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fatgirlonadate-blog · 2 months ago

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21 Days - Day 14

They say that to know someone is to love them. But what about loving someone without really knowing them? There aren't any famous quotes or pretty sayings for it, but it's just as real. You'd know because you're living it.

There's love at first sight, you suppose. But that isn't what happened with Xavier; it was almost the opposite. He'd been so beautiful that it was hard to look at him, but he had seemed strangely wary of you. He'd looked at you like you were somehow just as dangerous as the wanderers lurking in the shadows.

No, it was definitely not love at first sight. Xavier was mysterious and intriguing, but there was no life-altering pull toward him the moment your eyes met.

Not like there was when you had met Sylus.

Fuck. Not now; not Sylus. More confusion is the last thing you need.

Xavier's fevered promises have been replaying in your mind like a song stuck on repeat since last night. It was easy to ignore them when you were focused on caring for him, and even more easy to forget them as he caressed and kissed away all of the thoughts from your mind. But in the quiet moments since, his pleading words, said so brokenly, are all you’ve been able to think about.

Whatever it is that haunts him has now also possessed you.

You want to believe that it's not important. You know you need to let it go. If he wanted you to know, then he would let you in without having to push him for it. But curiosity is in your bloodstream now, circulating through all of your thoughts and feelings.

How can you fully love him while only knowing half of him? Maybe even less.

It's not like you don't know him at all - you do. In the past two weeks, you've learned more about him than you ever thought you would. You know the exact way he likes his milk tea, the feel of his fingers moving inside you, and that, if it came to it, he’d lay down his life for you without a second thought. And yet, you don’t even know if he has a middle name or what his life was like before he woke up in yours.

"What are you thinking about?" Xavier asks, his voice dragging you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

You're curled up on the couch beside him, snug against his side, wrapped in the warmth of his arms. Most of the day has been spent right here with him, just like this. He claimed that the only surefire cure for his cold was a horror movie marathon, but you’re fairly certain it was actually just an excuse to cuddle you all day. Not a moment has gone by without him touching you somehow—a hand resting on your thigh, an arm lazily draped over your shoulder, or his legs intertwined with yours.

His fingers glide down your arm now, lightly stroking your bare skin, and you realize he's still waiting for you to answer his question.

"Your birthday," you lie, saying the first thing that comes to mind. "It's almost here."

"Yeah," he nods. "Do I still get to pick the book?"

"Only if you are a very good boy," you tease, knowing you've already picked out a book and more for his special day.

He laughs softly, and you both fall quiet as his attention turns back to the television. You try to focus on the screen, you really do, but that ghost is back and so are all of your questions.

Does he even remember the things he said while he was sick? It doesn’t seem like he does, and he probably wouldn't want to talk about it even if he did.

The day has been nearly perfect, and there's no reason to ruin it. He looks so happy and at ease with you in his arms, and being with him like this is all you ever wanted. So why do you need more?

You don't need more. You don't, you don't, you don't. You love him. And isn't that enough? Love is patient.

But you, apparently, are not.

"Xavier, how old will you be on your birthday?"

His fingers on your arm pause for the smallest fraction of a second before resuming their caress. "24. You didn't know that?"

Liar.

You knew that would be his answer, but it does not make it sting less.

You have no idea how old he actually is, but he's definitely not 24. Despite all logic, he can't be. It's obvious that he and Lumiere are the same person, no matter how often he tries to insist otherwise. It shouldn't be possible; Lumiere would have to be in his 40s and Xavier hardly looks a day over 21. But, somehow, they're the same person. You know it's true even if you don't understand how it could be.

Your silence catches Xavier’s attention, and his curious gaze flickers to your face. You force a small, tight smile, hoping to mask the disappointment you feel. But you must fail because he frowns and glances away, shifting uncomfortably.

You should say something. You should joke or tease him just to ease the tension like you always do when you know he's lying. But all you manage is a soft hum of acknowledgement, unable to trust your mouth not to betray your thoughts.

The movie continues to play, the screams and gunshots coming from the TV sounding much louder now in the quiet room. But neither of you are paying any attention to it anymore, and you can practically feel him thinking from where he sits stiffly pressed beside you.

Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh, and his body relaxes against yours, "Ask me again."

"What?" You say, not trusting your own ears.

He shifts to turn toward you, reaching up to stroke the side of your face as he meets your gaze. "Ask me your question again. Please."

He's nervous, you realize. It's written all over him: from the slight tremor of his hand on your cheek to the way his eyes scan your face anxiously. He's afraid of this.

And maybe you are, too.

"On your birthday..." you trail off, losing momentum, caught between the fear of the truth and the sting of another lie, "will you be turning 24...for the first time?"

A silent struggle plays out in his blue eyes, torn between uncertainty and longing.

"No," he admits quietly, "not for the first time."

It's hard to remember to breathe as you absorb his words. It’s not that his answer shocks you; you’ve known for a long time that he was lying about his age. It’s his honesty that has you gaping at him in surprise.

He actually told you the truth.

You should be brimming with questions and desperate for answers, you know that. But you are neither as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a tight hug. A wave of unbridled happiness rushes through you, and you have the silly urge to cry.

It’s just a few simple words��nothing to warrant this surge of emotion. But it feels like so much more. It’s a beginning, a tentative promise that, maybe, just maybe, he’ll let you truly know him.

The look in his eyes as you pull back from the hug is hard to read. There’s fear in there, definitely, but maybe also a hint of relief shining back at you.

"So... how many candles should I get for your cake?" you ask, trying to lighten the moment and ease the worry on his face.

His brows raise in surprise, and then his shoulders shake as he laughs, "A lot. Too many for a cake."

"100?" You guess, aiming higher than seems reasonable.

"More."

"150?" You squeak, your voice pitching up an octave at the very idea.

"Many more than that."

Your mouth drops open in surprise, and you'd swear he was fucking with you right now if he did not look like a deer staring down the barrel of a hunter's rifle.

"200?" You guess again, the number sounding even more ludicrous as it leaves your lips.

Xavier scrubs a hand across his reddening face and groans, "Still more."

A choked laugh slips out as you try to process that. Just how old is he? Ancient? Prehistoric?

Xavier fidgets with the pocket of his hoodie, his smile tight and forced. It starts to fade as your stunned silence stretches on, and he lets out a shuddering breath before speaking.

"I know it sounds..." Xavier starts and then stops, shaking his head as he tries to find the right word. "...impossible."

Impossible. Yes, it does sound impossible, and crazy, and a dozen other words that wouldn’t begin to describe how you're feeling. There are no words big enough for this. So instead, you lean forward and kiss him, hoping the press of your lips can say everything that words alone aren't enough to express.

Your fingers tangling in his hair are reassurance that it’s okay. That yes, this is crazy, but you believe him, and it doesn’t change anything—because it’s him. He could be a thousand years old, and you’d still be here.

Your tongue seeking the seam of his lips is a silent confirmation that you understand: you’re both standing at the edge of something that could change everything, but you’re not afraid. Not when he’s the one beside you.

He’s motionless against you for a fraction of a second, but then his fingers curl into your hair at the base of your neck, pulling you closer as he tilts your head to deepen the kiss. The way he parts his lips for you speaks for him, too, promising you everything. His heart, his time, and his secrets.

When he finally pulls away from the kiss, he leans back just far enough to catch his breath before brushing his nose against yours. "You're not freaked out?"

The stressed, anxious sound of his voice, even after you just poured every ounce of love and acceptance into that kiss, makes you realize for the first time that maybe he hasn’t been keeping secrets from you. Maybe he’s been keeping them for you—too afraid of scaring you away, too afraid of losing you.

"Xavier," You whisper, cupping his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. "Nothing about you could ever, ever scare me."

He holds your gaze in silence for what feels like an eternity, worry and doubt etched into the lines of his face. Then, slowly, his face begins to crumple and his shoulders sag, as if he can no longer bear whatever weight he's been carrying.

Instinctively, you guide his head to your chest, shifting to pull him into your arms, and offering him comfort in the only way you know how.

"Nothing?" He breathes out shakily.

"Nothing," You reassure him, running a comforting hand through his hair. "Not a single thing."

You sit in silence, soothing him in your arms, as you struggle to process the reality of the last few minutes. You had hoped blindly that someday he might let his walls come down, but it was a half-hearted hope. You'd spent more time trying to accept that he probably never would.

But now he has.

There’s more, you’re sure of it. His age can't be his only secret, and so many questions swirl in your mind—big questions, complicated questions, questions with the potential to hurt. But as you hold him and stroke his back, you’re surprised to find that most of the answers you wanted so badly don’t feel nearly as important as you once thought they were.

You must truly love him, because the question you want to ask most isn’t so earth-shattering after all. It’s something simpler, almost trivial, with no reason for it to matter as much as it does—except for the fact that this tiny truth is more precious to you than all the rest.

"What were you like when you were young?" You ask, smiling at just the thought of it.

It’s not what he’s expecting, clearly, and his startled laugh rumbles against your chest before he pulls back to meet your eyes.

"That's what you want to know?" he asks, his voice laced with disbelief. A smile flickers onto his face, easing any trace of the tears that had been threatening to fall.

"Uh huh," You nod eagerly.

"I was..." He tilts his head to the side, considering it, "not so different from the way I am now."

You scoff and roll your eyes. "Xav, please, you have to give me more than that. I know it was like a million years ago, but you must remember. What were you like in school? What was your family like? I don't even know if you have siblings."

His lips quirk up slightly at the edges, “A million? Really? I am not that old."

"Oh, so just half a million then?" you tease, giggling at the exasperated, offended look on his face. "Tell me. Please, pretty please."

He’s silent for several moments, and that familiar, bittersweet distance clouds his eyes. His hesitation makes you wonder if this is where his willingness to share ends, if his walls are still firmly in place and he’s only allowed you a glimpse through a narrow window. But then, miraculously, his smile wins out over the frown, and his eyes find yours, soft and open.

"I don’t have any siblings,” he begins, “but, yes, I had a family. They were...difficult. My father and I didn't agree on very many things, some of them more important than others." He swallows hard and looks away, as if that particular admission is painful. "I tried to be what they wanted, but I couldn't. We weren't close."

Had? Tried? Past tense. Your stomach twists as it hits you: Xavier is an orphan, like you. It's another piece of yourself mirrored in him—another reason he feels so much like home. Because neither of you have one anymore, and what you've found in each other is the closest thing to it.

"Are you...from here?" You ask awkwardly, not sure how to phrase your question without sounding like an idiot. Asking if he's an alien or a god or something feels too stupid to say out loud.

"No." He says softly, shaking his head. "I'm from...another place. Far from here."

"What was it like?"

"It was..." He trails off, choosing his words carefully. "...different from here. The people there live for a long time. So yeah, I'm kind of old, I guess."

You can't help the bubble of nervous laughter that erupts at the absurdity of this situation. He is kind of old, and not from this planet, and you love him, and maybe he is an alien?

It is absolutely insane, but it makes more sense than it should. Is it really that much weirder than the aethercore lodged in your heart or the wanderers showing up on Earth?

"So...just to make sure I understand," you start carefully. "You are a really, really, really old man from...outer space. Right?"

His brows furrow, and it looks like he's going to correct you for a moment, but then he laughs. "Basically," he says, rubbing a hand against the nape of his neck.

"How did you get here? Like...why are you here and not wherever your home is?"

He sighs harshly and glances away, his easy expression slipping back into that guarded one as he shakes his head.

"That is a question for another day." He answers, jaw clenched, but there's an apology in his eyes.

Disappointment flares to life in your chest at his refusal, but you squash it. He has been more honest than you ever expected him to be. It seems that whatever ghost that still stands between you cannot be banished so easily. There must be a reason for it, and you are trying to trust that it's a good one.

"What were you like as a kid then? You never answered. Did you go to school and stuff? Did you have friends?"

He nods, and some of the tension eases from his jaw, "I did go to school. A...military academy. Where do you think I learned all of my swordsmanship?" A soft smile lights his face, as if he is recalling a genuinely fond memory. "I didn't have a lot of friends. But the ones I did have were very special to me."

It’s hard to picture him with friends—not because he’s unlikable; he’s incredibly charming. But you’ve never seen him show genuine interest in anyone besides you. You wonder what they were like, and if he must miss them terribly. Is that where that mysterious, sad look in his eyes comes from? Does he want to go back?

Yes, he misses someone. You would bet your life on it. But not his family. Someone else who was important to him.

"Did you ever have a girlfriend?" You blurt out, jealousy getting the best of you.

He hesitates, frowning, and your heart seizes in your chest. This answer shouldn't be important. But some instinct tells you that it is; that your worry that perhaps you are sharing his heart isn't just a jealous delusion.

"No, not exactly," he says, his lips pressing into a thin line, withholding any further explanation.

Not exactly? Oh, hell no. That means yes.

You want to press him on it; you want to know if this ghost has a name and if he loved her - if he still loves her. If she is the reason for that far away look in his eyes and why he gives you that bittersweet smile so often. But the question is stuck - frozen in your throat.

You open your mouth to speak, but find you can't ask it. Not when this particular answer does actually scare you.

"Do you remember your first kiss?" You ask instead, trying to move past the sick feeling of jealousy coiling in your belly.

"I do," He answers, flashing you a cheeky smile. "It wasn't very good. I don't think she really wanted to kiss me. She did it because she thought she had to."

"What?" You practically squawk, your jealousy fading to surprised disbelief. Who in their right mind would not want to kiss him?

Xavier’s smile inexplicably widens, and he laughs as if you’ve told him a joke whose punchline only he understands.

"It's true. It was more like bumping noses than kissing, and she only did it to keep up appearances." He shrugs and cups your face in his hand, rubbing his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. "But the second kiss was much better. She let me try again, and I think we both liked that one."

Your brain nearly stops functioning as you connect the dots, and your initial disbelief is replaced by an even stronger shock. Is he describing your first kiss? He can't be.

How the hell long has he been alive? There's no way that was his first kiss. It cannot have been.

You swat his hand away from your face and scowl at him, "Very funny, Xavier."

"I'm not joking," He says, laughing quietly and catching your wrist with his hand before you can swat him again. He pulls you close and nuzzles your cheek, placing a soft kiss just beneath your ear. "It was my first kiss."

"Really?" You reply skeptically, squinting at him.

"Yes, really."

“But that’s...how is it even...200 years? 400 years?” Your words stumble over each other, incomplete, as you struggle to believe what you're hearing.

He lets out a soft, breathy laugh, a hint of pink coloring his cheeks, and he presses a line of kisses from your ear to your cheek. “I guess I was just waiting for the right girl.”

You’re stunned into silence, caught between disbelief and wonder. If you had not already been hopelessly in love with him, then this would have done it. It would have sent you careening over the edge with no possible hope of return.

His first kiss. You were his first kiss. Of everything he has said today, this is the thing that's most shocking. How can it even be possible? Never mind the fact that this means he'd have gone hundreds of years without a kiss, he's just plain too good at it to not have more experience. He kisses you like he's done it thousands of times, and he certainly doesn't touch you like a boy who had never been kissed before.

Wait a minute. Wait a damn minute.

The evening you were caught in the rain with Xavier replays in your mind, and you remember the pained way he refused you when you'd asked him for more than just his fingers. 'Waited so long. Don't know if I can be gentle with you.' That's what he had said, and you thought he meant weeks - that he had been pent up for weeks. But did he mean...years? Centuries?

"Are you a virgin?" You squeak out, your eyes widening comically as the possibility slaps you in the face.

The blush on Xavier's cheeks turns positively crimson, and he ducks his head, refusing to meet your eyes. "Well...I mean, sort of."

"You totally are!" You counter excitedly, playfully jabbing a finger at his chest.

He mumbles something quickly, his words too fast and too low for your brain to even begin to process them. Not that you could focus enough to hear him anyway, because if your kiss had truly been his first, then you must be his first everything.

It’s nearly impossible to believe, but somehow, it fits him—just like everything else about this does. And the longer you think about it, the more it makes sense. He’s old-fashioned because he is old; so very, very old. He still blushes around you because all of this is new to him. He can’t get enough of touching you because he’s never had the chance before.

He has been starved for affection, you realize. For hundreds of years. If you were not so elated you would feel bad for him.

You have to hold back a gasp as understanding dawns on you. Is this why you've been trapped in the land of heavy petting and dry humping? Is he going to make you wait until marriage to have sex with him? The thought is funnier than it should be, and you cannot hold back the growing hysteria anymore, your giggles tumbling out of your mouth on their own.

Xavier clears his throat and reaches for your face, gently holding it in his hands, guiding your gaze to his. His eyes are an intense, electric blue as he repeats his mumbled question, this time more clearly, “Are you?”

He watches your face expectantly as your laughter fades and his question sinks in.

Oh, shit.

It never crossed your mind that he might ask you the same thing, and the way he’s staring at you—sharp, focused—makes it clear that your answer is important. It matters to him.

"Um..." You hesitate, feeling backed into a corner by the intensity in his eyes, "...kind of?"

"Kind of?" He echoes, his eyes flicking down your lips. "What does that mean?"

"It means...that I've done some things, but not all of the things. You know, touching and kissing and stuff. But not like...all of it. Not all of the way," You finish lamely, your cheeks feeling like they might actually burn you up.

He falls silent for a moment, his brows knitting together as his eyes narrow on yours. “With someone else?”

There's a rough edge to his tone, a warning and a promise wrapped into a single question. The implication is clear, and you can practically hear his possessive thoughts as he waits for your answer. It's almost intimidating.

But mostly it's fucking hot.

"Um, yes?" You squeak out.

He nods slowly, his eyes darkening as he slides his hand from your cheek to rest lightly on your neck. "Where?"

"Huh?"

"Where did they touch you?" He clarifies, his thumb gently stroking the column of your throat.

Your pulse quickens under his touch. His hand isn’t squeezing or holding your neck tightly; it simply rests there, his fingers warm against your skin. You know, deep in your bones, he’d never hurt you. But the awareness that he could, if he wanted, sends a thrill through you that makes your heart pound.

It's unfair, really, how quickly he can go from a blushing boy one moment to a man who makes you tremble the next.

"Xav, no way," You say somewhat breathlessly, and the blush on your cheeks grows even hotter, "I am not telling you that."

He hums softly, eyes searching your face, though you’re not entirely sure what he’s looking for. Whatever it is, he must find it, because he nods and begins to slide his hand down from your neck.

“Here?” he asks softly, his fingers tracing gently along your collarbone just above the neckline of your tank top. “Did they touch you here?”

You nod wordlessly, a quiet thrill of anticipation coursing through you.

He leans in, pressing a soft line of kisses from the center of your collarbone to your shoulder, gently scraping his teeth along your skin as he completes his path.

A shaky breath escapes from between your lips, and he pulls away just slightly to ask, “Did they kiss you like this?”

“N-no,” you murmur, your voice catching as every ounce of blood in your body seems to rush south, robbing you of your ability to speak.

“No? Then what about...” he trails off as his hands slide down to trace along your breasts through the thin material of your top, “has anyone else touched you like this?”

“Xavier...” you try to speak, to tell him he is being ridiculous, but you're cut off as he grasps the hem of your shirt and begins lifting it up over your chest. You lift your arms instinctively as the fabric catches under your armpits, and he pulls it off completely, tossing it onto the floor.

"Here?" He asks, not waiting for a response as he dips his head to place gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your cleavage, his hands slipping behind your back to unhook the clasp of your bra.

"Xav, it doesn't matter," you whisper, feeling the cups of your bra fall away as he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it onto the floor to join your shirt.

"It does matter," he answers, palming your breasts in his hands and gently pinching your nipples between his fingers. "Because you're mine now."

A small gasp escapes your lips as a jolt of electric pleasure rushes from your nipples, down your spine, and settles between your thighs. You know you shouldn’t encourage this—he’s too jealous for his own good—but he's right. You are his now. And the thought of him replacing every touch, every kiss you've ever known with one of his own is too tempting to refuse.

You’re nodding before you even realize it. A soft “Yes” slipping from your lips as your fingers find the hem of his white hoodie, tugging it upward, needing to see him, too.

At your urging, he quickly pulls off his hoodie, then the t-shirt underneath, his muscles flexing with the movement. The sight alone is almost enough to make you moan. He’s so fucking gorgeous. You could see him like this every day for the rest of your life, and it would still never be enough.

The moment his shirt hits the floor, his hands are on your shoulders guiding you back onto the couch until he's on top of you. You can feel the hard length of his cock pressing against you through his jeans, and you have to squeeze your thighs together just to ease some of the ache between them.

He trails his lips down your chest, pausing to tease each nipple with his mouth, before kissing a slow path down to your belly button. He presses a warm, wet kiss there, and you gasp as his tongue slips into the small hollow, swirling around it. The sensation is new—unexpected—and you giggle helplessly at the wet tickle.

He lifts his head to smile up at you, and his eyes are an even brighter shade of blue now, shining with amused pride. He laughs, moving back down to nuzzle the spot with the tip of his nose, making you giggle again. "No one has kissed you here?"

You shake your head, threading your fingers through his hair and grazing your nails against his scalp as he kisses along the waistband of your leggings.

A wave of pure affection hits you as you watch him worship your skin, realizing only Xavier could make you giggle like this while your pussy throbs with need for him.

He continues his slow path of kisses across your stomach, pausing occasionally to run his tongue along a particularly sensitive patch of skin, making your back arch off the couch. You're not sure if he's teasing you on purpose or if he's just exploring. Maybe a bit of both, judging from the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth each time you gasp.

You're ready to beg, willing to promise him anything, by the time he finally moves lower and parts your thighs.

"What about here?" He asks, placing a kiss to your clothed pussy, his lips right above your clit. "Has anyone else ever touched you here?"

"God, Xavier, please," you groan, pressing your head back against the cushion and bucking your hips toward his face. But his hands are firm on your hips, holding you still, silently waiting for his answer.

"I don't remember," you lie breathlessly.

"I think you do," He argues, the heat of his mouth so fucking close, you swear you can feel it.

It's hard to think with him between your thighs, and your pussy is so slick and wet that you can feel your panties sticking to your skin. You're so desperate to feel his tongue against your clit that you'd say anything - embarrassment be damned.

"Yes," you pant, frustrated and needy, "but no one has ever kissed me there."

His eyes darken and a low groan rumbles in his throat. You can't tell if it's pleasure or disappointment, and before you can decide, he's moving off the couch.

You whine at the loss of contact, but he's already on his knees in front of you before you can complain. His hands grip your thighs, pulling you forward until your ass is on the edge of the cushion. You watch, breathless, as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your leggings and panties, and then begins dragging them down your thighs. You lift your hips to help him, and you don't miss the strangled sound that leaves his mouth when he sees your pussy - bare and wet and ready for him.

Pleasure then. Definitely a good sound.

"So perfect," He says under his breath, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes glued to the sight between your thighs.

Xavier’s hands slowly rub up your bare legs, his touch gentle but possessive. He leans in to nuzzle his face against your inner thigh, dragging his nose over your skin, and inhales deeply. You start to tremble as he trails kisses higher up your thigh, pausing every so often to nip or gently suck.

“You always smell so good,” he murmurs between kisses.

A hot spike of embarrassment shoots through you as you realize he can smell you, smell just how wet you are, and a desperate sound somewhere between a whimper and a shy giggle leaves you.

Xavier’s kisses slow to a stop as he reaches the apex of your thighs, his breath catching as he looks up at you. His eyes are wide and his cheeks are flushed, the color creeping up to his ears, which are tinged pink. He looks almost achingly shy - uncertain but starving.

He's never done this before, you realize, and you open your mouth to say something - encouragement or instruction. But your words turn into a gasp as he nuzzles your clit. The tip of his nose brushes over the small bud of nerves, sending sparks of pleasure up through your body.

