#fic came before the sketch I just had to have both

[songfell-ut]

Okay ONE more genderbend

No, I have not embarked upon assembling gay Songfell piece by piece instead of writing Songfell, I just had another brain rot that's actually been incredibly helpful: in addition to moving and my arm possibly needing surgical intervention (ortho is not being super helpful), I've been focused so much on Songfell's plot that what I've got just doesn't look right.

Well, making my teeny AU made me realize that I've been so busy plotting, I forgot the luv. This has reminded me of why I wrote the dang story in the first place: we all want to see a giant monster simping over a determined, musically inclined human. I will be fixing up chapter 35 and hopefully getting 'er up this month.

...but yes with the help of @skyartworkzzz I did dictate and sort of type this huge drabble, almost a one-shot, and you can't stop me it's too late ah ha ha ha

“Yer doin’ it again.”

Frisk was so lost in thought that it took him a moment to realize Sans had said something, and another to properly hear it. “Doing what again?” the priest inquired, sitting up from his half-slouch over the table.

The giant skeleton sauntered over and tapped the wood surface. Frisk thought at first that he meant the plates from dinner they hadn’t cleaned up yet, but no: Sans was looking at Frisk’s hands. “That thing with yer fingers. Ya wiggle ‘em sometimes when you’re really out of it.” Sans demonstrated with a waggle of his own phalanges, seating himself not far away. “Are ya mad about somethin’? If you wanna wring somebody’s neck, I can do it for ya,” he added generously.

Frisk snorted, scratching his ribs through the shirt he wore under his robe, noticing how Sans’ gaze instantly followed the motion. Better stay on topic; he wasn’t eager for more questions about why human males only sort of had boobs or whether there was as much hair on his chest as his head. “I think I’ve made my stance on murder clear, Sans,” said the High Priest, trying very hard to sound stern.

“Nope, doesn’t wring a bell,” the skeleton said cheerfully, and was rewarded with a snrrk that made him grin about a mile wide. “Ha! I win. Now ya hafta tell me what you’re doin’.”

“That was a good one,” Frisk admitted, rubbing his nose. “All right, then.” He looked at his hand, sobering a little, tapping the thumb and forefinger together. “Here.” With no further warning, he snapped his fingers so hard that Sans flinched. “Sorry,” said the priest, offering a rueful smile that made Sans scowl back. “I just took the barrier off the closet in the corner of my office. Would you please go and open it for me, and bring me what’s inside?”

Nonplussed, the boss monster obediently vanished. A few long moments later, he reappeared with something that looked like a toy in his massive hands. “Ta-da,” he said gravely, trying to hold it properly.

Frisk laughed and took the guitar from the skeleton’s loose grasp. “Thank you,” he said, tilting it onto its side. Something rattled, and he turned the instrument over to shake out a small tortoiseshell pick. “This, sir, is the answer you seek. Sometimes when I’m tired, I’ll think about playing it.” He slid off the chair to retrieve the pick and find a patch of floor to sit cross-legged. “I haven’t touched this in months,” he murmured, stroking the long neck.

He missed Sans’ swift glance at his lap, and how the skeleton’s cheekbones flickered with a few shades of red before he said, “Weird. I get bein’ too busy, but why’s it locked up? Habit?”

“Sort of. When I first moved up here, I thought the servants might take it.” Sans made a disbelieving sound, and Frisk clarified, “I don’t mean they’d steal it. I was afraid that if His Holiness knew it was here, he’d have them remove it.”

The skeleton disbelieved louder. “The hell? Does the Church think they’re evil or somethin’?” He settled on the floor a few feet away.

“Not evil, no,” said Frisk, still examining the guitar, “just…frivolous. If I had a piano or a cello up here, that would be one thing, but this is considered uncouth.” The young man plucked gingerly at the top string, and winced. “Now that’s bad. Positively E-vil.” He plucked again, then fiddled with a knob.

Sans had a good chuckle at that, and didn’t hide his further amusement at how the sound wobbled up and down, but he stayed quiet while Frisk hummed under his breath and turned another knob, wibb-wobbling the string’s pitch till it was as accurate as the young man could get by ear. Then Frisk tried the next string, humming, adjusting till it was in tune with the E; when the next string proved accurate almost immediately, though, he caught Sans’ disappointment and very, very gently turned the knob the wrong way to make it go wooooaaaaooo.

The boss monster cackled in appreciation. “Do it again,” he urged Frisk, reclining on his side and scooting closer for a better look.

“I can’t do it too much,” Frisk replied. Far from minding an audience literally looming over him, he found himself rather pleased to show Sans how the knobs worked. “This works by tightening or loosening the strings, see?” He demonstrated again, letting the skeleton lean in close enough to almost bump heads. “I haven’t replaced these in a while, but I don’t have any spares. I should probably take care of that before I play anything.”

Sans cocked his enormous head. There was a long moment of Frisk conspicuously not stopping and in fact continuing to tune the thing, and the boss monster nodded in understanding that guitar strings were probably not okay, either; however, the truth was that he was watching with such interest that Frisk was too flattered to stop. It was stupid to toodle around with a poorly maintained instrument just to show off, but all.he could think was that he should’ve known Sans wouldn’t care whether this was a waste of time or not, or that he could barely play anything.

The skeleton was evidently thinking the same thing. “So your boss wouldn’t want you doin’ this?” he asked. “The hell does he care as long as yer work’s gettin’ done? He’s not your friggin’ dad. …Is he?”

Frisk played a few mildly amused notes. “No. But I was only nineteen when they made me High Priest, and he thought I was going to be easy to manipulate.” Sans snorted in such derision that Frisk felt a little tingle of pride. “It was exactly the sort of thing he would have done to keep me in my place,” the latter continued. “He’d also tattle to my actual father, and he would have said something. But I’m of age now, so…” He tried another chord, and let it trail off.

“Why’d they teach you ta play it if it’s that bad?” the boss monster persisted. “Ya know all yer music stuff from school, right?”

Frisk tapped the pick absently on the guitar’s belly. “Yes, but not from the monks. I learned it when we were all working in the kitchen.”

Sans lifted a browbone. “Was that a normal thing? Learnin’ discipline or humility or somethin’?”

“Well, yes, and no.” The young man tried a short scale, correcting the last note. “Everyone in our dormitory was being punished. We had to go down after dinner and clean up after the entire monastery.” He couldn’t help wincing. “I hadn’t done anything wrong, so they let me sit with a lay worker who played guitar to entertain everyone. I sang with him and watched how it was done, and nobody told on me for a few months.”

“‘Lay’ worker?” Sans’ tone was much too innocent, and he answered Frisk’s don’t you dare squint with a cheerful “I didn’t know gettin’ laid was a church job.”

The High Priest snorted so hard that he almost dropped the pick. “That’s not what that means,” he informed his apprentice, barely fighting down his amusement before he resumed, “It just means someone employed by the church who hasn’t taken any vows.” But his smile faded to a grimace. “You’re actually not far off. That’s…” Frisk played a few more notes at random. “I think I was seventeen. There was a bad cold going around the monastery. Most of the acolytes got over it in a few days, but everyone in charge – the abbot, the higher deacons, et cetera – all caught it at once.” He strummed an overly dramatic chord. “I’m still impressed how bad things got. It was chaos for a solid month. Anyone who wanted to really misbehave had a good time.”

“Yeah?” To Frisk’s disappointment, the skeleton moved away and turned to lie flat on his spine, stretching his huge limbs across the workroom floor. “So who got laid? Thought humans don’t count it if you’re both guys.”

Frisk was now glad that Sans wasn’t watching: his entire head felt beet-red. “No, it was women working in the outbuildings,” he said with decent composure, trying another chord. “They were supposed to stay out of the monastery, but someone bribed the guards into letting them ‘visit’ back and forth. When the abbot found out, he sent off every female in a five-mile radius and had us take over their work. But then they started writing letters claiming paternity—I think there were over thirty acknowledged pregnancies after the dust settled.”

It was Sans’ turn to snort. “Holy shit. That fast?”

“That fast,” Frisk said shortly.

The boss monster scrunched up his nasal bone, obviously remembering what Frisk had told him about humans’ treatment of unwed mothers. “Well, that was a shitty thing to do. Not like any of those guys could marry ‘em, right?”

Frisk hesitated. How to put this? “Yes, but the ladies knew that. For a lot of them, it was a…we’ll call it a different opportunity,” he said, much more rueful than judgmental. “Noble families want their sons educated at the monastery, but it’s also to keep them from having their own children.” He flipped the pick over the backs of his fingers, a trick he was inordinately pleased to still do. “I will say this. If someone does leave a girl in difficulty, he’s expected to provide at least something for her and the child. Their families had a lot of questions.” He sighed in exasperation. “Word got all the way back to His Majesty. It was a huge mess. You could say the ‘lay’ worker was the only one who shouldn’t be called that.”

He expected Sans to laugh, but when Frisk peeked at him, the boss monster seemed more pensive than amused; his sockets were fixed on the basket of letters. It took Frisk a second to guess what he might be thinking, and when Sans finally shifted back onto his side to look at him, he found the priest glaring at him, daring him to even ask about his own participation. “Glad nobody was a hardass about you gettin’ blamed,” the skeleton said amiably, and Frisk relaxed a little. “Ya know what? Never mind all that crap.” Sans shifted and settled onto his side again. “Knock yerself out on that thing, I don’t care. I’m not gonna tell on ya.”

The young man sat for a moment, tapping the pick against the strings one after another. Sans was right: no need to get into how he had had to literally hide from his peers trying to drag him along to meet some of their new “friends,” or how his father – a prolific creator of children – had publicly commended Frisk for behaving like a true man of the Church, but hinted privately that he would understand if his son started sowing some oats in the very near future. It wasn’t just normal for a gentleman of his rank, but more or less expected to prove his manhood and create more magically gifted progeny of his own, whether or not he was married. Being a busy clergyman had saved Frisk from direct pressure thus far, but— “Here’s a good one,” he said to the skeleton, who obligingly scooted closer. “Don’t laugh, if you please.”

“Not unless it’s funny,” Sans said lazily.

Fair enough. Frisk shut his eyes for a moment, letting his fingers arrange themselves the way they had whenever he could sneak in some practice back when he was just a priest, a former student who could have a damn second to himself that he didn’t have to account for. People had popped their heads in to check if he really was just playing a borrowed guitar, but he was regarded as such a goody-goody that nobody gave him a hard time. He had stumbled across a few young men taking private moments for themselves or with each other, but he never told…

Well, no point getting angry now. It was too nice to sit near-ish the fire and do nothing useful, just empty his mind of everything but what to do to make the sounds he wanted to play. He wasn’t alone, either; the massive skeleton looming over his shoulder was a warm, solid presence that made the High Priest feel less like he was being monitored and more protected, accepted for whatever he wanted to do—just the pleasure of his company. That was what he’d told Sans back when he gave him his new clothes, wasn’t it?

Now there was an idea, so interesting that Frisk barely noticed himself picking out the bare bones – ha – of a favorite old song. He should really get Sans another set of clothing, something he could change into that wasn’t ragged canvas or just nothing at all. Not that Sans was particularly modest: he hadn’t been bothered by the notion of Frisk forcibly removing him from the bathroom, reminding the human that they were both male and he didn’t have anything private to see. Was that why he kept asking Frisk questions about humans that he could find in any of his textbooks? The notion of fleshy bits that changed consistency and produced weird fluids at inconsistent intervals couldn’t be an appealing one, not to a being made of solid bone.

…

Why did that thought suddenly bother him?

…Dirt, he’d just played a very bad note. The priest mumbled an apology and adjusted his grip, chagrined at ruining a peaceful moment with more of that nonsense. Not for the first time, he reminded himself that it was not all right to let his imagination charge off after someone who was not just under his care, but in his power; it was immoral at best to use Sans to investigate whether his libido – always plenty strong, simply refusing to attach itself to anyone, no matter how attractive they were – might just be resistant to humans. He’d keep relaxing and enjoying his apprentice’s literal support—Sans was close enough that Frisk caught himself about to lean back against his gigantic lower ribs. That was what most top scholars called a “no-no.”

…Was it, though? When Frisk glanced up, he saw Sans closing his sockets, and the skeleton’s expression and body language were so peaceful that Frisk had to smile again. Never mind thoughts of fleshy bits and bones, just enjoy having him here. No more recurring thoughts of how monsters didn’t care about gender or how fond of him Sans might be. No wondering what bone felt like on fleshy bi—on totally normal skin, or whether Sans would let him poke the gaps in his metacarpals…or what bone might feel like on his hands, maybe running along his—

And something happened that Frisk had never experienced before, at least contextually. He was a healthy young man, and he had had his body act out at complete random just as often as anyone else; what had not happened was specifically thinking of one person who was right here and then having a specific reaction to that specific person. And it wasn’t—stopping at all, it was getting worse and he had to focus harder (ha!) on distracting himself. Maybe if he played louder?

There was a sharp sound and a burst of pain, and Frisk dropped the guitar, Sans jerking upright as the priest clutched his hand. “Frisk! What happened?! You okay?”

“I’m fine. The string snapped,” Frisk said tersely, holding it up for the skeleton to see the near-bleeding welt on the back of his hand. At least it was the ideal excuse to rise to his knees and lean forward enough for his nightshirt to hang forward, because the burst of adrenaline had not quieted anything down. “It’s my fault, I even said I shouldn’t play the damn thing—”

And of course, that was Sans’ cue to scowl and give Frisk another jolt by seizing his wrist between his thumb and forefinger, holding him utterly still in a huge, inescapable, but gentle grasp. It was for the best that Frisk froze in place, heat flooding his senses as the boss monster summoned a wisp of green magic. “There we go,” he said after a moment. “All better?” And it might have been okay if he hadn’t absently rubbed Frisk’s forearm with his thumb.

Neither of them would ever be sure exactly how Frisk did it, but the next second, he was somehow on his feet and turning away in a blur of “Thankyouvermch”; before Sans could get a solid look at him, the human was already disappearing into the bathroom and slamming the door.

~

Sans knelt in silence long enough for the blankness to recede and confusion to step into its place. What the fuck was that? Was Frisk really that upset over one crappy judgment call?

…Or…Sans had been watching very close – almost got caught that one time – and he wasn’t sure that he hadn’t seen something. He had read that human males just kind of did that sometimes without meaning to and it was considered hugely embarrassing, which would explain why Frisk had run off like that. Funny, he had never had that problem before in all the time Sans had spent around him, though the boss monster had admittedly tried to avoid looking.

Humans were weird. Sans picked up the guitar very delicately, examining the broken string. Stupid damn thing, he had half a mind to throw it in the fireplace—but that would probably not help. Besides, Frisk had been really happy whenever he wasn’t talking about other humans being stupid. Sans had never seen him so relaxed; it was almost a given that the only people who could boss Frisk around didn’t want him to.

At least Frisk had felt comfortable enough to play with it in front of him. …The guitar. Comfortable enough to play the guitar. Yep. It kind of suck—it was kind of shitty that the dumb thing was unusable now, and fucking stupid that someone this rich and powerful couldn’t get something so simple without…hmmm. Sans daintily retrieved the pick, and got up.

