#but trust that it comes from my heart and horn still

[fractalkiss]

I wish you would write a fic where...

Lance isn't a driver, but Fernando is still his hero.

took me a while to figure something out for this in an angle that i would like to think about. but.. rule63! girl lancenando in the 2000's where lance isn't a driver but still dreams of racing (rated M under the cut):

She turns twenty-five on Monday really, but the cake is there anyway. Ribbon-piped vermillion and curled flowers around it with strings of pink icing on top that says Happy 25th. The decorative candle is in a similar loopy font, not the chunky kind. Chloe must have picked it out. Dad would have gone with the classic kids-party-cute, and Lance would have taken it in stride for the joke that it would have been from Dad had she still been sixteen.

Her birthday is on Monday, but it's the weekend, and people are here. Esteban is in his pink and navy team shirt after running from the motorhome to the restaurant they’re huddled in, slouched forward and clutching the backrest of the chair that Mick is sitting in. By the frosted glass windows, Alex is beaming an awkward but nonetheless shit-eating smile, her highlights still visible even in the backlight and Georgie’s there with her shoulders perfectly prim and poised while she’s stirring the straw of another (Alex’s) drink. They didn't have to show up, as quiet as this thing was meant to be while they’re at Monaco for the grand prix; there's appreciation there bubbling up in Lance anyway seeing Georgie trying to get day-drunk on an aperol spritz even when she could have made up a thousand and one excuses not to accept Lance's cordial invitation through an IM.

It goes like this: Count the number of girls who frequented a karting track at twelve and still see years later at an F1 grand prix and you’d hold up just one hand. Count the number of reasons you don't grow out of that, and it’s the same thing.

Somewhere over people’s heads, Lance’s mom is ushering someone closer. Through the glow of the candle flame in front of her, Lance sees a flash of Fernando’s squared, dimpled smile behind her mother before someone pats her gently to look back at the cake—"Come on, hon, make a wish," Dad says, and Lance will decide not to close her eyes. She wants this to be quick.

Fernando is helping her mother for the cutting, apparently. It’s how Lance looks up when Fernando holds out a plate of cake for her.

“You look a bit red,” Fernando comments, and Lance rolls her eyes. “Your mama says this is already small enough.”

“Wouldn’t have been a surprise if it wasn't,” Lance mutters through her strained smile.

"It is nice. Este is here, and your old boy the Schumacher."

"Oh whatever." Lance's own cheeks have only just stopped heating up. People are dispersing around them, going back to their own conversations, but it’s as if Lance can still feel them watching. She hears her father, chuckling along with other men as she takes the plate from Fernando to finally stick a forkful of ice cream cake in her mouth.

Fernando makes a soft noise beside her. “Seems your father will want to talk again,” she says, though she makes no move to get up, her legs stretched out in front of her like this is her small surprise party and not Lance's. The ends of her cargos brush the floor and the khaki grey looks pretty darn drab rather than understated, but Fernando pulls it off somehow.

“Ugh. I’ll say that we’re talking,” Lance offers pleasantly.

Fernando gives her a sideways look. “Are we?”

“We are,” Lance insists, and improvises, “The fundraiser’s doing well. And I asked, about new karts.”

Fernando barks out a silent laugh, more punch of air than anything but her eyes are warm. “We can do with more race kits also. We're fixing it up again, stronger barriers around the track, the tarmac is not so good, still.”

Lance hooks a strand of hair out of her face and huffs, “Well, that's new.”

Fernando’s laid on her liner a little stronger today, the softness of it creasing around her eyes as she grins. “See? Today should not be for this kind of talk, m'ija.”

"But I want to know," Lance says plainly, "Like, you know…Saturdays at the school, and the karters—" Whether the school was doing well, if there was any more help Lance and her father could give, whether Fernando's little niece went back to the track after skidding off and giving the scare of her mother's life.

The din of the restaurant isn't nearly loud enough for her to say it. Fernando is doing that thing with her hand where she's absently kneading circles into the arm of the chair with her thumb, a freshly healed patch of tanned skin there past the knuckle. Lance wants to ask when her next stint will be—as if she hasn't been watching every rally and Le Mans, each rare Formula One test session that Fernando gets to do, but as it goes—Lance still gets nervous around Fernando, for obvious reasons.

"Do you want to talk, later?" Fernando asks, like she's talking to something very small. The cloying sweetness from the cake sticks beneath Lance's tongue anyway, and her crossed legs feel tight and a little clenched in her seat. Fernando's perched herself almost still in her seat, her pants bunched a little over the crotch area; she moves her hand over Lance's bare knee, her calloused fingertips warm enough that Lance stops fiddling with the fine charm on her own bracelet.

"Later?" Fernando says again.

"Sure," Lance says.

*

When Fernando asked her whose picture from Autosport would Lance have cut out for safekeeping, Lance had smiled her sweetest and pretended like she wasn't kicking her feet at metaphorical pillows inside her in a sick squirm of panic and flattery over being asked. She'd told Fernando that she already owned a pristine vintage issue that contained a special on Sarah Fisher. It wasn't a lie—she did have the magazine, and Susie's issue too before her last name became Wolff, but as it goes, Lance gets nervous. The things she did to hide it only made her sound hollow and ruefully unimpressed, the kind of thing that used to hurt Mick's feelings a little bit years ago when they'd gone on dates. She's not proud of that. Esteban had to awkwardly offer tissues the first time she cried about it, frustrated at herself more than anything, really, a symptom of being clueless and seventeen.

She's in Fernando's hotel room now, and climbing onto the bed. The air-conditioning is turned on low, but there's a tingle down her spine anyway at the cool air hitting her skin. She's undressed down to her one of her nicest most comfortable lace sets. 

"It's for me," Lance mumbles, when Fernando comes out of the bathroom and gives her a once-over. 

"It's nice," Fernando just offers, and Lance feels herself huff. The muscles in her stomach tense for a second anyway, at the soft slight rasp of Fernando's voice. Anyone else would probably make Lance bored, would have made her automatically just, like switch on, to a performance.

Fernando's eyes are darker now as Lance tries to shimmy herself up farther and nudge at Fernando's leg with her foot to hurry up. "It's my birthday," Lance reminds her with a grin.

"And then another birthday on Monday, no?" Fernando counters. The lampshades here throw half her face in shadow, her jaw more pronounced while she's smiling a little. Her hand runs up the inside of Lance's thigh, finally. All Lance can notice now is how easily Fernando still moves in those baggy khaki pants, and how easy it'd be for her to be comfortable with it.

Lance brushes her foot over the inseam, and she feels it; Fernando was packing today. For how long, Lance doesn't know, but throughout the entire party earlier, for sure.

"Could you—" she starts, and moves forward to touch, but Fernando is already unbuttoning the pants, and getting out the silicone cock that slips out from the harness underwear, curved and a shade lighter than Fernando's skin. Lance wants to feel that brushing the back of her throat.

"That can wait," Fernando says, but Lance moves in, her mouth dry enough that saliva gathers fast, the fabric of her own panties starting to stick already with a wetness.

Last year, Lance had gotten down to eye the dark patch of Fernando's boxer briefs for the first time; Fernando had stroked through her hair to gently tilt her face back up. Lance hadn't collected a physical copy of the tiny piece that Fernando was in as featured Girl of the Year in motorsport; to do that, would have felt cheapened, somehow. Fernando is her own person—her stocky hands, solid and real and cupping the back of Lance's head back then and pulling her hair while she'd laughed, fine, princesa, fine, the sound rumbling against Lance's fingertips on Fernando's rib. Lance put herself to work for licking the wet folds of her cunt in a way that she hadn't ever for a blowjob with a boy.

"I want to," Lance tells her, and Fernando props up her face this time, fingers under her chin; she leans down swiftly for a kiss, quick and sweet.

"Then you'll lay back after, and I'll eat you out, and fuck you for as long as I want," Fernando promises, thumb rubbing Lance's pulse along her jaw, and Lance lets her eyes flutter close. ---

from the ask game: send me a summary of what you wish i'd write

[dark-moonlust]

Cοckwarming Minοtaur PART 1: Office

I’m turning this imagine into a series!!!!

Pairing: Minotaur x f!human reader

Summary: your Minotaur boyfriend Balen is madly in love with you. And he has a wicked little obsession with cockwarming. He always finds excuses to have you sit on his lap. Even when you are at work.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, semi-public workplace smut, Minotaur huge🍆, cοckwarming, lots of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

This is a series and you can find more here.

You loved your Minotaur boyfriend, Balen.

The two of you had met three years ago at a workplace friendly to both monsters and humans. Balen was your superior, and you had just started working as his secretary. From the very first meeting, you had felt something deep and strong connecting him to you. You were attracted to him, incredibly aroused and in need of him. Balen had explained that it was the mating bond, a sacred bond that tied his heart to yours. Since then, you’d decided to give your relationship a chance and be together.

Your relationship was based on mutual trust and security, a connection deeper and stronger than you’d ever experienced.

Fast forward to the present, you still loved him like crazy, your relationship never better.

Balen was a fascinating presence in your life. Despite his towering and unusual appearance, your Minotaur was tender and sweet. You saw past his different appearance and found something deep and poignant with him. He cared for you better than any human boyfriend would — and fucked you with a passion that left you breathless.

Balen was madly in love with you. And he had a wicked little obsession with cockwarming. He was obsessed with the feel of you, the security of holding you in his arms while his cock pulsed inside you. And he always found excuses to have you sit on his lap, his cock thrust up your depths as he resumed his day as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

During shopping? During work? During lunch, dinner or any time of the day. Yes to all. Balen somehow made it work.

At work, he was particularly demanding when cockwarming him. Coworkers might enter his office, but he kept you there, your neat dress hiding your flushed face and betraying your state. Sometimes he played with your clit and made you cum, other times, he just stayed inside you and made work calls and reviewed business files. And when he finally pulled out of you, it was always with the promise to find a way to be close to you later.

That morning, you were in your office working on a presentation for an important project. You’d finished it with ease and were eager to share your ideas with your boss and colleagues. As you sat at your desk, typing away at your computer, the phone rang.

Called ID: Mr. Balen - Office.

You had an idea of what this call was about.

“Hello,” you answered casually.

“Come to my office,” your boyfriend said, his voice deep and throaty. “I need to check the progress of your presentation.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You complied, standing up and making your way to his spacious office. You knocked and entered discretely.

And there he was.

Seated at his magnificent mahogany desk, the sheer size of him dwarfed the surrounding furniture. Balen’s hulking form filled the room, his presence overwhelming. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit, the clothing tailored to fit his immense size. He was at least three times bigger than you, his body chiseled with muscles and silky fur. His head was crowned with a pair of curved horns, his face a captivating combination of beast and man. Upon seeing you, his dark eyes lit up and he let out a deep rumble, vibrating from his chest.

“Come here,” he said, his voice casual but demanding.

“I’ve brought my presentation,” you said but as soon as you were inches from him, he pulled you to him, his hands lifting your dress and guiding you to sit on his lap.

“Balen,” you whined as he quickly tugged away your panties, a finger finding its way inside you. You were drenched, wet from the earlier fuck he’d given you during the car ride to work. You clutched his broad shoulders, burying your face in his chest and biting your lips as that wickedly perfect digit stretched your walls, preparing you for his cock.

Soon, you felt him shift, unzipping his trousers and freezing his monstrous cock. Your Minotaur sported a dick unlike any other. It was long and curved, thick and surrounded by protruding veins. The head was broad and leaking pre-cum, his balls round and swollen, the poor babies squeezed between his legs.

Strong hands cupped your ass, positioning you over his raging girth. The cockhead nudged your entrance, coaxing your pussy lips apart and slowly invading your depths. With a slow, deliberate upward thrust, he buried himself inside you, a low groan of satisfaction rumbling from his chest. Your belly bulged from the sheer girth of him inside you. You moaned lewdly but quickly muffled your cries by biting his shoulder. He loved it when you did that.

“So good for me. Just for a little bit, baby, okay?” he murmured, his hands resting possessively on your hips. “I need this.”

You nodded, trying to control your breathing as you adjusted to the invasion and stretch. Balen resumed his work, one large hand rubbing your ass from under your dress while the other resumed his work, moving expertly over his keyboard as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He even studied your presentation while you struggled to focus with the constant feel of his cock stretching your pussy.

“Excellent work with your presentation,” he praised, “you covered every important point.”

“Th…thank you,” you murmured, running your fingers through the exposed fur at his neck.

You wiggled a little, desperate for release and rubbed your clit against him. His hand on your ass pressed you closer against him, thrusting just barely inside you. He did it again and again, rewarding you for taking his dick so well. A few minutes later, the friction against your clit was perfect and you came, your walls contracting hard around his cock. You bit his shoulder to muffle your cries and Balen followed, releasing pump after pump of his load inside you. He was surprisingly quiet and reserved, but you knew his passion was great; his heartbeat was erratic.

“Good girl,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against you.

It was at that moment, that a coworker knocked on the door. You clutched your boyfriend, your heart racing. Balen remained calm, his hands steady as he continued to work and bid the coworker to enter. The coworker, a male werewolf, entered, used to the sight of you hugging your boyfriend and what was happening beneath your neat clothing. Everyone in the office knew of your relationship and the demands of your minotaur boyfriend. Balen had made it so everyone respected you no matter what.

Balen and the werewolf discussed business as usual, while your face flushed with the effort of maintaining composure. Balen’s cock was throbbing inside you, his seed overflowing even if he was buried balls deep inside you. Once the coworker left, Balen kissed you, his tongue brushing against your lips before thrusting into your mouth. He tasted every crevice of your mouth and then drew back, a hint of a grin on his bull face.

“You did well,” he drawled, his voice thick with pride.

“Don’t I always?” you teased sweetly.

“Always.” He pressed you closed against him, his cock kissing so deep inside you that you groaned. “I love you mate. Love your beautiful smile, your lovely heart and your pretty little pussy.”

You smiled. “I love you, too, my horny minotaur.”

“Hmmm…” he growled. “You are my everything, little mate and it seems I can’t function without you.”

“Balen…” you trailed off, winching as more of his seed tricked down your thighs. “We made a mess. Shouldn’t we—”

“It’s alright, my love,” he said. “There are clothes in the cabinet. I always keep spares for both.”

Did you enjoy? Follow for more! Click to get notified when I update. I’ll post PART 2 as soon as I can!

[0ccuria]

Wanted to do Halsin as a young cub coming into his Druidry, with a familiar friend to wish him well. (not to worry, the face tat is just paint here)

also wrote a little blurb (791 words) to accompany it under the cut!

“Alright. You can do this – relentless studies do not fail me now.” A young Halsin told himself, alone within a small grotto. It was time for him to prove his knowledge to his elder peers. He had been preparing for months, nights after long nights of arduous studying of old tomes and hours long meditations. His hands buzzed with a cocktail of anxiety and excitement as he quietly rehearsed his teachings.

He pressed a loosely closed fist to his chest and bowed his head, “Oak Father, grant me courage to excel through the trials this Circle has bestowed upon me. I trust no other counsel but yours.”

A moment passed as he reflected on his prayer, but was soon interrupted by a magical disturbance in the air. A faint golden light flashed behind Halsin that grabbed his attention. Suddenly, an apparition of a young boy with a familiar pair of horns materialized before him.