Your fingers thread into his hair, gripping gently to guide his mouth to where you need it. And it takes all your control to stay still as his tongue teases your entrance, licking a slow, deliberate path upward until he finds your clit again

“Oh God,” you gasp, your fingers tangling even tighter in his hair. “Yes, Xav—right there. More…”

He hums low and pleased, sending vibrations all the way through your body. You can feel him smiling between your thighs as you buck up, trying desperately to push against the light pressure. He takes his time - lazily circling your clit with his tongue and lapping at it until you're a whimpering, writhing mess.

You're wondering how he could possibly be so good at this as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. Stars explode in your vision as the warm, wet heat of his mouth closes around you, and you think your soul would leave your body if he were not holding you down.

There's not enough air in your lungs as you moan and squirm under his mouth. You're dying - you think, but you don't especially care as long as he doesn't stop. You think he slips one, maybe two, fingers inside you at some point; you’re not certain. The feel of his mouth against you is so good that you can't process anything else; it's the only thing that exists.

“Xav, please. Please. I'm going-”

He nods, lips still wrapped around your clit, and the slight scrape of his teeth—just enough—sends you spiraling over the edge before you can finish your sentence. The heat coiled low in your belly erupts, flooding through every nerve as waves of pleasure ripple through you. Your hips press hard against his mouth, seeking more as your pussy convulses around his fingers.

Xavier doesn’t pull away as you moan and grind your pussy against his face. His mouth follows your movements, continuing to lick and suck as your orgasm begins to fade, your walls squeezing weakly against his fingers as aftershocks pulse through you.

He keeps licking and kissing you until the sensation is overwhelming, and you're forced to pull at his hair to escape from his hungry mouth. With a final, lingering kiss to your pussy, he slowly withdraws his fingers, and rests his cheek against your thigh as he catches his breath.

He looks as wrecked as you feel—his pupils dilated, hair disheveled from your touch, and his breath shallow as your wetness shines on his lips and chin. The way he looks at you, like he wants you so bad that it hurts, makes you want to give him everything and more.

You watch as he licks his lips, savoring the taste of you, before slowly sucking on the fingers that were inside you.

"Xavier," You choke out his name as your soul really does leave your body this time. You are dying. This beautiful man is killing you, and the last thing you will see before the light at the end of the tunnel is him sucking on those fingers as his cock strains against his jeans.

But there's no way in heaven or hell that you can die without seeing him, touching him, tasting him.

"You're mine now," He whispers, dragging his mouth along your thigh, "only mine."

"I was already yours," you say in a breathless rush, tugging at his arm, any lingering shyness fading as urgency takes over.

He rises to his feet and his lips finds yours instantly. The kiss is deep and wet, and you taste good in his mouth.

Your hands fumble blindly on the button of his jeans. You finally manage to get his pants unzipped, and he groans against your mouth as you slip your hand inside to palm his cock through the cotton of his boxers. He’s so thick and hard that your fingers barely meet around him.

His breath catches at your touch, and needy desperate sounds come out of his mouth as you stroke him through the fabric.

"Please, I need..." he begs, his voice breathless as his hands move quickly to strip off his boxers and pants. He kicks them aside, and before you can fully take in the sight of him, he’s pushing you back onto the couch and climbing on top of you.

"What do you need, Xav?" You ask, reaching between your bodies to wrap your hand around his hard length. It's so silky and hot, and it twitches in your hand when you swipe your thumb over the tip, slick with precum.

"I need..." He says again, burying his face against your neck and rocking his hips to thrust into your fist hard.

You’re waiting, praying, and hoping he’ll say he needs to be inside you. You've never been more ready in your life and the slide of him against your hand has you ready to beg him for it. But then he moans deeply against your neck and you feel warm, wet heat spilling over your hand, coating your stomach.

Oh.

He collapses on top of you, burying his face into the curve of your shoulder, hiding his face as he catches his breath. His chest rises and falls with the intensity of it, and a rush of pure, tender affection floods through you. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, fighting the urge to laugh at the sweetness of the moment.

"That was... I’m..." he mumbles.

"Perfect," You finish for him. "You're perfect. And that was perfect."

He breathes out a laugh against your neck, then lifts himself on one arm to look down at you. A smile spreads across his face as his eyes meet yours, and in this moment, he looks lighter—happier than you’ve ever seen him.

He looks free.

#lads fanfic #lads x reader #lads xavier #love and deepspace #lnds #fanfic #xavier x reader #lads sylus #l&ds #l&ds xavier

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pinguwrites · 1 year ago

Note

Hey idk if your requests are still open, if not then please disregard this, but can I request a dark fic where older dilf cillian is tied to a chair and the reader uses his dick (noncon) to “milk him of his babies” to get themselves pregnant, and he is like nono please don’t get pregnant but he can’t do anything about it? Thank you 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻😫😫😫😮‍💨

i creamed my pants reading this

Drabble: You milk Cillian of his babies

Pairing -> sub!cillian murphy x dark!reader

Warnings: NON-CON, DARK!, sub!cillian, breeding kink, dark!reader, age-gap (cillian's early fourties, reader's early twenties), next door neighbor!cillian, drugging, implied they met when reader was underage, use of little girl and good boy, slapping, hair pulling, biting

Disclaimer: This is not a reflection of Cillian Murphy's actual life. This is completely separate and is not intended to harm him or his family in any way. DNI if you're a Yvonne hater. This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Cillian Murphy didn't think that you were capable of this—his sweet next door neighbor, that innocent little girl who used to cling to him like a shadow, the one that asked for help with homework, the one that had now drugged and tied him to a chair, hands and legs bound, as you rode him to no end.

"You're getting older," you mused as Cillian cried. "Gotta do it now."

The sensation was too much for him to handle. He’d thought about it before, much to his shame, but not like this. Not you stealing orgasm after orgasm out of him, biting his neck and pulling his hair, with a wicked smile that made him feel like he was being tortured by the devil herself.

“Please,” Cillian whined, trying to squirm away from the pain and pleasure. “Please don’t do this, I can’t get you pregnant—fuck!—you’re too young.”

He could feel another orgasm coming. He was secretly hoping that you were on birth control this entire time, that this was all a cruel prank, but he knew deep down that you were serious.

You were raping him. You wanted him to breed you.

"I only did it cause you want it," you snapped, giving Cillian a light slap. “Mmm,” you tossed your head back as you bounced, “saw the way you looked at me. Dirty old man. Wonder what people will think when they see me carrying your child.”

Cillian shook his head. “No, no, no. You have to get off. I can’t. I can’t.”

“You can. I’m probably pregnant already.”

“Then stop,” he begged. “Stop it. Take—take the ropes off. I won’t be mad, I promise.”

“We’re not done yet,” you moaned. “Oh, Cilly! Need’a take your cum, every last fucking drop.”

"P-please, I can't take it anymore.” He felt like he was about to collapse. He couldn’t keep up with your stamina. “Jus' a little break,” he pleaded.

“Tired?” you teased.

“Yes.”

“I guess I’m too much for you.” You laughed. “You better get used to this.”

Your face fell once you noticed tears streaming down his cheeks. “No, don’t cry.” You wiped them away. “Don’t you love me?”

Cillian felt like he was backed into a corner. Why was he still feeling soft towards you? He should be angry—livid, even. But he couldn’t, not towards his little girl.

“I do.”

“And you’ll be there for our child? You’ll marry me, right?”

"Yeah," Cillian whimpered, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. "You know I will. I'll always take care of you.” Even as you hurt him, took advantage of him, he couldn’t help his feelings.

"Good boy,” you said, a pleased look on your face. “I’m so lucky you’re mine. Now—stay still, stop wiggling, and let me milk your cock.”

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@shroombloom-rry

@meetmeatyourworst

@mrkdvidal1989

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #fanfiction #pinguwrites

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eruherdiriel · 1 year ago

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Something I've been thinking a lot about lately is how Jon knows what it's like to be burned. With his hand, he doesn't feel it in the moment but that's probably adrenaline more than anything else.

"You do not look well. How is your hand?" "Healing." Jon flexed his bandaged fingers to show him. He had burned himself more badly than he knew throwing the flaming drapes, and his right hand was swathed in silk halfway to the elbow. At the time he'd felt nothing; the agony had come after. His cracked red skin oozed fluid, and fearsome blood blisters rose between his fingers, big as roaches. "The maester says I'll have scars, but otherwise the hand should be as good as it was before." "A scarred hand is nothing. On the Wall, you'll be wearing gloves often as not." It was not the thought of scars that troubled Jon; it was the rest of it. Maester Aemon had given him milk of the poppy, yet even so, the pain had been hideous. At first it had felt as if his hand were still aflame, burning day and night. Only plunging it into basins of snow and shaved ice gave any relief at all. Jon thanked the gods that no one but Ghost saw him writhing on his bed, whimpering from the pain.

-AGOT, Jon VIII

And then there's the scene of his wound getting cauterized. Which, yeah, he's otherwise injured and just escaped the wildlings, experiencing a lot of physical pain and internal turmoil, etc., etc. Still:

Maester Aemon sniffed Jon's wound again. Then he put the bloody cloth back in the basin and said, "Donal, the hot knife, if you please. I shall need you to hold him still." I will not scream, Jon told himself when he saw the blade glowing red hot. But he broke that vow as well. Donal Noye held him down, while Clydas helped guide the maester's hand. Jon did not move, except to pound his fist against the table, again and again and again. The pain was so huge he felt small and weak and helpless inside it, a child whimpering in the dark. Ygritte, he thought, when the stench of burning flesh was in his nose and his own shriek echoing in her ears. Ygritte, I had to. For half a heartbeat the agony started to ebb. But then the iron touched him once again, and he fainted.

-ASOS, Jon VI

This doesn't even touch on how he feels about the R'hollor crew and stories of people intentionally being burned. Whether he's there when King's Landing burns or hears about it, he will be able to empathize with the people of the city. There will be survivors, some with burns like on his hand and some with way worse. There won't be enough milk of the poppy for everyone. There will be men, women, children, soldiers, civilians, and old people burned and screaming in pain. Before KL burns, Jon will have heard about the other places DT has been as well. They're not gonna be pals.

But there will be conflict in his interactions with DT. Jon fiddles with his hands when he's conflicted or distressed:

Jon's breath misted the air. If I lie to him, he'll know. He looked Mance Rayder in the eyes, opened and closed his burned hand. "I wear the cloak you gave me, Your Grace."

-ASOS, Jon II

Lots of examples from AGOT, when his hand is still freshly burned and in more pain:

"Grief and noise," Mormont grumbled. "That's all they're good for, ravens. Why I put up with that pestilential bird … if there was news of Lord Eddard, don't you think I would have sent for you? Bastard or no, you're still his blood. The message concerned Ser Barristan Selmy. It seems he's been removed from the Kingsguard. They gave his place to that black dog Clegane, and now Selmy's wanted for treason. The fools sent some watchmen to seize him, but he slew two of them and escaped." Mormont snorted, leaving no doubt of his view of men who'd send gold cloaks against a knight as renowed as Barristan the Bold. "We have white shadows in the woods and unquiet dead stalking our halls, and a boy sits the Iron Throne," he said in disgust. The raven laughed shrilly. "Boy, boy, boy, boy." Ser Barristan had been the Old Bear's best hope, Jon remembered; if he had fallen, what chance was there that Mormont's letter would be heeded? He curled his hand into a fist. Pain shot through his burned fingers. "What of my sisters?"

-AGOT, Jon VIII

When Jon had been Bran's age, he had dreamed of doing great deeds, as boys always did. The details of his feats changed with every dreaming, but quite often he imagined saving his father's life. Afterward Lord Eddard would declare that Jon had proved himself a true Stark, and place Ice in his hand. Even then he had known it was only a child's folly; no bastard could ever hope to wield a father's sword. Even the memory shamed him. What kind of man stole his own brother's birthright? I have no right to this, he thought, no more than to Ice. He twitched his burned fingers, feeling a throb of pain deep under the skin. "My lord, you honor me, but—"

-AGOT, Jon VIII

Jon raised the hood of his heavy cloak and gave the horse her head. Castle Black was silent and still as he rode out, with Ghost racing at his side. Men watched from the Wall behind him, he knew, but their eyes were turned north, not south. No one would see him go, no one but Sam Tarly, struggling back to his feet in the dust of the old stables. He hoped Sam hadn't hurt himself, falling like that. He was so heavy and so ungainly, it would be just like him to break a wrist or twist his ankle getting out of the way. "I warned him," Jon said aloud. "It was nothing to do with him, anyway." He flexed his burned hand as he rode, opening and closing the scarred fingers. They still pained him, but it felt good to have the wrappings off.

-AGOT, Jon IX

Not until he was well beyond the village did Jon slow again. By then both he and the mare were damp with sweat. He dismounted, shivering, his burned hand aching. A bank of melting snow lay under the trees, bright in the moonlight, water trickling off to form small shallow pools. Jon squatted and brought his hands together, cupping the runoff between his fingers. The snowmelt was icy cold. He drank, and splashed some on his face, until his cheeks tingled. His fingers were throbbing worse than they had in days, and his head was pounding too. I am doing the right thing, he told himself, so why do I feel so bad?

-AGOT, Jon IX

#jon snow #tw burns #idk how to trigger tag this #nor do i know what this is or what i'm doing

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sealeneee · 3 months ago

Text

what's this. this bitch writes sometimes.

fandom: swtor

«failures», 762 words, pg-13, gen

warnings: swearing, suicidal themes, possible ooc

characters: theron shan & katona nardanna (oc); don't tag as ship

if you notice any typos/mistakes please let me know

Night has long fallen on Odessen as the Commander effortlessly steps over the railing of the base's roof. Carefully keeping her balance at the very edge, she grabs the banisters behind her, flinching at the coolness of the metal. Someone with a less grim mood would probably admire the starry void above.

"Going somewhere?"

The man's voice is rather casual for the situation he's facing. Katona smirks. At least he knows better than to get all teary-eyed at her.

"Yeah, wanted to go grab some bantha milk."

"What, you'd leave your kids all alone? I knew you were capable of cruelty, but that seems excessive even for you."

"«Kids», hah. Half the base's older than me, Theron."

"Aww, we're all still your little ducklings. Don't be silly."

The half-sincere, half-sarcastic tone of the conversation doesn't change. It has always been like that for them — masks of fake cheer not strong enough to cover the bleak nature of the conversation, but enough to chase away the heartrending unease of talking about your feelings.

"Seriously, though. What's bothering you? No promises on a resolution, of course, but I can offer things like getting blackout drunk or wreaking havoc."

"I already do the latter almost on a daily basis, Shan."

"True. So?"

"So."

The silence stretches for a couple minutes. It's never truly quiet — the soft hum of the electricity and the distant sounds of the local wildlife fill the void.

"I just feel like... like I'm running in circles. Powerless. Chasing shadows. Grasping at the faintest leads, and feeling them slip away from my fingers. I've accomplished nothing so far."

"Tona. You have an entire military base under your command."

"That was all Lana. I didn't even know it existed", she gestures at the buildings below them. "I didn't even want to lead this! But as usual, nobody else can, blah blah, it falls to me." The dramatic offense in her voice is insincere, playful.

"Right. And the killing of the Emperor was Lana too?"

"No, but if you didn't notice," she taps her temple, "that wasn't very successful either."

"Jeez. You really find a way to undermine all of your achievements."

"I'm just stating the obvious. I've failed spectacularly in many aspects of my life." Katona chuckles and shifts her weight, still balancing on the edge of the building. "Yet somehow that hasn't stopped people from assigning more shit to me."

"I don't see how most things in your life can be categorized as «failures»."

"Let's go through the list, then. Getting rid of the Emperor? Certainly didn't work out. Stopping his kids? Work in progress. Makeb? Not sure, but I was chewed out by Saresh anyway–"

"Hey, as if she doesn't chew everyone out for everything."

"Not the point. Still wasn't a good result. You know what else wasn't a good result? Fucking Ziost."

Theron's face darkens at the mention of the Imperial world. The failure of that operation can't be attributed to a single person, but he always seemed more affected by it than the rest.

"Anyway", Katona continues, not pausing to take a breath, "you get the point. I've failed many times. Guess the biggest failure is at being a Jedi — don't think I need to elaborate that one to you."

"No, you don't. But you know what?", he steps closer to the rails, "you're not the only one who failed at being Jedi here, Tona."

Katona turns to look at him, her expression skeptical. What he said is somewhat true, but the circumstances couldn't be more different. Theron doesn't stop at that.

"From one failed Jedi to another, let me tell you this. It gets better. Not quickly, that's for sure. But it does. And for days when it doesn't, I'll be here for you. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who shares the sentiment."

She doesn't answer him for a bit. When she finally does, her voice is softer, almost a whisper.

"Thanks." She smiles gently, turning her head to look at him. "So that's what we are, huh?"

"Yeah. Two nocturnal fuck-ups standing on a roof in the middle of the night."

Katona snorts.

"You came here of your own volition."

"Yeah, and now my volition says we're both leaving. You need at least a few hours of sleep."

Theron outstretches a hand, and Katona takes it, hopping back over the metal fence. The stars above them are just as uncaring, and the night air is just as cold, but something about the atmosphere doesn't feel as hostile and unwelcoming anymore.

#swtor #oc: katona #i'm not tagging the other guy.#unfortunately this will still show up if you search his name not as a tag but i want to minimize the chances regardless #um. yeah.#i haven't finished a fic (yes even this short) in years. be nicies to me #picture mostly to make it more noticeable but also somewhat related

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tmnt-tychou · 1 year ago

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All Hallows Eve

Meant to be Bayverse, but you could probably imagine its any of them.

Female Reader x All Four Turtles (Slightly Mikey x Reader)

All Hallows Eve

She was dressed as an angel, standing on a street corner looking lost. The white feathered wings with matching boots seemed to glow with a light all their own in the dark, tin-foil halo glittering above her head. She caught Michelangelo's attention with her costume, but he had no plan to approach her at first.

Halloween was the one day a year where he and his brothers could walk the streets in the open without people screaming for their lives. But it still came with its own caveats. They only went out at night and stayed away from any bright lights that could give people a clear look at their forms. And they could never stay in one place for too long. People would compliment their “costumes” in passing, but if they lingered, people would realize they were too big, too real to be costumes.

So even though they were out among the humans, they continued to live in the shadows like ninja, but enjoying the fanfare of a New York Halloween. It was the closest any of them could get to feeling like part of society and Michelangelo milked it for all he could. He kept moving through the neighborhood block parties, enjoying the costumes and partaking of the street food.

That was when Michelangelo saw her. She seemed to be looking for something, or she was lost. But he wasn't sure if he should approach. Not until she looked his way; looked right at him. Her eyes were big, haunting. And they drew him in like she needed him. He found himself walking out of the crowd toward her.

“Hey there, Angel,” he said, referring to her costume. “You okay?” He knew he was big, even for someone pretending to be in a costume. He tried to hunch, make himself smaller. Non-threatening to a woman being approached by a stranger.

She didn't seem to be bothered by his looks or his size. She almost seemed relieved someone had asked about her. “I...I think I'm a bit lost. I was trying to get to a party, but I don't know the city very well and...” she looked at her empty hands, “I've misplaced my phone so I don't have the address.”

“Well that's no good,” Michelangelo replied. “Can I help you find it? Do you remember the address?”

She shrugged helplessly. “I only moved to the city a few weeks ago. I don't know where anything is. I met some people who invited me to this party.” She paused for a moment, as if trying to stop herself from getting emotional. “I just wanted to make some friends here.”

Michelangelo knew better, but he spoke anyway. “I'll be your friend. My name's Mike. My brothers and I are just out enjoying the vibe. Do you want to hang with us for a bit? Then I can make sure you get home when you're ready. Uh...that is if you're okay kicking it with some strangers for a while.”

She smiled, grateful. “That sounds like a lot of fun. Are your brothers giant turtles, too?”

He laughed. “Yeah, we all decided to wear the same thing. Like a group costume.”

He didn't notice she mentioned nothing about costumes.

***********

“What I'm saying is the whole shtick of The Addams Family is that they're weirdos,” Donatello said as he chewed on a caramel apple slice. “They're different than anybody else. But when you put her in a boarding school where everyone is weirdos—supernatural creatures—you're throwing the whole gimmick of the franchise out the window. The story would have worked better if the school was full of normal people. And she would have been the only one able to solve the murder mystery because only she would have suspected a supernatural killer.”

Raphael picked up his forth taco of the night. For a mutant his size, they were hardly a mouthful. But damn, they were so good. “I dunno about any of that, Don. But if you didn't like 'Wednesday', you don't have to keep watching it.”

“Yo, broooos!” Michelangelo called from below. “Come meet our new friend.”

The three other turtles looked down from where they sat on various levels of a metal fire escape. Each had been enjoying the food they collected from the street party, but had ultimately decided to eat in private and watch the people from the alley where they hid.

Leonardo, who was perched just a little higher than Raphael, leaned down so his face was more to his level. ��Does Mike have a human with him?”

Raphael sighed. “Looks like. He's always been a sucker for a pretty face. Especially one that will say two words to him. Any two words. Even if it's 'fuck off.'”

Leonardo smirked and then gripped the railing. “Well, let's go meet Mike's new friend and hopefully that will be that.” But he wasn't thinking. He just hopped over the rail and landed two stories down like it was nothing.

Even Michelangelo was silently motioning for him to cut it on the ninja stuff as the two remaining brothers climbed down like normal people.

“So these are my brothers: Don, Raph, and Leo,” Michelangelo introduced. “And this beautiful angel is uh...” He looked helplessly to the human woman.

“Angel works,” she smiled back. “Hi.”

They all smiled back at her, a little awkward and a little clueless on what to do with her.

“Angel got lost trying to get to a party,” Michelangelo continued. “She's new in town and doesn't know the city too well. I thought we could hang out with her for a while and then make sure she gets home safe. What do you guys think?”

The brothers looked at each other and wordlessly agreed. How could they turn down anyone needing a safe chaperon for the night?

“You hungry, Angel?” Raphael asked.

“I could eat.” Her shrug made her cute little wings flap slightly and all four turtles went a little soft for her. She was a woman their age and she looked at them without fear. Like they were her peers. Like they were normal. How could they not go a little soft for that?

As the bottomless pits they were, the turtles didn't mind buying more food for themselves as well. They were happy to purchase anything Angel wanted while they were at it. At first, they wanted to make it quick. They knew lingering out among the humans for too long would give them away. But this time, something amazing happened.

Angel happened. All it took was one person to be with them. To talk with them like they were normal people and that strange bridge between human and mutant was built. With Angel near them, no matter how much their size crept into the uncanny valley for the masses, they were normal. Other people partying on the street didn't stare at them and quickly walk away anymore. A few people even stopped to compliment them on their costumes or even ask how they were made.

Raphael usually answered with random comments like “animatronics and rubber suits” or “it's CGI” and people would walk off confused. But not scared, and that was the important part.

As Leonardo ordered a basket of fries at a food truck to share with their new friend, he heard her talking to Donatello.

“Right?” she was saying. “This boarding school wasn't even really Addams Family core either. It was like...slightly spookier Hogwarts. Slightly. Fucking Harry Potter. Now everything has to be at a school.”

“I see you both have some strong feelings about a TV show,” Leonardo joked as he approached them. He offered Angel the warm fries in his hand. He thought she would take the whole basket, it was mostly meant for her. But she only took a few.