~

Frisk was debating how to leave the bathroom in the most face-saving way when a sound made him nearly fall over: the workroom’s double doors were open and Sans was talking, presumably to the guards. What the—the priest grabbed a towel, speed-dabbed the rest of the cold water away, adjusted his garments, and…hesitated, milliseconds before striding into view wearing his nightclothes. Instead he listened, and thus heard a guard saying, “…you mean…er…sir?”

“Is there some other meanin’ of ‘Gimme some new strings for this thing’?” Sans’ voice was so exaggeratedly polite that Frisk didn’t know whether to laugh or bang his head on the doorframe. “His Eminence has graciously allowed me t’learn about human stuff, and all I can learn from this thing is that guitars need all the strings or they sound like crap. So the next time somebody delivers stuff up here, they can bring ‘em. Right?”

Frisk could almost hear the guards giving each other uncertain looks. “Er…”

“Right. Thank you!” With obscene cheer, the giant skeleton slammed the doors shut. Then he opened them again. “Oh. Wait. Here.” The dirty dishes flew from the table to the trolley, which was shoved out, and the doors slammed again. “There we go, boss,” Sans said over his shoulder. “You good now?”

“…I am. Thank you.” The human took a deep breath, and let it out. “I’m going to take a bath. Read the chapter on topical analgesics, please, and we’ll discuss it before bed. …Sleep. Before we sleep.” And he shut the door again before Sans could respond. He had a lot to think about.

[marvelobsessed134]

“You taste divine”

Pairings: James Hetfield x Innocent!Ulrich!Reader

A/n: back with my innocent!reader brainrot fics I love them so much. Fyi reader is 18 James is like 20 something here so it’s all legal

Warnings: smut, corruption kink, non/dub con, overstimulation, loss of virginity, praise, manipulation, James takes advantage of reader’s innocence, probably not accurate to real life events but it’s fiction so it doesn’t really matter

Ever since James met you, he’s been enamored by you. You’re just so sweet and innocent and he wanted to corrupt you so badly.

It all started when he pulled up to Lars-your brother-‘s house and saw you lying on your tummy in the grass while reading a book under the tree. A delicate white dress adorning your small form. The frontman could feel his mouth watering at the sight. Unfortunately it was interrupted by your brother shouting at him to come inside so they can practice.

“Hey, didn’t know you had a sister.” James said.

Lars shrugged, “Yeah, I usually don’t tell anyone cause everyone wants to bone her. But she doesn’t even know it!” He put his hands in the air as he explained. Meanwhile the guitarists’ pants tightened.

James likes them…oblivious. It was a horribly dark fantasy he has. The need to corrupt a innocent girl.

During practice, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and your sweet aura. Fuck, he had to talk to you. Even if Lars would kill him for doing so.

So one night, while the guys were having a random hangout which turned into a sleepover after they had one too many drinks, James creeped his way up to you room. The soft glow from your light peaked through the hallway and he walked inside to see your very girly pink room.

And there you were, on your tummy again but this time on your bed while you sketched something in a notebook. The blonde closed the door behind him making you jump and your head snap in the direction of the sound.

“James?” Your soft sweet voice sounded through the quiet room.

“Hey Y/n.” He responded before walking over and sitting on your bed, “Whatcha drawin’ there?” He motioned towards your notebook.

“Just some bunny rabbits cause I don’t know.” You blushed and giggled.

“You look like a little bunny rabbit.” The blonde said with a smile as he lightly pinched your cheek. You blushed more “Jamie.” You giggled. Oh god he loves when you call him that. Rarely would he ever let someone use that nickname for him but you? You can use it all you want.

“Hey do you mind if I hang out in here with you tonight? The guys are all passed out.”

“Sure.”

He took his shoes off and got comfortable on your bed. Then he leaned forward and grabbed you by your waist making you squeal in surprise before sitting you on his lap.

“James! You can’t do that!” You scolded but you were laughing.

“And why’s that?” He teased, tickling your side making you laugh and squirm, “Lars doesn’t like when- oh my goodness stop that tickles! When boys touch me.”

“Yeah? Well he’s not here now is he?” The frontman replied, stopping his tickling but moving his hand up your shirt towards your breasts.

“J-James what are you doing?” You asked dumbly.

“I just think you’re beautiful and I want to play with you, is it so difficult to understand?” Of course, you don’t know any better so you let him fondle your breasts making you moan at the foreign feeling.

“Can you take your shirt off for me baby?” You complied, taking your little white lace cami off to reveal your bare chest. His hands both came up behind you and tweaked your nipples, rolling them around in his fingers. “Jamie!” You gasped.

“Feels good doesn’t it honey?” You nodded, still a little unsure.

“Can you lay down for me?” The blonde asked gently and you nodded once again, lying down next to where he was sitting on your bed. He got up and tossed your sketchbook and pencils haphazardly onto the ground and pulled your legs so you’d get close to the edge of your bed. He carefully pulled your shorts and panties off, “Spread those legs for me baby. I just want to see how pretty you look down there.” His tone was so gentle and trusting. You had no idea how he really felt. How he was finally getting his perverse fantasy to come true.

As instructed, you spread your legs. “Oh god, look at that little pussy.” You didn’t know what any of those words meant minus the ‘oh god’ part but you felt like you could trust James, he’d never do anything to hurt you right? He’s older than you and knows more than you.

The guitarist slipped his finger up your folds making you jerk your hips up and hiss. You’re so sensitive down there. He licks his finger clean before getting down on his knees and licking a bold stripe against your pussy.

“Oh!” You moaned in surprise. The singer chuckled against you sending vibrations throughout your body. He continued to eat you out causing you to shiver and shake under him from all the newly found pleasure you experienced.

You felt yourself get overwhelmed with this tingly feeling in your cunt and you tried to back away to make James stop, “Please, James stop! It’s too much I don’t know what going on too tingly n’ itchy- oh!” You screamed out in pleasure as your first ever orgasm hit you like a truck.

“So good baby, oh my god you taste divine.” He moaned as he lapped up all your cum before standing up to check on you. He pressed a kiss to your lips before undoing his belt and letting his jeans and boxers fall to the floor.

His dick sprang to life hitting his stomach before he guided it to your core, rubbing it up and down your folds making you gasp, “What are you doing now?” You asked a little nervously.

“I’m playing with you, remember?” He didn’t want you to know exactly what he was doing to keep a tiny bit of your innocence for his own sick pleasure. He slowly entered your tight hole making you hiss in pain, “James stop! That hurts!” You cried but he kept entering you, staying still for a bit to let you adjust to the feeling.

Once you calmed down he started to thrust himself inside, and the pain you felt quickly turned to pleasure as he hit your g spot over and over. James gripped your hips as he fucked you.

“Fuuuck so perfect for me. Taking my dick so good.” He growled as he upped the pace making you moan and cry out. He didn’t care if anyone heard the two of you, he was too caught up in the moment.

“Jamie!” You cried out as you felt your second orgasm arriving and hitting you again making your vision white for a second. “You’re such a good girl letting your brother’s friend play with you like this.” The vocalist moaned before he pulled out of you to shoot his load on your tummy.

He scooped up his own cum with his finger and brought it to your mouth, “open.” He commanded and you did as he said, taking his finger in your mouth and tasting the salty release.

“Good girl.”

[kingcrow01]

DC/Marvel Pool Noodle Party 2024

Week 5 | Mercs & Murder Husbands

Marc Spector & Harley Quinn, 0 fics!

@dc-marvel-crossovers

Here’s the outline of the event for those interested. TLDR, This event celebrates relationship tags that have less than 30 works on ao3, both platonic and romantic. The rarest of rarepairs!

Inspired by Harley harassing interacting with Marc and Damian in chapter 20 of in labyrinths of reflections by @blackkatmagic, specifically these lines:

“Fuck the hell off,” he growls, and gets a hand on her face as she tries to kiss his mask. She’s wearing a lot of lipstick, and he'd rather not run around the rest of the night with a black lip-print on his face. 

and

Harley blinks at him, big eyes and blond pigtails and smeared makeup that makes her look like a raccoon with a hangover, and then laughs. 

Ho-ly-shit, I cannot begin to express how happy I am with this piece! Initially I was having a hard time with MK’s suit, to the point that I was contemplating just dropping the whole project. (I hate drawing superhero suits, why do I keep on doing this to myself) Like always, all it came down to was retaking my ref and utilizing that handy-dandy line of action, and I finished it pretty easily after that.

Damian was a last minute add-on, and I wanted to draw him on Marc’s right side and a head taller (kids are bigger than you think!) but I ran out of room on the page. I ran into the same problem with Harley’s mallet; I wanted it to be bigger, but with the angle it had to sit at to rest against her thigh, I kept it on the smaller side. 

This piece has made it very clear how limiting my sketchbooks’ size is. For example, I have an idea for another week in this event, but it literally wouldn't fit in this sketchbook so I’m not going to make it. Digital art 1: traditional, 0.

I tried out a new lining style as well, and I’m never going back. Before, I was making every line the same width, but it’s SO much more impactful with alternating line thickness! I attached the lined final sketch below. Do you see how much of a difference it makes?? (Written early May, so I've been using this style since.)

Details:

I think it’s silly that Harley’s boots are covered in blood, but not her actual weapon lol

Harley is as tall as she is because she’s standing on her toes in platform boots

The tattoo on Harley’s midsection is of ivy leaves (though, it’s not poison ivy) as a sort of homage to Ivy. Not that she’s dead or anything. They’re just. Lovers. So, tattoo.

I got to put NO WORK into shading the black parts of MK’s suit, and that was FABULOUS

I wanted to give her colored shoe laces, because I love small details like that. I would love to give characters any color of laces, but some of them seem to have negative meanings, especially on Doc Martens, so I went the safe route and gave her purple laces, which represents gay pride. Yes, I know she’s bisexual, but I felt like I didn’t have many options.

[smallpwbbles]

She didn’t get that sketch book back

Quick fic for my Biolizard shadow au taking place pre Ark incident, just some nice fluff between Maria and Shadow

Feel free to criticise the fuck outta this, haven’t written a fic since I was like 13, did feel nice to write this though, hopefully I can turn write a longer fic for the au like I said I wanted to do

Maria was beginning to get restless, it had been a long week full of tests, resting, recovering and just a general sense of stagnation. The days were beginning to phase into a repetitive cycle and while she could manage with it, she couldn’t say it wasn’t beginning to get boring.

Her studies were just finishing up, she had once again been bested by her least favourite subject, math. Maria was quite smart for her age, a symptom of being a Robotnik no doubt, however math had such a way with turning her brain to mush. She was sick enough as it was, she didn’t need the subject doing away with her mind too.

Her notebook and sticky notes were packed away in a cute little cubby adorably stuck with a tag with her name on it, next to hers was an empty cubby addressed with the name Shadow, it was unfortunate that with the monstrous hedgehogs seemingly unending growth spurts came the ability to not fit almost anywhere on the Ark, apart for his enclosure of course.

Maria put a hand to the unused cubby, she very much missed studying in the classroom with Shadow, but her grandfather did allow for studies to be taught with Shadow in the enclosure when they were both on best behaviour, the old man may be a stickler but was an absolute softie at heart.

Gerald was erasing the algebra on the blackboard with a content smile, Maria could see he was in quite a good mood today which was especially great as the week of tests wasn’t just unfortunate to her. As Shadow was due for many tests to check on the state of his growth, Gerald and his team spent many weeks trying to get it under control right after Shadow had begun to increase in size rapidly.

The scientists had all done their best but to an ailing Shadow, who had to be okay with needles and diagrams shoved in and around him, he was at best irate and at worst, down right hostile. One of the testing scientists was still recovering in the first aid section of the Ark after a particularly vexed Shadow struck out. He was “grounded” after such an incident, which doesn’t mean much when you’re 35 feet and can kill a person with minimal effort, but it meant Maria couldn’t see him at the moment.

That wasn’t gonna stop her from trying.

“Grandfather! Studies were absolutely wonderful today, I feel maths gets easier and easier each time you teach it to me” Maria lied. Her plan was to butter him up, get him in an even better mood, maybe then he would feel lenient enough to let her stay in the enclosure with Shadow.

“It makes me glad to hear that Maria my dear, maths has always been an essential subject matter in the world of education, why I’ve loved maths ever since I was a young tot, you know I solved my first problem when I was just 3 years old-“ Gerald kept on. Oh no, she got him rambling, maybe she could shoot her shot and just ask outright. The last time he rambled it put her right to sleep on her desk, it hurt his feelings but the second she started hearing percentages her brain shut it down.

“May I see Shadow today!?” She hadn’t meant to blurt it out so outright but she felt the ramble was about to edge towards fractions and decimals and she quite had enough of those today

Gerald’s animated ramblings stopped in an instant and he faced his granddaughter who was doing her best to charm him with her childish adorable appeal

He hummed and hawed for a moment before shaking his head “Now Maria I know you miss Shadow very much but he is in trouble at the moment”

A wave of defensiveness washed over Maria as she recounted Shadow was currently punished due to actions he did in a moment of stress and anger, she felt in the same position she would have struck out or at the very least gave that scientist a good old raspberry, she was still proud she taught Shadow that, Gerald didn’t need to know that though.

“Oh but Grandfather, it’s been more than a week, I’m sure Shadow has learned his lesson” Maria begged.

“He growled at one of our scientists who came for a check up this morning, one he particularly likes mind you” he retorted

“I mean it could be a bit of that teenage rebellion you’re always claiming me to have when I’m not happy to see you in the morning” She countered.

“I-“ Gerald stopped himself and put a finger to his lip, honestly he couldn’t dismiss that. As Shadow continued to grow he picked up more behaviours Gerald could attribute to the traditional development of adolescence. It still had him flabbergasted as he recalled Shadow sticking his tongue right at Gerald one time during studies.

“None the matter, I don’t want you getting hurt in there because of the irritation he’s at right now” Gerald commanded. Maria deflated, this definitely wasn’t going out the way she has planned.

“He would never! Shadow absolutely adores us, he wouldn’t hurt us” Maria argued, she trusted this 100%. Although around most people some could say Shadow could be careless, Maria and Gerald were of a select few that Shadow handled with the upmost care and caution. Maria could just about get away with doing anything around Shadow, if not for her sickness she would most definitely use the gigantic hedgehog as a playground.

At quiet times before lights were out, when allowed she would curl up in Shadows large claws, it amazed her how still and gentle he could be, she felt like a glass doll in his hands as she deducted he was so still in fear of jostling her. It saddened her that Shadow was at such a state he felt even the slightest movements would hurt her.

Gerald put a palm to his head, “I know he wouldn’t hurt you on purpose Maria, but Shadow can forget himself sometimes, need I remind you of Steven, who is in the infirmary because of Shadows actions?” He scolded. Maria didn’t have a retort for that, she could defend shadow as much as she liked but it didn’t change that he had indeed hurt someone.

She looked down to her dress skirt and gripped the fabric of it, she knew better than to act like a brat not getting their way but she was getting irate, one more plea, and if no results she would would back down, lest she get into an argument with her grandfather and end up in trouble herself.