“No other’s, hm?” It said, hands on its hips.

Halsin’s eyes widened at the sight, “...Thaniel?!” He shouted in shock.

His best and only friend to ever grace his company stood there in front of his very eyes. When was the last time he had been so lucky? The teachings and training of the Circle had regrettably pulled Halsin away from seeking out Thaniel’s connection for some time. Immediately, Halsin set his hands upon the boy’s shoulders, lightly gripping them.

“It’s really you! Why are you...” he shook his head, “I’m so sorry, I have neglected you for too long. I hope you can forgive me.” He pleaded.

“But, why?” Thaniel replied, perplexed. “Don’t apologize for following the path that nature has set before you.” An assuring smile stretched his cheeks.

Halsin bit his lower lip to quell his heart from welling up over the sudden mixture of emotions. He then nodded and retrieved his hands. “Yes, you’re right.” He sighed, “I only wish I could have you at my side, always. It has become rather lonely on walks without your little shadow trailing behind me.”

Thaniel skipped over to a moss covered slab and sat upon it, crossing his legs and holding onto his ankles. He swayed back and forth, unable to keep still. “As do I, but we all must fall into the whirlwind of change at some point in our lives, and like the branch of a tree, there will be many more paths that you will have to decide to take for yourself. Nature is not-”

“Stationary.” Finished Halsin.

The two smiled at each other before sharing a giggle, still able to finish each other’s sentences. The young Druid then joined Thaniel for a seat, leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees. Thaniel then set his head against Halsin’s shoulder, which had certainly grew in size the last he had seen him.

“Don’t fret, Hal, I have been trailing behind – I always will be. Wherever there is a breeze in the air, you will be content to know that it’s me checking in on you.” The boy said. “I know you will become a great Druid – I could see no other better to protect nature. You got this.”

Halsin’s lip quivered, breaking loose to the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He sniffled and wiped his eyes as he let the wave pass through, “Heh. Oh, how I have missed your kind words, thank you, truly. I will take that to heart as long as I live.”

He wrapped his arm around the boy, pulling him into a tighter hug before releasing him. “...Will you sit with me for a moment longer before I have to go? I think there is still time.” He asked.

With a sudden puff of glittery mist that startled Halsin, Thaniel teleported to the other side of the grotto that lead outside and stood there with his arms crossed, “I have a better idea…” a smirk crossed his lips.

Halsin knew of what he spoke of; a game of chase they had always enjoyed. “Are you sure?” He daringly asked. “I’ve become quite fast these days!” He continued, accepting the challenge. He then got up into a half crouched stance, holding his hands out beside him to pull nature's blessing from the soil below to conjure himself into the wildshape of a wolf. Once on all fours, he vigorously shook as if he were wet in order to acclimate himself to the form. Thaniel stood ready to run, awaiting Halsin to come after him.

“Let me be the judge of that!” The boy shouted, tauntingly.

With an elated howl, Halsin charged towards Thaniel, who swiftly darted away as the unmistakable shrill of a child’s laughter and the clacking of claws on stone faded into the distance.

[iamnotoriginalphil]

A Helping Hand (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You accidentally drag Melissa into a ruse in order to stop your friends from setting you up on any more blind dates

Words: 7.2k

Warnings: some self esteem issues, mentions of an age gap

“Trust me. This time I’ve found you the perfect date,” Carter said, pulling up outside Abbott.

“Not necessary,” you replied.

The last perfect date he’d set you up on had been a disaster. Not that you’d particularly wanted to go on the date to begin with. Your friends kept trying to solve your perpetual singledom, but what you hadn’t told them was you were holding out while working up the courage to ask out the one person you really wanted to.

“Why?” he asked, turning to look at you.

“Because…” You were about to regret the words that came out of your mouth, “I’m already seeing someone.”

“Who?” he asked, leaning towards you.

A loud banging came from the window. You jumped, turning to look behind you. Red hair shone in the morning sunlight and green eyes were peering in, looking less than pleased.

“Oi, you coming? The news will be on soon,” Melissa called through the glass at you.

“Yeah, just give me a minute,” you called back.

When you turned back around, Carter’s eyes had widened, flicking from you to her back to you. You froze.

“Is that her?” he asked.

“What?” you scoffed, “no. Look, I have to go.”

His hand shot you, grabbing your wrist.

“That’s who you’re seeing?” he demanded.

“Fine. It’s her. But it’s really new so don’t… tell anyone,” you whispered, “please don’t make a big deal about this.”

“She’s hot,” he said, looking over your shoulder.

You turned too. Melissa was still there, arms crossed, scowling at the car. You sighed, turning back to Carter.

“I have to go. But don’t you dare mention this to anyone. I don’t need you lot messing this up before it’s even something,” you hissed at him.

“Sure, sure,” he said, gently ruffling your hair, “go see your girl.”

You sighed, stepping out of the car. You slammed the car door shut with a little more aggression than you usually would use but you were tired and you didn’t even realise the can of worms you’d opened with a little white lie.

“You okay?” Melissa asked, falling into step beside you.

A car horn sounded behind you. You glared over your shoulder at Carter who was grinning at you.

“Fine,” you said, “just dickhead friends.”

The news helped calm you down and by lunch you’d forgotten all about your lie to Carter. Sitting by her at lunch, you were reminded of the way she made your heart beat faster and your breath catch. Her voice was enough to steal your attention and the way she’d laugh enchanted you. You’d do anything to make her laugh like that.

“Hey, is there something wrong with your car?” she asked, leaning back to talk to you at the table next to hers.

“It’s in the shop,” you replied, “the engine was making a funky noise and it got so loud I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

“Who was that in the car that made you so mad?” she asked.

“Just my friend Carter. Apparently I’m now a charity case that my friends have put on a roster of car pooling,” you said.

The way she looked at you had you shifting in your seat.

“What?” you asked.

“You ain’t a charity case,” she said.

“Okay.” You weren’t sure what she was trying to say.

She nodded , turning back to her lunch. Nothing had made sense, and you still had no idea what she was getting at but the conversation was closed. You nodded to yourself, biting into the leftovers you’d been eating before.

After school, a significant amount of time after the dismissal bell had rung, you stepped out into the evening air, tightening your coat around your body. Carter lent forward on the horn, grinning at you as you hurried down the steps.

“Yeah yeah,” you muttered, sliding into the car.

“Isn’t that your girlfriend?”

You blinked, trying to figure out what he was talking about. You turned, finding Melissa striding towards the car, looking ready to breathe fire. It crashed back into you, the lie you’d told and how fucked you were about to be. She tore the door open.

“Come on,” she said to you.

“What?” You were looking up at her and she was staring down at you and it was like the world was dropping out beneath you.

“Come on.”

She grabbed your arm, hauling you out of the car. You barely had time to grab your bag from the floor mat. She lent forward, looking in at Carter as if he’d done something to personally offend her. That wasn’t something anyone would dare to do at Abbott.

“She won’t be needing your charity anymore,” she said before slamming the door.

Her hand curled around your elbow, marching you off towards one of the last cars left in the lot. She wasn’t explaining anything. Carter wasn’t leaving. Nothing made sense.

“Melissa, what are you doing?” you asked as she stopped to unlock the car.

“You’re no one’s charity case,” she said, “I can give you a lift.”

“So, what? I go from being my friends’ charity case to yours? I don’t see how this changes anything,” you said.

She pulled the door open for you, waiting with an expectant eyebrow raised. You sighed, taking your spot in her passenger seat. In the reflection of her rearview mirror you saw Carter approach, groaning at whatever was about to happen. They talked, Melissa’s eyes finding yours in the mirror before saying something to Carter.

She was looking at you oddly as she slid into the driver’s seat some minutes later. You were desperate to know what had been said, knowing it wouldn’t be good for you.

“Your friend asked me to come to a barbecue this weekend,” she said, staring the car, “as your new girlfriend.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. She dragged one away from you, forcing you to look at her. She hadn’t pulled out of her spot, sitting there in the idling car while you tried to tamp down your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” you said, slightly muffled from the one hand still doing its best to hide you from view.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” she asked.

“I just.” You sighed, “my friends keep setting me up on blind dates and no matter how often I tell them I’m not interested they keep doing it. So when Carter suggested I go on another one I told him I couldn’t because I’m already seeing someone and then you turned up. He asked if it was you and I… figured he’d never actually meet you so it didn’t matter. I’m sorry, I’ll tell him I lied to get him off my back.”

She pulled out of the parking lot, still not looking at you. Guilt curdled in your stomach and you didn’t know what else to say. Your head hung and you weren’t sure what to do. Maybe apologise more. Grovel for forgiveness. Melissa was not a woman to be caught up in bullshit she didn’t agree to and you’d done just that.

“I said I’d bring mac and cheese,” she said.

Your head snapped up. She still wasn’t looking at you, focusing on the road ahead, which given the driving was a good thing. Her lips curled up and you felt your cheeks heat.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said, voice small, fingers twisting in your lap.

“Do you want to go on more blind dates?” she asked.

“Not even a little bit,” you replied.

Her eyes flashed over to you then back to the road.

“You better tell me your address or you’ll never get home,” she said.

You directed her to your apartment building, not sure what else to say. She pulled up to the curb, looking up at it with a small wrinkle to her nose. Her approval was clearly lacking and that made your stomach twist again.

“Seriously Melissa,” you said as the silence stretched, “you don’t have to do this. I’ll just tell him.”

“What time should I pick you up tomorrow?” she asked.

And that was the last you talked of coming clean to your friends. She picked you up for the rest of the week as you waited for your car to be fixed, and dropped you off each night. And on Saturday, the day your friend Jenny was hosting a barbecue for Jared’s birthday, she knocked on your door rather than just sending you a one word text to get your attention.

“Hi,” you breathed out, seeing her there on the other side of your door.

Her hair was tied up, jeans and a tank top encasing her body. Casual Melissa was so very delicious, and for the afternoon she was going to be yours. It made no sense. None at all.

“How long do you think this thing’s gonna be?” she asked, pushing past into your apartment.

You followed her, watching her look over the room, eyes lingering on photos and little keepsakes. She picked up one frame, a small smile curling her lips before her expression was wiped clean.

“We don’t have to stay long,” you said, “whenever you want to go feel free to.”

“I’d never leave my girl alone,” she replied, placing the frame down again.

“Right. And I am sorry about this. Really.” You hoped she could hear the earnestness in your voice.

“Stop.” She held a hand up to you, “I’m doing this, aren’t I? If you keep apologising I’m gonna think you don’t want me to.”

“You’re being very kind,” you said, “thank you.”

“Think nothing of it, hon,” she said, “you’re my good deed for the month.”

You gave a weak laugh, picking up your container of watermelon and the cake you’d spent the previous night baking. She took them from your hands before you could ask for help. Locking the door behind you, keeping your face averted, you refused to let her see the impulse to swoon. In less than a week she’d treated you better than past girlfriends ever had.

You settled in the passenger seat, the cake resting on your lap, the wrapped present at your feet. Melissa merged into traffic, taking you closer to the party. You could feel your anxiety rising, not sure how this was going to go. Your friends and Melissa together in the same room, one believing she was your new girlfriend, the other pretending in order to help you… do what? Save face? Not go on any more awful blind dates? Use as blackmail material later down the road?

“I can hear you thinking,” she said, flicking on her indicator.

“Sorry,” you said.

“I’m not gonna give the game away,” she said, “stop worrying.”

“I just… I know you won’t,” you replied.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Why are you doing this? I’m not Barbra, you don’t… we’re not friends like that,” you said.

“Aren’t we?” She turned her head slightly, not quite towards you but not away from you.

“Are we?” You didn’t know that answer.

“Just accept the help, hon,” she sighed, and you didn’t know what the emotion in her voice was.

“Thanks Melissa,” you whispered.

She pulled up outside Jenny’s house, the balloons tied to the letterbox swaying in the air. You looked up at it, your anxiety spiking again. A warm hand landed on your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze.

“C’mon, hon,” Melissa said, “the sooner we go in the sooner you’ll see it’s all fine.”

“Right. Yeah. You’re right,” you said.

She didn’t hold your hand as you walked up to the door, nor did she try to touch you in any intentional way. She stood close enough for you to feel her warmth, but not so close that she was crowding you.

“Ready?” you asked.

Instead of answering, she adjusted her hold on both the mac and cheese she brought and the food you’d made and lent past you, knocking on the door. It took only a moment before the door was pulled open. Jenny was laughing at someone over her shoulder, before turning to look at you.

“Hey,” she said, pulling you into a hug.

You went, still feeling tense. Her eyes turned towards Melissa, interest entering her gaze. They swept over her before turning back to you.

“Is this her?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah. Jenny this is Melissa,” you said, turning to her, “Mel, this is my friend Jenny.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Jenny said.

“Yeah, you too. Where can I put this?” she asked, holding the food out to her.

“Oh, the kitchen is this way,” she said, turning on her heels to stride back into the house.

You shared a glance with Melissa before following Jenny inside. She helped Melissa place the containers of food down, looking out of the open door pointed at the backyard. Your friends were gathered, most already with some kind of drink in hand, Carter behind the grill, ominous smoke rising into the sky. Music was playing faintly and there were balloons all over the place.

“You work at Abbott too, right?” Jenny asked.

“Ya,” Melissa said and you realised that involving someone with severe trust issues of anyone she didn’t know was maybe not the best idea.

“She teaches second grade,” you said, “one of the best teachers we have.”

Her head snapped towards you, something unreadable crossing over her face before disappearing. Jenny was watching with interest and you knew you had to do better if you wanted your friends to think you weren’t perpetually single.

“Where’s Jared?” you asked, hoping to distract her from whatever was going on with you and Melissa.

“Outside,” she said, “so Melissa-“

You grabbed Melissa’s arm, tugging her towards the door before Jenny could say anything else. Out of her sight, you let her arm go, stepping down onto the grass. The air smelt of smoke and grass and summer, of days long since gone and days yet to come. You took a deep breath.

“Hey,” Carter said, jogging up to you.

“Hi,” you said, “I brought Melissa.”

“Great to see you again.” He was grinning at the two of you.

You rolled your eyes, shoving past him. Melissa followed you, right on the periphery of your vision, there but not close. Maybe that was a problem. If you were newly in a relationship would there be that much distance between you? Could you reach out and bridge the gap? You weren’t sure you could.

“Hey Jared, happy birthday.”

You thrust out the present in your hands to your friend. Tall and handsome, his charisma had meant he’d done well in life and love. In comparison, you were a hot mess. And yet growing up in neighbouring houses meant you had a friend for life it seemed.

“Thanks,” he said, a lazy smile spreading over his face, “is this the woman who’s finally taken you off the market?”

“This is Melissa,” you said, turning to look at her.

Her green eyes were narrowed and she’d crossed her arms, looking less than friendly. You sighed. You might have seen the softer side of Melissa Schemmenti but she was hardly showcasing it with your friends.

“Congrats on finally being good enough with this one,” he said, throwing an arm around your shoulders, “she’s a picky one.”

“Is she?” she raised an eyebrow.

“She has turned down every single person we’ve set her up with for three years,” he said.

