do the same if I had those legs.

You can’t see much more than Johnny’s mohawk, but you can hear his snoring from the other side of the aisle.

Unbuckling, you gently slide yourself from under Gaz and shuffle into the aisle on your right.

Thank god for that empty seat. Might genuinely be the only woman on the entire damn flight.

For a bunch of trained soldiers, the plane was not stealthy or silent. A good percentage of these men must have broken their nose once or twice in combat because the amount of deviated septums on the aircraft was criminal.

Moving towards the front of the plane, you smile at the flight attendant before rummaging through their snack stash.

Fortunately, most CRAF flight attendants had either moved on from their original aviation company and joined the AFA as a freelancer (essentially), or were young, hardworking flight attendants that were convinced by the union to volunteer for their country one microwaved meal at a time.

Regardless, they didn’t mind when soldiers tried to cram in a few more calories during the flight, and that’s what mattered right now.

Opening the little cart-refill cubby, you scoop some ice into the tiny plastic cup and pour in a coke, sipping as you shuffle around the meal options.

Beef, chicken, vegetarian. Might have to try one of each. Yeah, that sounds good.

Pulling the plastic back on the corner of each meal, you stack them on top of each other and cram them into the microwave.

You watch as they turn, internally giggling with a childish sort of excitement.

Shoving another two cans of coke into your hoodie pocket, you grab a tray as the microwave beeps and balance the three meals carefully.

As you turn to walk down the aisle, your peripherals catch the flight attendant looking at you concerningly. You turn your head as she inhales to speak but you rush to talk before she does, smiling disarmingly.

“Don’t worry, I’m bringing them back to- HOLY SHIT!”

Hand clasped over your heart, you nearly jump out of your skin as Price stands not even a full foot ahead of you. His arms are crossed, head tilted with a stern but amused smirk.

“Go on, Rabbit.”

His eyes dip down to the tray of meals beginning to tilt and slide towards your hoodie.

“Oh uh. I was just telling her how I was bringing two of these back for you and Gaz. Didn’t realize you were coming to help, sir.”

You give a big smile and shimmy your shoulders playfully, wiggling the tray as you extend it out towards him.

He gives another little stern look before his eyes pass you, giving his infamous crinkly eye smile to the flight attendant and taking the tray from your hands.

He reaches the aisle first, gesturing towards your seat with a “Sit” before plopping himself into the empty seat on the right of you.

He pulls down the table tops, using the tray as a sort of bridge between the two, lining the three meals beside each other.

He pulls back the rest of the plastic film on each, handing you a wooden utensil set before trying a forkful of the vegetarian pasta meal and pointing towards your hoodie pocket.

“Hand it over.”

He nods as you open and place one of the cokes on his side of the tray bridge, taking a bite of the beef option and humming appreciatively.

“Mm, you’ll like that one. Eat.”

It’s a classic Shepherd's Pie, a meal you’ve made a million times in Johnny’s kitchen. It’s a comfort meal on those slow days, something hearty to soothe the soul.

Johnny had mentioned giving Price your ‘special’ recipe (consisting of a little extra butter and a heaping spoonful of love) but that’d been years ago, probably two and a half by now.

I can’t believe he’d remember that.

Gaz remains asleep on the left, and you crack your coke open as your gesture towards him.

“Should we save the chicken and rice for him?”

Price pauses his chewing, gazing at Gaz for a moment before the chewing resumes and he shakes his head.

“He’ll be alright.”

You hold back a surprised snort, giving a huff of a laugh and digging in.

He’s right. That’s a damn good Shepherd’s Pie.

He takes Gaz’s snoring as a cue to try the chicken meal, nodding in satisfaction once more.

The two of you share the three microwave meals, going back and forth between the plastic bowls.

You’re almost finished eating when Price speaks.

“So… Was Kyle right?”

Raising an eyebrow in confusion, you turn to glance at Gaz before settling back on Price.

“I’m sorry?”

“Garrick.”

“No I-” You huff a laugh that holds impatience more than anything else, “I know who Kyle is, sir. Was he right about what?”

His eyes pass yours, landing somewhere over your shoulder, and you realize.

“Oh.” Setting the fork down, you sit back. “We’re okay. Just figuring a couple things out.”

He nods, giving a small hum and leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms and talking lowly.

“Simon’s a good man. You can trust me on that.”

You lock your eyes onto his for a solid moment.

“I do, sir.”

He nods, starting to look away before your voice rings out once more.

“So what’d I do that gave it away? Or did Johnny tell you?”

“Neither.” His eyes dart over to Ghost.

“Simon isn’t that touchy with anyone. Noticed it with you first. Wrote it off. Saw him with Johnny. Not hard to put two and two together.”

“Price I-”

“-I don’t need an explanation, love.” It barely registers in your head that this is his first time calling you anything besides Rabbit, “Believe me. Just tellin’ you to be careful. Not let it compromise a mission. For everyone’s sake.”

Right… he read my file. Laswell’s version. The uncensored one. Right right right. That’s great.

“Yes, sir.”

He’s not wrong.

You nod somewhat bitterly, look away in shame.

He lets a moment of silence pass before turning with a semi-apologetic smile.

“You still got a few of those desserts you nicked?”

Your smile returning, you pull out the small dessert cups from your various cargo pants pockets.

Setting one in front of him, you prop your elbow on the armrest between the two of you, leaning towards him and nudging his shoulder.

“So, tell me about Urzikstan.”

-

“Soldiers, as we start our descent into beautiful London this afternoon, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. On behalf of myself and the entire crew, I’d like to thank you for your service. We look forward to seeing you on board again as you continue to defend our great nation and its freedoms. May God bless and protect our troops.”

Chuckling lowly at his eye roll, you push a still-sleeping Kyle’s seat-back tray up as Price speaks lowly.

“Can’t tell you how many times he’s drooled on me. Left a damn snail trail on my shoulder coming back from Iraq.”

“Aw, give him a break. He’d earned it.”

“I’m lenient enough as is, I’ll tell you that much.” He chuckles with you, pushing his seat up and rebuckling.

You’d both gotten comfortable, the turbulence pretty tame considering the route.

Slipping your boots back on, you glance at your watch and feel your eyes widen.

Price and I have been talking the last- oh god- four and a half hours?

Makes sense, really. He’d been more than generous in his story sharing, supplying you with a healthily sized list of semi-embarrassing things he’d seen the guys do over the years- Kyle having to explain why he couldn’t wear his patrol cap after it slipped off and fell into the half-full piss ditch he was utilizing was your personal favorite.

Slipping past him, you settle into Price’s original seat between Kyle and the aisle, shaking the man awake gently.

“C’mon Sarge. Rise and shine.”

He mumbles something incoherent, shrugs your hand off as he leans towards Price. All the other man does is continue your efforts in waking him, so you consider your job done and move on to Simon.

Barely pressing your hand onto his chest, his eyes fly open, long lashes fluttering as he blinks away the sleep.

“It’s okay, Si. Just me.”

He rests his hand over yours, lifting to kiss it from behind the mask with a small smile.

You go to wake Johnny, but stop as you feel a light hand on your elbow. You fight the urge to slap it away, something deep in your gut recoiling, able through sheer will alone to brush off the feeling entirely.

Hadn’t anyone told these people not to go randomly touching soldiers?

“Ma’am, please return to your seat and buckle your seatbelt, we land very shortly.”

You flash her a smile, let the image of her civilian work attire push into the front of your head.

She didn’t mean to. No harm intended.

Doesn't change the way your stomach fell to the floor when she did it.

Simon nods as you turn back to him, wordless praise that you appreciate wholly.

“Go ahead, Tapeti. I’ll wake ‘im.”

You make your way to your seat, buckling into your seat beside a newly awakened Gaz.

You start your list, a mental chalkboard full of to-do’s, as usual.

You hadn’t been in the military for 9 years for nothing. If a job is to be done, it’ll be done right, and the front of your mind flashes to the team you’ll be returning to- training your subordinates, countless team building exercises, trading tactical advice with Gaz as promised.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the same man the second your brain glosses over him.

“You seem better.”

His tone is light and playful, but it doesn’t give you much indication of the meaning of his words.

“Yeah? What makes you say that?”

He gives a small shrug, a content smile on his face.

“I dunno. Just seem to be in better spirits.” He leans in, gives your shoulder a nudge with his. “Price tends to have that effect.”

You feel your cheeks warm before you could get a retort out, the small wink he gives while leaning back into his own seat only exacerbating the issue.

“Bold words, Sergeant.”

He doesn’t reply, only throws his head back with a hearty chuckle that leaves his eyes closed in delight at your sudden awkward jitteriness.

He’s cute, you’ll give him that, but that just won’t do. God forbid your cool, calm, collected persona be tarnished by Gaz and his teasing.

Smirk slipping into something more genuine, he taps your knee against his to grab your attention once more.

“You ready to be home?”

You let your eyes stay on him for a minute- his calm demeanor and warm smile, the way he’s so effortlessly comforting- before shifting your eyes to glance over at Price, then Simon, then Johnny.

There’s a lot to be done once you’re back, most of it leaving an ache in your back and a deep churning in your gut.

But looking at your little group, it doesn’t seem as daunting as it did a mere eight hours ago.

“Yeah.”

You look towards your boys once more, hands held tight together, barely visible to the untrained eye.

“Yeah, I am.”

-

<3

Taglist:

@voodoo-writer @wonderswritings @loving-milkskake-coffee @mothcelestial @hindi-si-ikay @poohkie90 @berrysealsblog @anniblindfischi @autrizzm @megansheila @aldis-nuts @gentlegiant @johnwickthethird @dante-mightdie @forever-hero-trash @330bpm-whiplash @addison-james @l0velyy-xmll @secretsthathauntus @angstismydrug @mo-i-ra @wh0rethoughtz @trulytiredboi @pengwen14 @craxy-person @mrmountainman @galacticgrump @kiritokunuwu @luvvnightingalee @cosychick @jollyjumpsfrog @sn0w72897 @urfavsunkissedleo @erothickthefemboy @perpetual-fandom-brainrot @bossva @missmidnight-writes @supernaturalstilinski @certainkittenpeach @alcinas-darling-side @jinxxangel13 @jewelbby @rhaenryawhore @murdersheghostwrote @leothescorpio @michilpyay @cassiecasluciluce @browtfyoudoing @savagemickey03 @xxqueensneverdie @lovelyeau @kimbeans90 @notcrazynotoldbutcatlady @nessaasstuff @sadg3 @thriving-n-jiving @ghost-with-a-teacup @bbyfimmie

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Icing Is The Spice Of Life

Lucien Vanserra x Elain Archeron

Word Count - 1.9k

Author's Note - pure sweet (haha) fluff of my Elucien babies.