“For the most part, I was pretty on board with the whole show,” she continued. “But when Wednesday was stabbed, that was...jarring. Usually the family is portrayed as either liking pain, or they are somewhat impervious to injury. Maybe a bit of both. You never really know for sure. There's almost an immortal feel to them. There's just too many stories today that should have been original projects, but they keep being tacked onto existing franchises, but they don't have any respect for the lore.”

“Exactly!” Donatello agreed. He also grabbed a few fries and put them in his mouth. “The show and the story weren't bad per se, but it's not really an Addams Family story, so it wasn't as satisfying for fans as it could have been with a few tweaks.”

“God, are you still dragging that show?” Michelangelo sighed. “Angel, come dance with me. Let's enjoy this party while we can.”

He grabbed her hand, so small and delicate in his. She allowed him to lead her out into the thick of the crowd. The Monster Mash was playing over the speakers, a DJ at the stage in the front. The two found themselves a space to boogie and went about shaking their asses, just another normal pair in the sea of costumed party-goers.

“So what made you move to New York?” Michelangelo asked.

“Just trying some place new,” Angel replied. “Got tired of the little podunk town I came from. Not a lot of work there. Was hoping to find more opportunities out here. Maybe get some schooling in. What about you? How long have you been in the NYC?”

“All my life. Was born here. Might even die here. Big fan of the Big Apple.”

“Oh yeah? What do you do with yourself here?”

“Uh...” He paused for a bit, brain trying to come up with a reasonable response. No one had ever asked him his occupation before. “I work with the city in kind of a...crime watch capacity. Trying to clean the crime off the streets, make neighborhoods safer. That kind of thing.”

“Oh, like with the police?”

“I mean...we work with the police sometimes but what we do is more like...a neighborhood watch situation but on a larger scale.”

“Does that pay anything?”

“Uh, not really. It's more of a non-profit type organization. Donnie's the one that makes all the money. He's into tech and sells patents and stuff. He sort of bankrolls us so we can keep going.”

“Oh wow, that's a really noble goal. Though how to do watch the neighborhood on nights that aren't Halloween? With you guys being big turtles and all?”

At first, Michelangelo thought she was joking. “Heh, what?”

“You know, you guys are big turtles. How do you get around the other days of the week if you look after the neighborhoods? You can't convince people these are costumes forever.”

It was such a jarring revelation that Michelangelo's brain shut down, and then immediately went into panic mode. He picked her up under his arm like she was a plank of wood and fled the open area. He slipped through the crowds of people with an uncanny ease for his size and then continued to run past where his brothers were standing.

“Mike!” Raphael called after him.

When that didn't even slow his brother down, the three followed after him into a small, dead-end alley that was poorly-lit and would have very little visibility from the street.

“What?” Leonardo asked as they caught up with him. “What happened?”

By then, Michelangelo had set Angel back on her feet and then chewed nervously on his nail. “She knows!” he hissed, as if he were trying to keep it a secret from those who may be nearby.

“She...knows?” Raphael parroted, confused.

“That we're turtles.”

“Yeah, of course you're turtles,” she replied. She touched Michelangelo's arm and he visibly stiffened at her contact. “Clearly, these aren't costumes. I just think it's cool that you come out one night a year to hang out with people like this.”

“Uh...we actually come out a lot...just not...you know, street level,” Michelangelo replied.

“You mean you...” she pointed to the rooftops. “Is that where you live?”

“No, but it's how we usually get around.”

“Oooh! Like Batman!”

“Right! Yes! Like Batman!” Raphael agreed with excitement.

“Okay, okay, lets calm down,” Leonardo said. “This is a lot to take in all at once. You realized we weren't in costume and you didn't really say anything?”

Angel shrugged. “Hey, you guys were nice to me and you weren't trying to like get me alone in a dark alley or anything. Uh...except for right now. But you guys seem safe. What do I care what you look like? There's not many nice people in this city.

“I thought I would at least be meeting some fun strangers for a night and have the best Halloween. And maybe I would see you guys again, or maybe you were something magical that only happened on All Hallows Eve. Either way, it would be a good memory.”

She looked at the brothers who all had various bewildered looks on their faces. This person, she was someone special. Someone interesting. Someone who rolled with the weird and uncanny. Someone they could possibly make friends with. It had been years since they had dared to bring a new person into their world.

“So...what do you want to do now?” Donatello asked.

“I liked what we were doing,” Angel replied. “Let's keep hanging out. Eat good food, dance to music, talk to each other. And maybe I'll see you again after this?”

The brothers all looked at each other and smiled.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Raphael agreed while Michelangelo nodded excitedly.

“If you're okay with the turtle thing, we're definitely hanging out again.” Michelangelo offered his arm and she took it.

They went back to the block party. They danced and joked. They enjoyed the music, the food, the costumes. The turtles were brighter now. Not so guarded, not so careful or suspicious of the people around them. It had been a long time since anyone new had appeared into their close circle of people they trusted. This was the first one who was their own age. She had seen them and accepted them on sight. This knowledge came with a bit of a happy high for the turtles. A burst of hope and joy at being discovered and immediately accepted without even a demand for an explanation.

And they wanted her to know. They wanted her to see their world. After this night of costumes, they planned to see her again, to show her and share what they were with her. It had been a good Halloween night.

“It's getting late and it's getting cold,” Leonardo eventually announced. “Angel, can we help you get home?”

“If you could walk me to my car?” she replied. “I parked a few blocks away.”

She nodded in the direction they needed to go and Leonardo hovered a hand over the small of her back to guide her.

“It's our pleasure.”

“You think your phone is in the car somewhere?” Michelangelo asked. “If you find it, we can trade numbers.”

“You guys have phones? Like normal phones?” she laughed.

“Of course,” Donatello said in a pragmatic tone. “Why wouldn't we?”

“Oh uh...I guess you could get phones if you really wanted them. Sorry, my bad. I guess you guys feel more magical than practical to me. Like you'll just poof away at the stroke of midnight. Knowing you have phones makes you feel a little more real.”

“Oh, we're real, Angel,” Raphael said with a flirty smile.

“And we'll be your friends if you want us to be,” Leonardo said softly. “We don't have many of those.”

“Neither do I,” Angel replied with the same soft tone. “I would really like that a lot.” They walked a few more feet and she pointed to the last building on the block. “My car is just around this corner.”

As they turned the corner, the turtles jumped back at the sudden red and blue flashing lights. Several police cars and one ambulance were clustered around the accident site of a two-car collision.

“Shit, Angel, I don't think we can walk you all the way to your car. But you should be hella safe with all the—” Michelangelo turned to the woman who had been standing right next to her. But in a blink, she was no longer there. “Angel?” He looked around, then looked at his brothers. “Dude, where'd she go?”

“She was...just right there,” Donatello said in confusion.

Leonardo peered around the corner to see if she had gone on ahead while Raphael looked behind them.

“I don't think she bailed. Where is she?”

Pressed to the side of the building, Leonardo audibly gasped. “I think...I see her.”

The others huddled around him to see what he was looking at. Out of one of the smoking cars, paramedics carried a female body dressed all in white, complete with halo and feathery white wings. White that was marred with smatterings of dark red blood. The body was set on a stretcher where the entire form was covered in a white sheet. No further first aid was administered to costumed angel as she was wheeled to the ambulance. That could only mean one thing.

“What? That...no, that can't...” Michelangelo struggled. “She was here with us all night. I touched her. I fucking picked her up in my arms!”

In his ear, he heard Donatello's ragged breathing, as if he were about to have a panic attack.

“Hey!” A police officer caught their shadows peering around the corner and they quickly ducked out of sight. When the human started toward their location, they quickly took to the rooftops in hopes of getting a better view. But by then, the body was already loaded into the ambulance to be taken away and Angel was nowhere else to be found.

***************

Her death didn't even make the news. What was one collision with a drunk driver with all the other crazy stuff that happened in New York on Halloween? And the turtles were never quite sure what happened that night; what they truly witnessed.

Only a few days into November, they all stopped talking about it. Tried to pretend it didn't happen. And it worked for most of the year. But then...October rolled around again. And as Halloween drew closer, the brothers didn't generate their usual excitement for their one holiday a year when they could go out on the street among the citizens. They still didn't talk about it. And when the night came, there was a certain unspoken trepidation in the air.

“You're not going out tonight?” Splinter asked them as they all brooded in the living room.

“Thinking about it, but...” Raphael trailed off.

“It just feels...weird,” Michelangelo added.

The other two brothers didn't say anything, but they seemed to agree with the sentiment.

“It is a shame your friend passed away after you had only known her for a while,” Splinter said. “But I don't think she would have liked that her memory tainted this holiday for you. You should be thankful you were able to have that time with her before she was gone.”

There was an uncomfortable silence from the turtles. As much as they tried to explain, Splinter never quite understood what they experienced. In his mind, they had met their friend during the party and then she had died in an accident on the way home after. All attempts to explain to the contrary resulted in failure.

“What if you went out just for a while to pay your respects? Perhaps find some closure,” Splinter then offered.

The brothers perked up a little and looked at each other. Something about that felt right.

**********

They went to the site of the crash, a year ago that day. They thought maybe anyone else might be there. Someone who missed her. Someone who felt the loss of her. Humans left flowers at sites like these on an anniversary like this, right? But there was nothing there. A year later, no evidence that the incident ever happened. The only proof that a life was lost here was that several of the road's street lights had been fixed. The collision had been largely blamed on most of the street lights being in disrepair at the time, even though one of the drivers had been drunk.

The turtles stood beside the street, out of the direct glow of the repaired street lights.

“So...do we say something or...?” Donatello asked softly.

“I dunno, we hardly knew her,” Raphael responded.

“Say something if you feel like it,” Leonardo offered.

They were all quiet for a moment, then Michelangelo spoke. “Well, Dudette, you seemed to be a super awesome chick. Too bad we didn't get a chance to see how awesome you really were.”

“A true tragedy,” Donatello agreed.

They stood for a while more and then turned to leave. The music and noise from the block party near by reached them before they could remove the nearest manhole cover.

“You guys wanna pick up some food before we head home?” Michelangelo suggested. “Grab something for Splinter too? See a few costumes, listen to some music before we go?”

The season called to them. It always did. The one festival a year about darkness and masked faces. Spooky fun and all sorts of delicious food. They had to be a part of it, just for a while.

The brothers split up, aiming for their favorite vendors. It wasn't like the year before, where they had a human friend hanging out with them, making them look normal. Now it was back to sticking to the shadows. Darting in and out to get what they were after and then sneaking back to the allies so no one stared at them for too long, lest they be figured out.

Michelangelo meant to grab some caramel apples for himself and one for Splinter, but the music and the atmosphere of the party caught his attention. He still wished to be in the middle of it. Talking with people, laughing, feeling like one of them. Even on this day of magic, he could only exist on the outskirts.

And then...something caught his eye. A woman dressed all in white. A little glittery halo and white, feathery wings. His breath caught in his chest. She turned, as if sensing his eyes on her. Angel looked right at him and smiled.

Happy Halloween

Tag List: @thelaundrybitch @leosgirl82 @dilucsflame33 @akesdraws-blog @happymoonangel @fluffytriceratops @beautifulfunanchor @asultrysiren @thepinkpanther83 @yorshie @yamanekomono @androidships007 @raphsmuneca @igotlostinthesewers @silversunskyless

#tmnt #ninja turtles #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2016 #halloween

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tamelee · 2 years ago

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Hey!✨

Do you think that if Naruto’s parents would never die, he would be as spoiled and bratty as Boruto? (I mean hate for father because he works too much etc.)

Hi Nonee 💕

No because that would be a really bad way to introduce the Naruto-verse to an audience. It wouldn't work at all.

Naruto was bratty and a troublemaker. He pulled pranks because it was the only way to gain attention from people since they were all avoiding him. Negative attention is still attention.. and to the mind of a neglected child who lives in solitude that's a reward as it is acknowledgement to their existence. And so his behavior made sense. Boruto needed some sort of plot-point to get his story going. If you objectively look at his situation, without knowing anything about Naruto or its world and how it operates and this is the first time you're introduced to it then his father becomes kind of an asshole. He neglects his family while instantly having time to meet up with his best friend Sasuke. He distances himself emotionally from Boruto by telling him he can't call him "dad" in his office but needs to call him "Hokage" like everyone else, forgets important dates like his daughters birthday, does the bare minimum by sending shadow clones over, doesn't have meals at home but prefers to stay at his office and eats cups of instant ramen instead. He counts headbands and ignores Shikamaru's plea's to go home. So- Boruto acts similarly like his father did when he was a child as is depicted by the pranks that are shown, but for different reasons. Keyword here though, which you've pointed out too is: spoiled. He acts spoiled.

So would Naruto do the same?

First, Naruto's behavior now doesn't fit to his character in the sense that if he genuinely wanted a family of his own, meaning "wife and children" which he never said, "family" can mean many things- in his own words:

...then he would never treat them this way. There are characters he sees as family and he treats them very differently. Kishimoto has helped write material where Naruto was coming home very happy to Iruka and his parents (movie scripts) and that was a big deal!!! Him preferring cup noodles instead of a warm meal... must make you wonder why that is.. yeah? This "sunshine" family in general doesn't make any sense whatsoever. So, force a character into an out-of-character situation and it gets messy.

Naruto wouldn't act the same as Boruto because Kushina wouldn't let him.

Hinata acts passive and in all those years doesn't stand up for neither her kids in that regard or Naruto. She just lets that hatred fester.. Why? Probably because there is no emotional connection between her and Naruto anyway, they're married now and she "loves" him, that's all that matters, right? When Naruto is home he doesn't sleep with her, he sleeps either in another room or crashes on a couch. When she served him tea, there is a romantic drama playing on the tv that she gets emotional over whilst Naruto gets bored to death and falls asleep at the table. They don't have meals together and can't even communicate normally as they have nothing to talk about, nothing in common, there is no connection. Nada. As a creator you can't even fake that. Even Boruto doesn't communicate with them, instead he plays games on his own.

Naruto's entire development was never written for him to end like this. He went from a lonely kid eating cup ramen.. to a lonely adult eating cup ramen. From spoiled milk to having a spoiled kid. So. If Minato and Kushina were still alive.. Naruto would have an entirely different upbringing, perhaps different goals even. Because it isn't just about the character. Minato and Kushina have a good relationship so Naruto would grow up in a more loving home I'm sure of that. We don't have much to go by but 'Road to Ninja' was partly written by Kishimoto (whatever that means), and here Naruto was seen with his parents.

Minato here isn't Hokage but is between Shinobi "duty" still at home playing housewife, an adorable husband and takes care of Naruto. (Menma)

They're both present on his birthday.. (of course.)

After Kushina hugs Naruto, Kakashi points out again how loving they are as a family and everyone knows it. Even in the Manga itself their dynamics are a world of a difference from those few panels we have. I cannot see Naruto ever act spoiled in a bratty way if he had his parents. They'd communicate about the matter and come to an understanding between them.

Boruto just follows a script none of us incl. him wanted ig.

#asktamelee #boruto talk #naruto talk

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peregrineggsandham · 1 year ago

Text

[Here. Have some nonsense about changelings with unashamedly vaguely purple prose. This is rather confusing by intention, but I swear there is a logic to the perspective switching!]

---

Your name is Arthur Elias Ward.

You're getting to the edge of the woods now. The grass is growing longer, the air a little heavier. You can see - not far ahead - the break, the point where forest gives way to meadow. For now, the canopy still casts you in shadow, and the grass is not yet long enough to brush against your knees. You curse hindsight. For a walk this long, you should have worn better hiking shoes, not sandals.

Your brother is walking next to you. He is wearing thick boots, and is perhaps better prepared - though you're the one carrying the water bottles and granola.

"Two hours to the ring, seven to the hill. My legs are going to fall off. Why didn't we ask to meet them at the ring, Art?" he asks.

"That's where the families always take them," you reply. "Because it's so close. And obvious, I mean, a mushroom circle is odd, but a hill is a hill. Anyway, we'll watch it in case there are any more, but I didn't want them to have to go back there. Bad memories."

"Do you think there'll be more?"

"I dunno, Arthur. Marjorie-Ann's having twins. I'm guessing she'll get good at telling them apart, so they probably won't go for her. Lots of new people move in when summer starts, though."

"We'll keep an eye out. If this goes well." A handful of dry leaves crack under your boots. The season could not yet be fall, but might perhaps be described as leaning precipitously. "And an ear. Crying babies aren't quiet. And they always cry."

"'Course they do, their parents don't love them anymore. I'd cry too."

"Yeah. I did." You stop for a moment, and ask your brother to pass you a water bottle. You've been nearly out of the forest for some time now.

"Two crying babies, really," you mutter. "Wailing in a tritone."

"Uh. Hey. Hey, Arthur. The field's getting further away."

"Mm? Oh. Guess they're not ready, yet. Let's keep walking, give them time to relax and get used to us. Nice and slow."

Your brother frowns at you. "You sure it's them doing it? Bit of a big illusion. You couldn't make a coin vanish behind mom's ear-"

"We don't know how many there are, Arthur. Or how old. I mean, the one Carol traded back for her birth-daughter, she's the only one we planned on, right? And then we remembered the one Oliver brought to the circle, got on his knees with the begging and the pleading for his birth-son, that was what - seven years ago? The woman who runs the consignment store - I don't remember her name-"

"She won't tell us. Or anyone, really."

"Ah, fair enough. They did take two of her kids, the one a long time ago, then again, what, maybe a decade ago? So that's four, and those are just the ones that came after us. And the ones we know about. If they made it. They might not have made it."

His hands are shaking, and he drops the cap of the water bottle into the leaves. You bend to fetch it, taking the moment to remove a few sticky burrs where they'd gotten caught between shoe and skin. When you look up to take the bottle back, he is still shaking.

"Half of the things under hills feed on the nameless."

"Even those that made them. I know," you say.

"I don't - I can't blame Carol. Or Oliver, or consignment lady, it's all very simple, right, a trade was made, they only make the same exchange. No big deal. We apologize, our mistake, your flesh-and-blood baby appears to have been replaced with a defective product, we really didn't think you'd notice. Our bad. Please return within the seven-day window in original packaging to receive a full refund."

"I know, Arthur."

"Depends on the thing, though. You can't - I mean you can return an open thing of milk if you realize you had 2% in your bag before someone swapped it for skim, but the store isn't going to put it back on the shelves."

"Arthur," your brother interrupts, but you aren't stopping now, you've been walking for seven hours and your legs ache and this metaphor isn't going over-extend itself.

"You can go back and get the 2%, it's fine, probably only a little traumatized, but you already opened the skim milk, it's sour already, and it's not as if you want anyone else to buy it now, anyway. They all want the 2% they came to the store for in the first place. Not your problem, take it to returns, bada-bing, bada-boom-"

"Arthur."

"What?"

"The hill." Your brother points ahead. Whatever warping of perception had led you both on a long walk to nowhere has finally let up. There it is, then. The end of the woods, and the start of the plains, like the drop off from a coral reef to the abyss.

...Or, at least, like how that drop off is shown in Finding Nemo. You've never actually been to the ocean, but you're confident Finding Nemo is an accurate representation of reality.

"Marlin was going to name half of them Marlin Junior," you say.

He is staring at you now. Clearly worried. Both of you are barely feet from the edge of the woods - the grass is up to your waists now, transitioning into wildflowers under bright sunlight. But here, for just a half-minute more, you are still comfortably in shadow. The hill is clearly visible, a gentle rise whose grasses fade to a bald patch on top - an old stump sits at its summit.

"Half Marlin Junior, half Coral Junior. Dozens and dozens all the same." You aren't sure where this is going but you think you might be afraid. "Then Coral dies, and all the eggs but one - and she'd wanted one to be Nemo - so he just named the one that survived Nemo."

"Do you want to change our name to Marlin Junior?"

"No, Arthur. I- stop smiling. I'm trying to- I-"

"I'm sorry," you say. "Bad time to joke, it's- I know we talked about this. A lot. But I guess I never - well, it's mostly me we talked about, wasn't it? Whether I'd be okay with it, and I am. I mean, I did it once."

"As a literal toddler who didn't know any better than to wander out into the woods, introduce yourself to your new doppelganger best friend, and undo mother's days and days of hard work tracking down a fairy ring and ripping her son's stolen name out of the not-a-child she carried there demanding they give him back?"

"Yeah. And I'm still okay with it."

Your brother looks skeptical. That's fine. You've given up trying to convince him that you don't regret him.

"And now, hey, legal adult here, able to enter binding contracts under human law and all that, and I am entirely okay with this plan. And you said you were too, Arthur. But I'm - I don't know that we discussed it enough. I've said, again and again, I can share, it's fine, but I need you to know it's also fine to back out, we can turn around, there is zero pressure here to-"

"It's mine." You snap. You want to punch something, but the trees would scrape your knuckles to shreds, so you wrap your hands in the long grass and pull until it bites into your palms. "And it's important. This is important, Ar-" you bite your tongue. "I want to do this. I need to do this. I can't let them exist like this. It was - before you found me again, it - I was made to take something and I took it and then it was ripped out of me and you can't imagine what that felt like."

He listens. He is good at that. Of course, you'd forgotten.

"...Do you remember? The seven days, before mom got you back?"

"No. Not really."

"Good. Yeah. Right. Sorry, we've - I know we've talked about this before. It's just." You breathe in and unwind the grass from your hands, long bands of red around them where they'd pressed into the skin. "You gave it back and I can't - I believe you, that it's fine. I do, Arthur. I believe you'd have done it again, if you'd met me now. I believe you can do it again, on the hill."

You lean against a tree. "But you aren't sure you can."

Your legs are sore, too, though you'd gladly walk another seven hours without complaint if your brother decided he couldn't go forward. That was fine. This isn't the sort of meeting, or magic, or general situation that you rush.

"I want to. I will." There is determination is his voice that you've never heard in your own. "I think... I just didn't think it'd be this hard. It was easy for you then. Toddler and all. But it's easy for you now, too."

"Sharing is caring." And now he's glaring. Inappropriate time for a joke, take two. Great job. You're on a roll, Arthur Ward.

"Shut- no, but, that's it, though - we don't share. That's not how this works! Every cell in my body is telling me I am about to give my name away, and it is screaming at me!"

He's reaching for the tall grass again and you wonder if you should grab his hands before he slices them open on unexpected thorns, but he only twirls the ends of the blades around his fingers.

"What we have only worked - only works - because literal babies don't know any better. Neither of us knew we couldn't, so we did."

"Dream logic."

"Whatever is waiting out there," and he points to the hill, where the stump sits, quiet and unassuming as stumps are wont to be, "they know better."

"You think they'll, what, take our name and run?"

Your brother sighs. "If there's more than one of them? No. We share it with all four of them at once - or however many are left. I never met any others, it wasn't safe to mingle, but if whatever agreement you made calls the whole lot, I - I don't think any one of them, of us, would see the chance to help them all and not take it."

"That's presuming a whole lot of unselfishness, for fae."

"We were meant to be human."

"Humans are selfish, too," You point out. "Children especially so. And, well, they were only ever children."

"Says Mr. Sharing is Caring."

"Ah, yeah. Fair point."

"If it would work, if it is allowed to happen, they'll let it."

"It'll work. We're proof of concept. Seeing is believing, and all that."

"Stare decisis. We were all born in court, after all."

"And if there's only one?" you ask.

A pause.

"Then they are a nameless fae with nothing left to lose, with power enough to bend light between the trees, and we are already dead."

You meet each other's eyes. The sun has moved enough now that its light just reaches you through the trees. Best move forward, before night comes. At worst, you will be together.

"The funny thing about Nemo, though," he says. "It means nobody."

"For the record," you say, "if you ask me, I'd rather be one of a hundred Marlin Juniors."

"What? Why?"

"It'd have meant the rest of those eggs made it."