“Has she?” She was looking at you with too much interest.

Hopefully she wasn’t putting two and two together. Three years ago you’d started working at Abbott and for three years all your dates were with people who weren’t her. You felt your cheeks heat up and you looked away.

“Glad to see someone broke the curse,” Jared laughed, letting you go, “get drinks. We have all kinds of stuff.”

You wandered off, waving to your friends, Melissa keeping step with you. The cooler was full of ice, drinks nestled inside. You reached down, passing her one of the bottles of beer before taking a soda for yourself. It shouldn’t have been hot watching her open the bottle, but it wasn’t often someone could do it without a bottle opener.

“Three years huh?” she asked after taking a drink from the bottle.

“My friends mean well but they have no idea what I’m looking for in a partner,” you replied with a small shrug.

“That’s a long time to not have one good date,” she said.

You shrugged again, not sure what to say. You weren’t about to admit the real reason was standing in front of you. You weren’t delusional enough to think she’d appreciate it or, god forbid, return your feelings. She could do better than you.

“Holy shit, y’all have to try this mac and cheese,” Henry called out, “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

Melissa looked towards them. You chuckled, looking down at your feet scuffing in the grass.

“What?” she asked.

“They’re never going to want to get rid of you now,” you said, “damn you and you’re mouth watering cooking.”

“My what?”

You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. She raised her own in response, waiting for an answer.

“Oh come on. You know you’re crazy good at cooking. You brag about it at least three times a week over lunch,” you said, “modesty isn’t a good look on you.”

She laughed, the kind that you desired to hear over and over again. Head thrown back, lips curling up into a beautiful smile, you stared at her doing your best not to have your feelings show all over your face. She nudged you with her shoulder, the laughter dying but her eyes sparkling.

“Jenny said you made this.”

Henry was there, holding the plate of mac and cheese, cheeks bulging from how much he’d put in his mouth. You snorted but you knew what was coming.

“If you break up with her,” he said, turning to you, “we’re taking her side.”

You snorted, “yeah, good luck with that.”

“Seriously,” he said, turning back to Melissa, “how do you do it? This is like the perfect consistency. And the flavour profile is off the charts. Do you do catering?”

“She’s a teacher, Henry. Chill out,” you said, “and I know for a fact Caroline won’t want mac and cheese at the reception. They’re getting married next year.”

That last part was for Melissa. She was growing more incredulous as the conversation continued. She stepped just half a step closer to you, her body warmth once again brushing against you. A small sigh left your lips, shoulders relaxing just a touch more.

“You ain’t getting my secret ingredient,” Melissa said, “but I’m sure I could be convinced to make it again for youse one day.”

“Convince her,” Henry said to you.

You watched him walk away, slapping Jenny’s hand away when she tried to steal some of it.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” you said, turning to look at her.

“Do what?” she asked.

“Pretend like you’re going to be around forever,” you replied, “you never have to come to another one of these things.”

“Hon, let me decide if I’ll be back. You just worry your pretty little head about having a fun time with your friends,” she said.

Warmth bloomed in your chest. Her hand slid into yours, palm brushing against palm until her fingers tangled with yours. Your heart skipped a beat, the touch of skin against skin making you feel breathless. Her smile softened, hand tightening.

“Go have fun, sweetheart,” she said, gently pushing you towards the group gathering close by.

You kept half an eye on her as you joined your friends, tracking her movements through the afternoon. She mostly kept close to the grill, and after a few false starts, seemed to charm your friends. Watching her, it only cemented that you’d made the right choice on having a crush on her, as if you’d have any chance not to.

“I like her,” Jenny said, “and you obviously do too.”

She nudged you and Jared laughed.

“Well, yeah, I’m dating her,” you said, doing your best not to trip on the word.

“And you look at her like she’s even better than her mac and cheese,” Jared said.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“You’re the definition of heart eyes,” she said, “when you look at her you get all melty and soft.”

“I do not,” you protested.

“You so do,” she laughed, “you get that dopey smile whenever you look at her.”

“And you look at her a lot,” Jared said.

You didn’t know how to refute the claim without giving the whole game away. You sighed, eyes flicking up, as they had all day, to find Melissa. She was already watching you, those green eyes shining when they met yours.

“See? That’s the expression,” Jenny crowed.

“Lucky for you, short stack,” Jared said, resting his arm around your shoulders, “she seems just as besotted with you.”

Now that was going a step too far.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Be nice,” you said, ducking out from under his arm.

Inside the house, away from the prying questions and and knowing looks, you could breath easier. You locked yourself away in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror over the sink. Your fingers clenched, thoughts racing. On the one hand it was good that you were selling the lie to your friends, on the other you hadn’t meant to show your actual feelings and didn’t want it getting back to Melissa. She’d know. Of course she’d know.

Cold water splashed up on your face and you put your game face back on. If you could keep it under wraps during school hours you could keep it under wraps now. You patted your face dry and slipped back into the house proper.

“So what’s your intentions with our girl?”

You paused just out of sight, listening in. Your friends, bless their hearts, were doing their whole Spanish Inquisition act and you couldn’t pretend like you weren’t interested in seeing how she smacked them down. There was no doubt in your mind she wouldn’t put up with their inane questions.

“I want to make her happy,” she replied and you could see the way she would be shooting them a look telling them how idiotic she found the question. As if her answer was obvious.

“Good answer,” Henry said.

“Could be practiced,” Jared said.

“Rehearsed even,” Carter said.

“Why her?” Jenny asked.

“What?” You could hear the offence settling into her voice.

“Why choose her?” Jenny asked, “and be careful. There is a right answer.”

You internally groaned, leaning against the wall. More than once someone had decided you weren’t worth it after going through this process. That the scrutiny wasn’t worth it. Melissa had to bring her A game if she was going to get through it.

“Why wouldn’t I choose her?” Melissa asked.

“She works too much,” Henry said.

“She eats too much sugar,” Jared said.

“She’s a mess,” Carter said.

“So why her?” Jenny asked.

“You say she works too much. I say she’s passionate. I haven’t seen such a talented young teacher in a long time. And yes, she eats like a kid with too much money let loose in a candy store. But she’ll share it with anyone she thinks needs it to the point where she’ll go without. And she’s not a mess. She’s doing the best she can and she’s doing it pretty damn well. I don’t know if youse don’t see her clearly enough but if that’s the only way you see her then it’s pathetic that youse call yourself her friends. I ain’t never seen someone who makes life brighter than she does. She is kind and talented and she cares so much it’s made her physically sick before. If youse think there is any reason I wouldn’t choose her, you’re wrong. So don’t give me stupid excuses to not want her. It won’t work. I’ve been choosing her longer than you know.”

It felt as if your knees were going to give out beneath you. You trembled, pressing back against the wall, doing your best to not slide down it. Your breathing, where you’d been holding it to listen to her, was now ragged. You had to pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes, forcing yourself to push the tears back.

No one had ever said anything like that about you before.

“You didn’t even mention how hot she is,” Jared said.

You pressed your hand to your lips to keep the wet laugh from making a sound.

“Her being hot is just an extra benefit. I’m not with her because she’s hot. I’m with her because she’s the sun,” Melissa said, scoffing at your friend.

Your mouth fell open. You had no idea Melissa could have been so poetic, especially without giving her a heads up that this might happen. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest and you had no idea how you were going to face her now. You ached, deep within you, to reach out to her, to press yourself to her, to bury your face in her neck until you weren’t sure where you ended and she began. Curling your arms around your body, you held on, desperate to keep yourself from falling apart.

“Good enough for ya?” Melissa asked into the silence left behind in the wake of her words.

There was a general grumbled agreement before footsteps began to sound again. You wiped the vulnerable skin under your eyes, brushing away the tears. You steeled yourself, straightening your spine, clenching your jaw. Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the kitchen again.

“There you are,” Jenny called, sticking candles into the cake you’d made for Jared.

Melissa was still there, looking out the door into the backyard. You sidled up to her, shoulder brushing against shoulder. She looked down at you and you couldn’t begin to unpack the expression on her face.

“You okay?” You asked, lowering your voice to keep Jenny from hearing.

“Perfect, hon,” she replied.

Her arm curled around your waist, so warm, making you only want to press yourself against her more. Your head fell on her shoulder, resting there, scared it would be too much for her and yet not able to stop yourself from seeking out her touch.

“Come on, you two,” Jenny said, “we got cake to eat.”

Melissa’s hand slid back into yours, and as you sang happy birthday to your friend, you felt your heart in your throat and your body yearning for her. As Jared lent forward to blow out the candles, she looked down at you, smiling softly, eyes sparkling down at you. You found yourself leaning towards her, drawn in by her gravity. She let your hand go, arm sliding around your waist, hand now resting on your hip, burning through the denim of your jeans. Your breath hitched and her eyes flicked down to your lips, her own pulling up in a small smirk.

You had no idea what to do with the way she was looking at you.

“Melissa,” Jenny said, stealing her attention, breaking whatever spell was woven over the two of you, “have you had any of our girl’s baking yet?”

“I made her a tiramisu for her last birthday,” you called to her.

“You made that? Shit, hon, I thought you’d bought it,” she said.

Had you revealed too much? No. No, you couldn’t have.

“Course I made it,” you replied with a small shrug, “no big deal.”

Something in her softened.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Her lips pressed to your temple, soft and addictive and your breath caught in your chest. Your skin tingled with electricity and if you could bottle a single moment of your life it would be that one to revisit any time you wanted. It would feed you for the rest of your life.

There was a collective aw from your friends. Your cheeks heated and you had to look away, scared they’d see too much. That Melissa would see too much. Her arm tightened around you and you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Do you want some cake?” Melissa asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, cheeks still hot enough to fry an egg on.

You took a slice from Jenny, waiting to see Melissa’s reaction before taking your own bite. Her eyes slid closed and she made a noise so filthy you thought you were going to have a heart attack. It sent a shot of pleasure right between your legs and you felt your eyes widened as you looked at her. Her eyes blinked open, hooded and seductive, and you had to swallow past the lump in your throat.

“I’m going to marry you just to have access to this cake for the rest of my life,” she said, voice husky.

You laughed, a little uncomfortable even while the thought was pleasant. Being Melissa Schemmenti’s wife. It was one of those fantasies you tried not to indulge in too much. You shoved a forkful of your own cake into your mouth to keep from saying anything stupid in response.

“I wanna open presents,” Jared whined, mouth half full of cake.

Jenny laughed, shoving him over to the table of nicely wrapped gifts. He tore through wrapping paper, uncaring of the mess he was making. Melissa was still holding you, but was focused on him, no longer making you feel as if you were about to faint from the pressure of her gaze. Your head lent against her shoulder again, watching Jared holding up the awful sweatshirt you’d bought him with the president’s face on it. He was grinning at you before pulling it on despite the warmth and the sun.

“I look so hot,” he said, looking down at himself.

“You look sweaty,” Harry said, shoving at him.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you wish you had this sweet piece of ass,” he replied.

“I’ll keep my own piece of ass thank you,” he said, “she at least knows how to shower.”

“How about we don’t call women pieces of ass?” Jenny suggested.

“Sorry, Jen,” he said, “but you know what I mean.”

“And I hate it,” she said.

You laughed, pressing your face into Melissa’s shoulder to muffle it. You felt her nose brush against your temple, her own chuckle soft. Warmth bloomed through your chest, embers of fire floating through your bloodstream. You pressed more to her, hoping it would stop you from doing something stupid, like press your lips to the skin under your face. Her lips brushed your temple and you felt yourself freeze.

Cold water splashed against your stomach. You shriek, flinging yourself out of Melissa’s arms. Jared had levelled a water gun at you, huge and intimidating, the box it had come from lying at his feet. He lifted it and you ran backwards, cursing at him as you took refuge in the kitchen. Melissa was following you, looking no more like she wanted to be soaked than you did. But still, you were laughing as you looked out the window at them, the shiver of your wet shirt barely noticed while you watched the boys battling it out in the grass.

“You alright, hon?” Melissa asked.

You looked over, finding her leaning against the counter, arms crossed, eyes travelling over your body. Your cheeks heated again.

“Yeah,” you replied.

“You’re going to get sick if you stay in those wet clothes,” she said and you knew she didn’t mean it to sound like such an invitation.

“I’ll be fine,” you brushed off, turning away to keep her from seeing the moment of longing on your face.

Warm hands settled on your hips, pulling you back against a soft body and all thoughts fled from your head. You lent back against her, unconscious of your actions and yet desperate for it. Her breath ghosted against the shell of your ear.

“Let me take you home to change,” she said, “Ava doesn’t have the money for a sub if you get a cold.”

Of course. Of course it was about work. Even if a shiver went down your spine and a whimper threatened fall from your lips. You’d never felt such a deep well of want for another person before.

“Okay,” you whispered.

She gave your hips a squeeze before letting you go, stepping back. Thoughts flooded back in, the throb between your legs making you feel shaky. You tottered over to the door.

“Hey, assholes, we’re heading off,” you called to the boys, Jenny standing by the door as if daring the boys to try and soak her.

The chorus of complaints made you smile, shaking your head with such fondness it almost hurt. Jenny gave you a tight hug, ignoring how wet your shirt was, leaving a wet patch on her own. Jared lifted you off your feet, swinging you in a circle. You were laughing and holding on for dear life but his strength was everything. Henry have you a one arms hug, the other holding the water pistol, trying to fight off Carter. He grabbed your face with both hands, kissing you with a loud smack on your forehead.

You turned back to wave from the door before your hand was sliding into Melissa’s again and you were being led out the front door. Settling into her car, you let out a sigh, one that spoke of happiness and contentment. You lent back in your seat, the smile on your face wide, all encompassing, until the muscles in your cheek began to hurt.

“Thank you,” you said, “that was a really good afternoon.”

“Your friends are interesting,” Melissa said, pulling out onto the road.

“They mean well,” you said, “sorry if they… I dunno. Made you uncomfortable or something.”

“They didn’t,” she assured you.

“You don’t have to lie. I heard them grilling you,” you said, not quite able to look at her. You hadn’t planned on bringing it up, but the words spilled from your lips without permission.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable, hon,” she said but her voice was tight.

You sighed, shuffling in your seat until you were looking at her. Her hands had tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles growing white. You wanted to reach out to her but didn’t know how, not without making her unhappy with you.

“You answered really well,” you said, hoping it would calm her.

Her eyes flicked to you then back to the road, hands tightening. Still she said nothing. Your fingers twisted together in your lap, anxiety building again. The nice afternoon was being washed away, the calm you’d felt as you’d climbed into the car nothing but a memory.

“Melissa,” you said, hoping the words would come as you spoke.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she snapped before you could say anything more.

“I’m sorry if they made you uncomfortable. And I’m sorry for eavesdropping,” you said, “I shouldn’t have done that. I could have stopped them and not… heard.”

“It’s fine,” she said, grip tightening even further, “we’re going to ignore it ever happened.”

“But what you said was so nice. I know you were only saying it so they’d believe we were together but… no one’s ever said anything like that about me,” you said, disappointment making your heart sink.

“What do you mean I only said that for them?” she asked, voice tight.

“Well, you were selling it, right? Helping convince them of the stupid lie I told Carter. Weren’t you?” You didn’t know what she was getting at.