“I’ve just felt absolutely restless. I understand he’s in trouble grandfather but he always behaves around me, I could even go in there and get him to apologise! He’s usually nicer after I give him a good talking to” Maria gripped her skirt harder, she was honest about getting him to apologise, she didn’t want him thinking what he had done to that scientist was okay.

Gerald studied her for a moment before letting out a defeated sign, the softie in him had won, he hated seeing Maria as desperate as she was, and she was not wrong. Maria’s presence seemed to greatly improve Shadows mood the most

“Fine, you can see him” Maria almost jumped up in excitement but steeled herself, it didn’t stop her from looking absolutely giddy “but you are not to rile him up in any way, and if I feel you are in danger you are to come out, understand” Gerald instructed.

Maria gave a silly salute, she couldn’t help it knowing her plan came around “loud and clear!”

——————————————————————

He was clearly pouting when she got to the viewing windows of Shadows enclosure, he was lying on his side and had his back to the large reinforced windows, so nobody could see his face. It was cute to Maria, he always did this getting in trouble.

He was also very still, she actually couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not in that position, a second later when he turned his head slightly to notice her presence confirmed he was indeed awake. Shadow had quite the ability to sense the people around him without anyone else knowing they were there. He glared at her before immediately curling in on himself, she had no idea how someone that big could make themselves look smaller but he was managing quite well.

She put her hands to the window, the glare he just gave her hadn’t put her off, he clearly wasn’t as happy to see her as she thought he would be but that was her gigantic, hedgehog, lizard buddy in need and she hadn’t almost got on her knees and begged to see him for nothing.

3 little taps to the glass, Maria did this just to give him a warning whenever she was coming in, in response Shadow seemed to curl further in on himself, he almost looked like a gigantic spiky ball.

Maria made a small trek down a compact set of Stairs to some steel doors that led into the enclosure, there was a code box right next to the doors that needed an input only Maria, Gerald and some trusted scientists knew. Quickly putting in 4 digits, her birthday as predictably done by her grandfather, Maria bounced in excitement as the doors painstakingly opened.

The chamber was quiet and smelled of lavender, Maria had recommended a calming smell might tide over Shadow to act nicer during testing, while it hadn’t, he still very much enjoyed the smell.

Maria encountered the big ball of black and red quills and scales, he was very much still pouting and didn’t seem to want to acknowledge her. She gave a couple pats to what she could assume was his tail but it was quite hard to tell as curled up as he was.

Shadow gave no response to indicate he felt the pats so she grabbed a few quills and gave a small tug, she didn’t want to tug hard as she’d definitely get cut if he bristled his quills in response, yet he still gave no reaction.

Oh he was really having quite the tantrum today. She put her hands to her hips and gave the giant wall of quills a tired look

“Shadow it’s me! Are you not happy to see me?” Maria yelled up at him.

If he was, he gave no reciprocation. It humbled her quite intensely as it was a first for Shadow to completely ignore her.

She looked down at her shoes and decided if he was gonna be the Debbie of downers she would use other means of entertainment. She pulled out her small sketch pad that conveniently fit in her skirt pockets. It was a great source of distraction when she had nothing to do or nobody to talk to.

She walked over to some worn down chairs that were placed carefully far to one end of the enclosure, they were initially placed there for observation of Shadow but it was an overestimated idea as most scientists didn’t have the nerve to be in the same room as Shadow for more than 5 minutes. Maria abused this section of the enclosure to benefit her creative devices and made Shadow the subject of most of her sketches.

It was about 5 minutes into drawing when she had stopped drawing Shadow as doodling a curled up spiky ball hadn’t been as fun as she thought. She looked up from her sketch pad as Shadow began to unfurl, as he stretched out she heard some of his bones crack back into place, bones cracking was already an unnerving sound to her, hearing it at Shadows size was something entirely else so she couldn’t help the look that came on her face.

Shadow stopped his stretching to study her, he smirked at the unsettled face Maria made as it was quite an amusing expression for her to pull, the smirked made her a little irate considering how rudely he was to ignore her just before.

“I see you got tired of pouting” Maria huffed, Shadow simply stuck her tongue at her, she gasped in shock and stook up immediately, absolutely aghast he would use such a move on her of all people, she kind of wish she hadn’t taught him that now.

“That’s absolutely- why I never- you are such a rude-“ she couldn’t make up her mind what to say in response. Shadow sat on his hind legs and looked at her in amusement, to anyone who could have been outside the enclosure, the sight of a young blond girl yelling and scolding the near 40 foot giant beast was bewildering.

“It’s no wonder grandfather didn’t want me to see you, with you acting like such a brat I have half a mind to walk out of here, are you even sorry for what you did?!” Maria furiously turned her back to him and folded her arms, if she looked back she would have seen Shadow flinch at the question. “The scientists are doing the best to help you and you had someone sent into first aid!” She grumbled.

Maria heard some loud shuffling then the room shook for a moment, she steadied herself and looked back to see Shadow had repositioned himself with his back to her. She didn’t know why the sight infuriated her more but it just seemed like he wanted to be insanely difficult today.

She began to march over to him, about to give him a peace of her mind. However when she traversed enough to get a even look at what she assumed would be a unremorseful smug smirk, she was met with a regretful furrowed brow, his red crimson irises met her blue azure ones and he instantly looked away and brought his arms up to hold himself. He wouldn’t look back at her.

Maria began to calm herself, one look at him told her what she knew, of course he felt bad for what he did. She wanted to give herself a right slap for forgetting herself, he obviously found it hard to talk about what happened, she shouldn’t have expected him to be right and ready to talk as soon as she walked through those doors.

She slowly came closer and put a hand to his ankle, that was as much as she could reach at his current sat up stance. He dared a glance down at her tiny form and again looked away, she could feel the giant begin to tremble, she then heard as an unmistakable voice rasped out “…didn’t mean to”.

His voice rumbled throughout her body as her heart wrenched at that statement. She believed it without question, he was gentle and caring, she was tired after the week long tests. Maria could only imagine what it was like for him after being poked and prodded for hours on end.

“I know” she comforted. She really did wish he was at least a little smaller, it was really hard to comfort someone who has a hand as big as your entire body.

She could attempt to climb up his leg but she really didn’t want to risk getting Gerald upset with her if she was to exacerbate her already strained lungs. She motioned at shadow with her hand and got his attention “Shadow your hand please” she gently commanded

He knew what she was asking and took a hand off his person to reach her, only seeing his claws near her had him stop for a moment which Maria noticed. “You would never hurt me” she assured. He gently scooped her up and cupped his other hand to the one holding her.

Shadow brought up a safely secured Maria up to his face in which she at once assaulted him with a full face hug, it surprised him for a moment but he instantly melted into it. She did this when she knew he was even a bit upset. He did find the gesture embarrassing but appreciated it all the same.

Maria nuzzled into his muzzle harder, she’d be finding fur in her dress for ages but she didn’t mind, the priority was Shadow. She was glad he was remorseful, it would have been alarming if she had to explain why it’s wrong to send someone into the infirmary but Shadow seemed to grasp the consequences of the event that transpired.

“You are going to apologise once Steven is out of the infirmary aren’t you?” She left his muzzle alone finally and looked up at him, he seemed embarrassed at such a request but knew he couldn’t argue with something that was the least he could do. He nodded firmly and hoped it would be enough to satisfy Maria.

It definitely was as she once again came full force with a hug to his muzzle, he did wish he could return such a gesture properly but he’d definitely crush the poor girl with such a return, instead he just leaned his face into her arms, she was such a tiny thing to him but the action warmed his heart so immensely he’d almost forgotten why he was mad in the first place.

Maria plopped back into his palm, content with her job as “the Shadow whisperer”, as she had oddly dubbed herself in her mind. She wished she could converse with him about all the events that transpired while he had been “grounded” but it mostly included tests which was the furthest thing she was sure both of them wanted to talk about. In that moment she remembered the little notepad she was doodling in earlier.

Shadow watched as she fought to relieve her pocket of the sketch pad and as she flicked through a few pages of quite nice and detailed drawings of him and a few familiar faces he’d seen on the Ark, his interested peaked as he watched her turn to her recent pages and she chortled, Maria shakily stood up on Shadows surprisingly soft palm and held the sketch pad to Shadow, who’s interested promptly died when he saw a drawing of a spiky ball which had been nicely detailed with an annotate to tell whoever was reading the ball was a “grumpy pouty shadow”.

Maria watched Shadows face fall flat and couldn’t help that roar of laughter that immediately escaped her, this only continued to irritate the humongous hedgehog. He brought over his other hand that didn’t have a laughing Maria in it and swiftly brought it over his palm, Maria yelled out a panicked “NO WAIT-“ as he did so. He didn’t hurt her, he just gave her a quick squish to shut her up. That seemed to do the job as he opened his palms to a silence Maria who had her hair adorably scruffy from the attack “I hate it when you do that, I totally deserved it though” she concluded

He snickered at that and she gave him a quick punch to his pinkie finger

——————————————————————

Maria had lost track of the time she had been in the enclosure after 2 hours. She wasn’t worried she’d been in too long as her Grandfather had cameras in the chamber and would have called her out if he wanted her out.

She had returned to her drawings while she was cradled in Shadows palms. She was absolutely engrossed in her current drawing and hadn’t noticed Shadow wasn’t giving input or feedback on her drawings anymore.

The palm she was in suddenly jerked and she had to grab one of his fingers to keep from losing balance, her sketch pad had fallen to the ground when the motion happened. She looked up when she was steadied and saw Shadow, he seemed to have not noticed what he had done. Honestly he seemed quite out of it, she quickly realised the poor thing was fighting sleep and must have accidentally jerked back to being half awake.

“Shadow” Maria called, his eyes opened fully to address her but immediately went back to being half lidded. “Are you tired? I can leave so you can get some rest” she offered.

He stubbornly shook his head and cupped his other hand under her, normally he would have let her go off when she wanted and went back to doing as he did alone in the enclosure but she was sure it was his sleepy brain not wanting her to leave and he was acting upon that.

“Alright alright, don’t have a fuss I’m not going anywhere, even if I could” he had brought his hand close enough that she could reach a particular spot under his muzzle, she gave it a few scritches and had to steel herself when he began purring, it was an intense and loud sound that she feel sending waves through her entire body but she bared it.

He leaned into it, and began to literally lean his entire body’s forward when the feeling of the scratches began to calm his already tired mind, Maria had to stop and immediately grabbed onto anything she could, which was his ring finger as Shadow fell forward, the enclosure shook from the weight of him falling and Maria waited for the vibrations to die down, she hoped her grandfather was not watching the cameras at that moment as she could of accidentally been hurt, she could hear and feel the vibrations of Shadows quiet snores as it confirmed he has simply fallen asleep.

She hopped off his palm to trek to his face, give him a quick hug. Her mission was to now find her sketch pad, that last drawing she was engrossed with had come along really well and she wanted to show her grandfather how her art skills were coming out. Her face turned grief stricken when she realised her sketch pad had fallen where Shadow lay asleep right now, if he rolled over which she knew he was guaranteed to do, it was completely over for that drawing as well as her entire sketch pad.

Maria inhaled and then exhaled. The stories of the superheroes her grandfather read to her had to go through sacrifice, and right now as the shadow whisperer, she could definitely say she was going through sacrifice right now.

[riggedbones]

ok now that chapter 2 of my fic is out I can finally share nearly everything consequence related I've been drawing over the last two months. so let's start with my design process!

it's probably pretty obvious, but I wanted consequence's design to pretty closely mirror loop's. I don't want to go into all of the reasoning behind what I decided to keep similar and what I decided should be distinct (some of it is spoilers for my fic), but generally I kept a lot of the more general design elements that seem to be a result of whatever the fuck wish craft did to make loop Like That. loop is naked? consequence is naked. loop has an objecthead? consequence has an objecthead. loop has a shape on their chest? consequence has a shape on its chest.

this all being said, I did also want to make sure that consequence was distinct. of course. my initial focus was pretty resolutely on the objecthead, as you can see in my first page of concept sketches, but I did explore some other elements early on as well!

you can also see my first concept sketch for odile's death screen, and just a smidge for the looping animation that is something i might also animate for a chapter, who knows.

more drawings and discussion under the cut, i'm realizing this is getting a bit long.

i had the node object head concept on that first page, but it was definitely something that needed iteration. which is where this page came in. i settled on the diamond shaped geode at around this point too, but was still struggling a tad on what to do with the general body texture. this was also, clearly, WAY too many squares. my beta kris told me as much.

i may be an animator but by god i love making my designs as animation unfriendly as possible sometimes. still wouldn't call consequence animation friendly at all, but i've done a lot since to cut back on the sheer volume of squares.

this was my second pass in an attempt to cut down on the complexity, still way too many squares, but this is when i started drawing the head as a foreground later of nodes with a more abstract cloud of squares behind. for the most part, just shading behind the foreground layer is still how i draw the head traditionally.

aaand then i started playing around digitally and i realized i did not like how that looked digitally. these are both doodles i did via mouse (for the second one i traced an odile sprite to help with proportions), so they're a bit looser in general, but this exercise generally let me know that i needed to slightly rethink how i was going to express the idea digitally.

because this, the final talksprite design i landed on, looks more complicated, but between the smaller amount of foreground squares and the fact that the ones in the background were just made with the rectangle tool, it's honestly not that bad. a pain to replicate? sure! but id5 reused loop's head shape for all of their art in the game, so i can do that too.

i think i solidified the idea of its body having strata before the talksprite (not sure which doodles that would be), but doing the talksprite really helped solidify the idea of a gradient in my mind, and also is where i decided on the textural element. i also decided to look at a reference image for the geode. that helped a Lot.

...i still do like drawing a more simplified consequence though. the key in my eyes is to just get the general shape of the head down, make sure you get a few of the squares floating in the air, and emphasize the nodes around its eyes. also make sure the eyes are offset vertically, it REALLY helps with the character of the design, sometimes i'll doodle a connie quence and think it looks a bit mid, move the eye on its left up, and then boom it's fine.

or you can just not do that because you drew it 2 crumbs big lol

[aurumacadicus]

Pride Pocket 15--Saddle Me Up

Kink belongs at Pride. I will not be arguing a fact.

For background, Tony was almost kidnapped by Doom and they're all a little out of sorts of how close he came to succeeding. Just need a nice little scene to decompress probably. You can also find this fic on ao3 (here). It's 5K so look out for under the cut!

--

Bucky had brought out one of the Sybian saddles, the one with the thrusting attachments instead of the twisting ones. Tony stared at it from where he was standing at attention next to Steve. Normally he brought out both, gave them the controls, and whoever got the other to come first got the prize of Bucky fucking him. Tony hadn’t won very often, but even losing had been nice, left to shake and whimper on the saddle as he watched Steve bouncing in Bucky’s lap. But there was only one out now. Was it a reward? Punishment? A new game?

“One of you is going on the saddle,” Bucky said, and Tony’s eyes darted back to him. He smirked at them, filthy and mean. “The other goes on the rider’s dick.”

Tony couldn’t help a glance at Steve, hands gripping into fists behind his back. Steve would have to go on the saddle. As much as Tony tried to argue he was just as strong as either of the super soldiers, he knew that his knees couldn’t take even half of Steve’s weight for an extended period of time. He was built like a brick house and just as heavy. He took a moment to be disappointed about not being the one on the saddle, then straightened his shoulders again. Bucky obviously had plans, and he rarely ever missed his mark.