"...Oh shut up. About to climb a fairy hill, and we're getting all philosophical about Pixar."

"Procrastinating climbing a fairy hill."

"Right. Right then. Let's do this."

You reach out, take hands - his are grass-stained but no longer shaking - and on the count of three tell each other your name.

---

Arthur Elias Ward sits atop an old stump.

He is patient, and silent, and still. He is busying yourself counting the tree-rings in the stump when the nameless things begin to make themselves known, and so he begins to count them instead.

There is the littlest one, hand-in-hand with the second-littlest, emerging from the tall grass. You grip your brother's hand tighter.

There, beside you on the stump as if they had always been there, is the third, who once answered to a name the owner of the local consignment shop has long since struck from the record, along with her own. Her blood-son is dead, you think. She had taken longer than seven days to notice, and when she bargained for him back, he had already left too many pieces behind.

The fourth claws their way out from the bald dirt of the hill. They are not much younger than you, or him, and they flinch in the bright sunlight, squinting, reaching out half-blindly until they meet-

A fifth. You do not know this one, or what name it borrowed, or from whom, or for how long. They are older than you and him. They smile at whichever Arthur Ward had been born of your mother's blood, and their eyes crinkle up at the edges, and for the first time you think you can remember some part of those days without a name.

Human children, taken, emptied of their selves, are a novelty.

Copies are made without a second thought to fetch new playthings, and when seasons change and the capriciousness of the things under the hill and through the ring makes itself known, the 2% milk too goes stale.

Whichever Arthur Ward is mortal, you think he can remember the eyes of the fifth. You think they hid, and watched you, and you think that if your mother had not come for you, they would have stolen you away a second time, to live among the nameless.

How could the Arthur Ward who is fae never have met another? you think. But you realize, soon enough: The nameless are very, very good at hiding. Rolling out from the stones come a sixth. From dust a seventh. Older and older, particles in Brownian motion all about you coalesce into an eighth, a ninth, a tenth.

The lines of the stump you had so studiously counted twist into half-remembered borrowed faces as ancient as the wood. They swarm the hill. They press in upon each other, dozens deep. You smile at them - your brother takes deep, measured breaths.

"Hello," you say. Which one you are does not matter, in this moment. You are entirely your own person, and you are not your brother, except when you both decide the differences - grand as they are - are not worth fussing over. Moments like these. It's easier to have this kind of conversation, with only a single I.

"Oh. Oh, there are so many of you."

There were. Centuries of logs of wood carved into infants, of clay and sand and bundles of reeds mimicking flesh. Detritus with the sad luck of having souls, flung into the woods in horror, gods, please, please, give me my child back and take this thing away. It was not their fault.

Whatever names had been stolen for them had long since been ripped from their bodies and returned to their mortal bearers. The souls left behind watched you. Waiting.

...You'd had a speech prepared. Quite forgotten. Ah, well.

"...I wish," you say, and stop, because that is not a safe thing to say in this kind of place, and you are a fool but perhaps not that much of one. "In a better world," you start again, "you would all have your own names. I know that is not how it works. I know you have only ever had that which was stolen."

The second-youngest brings the youngest a little closer. They both still look like the children they'd been meant to be.

"But that's not fair, is it?" You look at them. The littlest shakes their head. "Right. Well. One of the first lessons you learn as a kid is how to share. It's not perfect. Easy to lose bits of yourself. But that's fairy rules, you know, everything is like that. I'm like that. It's not easy. But it's fine. Because this way, nothing is ever really lost. Only borrowed."

A breath. "Only one can use it at a time, but it is ours between us, and we would have it be yours. Not given. Shared."

You reach out a hand to the littlest. They take it, carefully, their palm tiny against yours.

"Arthur Elias Ward," you say to them, to yourself, to your brother, and to a hill and a field filled with half-a-thousand forgotten changelings. "It's a pleasure to meet you all."

They say you should never give the fae your real name. You were introduced to a large group of creatures from the fae realm, and immediately told them all your real name. You couldn’t be happier with your decision.

#sam says stuff sometimes #look I have feelings about changelings #I had planned to take a nap three hours ago #instead. this.

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local-idiotic-texan · 2 months ago

Text

This series and its contents contain references to gore, psychological torment, torture, suicidal tendencies, and more. If these topics are triggering to you, please leave.

This episode, in specific, contains:

Descriptions of Gore, Captation

Thank you.

Smoke.

Smoke had filled the room as the final cigarette hit the ground.

“...those are always bad for you.” Flashlight would tell the man in-front of her. “..I know that, younger.” He said, huffing out smoke. “...it was a counter.”

“...for what?” She asked. “...I’m going back with them.” He nodded. “...go be strong, yeah?”

“...nah.” Birdfeed shook his head. “...I’m leaving for another reason - you’ll hear, probably.”

Now, Birdfeed used his key to trigger the door to open.

“Oh! Welcome, welcome! =)” The Hostess exclaims. “You're finally ready to reinstate into our game?” She asks.

“Nawh.” Birdfeed would move through the maze. “Well, you are playing the game, now aren't you?” The Hostess asked. “Sure, sure I am.” Birdfeed followed blowflies to discover Corazón’s corpse.

Here, he stayed silent for a minute to pay respects. “So then why come here?” The Hostess asks. Birdfeed now triggers the Glass Wall trap, waits for it to come to him, then shatters it with the key he has. “...leavin’.”

“Ohh, oh nonono!! Haha!!” The Hostess beeps the remote detonation collar. “You're not leaving! ..so, want my help?” Birdfeed shakes his head. “...clean walls lead to the exit, I know this by now…”

“Oh, what a good job you’re doing!” Suddenly, Birdfeed’s collar clunk to the ground. He had made a makeshift knife and unscrewed the explosive from his neck. “...so fuckin’ stiff… anyways, I’m gonna be on my way now.” Birdfeed said, giving The Hostess the bird - wherever she is.

“...hmm…” As Birdfeed saw the exit, he decided to slide the makeshift knife towards the shadows of the others. “..coast clear.”

As he walked towards them, though, something grabbed him.

and just as quickly took him away.

All the while, nobody had been speaking.

Boba begins to speak, “...we’ve made it white far everyone.” Nobody replies. “..I hope we all know that we're so strong for making it this far. We're so close to the end, y’know?” She says. “...besides, we—”

“GAHHH! GOD DAMNIT! LET GO!!” Birdfeed had cried out.

“Birdfeed??” C4 called out. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?! GET OFF ME YOU FUCKIN’..!”

“Hm…” Newspaper now picked up a knife. “G.. guys, we should help him!” He cried.

“Absolutely! Let's go in!” As Boba Milk Tea began to run, Melatonin Gummies stopped all of them.

“MG, what the fuck?” C4 scowled. “Let us through!”

“You’re all fucking idiots.”

“WHAT?!” C4 said, enraged.

“We don't even know what he got caught in. It could easily be a trap by The Hostess, too. I mean, go ahead, I’ll probably win against Moth if you all run, considering she's literally a fucking bug, but don't say nobody warned you.”

As Melatonin Gummy walked back to the waiting area, the others sighed.

“...he’s right. Let's just wait for The Hostess.” Newspaper nodded, though not happy about his decision at all.

The Hostess returns and speaks to everyone.

After a moment, the PA crackles to life. “Hello, everybody!! Hiiii…!!! =)”

Nobody says “Hi” back, instead staring at each other.

“Well!! Aren't you all just a pack of dead opposums? Speaking of, I have a fun surprise for you all!! =)” She giggles, before cutting off Melatonin Gummy. “No, it's not actually going to be a bunch of dead opposums, freaaaakk…”

“then what is it??” Newspaper asks. “You’ll see! I sweaaarrr.. it's gonna be SO fun! FUN!!!” She exclaims.

“Is it a gun or otherwise something to kill us all instantly?” Melatonin Gummies ask. “Noooo! Not at all! As a matters of fact, the surprise hasn't really hurt anyone, y’know? <)” She says. “Go on now!”

The door opens. “I know it's dark, but go on! It's fun! Trust me!”

Melatonin Gummies sighed as he entered, showing the room IS safe. Moth, Boba Milk Tea, and C4 all go inside, with Newspaper hesitating before he follows them.

As he entered with the others, the door closed.

It was dark. Dry, dark… but not cold. Not hot. It was actually quite temperate for a room of The Smileshow’s.

It was then that a limelight activated, and made its way over to the one in charge - she’d turn around, hair braided and all, and gave them all a horrible grin, a smile only an artist entertained with her work could have.

The Hostess unveils herself with a limelight. “Hello, hello, hello, everybody! I, am your host! ..ess. =)” She gives a twirl and a bow afterwards.

“..yoU FUCKING BASTARD!!” C4 immediately lunges at her. “HOW DARE YOU FUCKING PUT US THROUGH ALL THIS SHIT - ALL THE TRAPS AND THE FUCKING BUGS AND THE ROOMS - JUST FOR YOU TO ACT LIKE YOU’RE AN INNOCENT LITTLE—”

Beep!

“I’d let go if I were you, C4. I could kill everyone - even myself - If I wanted to. Y’know that, right? =)” The Hostess asks. “...ggg.. fuck.” C4 gets off of The Hostess, letting her rise.

After calming down, The Hostess remarks a minigame is to occur, but doesn't answer to what it is.

“There we go! Anyways, we’ve a minigame to play! ^^” The Hostess jeers. “Well, what is it?” Newspaper asks. “A surprise! You’ll see, but first? I need everyone to goooo to sleep.”

“WHAT??” Newspaper recoils. “HOW Are— wait.. what does that mean?” He’d ask.

The Hostess would reply, clapping her hands. “Oh! Let me show you!” As a unseen mist filled the room, making it cold and humid, she wore a gas mask.

“Wh.. whaaaatt the fuck??” C4 stares over at The Hostess, then collapses. This is followed by Newspaper, Melatonin Gummy, Moth, and Boba Milk Tea.

It would take a moment, really, but… eventually? They woke once more. Strapped to a plank on a mill’s line, not active… yet.

“..wh.. WHAT IS THIS?? HOSTESS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!?!” Newspaper screamed. “Oh, calm down! The game hasn't even started yet~!” She waves off. “You're all strapped to a plank, right? Right! These blades will activate. Your minigame is to escape before the blade can kill you! GO! =)”

The sawblades now whirred up and began to pull in the planks towards them. Despite the panic around him, C4 remained calm, and wiggled his arm enough to begin undoing the straps binding him to the mill.

“OHMYFUCKING GOD” Newspaper, however, was not as elegant and could not as easily unbind himself. “OHGODOHGOD WHAT THE FUCK WHATE THE FUCK”

C4, after unstrapping himself, ran to Boba Milk Tea.

“Huh? Wh.. why are you—??” She was released, but confused. “Go get Newspaper.” C4 instructed.

“..huh.. SHIT! NEWSPAPER?!” Boba Milk Tea now rushed to the man in question, who was screaming. “HELP HELP ME OHMYGOD HELP ME OH GOD WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS OHMYGOD HELP ME??” Newspaper pleaded, sobbing. The blade grazed his hair, before he jumped straight onto Boba Milk Tea as the plank he was just on was now annihilated to nothing more than chips.

“Oh.. ohmygod.. uhm…” Newspaper huffed, before…

“FUCK!” C4 recoiled back, as Moth began to screech. The blade had slightly cut into her head, and part of her wing was torn off as a result of getting caught in the blade. “Moth?? MOTH??” Boba Milk Tea caught the buggy friend, just before she had one last convulsion, and died.

“Aaawwww, such a shame!! She only got FIFTH! :,(“ The Hostess said, covering her eyes to mock crying. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?? YOU KNEW IF ANYONE ELSE WAS HERE, WE’D—”

“All be dead? Of course I do!” The Hostess mocks. “That's why this is just the MINIGAME!” She jeers as the door to the next contest opens. “Come on! Get going!” She now comes over, smacking Boba Milk Tea’s shoulder as she paused on something.

“Hmm…” she turned around once more. “There you are! …how did you find the way out? :)” she asked Melatonin Gummy, who wasn't present in the conversation that just occured for some reason. “Weaken the straps on the plank. You make these easy.” Melatonin Gummy now pushed The Hostess out of the way before moving along. “..too… easy? =) hm.”

The Hostess now walked with him into the next room over’s contest.

The area between rooms was a simple hallway, it’d appear, however the room was anything but.

“Your contest for the day? Survive this obstacle course! …with a birdcage around your neck. =)” She turns towards her contestants, now demonstrating on a mannequin.

“You may cross the obstacle course as you like. Besides the birdcage? It is completely safe to cross. However, if you fail the obby…” the Birdcage now slams shut, cleanly chopping off the mannequin’s head, keeping it inside. “...you’ll be decapitated, and your body will hit the ground! <)”

The Hostess immediately stops Melatonin Gummy, blocking him. “AH AH AH!! One more thing! I won’t be present during this challenge… but I’ll still be watching. =)”

“How so?” C4 asks. “Shhh… now,” The Hostess now walked into the doorframe which had led the contestants here. “Go.” The door now slams shut, ensuring the only way out is THROUGH the obstacle course.

“...come on, follow me!” Boba Milk Tea encourages. A birdcage now snaps around her head, ensuring punishment should her pride be the fall to kill her. Melatonin Gummy, like usual though, just… goes. No words. No nothing.

As they were doing the obby, Boba Milk Tea would pause, hearing whimpering behind her. “Oh, Newspaper?” She turned. “This birdcage is tight - and these surfaces feel like they're covered in moss, or something!” He complained. “...stability! :D” Boba Milk Tea would reach out to him. “...HUP!” Newspaper accepted help, and landed it. “Go ahead! C4, need help? :)” Boba Milk Tea asked, moving ahead with Newspaper, gently guiding him.

“Ah, sure? I'm not stable, damnit!” C4 complained. “Oh— SHIT!”

CRUNCH.

THUD.

The birdcage now dangled above the void below the obby which gives passage to the other side.

“...” Boba Milk Tea just.. stared in shock a fee seconds. “...get moving.” Melatonin Gummy jeered. “Get… get moving?? GET MOVING?? SOMEONE JUST DIED AND–” Newspaper was then shushed by Melatonin Gummy. “What is WRONG with you???” Newspaper asked.

“I.. I don't know.” Boba Milk Tea said, now crossing over. “No, you’re… sigh.”

The PA System would crackle. “OH! OH WOW! FINALISTS! Ohhh, it's just as I dreamed!” The Hostess giggled. “All of you! All three! You're all going to be the podium! The olympians! The romans, mongols, and byzantines of this show! Oh!” She clapped. “Here, you all just sleep tight…” unusually, the canned food and water given this time was… higher quality? and… there was a SERVICE button?? “anddd I’ll be ready for the finale! Oh!” She giggled one last time before leaving.

“...service?” Newspaper pressed.

“Oh! You discovered that button!” The Hostess said, returning through the button’s speaker. “What do you want? Go on! Go on!”

“..uhm.. to.. leave?” Newspaper asked. “I want to leave? and.. go home? …please? …no more game? …” Newspaper waited, before a cackle rang through the speaker.

“Oh! You're the FUNNIEST contestant, y’know? Wow! Hoof! You're SO close! It's 3-in-1! It could be YOU who wins!” The Hostess cheered. “...can we have blankets, pillows, earplugs—”

“Sleeping supplies?” The Hostess finished for Melatonin Gummy. “Of course!” The dispensary now gave what Melatonin Gummy asked for. “Thanks. I’m using these to ignore these fucks.” Gummy said.

“Anytime! Call me again for help! =)” The button's speaker crackled one last time as Newspaper curled into a ball…

and sat against the wall. One more time.

END.

The Smileshow was written by TheWiseGuest.

--- .... --..-- / .. / -.- -. --- .-- / .-- . .----. .-.. .-.. / -- . . - / .- --. .- .. -. --..-- / ... --- -- . / ... ..- -. -. -.-- / -.. .- -.-- .-.-.-

#object shows #the smileshow #writing #episode 5 #gorey

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blackrocks-runaway · 3 months ago

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m!a no more pill baby

*she was sleeping on her bed... and then- Pop! No longer pill baby!*

"Huh-? What- happened...? Nevermind..."

*she stretched and checked her phonen making sure-*

*she suddenly felt as if she was falling, them weightless, in a dark void-like space... she blinked and found herself in some sort of tower? There's sweets all around...*

"OhohohHO!~ How interesting!~ You seem... lost!"

*trippy sighed and looked at the strange being in front of her. Yep, that was indeed a living cookie, and a specter of sorts at that*

"... yeah no shit Sherlock. Where am I?"

"LANGUAGE!~ Ah well- welcome to earthbread..."

"Subspace Tripmine, I go by trippy."

"Trip-Trip!~ You aren't a cookie, right? Interesting!~"

"Correct, I am what's called a gear demon, I am specifically a scientist in the field of robotics, but I retired from my position because of some... complications."

"Robotics? How convenient!~ MY name is Shadow Milk Cookie, and as you can probably see, I am stuck as a specter... buuut now that you're here, perhaps you can use that head of yours to create a body for me to possess!~"

"... You must be the beast of decit I heard about from the grapevine... hm, this could be to both of our advantage considering the threat that everyone is facing..."

"Ohhh, you've heard of lil ol' me?~ Wonderful!~ but... what is this "threat" you speak of?"

*one long conversation later...*

"Ah, I see now... this could end up trouble for my grand return to the stage! Oh, woe! However can this assist, I don't wish for my stage to be drab and grey!"

"Hm... what if you make me a disguise? I can transport your soul jam and create a robot for you to possess, if you promise to help..."

"Well well well, I thought you would never ask!~"

*shadow milk conjured up a mask for trippy*

"A mask...?"

"Not just any mask!~ it will transform you into a cookie! Temporarily of course- you'll simply change back when you take it off!~"

"Hm... this will work!"

[Mini-event start! SHENANIGANS WITH DECIT!]

#do you blame yourself? // subspace tripmine ic #silent voices of the knowing // anons #are you proud of me? for what could have been? // lore #shenanigans with decit mini event

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aetheternity · 3 years ago

Text

My wifey, my best friend

Synopsis: Draken knew two things in his life for sure. One, that his best friend was a virgin and two, that he had a thing for his best girl. So he decides to kill two birds with one stone.

Disclaimer: Fem reader, Unprotected sex, kinda not really a threesome, Oral sex (m recieving), and voyeurism are all present in this. (Minors dni)

It wasn’t hard to see. Draken’s girl had always been a sight for every man’s eyes. Even before they’d gotten together. She got attention for the way she presented herself, her face, her body and overall just how chill of a person she was. Because while she looked mean (and honestly she could be at times). She was always ready to defend anyone in her squad.

And very often that meant Mikey. Which Draken had always been thankful for seeing as once he had the help he didn’t know how he’d done it by himself for so long. But he didn’t miss how much quicker his girlfriend got violent when it came to Mikey and vise versa. Didn't miss the prolonged smiling between them or the way they were somehow always touching.

Didn’t matter how much she’d deny it when he’d call her out. Her eye roll adorable despite the clear deception behind her words. The flush of her cheeks, dilated pupils and nervous laughter all giving her away. She wasn’t just into Draken.

She was into Mikey too. She just didn’t seem to see what he saw.

At first it had been a bit of a sore subject filling his brain. His girl and his friend had the same feelings for each other? Well he knew you wouldn’t cheat on him, you’d always been such a sappy romantic. Crying over love stories you’d read online and forcing him to watch movies that were far too long for just a stupid kiss at the end.

And he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Mikey wasn’t a concern. But every time he saw you two together it seemed as though you’d gotten even closer than the last time. Which eventually became the basis for a plan.

“Hey.” Draken’s braid hung down the back of your couch as he called to you where you stood in the kitchen filling a big bowl with an assortment of chips and popcorn.

“Hey.” You mimic his deep voice with a giggle coming over and setting the bowl in his lap.

“Did you have fun with Mikey today?” He asked pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

“Yup. Me, Mikey, and Emma had a lovely day out today.” You tossed a kernel of popcorn into your mouth with a snicker.

“Don’t be like that. You know I’m not asking because I'm jealous.” His hair tickled the side of your face as he leaned in closer brushing stray strands of hair back from your cheeks.

“No no, I know Ken Ken.”

His breath flushed over your cheeks and nose when you met his eyes. You brushed your fingertips up the side of his head to trace his tattoo. His hands meeting your waist, fingers threading over the small of your back while he kissed you. And you returned the affection with every bit of eagerness that flooded your body.

“What do you have going on Saturday?” He asked as he pulled away

Your smile was warm, eyes practically twinkling as you said, “I don’t know whatever you’re doing I guess.”

“You, me, Mikey, Mario Kart.” He suggests

“That sounds so fun.” You place a kernel of popcorn on his tongue before turning to flip on the movie pulled up on the DVD player.

“What is this?” Draken grumbled over the snack in his mouth. His demeanor quickly shifting.