Her head turned towards you again before back to the road.

“Hon.” You’d do anything to stop her sounding that way, like she was in pain.

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“I don’t suppose you do,” she sighed.

The silence that settled over you wasn’t comfortable. It made your skin itch and you wanted to do something to fix it. To make everything better.

“You called me the sun,” you whispered.

Her foot slammed down on the break. You jerked forward, the seatbelt cutting into you. You took a sharp inhalation, hand massaging your chest. Turning towards her, you found her already staring back at you. You stopped breathing.

“Because you are the sun, hon. To me, at least. And I don’t care if you don’t want to hear it. You need to know. You light up a room when you walk in and you’re so fucking bright. Sometimes I can’t even look at you,” burst from her, “fuck, hon, when you look at me like that I can’t think.”

“What?” You couldn’t be sure you weren’t dreaming.

“I didn’t agreed to this whole stupid thing for you,” she said, “I did it because I wanted to know what it would feel like to be yours. I was being selfish.”

“Melissa,” you breathed, overcome with the strength of your emotions.

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare. We’re going to forget this ever happened. We’re never going to talk about it. This is done,” she said, beginning to drive again.

You sat in silence, not sure how to tell her that was the opposite of what you wanted. If you never said anything then you’d never have everything you wanted. You were watching her, taking note of the way she was pointedly not looking at you.

She pulled up outside your apartment building. She sat there, still not looking at you, while you looked to her. She glanced over to you then back out the windscreen, face stoic and unfeeling.

“Go on,” she said, “what are you waiting for? An invitation?”

You continued looking at her until she huffed and turned to look at you too.

“I’ve never gone on more than a first date with anyone in three years because three years ago I met you,” you said, ignoring the disgruntled look on her face, “and since that moment I knew.”

“Knew what?” she asked.

“There wouldn’t be anyone else for me. You were it. Everything I ever wanted.”

“Don’t you fucking make fun of me,” she spat.

“Mel…”

You final bridged the gap, reaching out to her, fingers soft as they touched her wrist. She jerked back from you and it was like having your heart torn out from your chest. You were so close to having what you wanted.

“Melissa,” you said, trying again, “I want you so much it hurts. It’s like this physical ache in my heart. I look at you and it throbs like an open wound. You might think I’m the sun, but you’re the very earth beneath my feet. Solid and grounding and life giving. You’re the air I breath. I think about you all the time. To the point where I can’t sleep at night. I’m sorry. I know I’m being really intense. But you need to know how much I’m not making fun of you. I never would. Not like this.”

You’d been watching her face so closely, desperate to know what she was thinking. From anger to disbelief into something that was almost fear. Your hand landed on her wrist again, holding on now, desperate for her not to pull away again. You needed her to listen to you, to really understand what you were saying.

“What are you saying?” she whispered.

“I am hopeless and completely in love with you, Melissa,” you said, “but I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

She let out a long shaky breath, staring at you as if trying to work out where the lie was. You tightened your grip on her wrist. Her eyes shot down to it then back to you.

“You’re in love with me? Even when I’m so much older? When I can’t offer you anything?” she demanded.

“You can offer yourself and that’s really all I want,” you replied, “it’s all I’ve wanted for three years.”

Her hand rose, hovering over your cheek, before curling around the back of your neck and pulling you in. You whimpered into her mouth, lips sliding along lips. It wasn’t elegant and it wasn’t graceful, but it made your heart pound. She sighed, kissing you harder, as if trying to chase away the voices in her own head. You were swimming in want; wanting her closer, wanting more, wanting everything. Her fingers buried themselves in your hair, holding you there as her tongue sought out yours, making your head spin.

When she drew back, you were gasping for breath. Her lips were kiss stung and her eyes were bright. You surged forward, kissing her again, uncaring of the seatbelt and the centre console and awkward angle. You needed her like you needed air. She was your air. She was your everything.

She was always going to be your everything.

“Hon,” she mumbled against your lips, “wait a moment.”

You froze before reeling back. You never wanted her to ever be uncomfortable with you. You never wanted her to feel pressure or forced into anything.

Her fingers were still buried in the hair at the nape of your neck. She tugged on it and a shudder went through your body. Her eyes were smouldering and when her tongue ran along her bottom lip you groaned, loud in the enclosed space. She chuckled, tugging on your hair again.

“Let me take you out tonight,” she said, voice husky and you could hear how she was holding herself back, “please.”

“Like on a date?” you asked, breathless and desperate, thighs pressing together as you squirmed in your seat.

“Exactly like on a date,” she replied.

“Yeah.” You nodded, “yeah I’d like that.”

“Good.”

She lent forward, lips pressing to yours again. You whined into her mouth, not able to stop yourself. You wanted her so much it was making you lose all control. She pulled back again, sitting back, removing her hands from you. You tried to pull her back but she pushed you into your seat, making you almost cry out from your need for her.

“Go make yourself pretty for me, hon,” she said, eyes darkening when they swept over your body thrumming with desire, “I’ll pick you up tonight.”

“You don’t want to come up?” you asked, knowing how desperate you sounded.

“I do, but I won’t.” Disappointment plummeted through your body, “when I have you I’m taking my time to explore every inch of your body. I want to know everything that turns you on. We don’t have time for that before our date. Go on.”

“You’ll really come pick me up?” you asked, surprised you could still form coherent sentences after her declaration.

“Nothing could stop me,” she said, smiling at you with such wickedness it had your thighs clenching again.

You stumbled from the car, looking back at her. She was watching you, not even pretending not to. You waved to her from the door of your building, heart thundering, anticipation building, desire thrumming. She raised her own hand to you and you had to clench on the door handle lest you flung yourself back into the car and into her lap.

You had a date to go get ready for.

[goosita]

no no billy taking you out on his horse and showing you the reigns but it’s a bit hard to concentrate with him and his wandering hands pushed up behind you

oh my god you don't understand this is peak romantic fantasy for me on GOD

riding around out in the fields with billy because he has a day to himself, and he wants to spend it with you.

and we all know billy loves his horse, and he's so good at riding the animal and taming it. he asks if you wanna go out with him for a ride and you're reluctant at first. of course, this is the wild west. lots of people know how to ride horses, it's a huge mode of transportation. but...you had never spent that much time around them. you lived in town and didn't tend to stray from there, and your interactions with the animals were mostly limited to carriage rides where someone else was in control.

"c'mon angel, it'll be fun. promise," he says, giving you those imploring blue eyes all round and wide. you agreed, knowing that billy would never let anything happen to you. not that you were scared. just a little uneasy, is all.

but then the afternoon comes and he's got you sat comfortably right in front of him in the saddle. his chest is warm and solid against your back, your bum is settled nicely in the cradle of his hips and his thighs, keeping you right there against him. your hands rest on the saddle horn while his arms are resting around your waist, holding the reins.

lady, his horse, wanders around where he guides her. she's a pretty horse, white with speckles and she's very calm. you can tell that her and billy have a quiet kind of trust between them.

"see?" he grins, leaning his head down to peck your cheek. "not so bad, is it?"

and it's not. it's not bad at all, really. you can tell your thighs might be a little sore later from the unconscious way you're clenching them to feel balanced, but this is actually kinda nice. the sun is perched in the middle of the sky, warming the fields and your skin. bugs and wildlife are buzzing around you as you ride, and billy seems so relaxed and content behind you.

"you wanna take the reins for a bit?" he asks, patting your thigh and giving it an affectionate squeeze. he likes to do that, give you these little pets and caresses sometimes. just because he can.

"oh...um....i don't really know-"

"nonsense, it's easy. here." he cuts you off gently, placing the leather reins in your hands. he explains to you what actions the horse will take as cues, and you don't dare do anything but encourage the animal to keep on moseying forward like she had been. billy chuckles softly at your hesitance, but he doesn't make fun. he lets you do what you're comfortable with.

you try to focus on directing lady where you want her to go, but it starts to get harder when billy's hands slide up and down your outer thighs slowly. you know he's probably not trying to distract you or rile you up, but you can't help the way your body and mind react to his touch.

billy rests his chin on your shoulder and hums, some silly little folk tune he must have stuck in his head. you can feel the vibrations of his voice against your back and it makes your tummy flutter with butterflies. no matter how long you and billy have been together, even little things like this make your heart stutter like a lovesick teen with a crush.

"you're doin' great, honey," he murmurs, and you can feel his smile against your cheek where he still rests over your shoulder. it makes you feel better, the praise. you like it when he praises you, even for little things like this.

his hands begin to wander, though, and you're not sure you can stay focused on controlling lady. billy brings his hands up to your hips, his fingers dipping into the waistband of the pants he'd loaned you to ride in. it's not inherently sexual, the way he's touching you. a little intimate to be touched out in the open like this, a little against decorum, but you're alone out here anyway. he strokes your skin softly, adoringly, like he just wants to feel you under his fingertips. as much as you like it, it's too distracting.

"here," you blurt, handing him the reins back. "can't think straight with you around." it comes out more playful than scolding, though, and billy chuckles.

"alright. whatever you want, angel," he tells you, pressing another kiss to your cheek before taking over again.

let's talk about billy, baby!

[ohworm-writes]

Scenarios for Firefighter 141 x fem!reader who’s a hairdresser?

I could just see each scenario of them being supportive boyfriends just heart eyes for her in her shop while her customers are jealous.

Oh my gods you're so intelligent for saying this because, yes, all of them would be so supportive of their partner's career as a hairdresser.

First and foremost: every single person who works at the station (be it the volunteers, EMTS, paramedics, firefighters or even the Fire Chief, 141 boys or otherwise) goes to your salon to get their hair done, be it the ones at the tops of their heads or their facial hair, whether you do it or not.

It's a win win, in all honesty. Your shop gets more customers, the boys are promoting and supporting their partner's work, and you get to listen to and share stories, secrets and drama about your boyfriend with the people he works with!

PRICE gets his facial hair done by you and you alone- you're the one who encouraged it, after all, and who best to trust than with his most defining aspect than you? When time allows, he'll come into your shop, still dressed in his PPE, or, at the very least, his bunker pants, waiting with a smug grin on his face for you to tend to him, completely tuning out all of the confused or starstruck looks he's getting by the other customers inside.

(Usually, it isn't even like you're trimming it or anything, just grooming it so that it sits more cleanly on his face. Is it so bad that he wants your hands on his face? After all, you have that adorable, concentrated expression you have on as you're leaned in close to him when you work, combing and brushing strands into place with the sole focus of making him look as presentable as possible.)

He keeps trying to put his hands on your hips throughout the entire process, but it always ends with you swatting his hands away and giving him a playfully stern look, whispering to his with a warning to quit it (he never does). All of the customers in the shop are confused by the interaction, some genuinely worried for you, others utterly jealous, because why on Earth would the local firehouse's Captain be putting his hands on you?

He ignores them, their stares, and any comments or remarks they may make, giving you the most lovesick expression as you tend to him with such attentiveness, talking to him about your own day while he talks about his, mumbling away to you about the jobs he's completed thus far, how the newest fire academy graduate working at the station has been a pain in his ass, and whatever else comes to his mind.

He always suggests how you should just take the day off and ride back to the station with him while he's still off call. You never do. He pouts. You press a kiss to his forehead. It's a song an dance the two of you go through every single time he comes by, and although, he will admit, he is a little disappointed you won't take him up on his offer, he knows you take your job seriously and wouldn't ever be willing to blow it off just to spend the day with him, and he has respect it. Plus, it's a foolproof way to get a kiss from you.

If you ever do, though, he's quick to grab your things and usher you out of the door with a grin, placing his helmet onto your head with a grin, the heavy weight of the item forcing you to straighten your posture as he moves you into one of the free seats with that same smug, satisfied grin on his lips, honking the horn without shame as he drives the two of you back to the station.

GHOST always walks in to your shop as if he had just came back from a call, dressed in a mask and a hood, his helmet on, all of his equipment still on his body as he wordlessly walks over to you, choosing to stand either behind you or next to you as you work on a customer, silent most times.

It's a shame he never removes his facial coverings when he comes by, double the shame, given he doesn't let you work on his hair whatsoever. That doesn't mean he doesn't care, though. He buys half of the products you use, after all, and he listens to ever rant and story you have to share about your job with unwavering attention, memorizing some of the process and methods you've spoken of (if he tried, he could probably layer hair flawlessly just from having listened to you so intently).

The customers are usually confused or freaked the fuck out by some random fireman coming over and staring at them as they get their hair done (and, frankly, they wouldn't be wrong to, especially when he watches with an unblinking stare as your hands and fingers deftly work through the strands with an unyielding concentration; it looks like he's glaring to those who don't know better, which can be unnerving).

But when he starts to talk after a few prolonged minutes of silence, he's asking about how your day's gone so far and what exactly you're working on right now, ignoring the customer completely and staring at you through the mirror in front of the three of you, giving short responses and hums, his tense, smoke scented body relaxing minutely as you speak, a loving expression that only you can catch hidden beneath his gaze.

If you ask him about how his day went, he'll usually say something along the lines of "I'll tell you later". It's not dismissive, but rather, he just prefers to talk about his work when the two of you are alone and not in the presence of others. It's a personal thing for him, his work, given how sensitive the information can become at times, and it's not something he wants some random civilian listening to him talk about.

Usually, right before he leaves, he'll lean in close, the bottom of his mask hovering above your shoulder, right next to your ear, whispering about how you should come over and spend the night at the station with him, making the excuse that the others miss playing cards with you or something equally as lame, but truth be told, he just wants to wake up with you in his uniform.

SOAP lets you do anything you'd like to him. Facial hair? Sure, why not. He could pull off a handlebar, right? Hair? Yeah, we could do a full buzz, why not? Dye? It's... it's best you pick the color, because he'll just put a bunch of random colors on a wheel and spin it. Whatever it lands on, he'll have you do. (It landed on platinum once, and he didn't realize how many sessions he'd have to have and the fact he'd be blond for months on end before it actually matched.)

The way I want to say that he'd pull up to your shop with the siren blaring so badly, but my firefighter loving heart says he'd be more responsible than that (because they're literally not supposed to have it on in case of emergency, and he won't even use the horn because he doesn't want to mess you or any of your co-workers up as you work).

However, that doesn't mean that he won't come into the shop and fling open the door with just a little too much enthusiasm, greeting all of your co-workers as he walks in. Sometimes, he'll even bring the lot of you lunch or coffee if time allows and he isn't needed immediately back at the station (and, yes, he has everyone's orders memorized, of course).

He's dressed all up in his PPE, coming up behind you as you work, pressing a kiss to the back of your head, making sure not to be too enthusiastic or harsh with his movements, not wanting to mess you up, gently grabbing your waist (his gloves press into your apron and get them dirty, but neither of you complain) and placing his chin on your shoulder, talking with you about anything and everything, staring lovestruck at you through the mirror, eyes hooded, gaze coated with love and adoration as he watches you work.

Your co-workers are used to the PDA, the customers are not. A lot of them are confused or offput by it, though, there are those select few that cast glares at either of you (because, come on now, both of you are hot! It's hard to not be jealous of one of the two of you, or even both). There's an attractiveness that comes with being a firefighter (don't we all love a man in uniform?), so more often then not, glares are cast at you.