Bucky didn’t do them the disservice of pretending that Tony being on the Sybian was an option, instead reaching out to grab Tony’s chin and jaw and grip tight, just the way he knew Tony liked it. He forced Tony’s head back a little further to force eye contact. “You like squirmin’ on Stevie’s cock, don’t you, doll?”

“Yes,” Tony mewled, because he did. He’d never really considered himself a size queen before he’d fallen into bed with the super soldier duo, but Steve’s dick was so big that it took everything in him to remember to even breathe, he was so overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. He swallowed thickly against Bucky’s fingers, breath shuddering in his chest as he tried not to sag in Bucky’s grip.

“Think you can hold off coming on his cock, sweetheart?” Bucky drawled, using his grip around Tony’s neck to draw him in, close enough to feel his breath over his lips. “If you outlast Steve, I’ll let you come on mine while Steve sucks you off. What do you say, doll? You gonna be my good boy?”

Tony whimpered, hands coming up to grab Bucky’s wrist. “Yes,” he whispered, too afraid his voice would crack if he spoke louder.

Bucky’s smirk was absolutely filthy. “And maybe, if Steve does a good job, we can put you on the saddle after, so he can sketch you. Steve deserves a reward for being a good boy too, don’t you think?”

Tony nodded, hands tightening around Bucky’s wrist as he gulped again, knees going weak at the idea. “Yes.”

“God, you’re so slutty, I’m so lucky to have you,” Bucky sighed fondly, other hand reaching back to palm his ass and squeeze. He leaned in to press a kiss to Tony’s gasping lips, then leaned back, raising an eyebrow at Steve. “You need help gettin’ on the saddle, doll?”

“I can do it myself. Should I get pillows for Tony’s knees?” Steve asked, eyeing the cupboard where he kept his art supplies wantonly. Clearly, he was looking forward to his possible reward as well.

“I’ll get them,” Bucky replied, finally releasing Tony’s neck and jaw to slide his other hand back to his ass as well.

Tony whimpered again as Bucky pulled him in, pressing them together chest to chest, hip to hip, hands kneading his ass and pulling his cheeks apart playfully. “Buck…”

“Yeah, I’ve got you, doll,” Bucky drawled, fingers sliding in further, spreading him almost to the point of discomfort. He let go of one cheek so that he could wrap his free hand around the flange of the plug keeping him spread open and tugged, not hard enough to pull it out in one go, but enough that Tony could tell he wanted to.

Tony let out a keen and jerked his head back, going up on his toes to try and escape his hand. “Oh!”

Bucky gave him a chiding slap on the ass. “Hold still.”

Tony leaned forward to bury his face in Bucky’s chest, mumbling a half-hearted apology as his feet went flat again. His toes curled as Bucky returned to pulling on the plug, a moan escaping his lips as Bucky rocked it back and forth to wiggle it out of him. He lifted his hands to clutch at Bucky’s shirt, fighting the urge to go up on his toes again, lest the next slap go from chiding to properly punishing him. He couldn’t help the guttural ‘ugh’ that escaped his lips as Bucky finally pulled the plug free, blush coming to his cheeks as Bucky pressed the tip to his hole again and pushed teasingly so he could feel how well he stretched around it.

Steve let out a groan behind him, and Tony turned, feeling another rush of jealousy as he saw that Steve had fully seated himself on the dildo attachment, the leather of the saddle beneath him dark between his pale thighs. It was gone as quickly as it came though, and he couldn’t help but swallow thickly when he saw that Steve’s cock was already half hard, and as he rocked himself back and forth on his knees to make sure he got into a comfortable position, it quickly firmed up to full hardness. He was starting to have doubts he’d make it all the way onto Steve’s dick before he came, let alone before Steve got there himself.

Bucky grabbed his chin to turn him back and draw him into a long, deep kiss that made his toes curl again. Tony melted into it, licking into his mouth, and whined when he finally pulled back, just far enough that he could no longer kiss him, breath fanning out onto his face hot and damp. “You’re so needy, it’s hard to remember I need to show restraint,” Bucky huffed, and Tony couldn’t swallow back the needy whimper that proved it true if he tried, because Bucky was also smiling, so. He probably wasn’t upset by it.

“You can go stand by Steve,” Bucky finally said, and there was steel to his voice now. It made Tony stand up a bit straighter, focus a bit more closely, forget the way Bucky had been kissing him just a moment ago. “But you don’t get to lower yourself onto his dick until I get there so we can both situate you.”

Tony’s lips parted, a petulant ‘I can do it myself’ on his tongue. But when he looked up at Bucky, it shriveled away, and all he could manage was an embarrassed, mumbled ‘yes, sir’ because Bucky’s eyes were cold, calculating, almost like he was waiting for Tony to do something that he could punish. This wasn’t one of the times he could be sassy, Tony realized, walking over to stand by Steve obediently. They were all still too keyed up from the… incident at the last battle with Doom.

Bucky needed control after feeling helpless. Steve needed to let go of control and be told what to do after feeling the weight of everyone’s needs on the field. Tony… wasn’t exactly sure what he needed. He still felt too messy inside. So much had happened in such a short amount of time—things usually did when battles went off the rails. But he trusted Bucky and Steve to know for him. They always seemed to know exactly what he needed. He’d just have to trust that they’d know this time, too.

Steve reached out toward him once he came close enough, and Tony allowed himself to be towed in, letting out a little chuff of air as Steve wrapped his arms around his thighs and held him close, mouthing at his hip because he knew he hadn’t been given permission to go for Tony’s dick. Apparently, he also wasn’t willing to cross Bucky right now, could sense how tightly wound he was. Tony dug his fingers into Steve’s hair, holding him in place. He was suddenly quite afraid that he’d simply fall over if he didn’t have Steve holding him up.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Bucky said, his flesh hand clasping the back of his neck, and Tony huffed at the warm, steady heat of his grip. “Just needed a moment to settle, hmm? Steve, stop manspreading on the fuckin’ saddle.”

Tony peeled his eyes open, blinking slowly, just in time to watch Steve’s knees jerk in toward the saddle. They settled against the leather with a dull knock. He couldn’t help a quiet, helpless giggle at how petulant Steve’s pout was. He really did like to spread out when he could. But then, Tony thought, eyes finally drawn to Steve’s hard cock, he had a reason for it.

“Hungry for it, aren’t you?” Bucky asked, and Tony was nodding before he even realized what he’d been asked, forcing his gaze back up so he could tip his head back and give Bucky a slow, syrupy blink. Bucky slid his arm around his waist and drew him back against him. "You’re falling a little further than I thought, doll.”

Tony blinked again. Was he? He thought he was fine. They were going to sit him on Steve’s cock, and he wasn’t going to come so they could both get rewarded for it, and it would be good. He would be good for them. He wanted to be good. “Please let me be good,” he whispered, just for good measure. He didn’t want them to think he was having second thoughts. He just wanted to please them. It didn’t matter how deep he went.

Bucky pressed the backs of his fingers to Tony’s chin, and Tony followed his gentle pushing, tipping his head back against Bucky’s shoulder. “You’re always good for me, sugar,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to his exposed throat. “So good for me an’ Steve. —Okay,” he added, the sharpness in his voice making Tony’s eyes shoot open again.

He hadn’t even realized they’d closed. Bucky’s arm had tightened around his waist, and Tony realized belatedly that Steve had reached out and clamped his hands around his hips, eyes wide and mouth dropped open in shock. His knees had given out, he realized belatedly. He’d almost collapsed where he stood, too focused on basking in Bucky’s approval, in Steve’s desire.

“I want to be good,” Tony blurted, hands coming up to grip Bucky’s arm, squeezing desperately. “Please let me be good. I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I can be—”

“You are good, doll,” Bucky cut in, and Tony bit his bottom lip against more babbled pleas. Bucky’s voice had gone back to that low drawl, so he couldn’t be mad. Could he? His hand slid up and down Tony’s stomach. “So good for us both. But I don’t think you’re in any condition for what we planned.”

Tony’s heart sank to his toes. “I can,” he tried desperately. “I can be good. I won’t come until you say and I’ll be able to sit on the saddle for Steve and—”

“What do you need, Tony?” Steve asked gently, cutting him off. His thumbs had started rubbing gentle circles over the jut of Tony’s hipbones. It was nice.

Not nice enough to make him think he was getting out of this, though. Tony sucked in a wet breath, ashamed of how weak he felt in front of them. They were never weak. Not in front of him. They were super soldiers. They always knew exactly what they needed. He was the one who had to figure out what he needed from them each time they stepped into the bedroom.

And he still didn’t know. He had nothing to tell them. Tony worked his jaw, but no words would come. He just felt… messy inside. Like he’d been broken apart and put back together wrong, but he was the only one who could see it. All he knew was what he wanted, and what he wanted was to be good, but how could he be good if he dropped and they had to take extra care of him? He might not know what he needed, but he knew what he didn’t need, and that was being a burden that Steve and Bucky had to deal with when they were both already keyed up.

“Okay,” Bucky said again, gentler this time, and carefully turned Tony in his arms so he was facing him. “I think I know exactly what you need, doll.”

Tony felt the words ‘you do?’ desperately pressing against his lips, but he kept them bitten back. He didn’t want to seem like he was questioning him. Bucky had never been wrong before, anyway. Of course Bucky knew what he needed.

Bucky tipped his head, pressing his lips to the corner of Tony’s mouth, his cheek, his ear. “I think you just need to be held.”

Tony couldn’t help the way his breath hitched in his throat. That sounded… really nice. Both Bucky and Steve had joked about becoming his personal weighted blankets at one point or another, although he personally thought that they were way better, a steady weight and heat just spread out on top of him, gentle fingers carding through his hair and soft lips pressing against his skin. Maybe that was what he needed, to be wrapped in their arms, feeling them solid and alive around him. “Will you still think I’m good?” he asked, just to make sure, and he wished his voice hadn’t come out sounding small and hesitant, because he wasn’t a small and hesitant man. But he still didn’t want to be wrong. He didn’t think he could handle upsetting them.

“You’re always good for us, doll,” Bucky assured him, hand coming around to clamp the back of his neck again, just the way he liked it. “You still wanna sit on Stevie’s dick?”

Tony unlocked his knees in answer, sagging in Bucky’s grip again, but he didn’t fall far this time with Bucky’s arm around his waist, Steve’s hands carefully but firmly tightening around his hips. Maybe to be held really was all he needed, he mused, only vaguely aware that Bucky was swearing and rocking on his heels to make sure he didn’t just topple over on top of Steve.

“You’re gonna drive me to drinking,” Bucky huffed, but there was no heat to it. Maybe humor, if Tony allowed himself to think about his tone rather than making a grabby hand in the direction of Steve’s still-hard cock. “Incorrigible. That shouldn’t be cute. You’re so annoying.”

“Can I put him on my cock now please,” Steve cut in before Bucky could say anything else, and Tony watched the way Steve’s dick twitched where it stood between his thighs at just the thought.

“Fine,” Bucky groused, and Steve’s mouth spread into a wide, guileless smile as he took Tony’s weight through the grip he still had on his hips. “Slow, though, so I can wedge these pillows under his knees just right.”

Steve nodded obediently, and Tony moaned quietly as Steve carefully turned him so he was facing away. It took him a moment to remember to let his knees relax and bend with the motion, allow himself to be eased down instead of just falling and hoping he landed properly. He couldn’t help but marvel at Steve’s casual use of his strength as he felt the head of his cock against his hole—his arms weren’t shaking even a little, even as Steve teased his wet, open hole by lowering him just enough to feel the pressure of his cock and then lifting him off again. If Tony didn’t know that he was doing it to distract him from Bucky trying to get the pillows just right, he would have screamed.

“Okay, I think that’s good,” Bucky finally said, rocking back on his heels. “Stop teasing him, Stevie, or I’m gonna let him stab you.”

“I wouldn’t be injured for long,” Steve grumbled, but when Tony dropped his hands to wrap around Steve’s wrists, he could feel fine tremors of desire running through his arms.

Tony whimpered as Steve finally lowered him further, pressing in, his own knees jerking in to smack against the leather of the saddle as his body opened up around his cock. The plug had kept him open as Bucky had prepared the room for them, and he’d been well-lubed when it had been inserted, but Steve was always a special sort of ache—longer than any of the toys he chose to use these days, and thick enough that Tony always found himself biting into his bottom lip as his body opened up around it, until he felt he was wholly shaped for Steve’s cock.

“There you go, sweet thing,” Bucky purred, and Tony peeled his eyes open. He hadn’t even realized he’d closed them. He was smiling down at him, pleased, just edging on smug, and it made his toes curl with pleasure. He liked when he pleased Bucky. “You ready for me to turn the saddle on?”

Tony squirmed as Steve’s arms slid around his waist and pulled his back flush with his chest, testing. Steve was a heavy weight inside him, and as he experimentally rocked his hips, he couldn’t help another whimper escaping his lips as Steve jerked his own forward in response, sending a zing of pleasure up his spine. Steve was one long line of heat down his back, around his waist, and Tony found himself sinking back against him with a sigh.

“You are,” Bucky murmured, flesh hand coming up to cup Tony’s cheek, thumb stroking back and forth tenderly. “You and Steve are so good for me, so sweet. Brace yourself, sweetheart.”

Tony barely had time to think ‘for what’ before he was suddenly reminded that he wasn’t just sat on Steve’s cock—he and Steve were also resting their weight on the saddle. Bucky started it at a minor thrum, and the vibrations shook through his thighs, against his balls. Steve’s hips jerked up as the vibrations went through him as well, and Tony howled as his cock rammed deeper inside him. His hands flew up to grab Steve’s arms around his waist, but all he could really do was hold on as Steve’s grip tightened around him, ride each of his stuttered thrusts as Bucky slowly cranked up the vibration speed.

It was hard to tell where the saddle ended and Steve began as the vibrations dialed up, pleasure fuzzing his awareness around the edges. Steve was buried inside him, each desperate hunch of hips driving his cock right over Tony’s prostate. But that almost seemed secondary to the saddle vibrating along Tony’s taint until they seemed to center directly in his balls where they were resting nearly at the edge of the vibrating plate. He was suddenly relieved that it was Steve sitting on the dildo and not him—he probably would have fallen apart as soon as Bucky turned it on and started thrusting, never mind slowly cranking up the vibrations. Having Steve panting in his ear though, that was nice, feeling held and surrounded and safe, as if Steve was the one holding him together. Bucky was right. It was exactly what he needed. He always knew exactly what he’d needed.

“Can I come,” Steve moaned into Tony’s shoulder, and he shivered, mouth dropping open to moan as Steve’s dick rocked back and forth with sharp, minute force. “Buck, can I come, please, he’s so hot inside, please, can I please, can I come—”

“Can Steve come in you, baby?” Bucky drawled, grabbing Tony’s chin to tip his head forward to make eye contact with him.