Warnings - implied smut at the end, some fun little sexual tension throughout.

“Elain, sweetheart?” Lucien called from the hall as he made his way to the kitchen. “Did you order something to be delivered? There’s a delivery cart that's been sitting outside the back gate for the last hour.”

The answer was evident before her reply could even be uttered. Walking through the kitchen door, Lucien took in the chaos that was occurring. Crates were stacked along the wall. The table was overflowing with sacks of flour and sugar and various nuts. Elain stood in the middle of the room holding a crate of butter as she nodded to the delivery driver.

“Um, just set that over there I suppose,” she muttered. Her worried look grew deeper as she calculated the mess around her. 

“What is all this?,” Lucien breathed out as he spun in a circle in the middle of the now cramped kitchen. 

“Well…,” Elain began sheepishly. “I may have slightly over-committed on promising holiday cookies to our friends and family.”

Lucien quirked his brow as a sly smile spread across his face. “Over-committed might be an understatement.”

“I know,” Elain wailed pathetically. “Its just that -”

With a quick hand in the air, Lucien stopped her protest. “It’s fine, my sweet. Not to worry.” Turning again on the spot he stood, he gathered his surroundings once more. “We just need a plan.”

“We?” Elain squeaked as the crate of butter sagged against her legs. “You’re going to help me?”

“Of course I am,” he stated matter of factly. “They are my friends and family too aren’t they?”

Before she could utter another word he swept over and grabbed the crate from her hands, planting a tender kiss to her forehead as he did. “I’ll take this down to cold storage for now. Tell him to leave the rest just outside the door and I’ll handle it from there.”

A few minutes later, his steps echoed up the cellar stairs. Elain had donned her well worn apron and was struggling to drag a heavy sack of sugar from the kitchen door. 

“Leave it,” Lucien said as he slipped his hands over her hips. The soft command of his voice caused her to shiver as she stood. Slipping past her, he made his way over to the small wooden table below the kitchen window. He paused for just a moment as he rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbow. In one quick movement he bent at the waist and swung two large sacks of flour and sugar over his shoulders. Depositing them along the wall with the others, he spun to face his mate, hands already gathering his long hair back from his face. 

“A pen and paper if you will, my sweet.” Hair tied back and out of the way, he began to pat at his shirt front pocket. “And my -”

Elain’s hand popped from her apron pocket before he could finish his request, handing over the folded reading glasses. He left them everywhere; laid upon books, on top of his desk, on side tables, yet hardly ever where he needed them at the moment. It was just one of those things she did, gathering them up through her day and sticking them in her pocket. A quick dig through the kitchen drawer and she then also handed over a pen and notepad. 

“Ah, thank you.” Lucien settled himself into the chair at the now empty table, sliding his glasses over his nose. “I’ll need the recipes of all the cookies you planned on making,” he said as he peered over his glasses at her. 

Turning toward the counter, Elain grabbed her recipe box and thumbed out all the cards she had already set to the front and handed them over. 

“And what should I do now?,” she giggled. The sight of him peering over his glasses never failed to send her heart into a flutter.

“Have a seat. Relax for a bit,” he smiled at her. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day on your feet.”

One hour and two cups of tea later, a plan was formed. Lucien tossed his glasses onto the table as he handed Elain a surprisingly thorough checklist. She sighed out a laugh, slipping the glasses into her pocket as she surveyed the list. 

“These three all start with the same basic dough. So you start there while I tackle the inventory,” he said pointing to the top of the list. 

“Inventory, hmm? Very official,” she giggled as she pulled her face into mock seriousness. 

Lucien smiled a bright smile as he pulled her into his chest. “Someone’s gotta be the muscle around here.” He landed a peck of a kiss to her forehead before quickly lifting his mate in the air, arms gripping tightly under her perfect backside. 

“Lucien!,” she squealed with a kick of her feet.

He promptly turned and set her gently on the counter of the kitchen island, sliding his hands from their hold and up her sides before cradling her laughing face. 

“Get to work, muscles,” she teased with a nudge from her knee and a squeeze of his bicep. 

“Yes ma’am,” he drawled seductively as he leaned in for a burning kiss. As he pulled away, Elain couldn’t help but notice the flames rising in his eye. 

“We have a lot of work to do,” she smiled at him, almost regretting the amount of work she had landed in their laps.

Clearing his throat and pulling his hands from her face, Lucien jolted into a perfectly straight posture. “At your service,” he intoned deeply before giving a crisp salute followed by a sneaky wink. 

With another giggle, Elain dropped herself back down to the floor and moved over to the other counter to begin her dough, but not before peeking over her shoulder to catch the sight of his well fitted shirt rippling across his back as he lifted more of the sacks from the floor. 

Several hours later, the system was working like a well oiled machine. Several of the items on Lucien’s thorough checklist were ticked off and the mates were working in companionable silence.

Lucien swiped an arm across his forehead depositing even more flour to his already streaked face just as a tinkling bell rang. 

“Pardon me, sweetheart,” he said as he slid behind Elain, hands drifting to her hips as he did. Pulling open the oven door, he leaned down and pulled out the two trays of cookies. “This is the last batch of sugar cookies, what’s next on the list?”

Elain leaned over to where the list was taped to the cabinet door. “Next is icing the sugar cookies and starting the oatmeal walnuts.” She dusted her hands on her apron and then reached for a piping bag. “I have the icing all ready for you. I’ll start on the other batch of cookies.”

A ringing laugh rang through the kitchen. “You really trust my artistry that much, my sweet?” Lucien finished placing the last of the cookies on the cooling rack as he turned to take the now full piping bag.

“I’m sure they will be perfect,” she laughed.

Lucien set himself to work, pulling his face into exaggerated concentration. Lips twisted to one side and the tip of his tongue poking out, his mechanical eye squinting. “If you say so, sweetheart.” 

The time passed quickly, Lucien completing two dozen nearly perfect cookies before a yelp broke the silence. 

“Oh!,” Elain gasped loudly. “I forgot to soften the butter first!”

The tip of Lucien's icing bag slipped from his nearly perfect cookie and smeared along the table at her gasp. “Bring it here,” he commanded before popping the now ruined cookie in his mouth. 

Elain walked over with the sticks of butter and handed them over, but instead of taking them from her, Lucien just wrapped his large hands over her own. With a flicker in his eye and a smirk on his face, he smiled at his mate standing before him as he slowly heated the fire in his veins, concentrating its heat into his palms. 

“You’re not supposed to eat them, Lu,” Elain sighed as she watched him chew. He only winked his golden eye in response before making an exaggerated swallow. 

“Consider it a taste test,” he laughed as he lifted his hand from hers and kissed her knuckles. “There, softened perfectly. Just like you.”

A heat of its own crept over Elain’s cheeks as she leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Thank you,” she said as she returned to her work. Lucien once again picked up the piping bag to finish his decorating, but not before taking a moment to watch the sway of her hips as she stood at the counter humming softly to herself. 

As the light outside the kitchen window faded past the low light of dusk, Lucien twirled his wrist absentmindedly, lighting the faelights along the wall. His hand dropped back to his cup, swirling the last dregs of his tea before taking the final swallow, his other hand in his lap kneading along the arches of Elain’s feet. Her chair was pushed close to his, feet propped in his lap as she lounged back and sipped her from her own cup. 

“More tea?,” she questioned as she moved to sit up. 

“No, no. I’ve got it,” he waved his hand at her as he reached for the teapot between them. Pouring another cup of tea, he snagged a cookie from the stack beside him. The kitchen was full of the remains of their work. Tins lined the counters, filled to the brim with delicious delights. Cookie sheets and mixing bowls were stacked in the sink, flour dusting nearly every surface. 

“Lu!,” Elain admonished with a giggle. “At least eat the broken ones. I was going to fill extra tins just in case.” She reached to the counter behind her and brought the plate of discarded sweets to the table. Grabbing one half of a broken iced gingersnap she held it out to her mate. 

Instead of taking it from her, Lucien leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around the entire half with a gleam in his eye. 

“You nearly took my finger with it!,” she squealed as she snapped her arm back and pulled it to her chest. 

But he was just as quick. In a flash, his hand encircled her wrist and brought it back to his lips. He flashed a lopsided smile just before he stuck out his tongue and with a slow caress, he licked the icing that was left along the side of her finger. 

“And it would have been just as sweet,” he smirked, voice soft and low. 

Elain froze, eyeing his tongue as it swiped the last of the icing from his own lips. “It’s – It’s been a long day. I think we should call it a night,” she said hardly above a whisper.

“You read my mind, my sweet,” he responded in an equally low tone. 

Her feet dropped from his lap with a quickness and she reached to untie her apron. Slipping the garment from her neck, she tossed it over her chair. Lucien mimicked her movements and his apron soon joined hers, their footsteps soon thudding along the hallway floor.

“Lucien?,” Elain called from the foot of the stairs.

With a sliding skid, Lucien reappeared in the kitchen and snagged the half full piping bag laying on the kitchen island. “Coming!,” he called back before scurrying down the hall once more. 

[iamharryhale]

*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker in the station kitchen*

Bobby: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know.

Everyone:

Buck: I did, I broke it.

Bobby: No. No you didn’t. Hen?

Hen: Don't look at me. Look at Chimney.

Chim: What?! I didn't break it.

Hen: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken?

Chim: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken.

Hen: Suspicious.

Chim: No, it's not!

Ravi: If it matters, probably not, but Lucy was the last one to use it.

Lucy: Liar! I don't even drink that crap!

Ravi: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier?

Lucy: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Panikkar!

Buck: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Bobby.

Bobby: No! Who broke it?!

Everyone:

Lucy: Bobby… Eddie's been awfully quiet.

Eddie: rEALLY?!

Lucy: YES REALLY!

Eddie: AY POR DIOS!

*Everyone starts arguing*

Bobby [being interviewed]: I broke it. I burned my hand so I accidentally punched it.

Bobby: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick.

Bobby:

Interviewer:

The crew:

Bobby: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

[revetahwsstuff]

Johnny Cage

With a (bottom) Male S/O who is basically similar to Nicole Watterson but reversed. Pt.2

(Daycare!)

M/N watched as his 3 children kept chanting that weird name, now he wasn’t familiar with anyone with that kind of name unless they were talking about Kakashi Hatake which the name “Ninja mime” fits him.

To M/N, he looks like any old-rich- white-dude so why are his kids are so fond of him suddenly? “Woah there little children! Don’t make a scene out of me.” Johnny Cage said with a snarky grin making M/N stoic expression turn firm a little.

“Come on kids, let’s not disturb the gentlemen.” M/N voice had a bit of sweetness mix with irritation as he began to push the cart full of food but it seems like his children didn’t want to leave.