He'll just press a kiss or two to your cheek to reassure any worries you may have, grinning madly at you as he stares at you in the mirror before pulling back, not wanting to distract you any longer, giving you one of those crappy, plastic stickers with the fire department's logo on it (he does this every single time he sees you, so you just give the stickers to any kids you do hair for), blowing you a kiss before walking out.

GAZ who swears up and down he could marry you because, when you initially asked to do his hair back when the two of you first started dating, sensing his skepticism, showed him how you had done work on a number of people who matched his hair type, and, although he didn't tell you, noted you did a better job than his current barber (and god damn did you line that boy up right).

He always comes in between calls, dressed in his bunker pants and station-issued t-shirt, tucked in, strolling in casually, waiting patiently until you're finished with your client to approach you, your favorite drink from that one spot he heard you talk about last time he came in in his hand, a smile painted across his lips as he approaches you, kissing you on the forehead without shame.

Some of the customers give you both weird looks, either uncomfortable with the PDA or confused why, first off, a firefighter was in the barbershop/salon so casually on a random Thursday afternoon, and two, why he was being so lovey-dovey with you? (They wish it were them so badly, it's pathetic, and Gaz tells you just how pathetic he finds it in private, fighting back the urge to scoff and roll his eyes whenever he catches the stares in person).

He'll sit in the seat, talking with you as you sweep the floor of hair or clean up your work station, leaning into it comfortably, slowly spinning around it as the two of you converse, asking you about how you're days going so far, stealing a sip of your drink with a cheeky grin every once in a while as he listens to you speak (he likes it especially when you whisper out complaints to him about some of the customers you've had so far, or share some of the conversations you've had or overheard with customers).

And the look in his eyes as he listens to you speak? God. The only way to describe it is enamored, completely overwhelmed with love and awe and admiration and every positive word you could find in a dictionary. You often joke with him that you can see his eyes popping out cartoonishly in the shapes of hearts as he stares at you, to which he only responds, saying "It's 'cause you look so good when you talk about doing the thing you love... can't help myself".

He'll talk about his work, a tone of boredom hinting at his tone, not as interested in talking about his own job when he could be listening to you, but if you want him to talk, who is he to deny you? (Like, he could have had the most eventful day, dealt with a goer, two Class B's, or something worse, and he'd act like it was nothing).

Presses a kiss to the back of your hand and gives your a grin as he's called back to the station, telling you to give him a call when you get off so he can come pick you up in the truck. (He always tell you that "royalty like you has got to have a proper carriage, don't you think so, love?").

[simplyholl]

The President’s Pet

Summary: Trying to survive in the Void, you find yourself in President Loki’s possession.

Pairing: President Loki x F Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. minors DNI. CNC. Dom Loki. Rough sex. Biting.

This is darker than what I usually write.

W/C: 1.3K

A/N: This idea came from the wild WhatsApp ramblings of me and @wheredafandomat

See my Masterlist here

You run as fast as you can, Alioth was too close for comfort. You had survived two days in the Void, and you intended to make it a lot longer. “Follow me!” A tall man said, running beside you. “I’ll help you.” You look behind you, the giant cloud monster was gaining on you. You didn’t have a choice.

You follow him underground to his hideout. As soon as the entrance door shuts behind you, two other men surround you, tying you up. “She will do nicely. I heard the President is bored with his whore. She will make a great addition for him. She will ensure our protection for at least a month.”

You struggle against them, but it’s no use. The man you shouldn’t have trusted leads the pack as they carry you across the vacant land. When you reach their destination, you’re thrown to the ground in front of a man sitting on a makeshift throne. He’s wearing a suit with a tear near the shoulder, horns on his head, his dark hair frames his face so beautifully. You notice a button on his suit jacket that says “Loki for President”.

You wonder what his story was before he got pruned. He looks at you with a sinister smile. Rising to his feet, he grabs your hair at the nape of your neck lifting your face to meet his gaze. “Oh, I like her.”

With the clap of his hands, another woman is brought out. “Give her to Alioth, I’ve grown tired of her.” Your new captor continues, “Bring this one to her new room.” You’re lifted to your feet and brought to a tiny room. A bed and a cage are the only furnishings in the room.

You sit on the bed waiting for the man who now controls your fate to give you instructions. He keeps you waiting for what feels like hours, but it could be mere minutes. Time seems to move differently in the Void. He enters the small room, strutting over to you.

“I am President Loki. You belong to me now. What happens next is entirely up to you. If you sign this paper-“ A flash of green shines in his hand as a sheet of paper and a pen appear. “And you’re a good little pet, I will care for you. You will be fed, safe, and rest assured, I take care of what is mine. Any jewelry, clothes, sweets, any frivolous thing your heart desires. If my men find it out there, it will be yours. If you disobey me, you will be punished.”

He gestures to the cage. He hands you the paper. You take your time reading it carefully. Basically it says if you please him sexually, you will be safe, more importantly alive. “Apparently, you run this place. What’s with all the paperwork? You could just have your way with all the women who turn up here.” He thinks about your question for a second before answering.

“Consent is still important, even here darling. You make the choice. You can agree or be Alioth’s next meal. I need you to satisfy my needs. You need me to stay alive. We could have a mutually beneficial relationship here.”

He smiles and you see the politician in him. How he used his charisma to climb social ladders in his own timeline. You take a moment to study his face. He is the most handsome man you have ever seen. You weigh your options. It could be a lot worse. He could be hideous. This will ensure you’re alive for a little longer. You sigh, “Give me the pen.” You reach toward him as a wolfish grin appears on his face.

You hear the thud of his boots on the floor outside your door. This is the second time he’s come in to bed you. He was rough, leaving bruises scattered all over your body. You were still sore from last night, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

You want to be the best he’s ever had. That way, he won’t get bored of you so easily. You quickly strip your clothes, laying on the bed spread for him like a feast. He spots you immediately, nodding his approval.

“My perfect little slut, this is how I expect to be greeted from now on, understand?” “Yes, sir.” He removes his belt from his pants, slowly pulling it from each loop. You place your hands in front of you, ready to be tied up. He did the same thing yesterday.

He fastens the belt around your wrists tightly. You watch as he undresses. He gets on the bed, presenting his fingers to you. “Suck.” You take them between your lips sucking and licking them. When he’s satisfied, he pulls them out rubbing your clit with his saliva covered fingers.

“So wet for me.” He observes. “Yes sir, only for you.” He drags his cock against your lips, and you open for him. “Let me use your pretty mouth, pet.” You take him in slowly, your wet tongue traveling his thick length.

You moan around him as his fingers explore you. He grabs your head, making you take him all the way to the back of your throat. Your nose hits his pelvis, drool drips down your chin. He watches as you struggle to take him. You choke when he thrusts forcefully.

You let your jaw go slack, letting him fuck your face. You whine when he removes his fingers from you. “You look so beautiful choking on my cock.” He tells you, his thumb caressing your full cheek. You feel his cock pulsing on your tongue. You know he’s close. You suck your cheeks in and he empties in your mouth.

You swallow most of it, leaving some in your mouth. You stick your tongue out, showing him the release you saved before swallowing. “Thank you for cumming in my mouth, sir.”

“That’s my good girl.” He praises. “Good girls get rewarded.” He pushes you against the mattress, raising your belt restrained hands above your head. He licks a stripe up your neck, rough fingers pinching your nipples. He bites down on your shoulder, you cry out reaching for him.

He slings your arms back up with force. He spreads your legs, settling between them. You gasp as he buries his face between your thighs. He tugs on your clit, you writhe underneath him, bucking your hips up into his face.

President Loki’s large arm lays against your stomach, holding you down. He dines on you like you’re the first decent meal he’s had in ages. Considering where you are, it’s probably true. His tongue lashes against you, he’s not gentle. It’s almost like he’s punishing you with the skilled muscle.

You feel your orgasm building. You look down at the beautiful man between your legs, wishing you could hold onto his horns for support. The band low in your belly snaps and you fall apart, shouting his name. He bites your inner thigh as he removes his face from your center. You shutter with anticipation as he parts your legs slowly.

He plunges inside you, bottoming out immediately. “It’s too much.” You tell him, feeling way too full. You’re still sore from last night. “You can take it.” He confirms by pulling out and thrusting back in harder this time. He lifts your leg to his broad shoulder, this new angle making him drag deliciously against the special spot inside you.

“Tell me you love taking my big cock.” He commands. You moan as he looks over your bruised covered body, appreciating his handiwork from the night before. “I love your big cock, sir. It’s all I can think about.” You stroke his ego as he sets a brutal pace. “Good fucking girl.” He growls.

“I want to see this pretty pussy dripping with my cum.” He reaches between you, pinching your sensitive clit. “Please cum inside me. I need you to fill me up, sir.” You beg him. His thrusts grow sloppy, then he spills inside you releasing with a grunt. He pulls out quickly, rough hands spreading you apart.

He collects the cum dripping out of you with his long fingers, pushing it back into you. “You were so good for me.” He coos. “Don’t clean up yet. I’ll be back to do it later.” A hot plate of food and mouth watering desserts appear with a green flourish. “Don’t tell the others I can do that.” He winks at you, magically putting his clothes back on before leaving.

Tags

@lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @loz-3 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lokischambermaid @lamentis-10 @muddyorbsblr @itsybitchylittlewitchy @anukulee @xorpsbane

[phoenixlionme]

The Deep Significance that Vaggie has in Charlie's Heart

As the title of the post suggests, I don't know if many fans understand how truly significant Vaggie was/is to Charlie. And I hope, the importance gets expanded on in Season 2. The first (and above) gif shows how the couple first met - Charlie rescuing a recently abandoned/fallen Vaggie and the latter returning a grateful and genuine smile. And despite being visibly disheveled and having a gouged out eye, Charlie can't help but be romantically flustered. And just a short moment, the duo have impacted each other before even spending time with one another.

The look on Charlie's face is probably the most scared she's looked - Yes, she's been stressed and scared; but she's always been able to bounce back, or least, need a moment to think, but those moments of fear can't compare to the ones Charlie is having right now upon learning Vaggie's secret. She's not only scared but distraught. Prior to the reveal, Charlie was nothing but energetic, defiant to the higher ups of Heaven, especially Adam and Lute; heck, she wasn't even hurt when she learned that not even the higher ups know how a soul goes to Heaven or Hell. But when Vaggie's lie/secret is revealed to her? She's shocked, scared, confused, and distraught. There's no more fight left in her; no more fight to argue for her cause, nothing. All she can think about in this moment is the secret her Vaggie has been keeping from her.

Like how Charlie's scared face differed from her previous ones, it's also the same but how her anger at Vaggie differs from her other moments of anger. She could be comically furious or genuinely enraged which came with her demon horns and fangs. And prior to confronting Vaggie here, she was emotionally incensed at Alastor's taunting. But, when she sees Vaggie here in this moment, right after learning Vaggie's lie? All of her anger becomes ice cold. There's no emotion or expression; and yet, ironically, the viewer (and Vaggie), can just feel Charlie's immense anger at her girlfriend. In the above screenshot, after Vaggie voices her surprise that Exorcist Angels can be harmed by demons, Charlie curtly remarks if Vaggie did know, would she tell her, which obviously surprise and hurts Vaggie; Charlie's remark comes from a place of hurt at Vaggie's secrecy but still that's gotta hurt Vaggie given how loyal she's been towards Charlie's dream. And the below gif has Charlie give another cold look to Vaggie while coldly asking if she was with her and Alastor. But also, before dawning the icy glare, Charlie has a brief expression of...something; I can't fully describe but I say emotion (?). Like she briefly wants to express her hurt to Vaggie but puts on the cold demeanor as they have their respective duties to do and Charlie is not ready to talk yet. Getting back to my original point, Charlie's anger at Vaggie isn't one filled with emotions, expressions, or demon powers - it's one of tranquil fury, coldness, and emotional distance.

In stark contrast to her earlier stoic fury when with Vaggie, Charlie is MUCH more open and emotional about her anger at her girlfriend's lie when talking to Alastor and Rosie. Now, remember - Charlie is dealing with Heaven not listening to her, them not even knowing how a soul goes there or Hell, Adam targeting the Hotel first, and now having to recruit extra people to fight. So, she has a LOT on her plate but what is her mind truly bothered by at this point? Having to come to grips with Vaggie's lie about her origins. She's hurt at the idea that Vaggie didn't trust her; hurt at how she shared EVERYTHING, Vaggie held back; confused and angry over why Vaggie felt she couldn't tell her. All the other hard stuff is hard to deal with, but she can deal with as long as Vaggie is by her side. And right now, Charlie is too hurt to be comforted by Vaggie.

To summarize, Vaggie's presence is DEEPLY important to Charlie. Vaggie was the first person in all of Hell to support her; before her father, before the friends they would eventually make, before Emily, before Heaven; and while realistic, Vaggie never tried to damper Charlie's optimism. This was something Charlie needed by the time they met, as she was already estranged from her father and her mother had went missing. I think this aspect may be explored in Season, or at least, hope so. I mean, look at how calm and relaxed Charlie becomes when Vaggie gently strokes her face.

In other words, Vaggie is Charlie's guardian angel.

[catladyoftheyr]

Too Sweet (Ch. 2)

Harvey x Reader

Ch 1 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

Summary: this is based off Harvey’s 2 heart event in the game! I wanted to expand on it and add a little tension after their little meetcute. You go to visit George and Evelyn but Harvey is in the middle of a private session with them. You get caught in the middle of everything.

A/N: cliffhanger ending I guess bc I’m tired lmao. Not exactly fluff but not really angst either.

Word count: 722 it’s Smol

The end of spring had come around in the valley and the shift toward warmer weather had left you feeling rejuvenated. You were slowly settling into a new routine, making your way into the chicken coop to collect their eggs. The hens bobbed around affectionately at your feet and you bent down to ruffle them softly as you scattered feed. After the chickens were tended to you filled your watering can, still straining from its weight.

After you were satisfied with the progress on your morning chores you sat on your porch and admired the view. It was so quiet in the valley, no car horns or pounding construction. You noticed your tulips had bloomed and recalled Evelyn mentioning they were favorites. You gathered a few flowers as gently as possible, wrapping a pale ribbon around the stems to hold your makeshift bouquet in place. You laid the bouquet in a basket and started on your way into town.

Passing by the bus stop you noticed a patch of leeks that had sprouted. You added them to your basket, careful not to damage the flowers. Evelyn had mentioned they were her husband’s favorite in passing, and you’d grown fond of him as well. You found your mind wandering as you followed the path toward the elderly couple’s home. You thought about stopping by the saloon to buy Harvey a coffee, and to find out what Gus liked so you could properly thank him for his work.

Evelyn had made a point to tell you multiple times to let yourself in when you visit, no need for knocking. You turned the knob and stepped into the living room. You quickly realized you’d stumbled into something private. George and Evelyn were seated in the room, listening intently as Harvey preached about the importance of a balanced diet. Before you could turn to leave you heard the doctor’s voice call out.

“This is a private session. You can’t be here.”

“Sorry! I didn’t realize you were here. I was just leav-“

George cut you off mid-sentence as you tried to back out the door. “Wait just a minute. I want a second opinion. “

Harvey let out an exasperated sigh. “George please. I’m your doctor. I'd appreciate it if you’d trust me. I went to school for eight years; I'd like to think I’m qualified when I tell you to eat less sodium.”