Tony blinked tears from his eyes, breath shuddering in his chest as Bucky turned the dial one more click. He felt as if the vibrations from the saddle were shaking him apart. It was so good it almost hurt, and it finally made him aware of his own hard cock, curved up against his stomach. He didn’t care if he came, he realized, head tipping back further, over Steve’s shoulder. He just needed to sit here, held, filled, watched, wanted. They could do whatever they wanted to him, as long as he felt like they were taking care of him while they were doing it.

“Tony,” Bucky said, voice just edging on sharp. Warning. He used the grip on his chin to jerk his head forward again, not as gently as the first time. “Focus.”

“I am,” Tony lied, blinking again. He worked his jaw, wondering what the right answer was. He feared ‘you can do whatever you want to me’ might make them stop, but he also wondered if he’d just accept a simple ‘yes,’ worrying that he was slipping under too far. He swallowed back a wounded noise as Steve used the arms around his waist to force his body down harder, cock driving deeper inside him as his balls were pressed harder into the vibrating saddle. “Mmh!”

Steve tipped his head to drag his lips from Tony’s shoulder to his neck, pressing them to his fluttering pulse as he murmured a desperate, “Please let me come in you, Tony.”

“I,” Tony started, more gasp than word. He gulped in air as Steve’s teeth bit into his skin, and the only reason he didn’t tip his head back again was because Bucky’s fingers were still wrapped around his chin. “I want… yes,” he finally managed, hoping it wasn’t too much or too little. Just enough. Just what he needed. “Yes, please.”

“Did you hear that, Stevie?” Bucky crooned, and Steve whimpered into Tony’s throat. “Tony says you can come in him.”

“Can I,” Steve panted into Tony’s skin. “Please, Buck, can I?”

Bucky tipped Tony’s head back a little, and Tony whimpered as he stared back at him through wet lashes. “Look at my boys,” he said, and his lips curved into a sly smile. “You’re both so good for me, both know exactly who’s in charge.”

“Please let him come in me, Bucky,” Tony mewled, more plaintively than he would have liked. His hands shook where they were wrapped around Steve’s arms. “Please. Please.”

Bucky’s grip on his chin tightened for a moment, then loosened, fingers trailing along his jaw. “Well,” he mused, fingertips drawing down his neck until he was pressing his fingers to Steve’s trembling lips on his throat. He waited for Steve’s mouth to still before he added, “Since you both asked so nicely, it would be cruel of me to say no.” He finally slid his piercing gaze to Steve, and Tony shuddered as if the threads holding him up had been suddenly cut. “You heard what Tony said, sweet thing. He wants you to come in him. Who am I to say otherwise.”

“I can come?” Steve asked, as if he didn’t quite believe it, but whatever he saw in Bucky’s face had him clenching his arms tighter around Tony’s waist. Then he moaned, pressing his face back into Tony’s throat. “Fuck, yes. Feel so nice on my cock, Tony—”

Tony’s mouth opened, perhaps to scream, but all that came out was a short, airy sort of sound as Steve’s arms clenched him tight enough to bruise. Tony finally managed a shocked little yelp as he was bounced on Steve’s cock, hard, ass meeting Steve’s thighs with a clap. He couldn’t tell what was better—Steve fucking him so deep that he could have sworn he felt him in his throat, or the vibrations of the saddle still reverberating through his thighs and balls.

Then Bucky’s flesh hand was wrapping around his cock, and the noise Tony let out was pathetic even to his own ears. “Buck,” he gasped, finally uncurling one hand to instead dig his nails into Bucky’s.

“You get t’ come too, sugar,” Bucky drawled, just the right edge of Brooklyn to it. “Because ya trust me t’ take care o’ you, don’tcha?”

“Bucky,” Tony tried again, unsure which way to rock—forward into Bucky’s hand, backward into Steve’s thrusts, or down onto the vibrating saddle. “Bucky-!”

“C’mon, sweet thing,” Bucky urged, grip tightening at the same time Steve bit down on his shoulder to try and muffle a whimper.

Tony choked on a sharp intake of air, too stunned to make more noise than that as Steve grunted and groaned into his skin, as if he’d been waiting years to be able to come instead of just a few minutes. Steve’s hips stuttered up against him as he tried to milk his orgasm as long as possible, trying to extend his pleasure. His arms were a solid weight around him, like hot steel bars, and Tony couldn’t help but finally whimper again. He was held. He was safe. He was exactly where he needed to be, protected between both super soldiers.

Tony’s body trembled in Steve’s grip as he came, hips rutting forward into the friction of Bucky’s hand of their own accord. His hand was warm. Not too tight. Over the pounding of his heart in his ears, he could hear Bucky murmuring something, but for the life of him, he couldn’t make himself focus to hear what it was.

Steve’s arms loosened around him, and he found himself tipping forward, into Bucky. His breath hitched in his chest as Bucky carefully wrapped his free arm around his shoulders, the coolness of the metal a shock against the warmth that Steve’s back had been. He heard a soft, mournful little noise, and it took him a moment to realize it was coming from him, an overwhelmed keen coming from deep in his chest. Too much. It was all too much.

“Look at you,” Bucky cooed into his ear, and Tony shivered, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “You took Steve so well, sweetheart, were so good for me. Do you need off the saddle?”

Tony’s hands gripped Steve’s arms tighter. “No,” he said, desperation clear in his voice, even as he wondered if he really did need off. ‘Too much’ could swiftly tip over to ‘over his head.’ He didn’t want to ruin this for either of them. But he still didn’t know what he needed beyond their arms around him. He felt Bucky’s arm moving behind his back and whimpered when he felt a hand threading through his hair, gripping just tight enough that it sent a thrum of heat through him, even as he whimpered at his head being tugged back.

Bucky tightened his grip until he met his eyes again as Tony ground his teeth nervously. “…Steve is staying on the saddle,” he decided, voice slow and thoughtful. “But you’re done. The vibrations are gonna be too much for you.”

Relief and despair immediately warred through him, and Tony couldn’t quite swallow back a whimper of shame. “I can be good.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t good,” Bucky answered, his eyebrows momentarily twitching down before he forcibly relaxed again. “You were very good, sweet thing,” he tried again, syrupy sweet, and Tony found his anxiety easing. “Just because you’re comin’ off the saddle doesn’t mean that you’re not warmin’ cock. You want it in your mouth, babydoll? Or your ass?”

Tony whimpered again, but as he lifted his head to meet Bucky’s eyes again, he found the shame had quelled. “Yes,” he answered helplessly, because both options sounded very good. “Please.”

Bucky let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “You do know how to please, doncha? C’mere.”

Steve whined loudly as Bucky hooked his hands under Tony’s arms in an attempt to lift him. He tightened his own grip around Tony’s waist in response, keeping Tony right where he was, speared on his cock. “No, you said—”

“I know what I said,” Bucky began, slanting him a sharp look.

“I wanna come in him again,” Steve cut in plaintively. “He feels so nice on my cock, Bucky, please, I can keep holding ‘im, won’t even let ‘im touch the saddle, lemme just—One more time, please—”

Bucky sighed, rolling his eyes, but he eased Tony’s weight back onto the pillows. He lifted his flesh hand to Tony’s face, thumb running under his eye carefully. “Do you think you can take another orgasm on the saddle if Steve holds you up, doll?”

“Yes,” Tony agreed readily. Whatever they needed. Steve could hold him up for hours. He’d done it before.

“Such an accommodating little thing,” Bucky sighed, voice teasing. “You’d say yes to anything, wouldn’t you?”

“‘m not little,” Tony huffed, but he couldn’t tell if he was just saying it to be contrary or not. He knew he wasn’t nearly as broad or as tall as either of them, and it was especially clear there, pressed close between their bodies. But they were the outliers here, not him.

Before he could tell them so, though, Steve finally unclamped his arms from around his waist to instead scoop under his thighs. Tony yelped as Steve hugged him to his chest again, legs kicking out uselessly as he was folded in half against him.

Bucky caught his ankles so he didn’t accidentally hurt himself, waiting until he stilled to release them. He shook his head at Steve with another sigh. “You’re such a brat.”

“He’s not touching the saddle,” Steve huffed, but he didn’t lift his head to meet Bucky’s eyes, either.

Bucky stared at him a little longer, just for good measure. Once he was sure that Steve was properly cowed, he lifted his hand to Tony’s face again, gently cupping his chin. “This comfortable for you, sweetheart?”

Tony nodded, but Bucky just raised an eyebrow at him. He squirmed, biting his bottom lip under Bucky’s stare, before he finally murmured, “Maybe just long enough for one more.”

“That’s what I thought.” Bucky slid his gaze to Steve. “You get to come one more time, then he’s off the saddle for the night.”

“Okay,” Steve mumbled into Tony’s skin, and he couldn’t help but whimper and tip his head to give Steve more room for his mouth.

“Such a good boy,” Bucky said, voice full of warmth, and his thumb pressed to Tony’s bottom lip. “For Stevie and for me.”

“Yes,” Tony agreed again, then mewled, pleased, as Bucky pressed his thumb into his mouth to suck on.

[dropofdrool]

Sweet Dreams, TN - Alex Turner x Reader

Summary: during a troubled night, our girl finds comfort in Alex having a wet dream.

Warnings: mature content (read responsibly), fem!reader, masturbation - m receiving, Alex is asleep

Word count: 3.1 k

!! I really want to thank @rentskenobi for the amazing and accurate work of review she's done over this fic, girl I wouldn't have made it without you<3

~☀︎︎~

Two hours passed since her eyes had suddenly opened in the middle of the night. After that, she hadn't been able to fall asleep again. Unfortunately, she didn’t remember having had any dream. Oh, she did wish a nightmare had woken her up! All she wanted to do was cry, shake off that numbness that anchored her to the bed. 

It was impossible for her to close her eyes, so she got used to the dim lighting around her. Even though the room was plunged in the night, it now appeared her no longer hidden by the dear nebulous darkness that confuses the mind and numbs the senses, but quivering, waiting to awaken. 

Her ears were ringing, oversensitive because of the silence: even the slightest noise seemed to her like a roar that rumbled in her mind. She just wanted to shelter under the covers, shield herself from that hostile environment and hide next to her little Alex, peacefully asleep by her side. 

It was unusual that she managed to see him asleep, since he often slipped into bed much later than her. If she wasn’t already in the land of dreams, she’d wait for him, to make love or cuddle until they fell asleep. Besides, he rarely woke her up during the night, as they both enjoyed a deep sleep. They were perfectly capable of going to bed at any time, but once asleep, it was really difficult to get them up. They had spent countless mornings in each other's arms, since neither had managed to drag the other out of bed.

Though she loved having his full attention in bed, she had always been tickled by the fantasy of seeing him fully asleep by her side. The fleeting moments when she caught him taking a nap on the sofa, surrounded by sheets with sketched lyrics or work-in-progress tracks weren't enough. She wanted to admire him properly as he lay on their bed, with his face pressed into the pillow and his body immersed in the sinuous folds of the duvet.

Just how he looked at the moment: Alex lay next to her like a kitten. His usually sharp face was now softened by the sleep, and a light snoring came from his half-closed mouth. She wished she could just bask in the sight of him, but she was feeling too bad. Since she’d fallen asleep above the covers, she didn't have the courage to slip under them and risk waking Alex up.

She put her whole self in trying to cry, longing for that sweet release. However, the tears were feeling too precious to come out and they left her only with a heaviness in her heart that she'd never felt before.

She tried to calm her breathing, and got the idea of synchronising it with Alex's deep and regular one. 

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

Luckily, he’d fallen asleep facing her. She turned to look at him, searching for comfort in his blissful features. She longed to get closer to him, to lose herself between his warm chest and strong arms, always ready to reassure her when a nightmare of hers would wake both of them up.

Since she couldn’t touch him, she tried to better receive all the other signals his body gave her. The warmth it radiated even from a distance, his small noises and trademark smell.

Now she’d been breathing deeply, her nostrils were filled with his unique fragrance: during the night, his usual aroma of cigarettes and cologne partially vanished, leaving place to the hot scent of pure male skin, barely sweetened by the body wash from the shower he’d had before bed. The scent of him, that had her head spinning when, during sex, she’d bury her face in his shoulder and there was only him, filling all her senses.

She slowly started to calm down. Her breathing took on a new rhythm of its own, and the screeching that had been harassing her mind died away. 

As if he'd realised his comfort was no longer needed, Alex rolled onto his back, facing the ceiling. 

The glimmer of moonlight slipping out from the curtains kissed his profile, highlighting his sharp nose delightfully. The impulse of kissing it grew stronger, but she tamed it.

That new position exposed his body in a whole different way. Now, she was able to see how his movement had undone some buttons on the thin, soft shirt he was wearing, letting a nipple slip out. That was a very sensitive part of Alex's body she never missed to stimulate as they had sex, teasing it with her palms or squeezing it between her fingers, as he used to do with hers. 

Alex moved again. His right hand, which had been resting on his stomach, ended up between his legs, over his cock. She raised her eyebrows. 

She knew very well that was a common action for both men and women, meant not so much for pleasure as for the comfort that protecting that sensitive area gave. However, she’d rarely seen Alex doing such a spontaneous gesture.

At first still, the hand on his crotch slowly began to move. A gentle massage, continuous and slow-paced. 

Her mind, now appeased but still cold from the just ended bad experience, didn't relate those movements to anything sexual yet. They were just basic, primitive masculine reflexes.

She thought that maybe, it was time to try and sleep. She turned her back to Alex and closed her eyes, but just as the sweet embrace of half-sleep began to envelop her, she felt the motion beside her increase, as if Alex were squirming. 

She didn’t pay attention to it at first, but after a while a not so weak mumble joined his wriggling. 

Her heart stopped in her throat.

Let’s calm down. It’s normal to make some noise in your sleep. Maybe he’s dreaming of talking to someone.

Oh, she did want to believe it. However, after a while it was clear he wasn’t just gasping in his sleep. 

She finally decided to turn around. In front of her, she found a very different-looking Alex than how she’d left him. He still had his eyes closed and his hand on his cock, but it was clear that something was getting him so heated. 

Alex swayed like the calm morning sea, arching his back slightly along with his neck, which he tilted back exposing his prominent Adam's apple. 

She sat up and ran her eyes over his whole body, marvelling at how his subconscious could elicit such delicious reactions. 

His movements, though they'd managed to get her attention, were still relatively small. 

Toes curling into the sheets, hips swaying just like they did as he played guitar on stage. 

He’d told her it was something he couldn’t control, that made him lose himself in the music and had him able to feel it within himself, so as to reproduce it better with the instrument.

Curious how his body reacts the same way to music and sexual frustration.

But if those hips movements on stage were the cause of so much screaming and clamour amongst the audience, his now intimate wriggling was a gift only to her, and the night that hid them.

Nonetheless, even then Alex sang. His whines and now proper moans were like music to her ears, careful to catch even the slightest sigh that left his luscious mouth. 

It was obvious: Alex was having a wet dream. 

Though this exited her, it made her a little unsure. She knew very well how much Alex loved her and she’d never had any reason to question that. However, even as his girlfriend, she still couldn’t believe that it was her who aroused him like that even in his subconscious.

Come on, Alex is almost always in my wet dreams, he is my boyfriend after all. Why shouldn't he be dreaming of me too?