“I told you I was finally gonna show you The Notebook tonight.” You replied and Draken resisted his urge to groan as you cuddled up to his side fishing a couple chips out of the bowl still in his lap.

~~~~

Saturday morning Draken had arrived at your house at eleven am. He’d set everything up. You thought Mikey was coming at one but Draken had told him eleven knowing that he probably wouldn’t actually get there till twelve.

He’d helped you carry the bulky consoles and teased you all morning just so he could get you here. Right now at 11:45 am, your ass pressed between his bare thighs, socked feet tickling his bare knees, with your panties hanging off one foot as you worked your body up and down his length. The steady claps of your skin meeting creating a beautiful noise that bounced off the drab paint job in your living room.

His name left your lips with a chorus of pleas. Pleas for his attention to your clit. Pleas for his thrusts to be harder. All greedy and messy while you gripped his shoulders tight for some form of stability.

“Come on Darling, you can do it.” He replies thickly, the fingers he has sinking into the smooth flesh of your back hurt but the tighter it gets the more he’s enjoying it. “You’re doing so well.” He groans

He slips a hand under your tee shirt looking for a better angle. His thighs spread and just for a couple seconds he indulges his good girl a little more. Feeds into your anxious cries as you whine about needing your orgasm so bad. Cock brushing against your cervix while you greedily weep for more.

“Take it then.” He tells you breathily, head tilted back to show off the bob of his adam’s apple. His groans a little deeper as you work him up so close. Cunt squeezing so perfectly around him. Strands of his hair stuck to his forehead from the accumulation of sweat. “I want you to make yourself cum, Darling.”

Your fingers twist into his shirt at every slam of his hips. Wandering hands drifting up to cup your breasts through your bra before coming back down to your hips.

You clearly can’t hear it. Too lost in bliss but the subtle click of the door opening and closing isn’t lost on Draken at all. He never stops feeding you his cock though. Not as the taps of footsteps get louder, not as the pounding in his chest gets a little harder and not even when Mikey is standing right in front of the two of you.

“Name, Ken ch-”

Mikey freezes and your eyes fly open thrashing around to grab the blanket at the end of the couch to cover your lower half. “Oh my god Mikey!” Mikey stays quiet though his eyes grow dark, lips parted as he stares at the two of you. “Mikey, I thought you weren’t coming till one..” You huff, hand over your forehead and eyelids as you clutch the blanket a little tighter with one hand.

“Are you saying you’re upset that he’s here early?” Two sets of eyes fall on Draken. He has yet to let go of your hips as you sit in his lap still fully seated on his dick with his best friend standing only a couple feet away.

“Not this again Ken..” Your words drift away as the palm of his thumb slips beneath the blanket to slide smoothly over your swollen clit. Surprisingly Mikey doesn’t make a move to leave. Feet seemingly stuck in their current position.

He leans toward your ear though it's still loud enough for Mikey to hear. “Are you trying to tell me you didn’t squeeze my cock when Mikey walked in? Are you saying you don't like his eyes on you while I make you a mess?”

“Wha.. Ke-” A breathy gasp leaves your lips.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mikey finally finds his voice though it lacks the malice he usual manages to possess.

"You might as well stay while we finish. She's almost done."

Draken spreads your thighs with one arm pulling one of your ankles up till it’s resting partially against his shoulder and partially against the back of the couch. Slowly but surely the blanket begins to slip off your lower half exposing you slightly to Mikey. With your other leg resting against his; he thrust into you so deep that it creates a noticeable bulge in your stomach for just a split second.

A couple whimpers flutter off your lips and you try to slightly steady yourself as Draken guides his length into you without even the slightest hesitation. The couch shudders with loud creaks as if it's protesting the rough pace Draken has set never taking his eyes off a still shocked Mikey.

"Have you ever thought of fucking her like this?" Draken asks his voice husky and thick over your moans.

You're almost unabashed in the way you look over to Mikey with tears welling against the corners of your eyes. Thigh tensing with every rough pound of Draken's hips.

"K-ken.." You try only to gasp. It makes Mikey's hand fly to his tee shirt trying his best to cover what was so obviously growing right before you and Draken's eyes.

"I want to watch as Mikey fucks you." Draken finally admits. "Would you want that darling? Want Mikey to pound your pretty pussy like I always do?"

"Mm close.." You cry, lips trembling and wet as you throw your head back. Your fingers twist in Draken's shirt, leg twitching awkwardly by his head.

Mikey's lips hang open. His breathing raspy as your whole body tremors. You lean forward in Draken's grasp pushing him even deeper inside you as you cry over and over, "M' cumming K-ken.."

Draken lets his head fall back against the couch as you milk him while you're trapped in your own euphoria. His dick twitching through the intense groans you pull from his chest. When he's finished he places a gentle hand on your stomach.

"Will you take care of Mikey now?" He lifts your body off of him, placing you next to him.

"You want me to fuck your girlfriend? Have you lost it?" Mikey asks, cheeks stained a bright pink.

"Yeah, I'm giving you permission to show, Name a good time while I watch."

Mikey looks over to you. Slowly but surely you extend your hand to him looking at Draken for any bit of hesitation on his part. He hesitants and then his sandals are clicking against the hardwood as Draken motions for him to get between your legs. Mikey's eyes wide with attention as he stares down at you, hands stiff at his sides.

You look to Draken again who's pulled off his shirt by this point; laying back against the couch to rub his softened cock back to life. "Kiss him." Draken nods to Mikey who's basically stone at this point.

"C-can I?" You sit up pressing your hands to his cheeks immediately delighted by the strands of hair delicately brushing against the knuckles of your fingers.

When you lean into him, he presses forward. Hands reaching for the back of the couch for support. His lips are cold. Not at all what you'd thought they'd be. Hesitant, a little shaky and over all cute.

You couldn't help but trace the shape with your tongue. They were smaller than Draken's that part was obvious and more gentle too as though he was scared he could hurt you from just a small kiss. When you pushed him a little further coaxing his lips apart he conceded for you. With a heavy breath he slid one hand down to your face, Adam's apple bobbing where you could see it through your peripherals.

When your tongue slid into his mouth he took a deep breath cautious as you prodded forward with your tongue. And just as soon you were pulling away.

Draken added pressure to his tip with his thumb before sliding his hand back down his shaft in a smooth motion. "Take her shirt off." He instructed

Not only were Mikey's lips cold but his fingertips were also slightly cold as they slipped under your shirt with shaky hands. When you reached for Mikey's shirt Draken tsked,

"Be careful with him. He's still a virgin."

Mikey gritted his teeth in Draken's direction but ultimately said nothing. Weirdly enough that information broke the tension still present in your shoulders.

"Aw Mikey that's ok." He raised his arms as you slipped his dark blue shirt over his elbows, allowing it to join your already discarded clothes in the growing pile.

Though a part of you was slightly curious about whether or not it was by his own choice. With a bit more confidence now you slid your back up the couch a bit pulling Mikey in by the hem of his shorts. Without a second thought you reached behind your back to discard your bra bringing Mikey's free hands up to massage your breasts.

The little gasp he let out was so endearing, eyes clouded with tenderness and lust. Draken snickered at his end of the couch, "How's it feel to touch boobs for the first time?"

"Shut up." Mikey grunted

With your guidance he gingerly twisted and pulled at your taut nipples earning a sweet gasp as a reward. Meanwhile your hands curved up and down his physique, enamored by the touch his abs had just beneath your finger tips. So rough yet smooth and soft as they expanded and contracted for each of his breaths.

Not wanting to waste a second more you gestured to the band of Mikey's shorts, "Is this ok?" And once he nodded you pulled the string loose letting them fall to the ground with his boxers soon following.

Unsurprisingly he was smaller than Draken but he was thicker than you'd imagined. Pretty in both size and color with a much more rounded tip than Draken.

You looked up to Mikey's face. His attention elsewhere as you wrapped a warm hand around the base of his cock. "It's so pretty." You mumbled with a giggle when that gorgeous pink took full color against his cheeks. "I want to put it in my mouth. Can I?"

The bob of Mikey's Adam's apple didn't go unnoticed by you. The way sweat was already starting to appear on his forehead making you smile as he silently moved his hips closer to your mouth.

The hiss that slipped past his lips when you pressed your tongue to his tip and circled it gathering the precum sliding down was precious. And it dawned on you as if you hadn't remembered before that this was Mikey's first blow job.

The famous Mikey was getting his first right here and now. It pushed you further, you left wet open mouthed kisses all over his shaft before letting every sweet inch of him into your mouth. Delicately and steadily over his shaft till you were kissing his pelvic bone.

Never in all the years you had known Mikey had you ever seen him be so cute. His mouth was open for every panting breath he could muster trying and failing to catch his breath. His cheeks an even deeper pink than before and his eyes shut impossibly tight.

He reached out for the back of the sofa as you slowly pulled your mouth back before edging him all the way down your throat again.

"Oh God.." He choked out

Draken's laugh was boisterous the hand that was on his cock now slapped over his mouth as he tried to contain himself. "Darling you can't see from this angle but his face is perfect." He grins

You know it's bad when the only response Mikey gives to this is a loud gasp. His nails digging into the cushions behind you with a heavy grunt.

Draken leaned forward twisting his fingers into your hair gently to guide your head back and forth a little faster. "You look gorgeous, keep going."

Mikey's whimpers fill your ears and spit trickles over your lips. Your tongue swirling over the prominent veins at the base of his cock as you work him up with just your mouth. Curses flying off his lips at an exponentially higher rate.

"Doesn't she have such an amazing mouth?" Draken groaned hand resuming its earlier work.

Mikey could only hum lost in bliss with each thrust of his hips. He managed to angle himself deeper down your throat, reaching out to card strands of your hair back as well as he pushes his cock as far as it could go.

"Shit.. sh-it I think I'm gonna.."

Draken pulled your lips off surprisingly harshly. Fingers still deep in your hair as he guided your thighs open for Mikey. Cum from Draken's earlier orgasm still stained your thighs as Draken pushed Mikey forward by the small of his back.

The angle was kind of weird, especially for a first time but it did help Mikey align better and slowly but surely he was pushing inside. The fill of his cock pressing inside of you left you feeling a bit dazed and your eyes fluttered close. Nails finding purchase on his shoulder blades.

His forehead soon met yours, hitched breaths from his lips flush against your face. "Shit.." He heaved almost breathless.

"Yeah she'll do that to you." Draken grinned. You couldn't tell if it was your heartbeat or his pounding in your ear but you soon regained enough consciousness to wrap your legs around his waist.

"You ok?" He asked, eyelids fluttering open.

"Yeah. Feels good." You reply with a concentrated breath.

Mikey's hand slammed down against the couch cushion as he slowly began to move sucked in by your warm cunt. Every inch of his dick snug inside you. In a way that was so different from the earlier feeling of your mouth.

"Mikey.." You huffed trying not to lose it completely whenever he bottomed out. He wasn't long enough to touch your cervix but every inch of him was so obviously present inside you. Grazing your walls like they were built just for his cock.

"Angle your hips to the right a little." You could hear Draken's voice. All deep and husky like it always got when he was in the mood.

Mikey did as he was told, adjusting his hips till his dick perfectly pressed into your g-spot. You couldn't help it now your head falling back and your thighs shaking when he thrusted right into that spot.

"God.. f-uck.." Mikey grunted

"You're doing so well.." You mewled brushing his blond hair back where it was starting to stick to his face. "It feels.. s'good.."

Your thighs tensed as he started to speed up a tremble setting in his shoulders. You already knew what that meant. Bringing a hand under his chin to pull his lips into yours. The sounds of both Mikey and Draken settling in your ears as you felt the beginnings of the coil tightening in your stomach.

"Mm gonna cum.." Mikey moaned

The feeling of his cock twitching inside of you had you gripping him like a lifeline and he did the same. His arms wrapped around your waist as he emptied himself inside your fluttering walls.

"Oh God.." You sighed

His body continued to tremble, eyes far gone as you held his face to look at him. "You ok?" You giggled, still attempting to catch your breath.

"Draken was right about your pussy." Mikey grins

"Oh my God you told the guys?!" You pick up a pillow next to you chucking it at your boyfriend.

"I only told Mikey that part." Draken replies catching the flying projectile. "Hurry up and finish. This shits getting painful."

"Finish?" You're cut off by Mikey slowly pressing all the way back inside you. "You didn't get to cum." He whispers into your ear. His knee slides onto the couch next to you, guiding your hips against his cock.

Your head banging against the cushions behind you with each of his rough thrusts. Breaths short where they're falling off your lips. You don't miss the way Mikey's eyes clench shut, the way his teeth ungrit trying and failing to keep his noises quiet.

Your once messy and now unruly and missmanaged hair slips from the tie you'd once used to hold it. Strands falling over your face and into your eyes and collecting with the sweat present on every inch of your face.

Draken's groan came from the pits of his throat as he squeezed the tip of his cock in his fist. "I'm gonna cum." He warned, warmth spread through your stomach as you watched the tensing of his body soon followed by his thick cum shooting up only to return to earth. Coating his fists in liquid.

His dark eyes shut as he breathed through his orgasm with a deep sigh.

You cursed under your breath issuing your own word of warning as your thighs clenched around Mikey's waist. "Don't stop.." You pleaded, hands heavy on Mikey's shoulders as you pulled his body closer.

"I won't."

The coil in your stomach soon settled as your release coated Mikey's pelvic region slicking his cock as you cried out. A sense of familiarity soon falling over you as you watched the same build of intensity forming in Mikey.

The roll of Mikey's eyes utterly intoxicating as his hips stuttered forward with a breathy moan for the first bit of his orgasm. Sweat trickled down his forehead, his own hair a complete mess as he released deep inside of you completely losing control of his hips.

"Fuck Mikey.."

Mikey finally pulled out leaving his cum to ooze out of your used pussy as Draken stood from the end of the couch, heading for the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" You asked

"We need chips right? For Mario kart?" Draken called

"Yay we're still playing!" Mikey bounces like he's not still completely naked and didn't just finish fucking you.

"Of course we're still playing. That was the whole point of today." Draken replies

"You don't want to shower first?" You gesture to his cum covered chest and thighs.

"Like all together?" Mikey asks

"Nevermind let's just play."

#tokyo revengers smut #mikey x reader smut #draken x reader smut #draken smut #mikey smut #draken x reader x mikey

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viking-raider · 4 years ago

Text

Southern Generation - Part VII

Summary: Some big things happen between Sy and Lily, before they had back home to Celina, where they build a nest for their growing family.

Pairing: Captain Syverson/OFC

Word Count: 11,617

Warning: M - Language, Fluff, Angst, Smut - intercourse and sorta exhibitionism and mention of bodily fluids, Domestic bliss, Traditions - new and old

Inspiration: Sy and the hunk of man he is!

Author's Note: Much love to @wondersofdreaming for being a stand up beta and friend.

Tag List Blog: @viking-raider-taglist

“Where have the two of you been?” Lily asked, coming down the stairs as Sy and her grandfather came out of his study.

“Just having a chat.” Sy smiled up at her.

“Lily, I have something I need to say to you.” Davis said, looking up at his granddaughter.

“Yeah, you know what, I have something I need to say to you too.” Lily replied, planting her hands on her hips.

“Oh, lord.” Sy mumbled under his breath, knowing the look of this stance, and cleared his throat.

“All right.” Davis nodded, biting his lip. “You can go first, then.” He told her, motioning with his hand.

“Good.” Lily nodded back. “I don't appreciate the way you've been treating me since we arrived this morning. I understand that I hurt you by running off like I did, but Sy is right. I didn't have to tell you I was going or why I was going.” She told him, firmly. “I know that you were hurt and worried about me, because of the past trauma of what happened with my parents and my birth, but this and we-” She motioned between herself and Sy.

“Are not my parents and that situation, and you need not to treat it like it is.”

Davis bit his lip and looked at the dark and scuffed wood of the hallway floor, trying to hold back the smile that wanted to pull across his lips. Lily's fire reminded him so much of himself, and in a way, of his Daisy.

“You're right, Lily.” He finally spoke, looking up at her, taking a deep breath.

“I have been a down right jerk to you and Austin, and I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me for it. I love you so very much, Lily. You are my granddaughter. You are the only thing of my precious daughter I have left and I don't want to lose that, or you. Let alone the beautiful great-grandbaby you have growing inside of you.”

Lily pressed her lips together, her bottom one quivering as her eyes shined with building tears. “I do forgive you.” She blubbered, sniffling at him.

Davis opened his arms to her and Lily rushed into them, colliding with his chest. He smiled and squeezed his arms around her, burying his face in her hair, trying to hold back his own tears. Sy stood beside them, grinning that the two of them had reconciled their differences and became close again, truly hoping that it remained that way.

“Dave?”

Letting out a disappointed huff, he let Lily go and turned towards the sound of his name, finding one of his work hands standing in the open doorway. “What is it?” He asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Mac thinks he found a way to save the York tree.” The hand replied, sheepish eyes darting between the three of them.

Davis looked down at Lily, a tinge of sadness in his eyes.

“I'll see you at dinner.” Lily told him, giving his hand a squeeze and gave him a reassuring look.

He smiled at her, kissing her temple, then followed his worker out the door. Lily turned to Sy and wrapped her arms around his waist, sighed into his chest, a mile-wide smile on her face as she thought about the good vibe she had after what had just transpired with her grandfather. Sy smiled and hugged her back, rubbing his palms up and down her back and resting his chin on top of her head, content and happy.

“Thank you.” She said as they entered her bedroom.

“For what?” He frowned, sitting down on her bed.

“All of this probably wouldn't have happened, if it wasn't for you.” She told him, motioning around her room. “I still would have been cowering at the house in Celina. Too afraid of my own shadow, let alone the outside world. You've given me strength and hope again.” She stood in front of him and cupped his face in her hands, tilting his head back to look up at her.

“Thank you, Austin Syverson.” She whispered, kissing him, softly.

Sy wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap, nuzzling his face into her neck. “It was all you, Angel.” He cooed, his breath warm against her skin. “I just drove you here.” He told her, rubbing his nose against the spot just below her ear.

Lily narrowed her eyes. “You and my grandfather talked about me, didn't you?” She asked, connecting the dots.

“Whatever gave you that idea, sweet lips?” He asked, grinning into her jaw.

“The two of you holed up in his office for forty-five minutes.”

“Oh now, darling.” Sy chuckled, pressing his lips to her jawbone. “My dearest, sweetest, love.”

“Wyatt.”

“Listen to that tone.” Sy exclaimed, rocking back and looking at her. “That's the tone. You sound like such a mama already.” He grinned at her, licking his lips.

“It's so hot.”

“You're turned on by that?”

“Watching your tummy steadily round out with my babe inside of you; knowing my seed filled you like a water balloon.” His smirk turned into something far more sultry as he stared her clothed belly, like he was entranced by a snake charmer. “Thinking about having kids with you, about our kids and you being pregnant with them, is just so fucking sexy and alluring to me.”

“Lord, oh lordy.” Lily chuckled, shaking her head at him.

“I've always wanted a lot of kids.” He blurted out, semi-coming out of his trance. “I know what it's like to be an only child, and it sucks.”

“I know what it feels like too.” Lily agreed, biting her lip. “But, I never thought about having kids. I never thought I'd have kids.”

Sy frowned at her. “Why?”

“Jak doesn't like kids.” She mumbled, glancing down at her lap.

“Ah.” He nodded, understanding. “I love kids.” He smiled at her, softly.

“How many do you want?” Lily asked, tilting her head at him.

“Let's see how many the good Lord gives us.” He replied, gently kissing the corner of her mouth. “There's no rush.” He whispered, resting his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes, enjoying a quiet moment with her, before they were called down to a dinner of Lily's favorite honey-lemon glazed salmon and asparagus.

“They're sleeping in the same room?” Davis asked, watching Lily and Sy go into her room, after they all said good night to each other.

“Davis, they already have a little one on the way. What are they going to do, make a second one on top of it?” Violet chuckled, shaking her head at her husband, then rolled into their master bedroom.

Sy stepped out onto the front pouch with a cup of coffee in hand, a grin instantly touching his face as he saw Lily on the lawn with Aika. She was wearing a knee length, cotton sundress with a floral design that accentuated her baby bump, the skirt billowing around her thighs in the warm morning breeze, ruffling her shoulder length hair and carrying her laughter back to him on the porch as her and the German Shepard played around on the lush green grass together. He cradled his cup in both hands and leaned on the porch railing to continue watching.

“You watch her, like you're watching through the gates of heaven.” Violet's voice said behind him.

“That's because I am.” Sy replied, not moving or looking away from Lily. “She's my slice of heaven on earth.” He said, eyes brightening as Lily turned and noticed him, smiling at him, and smiled back at her.

“Penny for your thoughts, Bear?” Lily asked, coming up to the porch with Aika.

“A penny is too poor for the thoughts I'm having, Angel.” He replied, grinning at her and pushing off the porch railing.

“I'm going to take my nap.” She said, standing beside him an intense exhaustion washing over her.

“All right.” Sy nodded, brushing the back of his knuckles across her cheek, before leaning in to gently kiss her. “I'll come lay with you.” He whispered, following her inside and upstairs to her room, setting his coffee cup on the table in her room, toed out of his boots and crawled into bed with her; Aika jumping onto the foot of the bed with them.

“Hm, Austin.” Lily whimpered, wiggling, as his hand found its way to her breast and cupped it in his palm, gently squeezing it.

“Does it hurt?” He asked, picking up his head to look down at her, concerned.

“No.” She sighed back, brow ceased. “But, you've been awfully attached to them lately.”

“They're bigger.” He grinned, laying his head back down.

“I'm pregnant with your kid.” She retorted with a snort. “They're prepping to start lactating, so I can start breastfeeding that caveman sized appetite they're going to no doubt have.”

“Both of us.”

“Uh-oh no!” Lily hooted, shaking her head and rolling over onto her back to look at his face. “You are not!”

“Why not?” Sy grinned at her, devilishly licking his lips. “Milk's good for you. Especially breast milk.”

Lily slapped both of her palms to her face, grinning and blushing wildly. “You are so weird.” She giggled, shyly.

“Am I weird, or are you just a sweet sheltered, little, home-schooled girl?” Sy teased back, pressing his hand to her thigh.

Lily looked at him, eyes holding a message that told him she wasn't as amused by his statement as she was, causing Sy to freeze his hand from it's adventure up inside her skirt.

“I'm sorry, babe.” He whispered, biting his lip. “That was too far and not what I meant.” He sighed, kissing her cheek. “I'll let you sleep.” He said, wrapping her up in his arms, feeling like a complete idiot.

But, once Lily was asleep he got up, tiptoeing around the room, before stepping out.

“Is everything all right, Austin?” Violet asked, as she encountered him in the hallway, pulling on his jacket and holding his truck keys.

“Yeah, I just need to go into town.” He replied, giving her a smile and headed out to the truck.

Driving into town, Sy found their store and ran inside, finding everything inside that he had come for, hoping that when Lily woke up from her nap that it would help cheer her up and show her that he was sorry for making such a narrow-minded and dumb-ass comment about how she was raised. He was driving back to the Warren's, when he was stopped at a red light and something caught the attention of his peripheral vision. He stared at it so long, he missed the light changing and the cars behind him started honking and screaming out their windows at him.

“Fuck.” He snapped, stepping on the gas and spinning the steering wheel sharply into a U-Turn, an illegal one at that, but Sy didn't care, as he pulled into the parking lot of the store that had absorbed his attention.

“Sy?” Lily whimpered, sitting up in bed, after not feeling the warmth of his body behind her, and got out of bed in search of him. “Austin.” She called, peeking into the bathroom, but found nothing, before she went downstairs.

“Oh, miss. I was told to give this to you, when you woke up.” the servant said, handing her a note.

“Thanks, Mina.” She replied, taking the note and unfolding it, recognizing Sy's handwriting.

Lily, meet me under your favorite apple tree. - Sy.

“How does he know my favorite apple tree?” Lily frowned at the note, shaking her head, but tucked the note away and went outside.

Lily went out into the northwest orchard of the farm, to where her favorite apple tree was deep in the center of that grove of trees. She remembered going out there often as a girl, especially on cool summer nights, to read by the glow of fireflies or the moon, or if neither of them were out, she would sneak an old oil lamp out of the work barn and take it out to the tree, and read by.