“I think Harvey’s right, George,” you added sheepishly. “I’m sure he has your best interest at heart. Besides, there’s plenty of healthy options that taste great. I brought you some leeks” you raised the basket meekly. George’s expression softened.

“I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry for fighting you, Doc. And I appreciate your kindness toward little old me. Thank you for the leeks, they’re my favorite.” You said your goodbyes and apologized again for interrupting before setting the basket down on a table and leaving.

Your cheeks burned red when you walked into the sun again. You cursed silently for not knocking, or for dropping by so early. You’d never been so embarrassed. Harvey must think I’m a fool and a stalker you thought to yourself as you paced around town with no destination in mind. You turned back and walked toward home. You felt the tears well up in your eyes and prayed no one else would try to make conversation today.

You slid to the ground in the chicken coop, back against the wall with your head in your hands. Tears began to run down your cheeks while the morning's events ran through your head in a loop. You cried quietly for a while before you felt gentle pecking. You scooped the hen into your lap and laughed softly. “I screwed up today, Scramble.” The chicken looked at you inquisitively. “I totally blew it with that cute doctor. I walked in on him with a patient.” Scramble clucked sympathetically while you pet her. “I’m serious, I made a fool out of myself today. He’s never going to take me seriously now. He probably thinks I’m a total loser.” Your other hen cooed as if to respond from across the room. “You’re right, Henrietta. I don’t need him or his stupid mustache.”

“You think my mustache is stupid?” The coop door opened and Harvey stood in the entrance with a hurt expression.

[aikaterini-drag]

Embrace of Two Hearts

Summary: Harald has been traveling, negotiating alliances but now that he is back, he can’t take his eyes off of his wife —as well as his hands off of her.

Pairing: King Harald Sigurdson x Queen Fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, kisses, implied smut, besotted Harald.

It had been a long time since Harald Sigurdsson had left Norway to build alliances and trading negotiations with the surrounding kingdoms. The matter had required his attention and he had been forced to leave you behind so you could take care of the kingdom in his absence. You were his Queen, the person he trusted and loved the most.

After meeting with various wealthy yarls and merchants, Harald’s plans had been prosperous; he’d stricken deals to trade goods and boost the income of his kingdom.

After almost two months at traveling, he was finally back.

Harald hadn’t blown the horns to make his arrival known.

He wanted today to be a surprise.

He wanted to see your face light up and hear your happy laughter as you reached him.

So after a light meal and a much needed bath, he headed to one of the villages where he was told you had gone shopping.

With his hood pulled low over this face, he strolled along the bustling Viking village, and when he saw you, his eyes fixed on you. You hadn’t taken notice of his presence; you were engaged in conversation with some of the women selling silks and spices. Resting his great frame on one of the stalls, he took his time and watched you for a few seconds. When waiting became too much to handle, he slipped back his hood and approached you.

A loud gasp left your lips when you finally saw him. You blinked, as in disbelief and when he smiled invitingly, all dimples and sunshine, you rushed into his arms. Your husband was back! Oh, how you’ve missed him, craved him! You’ve been exchanging letters with him during his travels but nothing compared to him holding you, touching you. And there he was, tall and handsome, wearing his marvelous regal tunic and leather pants, his fur cloak, his handsome face forming a warm smile.

“Ah, there’s my beautiful queen!” he said when you practically jumped into his waiting arms.

"Oh, Harald!" You pressed your lips against his in a long kiss. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”

“Surprise,” he said, his lips stretched delightfully.

“Oh, how I missed you! Is everything alright? The negotiations?”

“Everything’s perfect. I’ll tell you about my feats later.” He cupped your face, his hungry eyes taking in your beauty. “Let me look at you, have my fill of you.”

“Did you miss me so much, my lord husband?”

“Only a little, my lady wife.”

"Only a little?" You raised a brow. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I lied. I missed you. Painfully. Deeply. Hard.”

You laughed. “You debauched Viking.”

He grinned. “I've hoped to distract you from your shopping. Is it working?”

You fluttered your eyelashes. “Only if you kiss me again.”

Smiling in that stunning mischievous smile of his, he lowered his lips to yours, his tongue dancing with yours wetly. The touch was too swift for your liking but since you were still in public—and everyone was staring… you drew back softly. Harald locked your hands together and led the way back to your longhouse. You walked through the hall, with him stealing kisses and whispering sweet words to you.

When he had you in the solitude of your room, he scooped you up and dropped you onto the bed. You giggled as you bounced stop the furs and pillows. He joined you, a thick knee climbing onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. And then he was all over you, his strong body draped over your slender frame. He watched you with eyes ablaze with the passion, his lips parted. He brought his hands to caress your cheek, his knuckles tracing your skin lovingly.

“What is it, King Harald? What has you so enthralled?” you teased, leaning into his touch.

“You,” he said simply. “My wife… my beautiful wife who outshines even the finest jewels.”

You kissed him lightly. “I’m not as charming as my strong and courageous husband.”

“I disagree. You are achingly beautiful and perfect. And I am not in the least charming.”

“Oh, you're charming. Impossibly charming.” You claimed his lips and he moaned. “Your charm is as sharp as your sword.”

Harald grinned. “My love, my sword only yields to you. Sharp and ready to service you.”

“You didn’t just say that!”

He kissed your forehead, however, his hands were skillfully dragging up your gown. “What are you thinking, my mischievous wife?”

“What are you thinking, my mischievous husband?”

“I’m thinking I missed the feel of you. And that I want you,” he said and rolled his hips gently, and even with the layers of clothes, his groin pressed hard against her center.

Whining softly, you slipped your hands under his tunic to feel his warm skin. “Me, too. It has been so long.”

“Hm… I have been denied your warmth but no more.”

“Make love to me?”

“All day and night, my love.”

He pulled you close and kissed you deeply and fervently, lips meeting, tongues brushing. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving nothing but your love and passion. Clothes were tossed away, skin touched skin, sweat tricked like little diamonds and then came bliss.

[cozygold]

Mystery of Lilia's ring

Lilia x Reader

Warnings: angst/fluff, fem reader, general lilia, book 7 spoiler

Pt. I Pt. II

Lilia wears a wedding ring under his gloves. However when asked he doges the question or makes up some silly excuse

Malleus is aware that he had wife. Lilia confirmed it a while ago but did not elborate further

It was only during the Malleus overblot incident that Diasnomia family found out about her and who she was

(it takes place after Malleus have put everyone to sleep Silver/Sebek/Yuu watch Lilia dream play in front of them like movie)

Lilia woke up in unknown place. His whole body was burning with pain, he barely had the strenght to open his eyes

Everything was blurry but he could make out soothing humming and chopping of knife against a wooden board. It made him relax his muscles a little before the noise stopped. At the same time he realized

'Wait...it sounds like.. a human language?!'

He shot up sitting up on the bed before tumbling back down from the anguish

"My,my don't strain yourself like that, dear"

His eyes widden in horror when he felt hot breath right next to his ear along with voice that he heard ealier. He quickly reached to his waist trying to grab his weapon. But it wasn't there

"Sorry, love I had a feeling you might try that so i had to take your toy away so my head will stay on my shoulders"

He whipped his head around and saw a human woman. Now standing good few feet away from him. She was wearing a dark cloak and a long dress. Both looked pretty torn down and dirty

"What do you want, human? Even without my weapon i can take you down easily"

His eyes started intensly at her. A sight simillar to a wounded animal

"Haha, you would be right if you weren't in a state you're currently in. I barely saved that leg of yours. I'm medic that specilizes in humans, you see~"

She took few steps closer to him. Smile never leaving her face

"I'm (y/n)(y/l), i'm a traveling medic. I manged to save you from that abush that you got yourself into earlier"

Lilia squinted his eyes, trying to recall what happend. He remembers how fast his heart was beating, the metal that tore through his flesh...

Green fire, and a figure with what looked like horns

"Meleanor?! What the hell was she doing there?! Speak human!"

"Oh, i'm sure she's safe and sound in her castle"

"What?! Don't try to make fool out of me. I know what i saw. This green fire and the horns must have belonged to her"

"Oh no it was just me"

She deadpaned looking blankly at him. They stared at each other in awkward. Lilia pinched the bridge of his nose

"Care to explain yourself?"

(y/n) giggled and puffed her chest proudly

"It looks like two twigs on my head and some plant colored fire was enough to send the fools running. I honestly suprised you fell for it too"

She tilted her head to the side, looking smugly at him. Lilia felt his cheeks warm up. How could he had fallen for such simple trick?

"Hmph!"

He quickly turned around on the bed facing the wall and hiding his red face

Meanwhile Sebek, Silver and Yuu watched as the dream played in front of them

"Who is this woman?! How dare she mock Master Lilia!"

"Shh, Sebek that might be her. Father's wife..."

"Nonsense! He never even mentioned having a wife. Let alone a human"

"Never directly. But i once overheard Lord Malleus try to speak about her with him. After confirmation Father quickly changed the subject"

Silver scratched his chin, deep in thought

"as much i feel like inviding Father's privacy, this might be our only chance to really get to know her"

Back to the dream

"Awww, come on General! You gotta i eat! I didnt work so hard to save you just for you to die out of starvation"

Lilia scrunched up his face, turning away from the spoon being held to him. He spent about 4 days in the human's cottage refusing to eat, still not being able to stand up from the bed.

He didnt trust her one bit. She has no reason to do it so. What kind of motive drives her? Trying to gain his trust to poison him? Is she secretly a twisted woman trying to make him in some sort of fae pet for her amusement?

He has to get out as soon as possible

"I have no intention of taking anything from you, woman"

His tone harsh as it always been, red eyes glaring at her

She sighed, pulled out a chair and slumped down on it, setting the bowl of soup on the table. (eye color) eyes looked up blankly at the ceiling

It was her first time taking in a fae patient. She did as much reaserch as she could on them during such short amout of time. She knew that they could survive longer without food than humans. They also recovered faster

But his state was quite serious. Regular man would have probably passed by now. Used to enduring injuries in battle he's probably not even aware of it.

She Has to make him trust her. Just enough for him to her treat him

"You never told me your name. I just know you by 'general' "

She finally broke the tense silence, turning her head in his direction. He still refused to meet her eyes

"There is no need for you know it"

"Huhhh, no fair, i already told you mine"

Her attempt at teasing him got ignored making the room go quiet once again

"I never wanted this war. And i know you didnt either"

She dropped the teasing letting her tone get more grim

"Tch, don't act like you know me or what i want"

It was clear from his body language that this conversation was getting on his nerves, yet she continued to press further. It was now or never

"I know that my people caused you unimaginable pain. No matter what either side has to gain from its not worth all the suffering.

Fae, human, merfolk, beastman...i was taught to treasure all lives. I swore that i will save as many as i can as a medic. Just like you swore to protect your people as a general"

Lilia despite still being sceptical for first time seemed to not ignore her

"My parents were medic as well. They made me what i am today, taught me how to treat people. My whole village fell victim to this conflict"

Her voice shaked, eyes starting to get watery. She took a deep breath to remain composed before speaking futher

"I will not ask for your pity or gratitude towards me. Just please let me treat you. We already lost enough"

She bowed her head to him, her voice pleading almost like she was begging for her own life. Lilia let out a heavy sigh

"Rise your head, human. I do not want to be subjected to such a pitful sight any longer"

Few stray tears streaming down her cheek, her eyes looked up him hopefully

"I will eat your soup so cease your whining"

A bright smile adorned her features. She clasped her hands together letting out a joyful laugh

"Thank you sooo much! Don't be afraid to say if you don't like it i will adjust it to your taste next time! Please enjoy it!"

She handed him a bowl and a spoon

"I will be in the kitchen mixing up some healing herbs for you!"

"Sevens, quit talking my ear off! J-just go do what you're supposed to do"

"Right! Please call me if you need anything"

She skipped towards the door and just about when she was about to leave the room she heard her patient speak up

"Hey..."

"Hmmm?~"

She turned around, tilting her head curiosly

"Its Lilia Vanrouge. My name"

Suprise washed over her features for a moment before her lips spread into a thoothy grin

"Nice to meet you, Lilia"

[writteninlunarlight-years]

I need more platonic headcannons in my life; can you do some general headcannons for being friends with Charlie, Angel Dust, Alastor, and Rosie? (Separately BTW)

Platonic Hazbin x Friend Reader

HEADCANONS

Charlie

Being friends with Charlie includes being down for her crazy ideas and schemes.

You are her third in command, the second being Vaggie, with whom you need to be friends.

You get to know all the details about all the hotel inhabitants. Charlie needs someone to spill the tea with who isn't her level-headed partner.

If you are single, she constantly sets you up on dates; she just wants you to have what she has.

However, if you are Aro or Ace, she stops and just finds more people for you to be friends with.

If you are super artistic, be prepared for her to ask for your help with a million things around the hotel.

If you are more left-brain and planning-oriented, she will definitely need your help making sure she shows up to her meetings on time.

She has a high standard of care for you. She is definitely texting three times a day to make sure you ate and are drinking water, friend.

She is a princess with a million and one things, thanks to her dad, so she loves spoiling you and Vaggie.

Friend dates are a must, whether at the hotel or not. She needs to decompress from her relationship, too.

Angel Dust

Clubbing every weekend and some weeknights. However, he will settle on sleepovers if clubbing isn't your style.

He only trusts you to help him when he is having a hard time with Val, so you two go on a lot of self-care dates.

When he can convince you to go to a club he is the ultimate let me hold your drink I trust no one else here.

You and he sit at the bar a lot and bother Husk. Between him flirting and you asking deranged questions, it is always a fun time.

Gives you the best flirting and dating tips, he may be a horn dog and porn star, but he is still a romantic at heart.

You two will 100% play dress up, it is one of his favorite pass times with you especially since a lot of Vel's clothes are meant for people with two arms.

He will not let you visit him at work, though he always comes and visits you. He is afraid that if Val saw you, he would try to trick you into working for him, too.

Teaches you how to pole dance if you are really curious; he thinks it's an excellent skill to have even if you aren't in the sex work industry.

If you choose to follow his lifestyle, he supports you wholeheartedly and even goes out of his way to help you find an ethical club or producer to work for so Val can't get his hands on you.

Alastor

He is a gentleman if you pass his vibe check and are allowed into his inner circle.

You two will go on hunts together if you like; if not, you are the first person he offers the cooked kill to.

Will try to convert you to cannibalism only a handful of times, if you like it you like it if not well damn.

He lets you help him script his broadcasts; however, he doesn't let you speak on them, so people won't come and target you.

Loves to help you ruffle Vaggie or Husk's feathers. Literally, his biggest enjoyment is making either one upset at whatever you two concocted.

Please help him annoy Lucifer; he will be your best friend for life.

You and he visit Rosie regularly to have tea dates and gossip about what is happening with all the other overlords.

He lets you help him clean up his murder weapons, sometimes its more fun to get your hands dirty than using the shadows all the time.

You and his central shadow talk constantly; this annoys him because you two goof off when he's trying to work.

You are the only person who he told about his wounds from Adam, and you help him clean up, best friend pact for life. You won't tell anyone how weak he was.