“Aww, but dad. Look this may sound surprising to you but could we at least hang in the store for a couple of hours?” C/N one said, “This is like the only one time we actually might be grateful towards you if you do.” C/N three said

“Couple of hours? No, we have to get home early, cook dinner, go to sleep and take you kids to school.” M/N rebuttal and his three children pouted before looking up at Johnny with adorable-dejected-looking-faces.

“Looks like we can’t know each other yet Ninja-Mime.” C/N two with sadness. Johnny looked down with a half-smile. Looking up at their father who was beginning to walk away. Johnny crouched at their height “How about I..go to your house?”

“You can do that?!” C/N one question with excitement and Johnny just gave them a playful wink.

“Children!!” M/N yelled, the 3 kids jumped at their fathers voice and scurried away from Johnny to their father who was already 6 feet away from them from the aisle.

———————————————————————

Around 5, at home. Biyu was out of the house again to work dead-paying job meaning the children own the house now to do whatever they want.

“He should be here any minute now.”

“You sure? Someone like him has way too much on his hands” C/N two replied to C/N one. The two youngsters head downstairs and stood in front of the door, C/N one was tapping their shoes on the wooden floor impatiently before the doorbell was heard. The children immediately yanked the door open and had nervous smiles on their faces with Johnny cage looking down at them with wide eyes when seeing their nervous expression.

“You kids okay? I know I’m a celebrity and all but- you guys don’t seem like-“

“Oh no! We do want you here! Come! Come in.” C/N two nudged their small hand out for Johnny to come inside. The two looked up with creepy smiles but they were just shy and nervous since a big star came inside their little home. Johnny entered their small house, it was homey but very clustered as their were toys on the floor, and colored pencils laying around with papers drawn. A fish tank sitting on a dresser and kitchen just a few steps away.

The children began to pick up and tidy the living room up a little for their special guest and they did it pretty fast, C/N puts a towel where they accidentally spilled orange juice on the cushion and led Johnny where to sit which he oblige. “So this is where you guys sleep, not particularly my taste but for a normal family such as you guys.” Johnny looked around before he heard something moving and he adverted his eyes to see the three kids of M/N just staring at them. “Do you want anything sir? We got water, Thai tea or orange juice?”C/N one question with a nervous smile

“No need for the hospitality kids, just call me Johnny.” He interjected, “ok! Johnny?! How was your day?! What did you ate?!” M/N children energy were high! Johnny could understand where M/N stoic personality came from (If M/N came back and spot Johnny with his children it would drop his energy already.)

“I haven’t really ate anything today, but I did snuck out during a meeting for a movie just to see you kids.” Johnny replied, “awh, we were that important even we just met..well I know you..but you don’t know me-“ C/N one continued before C/N two smack them on the head for their sibling to not reveal the stalkings they did on Johnny’ daily life.

“So kids..do you guys have any games to play?” Johnny cage asked as he leaned back in the small couch, his legs had to be out stretched on the floor since he was tall.

“We can play (Your favorite game) on the PS5!” C/N one suggests and C/N two opens a cabinet under the TV to reveal the many games they had before picking the game C/N said they could play. The kids brought out their controllers and tossed one to Johnny who caught it in ease. The three began to play the game on the TV, making loud noises in the process making the toddler in the house awake

“CAN YOU GUYS BE QUIET?!” C/N three shouts from the nursery room, the older kids and Johnny quickly shut their mouth but later snickered in response. The three continued to play the PS5 until the clock strikes at 7pm. The sounds of keys rattling against the door heard before opening-

“What are you kids doing?!”

[an-angel2u]

Oh so I saw that your request is open so I wanted to ask if you can do a miguel x fm!reader (Pj match)

Like reads is a obsessive with pj design and is obsessive matching with miguel. and Miguel really didn't care at first but grew to love the idea honestly, like some of the pj were comfortable and some were SO soft that Miguel bought some to work. (I think this would be a cute idea 😌🙏) fluff pls.

stitch o’hara. || m. o’hara

warnings: sorta sunshine!reader, “buggy” is a shopping cart, simp miguel /j, food mention, umm i think that’s it? not proofread

a/n: sorry this isn’t exactly what you asked for, i got carried away !!

it was only the start of november and target was rushing christmas essentials out. the moment you walked in, a sea of red, green and white items caught your eyes. “jesus… it’s only november.” miguel mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his thumb and middle finger.

“you gotta get into the christmas spirit, miguel!” you exclaimed, wearing a smile from ear to ear. you walked over to grab a cart and placed your purse inside. “it’s too early for that.” he added a sigh.

today wasn’t so great for miguel, he had so much to do back at HQ, involving catching anomalies and making sure no canons get disrupted. it was exhausting. nonetheless, the necessity for groceries lingered.

you started to walk over to the clothes and looked at the onesies that had drawn you in. “nah uh, cariño. groceries, not clothes.” he spoke, taking his hand and redirecting the buggy with ease.

“i just wanna see! i don’t wanna buy anything, just look!” you attempted to move the cart away from his grip, it was impossible. “miguel.” you looked up at him, giving him that motherly stare.

you saw his hand move away from the cart and allowed you to go back to the clothing. you had gravitated towards to the onesies. “this is too cute! miggy, look it’s got little snowflakes!” it had a black background with blue snowflakes, you picked it up.

you placed the onesie on top of your body, giving you a small preview of what it would look like on you. “it’s cute.” he shrugged, barely giving you any attention. “nah, doesn’t match with my hair.” you put it back.

you had went through trials of different onesie’s, you finally found the one. it was ‘angel’ from the ‘lilo and stitch’ movies. “i’m getting this!” you threw it in the buggy immediately. “i thought you weren’t gonna buy anyth—”

you cut miguel off with the most dramatic gasp ever, you abandoned him along with the cart and ran to the men’s section. somehow, you’d managed to see a ‘stitch’ onesie as well.

“it’s your size!” you hollered from the back of the store. “baby, don’t yell in the store.” he chuckled under his breath. he dragged himself along with the cart over to you.

he glanced at the onesie and then back at you. “absolutely not.” he spoke blankly before attempting to walk away. “no! please. i want you to match with me.” you pleaded, grabbing his wrist with both hands, trying your best to hold him back.

“no, you have so many.” he shook his head. “i’m getting it anyway.” you shrugged, grabbing the pjs and dropping it in the buggy. “you’re wasting your money.”

you ignored his protest while getting the groceries… and on the way home. after you had taken a shower, you threw on your onesie. you walked to the kitchen and saw miguel preparing shrimp fettuccine pasta.

he saw you in your outfit and completely melted, he didn’t show it, of course, but he was head over heels. “dinners almost ready… can you watch this for me?” he left the wooden spoon in the pan. you nodded, shuffling over to the stove and slowly stirring the pot.

you weren’t really paying attention, you were busy focusing on the pot. your hand was on your hip as if you were pregnant. you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, looking down you noticed the sleeves of your boyfriends hands were wrapped around you, were blue.

“you liar!” you giggled, turning around immediately. miguel had the hood pulled over his eyes so he really couldn’t see your face but he knew you were happy.

[ time jump to the morning ]

miguel had gotten up early to head to HQ, he brushed his teeth (aggressively) and sprayed a bit of that cologne you loved to smell on his pulse points.

he came back into the room, watching you sleep soundly for a couple of moments before walking over to you and leaned over you to kiss your face. he noticed your soft smile appear on your face as you dreamt.

he headed to work and walked through HQ, while wearing his stitch pjs. it was so comfortable, he’d forgotten all about wearing it. he wondered why all the spider-people were giggling while staring. it was unsettling for him.

“woah! miguel… dig the suit…” peter quipped, swinging past while holding mayday head close to his chest. “what are you talking about…” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“i think you’re in the wrong universe… might wanna head down to stitch headquarters.” lyla popped up, glitching around his head.

“shit.”

[bluegekk0]

Vyrm family house - Outdoors

Like I said in the past, I wanted to make separate posts for the Sims build of the Vyrm house, to show more pictures and talk a bit about some details that I wanted to point out.

I'm starting with the outdoors, the small area around the house.

The house is quite big, made primarily from timber logs and wooden planks, with a reddish roof. In drawing form it would have some of the design elements from the Dirtmouth houses from the game, this is as close as I could get to it in The Sims. It's located near the edge of Dirtmouth on a hill (so pretend there's mountains and woods in the background)

Near the entrance, there are many crates and barrels full of materials for building and crafting, as well as firewood bought from the lumbers and stored in preparation for colder months. Right by the entrance, you can find hunting racks where Hornet leaves what she caught to dry and be stored later and a leather tanning rack. To the right from the door, you can find a small well.

As you follow left to the entrance, you'll see a cart which delivers goods to and from Vyrm's shop. Speaking of the shop, this is where you'll likely spot the sign with the name of the shop. The entrance is right behind the corner, with windows through which you can peek inside. Right next to the shop is a small smithing area where Vyrm works with metals needed for some of his creations

To the right from the little smithing hut you'll find a small path leading behind the house, towards a small fireplace spot. This is where the family often spends evenings together, telling each other fireplace stories and enjoying some food under the stars.

On the opposite end of the house is where Holly's little garden is located. They spend a lot of time here, especially during warmer months of the year where they tend to many kinds of flowers, and even some vegetables. The bench is there for anyone who wants to relax, allowing them to enjoy the smell of the flowers and even observe the Forest Maskflies, a species of Maskfly that lives in the woods surrounding Dirtmouth, which often visit the little house built by Vyrm.

---

That's all for now, next I'm going to show some of the bottom floor of the house, including the living room and the kitchen. :)

Next post (Bottom floor)

[the-fiction-witch]

It's Dr Dawkins!

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Adorable

Requested: I love this story and your writing! Do you think you could write one about Y/n being blind or deaf?

I followed the lead of sound and feel, My cane in my gloved grip as I slowly moved it in a circle shape in front of me through the dust of Port Victory, the sound of the silver tip as it moved through the dirt, and the little force or pressure the wooden handle applied back, The heat of the day bore down on me as my face hid under the soft lace. I counted the steps I took and made sure to listen to that of horseshoes, and voices to ensure I was where I was supposed to be.

I heard the silver tip clink and I felt the pressure of the hit, to my left I pulled it back and did so again hearing the same and feeling the same, I moved it up slightly hearing the silver tip rub against the wood. And I smiled.

"Good Afternoon Miss Y/l/n!" I heard yelled into my left ear,

"Good, Afternoon, Mrs Artland." I answered, Mrs Artland always was one to... overcompensate.

"How. can. I. help. you. today!" She shouted slowly so close I could feel the heat of her breath on my face,

"Just the usual please," I asked as politely as I could, It's times like this I am thrilled I wear a vale so I may make any facial expressions I like without offending anyone. She did as always and helped me to pick out the items I needed even if at times I had to debate her, but slowly I added the various items to my basket.