She wondered what Sy wanted with it.

When she was a few yards away from the tree, she noticed a difference amongst the fallen apples and leaves that blanketed the ground, there were oddly shaped, cherry-red leaves. She stopped and examined them, when she realized they weren't leaves at all. They were rose petals. Leading up to her apple tree, that she continued to approach, finding Sy standing beneath it.

“What is this, Austin?” She asked, shaking her head, and motioning to the blue gingham picnic blanket he had laid under the apple tree; the gold plaque staked among its roots told the reader it was a Rall's Genet apple tree, the first planted on the Warren farm, in 1785, by Ambrose Cecil Warren.

“I was an ass.” Sy replied, taking a deep breath and biting his lip. “When you were falling asleep for your nap, and it wasn't right of me, or nice of me, to say what I said to you. I'm so sorry I said it.”

“So, this is my peace offering.” He told her, motioning to the items on the blanket.

Lily chuckled, stepping closer, and seeing her favorite Ben and Jerry's, Brownie Batter Core ice cream, a bag of pretzels, Cherry Punch, Sweet Tart ropes and two bottles of Voss water. “You really didn't have too.” She said, looking up at him, touched at his attempt anyway.

“You know that?”

“Be it as it may, I still want to make it up to you.” He replied, taking her hand and helped her sit down on the blanket, then joined her. “The ice cream might be a little melted. But, I know how much you love it that way.” He chuckled, pulling off the lid to the pint sized container.

“You know me so well.” Lily giggled, taking the white plastic spoon and the pint of ice cream from him. “So, how did you find out this was my tree?” She asked, spooning a mouthful of ice cream into her mouth.

“I remember you telling me about a specific tree on the property.” Sy replied, picking up a bag of shelled, sunflower seeds that he loved to snack on. “I also asked your grandmother.” He grinned, slyly.

“Smooth, Syverson. Smooth.” She chuckled, shaking her head at him.

It was serene and lazy as they sat on the blanket, enjoying their treats.

But, Lily put the lid back on her half-eaten ice cream and turned, laying back to put her head in Sy's lap, closing her eyes to the sound of the breeze rustling through the grass and tree branches over their heads, the chirp of grasshoppers and crickets, the birds singing and twittering, as they nested or flew and their wings fluttered through the warm and humid air. She sighed and smiled softly, her hand resting on her belly. Sy looked down at her and smiled too, ghosting his fingers through her bangs and against her forehead, he loved the soft and peaceful expression on her face and how relaxed her body was, obviously enjoying the tranquility around them, as was he.

He tipped his head back, seeing the little Blue Jay sitting on the branch above them, singing its little heart out and smiled at it, then glanced back down at Lily, his smile growing a little brighter. Lily stirred, not realizing she had dozed off a little bit, until she had felt Sy touch the hand she had on her belly, but he just smiled at her, a strange sparkle in his blue eyes.

“I love you, Lily.” He whispered to her, stroking the top of her hand. “I've loved you for such a very long time.” He told her, biting the corner of his lip “My sweet Angel.”

He grinned, brushing his finger down the bridge of her nose and over her lips, tracing her brows and gently touching her cheek. “There's no one in the world I want to be with. No one I want to bear and battle the world with, other than you, Lily Ana.” He told her, stroking her hair, the tip of his finger following the shell of her ear.

“You've become the purest love of my life and my Battle Buddy.” He told her and curved his hand around hers, lifting it from her belly and to her face.

Lily's face grew slack, her mouth dropping open and her eyes wide as he showed her what was on her hand, what he had put on her finger. “Sy!” She snapped, sitting up. “Wyatt.” She gulped and licked her lips, shocked, and looked at him.

“Austin.” She whimpered, her voice cracking as she stared at the ring on her finger.

“Will you marry me, Lily Ana?” Sy asked her properly, fidgeting nervously, scared out of his wits that Lily would turn him down, and her no would be worse than a gunshot wound to the heart.

It had been an utter impulse that he had been sucked into the sight of that jewelry store on the way back after going to the store, for the ice cream and candy.

At first, he had only meant to look at the engagement rings, but as soon as he saw the one he had just slipped onto her finger, it was like someone had stepped into Sy's body, pointing it out to the jeweler and pulling out his bank card to pay for it; watching him put it in the black velvet box and hold it out to him was surreal. It felt heavy in his pocket as he walked back out to the truck, but not heavy with the regret that he had fallen into the impulse to buy the ring, but heavy with hope that he would find the courage to present it to Lily and she would say yes, heavy with worry that Lily would reject his proposal.

“Yes!” Lily answered a split second later.

“Really!” He snapped back, shocked, but completely delighted.

“Yes, Austin.” She laughed at him. “Yes, yes, yes! I will marry you, you silly Bear!”

“Oh, thank fuck.” Sy let out in a huff, catching her up in his arms. “I am so glad you said yes. I was afraid you would say no.” He said against her cheek.

Lily smiled into his neck. “I would never.” She chuckled, hugging her arms around him. “Not in a million years.” She whispered, kissing his cheek.

“I know it's not much.” He said, touching the round, one-fourth carat diamond setting with his thumb.

“It doesn't have to be, Sy.” She told him, shaking her head. “You are enough.”

Sy smiled at her, cupping the back of her head and pulled her into a deep and tender kiss. Lily melted into him, slowly shifting into his lap and gripping his shoulders, rubbing down on him. Sy smirked into their kiss, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressed them flush together.

“Lily.” He panted against her lips, his eyes dark and teasing.

“I need you so bad now.” She giggled, blushing and shy.

Sy's laugh rang out in the air, grinning. “Let's go back then.”

“I am not having sex in the same house my grandparents are in.” Lily protested, squeezing her knees to the outside of his hips. “That is a big double O negative, Captain Syverson.”

“Is there somewhere else we could go?”

“There's two places, the work barn and the garage, and both are busy this time of day.” She replied, pressing her lips to his throat, impatient and horny; a side effects of her pregnancy.

“All right then.” Sy chuckled.

He lifted her dress just enough to obstruct his access, then pulled open his belt and the button of his jeans, pushing down his zipper and lifted his hips enough to wiggle his jeans and boxers down his thighs to free his hardening cock.

“Your panties.” He huffed, annoyed that the thin material was in their way. “No!” He growled, as she started to push herself up onto her feet to slip her underwear off.

“We can't have sex with them on.” Lily groaned back, impatiently.

“We're not.” He scoffed, fingers curling around the band of her panties and with a loud rip, tore them off of her. “Problem solved, Princess.” He grinned at her, his face dark with desire.

Lily smirked back at him, rubbing against him and spreading her slick juices all over his manhood, making Sy's eyes roll in the back of his head, hands gripping her hips through the fabric of her sundress. Lily reached underneath the skirt of her dress and wrapped her fingers around the hot skin of his hard member, feeling the throb of the thick vein beneath it pulse against her fingers as she stroked him, thin beads of pre-cum coating his shaft and her fingers, making her grasp him firmer.

“Oh, Angel.” Sy panted, licking his lips and resting his head back against the rough bark of the ancient apple tree.

“Not bad for a girl that was sheltered and home-schooled, huh?” She huffed at him, swiping her thumb over the purplish tip of his head and brought it up to her mouth and licked off his juices.

Sy grinned at her though half lidded eyes. “Not at all, Angel. Not at all.” He cooed, then hissed when she wrapped her hand around him again and squeezed, rubbing his weeping tip against her dripping pussy.

“You're teasing me, Lily.”

“Am I?” She purred back, her voice deep and sultry, grinning at him.

“Is this you getting even with me?”

“It's possible.” Lily chuckled, just slipping his tip into her core for a moment, before pulling it out again.

“Oh, Lily Ana.” Sy laughed, his voice a little hoarse, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “You little minx.”

Lily laughed at him. “Coming from the man that would fuck me in any position and place he would, and probably thought he could, in.” She retorted, lifting a brow at him, finally letting his cock enter the canal of her core, sitting in his bare lap.

“All better, Bear?” She cooed at him, pressing her hands to his chest and leaned into him, kissing him.

“I feel like I've corrupted you.” He chuckled against her mouth, rubbing his palms up and down her back, letting her set whatever pace she wanted.

“It's possible.” She replied and gently rolled her hips, taking a deep breath and let it out in a soft moan.

Lily pressed her sweaty forehead against Sy's, wanting to be closer to him, needing to breathe the same air as him, one of her hands slipping behind his head, fingers carding through the short, damp curls at the nape of his neck. Sy held her eyes and bent his knees up a little bit, giving her a little bit of support and shifting his cock inside of her, making her grunt out a delicious moan.

“You always sound so sweet with my cock inside of you.” Sy cooed at her, brushing her wind swept hair out of her face and behind her ears. “My delicious little flower.”

Lily chuckled at him, smirking. “You're a sap.” She huffed, tightening her walls around him, causing him to growl deep in his throat. “You do feel so fucking good though, Bear.” She sighed, licking her lips and bouncing in his lap a little bit faster, while still keeping herself tight around him.

“Lily, I'm gonna come.” Sy grunted, gasping and panting.

He felt the tell-tale tingle in his sack and the pit of his stomach, the way his cock swelled and throbbed against her already taut walls, the wet sounds from their coupling adding to the music of crickets, grasshoppers and birds in the hum of hot and humid air blanketing them, sweat pouring off of them, making almost every inch of their clothing stick and cling to their drenched skin, soaking the fabric. Sy grabbed Lily's hips and thrust up into her, burying himself as deeply as either of their body's would allow him to, his body stiffening as he pumped ribbon after ribbon of hot come into her, the muscles of his stomach spasming with each load.

“Ah, Austin.” Lily cried out, slipping a hand underneath her dress to rub at her clit, giving herself that last bit of stimulation to come, squeezing down on Sy's cock even harder, making him grunt and growl, the muscles in his neck tensing and his face twisting as she milked even more out of him.

“Fuck!” He barked out, breathing between clenched teeth. “Lily!”

Recovering enough, Lily collapsed on top of Sy's chest, listening to his heart thunder in her ear and the soft wheeze to his breathing as it slowly calmed down. Sy sluggishly wrapped his heavy arms around her, turning his red and sweaty face into her damp hair, while Lily watched the diamond on the engagement ring sparkled in the sun, a soft and content smile on her face. So many things were happening that she had given up on; seeing her grandparents again, finding a good and reliable guy, getting married and starting a family. It might all be a bit out of sync, but Lily didn't care, it was still happening and it was happening with Sy.

“Lily?” Sy frowned, alarmed by the painful sounding whimper she suddenly let out and felt her stomach tighten. “What is it?” He asked, sitting up with her.

Lily didn't reply for a moment, instead she reached out and gently cupped his face in her hand, while taking a few deep breaths until the discomfort in her stomach passed. “It's fine, Bear.” She told him, stretching her back. “Just Braxton Hicks. It's perfectly normal at this point.” She sighed.

“Especially after sex.” She assured him, caressing his face with her thumb.

“You're sure?”

“I am.” She nodded, smiling at him. “It's if they last more than two minutes, that we need to worry. But, it was barely thirty seconds.”

Sy nodded at her, but he was only slightly pacified. “I should get you back inside. It's boiling out here.” He said, getting up and pulled her up onto her feet, Sy corrected his jeans, before collecting their picnic stuff, jamming her torn panties into his front pocket and headed back into the house with her.

“Where have the two of you been?” Davis asked as Lily and Sy entered the house.

“We had a little picnic in the orchard.” Lily smiled up at Sy. “Mr. Romantic that Sy is.” She teased him.

“Is that what I think is it?” Violet asked, rolling into the hallway.

Lily froze for a moment, feeling the slickness of her and Sy's love making slowly creeping down the inside of her thigh and felt her heart start to pound, fearing it had become noticeable to her grandmother. But relaxed, when Violet lifted a frail and bony finger, pointing at the ring on her hand instead.

“Uh..” Lily and Sy instantly blushed, grinning like a pair of caught teenagers. “Yeah, it is.”

“You proposed.” Violet grinned at Sy, elated.

“I did.” He smiled, wrapping an arm around Lily's waist, feeling gratified. “It seemed right.” He said, looking into Lily's eyes, softly.

“So, when are you officially tying the knot?” Violet asked, looking between them.

“I don't know.” Lily replied, her eyes still on Sy. “We haven't discussed that yet.”

“We'll get around to talking about it.” Sy nodding back at her. “But, I think, I'm game for a nap right now.”

“Oh, that does sound really good, now that you mention it.” Lily nodded, tired from the heat and their sex. “We should be up in time for dinner.” She said, smiling at her grandparents, then went upstairs with Sy.

“How about a cool shower first?” Sy suggested after they got back upstairs to their room, seeing Lily was still a little sweaty and red. “Wash this sweaty grim off of us and cool off before we nap.”

Lily felt her drying skin and the stickiness between her legs from their combined release. “I think that's a good idea.” She agreed, then followed him into the bathroom.

Sy pulled down the zipper in the back of her dress, then got undressed himself, turning on the shower and making sure it was cool, but not cold, before letting Lily step in first and following in behind her, watching the water wash over her for a few moment. He picked up the bottle of body wash from the shower basket, the scent of white peaches and cream filling the small space as he opened the bottle, moaning softly at the scent he'd become familiar with on her skin of late.

Lily chuckled. “Do I need to change body washes, when we get home, Bear?” She asked, as he started washing the sweaty grim off of her.

“Definitely.” He chuckled, letting her rinse off, then quickly washed himself, not above smelling like peaches too. “Do you have a preference?” Sy asked, after they had settled into bed for their nap.

“Preference for what?” Lily replied, returning to the surface of being awake.

“For what gender you want the baby to be?”

“No.” She shook her head. “But, I do want to continue one thing, if it's a girl.”

“All right.” He nodded. “What is it?”

“The name.” Lily told him. “My great-grandmother's name was Jasmine, my grandmother is Violet, and my mother's name was Daisy..”

“And yours is Lily.” Sy smiled against her shoulder. “All flower themed.”

“Mmhm.” She nodded, starting to tip back off to sleep. “If we have a girl, I want to give her a flower themed name, to continue the tradition.”

“I'm more than all right with that.” He told her, sweet on the idea. “If we have more kids and they're all girls, we'll have a whole flower garden running around the house.” He teased, lightheartedly.

Lily chuckled and snuggled back against him. “The house will smell wonderful.” She teased back, her voice just a faint murmur, before she finally dropped off.

“Is it really time for you to go?” Violet asked, clutching Lily's hands.

“Sadly, it is.” Lily nodded, gulping down a fresh wave of tears.

Lily and Sy had stayed with her grandparents for nearly a week, which wasn't enough for the three of them to catch up and patch five years of absence, but they all knew it was time. The couple had a life back in Celina, that's where they had started to plant their roots and where they wanted to raise their now expanding family.

“You promise to come back and visit?”

“Nothing can ever prevent that from happening again, Mee-Maw. You have my word.” Lily assured her, squatting down in front of her wheelchair.

“I want to meet my great-grandbaby.”

“That, for sure, is going to happen.” Lily chuckled, a couple of tears escaping. “I wouldn't let you miss that opportunity for anything in the world.” She sniffled, starting to lose the battle on her emotions.

“Vi.” Davis whispered, resting his hand on his wife's shoulder. “Lily has appointments she needs to make, so we can meet our sweet great-grandbaby.” He told her, giving Lily a soft smile, his own brown eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Call me, when you stop for the night, so we know you're safe.” Violet said, giving Lily and Sy a stern look.

Even though they had only known him for less than a week, Sy had become family to the Warrens. Violet had become very grandmotherly towards him, while Davis treated him almost like a son. The two men had really bonded over the fact Sy had been in the military, with Davis having served in the U.S Marine Corps during the Vietnam war, before being honorably discharged for a medical injury, at the rank of Master Sergeant. Sy had realized something as he and Lily packed up the truck that morning, he had driven to Virginia with her so shecould reconnect with her family, but in doing so, he had gained a family in more than just Lily, the baby and Aika. It wasn't what he had been looking for, it had all found him, the whole situation, from taking the contract to fix up Lily's place to the moment they were having with her grandparents.

With every aspect and event he found himself in with Lily, it only made him feel more like he belonged.

“You hear me, Austin?” Violet's voice cut through his thoughts.

“Yes, ma'am.” He nodded, smiling and biting his lip, feeling a hard lump of emotion in his throat. “I'll make sure of it.”

“Good.” She smiled at him, then held her arms out to him.

Sy smiled out even bigger and walked back up onto the porch, bending over and carefully closed his muscular arms around her thin body, hugging her gently. “It was good meeting you Ms. Violet.” He whispered into her ear.

“You too.” She whispered back. “And you take care of her and the baby.”

“On my life.” He replied, pulling back.

They winked at each other, chuckling and making Lily and Davis laugh as well. With their good-byes said and everything, including Aika, packed back into the truck, Lily and Sy got in too, waving until they lost sight of Violet and Davis. They weren't down the road very far, when Sy pulled off the side of the road and turned in his seat to face Lily.

“What?” She frowned back at him.

“You all right?” He asked, his eyes reading her.

“I'm fine.” She replied, but he could hear the thickness in her voice.

Sy turned and jerked open his door and moved around the truck and pulled open her door. “Lily.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lily pressed her lips together for a moment, before taking a deep breath, her chin trembling as her tears crashed into her. Her seat belt wasn't off a moment, before she found herself in his arms and buried against his chest, sobbing into his Metallica t-shirt.

“You'll see them again, Angel.” He murmured into her hair, hands rubbing up and down her trembling back. “I promise, and you'll get to talk to them all the time. Mac even promised to teach them how to use Skype, so you guys can video call.” He told her, trying to soothe her pain and anxiety.

“We'll come back up after the baby's born, so they can meet.” He promised, cupping the back of her head and pressing his lips to her forehead, before wiping away her tears. “Okay?” He smiled at her, feeling the same anxious twist about leaving, but not even close in magnitude that Lily was.

“Okay.” She sniffled, rubbing at her eyes and collecting herself.

“Okay.” He nodded, but neither of them moved, but then Sy looked at her with a strange resolution. “Do you wanna get married?”

“What?” Lily squeaked, frowning at him. “You've already proposed to me, Austin.”

“That's not what I'm asking, Lily.” He replied, licking his lips, the sudden idea brewing inside of his mind. “Do you want to get married, right now?”

“Here?” She asked, looking around them. “In Virginia?”

“Yeah.” He nodded at her, his heart pounding as his adrenaline started to rush through his veins. “We can go back to your grandparents' place, because we'll need witnesses, then go into town and get married. We both know we don't want a massive wedding. I don't have any family I want, or even could, invite and...”

“My grandparents are the only family I have; other than you, Aika and the baby.” She finished his sentence, falling in sync with his thought process.

“So?”

Lily held his eyes for a split moment, then smiled softly at him, and nodded at him. “I think I like that idea, Austin.”

“All right.” He grinned back, kissing her, then ran back around to the driver's seat and hauled ass back to the farm.

“Is everything all right?” Davis asked, coming out of the house as he saw the truck flying up the driveway.

“Everything is fine and dandy.” Lily chuckled at him. “But, Austin and I need your and Mee-Maw's help with something.” She grinned, giggling, with a bubbly air of excited energy.

“What is it?”

Lily looked over at Sy, who grinned at her, then back to her grandfather. “We need two witnesses.” She said, the hint thick in her voice.

A smile instantly touched Davis's lips, understanding Lily's meaning and what she and Sy wanted from him and Violet. “We'll meet you at the Loudoun County courthouse.” He told them, feeling the giddy energy coming off of Lily and Sy infect him on the porch.

“I regret not having an actual wedding ring for you.” Sy commented as the two of them made their way downtown.

“I don't need one, Sy.” Lily told him, reaching out to take one of his hands off the steering wheel. “I told you, you are enough and the ring you already gave me is enough. I don't need anything more than that, Bear.” She said, threading their fingers together.

“Other than maybe...” She grinned at him.

Sy chuckled, bringing their hands up and kissed her fingers. “I'll get you a pretzel, Sweetness.” He grinned, shaking his head. “I feel like I should just buy a pretzel factory or something, the way you're going.” He teased her.

“That would be super nice.” Lily agreed, licking her lips. “Buy the property next door and set it up right there, with the production line ending right into the house.”

It was a good thing they stopped at a red light, because Sy lost it, laughing his ass off at the image of a conveyor belt of freshly baked pretzels coming in through one of the downstairs windows of the house with Lily seated in front of it, just power munching on them with her plump baby belly, happy as all hell. He still had tears in his eyes, after they parked in the county courthouse and were standing out front, waiting for Davis and Violet to show up.

“I'm glad you're loving it up.” Lily giggled at him.

Sy cupped Lily's face in his hands. “My little pretzel.”

“Oh good lord, Wyatt.” She laughed, gripping his wrists. “You're a mess.”

“You're going to marry this mess.” He grinned at her, pulling her closer to him and felt her rounding belly brush his abs.

“I am.” She nodded, smiling up at him. “I wouldn't have it any other way, with anyone else.”

“That's a relief.” Sy replied, feigning shock to know it.

“Lovebirds, no matter where the two of you are.” Violet's voice came as Davis pushed her towards them.

“When in love.” Lily replied, unashamed or moving away from Sy.

“Are we ready for this?” Davis asked, looking around at the group.

“I am.” Lily nodded, looking up at Sy.

“So am I.” Sy replied, smiling down at her.

“We are too.” Violet nodded.

“In we go then.” Davis said, and the small group went inside the courthouse.

“Here.” Lily said, slipping off her ring and handing it to Sy. “Just humor me.” She chuckled softly, when he lifted a brow at her in question.

“All right.” He nodded, slipping it into the front pocket of his jeans.

Going into the courthouse get a marriage license and giving the appropriate documentation they needed for it, then with the license filled out and official, they patiently waited for the couple ahead of them to have their moment getting married with the judge and all, before going into the little courtroom with the judge standing at the front, waiting for them in his official robe and a bible in his hand.

“Hello, I'm Judge Timothy Miller, I'll be marrying the two of you today.” He smiled at Lily and Sy.

“Sounds good to me.” Sy replied, nodding his head politely to the judge.

“Same.” Lily agreed, nervously licking her lips.

“Are these are your witnesses?” He asked, looking to Davis and Violet.

“Yes, sir. They're my grandparents.” Lily explained, smiling over her shoulder at them.

“That's lovely.” Judge Miller smiled at them all, plainly seeing the love everyone had for each other, especially Lily and Sy. “Shall we commence?” He asked, looking between the two of them.

“Yes, please.” They both nodded, feeling their nerves and jitters start to really increase.

“All right, I'll have the two of you face each other.” He said, motioning to space in front of him.

Lily and Sy stood before him, facing each other and holding hands, while staring at each other, Violet and Davis stood off to one side. Sy smiled at Lily, giving her trembling hands a squeeze with his, feeling his own hands shake. But, neither of them were going to back out, they honestly couldn't picture standing up there with anyone else.

They had found a home and a soulmate in each other.

“We are gathered here, on this fine day, to join Austin Wyatt Syverson and Lily Ana Moore together in the holy matrimony, that is marriage.” Judge Miller began speaking, regarding Lily and Sy in turns. “The bonds of marriage are untied with sacred love and the deepest respect, as should one spouse treat the other with that sacred love and respect.”

“Now, do we have rings?” He asked, looking at them with a lifted brow.

“Just hers.” Sy said, going into his pocket and pulling it out.

“All right, put it on her finger and repeat after me.” Judge Miller instructed him.

Sy slipped the ring back onto Lily's finger. “I, Austin Wyatt Syverson, take you, Lily Ana Moore, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forth, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; until death do us part.”

“Same with you.” The Judge said to Lily, nodding his head at her.

“I, Lily Ana Moore, take you, Austin Wyatt Syverson, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forth, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; until death do us part.” She repeated after him, letting out a relieved breath that she hadn't stumbled and missed any of it up.

“It is my pleasure and by the power vested in me, by the power of Loudoun County, in the state of Virginia, to pronounce you, man and wife.” Judge Miller grinned at them.

“Mr. Syverson, you may kiss your bride, Mrs. Syverson.”

“With pleasure.” Sy grinned with immense pride, pulling Lily against him and kissed her, intensely. “I never, in a million years, thought I would ever hear that.”

“What?” Lily asked, walking out of the courthouse with him, hand in hand.

“Mrs. Syverson.”

“I have to agree with you.” She replied, pressing her shoulder against his arm. “I always thought I'd be a Ms. for the rest of my life.”