Rosie

She lets you help at the shop a lot, giving her more freedom and you more street credit.

She will stick up for you against Susan, even if you can handle yourself.

She shows you off to the other cannibals about how close of friends you two are.

She invites you to all her and Alastor's tea dates, enjoying the company of her best friends.

Like Charlie, she will try to find you a date, but only so she can kill them and eat them after they upset you.

Will also try to convert you to cannibalism; however, if you aren't in that crowd, she will happily take up cooking lessons with you.

Honestly, you two have a lot of cooking dates. I'm not gonna lie; you're teaching her how to cook regular food, and she teaches you how to cook other sinners.

She tells you all about her four dead husbands. She ensures you know all the juicy bits so you can hate on them together.

If she gets another husband, you will be the one to decide his fate 9/10. Rosie will come up to you and ask yes or no.

She teaches you all the weaknesses of a human so you can fare better in hell without her.

[glitteryapricotranchbiscuit]

fem reader x Itto were he really wants her to sit on his face but she worried she’d be to heavy but he proves her wrong and she ends up on his face desperately holding on to his horns

Please ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable have a nice day ❤️

♡ Facesitting Itto X fem!Reader ♡

!● warnings: fem!reader, body whorship, fingering, face sitting, focus on reader <33, very smut, NSFW🔞 no minors or I’ll eat u alive

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note: OMG YEAH THIS IS SO CANON at least in my world, gonna make him sit on fem!reader’s face bc she deserves it (also sry for taking so long bbyy aaaa)

“Awww… come on (y/n)... It won’t hurt me, you know that right?!”, Itto did not stop insisting on his request while you were a blushy mess of the thought of it. “N-no, I worry about crushing you…”, you said quietly but loud enough for him to hear. Another pouty ‘aww’ before Itto gets on his knees. This man really wanted you to sit on his face! “Why do you think that? I am the greatest Oni out here, I can handle you. So please, let me eat you out…”, he begged, now looking up with his big puppy eyes, hands together like he was praying for your approval. Damn, this was the point where you couldn’t deny him. His infamous puppy eyes got you both in the first place together, also many other stuff too, but this one shot an arrow straight through your heart. “O-okay fine… b-but can we go slow?”, you said nervously, fumbling on your shirt while Itto jumps up to hug you. “Heck yeah, babe! You will love it.”, he says while giving you smooches all over your face. As if you would weigh nothing to him, he carried you to the shared bedroom.

Itto sits you safely down and gives another kiss on the mouth before stripping down his pants since he only wears pants around the apartment. It was nothing new to see him fully naked but it still made you feel embarrassed to see his huge dick hanging out freely. Best part is that he was half hard already. Your head heated and you looked away while Itto smirks at you, oh how he loved to see you like this, it totally boosts his confidence even more. “Don’t worry, babe! Today I will only focus on you and…”, he got on one of his knees while starting to undress you and kiss your leg. “... your pretty cunt.” This man had no filter when it comes to the intimacy you both were sharing for some time now, and oh boy, your heart pounds loudly against your chest seeing him kneel down to you. Itto helped you undress before starting to kiss you from your leg up to your mouth, giving on your whole body little butterfly kisses. He carefully leaned you down the bed after you were fully naked, hiding your breast from him. “Aww babe, I love it when you get shy around me. Trust me okay? If it’s too much to handle you know the safeword, right?”, he kissed your hand and waited for a sign from you. You nod and stretch your arms towards his face to cup him. He willingly came near, now towering you before you could cup his face and give him a kiss on his forehead.

“I love and trust you, Itto.” He was right away a blushing mess but this did not stop him from giving you this time deeper kisses while one hand caresses your inner thighs. You open your legs wider for him while he continues to massage your tight. His nails were not too long to hurt you but he used them to make little circles on your skin, touching it lightly, not too harsh. You told him many times before that this makes you laugh more than getting excited but he loved you little laughs. And this way you were getting more comfortable. “Does my little pumpkin want more?”, he asked while giving you neck kisses. “Yes please~”, you hugged him while he used his spit to lubricate his fingers to use it on your cunt. When his wet pointer and ring finger carefully slid between your lips, you bite your bottom lip, fully concentrating on his fingers. He slowly made circles around your clit and kissed your neck, licking and sucking on your skin while he worked on your first orgasm. Itto was painfully slow and you could feel how hot you were getting. “I-itto… please faster…”, you begged, petting his face with one hand while you were holding with the other one the bedsheet under you. “Of course, babe.”, he said, then sped up his circles around your clit. He stopped kissing you to watch your expression you were making as you were slowly building your orgasm. You close your eyes and bite your lip, looking away from him. Itto slowed down his movements and saw you open your eyes again, looking at him. “N-no, don’t play with me, Itto please…”, you pouted at him and cupped his face again. He gave you a deep kiss before letting go of you, sucking your juices from his fingers. “Babe, sit down on my face and I will make you cum, trust me.” You gulped, worrying that you might crush him with your weight but as you saw him replacing himself to the position you were and helping you climb and then sit on his chest. His dick was poking your ass from behind while you leaned down to give him a kiss. His hands are holding on your sides. “You make me crazy… so please, *please*, sit with your lovely cunt on my mouth and I will make you feel like you are in heaven.”

You could have said that you are already in heaven whenever he just fucked you silly but this might be the cherry on top of your relationship with him, when you facefuck him. Which is pretty obvious his idea but maybe you will like it and both of you are pretty open for experimental stuff.  “Alright, but tap on my sides if I crush you or anything, okay?”, you said while climbing up, finally having your pussy right in front of his drooling mouth. “O-of course, (y/n), now come here~”, he couldn’t hold his excitement longer back and pressed your hips down on his mouth, letting his tongue finally lick your wet cunt. His tongue licked your pussy from the bottom to the top doing it a few times over and over again, moaning and growling while digging his nails into your flesh. You hold yourself onto the bed frame and adjust yourself a bit to guide his tongue a little more. Itto noticed it and stuck for a while on your sensitive clit, circling and sucking on it. Making you moan out his name and pressing yourself a bit harder on him. “S-sorry”, you said and were about to lift yourself a bit up, but Itto held you close to him while now he inserted his tongue inside you. Making your eyes roll back and moan louder. And Itto loved it so much. He was drowned with your pussy juices mixed with his own salvia, making a mess. You looked down to see into his hearty shaped eyes and how he continues to eat you out without any stop.

“I am getting close, Itto.”, you stated and started to grind yourself on his face, making his nose meet with your clit with every hip movement. Itto enjoys this way too much with his dick leaking with pre-cum and him going crazy with his tongue. Since he was an Oni, his tongue was a bit larger and longer than human ones which made this experience a lot better than you would expect. “mhmm~”, Itto slurped and moaned non stop after you started grinding harder on him, making him straighten up which made you stumble and instead of holding the bed frame… you now are holding his horns which makes his mind go crazy. You felt something warm on your ass assuming that Itto just came but did not stop eating you out, going even crazier on your pussy. “Itto, Itto…!”, you screamed and moaned while cumming on his face, making your gush and press your legs together. Itto tried to drink as much as he could but ended up patting your sides to signal that he needed to breathe or else he would drown. You immediately stood up and helped him lean up, while also noticing that he really came too. His cum stains his stomach and your ass. “O-oh, are you okay, Itto??” He coughed and smiled. “Oh my archons, yes YESS that was amazing, damn come here”, hugging you and kissing your face. You couldn’t stop him here and now you got your juices on your face too, laughing at his reaction. This also made both of you catch your breaths before he let go of the hug just to give you a big smooch on your forehead. “I am still pretty hard, may I have another delicious meal?”, he grinned while his hands went down to your ass, massaging it. “Only if you let me have a quick break~”, you said, kissing his nose and snuggling against him. Itto leaned back still holding you in his arms and cuddling you. “Anything for you, (y/n), I love you.”

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[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Ficlet!!!

Prompt B, 🐉, 🫂, 🗝️

And congratulations!!!!🥂

Ficlet!!! It's always such a delight visiting these two, so thank you for the prompt.

Learning to fall

Words: 985

Rated: E

Tags: Fantasy AU; dragon Eddie; King Steve; established relationship; soul bond; nightmares; hurt/comfort; explicit sexual content; nudity, biting; monsterfucking

Notes: set in the same universe as Hic sunt dracones

Sometimes, at night, Steve's head takes him back to the dark moments.

Sometimes he's back in the dungeons, and nobody comes to save him. Eddie cannot find him, not with their torn soul bond. Robin is imprisoned somewhere else, and when the guards drag him away to the executioner’s block, he knows that they’re going to kill her before him, just to make him suffer more.

Sometimes, he’s back in the courtyard, the storm raging all around him, fire and debris raining from the skies, and the huge crossbow looms before him. He tries to reach it, but he can’t gain an inch. He screams until his voice cracks, but Eddie can’t hear him, and he has to watch again as the giant bolt pierces his dragon right through the heart and takes him out of the sky.

This time, he’s back in the tower, rushing up the spiral of a never-ending stairway while thunder roars outside and the fight rages on below him. He’s barefoot and keeps slipping on his own blood, and the wound in his side tears further with every step, but he forces himself to go faster still.

He doesn’t make it in time. He never does.

He scales the last steps and stumbles into the ruins of his old chambers just in time to see Carver swing his blade.

His dragon looks up. Their gazes lock.

The blow connects and the light in those beautiful golden eyes goes out.

And Steve screams.

The sound of it startles him into consciousness. For a moment, he flails in that weird, hazy state between waking and sleeping, and it feels like falling, feels like plummeting from the tower all over again.

“It’s alright, my love, it’s not real.”

Arms and wings and a tail wrap around him, pulling him tightly against a warm body. Hands card through his hair. His mate’s mind nudges against his own, as comforting and familiar as his touch.

“It’s not real, you’re dreaming.”

Steve sobs, and it’s equal parts terror and relief. Eddie just holds him, kisses the tears off his lashes, and waits until his shoulders stop shaking.

“I was too late,” Steve murmurs against the crook of his neck, once he trusts his voice not to hitch. “He killed you.”

“You weren't,” Eddie says, nuzzling the top of his head. “And he didn't. I’m right here. Safe and yours, alright?”

Steve laughs around the last few hiccups. They’re both here in their nest, the first rays of early morning sunlight creeping in through the windows, with their kingdom slowly waking up underneath them.

“Yeah,” he says, shaky hands reaching out to run along the curve of his dragon’s horns. “Yeah, alright.”

Eddie rumbles in pleasure, eyes gleaming gold in the light of the new day.

“Say it,” he mutters, nipping at the bite mark on Steve’s shoulder with sharp fangs. Steve’s laughter catches in his throat, but this time, it’s for entirely different reasons. “Say it, beloved, please.”

“You’re safe,” he replies teasingly, knowing full well it’s not what Eddie meant. Sure enough, he’s rewarded with an impatient growl and another bite. “Ow, alright already, you clingy dragon. You’re also mine.”

“And you are mine,” Eddie murmurs, pulling him in, and then neither of them says much for a while.

*

The sun is well on its way over the castle walls by the time Steve disentangles himself from his mate’s arms and the warmth of their nest. Eddie, who was dozing with his face buried in the sheets, looks up as he slips a shirt over his head, and groans in annoyance.

“Why the fuck are you dressed?”

Steve, who is squinting at the mirror and running a brush through his hair, rolls his eyes at his own reflection. “Because I have a court waiting for me, and unlike you, they prefer it when I’m not butt ass naked. Now stop whining, I should’ve been downstairs-”

The sound of a lock clicking shut makes him pause. When he turns, Eddie is propped against the door, lazily twirling the key around one finger.

“Eddie, come on,” Steve sighs. “What are you doing?”

He walks over and grabs for the key. Eddie tucks it behind his back. Steve tries to reach around him. Eddie dances out of his way, but his tail curls around Steve's waist, pulling him along. Before he knows it, they're back in the nest, half wrestling for the key, half chasing each other's lips and tongues, and Eddie is slipping the offending shirt off his shoulders again.

“Obvious, isn't it?” he answers Steve's question, albeit a bit belatedly. “I'm making sure you stay. I want to keep you all to myself.”

He kisses his way down Steve’s collarbone and chest, and the soul bond shivers with their mingled desire. Steve grumbles reluctantly, even as he melts into the touch.

“Eddie, I can't. There's things I need to do, I-”

But then Eddie pushes his head between his legs, fangs grazing the inside of his thigh, and he forgets what it is he needs to do.

“Let me take care of you, my king,” his dragon rumbles, effortlessly picking up on his train of thought. “That's the only thing you need to do right now. Everything else can wait for a few hours.”

Sometimes, Steve's head takes him back to the dark moments.

Sometimes, he forgets he doesn’t have to be tough all the time, that he can rest and show weakness and let himself fall. Sometimes he thinks it will always be like this.

That is alright, though. Eddie loves all of him. The dark parts and the weak ones, on the days where he feels like he can touch the sky, and on the days where it feels like he's plummeting back into the abyss.

Letting himself fall doesn't seem so scary, these days. He knows he'll always have someone to catch him.

More celebration ficlets

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

HOW DARE YOU STAB ME IN THE GUT THE IDEA OF VAGGIE BEING MORTAL!

SO RUDE!

But at the same time just... thinking about vaggie wanting to grow old with charlie. that sort of show of *trust*, of being vulnerable with charlie in a way no one's been with her before.

and it probably takes some more conversations, but... I want to hope that charlie eventually understands just what vaggie means when she wants to spend the rest of her days with charlie. and how much meaning that carries when those days are *finite*...

MY POOR HEART HOW DARE YOU

well this almost turned into a fic now didn't it? hm. whoops

(had Reinaeiry's song "Left Behind" on repeat for this ^w^;)

.... a new sinner comes to the hotel, sometime After.

they came in past the giant golden Dazzle statue out front, creep through the foyer, tense and ready for a trap, spot Sir Pentious's portrait- and the matching one, hanging up next to it

(fresh flowers sitting in vases under them both)

it's a picture of a woman. Steel grey skin, faded angel wings, a missing eye- deep laugh lines at the corners of the eye she has left

she's leaning back in a chair, sitting casually in her hotel manager uniform, her thin smile a little crooked and a little sharp- definitely someone used to having problems and finding solutions. Not someone to mess with. The walking stick in one hand is held more like a weapon

there's a wedding band on her finger, on full display she reaches up to cover the hand resting on her shoulder

(rest of that person out of sight) (hand clawed and pale as porcelain, cuff of a red suit bleeding out of frame)

and it's odd to see someone else sharing a memorial picture-

(more than one person had died a little, that day)

-but more odd than that is the way looking at the picture makes the sinner frown.

they're still frowning when the hotel founder wanders over

(done arranging for a new room) (doing double duty as hotel manager) (laughed it off earlier- hasn't yet found the time to put up a job openings ad) (a bad liar)

and she's a lanky, tall demon in a red suit, looking more like a living doll than a princess of hell, proper demon image only hinted at with the claws and the fangs

she shows off the fangs when she smiles at the portrait of the woman- then, belatedly, at the new hotel guest

(still their hotel) (still their new guest) (even After...)

she asks,

"Like them?" and smiles a little wider (wider than a human could) (a little forced now) "They're, pretty cool pictures, huh?"

the new guest hums noncommittally. Still frowning

a laugh from the demon standing next to them, clasping her hands, spinning ring on one finger-

"I guess it's harder to know how good a picture it is, if you've never met the person in it." a hard swallow. "She would've.... really liked to have be here. To meet you."