However, besides her dreams about Alex, she’d have others sometimes where her fantasies came to life thanks to faceless men or women, when her own pleasure was the absolute focus. 

Maybe it was the same way for him. Unfortunately, they had discussed the topic focusing much more on her than on him, since several times Alex had happened to catch her right in the middle of wet dreams. 

In those cases, he had tried out a little game that turned out to be extremely exciting for both.  

Gently, he liked to guide her through her dream, trying not to wake her up thanks to little, special touches. 

She perceived it as a proof of his absolute dedication to her sole pleasure, since he had to tame all the desire for more he drew from touching her, so as not to wake her up. 

He had turned out to be very good at this. Most of the time, she’d wake up by herself some time later, wet between her legs and pleasantly satisfied. 

Sometimes, however, the intensity of the dream was too much and she’d wake up directly under Alex’s eyes, intent on touching her. Then, he’d waste no time and go down on her to finish the job, careful not to overstimulate her. 

How nice it would be if, this time, it was me who gave him that little treat.

As if he’d read her thoughts, Alex let out a low moan. She nearly echoed him, covering her mouth in time as she squeezed her thighs, already pooling with moisture.

The hand that had been previously stroking his cock from over his boxers slipped inside them.

His lips parted in a small, sincere smile. 

A sweet curve of his mouth, caused by the sheer pleasure he was feeling, along with the furrow of his brow and the arching of his body. 

Tears of excitement filled her eyes, and she sank her face into the pillow in order to calm down. This man is just too much. When she recovered, she finally decided to touch him.

She started with light, experimental touches on the back of his neck. She scratched it with the very tips of her fingernails, and he mumbled as goosebumps covered his body. 

His other nipple showed up from under his shirt. By now, all the ridiculous buttons that closed his neckline had popped open, revealing his heaving chest.

Such a tempting sight, he might deserve a little love there too. She licked her fingers and began rubbing his nipple with small, circular movements.

She feared she’d already woken him up and he wanted to shoo her hand away, as he raised his hand towards hers. Luckily, it just ended up clutching the pillow. They sighed together, one with pleasure and the other with relief.

She went on with that caress for a while: the work he was doing on his own already seemed good to her, his hips moving against his hand faster and faster.

Maybe it's time to join him inside his underwear. She traced a line down his soft body with her fingers, barely pressing on the firmest spots like his abs, until she reached down between his legs. How to help him there too? His hand wasn’t actually pumping his cock, it was more of a massage. She placed her hand over his, careful not to apply too much pressure, and began to guide his movements. Luckily, she didn't need to press: Alex's subconscious let her take the lead.

Look at him, melting just like butter. He quickly wet her hand as she palmed him and, looking at his face, she noticed a small tear of pleasure sliding down his cheek. She wanted to kiss it away, but she just wiped it away with a caress. Then, he wrinkled his nose: a strand of rebellious hair had fallen over his face, tickling him. She tucked it away before he could sneeze. 

She couldn’t help but get lost in his perfect, relaxed features as she looked at him.

Alex moaned loudly as she stroked his jawline and plump, velvety lips. She cried along with him, knowing how sensitive his mouth was. As that noise escaped his lips, he titled his chin back. She took it between her thumb and index finger and nudged it back gently, to display his fair and tempting neck. As she touched him there, she felt his pulse increase with his approaching orgasm.

His moans got even more desperate, it was clear he needed to come. 

She needed him to come too, as if her own relief depended on his orgasm, since she was sweating and moaning and squeezing her thighs just like him.

Now more than ever she wanted to touch all of him, squeeze that smooth flesh, so soft yet firm, cover him with her body as he came and lick off the sweat that beaded him.

He is so wet, I wonder if I could… 

She reached out her middle finger just enough to tease his butthole, managing to slip there easily thanks to the moisture that had dripped down his perineum. 

His entire face scrunched in pleasure, but no sound came out of his agape mouth except for a ragged breath. He exploded on their hand in a few big spurts. 

As he came, a few moans escaped his lips again. Amongst them, she thought she heard something similar to a word, which gradually became clearer.

She properly moaned as she realised it was her name.

From the way his body tensed and then relaxed, she almost feared he would wake up. Now that he was very sensitive, she tried to guide him through his post-orgasm with delicacy. She listened to his breathing slow down again, thanking the heavens he had been able to enjoy that experience while still being in the land of dreams, with only a little helper from Earth.

She took her hand out of his boxers, licking it clean. Now completely relaxed and even a bit tired, she lay back, just waiting for him to wake up and see the evidence of that night.

~☀︎︎~

As soon as he woke up, Alex immediately felt in his underwear what happened.

The memory of his dream was still fresh in his mind and, although the details began to fade rapidly, what didn't go away were the sensations, the pleasure he remembered having felt. The desire to go back into that dream was almost childish, since he had his beautiful girlfriend right there beside him, ready to do even better for him.

He felt a little ashamed for wetting his underpants just like a little boy.

It wasn’t unusual for him to have wet dreams, but rarely, except for when he was younger, had he ever managed to come during one of them.

Alex really wanted to wait for his love to wake up, but he also needed to get that sticky feeling off himself. 

He got out of bed and slipped into the bathroom. In the warm steam of the shower, he thought back to his dream. The face of the woman who’d given him so much pleasure wasn't clear in his mind, but he was sure she was his darling. The way she moved, knew his body by heart and her voice, that guided him through it all, were unmistakable.

As he watched the water drag the sperm away from his body, he almost thought of touching himself in the intimacy of the shower, being conscious this time. It was something that still comforted him, the familiar rhythm of his own hand guided only by his fantasies. However, he gave up. She was right in the next room and would wake up soon, he wanted to be ready for her in case she was taken by a morning desire.

That turned out to be right the case, since as he left the bathroom, covered only by a towel around his waist, he found her waiting for him, fully awake and propped up on her elbows.

"Good morning, love!" she uttered brightly. Alex dropped the towel and crawled back to her on their bed. She scratched him behind the ear, just as you would with a kitten, and he purred in the most delicious way.

"’Morning to yeh too, babeh..."

She opened her arms, inviting him, and he hurried to snuggle against her chest, enjoying the feel of his bare skin against her soft shirt.

“Tell me Alex, why would you need a shower this early in the morning?”

Alex looked at her with his big, brown eyes. He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to tell her the truth. However, her calm, reassuring gaze convinced him.

“I ‘ad a dream. A wet dream.”

She smiled, with a mischievous gleam in her eye that got Alex curious. Did she hear me by any chance? 

“Lovely. Was it good?”

“Oh yesss.” he hissed, dragging out the word. He closed his eyes, calling to mind the last few scraps of the dream he hadn’t forgotten yet.

She lulled him, pleased with his sleepiness.

"Did you come?" she asked. He looked at her again and smirked, asserting his response. She giggled.

"I can imagine. You were squirming so much…”

Alex leapt up quickly, facing her.

"Did I wake yeh up?!"

“Not at all, darling. Actually, I was having a terrible night. I’d woken up all of sudden a couple of hours earlier and just couldn't get back to sleep. Everything felt like it were pulsing and every noise just seemed soo loud, I just wanted to cry but not even the tears wanted to help me. It was awful… good thing you were there. You, who managed to calm me down only with your breathing. Just when I was about to go back to sleep, I heard you make some noises. Such sweet noises… I couldn't believe it. For a while I hadn’t been able to do anything but look at you, you were so beautiful. Then, I remembered how many times you’ve blessed my wet dreams, so I thought I could return the favour.”

He groaned.

“Honey, I can't say I remember well what ‘appened, but from tha' little I do… it were so good. Thank yeh so much."

“I thank you, Alex! You were so hot I was about to cry… please tell me if I catch you having a wet dream one more time, I can help you again.”

In response, Alex kissed her hard. 

“Love, yeh can do everyfing yeh want to me. I'm all yehrs." 

He flipped their position, so that she was on top of him. 

“But now, let's make those sweet dreams come true, shall weh?”

~☀︎︎~

[cyren-myadd]

And if it's possible for you, could you make a story of Avatar 2 by Neytiri and Spider Socorro together mother and son, please?

When I first saw the prompt, I was shocked, because I'd never thought of writing something like that before and it felt out of my comfort zone as I haven't written Neytiri much. I almost deleted it. But for some reason, it kept sitting in the back of my head and I finally decided just to give it a chance and write a little one shot. And that one shot turned into a two shot. Which turned into a three shot. So by the time I realized I had enough for three separate chapters I figured I might as well commit to making this a proper fic.

This was seriously the hardest thing I’ve ever written. When I first decided to attempt the prompt, my first thought was an AU where they adopt Spider right from the beginning, but then I thought it would be more interesting if I tried to keep things canonical but diverge from the main storyline instead. I tried so hard to write both Spider and Neytiri true to how they behave in canon while also trying to create a scenario where they would realistically bond like a mother and son. It’s really difficult since they have such a rocky relationship, I deadass think it would’ve been easier to write a Quaritch X Jake romance that sticks close to canon lmao. I'm not sure if the end result is exactly what anon had in mind, but this is what came of it, so I hope y'all enjoy!

and yes, I know I also said I would continue Special Treatment and Lucky Number Five. I am planning to continue them, my life's just gotten a lot busier, so I can't make any promises about updates unfortunately.

And as for Common Enemy... 😭😭😭 I think I intimidated myself out of finishing it, I might just go back and clean up the sketches and then post the comic as it is right now, you guys will still be able to enjoy the story, it'll just have sketchy art instead of the usual finished product, cause I bit off way more than I could chew with 15 pages.

[mingsoooo]

Little Highschool Crush

pairing: Shen Quanrui (Ricky) & Reader featuring Matthew

Genre: High school crush, subtle blush.

Word count: 1.4k+

Author's note: I loveeeeeee ricky! Hehe, Matthew and Ricky are my bias tbh and yes. A fic about them. It's the SFW version and I love how cute they are!!!! Like I can just tell, Ricky would try to act soooo calm but he can't! And yes, enjoy~

Life at the high school was far from what it was shown in the movies or dramas; it was what you thought, but the last year was like a turning point gift from God. Nine handsome men had enrolled, and amongst them, two of them were in your section. Matthew and Shen Quanrui, or more popularly known as Ricky. 

Matthew had a punk look. His hair often styled with partition bangs and ears pierced. Similarly, Ricky had a mullet, dyed brown, and his ears pierced. They had the look of the ultimate bad boys or even fuck boys. 

They were the popular boys who were far out of your reach; after all, you were just mediocre, trying to stay on top of things. Quanrui sat a few seats behind you, and Matthew was your desk mate. Benefits? You were surrounded by the handsome boys; after all, Quanrui often came to your table and was even friends with you. 

At first you were cautious; after all, female rage was scary, but soon, due to Matthew's shining personality, they didn't care much about you. 

But every now and then, in the manga club you'd hear about the rumors surrounding Shen Quanrui. The people he rejected, the amount of girls and guys who had a crush on him and the ex's he had. It was fun to know, but without realizing you too had fallen for him all the while, not even knowing about your feelings. 

Thus, you had drawn plenty of sketches of Ricky. Some as the protagonist for a few one shots, and some for personal collection. ~ "Y/n, aren't you going to go to the PE class?" Matthew exited his seat and placed his school coat on the chair. With the approaching winter and the rotten heater, you could feel your hands freeze up.

He ruffled his hair slightly while Quanrui too walked up to your table as well.

"Uh, why don't you go ahead? I'll join in a while." You replied in an awkward manner. Lips held tightly since, it seems that you got your period. The worse thing was it seems to have stained your skirt.

"Well, sure, I guess? Ricky, let's go." Matthew didn't pry in, but Ricky did. He took a glance towards before taking a seat at the chair before you. 

"I do not know why you seem to feel under the weather, but if it's due to, uh… female things, Then, I guess, uh, you can use my coat. I have a sister too so…." His words were left hanging, and he took off his coat instead of speaking any further. 

'What did I do to deserve it?' you smiled while wearing the warm coat, which was much larger for you. It covered your butt, preventing the bloodstain from being seen. 

The students had left. Even Matthew was at the door. Leaving his coat to you, Quanrui left the classroom, and it was now only you and the overpowering feelings. You couldn't be happier, the way his fragrance engulfed you and how he seemed sooooo much closer. 

That whole day, you wore it. It was warm, and although many taunting eyes glared daggers at you, you were lost in your own little bubble of happiness to notice.  ~ [Ring] The last bell for the day rang, and the school day had ended. Everyone started to pack their bags, and as you packed your bags, Ricky walked past with the huge crowd of students. 

With Matthew, you walked out, and at the door, Shen Quanrui waited for both of you. 

"Let's go," he said while earning a decent look from Matthew. After all, why was Quanrui wearing only a shirt while you were wearing a men's coat? 

While walking downstairs, Matthew met a few of his friends from the club, so both of you left him and continued to walk out of the school grounds. Plenty of hawk eyes took a look at Quanrui; after all, he was so handsome. 

But your hands were fiddling. Even at such cold temperatures, the sides of your temple were sweating. Nervous. Extremely nervous. 

"Uh… Quanrui… thank you for the coat." You struggled to put the sentence together. Eyes cast at the black-pitched road. 

"Eh…yeah…You're welcome," he replied in a similar manner. Gone was the facade of the nonchalant kid; right now he was in the presence of the girl whom he liked. To him, his eyes could always distinguish in a crowd to whom his thoughts were directed. 

"I will return it to you after washing," you continued. 

"No… no need," Quanrui replied. Hating how nervous he was. 

"Not at all! Also, thank you earlier. To be honest, I…uh…had a stain I want to cover."

"Ya y/n-ah, Did you see the latest chapter?!" Matthew pressed his hand on your back. His voice embraced radiance, and while the school bag hung on his other hand, Matthew almost headbutted you due to excitement. 

His breath slightly panted. Even so, he continued to match your pace. 

"Eh?" Startled, you slightly took a step back but soon controlled your balance upon realizing that it was your friend Matthew. 

"Well, yeah. I was so sad that although he was a fortune teller, he died knowing that his death had arrived. Also the fact that his only possession, the tarot, was no longer usable, "You answered while walking in the middle of two boys. Shen Quanrui at your left and Matthew at your right. 

"Oh yeah, also remember how his lover didn't know he was stabbed!" Matthew jumped in. His eyes widened with excitement. Earning a look from Quanrui.

"I was almost at the verge of tears in that scene. Though I loved how they portrayed each character through the tarot cards, and even the flowers at the scene gave hints," you concluded.

It was an impactful scene, and you wished for them to live, but death and grievances could never be stopped. Like a waterwheel, they continued to go round and round. 

Quanrui took a peek at your expressions, the way your eyelashes slightly flutter when you look forward and the way you slightly bit the lower lip, hating how quickly you get overwhelmed by the scenes that were fictional. 

Quanrui gently brushed his fingertips against yours. Almost wanting to hold them or say something to cheer you up, but…

"Indeed. Wasn't the protagonist called the Judgement? And I think the female lead was the fool, right? I wonder which card his lover represented." Matthew was quick to divert your attention.

"Well, I'm not sure, but the tarots are quite fascinating. Which card do you think you'd represent?" You question back while the edge of your ears is tingling with redness. 