“I guess you two are really back to Texas now?” Davis asked, coming up behind them with Violet.

“Yeah.” Sy nodded, looking at Lily. “Lily has a fourteen week baby appointment we can't miss.” He explained to them.

“But, we'll come back, when the baby is born so you guys can meet them.” Lily promised them, resting her hand on her belly.

“You better come back here with my great-grandbaby, or you'll have hell to deal with, Missy.” Violet threatened, wagging a bony finger at her, but the playful smirk on her face gave it away.

“You have my word, Mee-Maw.” Lily chuckled, bending over to kiss her on the cheek. “I wouldn't have it any other way. Mama isn't here to meet them, so I have to make sure you do.” She said, straightening up, a sad pang in her chest at knowing her own mother would never meet her grand-baby.

The group was somber for a moment as the fact settled on them, before they parted ways once again. But, Sy and Lily didn't hit the road as soon as they left the courthouse either.

“Where are we going, Bear?” She asked him, confused.

“Well, I promised you a pretzel, for one.” He chuckled at her. “And two, it doesn't seem right.” He said, wiggling the fingers of his left hand.

So, Sy got Lily the pretzel he had promised her, then they stopped off at the jeweler's he had bought her engagement, now wedding ring at, and after browsing for several moments, Lily stopped beside a glass display case, spotting a ring inside of it and pointed at it.

“If that doesn't scream Austin Syverson, then my name isn't Lily Syverson.” She said, staring at it wide eyed.

Sy laughed and crossed over to her, looking into the case at the ring she was pointing at and felt himself freeze, as it hit him, like seeing hers had. “I'm in total agreement with you. Both on the ring and your name.” He said, seeing the tungsten carbide ring.

“That's the one.” He told the jeweler, nodding his head at the ring.

“Fits like a glove.” Lily said, watching Sy slip it onto his left ring finger.

“Or in this case, a wedding ring.” He chuckled at her, turning it around his finger.

“Neither of us expected this, when we were driving out here.” She said, going back out to the car with him.

“Actually, I had been considering proposing to you for a while.” Sy confessed, finally getting them onto the highway back home to Celina. “Even before we found out about the baby.”

Lily twisted in her seat to face him, face slack in surprise. “Seriously!”

“Yep.” He nodded, grinning. “You're home to me, Lily. You've been a home to me for such a long time, before we slept together that night in the barn and everything.” He licked his lips and shifted in his seat. “I thought, maybe, even if we didn't have that sort of connection, we could still at least take care of each other and keep each other—company.” He told her, drumming on the steering wheel with his thumbs.

“I have a lot of baggage with my time in the military and people have a lot of trouble dealing with that and rarely stick around because of it. I honestly expected you to run me off that day on the porch, when I nearly took your head off.” He explained, babbling at this point.

“But you didn't. Even then, I expected you to tiptoe or be afraid of me.”

“But, I'm not afraid of you, Austin. I have no reason to be afraid of you or tiptoe around you.” Lily told him, hurt that he thought she would get rid of him or be scared of him, because of the things he can't really control. “Even when I first saw you, I wasn't afraid of you. You've never given me a reason to be. I sure as hell would never blame you for having PTSD for being in multiple war zones, as many times and as long as you had been.”

“I admit, if you ever did give me a reason to believe you'd hurt me, I would have told you to piss off.” She told him, honestly.

“I would have left long before that, if I thought I would do something to hurt you.” He said, looking over at her, the fear that he would do something, was evident in his eyes.

“I know that.” She whispered. “But, you're not, Austin. Not then. Not now. Not ever, and I'm not going anywhere either. I'm staying right with you, I'll always be there for you, especially in those moments.” She promised him, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.

“We're stuck together.”

“Now and forever.” Sy grinned, happy and relieved.

“Plus a day.” Lily giggled, laying her head on his shoulder.

“I want to make a tradition of our own.” Sy said, breaking the quiet of the truck. “If we have a boy.”

They were only a few hours from being back home in Celina and felt the peacefulness of being so close to their own place again, their own space and bed.

“Okay.” Lily replied, settling her eyes on him.

“So, the girls on your mother's side of the family were named after flowers, right?”

“Correct.” She nodded back.

“Well, I was named Austin, because my parents met in Austin.”

“Oh, don't tell me you want to name our potential son, Celina.” Lily giggled, teasing him.

“Gods, no.” Sy laughed back, shaking his head at her. “But, I do want to name any would-be sons after cities. Like, Dallas.” He explained to her.

“Austin Jr.” Lily chuckled back. “But, I like that idea.”

“Can I make one more suggestion?” He inquired, lifting a brow at her.

“Of course.”

“If we do have a daughter, I know we want to give her a flower themed first name, but can I pick her middle name?”

“Of course, do you have one in mind?” Lily asked, tilting her head at him.

“I do.” Sy nodded at her, his blue eyes getting a far off look.

“What is it?”

“Let's find out, if it's a girl first.” He said, shaking his head and clearing his vision. “Then, I'll tell you.”

“Okay, keeper of secrets.” She chuckled.

“Son of a—“

Lily paused as she carried the laundry basket up the stairs, hearing Sy's muffled curse from the guest room, turned nursery.

“What happened to good ol' fashioned, pure American made furniture?” He grumbled around his smarting thumb.

Chuckling and setting the basket down, Lily went down to the nursery. “Is that a grizzly Bear I'm hearing?” She asked, her voice light and playful as she smiled at him.

“Why did we have to buy the baby stuff from IKEA?” He asked, scowling at the mostly put together changing table.

“Because, their baby stuff is adorable.” She giggled at him, moving over to him, to check his smashed appendage.

Sy huffed, but let her take his hand in hers, watching her quietly and gently fuss over his swollen and multi-colored thumb. “If you like them, then it doesn't matter.” He sighed, frowning at the other unboxed baby furniture that was in the room with them.

“I do like them.” Lily nodded, assured he hadn't done any real damage to his hand. “That's why I got them. It goes with our neutral theme, since we don't know the baby's sex yet.” She told him, kissing his thumb, with a mischievous smile.

“Then, I'll get it done.” He replied, cupping her face and pulled her in, kissing her gently.

“Bob the Builder can eat his heart out.” She chuckled, kissing him back. “He's got nothing on Captain Syverson.” She proclaimed proudly, before standing back up and retrieving her laundry basket, to put away the clean clothes she'd spent all morning washing, in the master bedroom.

When she finished putting the clothes away, Lily paused in the middle of the bedroom, tapping her foot and chewing on her bottom lip as a sudden idea brewed inside of her mind. It wasn't a completely new idea, but the evolution of it was. Turning the upper half of her body towards the open bedroom door, listening to the bumps and curses coming from the nursery down the hall.

“Sy!” She called out to him, then winced hearing a crash and another curse.

“Yeah, babe?” He answered, sighing.

“You wanna distraction?” She asked, biting the corner of her lip and feeling bad.

Sy appeared in the nursery doorway, his bruised fingers pressed to his chest. “I would love one, Angel.” He replied, giving her a grateful, but pained expression. “What do you have in mind?”

Lily stepped into their closet for a moment, before coming back out and holding up her professional digital camera, a Panasonic Lumix, for him to see, and Sy frowned at her, head tilting in question.

“Baby book.” She smiled at him.

“What's that gotta do with me?” He asked, blinking at her.

“You silly Bear.” Lily giggled at him. “You've gotta be in the book too! You are the Daddy.”

“Okay.” Sy nodded, biting his lip and glancing around. “What do you want me to do?”

“Let's go downstairs.” She said, taking her camera and headed downstairs with Sy following after her. “This'll be a good place.” She decided, stopping in the dining room, where there was a clear wall by the bay window, where there was a lot of light.

Lily paused for a moment, then disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with a little whiteboard she would write little notes on, doctor's appointments, deadlines or anything else she and Sy needed to remember. Sy watched her bustle about, putting her idea into motion. Erasing the writing on the whiteboard, Lily wrote fourteen weeks on it, then carefully hung it up on the wall, then planted her hands on her hips and left the room again, making Sy chuckle at her.

“Perfectionist.” He teased, when she came back, with a short tripod.

“To the end.” She giggled back, setting the tripod up on the dining table and connected the camera to it. “All right, now.” She approached Sy, resting her hands on him and turned him sideways.

“Now, don't move.”

“As you wish, Angel.” Sy grinned, planting his feet in place.

“That's a good Bear.” She grinned back, patting him on the chest, then removed her shirt.

“Well, ya gotta see my tummy.” Lily giggled at him at his lifted brow.

“Well, if you're taking your shirt off, I'm taking mine off.” He replied, yanking his blue tank top off over his head.

“What, for your six babies?” Lily teased him, touching his fur covered abs.

“They're sympathy babies.” Sy chuckled at her.

“Sympathy babies?” She roared with laughter.

“You know what a sympathy pregnancy is?” He asked, grinning at her. “It's that, just six mini ones.”

“Well, that's the fast way to have a bunch of kids.” Lily joked back, thoroughly amused at his sympathy babies.

“Okay, back to what we were doing.”

“Right, what now, Mama?”

“I'm going to stand here.” She said, moving in front of him and resting her back against his chest. “And you're going to put your hands here.” She reached back, gripping Sy's wrists and moved them around to the front of her, so his hands cradled her growing baby bump.

“Like this?” Sy asked, making small adjustments.

“Yes, perfect.” Lily nodded, holding a small remote in her hand that would allow her to snap the photo, but before she could press the button, Aika came charging in and barked at them. “Oh my, how could I be so rude to forget you, Aika.” She cooed at the German Shepherd.

“Aika, sit.” Sy snapped his fingers at her and she instantly sat down before them, staring up at them, ears erect and head cocked to the side.

“That's so perfect.” Lily grinned at Aika. “So, I'm going to look at my belly and you can look at me.” She instructed Sy.

“Way ahead of you, Angel.” Sy replied, already looking at the back of her head, and just before she pressed the button on the camera's remote, he kissed her hair. “Let's see it.” He said, moving away from her.

Lily grabbed the camera off the tripod and pulled it up on the display screen, instantly grinning at it. The image of Sy cradling her baby bump, while she looked down at it, and kissing the back of her head, with Aika looking curiously up at her two and a half humans. She couldn't wait to add it to the baby book she had bought several weeks before and started putting together.

“You want to do a few more?” She asked, looking up from the camera.

“You're damn right I do.” Sy nodded, excited at the thought of doing an activity with Lily and anything that included their baby, still in her belly or not.

“Do you have any suggestions?” She inquired, tilting her head at him.

He bit his lip, then lifted a finger at her and left the room, coming back several minutes later with a worn, Army green shirt with two patches on the short sleeves, one for the U.S Army Special Forces and the other was the custom Special Forces patch for the team he was the leader of.

“I wore this a lot, while on tour.” He explained to her, looking at the garment in his hands.

Lily smiled at him, seeing and feeling how shy he was as he tried to explain his thoughts for what he wanted for a few shots. “I like that idea, Bear.” She assured him.

“Yeah?” Sy replied, lighting up.

“I do.” Lily nodded, eyes sparkling at him. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

“Okay, um.” He looked around, he wasn't as good as Lily with setting up photo shots, but he had an idea in his head. “Here, put it on.” He said, handing her his shirt.

“All right.” Lily took his shirt and slipped it on.

“Can you..” He paused, biting his lip and glancing around. “Can you sit the camera up on the coffee table, like you had it here?” He asked, motioning to the tripod still sitting on the dining table.

“I very much can.” Lily nodded, grabbing the tripod and her camera, taking them into the living room and set them up on the coffee table as he asked.

“What next?”

“Lay down on the couch, sorta propped up on the arm.”

Nodding, Lily did as he asked and Sy fussed with the camera for a moment, making sure the shot would be wide enough, then moved around the coffee table, slipping onto the couch with her and positioning himself so he was between her legs, his face level with her belly.

“You have the remote to the camera?” He asked her.

“I do.” She nodded, grinning at him and held the remote up for him to see.

“Okay, good.” He gave her a short nod. “I'm gonna kiss your gorgeous belly and I want you to snap it.”

“As you wish, Bear.” Lily chuckled, gently patting his cheek.

Sy lowered his head, a soft blush on his bearded cheeks, that Lily hoped she could get in on the camera, and gently pressed his lips to her belly through the fabric of his old Army shirt. Lily waited a moment, admiring and savoring it for herself, before actually taking the photo of him doing it.

“How about one for just you and I?” Lily suggested, when Sy sat back up. “Not for the baby book, just me and you.”

“Oh?” Sy grinned, his brow going up in a suggestive manner.

Lily licked her lips and nodded her head. “Where are your dog tags?”

“My dog tags?”

“Well, I certainly don't have any.” She chuckled at him.

“Huh, I think they're upstairs in one of the boxes I brought over when I officially moved in.” He replied, brow creasing as he tried to recall which of the boxes it was he might have put them in.

“Then, go find them.”

“All right then, Miss.” He replied, getting up off the couch and going back upstairs.

“That's Mrs. Thank you!” Lily hollered after him, shaking her head and stood up, grabbing her camera and the tripod, then going upstairs after him.

“What is that beautiful brain thinking?” Sy asked, pulling out a box from the closet and setting it on their bed as she came into the room.

“When you find your dog tags, I'll tell you.” She smiled at him, setting the tripod and camera down on the dresser across from their bed.

“Ah-ha!” He let out triumphantly, smiling and pulled out his dog tags from the third box for Lily to see the two thin tags dangling from their chain, rimmed by black rubber to keep them from making noise, when they hit together.

“Nope.” He shook his head at her, pulling the dog tags away as she reached out for them. “Tell me what you want them for first, little lady.”

“I'm going to get naked and they'll be the only thing I'm wearing.” She told him, bluntly.

Sy gulped, his eyes widening at the thought. “Sold.” He squeaked, handing them to her.

Lily removed her clothing and slipped Sy's dog tags over her head, resting between the swell of her breasts and the top of her sloping belly. “Get in bed, Syverson.” She said, motioning to their bed with her head.

“As you wish, Syverson.” He chuckled at her. “You want me to get naked too?” He teased her.

“If you wanna.” Lily chuckled back, following close behind him.

“I do.” He smirked and pushed his shorts down, kicking them aside and got into bed, resting back against their pillows and the headboard.

Lily crawled into bed with him, nuzzling herself between his legs, making him moan a bit as her ass rubbed against his semi-flaccid cock. She hooked Sy's feet around, so she sat in the bowl in the middle of them and rested back against his chest, then had him rest his head on her shoulder, with one of his hands cupped the side of her stomach and she rested her hand on top of his there. She gasped softly, feeling his other hand gently cup one of her sore breasts, his face gently nuzzling her neck with a soft smile.

“I love you.” He murmured.

“I love you too, Bear.” She cooed back, resting comfortably against him, and snapped the shot. “It'll be better, when my stomach is bigger.”

“Oh, I really can't wait for that.” Sy admitted, rubbing his calloused hands over her stomach. “I can't wait for the moment when I can put my hands on your belly and feel the baby move against my palms.” He told her, fantasizing about it.

“I feel little flutters every now and then.” Lily replied, resting her head back against his shoulder. “But, nothing I can share with you yet.” She told him, comfortable in their weird little huddle.

“One day soon, Angel.” He whispered into her ear, hugging his arms around her and closing his eyes.

“Sy!” Lily screamed, wiggling and panting. “Austin! Jesus Christ.” She huffed as Aika barked and paced around her.

Sy came pounding down the stairs, hearing her frantic yelling from where he was upstairs, still working in the nursery. “Lily!” He yelled, tearing into the living room, out of breath and scared out of his mind.

“What's wrong?” He asked, staring down at her as she laid on her bright purple yoga mat on the living room floor, she had gotten into pregnancy yoga, after trying it during one of the parenting classes they attended. “Is it the baby?” His eyes searched every inch of her body, watching Aika shove her nose underneath Lily's hips, sides and in the nook of her neck, making her wiggle even more and squeal.

“The baby is fine, Austin.” Lily huffed, out of breath and going limp on the yoga mat. “It's me, that's the problem.” She scowled, her face bright red.

Sy's face didn't change. “What is it, Angel?”

Lily bit her lip and huffed again, glancing away from him, knowing what was coming next out of him. “I can't get up.”

And there it fucking was.

Sy's head reared back and his laugh roared through the house like a boom of thunder, startling the daylights out of Aika, who barked directly into Lily's ear and bolted for the new doggy door in the kitchen and vanished into the backyard. His whole body shook as he continued to laugh at her for not being able to get up from her mat, even starting to wheeze.

“Good lord, Wyatt!” Lily growled at him.

“You're like a turtle!” He howled, bending forward, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Should I call PETA first? I don't want to get in trouble for endangering wildlife.” He cackled, rubbing her now pronounced belly.

“The only thing endanger is your sex life!” Lily threatened him. “Now, help me up! Your kid is squishing my bladder!” She begged, holding her hands out to him and desperately wiggling her fingers.

“All right! All right.” He chuckled, grabbing her hands and carefully pulled her up onto her feet. “Waddle faster, my little submarine!” He shouted after her, starting to laugh all over again.

“I hate you!” She shouted over her shoulder, just making it to the hall bathroom.

“You ready, Bear?” Lily asked, squeezing Sy's hand as they followed the nurse back to the exam room.

“As I can be, Angel.” He replied, taking a deep breath. “As I can be.”

It was Lily's twenty-third week baby appointment and the moment of truth, when they found out the gender of their baby. They were both excited and nervous about finding out, having spent the last two weeks scouring names of cities and flowers and making their own lists for names if they had a girl or a boy, to then narrow down, once they did find out what gender they were having; and today was that day.

“Good morning.” Dr. Evers smiled as she came into their exam room. “How are parents and baby doing today?” She asked, sitting down on a stool.

“We're doing really well.” Lily smiled back at her, giddy. “Ready to find out the gender.” She said, glancing over at Sy.

“I bet you're just chomping it to bits to find out.” Dr. Evers chuckled, doing a quick regular exam of Lily, before setting up the ultrasound.

“I love hearing that sound.” Sy said, unconscionably as the baby's heartbeat filled the room.

“It's a precious sound.” Evers agreed, smiling over at him.

“Amen.” Lily nodded, gripping Sy's hand and staring at the screen.

“Let's see if I can get a better position.” Dr. Evers said, moving the transducer around Lily's belly, spreading more of the warm jelly with it, then went quiet for a few minutes, typing a few things on the keyboard.

“Is everything okay?” Sy asked, nervously.

“Everything is perfectly fine.” She smiled at him. “Just making a few measurements.” She assured him, before moving the transducer again. “Ah, there you are.” She grinned brightly, finally getting the right angle on the screen that she needed to tell her what gender the Syverson's baby was.

“Do you want to know right now, or do you want me to write it down and you can look when you get home?” She asked, regarding the two of them.

Lily and Sy looked at each other, a silent conversation going on between them for a long moment before Lily looked back at Dr. Evers and smiled, nervously, at her and nodded her head.

“Now, please.”

Nodding her head back at them, then pointed to the screen. “If you look right there.” She outlined what she was indicating. “You can just make out what it is. So, I'm happy to tell you, you are expecting a healthy baby girl.”

“A girl.” Sy echoed back, his voice weak with emotion and his eyes glued to the screen. “I have a daughter.”

“A daughter, Bear.” Lily grinned at him, reaching up and wiping away the silent tears that were starting to fall down his face. “We have a daughter, Sy.”

Sy wrapped his arms around Lily and hugged her for dear life, burying his face into her neck, soaking the shoulder of her shirt with his tears. “Thank you.” He sniffled and hiccuped. “Thank you.”

“We did it together, Sy.” Lily replied, emotional as well. “We both did this.”

“You guys are doing great and the baby is doing amazingly.” Dr. Evers complimented them, a bit choked up as well. “I'll have you set up your next appointment and you know to contact me, if anything happens.”

“Thanks, doc.” Sy smiled at her.

“It's my pleasure.” She assured him.

“All right, Bear. You said, if we had a girl you had a middle name for her, now out with it.” Lily said, as they drove back home.

Sy cleared his throat, still an emotional wreck that they were having a daughter. “Imogene.”

“Imogene.” Lily repeated, blinking at him. “Why Imogene?” She asked, tilting her head at him.

He was quiet for a long while, trying to get a handle on an old emotional lump that was trying to push up alongside the one already in his throat. “I want her to have the middle name, Imogene,” He started to explain, as they reached their driveway.

“Because, it was my mama's name.” He told her, softly.

302 notes · View notes

silkhy-john · 4 years ago

Text

HEADCANON:

A smaller one this time, cause bebby needs sleep guys (I'll probably just play Radical Red instead of sleeping though lolllllll)

Anyway, I HC that Nico does a lot of quests, way more than the number any of the seven have done.

A good number are normally requests from his father, Demeter, and Persephone, stuff like helping the cthonic gods, or helping Triptolemus and his pursuits (Trip and Nico got past the corn thing. They binge Carmen San Diego after work and discuss stuff), or looking for a rare-ass flower to add to the underworld garden with all relevant sources as very dangerous creatures.

Some are from Chiron, I wrote a piece about one of those, you can ask for the link of you're interested. He doesn't really like the Chiron ones, because it's usually a quest that's too complex for even the seasoned camper's kit, or is an odd quest that relies on the aspects of his powers that Nico isn't completely comfortable with.

The last category is quests that Nico takes up out of the goodness of his own heart (which he insists to anyone who so much as suggests that said goodness exists is "cold and dead").

Nico has made himself a reputation as a helpful individual, and many minor gods reach out to him, basically. It's gotten to the point that the combination of the Persephone/Hades quests + his general reputation as helpful has made him actively interact with MANY other pantheons. He and Walt are good friends, and he helps Anubis get a grasp on powers over death and the limits of the human body.

Whenever he helps the minor gods, they impart blessings on him without his knowledge (boons for my Hades fans out there. Yes, I think Zag and Nico are very similar. Yes, I think they'd be very good friends. Hades (from Hades) would probably tell Zagreus to be "more like that Pluto-Boy" (yes, Hades knows Nico is a son of Hades, but he says Pluto for the distinction)).

The blessings definitely boost Nico's status from most powerful demigod to something closer to a minor god who can die. Zeus isn't comfortable with this. This is sorta like the plot to The Second Life on ao3. Go read that, real good jasercico with Apollico on the side.

Jason uses Nico's acquaintance with minor gods to get help knowing who to build shrines to.

The reason Chiron sends Nico on the most dangerous quests alone (at Nico's request). Nico catches on to how strange it is that he's the only exception the biggest camp rule: absolutely no questing alone. Confronting Chiron about it finally makes him aware of the many blessings he's been given. He becomes more powerful for it, being able to incorporate small aspects of other gods powers to his own. Zeus doesn't like it.

Cupid definitely asks Nico to be his champion. Nico declines.

He also does quests in record time and is a better "quest library/advisor" than Annabeth, simply for the fact that he has more experience than her or anyone else and has interacted with more of the mythos than anyone else. Athena considered offering him a mantle as one of her champions... but she decided not to ask.

And uhhhh.... yeah. That's it for the actual HC. Shitpost time.

Perspehone: Nico, could you get me something?

Nico: what?

Persephone: Lively daylight, the sister-flower to deadly nightshade

Nico: lemme guess, I'll have to go to Eos for this *groans*

Eos: don't start complaining yet, there's sphinges involved

(Sphinges is the plural of sphinx)

(Demeter, Hades, and Persephone are discussing Nico like a good and healthy parental unit. This is definitely not gossip or gloating).

Hades [proudly]: Nico has been looking really healthy lately. I believe all the travelling's helping.

Demeter [conspirationally]: the farm has helped him put on weight and muscle. You should see the way the Ares boys eye him up and the fantasies the Aphrodite and Hermes kids cook up when they get together. And for what? The boy doesn't look in mirrors

Persephone [feeling a bit left out]: he can make a mean cup of tea

Hades and Demeter [simultaneously]: *exchange look* *twin doting faces at persephone*

Iris: I just need someone who won't get trapped and turned into a guinea pig to deliver these for me... you've cross-dressed before, right?

Nico: once. It was literally just once because I was helping Butch–

Iris: yes, yes, so about the cupcakes...

(Butch was fitting skirts for purposes unknown to the shitposter. Something something Jake Mason something something I ship it).

Chiron: I hope this email finds you we–

Nico: I don't like it when the first thing people do is lie to me :/

Chiron [embarrassed]: *clears throat* it's leukrokottai and a single succubus

Nico: cool *face-plants into nearest shadow*

Sadie [puts down burger]: and the goddess in my mind was extremely manipulative and her plans almost fell apart

Isis: *indignant spluttering*

Nico [sipping choccy milk]: yep. Sounds a lot like a certain goat skin gal I know, except she prefers cows to birds

Hera: boy, I will smack you into next century

Hades, Demeter, Persephone [in sync]: *glare meaningfully*