"That all!?"

"Yes, Thank you Mrs Artland."

"You need a gentleman to walk you home Miss Y/l/n?"

"No thank you, I got here myself I can get home myself, I assure you I am quite capable."

"You sure miss?"

"I'm sure, thank you." I nodded,

I ensured my basket was on my arm and turned myself until the silver tip hit the same wooden cart stand but on my right now, so I stepped on and made sure to follow the route in my mind making sure my little points of reference were checked until the silver tip hit into the usual device and I heard a sweet bell to my right.

Home again.

I reached out my hand and my gloved hands met the smooth wooden door and I ran my hand over the cold brass feeling the debossed letters 'Y/l/n'

So I pushed open the door and headed inside, I almost didn't need my cane but I kept it as I slipped my hat and vale off and headed inside using my mental map to go to the kitchen and begin to unpack my basket.

But I soon heard steps rush down the stairs and into the room.

"Miss Y/l/n!" Marcy complained, "Miss Y/l/n please, you mustn't do that! It's not safe miss." she said as she took my basket for me doing it herself,

"I just fancied a walk to town and I know we-"

"I know Miss but please, we needed things you should have rang and I'd have gone. It isn't safe for you to go walking into town alone Miss."

"I got there and back just fine didn't I?"

"Yes, but bad things could so easily happen. Please just go and sit down miss."

I sighed but went and sat in my usual chair by the fire, even if I was hot from the day's walk in the sun I liked to sit in my chair by the fire listening to it crackle and hop, hearing the hisses and whines as things burnt, feeling the dancing heat upon my skin. I slipped off my gloves and sat my cane in its place leaning on the arm to simply enjoy the changing dancing shadows.

I heard her footsteps approach my chair, "Now? shall I make you a pot of tea miss?"

"I'm alright for the moment Marcy, I might make some later,"

"Miss, I'd much prefer to make it for you." She said as she went to the kitchen not giving me much of a choice soon enough returning with the tea tray that she sat on the table "Just call if you need me, Miss,"

"I will Marcy." I nodded, and I heard her head off into the house, I sighed a moment, Fantastic I'll have lukewarm over-steeped tea when I do want it later.

But I let time melt away for a while enjoying the fire running my fingers across my chair texture until I heard the door knock.

I sat up to go and get it but,

"No! please stay Miss." Marcy told me as she went to the door,

I sighed but stayed in my chair enjoying the fire a while more trying to listen but I heard nothing that could help me once the door opened, I then heard footsteps on my floor I heard Marcy's and another with her, tender heel first steps with a heavy leather sound on the wood, the shift of fabric and small sounds I couldn't place.

I didn't know who now stood in my living room as it wasn't like Marcy to not announce someone for me, and I hadn't been expecting anyone, but I'm sure if given a few guesses I could make assumptions as to who it was.

"Someone with you Marcy?"

"Yes miss," she said sheepishly,

"I see," I chuckled, "And It's a secret is it?"

"He asked me not to tell you miss."

"He did, did he? Well, that's a hint." I laughed,

I think I knew as really only one person would ask such a thing of Marcy,

"He uhh he says you have to guess miss."

"I see." I nodded so I sat up a little perching myself on the edge of the chair and I held out my hand.

Soon enough a hand took mine, his hands warm, his skin callus, dry as if just washed with soap and dried off moments before this, short dirty nails, slender fingers, thin wrists, I found the frayed edge of a shirt worn so much it was no longer soft cotton, I even found stitches my own repair work, I found the long and roomy sleeves with a strong arm below it, I found a sharp shoulder which forced a sound of out him a small chuckle, I found the soft tie around his neck and his collar above it, I felt his smooth skin on his neck even giving his adam's apple a joke which he struggled to silence his laughs too, Both my hands cradled his face feeling his warm smooth skin, tracing the lines across his face, how everything sat where I knew it should, the picture in my mind melting with what laid before my hands, my fingertips gracing his fluffy hair. I already knew my answer but I took the time to stroke his face to hold him in my hands and learn his every crack and crevis, I felt him smile the corners of his lips twitching, and his cheeks hardened as he smiled, I felt around his mouth was a little abrasive not as smooth as the rest of him, he had shaved in the last two days giving his skin that roughness from the blades work, then again if I knew anything about the man in front of me, he could have shaved two days ago or two months ago and the grow back would have still been about this. I'd never known a twenty-eight-year-old man to be so lacking in the facial hair department then again he made up for it.

"Can you guess who?" He whispered almost so quietly I could barely determine his voice but I knew long before his word, who sat in front of me.

"It's Dr Dawkins." I gleamed,

"Well done," He smiled, "You guessed right, you get a prize," he smirked flirtatiously moving to take my hand in his and then he moved to press a soft kiss to my forehead. "So how is my little flittermouse?" He asked as he moved away doing various things I'm sure,

"Fine, just fine." I smiled

"Good, Glad to hear it."

"How are you?"

"Aww, I'm fine flittermouse." He cooed, "Marcy's gone." He whispered,

"Ohh good, She made me tea."

"That was nice of her," he said sitting on the ottoman for my chair as usual, so he could sit in front of me and he could hold my hands,

"she made it twenty minutes ago."

"Oh... Seems worthless."

"It is," I pouted, "I swear she doesn't trust me to boil bloody water."

He chuckled, "Well it's just you and me now, You can boil all the water you want." he said, "So long as you are careful."

I sighed, "Jack! I'm a grown woman I can boil water without you or Marcy's supervision."

"I know you can, I know. But I'm allowed to still worry about you," he said trying to make the tea from the pot but I took it and did so myself slowly of course,

"I'm not a bloody cripple."

"I know you're not. you're the smartest woman I've ever met, that doens't mean I don't still worry over you." He said taking my hands in his, "Hey, you know how much I worry over my little flittermouse when I'm not here." He cooed stroking his nose on mine, "You are incredible, but that doesn't mean you can't ask for help every once in a while."

"I know Jack."

"That's my girl," He smiled, "Now, I got you a present."

"A present?"

"I did, something very special for you." He smiled as he left my hands,

"It's not my birthday or anything for a while yet Jack,"

"I know, can't I just get you presents?"

"I suppose, what is it?"

"I need to borrow this." He said stealing the cushion that had always sat on my chair behind me,

"Why?"

"Just. Patience." He warned, and a few moments later he sat back down, "Okay, here we are." he smiled gently taking my hand as he handed over the cushion now with a new case, I always had the cushion to support my chair with a silk cover on it as I liked the feeling of it, but now that cover was gone replaced by a cotton one, but this cotton had padding with thread forming crisscrossing lines all over the cushion,

"It's very soft," I smiled

"Turn it over," he said

So I did as he told me turning it over and feeling the same padded cotton but this was different, this side of the cover had small sewn-on hearts, each one made of a different fabric with thread surrounding it, each heart a fabric with a different texture, silk, satin, organza, cord, chiffon, lace. Sixteen in total in a grid design. I felt like crying, as this could not have been bought he must have taken the idea to the town tailor and had it made for me each heart a new texture, something I could run my hands over and feel the intricacy, the beauty, all the various textures and design elements. All without needing to see.

"You like it?"

"Ohh Jack... It's beautiful,"

"I wanted to get you something you know is beautiful not something I describe to you. I thought you'd like it."

"I love it so much! Thank you!"

"You're welcome my little flittermouse." He cooed giving my lips a tiny kiss, "Anything for my sweet fiance," He cooed "Now, shall I make you a new pot of tea?"

"Yes Please Jack,"

"Coming right up." 

[xxnghtclls]

Permission

Chapter 4

(Chapter 3; Chapter 5)

True Form Sukuna x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence

Please see Chapter 1 for tags!

The Sounds Of Sex

Tapping on the cold stone floor, you slowly you make your way through the halls of the shrine you call your home for the past month.

After visiting the kitchen you had to bare the presence of the mean bitch, who was ordered to prepare the food for Master Sukuna.

“Don’t trip and spill it.” she remarked in a mocking tone. You ignored her and watched her putting a covered plate on a cart.

Pushing the cart before you, you peek at the covered plate.

It’s heavy and smells raw. Bloody. You wonder if it’s human, female.

After all you saw, him feasting on a woman, him supposedly feeding an old man to crows, you concluded his favourite meat must be that of a woman. Pictures of your first encounter with him still linger on your mind like it was yesterday. You’ve become a grown woman since your eyes first met and the question if you or one of the other maidens working there will be his next meal did cross your mind not just once and yet you’re about to walk into his chambers.

Alone. Brave.

You can’t deny that you are nervous, in a negative but also in a positive way. He’s the reason you came here after all and after one long month you finally have the chance to meet him. Well. Kind of.

I will not look at him until he said so, I will not speak to him, until he said so. I will bow to him as the King he is, your mind recites countless times.

Your way leads past the sliding door that is your room. Uraume instructed you to walk past your door and turn right on the next corner. Doing exactly that, you see another sliding door. A fancy one. Pretty, expensive wood. Another thing you notice is, there isn’t another room except this one.

Have I been sleeping in the room right next to him the whole time?

Your face heats up a little at that thought.

Uraume instructed you to softly knock three times before entering. You race your knuckles, ready to knock.

There it is, the energy. You almost waited for it to crawl back to your throat. Blood is pumping, heart starts racing again. You breathe deeply and

Knock

Knock

Knock

You wait a moment to hear if he’s answering. Nothing. Going down on your knees, you grab the door and slowly push it open, keeping your head lowered at all times. His energy becoming more heavy in the moment the door opens. Sliding in with your knees, you stand up to pull the tray in.

You turn around, on your knees again, to slide the door back into its closed position. Heart is still pumping fast. You almost can hear the blood rush through your ears. After standing up again you go to the tray to push it further into his room.

It’s dark in here.

On the floor you can see the moonlight painting blue shapes on the ground. It smells like smoke, a pipe. Slowly walking in, your body decides to move for you. You peek and there he is.

He’s standing at an opened sliding door that leads to the garden you worked a whole month in. You didn’t notice that there was another door. He was there all along and you didn’t notice. You let your eyes wander from his feet up to his hair. Bare feet on the wooden floor. Tattooed ankles, you remember them. Eyes wander up further. He wears a white kimono, with dark blue edges. His back is facing you, broad shoulders painting a dark shadow on the floor. His left hand holding a kiseru, his remaining hands, as far as you could see, rest cross armed inside of his kimono. Pink hair being illuminated in a blue tint as the moonlight falls upon it.

He’s so tall.