"Me? I'm definitely the sun. Look how bright I shine!" Shamelessly he smiled, showing his bright teeth and bedazzling personality. As if the air of sadness had passed away, both you and Quanrui giggled. 

But amidst the laughter, Quanrui made sure to capture your smile in his eyes. It was sweet; the tiny lines on your smile lines were cute, and the way you threw your head back like a little child was endearing. 

"So true!" You remarked and cracked another smile while continuing, "And I think that Quanrui is the strength." Turning your head towards him, you showed a grin. Even Matthew took a glance at the shy goy beside you. 

Unlike the usual nonchalant demeanor, he was especially red at the apple of his cheeks. Flustered by your comment, blood rushed to the back of his nape and ears. 

"Why do you think so? uh, I mean I don't know about tarot, but…" He paused. Quanrui was a soft-spoken man, unlike his initial impression. A voice was as warm and sweet as honey. To avoid embarrassment, he even looked away, with his hands in his pockets. 

Matthew cackled at the sight. He couldn't believe how cute the lover boy was. Never had he ever thought that Ricky (Quanrui) would be so in love that he'd break the nonchalant look. You too joined Matthew but with a Cheshire cat grin. 

"Well, because you are very resilient and still so compassionate? Staying in a foreign country isn't easy, so you are the strength."

Your eyes turned to a crescent moon, and your lips curved upwards; meanwhile, Quanrui didn't even look your way. His cheeks were flaming hot and his ears redder than an apple. Countless butterflies swarmed his tummy.

Matthew was almost in tears because of how cute it was, the look of Ricky falling in love and thus, the three of you went home together.

[lifesizehysteria]

A Mother's Blessings | A Bridgerton Fic

Part 4: Gregory

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Characters: Violet Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton, Kate Bridgerton (mentioned only), Anthony Bridgerton (mentioned only) Summary: A collection of moments through Violet and Marcus’ courtship in which Violet seeks the blessings of her children. AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

With a letter to Francesca and Eloise in hand, Violet walked through the corridor from the drawing room. Due to the distance, she had only exchanged one letter with her daughters since their departure. Well, one letter with Francesca. Eloise had signed it, but it was obvious Francesca had responded on behalf of both of them, and Violet held a suspicion that responses from Eloise herself would be irregular at best. It was a thought that nauseated her a bit, having her daughter so far away and out of touch, but at least she had Francesca to keep her informed. That was a relief, at the very least. 

“Mrs. Wilson, will you please see that this letter goes out to Francesca and Eloise?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” she said, taking the letter from her, bowing her head. 

“Thank you,” Violet smiled, and turned to walk away, then turned back around, waving a hand in Mrs. Wilson’s direction. “Mrs. Wilson?”

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“Have you any idea where Benedict might be?”

“Last I saw him, he was headed toward his study after breakfast.”

Violet nodded, her hands coming to rest on her stomach. “I shall check there, then. If you see him, please tell him I am looking for him.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you,” she said once more before turning towards Benedict’s study. 

The door was open when she approached, so she knocked on the door jamb as she stepped into the room. 

“Mother!” he said in that familiar, jovial way he did when he was trying to cover being caught by surprise. She noted that he was trying to discreetly close a sketchbook on the table in front of him. 

“Are you drawing?” she asked, walking closer, trying to keep her voice casually curious.

He blew a dismissive breath out through his lips, scrunching his face. “Just some sketches, that’s all.”

“Mmm,” she said, nodding slightly, looking at him and seeing a bit of melancholy in his eyes, despite the laid back smile on his face and the way he lounged in his chair. It pained her to know that he was still pushing away his dreams, allowing his hurt over the circumstances of his acceptance into the Royal Academy to dictate his future, despite his very real talent. So, it was heartening to see him practicing any art at all, and she did not let him see the excitement she felt, afraid it would set him backwards in whatever progress he was making.  

She came to stand in front of him, her hands clasped at her waist.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit, Mother?” He had fully masked whatever had been slipping through just a moment before, looking up at her with his usual playfulness. 

She returned his smile, perching herself on the chair beside him, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

“I was wondering, has Gregory seemed… melancholy of late?”

A cheeky grin tilted his mouth to one side. “You mean when he is not bickering with Hyacinth?”

Violet let out a quiet laugh. “Yes, aside from that.”

Benedict nodded his head to one side. “I suppose he has been quieter than usual.”

“Mmm.” Violet pressed her lips together into a thin line. “Nothing else? He has not… spoken to you? Has not brought up any concerns?” she ventured, hoping to trigger some memory or spark an idea. 

Her son frowned, shaking his head. “Not that I recall. Why do you ask?”

She looked down at her hands in her lap while her fingers worried against each other. “It, uh, seems that his… imagination has run away with him a bit.”

“What do you mean?” Benedict regarded her from beneath furrowed brows.

Glancing back up at him, Violet let out a deep sigh, her shoulders falling forward just a bit. “He has some concerns about my–our–future with Lord Anderson.”

Benedict’s eyebrows rose, an attentiveness perking up his eyes. “Has he declared himself, then?”

“What?” Violet’s eyes widened, then blinked harshly. “No! Heavens, no, he– No. Nothing has changed with Lord Anderson.”

“I see.” He watched her fidget for a moment, a blush pinking her cheeks. “Then what is it, exactly, that makes you say Gregory has concerns?”

Violet cleared her throat. “The evening of Lord Anderson’s last visit–”

“The pall-mall game!”

“Yes, exactly,” Violet said. She went on to explain the talk she had had with Hyacinth two nights prior, and the concerns her youngest children seemed to have. 

“I am surprised to hear Hyacinth had any concerns whatsoever. She seems nearly as smitten with Lord Anderson as you,” Benedict teased, and Violet reached over to gently smack his knee, to which he practically giggled with glee. She pursed her lips at him to hide her amusement.

“Oh, I think she was taken by surprise more than anything. Perhaps caught up in her brother’s panic. She seems fine with the idea now. Gregory on the other hand…”

Benedict studied his mother’s face as she looked past him towards the window, creases forming between her brows.

“Would you like me to talk to him?” he asked. 

Violet blinked and looked at her son, pulled back from her thoughts and grateful for the kind offer. “No, I think it would be best if I talked to him. But I could use your help.” 

He offered her a crooked smile. “How may I be of service?”

“Well, I am afraid that if I try to sit him down to talk, he will clam up, and I will get nowhere. So, I thought, perhaps a family walk might be in order.”

Benedict thought about it for a second, then his face brightened with understanding. “So he will be trapped, and perhaps more likely to open up while he has something to do.”

“Precisely,” Violet said with a little laugh, nodding her head. 

“And how do I factor into this plan, exactly?”

“You can make sure that everyone else gives Gregory and I some privacy.”

“Why do you not just take him alone?”

“Tell me, dearest. How eager would you have been to promenade alone with me when you were fourteen?”

Acquiescing, Benedict shrugged and bowed his head. “Good point, Mother.”

“So, I thought, if we all go, not only can I use the opportunity to speak with Gregory and try to allay his fears, but we can have one more family outing before Kate and Anthony leave. However, I need someone to make sure Hyacinth stays out of it, and she is much more likely to stay with you than Anthony.” Not to mention, Violet was not particularly keen on explaining to Anthony why she needed to speak to Gregory alone. He was still actively avoiding Marcus as if the man had some sort of contagious disease, and seemed set on doing so until he left for India. 

“So, will you help me?”

He made a show of consideration, drumming his fingers against the top of the sketchbook, propping his chin in his hand as if contemplating a great mystery. Violet heaved an amused sigh and rolled her eyes. 

“I am nothing if not honored to assist in my dear mama’s pursuit of her… gentleman,” he said, oozing disingenuous gallantry as he leaned back in his chair. Just for good measure, he winked.

Violet’s mouth fell open, her eyes blinking and owlish. “I am not-! That is not-!” She tripped over her words, unable to complete a thought. She could not decide if she was more annoyed with his suggestion or the fact that she was annoyed at all, but as her spluttering stopped, her face a markedly dark shade of red, she glared at him before saying a rather curt, “Thank you.”

“It is my pleasure, Mother,” he said. The shameless grin on his face made her groan under her breath and stand, shaking her head.

“Three o’clock,” she said before walking from the room, leaving him laughing in his chair.

~

They were only minutes into their stroll, and Violet was already regretting her decision. Gregory and Hyacinth were squabbling like toddlers, Benedict was doing nothing to help separate them and was, in fact, egging them on. And Anthony and Kate were already falling behind despite poor Kate’s valiant effort to keep up.

When Hyacinth took her fifth dig at Gregory in as many minutes, Violet lost her fight to hold onto her patience. 

“Hyacinth!” she snapped, drawing not only her daughter’s attention, but that of several people walking nearby. Violet let out a simpering laugh, covering her outburst with a smile towards the passersby before turning her gaze on her daughter. “Perhaps you ought to go back and see how Kate is doing.” Her tone was sweet on the surface but underneath was the command of a mother who would take no argument. 

Hyacinth rolled her eyes, clasping her hands behind her back as she spun on her heel and went to join them. Violet then caught Benedict’s eye and jerked her head towards the group that was falling steadily more behind and mouthed, “Go.” When he hesitated, she pursed her lips so tightly they almost disappeared, her eyes growing dangerously wide. Benedict recognized that look and knew better than to push her, so he tipped his invisible hat at her and fell back in line with the others. Violet looked forward again, and after a few quiet moments, linked her arm through Gregory’s. 

He did not say anything, and since a way to broach the subject was eluding Violet, she let them continue on in silence, checking behind them occasionally to gauge their distance from the rest of the group. When too much time had passed and she could feel her son growing tense in their continued silence, she let out a soft chuckle to break it, then gave his arm a little squeeze. 

“It is a beautiful day, is it not?”

“Indeed, Mother.” Violet felt a pang in her heart. One word answers and the change to Mother from Mama. After only one year at Eton, her youngest son was quickly leaving boyhood behind, and even though she knew the loss of Mama would happen–as it had for all of her sons–she did not feel prepared for it. He was her last little boy, and part of her wished he could stay that way forever.

“Mmm.” She nodded, and looked down at him for a moment. How on earth was she going to get him to open up? “I was just thinking how quiet it will be around the house very soon. What, with Anthony and Kate leaving for India, and you returning to Eton shortly after.” “It is never quiet with Hyacinth at home,” he said, a small smile on his face.

Violet chuckled, not bothering to chastise him. After all, he had not said anything untrue. “That is true. But it is a bit quieter when you are not there for her to argue with.”

“Well, it should be a nice break, then,” he said. 

“I would take all the bickering and noise in the world if it meant getting to keep my little boy home with me,” she said honestly, feeling more emotional than she had expected to feel. She had already dealt with him leaving before, why was she suddenly feeling such deep attachment?

“I am not a little boy,” he insisted, unaware of how such a statement made him sound just like one. 

“Of course not, dearest,” she said, trying to keep the laughter from her voice. “How are you feeling about returning to school?”

“Fine,” Gregory shrugged. Violet resisted the urge to push for more, instead taking a moment to notice the warmth of the sun on her face and the sound of chatter floating by on the breeze.

“It will be nice to see my friends,” Gregory finally said.

“Of course,” she agreed, smiling at him. “It must be nice to be around your peers, away from the family chaos.” Violet was not unaware of the lack of confidence her youngest son felt among their large and boisterous brood. It had to be difficult to be so many years younger than his brothers. She saw his eagerness to find his place among the men in the family and wished for some way to ease his mind while still not feeling ready herself for him to grow up.

“I do not mind the chaos,” he said. “I have never known anything else.”

Violet chuckled and leaned into his arm. “I suppose that is true.”

“It might actually be nice to be around the noise of school. It has been rather quiet at home lately.”

“Indeed, it has.” Like a sixth sense that came from so many years of motherhood, Violet could sense they were on the precipice of a genuine conversation, and she felt an urgent need to tread as carefully as she could so as not to close whatever door was beginning to open. “It is strange to have so many of your brothers and sisters gone, is it not?”

Gregory nodded. “I suppose it is better that we get used to the quiet now, though.”

Violet’s eyebrows knit together as she looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, when we go to live with Lord Anderson, it will be rather quiet, will it not? It will be just the three of us and him.”

Violet blinked, taken aback at the way he had kicked his way through the door that she had been trying to very gently open. She cleared her throat, letting one hand come to press against her stomach. 

“Well- uh,” her gaze fell to the path beneath their feet, her cheeks suddenly warm. “I imagine it would be, yes, but–” Trying to collect her thoughts, she exhaled a sigh. It seemed everyone else was insisting on finishing a race for her that she was not even sure she was running. “Lord Anderson and I are not engaged.”

“But you will be,” he stated, as if it were already fact. 

Violet heaved another sigh, a tightness forming around her mouth. “My life would be much improved, I think, if I were as capable of predicting the future as all of you seem to be.” There was a bite of frustration coloring her words, and Gregory looked down, guilt on his face.

“I am sorry, Mama,” he said quietly, morphing back into her baby boy and instantly filling Violet with regret for saying something aloud that should have stayed a private thought.

“No, no, I am sorry. That was unfair.” She squeezed his arm in both of hers and blew an exhale out through her mouth. “I know you have concerns. I spoke to Hyacinth—”

“I know,” he said before she could finish. “She told me.”

“So, you know neither of you would have to change your names, then?”

“Yes.” 

“And that if you truly do not wish to live with Lord Anderson, we will speak to Anthony about you staying at Bridgerton House?”

“Yes,” he said again. 

“Good,” she nodded. 

Violet should have been feeling some relief that he already knew the very things she had wished to tell him. However, as they continued to stroll, she felt a distinct unrest coming from him, which left her feeling quite unsettled in the belly. After a few more quiet minutes, she realized she could not leave unsaid whatever it was he was ignoring and mustered up the will to pry a little more. 

“Were those all of your concerns?” she asked, tentative in tone. “Because it seems as if something is still bothering you.” She made sure not to look at him, chewing on the inside of her cheek to put her nervous energy somewhere.

Gregory continued to stare determinedly ahead, remaining silent.

“You know you can tell me anything,” she said, now with more conviction, “and I will do everything within my power to help.” When, again, he said nothing, Violet let herself glance at him. His lips were clamped shut between his teeth. She continued gently, “But I cannot solve a problem that I do not know exists.”

She watched as his eyes turned toward the ground, the effort to keep his face neutral obvious until, finally, his shoulders drooped forward.

“It feels as though everyone is leaving me behind,” he admitted quietly, “and when you marry Lord Anderson, you will, too.”

Surprise mingling with confusion played across Violet’s face. “You mean if you live with Anthony? Dearest, I thought that was what you wanted. Besides, you are spending most of your time at Eton now, away from all of us.”

Gregory shook his head, letting out the smallest groan of frustration. “No, I mean, whether I go with you or stay. I have seen what marriage does. You find someone else who means more to you than anyone else, and they are who you care about. Who you spend your time with. First Daphne, then Anthony, now Colin and Francesca. Everyone is leaving, and even when they are here, nothing is the same.”

Violet felt a tightness wrap around her heart until it ached in her chest. Of course her child who seemed to know himself the least would be so affected by everyone else beginning lives outside of their family.