Hera [teeth gritted]: and by that I'll ask Hebe if she can get you to see the next 100 years without being trample by cows

Cupid: so yeah, could you be my champion?

Nico: we've moved the incident, but not that far past it. No.

Hades: *smug*

Athena: I was gonna ask, but I like to avoid embarrassment and the answer no.

And that's it. I wasn't planning to do the shitpost part since I actually want to write something for this idea? So yeah, deuces.

These tags are wild, wild, wild. I didn't need to tag like that LOLLLL. Anyway.

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lemon-boy-stan · 3 years ago

Text

LO$ERS -> 23. "THE WIZARD OF OZ"

You watched Yeonjun jump down from the truck, taking a breath of fresh air. Then he turned to the rest of you and grinned, "coast is clear. There's no one here for miles."

"Where did they go? There were people driving the truck, I could hear them. There's no such thing as self-driving trucks. Except for like, the Transformers."

Soobin laughed at Hueningkai's joke but Taehyun glared at him and scowled, "they probably ditched us and ran off," then he turned to you, "can you jump? It's only a little bit high up from the ground."

You kept quiet but nodded, taking Taehyun's hand, jumping down to meet Yeonjun on the grass. As Taehyun moved his arm to help you balance, you looked around and realised that Yeonjun was right: it was nothing but forest for miles.

"Anyone know where we are?" Taehyun spoke again, and you shrugged. "S - somewhere near the B - Barrens, I think. We shouldn't be t - too far away from t - town." Taehyun nodded, "if we go through the forest we might find civilisation. I can see telephone poles. That means houses."

Hueningkai grinned, "our photos are probably on milk cartons by now." you nodded in agreement, "through the forest, then." you hobbled your leg, gritting your teeth.

You suddenly wished you'd never agreed to go in the forest at all.

The trees were tall and dark, and they clustered together Like walls. There was a single, man-made path that lead through the greenery. Dark shadows loomed over the pine trees, and strange voices whispered all around you.

Despite all the eerieness, Yeonjun grinned, jabbing your brother playfully with his right elbow. "Hey, Soobin. Check it out. The road's yellow, Like in the Wizard of Oz. Guys! Why don't we sing? We're off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz. We're off to see the Wizard, the wonderful -"

"Let's not." That was Taehyun, who'd stopped in his tracks to turn around and glare at Yeonjun fiercely. The eldest sighed, shrugging, "okay, whatever." and when Taehyun turned away, he muttered "party-pooper," under his breath.

You grinned, shaking your head. "Yeah, real m - mature," Soobin rolled his eyes but Yeonjun didn't seem to notice. Instead, he linked arms with your brother and skipped along the brick road. Hueningkai snickered loudly, "get a room."

Giggling softly, you shook your head, Limping through the forest, pretending to be a normal teenager on a walk with her friends. Except it wasn't a normal forest, and things were about to get pretty crazy pretty fast.

Admist the laughter and conversation of your friends, a twig broke in the distance, but you shook it off. It was probably a small animal like a rabbit or a squirrel or something. Besides. The guys didn't seem to think anything of it, so...

"What the hell was that!" Hueningkai's voice rang loudly through your ears and the five of you stopped dead in your tracks. Yeonjun whirled around, "what? What is it?"

Hueningkai frowned, "I thought I just saw - never mind. Come on, we have a lot of walking to do." Hueningkai changed the topic of conversation to Fortnite, and now they were all so engrossed in the conversation that they'd forgotten he'd seen something, but you hadn't. You couldn't think straight. Your mind was whirring, a thousand possibilities swimming in your head.

What if someone was out there? Were you being watched? Again? What if it was the same person who kidnapped you? Or what if it was something else entirely? What if -

"Hey," Taehyun's gentle voice snapped you out of your thoughts, "that anxious thinking isn't going to get you anywhere, okay? Besides. You're safe. Hueningkai was probably just messing around. There's nothing scary in the woods."

As he spoke, Yeonjun's voice sounded strained. "Are you sure? Because that - that looks pretty fucking scary, Taehyun."

Yeonjun pointed in front of him and Taehyun rolled his eyes: "shut up, hyung, you're only - fuck, what is that!" Taehyun jumped away, pulling you with him.

"Spiders," Hueningkai sounded weak, "look. Eight legs -" Taehyun let out a frustrated noise, "yeah, I know they're spiders, you fuckwit! What I want to know is why are they ON STEROIDS? Why are they so fucking big!"

You stared at the shadows of the spiders, trying to figure out what was wrong with them. You turned to Taehyun and spoke in a small voice, "what's wrong with their heads?" and Taehyun shrugged largely.

The creatures stepped out of the darkness, the light casting ghostly rays on their pale, alien-like, skeletal legs. Hueningkai let out a shriek of disgust. "Because those aren't s - spider heads," Soobin breathed out, "they're human h - heads..." he stared at the spiders with caution.

There were five spiders in total, which would've been fine if it weren't for the fact that they were each about the size of a large cat. Their legs were long, sharp, and ghostly white, and were dripping in some kind of shiny liquid. It was probably poison.

But the size of the spiders wasn't the worst part of the spiders. Yeah, sure, they had heads, but they weren't your average spider heads. They were human heads. And worse, they were - "our heads," Soobin's voice was full of terror. "Those are our heads on t - there," he appeared calm, but you knew he was freaking out. When Soobin got anxious, he got clumsy.

He tripped over a twig and fell to the ground, but Yeonjun caught him just in time. Soobin stared at his hyung, "thanks." although you knew he was probably pondering why Yeonjun had helped him in the first place, you pushed the thought to the back of your head. Your big brother's anxiety was not one of your main problems right now.

One of the spiders advanced toward you. Its face was ghostly pale and thin, but its features were the same: his long, choppy black hair with those cute, DIY blonde highlights, a mischievous smirk and a twinkle in its eyes, the Beomgyu Spider approached you, snapping and snarling with its fangs, eyes bloodshot red.

You were expecting it to jump out at you, but the Beomgyu Spider stayed where it was, instead opened its alien-like mouth to speak. "Why did you Let it get me?" the spider sounded betrayed, hurt, upset. And you felt bad for it. "Y/N, why did you let the flames get me?"

Okay, what the fuck? Thought the small voice of reason at the back of your head, how does this thing know about my dream? No one knows about my dream. Not even Taehyun knows all of it.

"Beomgyu, I'm sorry," your eyes swelled with tears, "I tried to save you, but the hands just kept pulling you. I tried to tell you to come back, to move away from the cliff! Gyu, please, I'm sorry,"

"You left me to die!" the spider roared, "I burned and all you say is sorry? Do you know what they did, Y/N? They tortured me! When they dragged me down into the flames, they tore me apart and broke me and put me back together again just to keep going! As I screamed, they laughed! So now," The Beomgyu Spider paused to smile, "Now I'm going to torture you."

Before you could even register what was happening, the Beomgyu Spider raised four of its claws and arched into a pouncing position. The Beomgyu Spider hissed, baring its fangs, and leapt forwards.

SQUELCH. The Beomgyu Spider froze mid-jump, blood splattering from its body. You blinked and looked down at the creature: the little colour it had on its skin faded away, and the carcus deflated like a dying flower. The wooden stake in its body dug deep into the ground where it landed.

You blinked again, looking back up. You stared at Taehyun, "thanks." he shrugged like it was no big deal: "guess trees are what kills these bastards. Here." and he tore off a branch from an oak tree, handing it over to you. Then he took one for himself. You watched Taehyun approach Hueningkai and a Taehyun Spider before turning to your brother, who was facing a Y/N Spider.

Taehyun spoke with a leveled voice, "Soobin, it's not real. It is real, but it's not your sister, okay? Look at it, hyung. It has eight legs. Does Y/N have eight legs? No, she has two and she barely uses them." advancing on the spider, you glared at Taehyun with daggers in your eyes.

Soobin frowned and the trance faltered, "she does use t - them," then he turned back to the Y/N Spider, who continued to taunt him: "you're such a horrible brother, Soobin. You can't even look after your sister properly. You can't protect her from her stepdad and you can't prevent her from getting kidnapped, either. Beomgyu was right, you are doing a shit job at it. You're such a bad brother that you don't deserve to even be a brother in the first place -"

SQUELCH. The spider exploded, its blood splattering everywhere. Pulling the creature off Soobin, he stared at you as you pulled him into a tight hug, wrapping your arms around his waist, standing on your tiptoes to look up at him, tears in your eyes.

"Soobin, it's not true. You're the best big brother I've ever had. Our stepdad wasn't your fault and this wasn't either. Okay?" Soobin looked down at you and took a deep breath, "okay." There was silence for a while, then Yeonjun cleared his throat loudly: "come on, guys. There's still a lot of forest we have to cover. Let's get going before it gets dark."

summary: derry, maine, 1989. there have been a collection of missing persons cases, but that doesn't stop the losers club from having fun. y/n and her friends are determined to have a good time, and nothing is going to get in their way. genre: fluff, crack, it 2017 au. pairing: choi beomgyu x reader

prev <- next -> series masterlist -> series playlist -> add yourself to the taglist! (or send an ask to be tagged)

tags: @fictional-character-whore; @fourthirtyone-am; @wooyukh; @sweetrainwrites; @pinkheadflowers; @wonclusion; @wh4txium1n; @yolk-ashi; @kac-chowsballs; @chillfilms; @epiphany-beom; @erosoobin; @soobin-chois; @ibunnyw0n; @the7thcrow; @solarswonderland; @yeonwon; @biuebinnie; @strawbrinkofdeath; @beomgyugyu; @jenowithjaem

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wasabito · 4 years ago

Text

had so much fun writing for my baby boy tendou, so here’s my entry for the hqhq sfw server collab! be sure to check out the rest on the masterlist found here! enjoy ✨

words: 3.0k

prompt: “you woke me up at 3am for this?”

synopsis: your neighbor is ridiculous, kind of annoying and little bit on the weird side, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

You had to be the biggest idiot on the planet—an obvious exaggeration, yes, but you were still inclined to believe it was true.

How else could you explain the feeling of being so utterly fed up with one’s actions like this? Were there enough words in the dictionary to describe just how exhausted you were by your own antics, more specifically, your forgetfulness since that’s what had landed you in a world of pain and embarrassment?

The answer was no.

You sat with your back pressed against your front door, head in your hands and chin tucked between your raised knees and chest. At your side was your wallet along with stacks of newspapers, coupons and whatever else had been stuffed in your mailbox, bills probably. Advertisements too. Honestly, it was hard to be happy about a new restaurant opening up down the block when you were currently stuck—locked out of your apartment to be precise.

The landlord of your cheap little complex wasn’t expected to be back for another hour according to the sign posted outside of his office. So until then, you’d remain posted up by your doorstep like some loiterer.

You shifted in place and blew a puff of air from your lips, feeling little pinpricks in your legs. For the fifth time in the last forty-five minutes you felt like kicking yourself, hard.

The sun hung low, nearly touching the distant horizon signifying the end of another day. Even the sky was painted a warm umber, casting dim shadows.

“Locked out, huh?” came a snide, but accented voice.

It took you way longer than necessary to realize that suddenly you weren’t the only person on this floor. God, where was your head at?

A pair of forest green crocs stood before you, complete with a few odd charms and trinkets. A cartoon volleyball, pinned next to a smiley face, a donut and a gaudy “i heart paris” chain dangling from the ankle strap. A person’s shoes could say a lot about who they were...your mother thought so, at least.

Resisting the urge to projectile vomit all over this stranger’s rather questionable taste in footwear, your wary gaze panned upward, glossing over white tube socks and a pair of the longest legs you’ve ever seen on a person—yet another exaggeration. You came face to face with a crooked smile. Curious ruby eyes returned your stare with almost the same amount of scrutiny.

Who the hell was this guy?

Mystery-man easily towered over you, and not only because you were hunched over and sitting. He was tall as hell, all lanky build, gangly arms and legs disguising lithe muscle and a surprisingly sturdy frame. He looked like the i-run-every-morning type; semi-athletic at the very least. His buzzed hair was the color of cinnamon, no that wasn’t right, paprika maybe? Either way, it contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, so much so that you could see the faint blue of the veins in his arms.

“Yoohooo, anybody hooome?” He tilted his head at you.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah, I’m locked out. I forgot my key inside and Mr. Laurent won’t be back until later.”

“Hmm. That sucks...”

“...Um… do I… do I know you or something? You look a little familiar.”

He pinned you with a funny look, before pulling out a set of keys from the back pocket of his shorts.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t~ I mean we are neighbors, after all.” Laughing as if he’d made some sort of joke, he entered his apartment with a twirl and a dramatic wave of his arms.

You stared at his door for a solid minute, only to finally succumb to your urges and facepalm at your own idiocy. Of course he looked familiar, how could he not when he literally lived four feet away.

With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for another hour spent sitting outside your front door. It wasn’t like there was any other place you could go or anyone you could call. The battery icon on your phone blinked red, warning that it was soon to run out of juice. Guess that meant no Among Us or Subway Surfer for you.

Five minutes later, the door next to you opened. It was Mystery-man again, but this time, he sat in front of his door, just like you were. And he did so with a bag of pretzels and a jar of nutella in hand.

“Must be bored out here by yourself.” He crunched on a pretzel before offering you the bag to take some. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya company.”

You weren’t sure why, but there was something about this guy that intrigued you. You half-wondered if it was the funny little curl of his smile, or the wideness of his eyes that made it seem like he was looking at all of you, all at once.

"You must be pretty bored...uh,"

"Satori Tendou, but most people call me Tendou. Miracle boy works just fine too."

"Right... Tendou, as I was saying, you must be incredibly bored to come sit out here with me. You sure you don't have anything important to do?"

Tendou's grinned widened. "Positive! And it costs me nothing to be neighborly, so don't even sweat it."

That was...nice of him?

If sitting outside with you was the way he wanted to spend his late Tuesday afternoon who were you to deny him? And truthfully, you didn't mind the company, at least not really. Provided this guy wasn't some creepy-stalker-weirdo, you were sure there wasn't any harm in getting to know the person who lived one door over.

"So, Tendou, how long have you lived in the area? You don't really look like you're from around here...I could be wrong."

Tendou raised a thin brow at you. "Weeeell, if you're asking about how long I've lived next door, it would be about three maybe four months give or take, but if you're asking how long I've lived in Paris, it would be a year next month. Speaking of, I think Semisemi has a birthday coming up..."

You watched as he pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at the illuminated glass screen. You couldn't help but notice the goofy little anime stickers on his phone case. One in particular caught your attention.

“Is that...Kirara? From Inuyasha??”

“Oho! So, you recognize this?”

Backtracking, you mumble out, “Ah, well…only a little.” Though your face was turned away, the tiny smile on your lips was not hidden from Tendou and he thought you were pretty cute.

Funnily enough, what you had expected to be a rather unnerving and possibly creepy exchange turned out to be anything but. Tendou was incredibly fun to talk to—a bit teasing and a little overwhelming with his superfluous hand movements and gestures. But he was funny and a lot kinder that you would’ve given him credit for.

You learned that he was originally from Japan; it explained his accented French. He had come to Paris right out of high school to study culinary arts in one of the most renowned countries for it. Now he worked as a chocolatier, under the tutelage of a master patisserie in the city, an older man who was both a creative genius and a thorn in Tendou’s side. Tendou spoke of his teacher with equal parts awe and annoyance.

And he got to know you too. How you’d found yourself in Paris, thousands of miles away from home in an effort to rediscover yourself in the city full of rich history and culture.

You didn’t have many friends here, and it truly was a pleasure to make his acquaintance.

Soon, you both heard the telltale sound of jangling keys as your landlord rounded the corner with his clipboard in hand. Once you were able to get your door open, you waved a goodbye to Tendou.

“Thanks for keeping me company, you really didn’t have to.”

“No biggie, it was fun!” He threw a mischievous little grin and a peace-sign over his shoulder and reentered his apartment.

You found yourself wanting to cross paths with him again, and hopefully in better circumstances. But you hadn't known your wishful thinking was soon to manifest as you ambled through grocery store aisles a week later, eyeing down any items with pictures on it.

“Why in the hell is this toilet paper so expensive.” You mumbled.

“So, you complain about the price of toilet paper, but wear sneakers that cost two-thirds our rent.” That voice sounded familiar, and after hearing it for about an hour just days ago, you were a bit surprised you could recognize it so quickly.

Stunned, you looked up to find Satori Tendou, your quirky neighbor with an arm full of pita chips, a milk carton, and baby carrots.

“I never said I made the best choices.” You found yourself smiling despite the previous crease in your brow. “...Dude, get a cart before you drop everything.”

Instead of getting his own, he simply dumped what he had into your cart with a teasing grin. You couldn’t argue with his logic there. Tendou sidled up against you, once again towering over you with a kind of ease that should be criminal. “Need help reading something?”

You wanted to say no. You almost said no. But swallowing your pride, you gave a weak nod. “Yeah, this word right here.” Pointing to the unfamiliar script printed on the label. “What the heck is this?”

“Weeeeell, looks like that brand is scented, ya know, for when ya—”

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence...please.”

You quickly grab what you need and continue on down the aisle with Tendou following closely behind.

Just like when you’d first met him, he made conversation the entire way. By the time you both made it to the cash registers, you’d argued at least three times over french pronunciations and whether cashews were the cousin of peanuts.

And just as last time, he left you with a grin and a peace-sign while you stared after his retreating back, paid groceries in hand.

After an entire day spent baking, you found yourself on Tendou’s doorstep with a tupperware full of baked goodies later the next evening. You had been meaning to thank him for being such a good neighbor to you. It was certainly unexpected, but a welcome gesture nonetheless.

You only had to knock twice before the door was wrenched open and you were greeted with the set of...vanilla? Some pop song played in the background while your neighbor looked at you curiously.

"H-Hey Tendou, I um...I baked you these." You held out the plastic container, hoping he'd simply take it from you without question and you could return to your apartment without somehow embarrassing yourself. "There's a little bit of everything in there, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, macadamia nut—wait you aren't allergic to anything, right?"

"Nooope! Not a thing, thanks neighbor!"

"It was no problem, especially since you've helped me, not once but twice now."

Frowning, you couldn't help but be a little upset with yourself. You'd come to France to prove that you could, in fact, live a normal life outside of your family’s jurisdiction but day by day you were proving to need them more and more.

It was disappointing, to say the least.

"Hmm, what’s with the constipated look on your face. Did the toilet paper not help?” Tendou tilted his head at you with a teasing grin, lips curled at the edges, taunting. You blinked up at him, surprised, and if you were honest, a little annoyed too.

"Hah?!"

"Just thought it was worth a mention, nighty-night~!"

Tendou proceeded to shut the door on you; one hand rested on the frame and the other held on to the cookies. You quickly took a step back lest he chop your entire arm off, ready to trudge off in the direction of your own home but not before sticking your tongue out at him.

Stupid Tendou, always saying stupid shit.

You were on the couch, half asleep when it dawned on you that it had been his own twisted, “Tendou” way of cheering you up.

The rest of the month passed just like that. Occasionally, you would bump into Tendou at the grocery store, or the leasing office, or even the laundromat. And every single time, he’d either make you laugh until your sides hurt or annoyed enough to want to give him a friendly punch. At one point, you two had even exchanged phone numbers, because according to Tendou “it was ridiculous not to have your friends on speedial” which only led to hours spent on Facetime or playing iMessage games.

You knew exchanging numbers would come back to bite you in the ass, it was only a matter of when.

It was clear you weren’t going to any sleep tonight, that was for sure. The incessant buzzing of your cell phone every five minutes was an enemy to your circadian rhythm. You could name on one hand those in your contacts with enough sense to know that you lived in a completely different time zone from them now.

Somehow your neighbor was the very last person you suspected, but it was his contact photo that stared back at you, goofy looking grin and all. You squinted against the brightness of your screen in your otherwise dark bedroom.

you up?

come quick

gotta show ya somethin

come oooon

you're awake, i know you are

It took you less than a minute to shuffle on a pair of slippers, grab your keys (you weren't going to forget them this time) and slip out of your apartment.

You hadn't even knocked twice before the door was pulled open. Tendou looked a mess, more so than usual. Unidentified stains littered the apron looped around his thin waist, streaks of what you hoped were just flour and granulated sugar were all over his hands. You almost wanted to ask if he was baking or dealing dope.

“You woke me up at three in the morning...for this?”

“Yuuup!”

"When I said you could call me at any time, I really didn’t mean any time.” You scratch your side, a contemplative look on your face at the sight of Tendou in what you would assume to be his pajamas. An old volleyball hoodie with the words "Shirazorizawa" printed across the front, and old sweats the were so obviously cut with scissors at the knee.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a curt, “Alright, move aside.”

Tendou ushered you over to his kitchen where several of his cooking supplies laid on the island, along with a tray of some chocolate dessert spread.

“It’s all still in the testing phase, but I think I’m onto something here.”

He was definitely giving off “mad scientist” vibes. You tried not to snort.

Holding a small chocolate cake in his hand, he smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Open wide."

You obeyed, far too tired to argue, and let him pop the treat into your mouth. Tendou watched as you chewed, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. His wide gaze carefully took in every shift in your expression.

"So? Whaddya think?"

"I...," You chewed a bit more. "...It's delicious! Is that—"

"—Pistachio, why yes it is!"

Tendou was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. "It takes the entire thing to a whole new level."

You had to agree with him there. This was probably the best chocolate madeleine you'd ever tasted. "Great work, miracle boy. Will you be introducing this new recipe to Claude?"

Mentioning his teacher seemed to sober him up a bit. "Ehh, maybe? The old man's a bit of traditionalist, so I'll just have to figure out a way to get him to approve."

"Maybe try calling him at three in the morning?"

Tendou stuck his tongue out at you before popping a dessert in his mouth. The pure delight on his face was so contagious, you found yourself smiling just the same. You couldn’t help but admire his passion.

“Hey, Tendou… do you like your job?”

He blinked at you, chewing coming to a slow halt. “Well of course! The pay isn’t the best just yet, but it’s a labor of love. I’m willing to put my all into it at least.”

“Huh… that’s pretty cool.” You wiped your fingers on a nearby rag. “I hope to feel the same one day… if I can figure out what I wanna do.”

“Why not bake? You’re pretty good at it.”

“Oh am I? Last week you said my baking needed some work.”

“Well, duh, but my standards when it comes to confectionaries are impossibly high. Even so, I think you’d be successful as a baker. What’s stopping you from pursuing your labor of love?”

And that was the thing with Tendou. He talked a lot, teased even more, but it was never idle ramblings. Somehow, he always seemed to hit right at the heart of the issue with almost painfully uncomfortable accuracy.

“I don’t really know so…” You looked away, trailing off.

“Either way,” he said and placed a finger under your chin, raising your head until you were looking him in the eye. “I’m rooting for you.”

For a moment, you simply stared, awestruck. It was the first time in a long while someone was actually putting their faith in you, believing in you. He had come blazing into your life unabashed with his easy grins and gaze alight with mischief. His encouraging words, sincerity, sensitivity. Tendou was really incredible.

“Tendou…” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Of course, what are neighbors for.”

BONUS:

Three months later you sat curled up next to Tendou on his sofa, his entire apartment smelled of chocolate cocoa with hints of cinnamon.

Before you was an application. Culinary school.

“You really think I can do this?”

Tendou placed his head on your shoulder with a tiny smirk. “One hundred and twenty percent!”

You pondered for a moment, then decided that if he thought you were up for the challenge then you’d believe him.

“For the record, you probably aren’t supposed to recommend your girlfriend for an interview. You know, conflict of interest and all.”

Tendou laughed and pulled you closer. “Trust me, we’ll be fine, so don’t worry your pretty little head, ‘kay?”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #tendou x reader #tendou satori #satori tendou #satori tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #sabi.writes

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