Your eyes jump back to your hands pushing the cart and slow down. Uraume told you to just push the cart five steps into his room and leave. You notice this incredible silence in the room, only hearing some crickets from the garden and the soft dabble from the pond. It’s peaceful. You didn’t feel this much piece in a long time. Well, actually never. His energy, as much intimidating as it is, it also wraps itself onto you like a warm blanket. It’s confusing. You wouldn’t expect that from a creature that you witnessed murder from. Taking another breath you turn around silently to go back to the door you came into.

“You’re new.” A voice.

His voice. Calm.

Your heart jumps a beat. Your feet stop moving. A warm feeling inside you.

He didn’t even see me. How can he know?

The sound of his mouth taking a puff from the pipe reaches your ears.

I will not look at him until he said so, I will not speak to him, until he said so.

You decide to move on quietly until you reach the door, kneeling again to push it open, eyes fixated on your hands as you crawl through the opened space to push it shut again.

Standing up, you start to run in tiny steps until you reach the door to your room and enter it. Breathing heavily you lean against the door you just closed shut. You try to comprehend what just happened. His voice was so calm and deep. It didn’t sound at all like the laugh you’ve heard so many times. It was just so peaceful and yet people always said he was the devil himself.

How can his voice be such a soothing sound?

Bringing him his dinner was your last task for today so you slowly make your way to your bed and lay down. His voice still replaying in your head countless times. Just like the pictures in your head from a woman being eaten would not leave your eyes, his voice would not leave your ears. The only thing bothering you is, that it just doesn’t add up. You softly tug at the sheets of your bed, completely lost in thought. Lost in thought about him.

I need to hear him again.

With this as the last thought on your mind, you consciousness wanders into the realms of shadows and dreams.

You’re new.

His voice being replayed by your mind wakes you up in the morning. You stay in your bed a few minutes more than you normally would, thinking of what happened last night.

Hopefully Uraume will order me to bring him his dinner tonight too.

Getting up, you notice you didn’t change your clothes last night, you slept in your kimono. Completely lost in thought about him. Giving yourself an eye-roll, you walk out of your room. Eyes shooting to your left. On the opposite corner of your room, that’s where he stays. You grow excited and rush into the hallway you clean day after day since you came here.

Uraume did not ask you to bring him his dinner this day. You spent another two days of just cleaning and gardening. Gardening was much more of an exciting task now that you knew he could be there, watching you maybe. You caught yourself peeking into the direction of where his door must be a lot of times. It wasn’t really visible but it must be there.

The days went on without much happening. The other maidens going on with their tasks like usual. Once you heard the mean bitch mocking another girl in the hallway. She made you angry. She remembered you of the people you had to endure while you were living in the village you grew up in. What she said to you on your first day implied that she already met Master Sukuna. You asked yourself what he could’ve said to her, when they first met. Was it as peaceful as your last encounter with him? Did they talk at all?

Three days passed. You mindlessly cut some dead ends off a plant in the garden, still sometimes thinking of him, as Uraume approaches you.

“Master Sukuna was pleased with your service three days ago. You will bring him his dinner tonight as well.” they said in their usual monotone voice.

Hearing their words let excitement grow in your stomach once again, catching yourself to peek at his door again.

“If you do well tonight, you will be allowed to bring him his dinner more frequently.” they added and left.

You noticed once again, that Uraume isn’t much of the talking type, very strict and motivated to keep everything in order.

It was around noon so you had to go on with your tasks until the night approached. Apparently that’s the time he usually eats. After cleaning the hallway, you made sure to eat a few fruits and vegetables before you were on your way to the kitchen to get the tray with his food. No mean bitch this time.

Thank god.

It was another young woman, she was nice to you, even giving you a piece of fresh onigiri she just made. It was filled with salmon. You devoured it hastily, not wanting to be too late and soon you were on your way to his chambers once again.

Walking along the halls, your heart started to get nervous again. I wonder if he’s gonna say something this time.

Passing the corner that leads into the hallway your room was located in, you catch yourself smiling.

What if he isn’t so bad?, you think to yourself, your mind rejecting every bad thing you witnessed so far.

Passing the door that leads to your room you listen to the sound of the soft squeaking of the cart rolling onto the stone floor, waiting for his energy to embrace you again. Then you notice another sound. It’s getting louder the more you reach the corner you have to pass to get to his chambers. It sounds like heavy breathing. Almost like someone is in pain. Approaching his door, your feet slow down. Down on your knees, curious ears reach his door.

Moans. Grunts. Skin clapping.

Fucking.

You heart jumps, your blood rushes to your face. Ears as red as a rose. You have to suppress a squeal, your hand rushing to cover your mouth.

A slap followed by a loud moan stings into your ear.

It sounds erotic, but aggressive. His energy creeping from under the door right into your lap. You feel your heartbeat start to throb between your legs. It’s not like you never touched yourself, you just have never experienced this kind of intimacy with someone. Your imagination starts to grow, remembering that you often heard people in your village having sex, fucking, sometimes in corners of the streets.

A low groan.

That’s him. His voice.

Wetness forms between your legs, making you press your thighs together.

The sound of slapping skin increases. Faster. Her moans become louder. His groans deeper.

How am I supposed to walk in there? Should I walk in there at all?

“Fucking slut, louder!” he growls, followed by a loud squeal from her.

Your face starts to burn.

Did he just call her that?

Your kimono sits tight. Thankfully. If not your hand would’ve decided to touch your cunt here and then. In the hallway. Sitting in front of the door of his chambers.

Your clit is throbbing. Hearing sex, hearing him fucking. It turns you on. So much. But what about your task? You decide to wait a bit.

Maybe they will stop soon.

After waiting for another 30 minutes you figured they wouldn’t.

With wetness between your thighs, you brace yourself. Rising your knuckles once again to knock. Heart racing, pussy throbbing. The nervousness is way worse than last time.

Knock Knock Knock

Your hand is shaking. The sounds continue. They either ignored you or didn’t hear it, which wouldn’t be a surprise. Carefully and as silent as possible you slide the door open, the smell of sex and sweat reaching your nose. Sounds turning louder as soon as you open the door. It doesn’t help your composure, your arousal increases.

Carefully sliding in, you stand up to pull the cart in. Kneeling down again to shut the door, your mind focuses on the sounds again. Raw sounds of lust behind your back. You feel as if you could fry an egg on your face. You slide the door shut silently, eyes fixated on your shaking hands. You stand up and it feels like your juices are already smeared on your thigh. Suddenly you feel eyes piercing into you. So intense. Like a weight on your back. This time however, you don’t dare to take a peek.

A hard thrust, a loud squeal.

You even close your eyes.

I will not look at him until he said so.

Five steps. The squeaking of the cart seems to be unbearably loud. The sounds of sex however, even louder.

One.

Two.

“M-Master.. ugh” she moans desperately.

Three.

Four.

A deep growl.

Five.

“Cum!” he commands.

Hearing it, you feel like it goes right into your already dripping cunt. She cums. Hard. Screaming. You feel like you almost do, too.

The five steps back to the door felt like walking a mile. You rush to your knees, slide out and shut the door behind you. Happy to have this situation survived until now, you run back to your room.

In the desperate need to take care of the feeling between your legs you hurry out of your kimono and let your naked self fall onto your futon. Feeling your ridiculous wet core, while remembering his voice and grunts and commands, your fingers don’t take long to make you cum.

Hard.

[toast-tales]

Cursed Cravings, Chapter 8: Judging by the Cover

In which Danny gets a look at Christopher's library. Contains: 1.6k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

“I’ve saved the best for last.” 

After almost an entire day of being dragged around the mansion, with a merciful break to eat another well-prepared meal from Sam, the cart rolled to a stop in front of a set of grand double doors. 

Danny gave the doors a skeptical raise of her eyebrow. They were big, sure, but they didn’t look much different than the rest of the mansion, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand to listen to stories about how these rich people had gotten their fancy things from other rich people in what seemed to be a never-ending cycle of showing off to each other about it, even if Sam had made some of the stories a little more entertaining. 

“This is the library. It’s HUGE, and I don’t just mean that because all the books are twice your size. There’s hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. Penn family, big book people.” 

Danny’s eyes widened. Books? Those were something of a rarity to her—she was certain there was someone who sold books in town, but she had always been too busy working with the animals, or in the garden, or in the kitchen to bother with a hobby like that. 

“Uh…yeah, I haven’t exactly…gotten the chance to, uh, read a lot of books.” 

She could almost feel the cart vibrate with excitement. “Then you are gonna get the socks knocked off of you when you see this. Anything you wanna read about, I guarantee he’s got it.” 

“Sam, wait-” 

Danny’s protests were cut short as the doors to the library opened and the cart zipped inside. 

It was just as Sam had said—the place was enormous, with rows and rows of books as tall as trees lined up from the floor to the ceiling. Her head craned backwards as she followed the sight up and up, any remark she’d previously had ready long since swallowed by her amazement. “W…woah. Where the hell do you even start?” 

The cart eagerly rolled on forward. “Well, you could certainly start with the factual stuff, y’know, history, encyclopedias, stuff like that. That’s all this section here,” they said, not bothering to slow down as they passed the section in question. “But that’s boring. My favorite’s over here.” 

They whizzed past a few more rows of books, and then Sam rolled to a stop, proudly gesturing towards the shelf they stopped in front of with a dainty flourish of the cart’s metal handle. “See? Fiction!” 

Danny laughed. “...fiction?” 

“Yeah, like…made-up stories. It’s got everything. Here.” A sturdy book was plucked off the shelf and floated through the air next to the cart, motioning for Danny to step onto it. Not looking at the ground below it, she cautiously stepped over the edge of the cart and placed her weight on the book’s cover, which had an elaborate, gilded design adorning it. It slowly lowered itself to the ground with Danny on it, allowing her to step off and onto the tile floor. 

Another book flew off the shelf and landed next to her—the pages flipped quickly before landing on one of the inside illustrations, which seemed to depict some sort of wooden puppet at sea, sailing away from an enormous, monstrous whale. She barely had time to process it before another book set itself down on her other side, this one bearing a cover of a handsome knight fighting a fire-breathing dragon. More and more books began to pile up in rapid succession, until Danny had become trapped within an ever-increasing mountain of literature. 

“Hey! Sam! Slow down, wait.” She took a deep breath, and then muttered, quietly, “listen, I…I can’t read.” 

The erratic book-flinging halted to a stop, one book in midair sheepishly putting itself back into place on the shelf. “Oh.” 

“Did you just say you can’t read?” 

The giant footsteps had escaped her notice until they were too close to evade. She scowled. “Sam!” she whispered harshly, suddenly getting the feeling that the spirit had abandoned her. That little punk. Did they do this on purpose?

She glared upwards and saw Christopher looking down at her from over the stack of books that surrounded her. “None of your fucking business, bastard. For the record, I’ve had to work twice as hard as you’ll ever work just to keep me and Nathan fed. Reading wasn’t exactly high on the priority list.” 