"Not sure I'd want to meet her," a quip, thoughtless, not looking over. "Kinda a scary lady."

the demon's stricken look "-does she look scary?"

a casual shrug. "Just a feeling. Seems like she meant business."

"She did..." fangs biting into lips, smile gone, shoulders slumping, the demon caving inwards. "....but not like that. She, she was scary for people she loved- and kind. And thoughtful and-"

"What about him?" pointing at Sir Pentious in full battle gear, egg boyz everywhere.

the demon's very weak attempt at a smile. "Oh, you'll see him around eventually. He comes down to visit when he can, and likes calling a lot in between."

eyebrows lifting. Realizing. "He's the one who made it to heaven?"

"He is. He-"

"But not her?"

"...."

tall frame hunching, horns out now, dark marks bleeding down pale cheeks like burnt tears. A tail lashing silently behind her.

the demon breathes carefully. Gingerly.

"She... wasn't here to be saved. Not like- not like that."

"Huh."

a dubious, suspicious noise- the hotel is still a new idea even after all these years- a brand new addition to the fabric of creation with a lot of trust issues still to iron out.

"So what happened?" the sinner prods, watching carefully out of the corner of one eye. "Why's her picture up there with his?"

that gets a smile again, strangely.

a tearful one and a thickness in the demon's voice, but still a smile as she steps forward, reaching up to the portrait frame- touching it, lightly, with a pale, clawed hand that matches the one resting on the painted woman's shoulder.

"...they both gave their lives to their friends."

the demon whispers, still smiling.

"They made their home here, in the hotel, with us, and... and they'll always still be here. They'll never. Really leave-"

the words cut off and the sinner shuffles awkwardly in the silence

staring up at the portrait together, one frowning sinner-

-one hell princess slowly leaning against the woman's gilded frame, forehead butting it desperately, clearly trying hard not to cry in front of the first new guest

(that she's had to greet on her own)

finally the sinner speaks up (uncomfortable with pity) (a dangerous, weak thing to feel in hell) scowling hard at the woman's portrait, demanding-

"Where's her spear?"

the demon turns, wet faced, surprised. "Oh- she didn't want..." Blinks. "Her. Spear?"

"The cane thing looks stupid." crossed arms, a judgmental eye. head tilted to the left like bird, like the right eye was better at looking at things- "It's just a stick. How's she supposed to deal with stuff with just a flimsy piece of crap like that? The thing doesn't even have a blade."

"It had one." murmurs the demon, still shocked. Slowly straightening. "It had, hidden inside, there was a blade- Niffty made it for-"

the demon stops. Frowns.

"But. You didn't know her. The spear... How did you know about the-"

another shrug. "Just vibes."

"Vibes-?"

"She looks like a spear kinda girl."

a flex of the sinner's empty hand, gripping empty air, glaring up at the cane in the woman's hand-

"Just seems right, you know? Better than the stupid twig stick."

the demon eyes flicking down to watch, staring. "...she called her cane that, too."

a faint comment drifting up like the ghost of years gone by.

snorting, the sinner turns away. "I bet." eyes the rest of the hotel with hands on hips, critical and on edge with that stare still burning between tense shoulder blades. "So where's my turf in this place? I'm guessing I don't have to fight for it first, right?"

"Room 12, second floor." many times rehearsed words finally popping out without thought. "Key's on the front desk. I'll show you up-"

"Don't bother." sinner already striding off, clearly glad to get away. "I won't kill anyone on the way there, don't worry."

"I wasn't.... that's not why I..."

there's something. Something about that brisk, focused way of walking. Something in the set of those shoulders-

(like a military march) (like the shoulders are braced for wings that aren't there)

(like the sinner should be carrying a spear-)

Charlie lurches forward.

"-Vaggie?"

heart in her throat, fist in her chest, frozen as the sinner pauses at the foot of the main stairs and looks back.

something in that strange face softens. (pity?) (something else...?)

"... not my name, sweetie."

the sinner's smile is crooked. unscarred eyes understanding, and sad.

"She your wife?"

no past tense. just the gaping whole in Charlie- ripped open fresh, thundering and bleeding under her shirt as she stares and stares and tries to see- "Yes." seeing ghosts where there aren't any. "We. For, for so many wonderful years..."

the crooked smile soft as well as sad now, as the sinner thumbs the room key and takes a moment, looking back up at the portrait above Charlie.

"Good for her."

a touch bitter- a sigh, sharp. Pained.

"And, you. Some of us.. never even find who we were looking for, before we lose our chance at having a life with them."

turning and gone in the next second, before anything else slips out. The glint in suddenly exhausted eyes-

Charlie, standing under Vaggie's portrait, slowly starting to shake.

Not this-

"-no."

Slowly backing up against the wall. Claws reaching out, sinking in, ruining wallpaper as the world tilts and turns and Charlie braces her weak knees against the fall.

"-it's not. It's not."

It can't be. The side of the bed that wasn't Charlie's even when she woke up curled up in it- that was real. The dusty spear propped in a corner of their room that Charlie hadn't put there and didn't want there and couldn't bring herself to move- THAT was real.

The portrait behind her, painted when the limp and her balance first started getting bad, when Vaggie still called her cane a 'stupid twig stick' but wouldn't pretend she didn't need it, wouldn't swap it for her spear when Charlie had offered, carried proudly anyway and smirked about smacking ankles when people annoyed her... mostly just thumbed it thoughtfully, when she thought Charlie wasn't looking, smiling that crooked wondering smile- THAT had been- that was-

Charlie could turn around right now and see all of it memorialized behind her (always behind her now) (always in the past, being left further behind).

Charlie had NOT seen, anything else. Because nothing else could BE real.

nothing as real as long limbs folding in, crumping under that damn framed picture, ignoring Husk's worried look from the bar. Husk, glancing up after the new guest, also frowning now-

Charlie and the old habit of hugging herself tightly back together, something not even a lifetime with Vaggie had ever fully broke her out of.

(only ONE lifetime) (not hers)

(her stupid deal hadn't worked in the end) (promise broken for nothing) (Vaggie had died)

(she can't be-)

She can't do this again.

.....

exact words are a bitch sometimes

"Don't let me die without her." (never said- and make sure she doesn't have to live and die alone either, without me)

[bellaofthevalley]

Pomefiore: Family Ties

i love my delusions lmao ne ways this is also another cutesy platonic one ig? def not yan or romantic but for content warnings: abandonment, surgery but it's not detailed at all dw and that's about it me thinks. reader is described using she/her. truthfully speaking this was written for a friend but for them we just usually use Darling instead of y/n, but i changed it to [name] here lol. ne ways ENJOY

Eric Schoenheit is merely walking back home from work when his life is forever changed.

During his whole life, Eric has been many things; a son, a friend, a student, a graduate and then the owner of his own successful business. But if he was asked him which title is he the proudest of, he'd pause for a few seconds, and then smile fondly. 

Eric Schoenheit’s proudest title is that he is a father. 

And being a father, one that dearly loves his son, Vil, is the very reason he pauses his steps halfway home. It's late at night, heavy snow blanketing the empty streets as everyone remains in the warmth of their home to prepare for their winter breaks, and that's when he hears the cries. 

Heartbreaking, weak, childish cries and sobs echo through the street, coming from between two abandoned buildings. He shouldn't check, he should simply inform the police… 

But he is a father now, and those sobs strike a chord deep within him. 

Many years later, he'll still pat himself on the back for going into that alleyway. 

Because if he had not gone inside, how else would he have found his second child, his sweet daughter, his dear [Name]? 

+++

What Eric finds first, is an egg. 

The egg is bigger than an ostrich egg, and it's also in shades of what could have once been pink and white, but now it was too dirty for him to be fully sure of its colour. The egg was also cracked- 

And there was a baby held within the broken shells, the one causing the cries. Eric’s eyes had widened upon seeing her, quickly kneeling down with his hands hovering over the egg. “Oh- oh dear-” he mumbles in frantic worry, unsure what he should do. This was a fae child, but… 

No chance for him to overthink it, because the baby heard him and was now reaching her skinny, emaciated little hands up towards him, her cries desperate and weak. 

Eric did not stop to think, to look closer to see if she was injured or- or if he could try to see what type of fae she at least might be. All his mind could focus on was her cries, and that she was alone and too thin, far too thin and light and he needs to get her to a hospital- 

She was gnawing on his clothes. Desperately, hungrily, gnawing on his clothes and sputtering on her cries as she realizes that there's no food. Two, strange… things keep poking Eric’s chin, but he doesn't give them much thought for now because he's too busy wrapping the little baby within his coat, shushing her softly. 

“We'll go to a hospital now, sweetie,” he mumbles to her, beginning to walk much, much faster after ensuring she's covered. She's back to gnawing on his clothes despite knowing it's not food, and his heart aches for her. “And you'll feel much better. I promise.” 

+++ 

Eric truly feels as if his life has been upturned in the last few days. 

The little baby- the little girl he had found is apparently a dragon fae, and that, by itself, was already a big shock. And then he is told, while watching her be hooked to several machines with nurses attempting to calm her because he wasn't allowed to be in the room at that moment, that she isn't a baby- an infant. She's barely a toddler, almost the same age as his own son who is being watched by his trusted nanny. 

From what Eric had understood, she had severe growth issues. Dragon eggs only hatch from the love and care of their parents, but she was all alone for at least long enough that her body forced her to grow- and grow twisted horns in a desperate, last attempt to break out of the egg and call out for anyone to help her. The same twisted horns that they'll have to do reconstruction surgery on to avoid any problems in the future for her. 

It was too soon for him to consider it, but… Eric thought that Vil perhaps would not mind a sibling, a little sister. But he wouldn't rush; if Vil really, truly didn't want to, Eric would simply ensure child protection services and the hospital would take good care of the little girl. 

In a few days, if no one comes forward about her, he'll bring Vil to meet her. He hopes it'll go well, but for now… 

“You may enter now, Mr. Schoenheit.” the nurse tells him, and he is quick to step inside, immediately coming close to the little girl.

She looks even smaller now; most of her body has been wrapped in a warm blanket, and the rest was only bare for the many needles and IVs hooked onto her. But she was also asleep, her fingers twitching slightly when Eric held her tiny little hand. 

“Tell me everything.” he demands, voice quiet as to not disturb the little girl’s rest. Even if she may not join their little family… he'll take care of her for now. 

+++

“No, no!” little Vil pouts, shaking his head and a little furrow to his brows. “Not like this!” 

Eric watches the scene with a small, amused smile, not saying anything yet. 

His sweet daughter, [Name], also pouts. “But how?” she whines, stomping her foot. He's glad to see her slowly return to her liveliness; her horn reconstruction surgery had not been easy, and he knows she'd been stressing about how they'll look once they can take the bandages off, whether they'll match her tail or not. 

The doctors had told him dragons were naturally on the prouder and vain side. This also applied to his daughter, even if she may not ever reach a particularly imposing height for dragons. 

Regardless, Eric loves her all the same. Not once during these years has he regretted adopting her, and he knows Vil absolutely adores her and loves having a sister he can play and act with- even if she doesn't want to be famous like he does. 

“Here, hold this.” Vil says, pushing her favourite plushie into her arms so she can hold it. She's immediately smiling, her milky white tail and pink spikes at the end of her tail swishing behind her, and hugs her plushie warmly. Vil also beams, proud of himself. “Perfect! Papa, take our picture now!” 

Eric chuckles, bending down and holding the camera at the right angle. “As you wish…. And there you go.” 

Quickly, both Darling and Vil rush towards him to look at the pictures. [Name] makes an ooh’ing sound, while Vil only smiles. 

“Can we hang this one in my room, please papa?” she asks sweetly, not letting her plushie go. But her other hand is intertwined with Vil’s, always finding comfort in her brother. “I like it.” 

“Do you, now?” he chuckles, gently cupping her cheek rather than patting her head like he would've usually done. “We'll pick a frame and then we'll print the pictures out, alright?” 

“I want this printed, too!” Vil decides, smiling at the forehead kiss he gets. “I'll… add it to my albums, though. I don't want to hang it.” 

“That's alright.” Eric nods his head, and then reaches to pick both of them into his arms. It makes them squeal and laugh, and gets a chuckle out of him as well. “How about we get some ice cream before Vil's audition?” And before Vil can lecture him on the over consumption of sweets with [Name] backing her brother up despite her own love for the treat, Eric clarifies more. “The healthy kind of ice cream we have, not the ones in the shops.”

And just like that, both of his children are eagerly nodding their heads. 

“I'll hold it for you!” [Name] promises Vil when they're at the audition hall. His hands are clammy, despite him constantly wiping them with clean tissues offered by his father. That's why she is offering to hold his ice cream cup for him, her plushie forgotten in the face of helping her brother. She'd even forgone her shyness in crowds and isn't hiding behind Vil or Eric like she'd usually do. 

He's done many auditions before, but this one… this one is the most important for him. He's happy his sister and father are with him, for this moment. 

Eric bends down, gently squeezing Vil’s shoulders. “Breathe with me, champ. You got this, alright? [Name] and I will be here for you regardless of what happens, I promise.” 

“Y- yeah!” [Name] can't help but stutter, her tail curling around herself because some of the staff were looking at them. But she has to do this, for her brother Vil. She reaches her hands out for him, squeezing him in a hug. “We'll always be here for you, brother.” 

And Vil… Vil does not hesitate a single second before he is hugging her back, soothed so much. Their father's arms wrap around them both, pulling them into his embrace. “...Love you, sister.” 

He does not think it, but a part of him knows that this moment will remain in his memory forever. 

+++

“You look pretty.” Vil reassures his sister, gently tugging on the hood of her custom ceremonial robes. He can sense her nervousness simply by seeing that she's hidden her tail and her nails are tapping her own stomach. “You'll be fine, sister. I'm right here with you. We're both going to get sorted together. ” 

His sister nods, aiming to give him a confident smile. He isn't lying; she truly looks pretty, her makeup simple but enhancing her, and her beloved horns gleaming. They were also milky white, with a pink gradient at the tip that paled as it came down to the base. What was special about them were the golden-filled lines from the surgery, gleaming prettily and a source of pride for her. 

She’d pulled herself free from her egg, and her horns were proof of that. 

Her face falls as more people slowly enter the hall, preparing for the sorting ceremony. Her hands quickly latch onto his sleeves, eyes nervously shifting. “Vil…” 

His face softens, and he pulls her into a hug, her face buried in his chest. Though he does shoot a glare at some of the freshmen that stare a little too long. “Deep breaths, [Name]. Don't stress, your big brother is here.”

She nods her head shakily, shudders going through her. There are too many scents, too much talking and murmuring, but Vil's embrace muffles it all. She feels so wholly protected, one of her favourite feelings in the whole world. 

“Always?” she asks, just to be sure. Her voice wavers, and her eyes are pleading. 

Vil smiles, and kisses her forehead. “Always.”

Masterpost