Christopher tilted his head, regarding her with what appeared to be a genuinely curious expression. “I’ve never met someone who didn’t know how to read before.” 

A book smacked him in the back of the head.

“Ow!” He rubbed his head and looked around futilely for Sam, before sighing with a single, drawn-out breath. He glanced down toward the books near Danny again and picked one off the top of the pile, turning it back and forth as he considered the cover.

From what little she could see, it appeared to be quite pretty, with delicate gold details on the front and a tower of some kind, with the illustration of a long braid of golden hair running along its spine. 

“This is a good one,” Christopher mused. “I could…” 

He looked away for a moment, tossing something in his head with a conflicted expression before he looked back to Danny. “...read it to you, if you’d like?” 

Danny raised a single eyebrow. She had a snarky retort all lined up, but she found herself pausing as she looked at the book in the giant’s hands. She’d never had the opportunity to read before, but she did like stories. Nathan used to tell her some that he’d heard from his family. Her heart ached at the memory, and she took a deep breath of her own as she crossed her arms. “What’s it about,” she mumbled, refusing to look at Christopher.

“It’s called Rapunzel.” He idly flipped through the pages. “It’s about a princess with long, golden hair trapped in a tower by a witch, and rescued by her true love. It’s a classic.” 

“Sounds boring,” she grumbled.

“There’s some rather graphic violence too, if that makes it more intriguing for you.” 

She rolled her eyes, trying to look away from the giant and failing as she looked back toward the book. 

Christopher bent down, rolling his eyes back at her as he extended a hand towards her, like he expected her to climb onto it. “You ought to give it a chance. Come on, I’ll just read the first chapter and you can see if you’re interested after that.” 

Danny glared at him. Glared at his hand. And then glared at him again. She was more interested in hearing the story than she was letting on, but to have it be read to her by him? 

She felt a slight chill as a tiny breeze ruffled her clothes. It felt like Sam was trying to coax her into this too. I feel like I’m being played somehow.

She took a bold, paradoxically defiant step onto Christopher’s palm. “Fine. ONE chapter. And then you have to leave me alone for the rest of the day.” 

The giant laughed softly as he carried her to a nearby table. “Whatever you’d like, Danny.” 

* * * * * * * * * * 

A Little More Than One Chapter Later

Once Christopher reached the end of the story, he realized that Danny, who had taken a seat on the table between him and the book, had begun to make soft snoring noises as her head bent slightly forward. 

And she was the one who insisted we keep going. She didn’t even hear how it ended. He chuckled, poking her lightly in the side. “Hey. Doll. You’re drooling on the pages.” 

“Hwah-huh…?” She made a tired noise as she stirred awake, blinking a few times as she looked slowly between the book and him. Her eyes suddenly widened as she startled herself awake, a look between embarrassment and indignation clear across her face. “I WAS NOT. I’m awake!” 

“Oh? So you heard what happened to the blind prince?”

Her face went blank. “...since when was he blind?” 

“You were asleep for longer than I thought, doll.” He grinned. He could see past her prideful posturing to know that she had enjoyed the story, even if she hadn’t been able to remain conscious for the whole thing. It is a little late.

She huffed. “Well, maybe you could reread some of the end, so I can…” she yawned, “figure out how it ended—” 

“Oh, no.” He closed the book shut and picked her up, placing her on his palm—she only feebly swiped at him in protest this time. “I think that’s enough for tonight. It’s almost midnight.” 

“It’s almost WHAT?!” Danny looked to the windows, which showed that the outside world had long since succumbed to the pitch black of night. “Jesus Christ,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to your room.” 

He’d already made it down the hall, walking as slowly and carefully as he could while he cradled Danny in his palms, trying not to jostle her. To his surprise, about halfway there she began to curl up and close her eyes, giving up entirely on sending any sort of malevolence his way, at least for now.

…what?

No one had ever been comfortable enough to sleep in his hands like this before, not even the ones who thought they could trust him. Seeing her like this, at ease and relaxed, was such a strange contrast from how she normally acted around him, with her guard up and a steely look of irritation in her eyes. 

His heart fluttered a little as he observed her, but he swallowed down the feeling of hope that surged in his chest. As lovely and enticing as the feeling was, he knew it was a rose with thorns beneath it. He knew what happened when he got too attached to the humans he was supposed to eat. 

They all screamed, in the end. 

* * * * * * * * * * Next chapter ->

Is it time for more Danny and Christopher bonding? I think it's time for more Danny and Christopher bonding. Or, well, whatever you want to call it. Either way, tune in next week for chapter 9: A Taste So Bittersweet!

Thank you for reading! We're getting really close to one of my favorite chapters so far. Things are going to start picking up soon! I promise!

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Encanto Ride the Cyclone AU.

For @glowing-celesticpetals, based on the prompt: “maybe something about Antonio or Bruno in the Ride the Cyclone Au?”

This is the last you’ll see of the living side; the family grieving the loss of the four children.

Comments are always appreciated.

Warning, sensitive topics ahead: character death.

~~~~~~

Just Another Tragic Fact

Bruno sighed to himself.

The four gravestones, all lined up, layered in a variety of plants - Isabela would have hated it if it was all just flowers.

Here lies

Luisa Amalia Rojas Madrigal

14th November 1930 - 14th September 1951

Beloved daughter and sister.

Here lies

Camilo Valentino Estrada Madrigal

28th December 1934 - 14th September 1951

Beloved son and brother.

Here lies

Isabela Cristina Rojas Madrigal

7th August 1928 - 14th September 1951

Beloved daughter and sister.

Here lies

Dolores Victoria Estrada Madrigal

31st August 1928 - 14th September 1951

Beloved daughter, sister and partner.

Seeing it makes it real.

Not that it didn’t feel real watching the crash and seeing their dead bodies be pulled from the wreckage.

The funeral had came and went.

The loss of the children, who had been dubbed ‘Encanto’s Four Saints’, had impacted the town itself. Everyone was draped in mourning garb and music and laughter almost vanished from the streets.

But, of course, it brought the most impact to the Madrigals themselves.

“I’m sorry,” Bruno says to them.

It’s a relatively bright and dry afternoon - considering Encanto has been living in a constant storm since the Cyclone accident.

Pepa must be asleep. She’s done a lot more of that recently.

He doesn’t blame her.

“I should have seen… I should have been able to warn you. Then maybe you’d still be…” he sighs, breaking into tears again.

“Tío Bruno?”

He sniffles. “Hey, Toñito.”

“What are you doing?”

“I thought I’d just come to see them. It’s a nice day.”

“You don’t have to say ‘sorry’. You couldn’t have known what would happen at the fair.”

“No, you all couldn't have known. This is my gift. This is what I’m for. But… I didn’t even think to look and now it’s my fault they’re gone.”

“Still. You can’t blame yourself.”

Tight arms fasten around him.

Bruno accepts the hug.

It probably should be the other way around, it’s not him who has lost his siblings and cousins.

~~~~~~

Antonio doesn’t quite process that they are gone.

He knows they are dead, but… their family has a miracle, why wouldn’t it bring them back?

When a bunch of baby capybaras are born the following week, he names them after his siblings and cousins.

The quietest capybara he names Lola. She was the oldest of the four. She’s always hiding behind his legs. She insists she be carried up and down the stairs. He finds a pinkish red ribbon in Mirabel’s room that he asks his Mama to tie in a bow for Lola.

Next came Luis. He was the biggest of the litter, so Antonio didn’t need to mark him to tell him apart. Luis was more like a playful puppy than anything else, frequently managing to sneak out of Antonio’s room to wander around Casita in search of belly rubs.

Then there was Belita, or Bela, depending on whether or not Antonio was telling her off. Like her mother, Chispi, she was very confident and snarky. However, lacked her mother’s chill. She was full of energy - if Antonio didn’t put her to bed with her siblings, he would be sure she never slept.

And lastly there was Milo, possibly Antonio’s favourite but don’t tell the others. Getting his brother’s name, he was exactly like him. Mischievous, loves food, and maybe a little too dramatic. Milo was good at making him laugh and, after everything, that is what he needed.

He assembles them all before bed, so that when Mama or Papa or both of them come to read his story, they are there too.

Abuela would happily spend time babysitting the four of them while Antonio was at school.

If they came into the kitchen, Tía Julieta would offer them scraps or spare food they could eat.

Tío Agustín had built a little wooden cart that Antonio could pull them around in.

Tío Bruno pretty much adopted them alongside his many rats, as the best pets/children ever.

It was another week later that Antonio got an idea.

“What are you doing, mijo?” His mother asked one day. It was just before dinner - table already set up, but nobody had called them to eat.

Then she noticed the extra chairs and plates that had been added to the table. And Antonio having placed each capybara on their namesake’s chair, which was stacked with pillows, so their heads just about reached the table.

“I thought they could join us for dinner!” He offered. “And Chispi is here too to watch them. I got her a spare chair all by myself.”

Pepa didn’t know what to say. “Is your Abuela okay with this?”

“Why wouldn’t she be? She loves them. I saw her cuddling Milo and Lola when I came home today. I think she likes them more than Tío Bruno’s rats.” He informed, happily.

“Well, but, you know what Tía Julieta is like with animals at the table,” Pepa tried again.

“I don’t think she’ll mind. It’s like having the family back together!”

Thunder rumbled.

“I was meant to ask Bruno something,” she excused herself, brushing through her braid as she walked off.

Antonio stood in silence.

He glances at Chispi, “Did I do something wrong?”

~~~~~~

It’s a silent night.

They are slowly coming out of mourning and adjusting back to normality.

Starting to work again.

The colours of black and dark blue and dark grey begin to fade away.

The eternal storm that Encanto has been wrapped in since September is slowly breaking away. Now it is just occasional spells of heavy rain and sleet.

Antonio has long since been put to bed, with the four capybaras.

The rest of the adults stay up.

What once would have been a night of some wine, a few cards games, music and laughter, is now just a solemn conversation in the candlelight.

They ‘um’ and ‘ah’ over what could have been.

Where and what the children are doing, now that they are no longer among the living.

“And the other one?” Agustín dares to ask. “Did anyone ever come for her?”

“Was she at least identified?” Félix inquires.

“No.” Alma answers. “The order was given for her to be buried today.”

Pepa tugs at her hair, shivering. “I can’t imagine it. A child. Just like the rest of them. Except in an unmarked grave, and not a soul to care.”

“Her poor family,” Bruno remarks. “My sympathy is with them.”

“No.” Julieta shook her head. “To let their child go… and they don’t even care. They either didn’t care to look in the first place or they couldn't recognise their own bloody child. It’s horrible. They don’t deserve any sympathy.”

“Julieta!” Her mother and brother both exclaim, in shock at her attitude.

All the family is, but Agustín and Félix are stunned into silence (not that they find a fault in her statement, it’s just unexpected for her), and Pepa is already nodding her head in agreement.

“I agree.” She said, turning to Julieta. “If it was one of our babies, I would have known instantly. Heartless people.”

[theradicalscrivener]

The Adventures of Leit: Sissel

A sequel to Yahahaa~!

Now nearly completely immobilized by the "gift" of a playful nature spirit, Leit sets out to broker a new deal with the deity. The first rule of dealing with trickster gods is to remember that they are by definition... tricksters.

(P.S. Ya boi's got Linktree and Bluesky now)

[Previous Chapter]

                Leit gripped the reins of the oxen he had rented and struggled against his own exhaustion. He had ridden through the night to get to his destination, and despite his fatigue, he dared not stop. It wasn’t just that he was in a hurry to find the nature spirit that had “blessed” him before. He was worried that any action he attempted other than driving would be rewarded by the nature sprites that harried him at every turn. The sprites were nothing if not overzealous in their gift-giving. Even just tying his shoes had warranted fanfare and a reward, and each “reward” added more mass to his already impossibly huge package.

                When Leit had reached the inn the night before, he had thought he would have a little time to rest and recover, but he quickly realized that was not to be. Even just the act of entering the tavern had summoned the spirits. He suddenly found himself immobilized on a massive set of cock and balls that dwarfed his whole body! It had taken twenty other patrons to get him out of the tavern.

                Someone had had the bright idea to use a bunch of old, hardened baguettes to set up a roller belt to slide him across the tavern towards the back entrance. The extra wide doors were primarily used for unloading barrels and bags of flour and rice for the kitchen. However, the loading dock was only barely wide enough to get Leit’s massive nuts through them. Each of his massive stones was far larger than the whiskey and ale barrels that normally passed through. His nuts were so massive that they rivaled the size of wild boars, and his cock was easily as long as the bar counter but far wider!

                As soon as the crew got him through the doorway, the tell-tale sound of popping and cheering preceded the arrival of yet another nature spirit. “Yahahaa~!” it had cheered as Leit’s cock and balls grew even larger. Let watched in horror as his cock and balls grew and grew, but even as he fixated on his own package, his gaze drifted towards the pronounced bulges in the pants of the other tavern goers. They had shared in his rewards as well. With each successful “challenge” they too saw pronounced growth below the belt.

                The crew had managed to shove him off the loading platform and onto a cart. Another poof. Another cheer. Another surge of growth.

                The wooden cart creaked beneath him. The spokes cracked. The axels splintered. The cart shattered under the sheer weight of Leit’s swelling package.

                The crew redoubled their efforts. Using the now wheel-less wreckage of the cart, they managed to pull Leit and his package through the mud like a dog sled through the snow until he reached the docks.

                Another poof. Another cheer. Another round of growth for everyone involved. Now, even Leit’s saviors were looking indecent. Many were clad in loose, ragged, peasant attire which barely contained their swollen cock and balls. The sheer weight of their packages on the crotch of their loose pants caused the waistbands to dip well past their hip and halfway down their thighs. Their cocks were so thick that they rivaled their throats for sheer girth, and their balls were the size of pumpkins! Yet they persisted.

                Leit ponied up the funds to rent one of the larger merchant carts – one that would hopefully hold his weight and then some. He needed to be sure that he didn’t outgrow this cart somewhere in the countryside far from the aid of others.

                The team got him loaded onto the cart using a nearby crane. Another poof. Another cheer. Another surge.

                The tavernkeeper’s clothes had been nicer than many of the other people who had stepped up to help. His tight slacks had long since torn away. Now his cock was so huge that the head of it scraped the dirt even after draping over his massive, beer barrel sized nuts.

                The team gathered enough oxen to pull the cart, handed Leit the reins, and sent him on his way. Another poof. Another cheer. Another surge. As Leit was pulling away from the town, he glanced over his shoulder at his saviors. Every last one of them had long since outgrown their pants. Nuts scraped the dirt. Cocks draped over their nuts and splayed out for a foot or two in front of them. Even the smallest of the bunch had a cock that rivaled their waist for sheer size. Leit just hoped that once he got out of range, they would be spared further “rewards”.

                He had ridden for hours since then. The sun had long since set and risen once more. Evert turn in the path, every fork in the road, he worried that his choices would warrant a prize. He dared not stop. He dared not sleep. All he could do was focus on traveling farther in hopes of reaching his goal before he outgrew his vehicle.

                His oxen were exhausted as he turned down the dirt path through the forest. The cart, even reinforced to handle oversized load, groaned perilously beneath his weight. His nuts were so huge that either massive boulder was the size of a covered wagon. His soft cock snaked in front of him like a sea serpent. It was thicker than the mightiest oak and as tall as a pine tree. Some part of his mind noted the size of his cock compared to that of the tree trunks that filled the old growth forest that he wandered through, but he quickly shoved the thought from his mind. The last thing he wanted was to let the spirits think he actually enjoyed his new size… even if on some level, he secretly did.

                Orgasms felt amazing. With each surge in size, his climaxes had become more amazing, more intense, more blissful, more intoxicating! He could feel himself getting addicted to the sensation, and some part of him craved the next release. The dark thoughts gnawing at the back of his mind worked their way into his cock, causing the thick trunk of his cock to stir to life. Soon, his rod jutted out in front of him further than even his ox team.

                As he made his way deeper and deeper into the forest, Leit fought a losing battle against himself. He was getting hornier by the moment! At first, he tried to chalk it up to how sensitive his massive cock and balls were. The steady rumbling of the cart was like a deep-tissue massage for him caravan-sized sack, but as he made his way deeper into the forest, his mind was flooded with thoughts of growing and cumming and cumming and growing. Sure, he was a horny guy, but the sane part of his brain resisted with all its might. He was horny, but he was not this horny! Something else must be affecting him, and Leit had a pretty good idea what – or who – that something might be.

                “I know you’re there, Sissel,” Leit called out.

                “Perceptive, are we?” Came a voice from the forest. “Perhaps, I should reward you?”

                A chuckle reverberated through the trees. Leit could once again feel the pressure growing in his already supersized sack and schlong. His cart was already straining under the wait of his massive package, and he could tell he had another growth spurt coming.

                “T-this is what I wanted to talk to you about,” Leit struggled to speak. With every syllable he uttered he had to fight back the urge to moan. The growth felt so fantastic. Part of him craved more. Part of him wanted to get bigger and bigger, but he had to keep that part of him in check. If he succumbed, he’d soon be trapped on a package far too massive for even his cart to handle. He’d be stranded in the middle of nowhere on a set of cock and balls that would dwarf a yeti.

                “And what was it you wanted to say?” The voice replied. The voice seemed to be coming from every direction at once. It was as if the speaker had him surrounded on all sides. It was as if the words themselves came from every tree in the forest.

                “These gifts… I appreciate the gesture, but I can’t move at this size!” Leit protested.

                “You seem to get around just fine to me?” Sissel replied playfully.

                “You know what I mean! I can’t continue my adventure like this! I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but is there any way we can discuss a different reward for my services?” Leit asked.

                “Hmm… A different reward? I may have something in mind… I actually was going to suggest it sooner or later, but you took the initiative and sought me out.” Sissel replied cryptically.

                Leit wasn’t about to take Sissel’s offer at face value, especially when the tricky nature spirit hadn’t even said what it was yet, but anything was better than being trapped atop his own immense schlong… right?

                “I’m listening…” Leit replied skeptically.

                “Well. You’re carrying around so much of my little blessing, wouldn’t you say?” Sissel teased.

                Leit’s eye twitched slightly, but he didn’t reply. He merely waited to hear what Sissel had in mind.

                “Don’t be so dour. Think about it as a sort of… Oh, I don’t know. A fundraiser? You collect points, and you can turn those in to me for some fun prizes!” Sissel said. There was a strange sort of manic glee to his voice that made Leit more than a little uncomfortable. Sissel was one of the “good” lesser deities, but gods had a different definition of good and evil than people did.

                “And what are these points, you speak of?” Leit asked.

                “Isn’t it obvious? You’re sitting on it right now?” Sissel replied with a giggle.

                Leit glanced down at his enormous package. Was Sissel really implying that he was willing to trade the mass Leit had accumulated for something else?

                “And what kind of ‘prizes’ are you offering?” Leit asked. He was skeptical to say the least, but he was already treading dangerous ground by asking for a god to rethink his boon.

                “Oh. The usual things you adventuresome types crave. Would you like to be a little stronger? A little taller? A little smarter? Mortal bodies are so easy to shape, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Sissel said with a cackle.

                “So, I give up the size that you’ve granted me, and I get a… for lack of a better word… an upgrade to some other part?” Leit asked.

                “Of course, but I’ll tell you now, I don’t have time for hashing out the minutiae. Well, ok. You got me. I’ve got plenty of time. I just don’t want to. So, I’ll tell you what. I’ll take all the size you have gained so far, and give you a boon to match,” Sissel explained.

                Leit was running the numbers in his head. He could boost one of his attributes? All it would cost was the unwieldy mass of cock and balls that he was currently trapped atop? This seemed too good to be true, which meant it probably was.

                “What’s the catch?” Leit asked.

                “Catch? What’s the catch!? Oh, you wound me so…” Sissel replied. His voice dripping with mock indignation.

                “I don’t mean to be ungrateful. I feel like you were a little too generous with your gifts before, and I want to be sure that this trade is fair for you,” Leit replied.

                “Hmm… maybe you are right. I was a bit liberal with my gift, wasn’t I?” Sissel mused.

                “Right. I appreciate the gesture, but I’d like to make sure we approach the table as equals if we’re going to negotiate,” Leit said.

                “Oh, alright. I suppose that’s allowed,” Sissel replied. “Right then. Full disclosure. You give me all the size you’ve gained in your mortal dangly bits, and I’ll grant you a boon of strength befitting what you have given up. Once that’s done, I’ll send you merrily on your way to do more good deeds and gain more ‘points’. Then once you’ve saved up enough, come find me again, and we can do the trade again. Rinse and repeat as nauseum ipso facto lorem ipsum yadda yadda whaddya say?”

                Leit was already trying to think one step ahead. Sissel wouldn’t lie, but he wouldn’t necessarily tell the truth. The trouble with a trickster god was that they tended to be tricksters. Yet, Leit couldn’t see anything necessarily wrong with what Sissel was saying. Leit picks a reward, his dick goes back to how it was before all this began plus. Then he’s free to earn more size which can later be traded in for more buffs? It sounded like a great deal, and if Sissel was going to continue to grant Leit size with each puzzle he solved, he’d soon once again be too encumbered to move. Which meant that Leit knew exactly what his first request would be.

                “Alright. I think that’s agreeable,” Leit replied.

                “Ooooh goody. I was hoping you’d say that,” Sissel said excitedly. His voice sounded honest enough, but his voice always had that impish glee to it that made it impossible to trust anything he said.

                “So, I can pick one… I guess attribute? Let me carry more without being weighed down. I would like to be stronger,” Leit said.

                “Easy enough,” Sissel replied. Leit still couldn’t see the spirit, but he could hear a sound like the snapping of fingers.

               Leit suddenly felt his body surging with energy. He looked down and noticed that he was glowing! Leit was already pants-less, but the energy coursing through him quickly burned away his shirt and cloak leaving him completely nude atop his own immense balls. His already dense, defined muscles seemed to tighten. They weren’t getting much bigger, but his whole body felt denser and stronger.

               “Huh…” Leit mused out loud as he flexed his pecs. With each passing second, his muscles grew denser and more defined. He used to have a strong, flat midsection, but he could now see his mostly flat belly tensing into a well defined 8-pack set of abs. His biceps were bulging so much that he looked like he was flexing even though he was completely relaxed.

               “What? Did you want them to get bigger too? I thought we both agreed that you didn’t want to be weighed down,” Sissel teased.

               “No. This is great, actually. I won’t even need to get a new wardrobe!” Leit replied. Although, even as he said it, he knew that wasn’t true. He traveled light, and his main outfit had been thoroughly obliterated.

               Leit was so fixated on his muscles that he didn’t notice the mass draining from his package at first. His dick was rapidly dwindling. It had once been so huge that he could sit atop his schlong sidesaddle and not even have his feet touch the ground, but now it was only barely thicker than his dense, muscular midriff. The shaft was barely longer than he was tall, and his nuts had gone from the size of the large massive ale kegs they kept in the basement of taverns to a much more manageable pumpkin size.

               Leit already felt so powerful, that he was half tempted to ask for Sissel to stop right then and there, but Leit knew that if he called for this to stop too soon, Sissel might get offended, and it was better to abide by their agreement than try to make any changes this late in the game. After all, it had been so easy to gain all this mass, Leit had no reason to doubt it would take him long to get back to the same predicament he had been in mere moments before.

               Leit’s cock and balls continued to dwindle down to more manageable sizes. Soon his schlong was shorter than his arm and as thick as his now very defined quads. His nuts were now closer in size to watermelons than prized pumpkins. Again, Leit thought about asking Sissel to stop, but thought better of it.

               Leit’s cock and balls continued to get smaller and smaller. Soon it was only as long as his forearm and thick as his wrist. His impressive pecker was topped off with a pair of grapefruit sized stones. An enormous rod by most people’s standards, but Leit was starting to have second thoughts…

               Yet Leit could do nothing but stare as his dick got smaller and smaller. Soon it was barely longer than his middle finger. He was approaching his old size in a hurry, but his now perfectly average softy was still shrinking.

               “H-hey, Sissel…?” Leit asked nervously.

               “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts,” Sissel said impishly.

“It’s already smaller than I started!” Leit protested.

               It was true, his dick was now shorter than his pinky and a hair thinner than his thumb. His nuts had shrunken down below the size of peach pits and were now closer to the size of cherries!

               “I already told you, I would reduce it down to the size you started with,” Sissel explained.

“But it’s already too small!” Leit protested.

               “But you were much smaller before,” Sissel explained with a devilish cackle.

               The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Sissel never said he would reduce Leit’s dick down to the size it had been before Leit had firs encountered the spirit. Sissel had said he would reduce Leit’s dick down to the size “he had started with”, and in this case that meant the size that Leit had born with!

               Leit stared in shock as his already puny pecker dwindled and dwindled. His dick was now shorter than his thumb and thinner than his pinky. His nuts had gone from the size of cherries to the size of cherry pits, and still it was shrinking!

               Down and down it went. His dick was so short that he could measure his dick against the knuckles of his pinky instead of the digit itself. His rod didn’t even reach the first knuckle. It was as skinny as the stem of a dandelion. His nuts were now so small that the entire tightly packed pouch was now the size of a macadamia nut.

               “There. That’s a good look on you,” Sissel said with a cackle.

               Suddenly a gust of wind surrounded Leit. He raised his arms to cover his face as leaves and twigs blasted around him in all directions. Sissel’s laughter seemed to get farther and farther away as Leit was buffeted.

               “Sissel! What are you doing!? Get back here!” Leit shouted.

               “Why should I? I’m fulfilling our arrangement. Didn’t I tell you? I’d shrink it down and send you on your way? Think of it as a head start on all those good deeds you have to do,” Sissel voice echoed playfully in Leit’s mind.

               “Sissel! Get back here!” Leit shouted.

“Get back here? But I never left?” Sissel words echoed in Leit’s mind.

“What? But?” Leit sputtered.

The winds had stopped. The raging torrent had been replaced by other noises. Noises that Leit would rather not hear right now. Leit could hear mutters and gasps all around him. He lowered his arms and realized that he was now standing dead center in a crowded market. Sissel had sent Leit back to the main hub of the continent… sans equipment… sans clothes… sans dick.

               Leit was too stunned to cover himself. His newly empowered muscles and his newly miniaturized cock openly on display as the people in the market stopped to gawk at the fully grown man with an infant sized dicklet who was fully nude in the middle of the market.

“Sissel!” Leit yelled in a harsh whisper.

               “Oh, don’t be so dour. I already told you you can earn it back by doing more deeds,” Sissel’s voice chided.

               “Yeah. Ok. I gave the town a good show. That’s got to be worth a little, right?” Leit hissed.

“Oh, that would have been worth a bit back in the day, but weren’t you the one to say I was a bit too generous with my gift? You’ll have to try much harder to impress me…” Sissel said. His voice fading away into nothingness as he finished his parting barb.

               “Sissel!” Leit hissed, but his cry was met with only the sound of murmurs from the crowd who were now engrossed in the sight of the man who still hadn’t bothered to cover up.

               “Sissel…?” Leit pleaded, but again there was no response from the spirit.

               With his attention no longer fixated on the nature spirit, the reality of his situation slowly dawned on him. Leit glanced around at the crowd of onlookers. His face burned beet red, and his micro-dick twitched from all the attention. As Leit glanced around, he realized that he hadn’t just been dropped in the center of the market. He had been dropped at the doorstep of the adventurer guild where he had gotten his start. Leit now stood there unarmed and unhung before his friends and former colleagues. Leit noticed the looks on their faces and the gestures they were making. He reached down and covered his dick. His package was now so small that he didn’t even need both hands. He didn’t even need one. He could cover his package with just the tip of his thumb.

[Previous Chapter]

[n-evermores]

Could i request sansa x reader? It'd be cute when reader bakes a lemon cake for sansa haha, thank you

When Life Gives You Lemons

Pairing: Sansa x Reader (could be seen as platonic or romantic)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 800+

A/N: I loved this request! It's so cute. I wrote this pretty late at night, so I hope it makes sense. haha.

You usually avoided the kitchen. Not intentionally, but because you had no reason to be there. But today was different. Melancholic was the only word you could use to describe Sansa Stark's demeanor lately. She smiled, but you could see the sadness behind her eyes. The Red Wolf missed her siblings, and you could only imagine she felt more alone than usual. She received a letter from Arya, but she knew it had been written months before, making her realize just how far apart they really were. She spent many years away from her siblings, and now that she had them again, they all went their separate ways.

Not wanting her to feel alone, you spent hours trying to figure out a way to cheer her up. You considered setting out to find any sliver of plant life in the sea of snow to bring her. But honestly, you knew that would only end in disappointment. You even thought about having one of the bards write a song for her, but knowing Sansa she wouldn't enjoy something so ostentatious. Finally, after passing a servant wheeling a cart of lemons, you ended up in the kitchen of all places.

The servants giggled as you fought with the cake batter. At least they took pity on you and helped you with the lemons, but they showed little mercy as you whipped the gooey lemon batter inside the wooden bowl. Droplets flew out and splattered over your face. But even so, you managed to dissolve most of the clumps into a smooth, creamy substance. The smell of flour and lemon was potent, and even you couldn't wait to bite into it.

"She's coming!" A young servant girl shouted in a small, squeaky voice.

You felt your heart beat quicker in your chest. Sansa was supposed to be in an important meeting and said it was an arrangement that could "last for hours." But judging by the footsteps echoing down the corridor, you knew that meeting must have finished a lot faster than she anticipated. Why was she so early? You feared your entire surprise would be ruined. You could only imagine rebuilding Winterfell and restoring it to its former glory took much of Sansa's time. But not enough time to bake a cake apparently.

You shook away your thoughts and tried to focus on the task at hand. "I'm not finished!" You said as you quickly poured the batter into a pan. "Stall her!" You insisted as you shoved the pan into the oven. It's not as if the cake would be ready in the time it took for Sansa to make her complete trajectory into the kitchen, even with the servants attempting to distract her from your endeavors. You dusted your hands together, sending residue of flour into the air. You turned in a flurry, staring wide-eyed at the tall redhead. "Sansa. Hi." You said dumbly.

Sansa quirked a brow as the corner of her lips tugged into a smile, "What are you doing down here?" She asked calmly. Her hands were clasped together in front of her. Her tall regal stature was intimidating and made you feel almost like a timid child in her presence.

You swallowed, feeling embarrassed as giggles from the servants filled the room. "Nothing." you lied, and terribly so.

Sansa chuckled lightly, knowing it wasn't 'nothing,' and moved closer to you. Her eyes roved over your face, and you saw amusement glimmer in her pale gaze. "Looks like batter." She swiped her finger over your face and brought it to her lips. "It tastes like it too." Her eyes gentled as the taste and smell began to fill her senses. "Lemon. My favorite." She murmured.

"Yes, well. It was supposed to be a surprise." You admitted, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Her eyes sparkled, "It still is." She said, "I can't believe you're baking a cake for me." She laughed. It was a light, airy laugh that warmed your heart and wrapped around you like a hug. Seeing Sansa happy was all you wanted.

"Well, I thought it would make you happy."

She nodded, "It does." she reached out to take your hands. "Thank you." She whispered. You could tell by the softness of her voice that Sansa knew precisely why you did it, "For cheering me up." She glanced at the servants, and as if they understood her silent command, they hurried out, leaving you alone with the Queen of the North. She pulled you close, hugging you against her furs.

"You're a good friend. I'm so lucky to have you." She murmured against your hair. You sighed as warmth and relief washed over you.

"I'm always going to be here for you." You said, and she squeezed you tighter. She may not have had her siblings in Winterfell, but at least she had you and lemon cake.