“Oh, my dear boy.” Affection and sympathy inflected her tone. “I know it must be so hard to see your brothers and sisters flying away to start their lives. It certainly has been for me.”

“Really?” he asked, looking at her for the first time. “You have always seemed so excited for them to be married.”

“Well, yes, I am, because as their mother, I want them to grow and flourish, to find love and have families of their own. But just because I am happy for them does not mean I do not feel their loss.”

Gregory gave a small nod as if he understood, but his face remained puzzled, his eyes uncertain. 

“The difference, I suppose, is that as their mother, I have been preparing for the day they would leave—the day all of you would leave—since the day you were born. You, however, have never known life without them, and I imagine it must be a very difficult change, indeed.” She patted his chest and leaned into his shoulder, grateful when he made no effort to pull away. “The other difference, my sweet boy, is that I am your mother, and no one will ever be more important to me than you children. No matter what happens between Lord Anderson and myself, you and your brothers and sisters will always come first.” She turned to look at him again, smiling at the way his face had softened, hoping he believed her. “I most certainly will never leave you behind, I can promise you that. Quite the opposite, in fact. It is my fate to be left by each of you as you fly the nest, and I will be happy for it, because it means I have done my duty. It is simply my hope that you come back as often as possible to fill my house with all the noise and ruckus I have had the joy and frustration of hearing for so long.”

He laughed, his face bright with his usual sweetness. She returned his smile, laughing gently with him, her eyes shining and her heart light.

“I do like Lord Anderson,” he said. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes.”

“I am glad,” she said with utmost sincerity.

“He is quite funny. And Hyacinth is right about the way you smile when you are with him. Clearly, he makes you happy.”

Violet looked toward the ground, swallowing as she blinked away tears that threatened to well in her eyes. “He does,” she said softly, her voice tight in her throat.

They continued to walk in a comfortable silence until the sound of thundering footsteps came up behind them. Hyacinth barrelled into them in a rather unladylike manner as she said, quite loudly, “Gregory, why are you hogging Mama and keeping her all to yourself?”

The two of them stopped, Violet’s arm still hooked through her son’s as they stepped over to the grass and off the path.

“Hyacinth, manners!” Violet scolded, and Hyacinth sobered, clapping her hands behind her back as she came to stand on her mother’s other side. “Your brother is not keeping me to himself, he is simply making sure we have adequate time together before he leaves for school again.” 

Hyacinth opened her mouth but whether to speak or to argue they would not know because another set of footsteps had them all turning their heads, only to see Benedict jogging up to them, his flushed face twisted with frustration.

“I am sorry, Mother. I could not keep her away any longer.” He stopped next to them, bending so his hands were on his knees, head bowed as he wheezed. 

“Keep me away? What do you mean?” Hyacinth demanded, affronted. 

“Never you mind, dearest,” Violet said to her, taking hold of her daughter’s hand before looking at Benedict who was still breathing heavily but standing upright. “We are all settled. Perhaps we ought to gather Anthony and Kate and return home. It will be time for dinner by the time we arrive, and I should like to spend the evening as a family. What do you think, Gregory?”

“If you want,” he said, but the smile that bloomed on his face until he was all teeth and dimples and glittering eyes told Violet it was exactly what he wanted, and she couldn’t agree more. Their family dinners were getting smaller and smaller, and she did not want to miss a single one.

[solitude4chiron]

Besties, right?

Miles 1610 x Black!fem!Artist reader

A/n: I know I’m wild for promising y’all this fic and just now dropping it 🤦🏾‍♀️ I had some crazy writers block ngl but I’m back 🙏🏾 I’ll be debating if I want to do a pt.2 for this 🫣

🎧- Love Galore- SZA, Travis Scott

Sometimes you questioned you and Miles’s relationship. Not in a bad way though. He was the sweetest boy you knew, at times he was too sweet, but that was just how he showed he cared. You both had been friends since elementary. Yeah, maybe you shared a kiss under the slide, or used to crush on each other, but you both left that in the past. There was no feelings there anymore..Right?

Millimeters 🙄: “You eat today y/n”

“nah 🥲 I’m sketching rn I’ll eat later”

Millimeters 🙄: “whatchu want for dinner 🤦🏾‍♂️”

“nothing”

Millimeters 🙄: “ight gimme a minute”

He always did little stuff like that, but after he’d always clarify it was in a best friend way, just incase.

Before you could get back to drawing there was a knock at your window, and a boy with a bag of food in his hand.

“Miles I told you I wasn’t hungry.” You said with a bit of a frown on your face. You couldn’t help but feel guilty when people did stuff for you, even if they didn’t mind.

“You said you weren’t hungry but you be lying soo…” He came into your room and closed the window, placing the food on your desk and flopping back on your bed.

“So what’s been up witchu y/n? You still talking to that boy from art?”

“I was never talking to him, we literally just sit next to each other in class.” You shrugged turning your back to him at your desk. He came over your shoulder to look at your sketchbook.

“You know you can take breaks right? Arts supposed to be fun.”

“I know, I’m tryna get this scholarship.”

“You will. Just chill with me for now.” He responded, closing your sketch book and getting his food out of the bag.

You both started eating and talking together, completely ignoring the time. Miles was right though, art had been consuming you at this point. He just didn’t want you to lose the fun in being creative.

“Anyways, I got us some tickets to a concert, guess who?” He looked up at you with a faint smirk and a mouthful of food.

“Miles you didn’t have to.”

“But I did. Now guess.” He responded quickly.

“I dunno? You really didn’t have to though..”

“Oh well, guess you’ll see who when we go on Friday.” He shrugged and smiled. “Just know you’ll love it.”

For some reason the room had a bit of tension in it, you couldn’t put your finger on why, and you wondered if miles felt the same way.

“Who you lookin cute for?” He said quickly, still looking down at his plate.

“Whatchu mean I’m just wearin pajamas?”

“Oh. You just look really pretty.” He said looking up from his plate with a faint smile.

“Mhm, thank you miles.” You chuckled a little, playing with your food with your fork. “Why you really come over here?” You said, looking up from your plate this time.

“What I can’t see my bestie?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow.

“No like…nevermind.” You said shaking your head a bit.

“You said you was hungry so I brung you food.” He shrugged quickly.

You genuinely couldn’t tell if miles had feelings for you or not. Honestly he acted like this to everyone, not on this scale obviously but he was a sweet person. Your brain was scrambled at this point, anybody looking at you could tell you had something on your mind.

He reached for his phone and sighed, the time was 12pm and his mom wanted him to come home.

“I gotta go, it’s getting mad late.”

“I wanted to ask you..nevermind it’s nothing.” You quickly said, sighing a little.

He got up from your bed and leaned down to press a kiss on your cheek.

“Stop overthinking it y/n.” He said before climbing out of your window.

You sat on your desk chair frozen in place. What just happened? What did he mean by that? A heavy sigh left your lips as you fell back on your bed and clutched your pillow in your arms.

A text pinged through your phone before you fell asleep.

Millimeters 🙄: “Hope you enjoyed the food :)”

“Night miles ❤️”

[gorgonwrites]

bound to you (part 2)

diluc x fem!reader

wc: 2, 205

authors note: okay i know i said i like jumping into the thick of things but i am such a SLUT for characters slowly falling in love and the tension of dancing around one another before they get together UGH! here is a part 2 for my first fic. :) also! this is a side blog and i realized im not really able to interact much with other accounts here. i might eventually move things over to my main blog bc i dont do much over there anyways. dont be alarmed if "witchcraftandwhisky" replies or likes something lololol. thank you for the love <333

CW: 18+, fem! reader, reader is an artist! slight voyeurism, diluc accidentally catches reader masterbating, MDNI!!!, diluc AND reader are still dancing around each other rn ugh just fuck already damn

It’s been days since you briefly spoke with your husband, Diluc. He’s kept himself busy with the remainder of the harvest season, and you’ve felt uncharacteristically shy in his presence after his impromptu visit to your chambers. You have the perfect view of the vineyard from your window and you couldn’t help but greedily watch him, shirtless and hair tied up to stay off of his neck. He’s tanned quite a bit since he’s been home and you were pleasantly surprised to see the explosions of freckles that have erupted on his skin. Cute, you thought. There was some jealousy though, and you cursed the sun for being able to caress his skin so easily. You clapped your hands to either side of your face to rid yourself of the thought, and decided to be productive rather than wasting your afternoon in your window. 

Your eyes drifted to the corner of your room and after further inspection, you found your paints and canvases that had been long forgotten. I’ve hardly painted since I’ve been here… maybe some sketching will do my mind some good. You rummaged through the pile of art supplies to find an old sketchbook and some pencils and decided to find a shady tree outside. Adelinde greets you at the door of the manor, umbrella in hand to shield you from the hot summer sun. You both find a large tree with a lovely view of the vineyard and the manor, and you begin to sketch while chatting away with the head maid. 

After what felt like hours, a large shadow was cast over your sketch, and you were forced to look up and squint into the sun. Your husband loomed over you, glistening with sweat and looking curiously at your sketchbook. You quickly clutched it to your chest, startled by his sudden appearance. 

“Good afternoon, Master Diluc.” you couldn’t bring yourself to address him so casually yet, and his slight change in expression at your insisted formality was not lost on you. You began to fidget where you sat, and broke eye contact with Diluc to glance out at the vineyard where the rest of the men worked. 

“Oh, I think one of the boys needs me. Excuse me my Lady, Master Diluc.” Adelinde quickly said, winking at you before she gathered herself and quickly walked away. Up to no good. You tried to smile, but it came out looking like a grimace at your husband. 

“Y/n, good afternoon. I didn’t know you were an artist. May I see?” Diluc sounded as gentle as always, and you couldn’t help but hand your sketchbook over to him.

“I think saying I’m an artist is a stretch,” you sputtered, “it’s just something I do to pass the time. It calms my mind.” You didn’t know why him referring to you as an artist felt so embarrassing. You watched him closely while he flipped through the pages, noticing how his brows pinch together while he concentrates. He stopped suddenly, and chuckled. 

“Who, might I ask, is this?” He turned the sketchbook around only to show you a sketch you had done of his portrait that hung in the grand room of the manor. You gasped and snatched it from his hands instantly, curling in on yourself. You had drawn that not long after your arrival to the Dawn Winery, when you were still slightly optimistic about how your marriage to your husband would turn out. Diluc let out a roaring laugh, having to lean over you and brace himself on the tree so he didn’t fall over. You looked up at him and realized this was the closest you had ever been to him. You hadn't noticed just how many freckles had appeared on his skin. You noticed how his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and you saw fine red hair peppered across his chest. You also noticed faint scarring on his arms and stomach, and you mindlessly reached out to touch them. Diluc hissed at the sudden contact and quickly retreated out of reach, his own hands covering where your fingers had brushed. 

“I’m sorry!” you squeaked. You knew your husband couldn’t stand the cold, and you had been sparingly using your vision to keep yourself cool while you sketched. You knew your touch felt unpleasant. 

“I know you don’t like the cold, that was thoughtless of me.” you quickly apologized, feeling sorry and even more embarrassed than you already were. You made eye contact with him and Diluc held your gaze, looking confused. 

“How did you know that?” he tilted his head, letting go of his side and crossing his arms.

“Oh I, ah- you don’t like the cold so I’ve heard.” Adelinde had discussed Diluc’s aversion to the cold with you before, but you didn’t have many details as to why.

“I try not to use my vision while you’re home, but it’s exceedingly hot today.” you mumbled, bringing your sketchbook up to hide your face as you finally looked away from your husband. 

“I see. You,” he cleared his throat, “don’t have to do that you know.” You looked up at him again, noticing how red his face and ears were. Was it from the sun, or was he blushing? You couldn’t be sure. 

“That was actually why I came over in the first place- everyone wants more of the frozen drinks you made the other day. And I- I thought that may be something to keep you busy for the rest of the afternoon.” He was talking into his hand, still unable to look at you. Oh, how the tables have turned. You felt a wicked feeling bubble up in your chest, and you grinned ear to ear. 

“Oh, Master Diluc, you’d have your little wife work tirelessly to serve drinks to your employees? How indecent of you.” you smirked, resting your chin in the palm of your hand while you wait for his response. He gathered his composure quickly, and leaned over you to whisper in your ear.

“My little wife doesn’t know just how indecent her husband can be, hm?” his voice was low and felt hot in your ear, and he moved away from you all too quickly. You sat astounded, frozen in place. He’d never spoken to you in that tone before. He cleared his throat again, and his regular formal demeanor returned. 

“Besides, we don’t want you to die of boredom, do we?” he wasn’t smiling, but you heard a hint of playfulness in his voice. You shook your head in agreeance, still astounded by his sudden brazen comment. He nodded to you, and then quickly left to return to his work. You could feel the heat rising in your chest, heading straight for your core. You rubbed your thighs together in hopes of quelling your growing arousal, but it had no effect. You silently curse yourself, trying to regain your composure as Adelinde returns to your side, a smile on her face. 

“Shall we head to the kitchen?” she politely asked. You nodded again, not trusting your voice in the slightest. You gathered your things and stood up on wobbly knees to head back inside. You needed a reprieve from the sun, and you jumped at the chance to freely use your vision. Your mind wandered aimlessly as you worked, and you wondered if your husband would ever come to tolerate your touch. Why does he not like the cold? Is this the reason you rarely see him? What does he do when winter arrives? Your thoughts raced, one flowing right into the other. You realized you had long since been done with the frozen drinks, and Adelinde was calling your name frantically.

“Lady y/n! Are you alright?” you blinked in response, and realized it was snowing lightly in your kitchen. You tried to laugh it off, but Adelinde knew better.

“I’m okay, don’t worry. I was getting a bit excited while making everyone their drinks. I’m happy to have something to do!” you smiled, picking up the tray and turning to head back outside. You needed to get to your chambers as quickly as possible before the relentless heat between your thighs became unbearable. 

Diluc couldn’t get out of his head for the rest of the afternoon. His brief loss of control with you earlier was at the forefront of his mind, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how you looked at him afterwards. Your eyes turned hazy and a flush had quickly formed on your chest and neck. It was the heat, he told himself. He felt so bold in that moment, but now he wanted nothing more than to leave the manor and not return for a few weeks to let himself rebuild the wall that was quickly crumbling around him. With the final harvests coming to an end rapidly, he was going to be around Dawn Winery much more than usual. He usually welcomes this time of year, when he can spend a little more time to himself and rest. This year, he could feel dread slowly building inside of him. Maybe he couldn’t entertain you and keep himself as composed as he first thought. He greatly underestimated your ability to fluster him, and there was still a part of him that was reluctant to grow close to you. Growing close to someone means there's an opportunity to lose them. He quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind, and decided he’d pay another visit to your chambers.

As he walked across the manor, he thought about if you needed more art supplies. You were quite talented, and he selfishly wondered if you had drawn him more than once. You had given him a happier expression than the one displayed in his portrait, and the thought brought a smile to his face. He decided to find the best supplies money could buy in all of Teyvat as a gift for you. He came to a halt, realizing he was at your room quicker than he expected. He raised his hand to knock softly, and froze in place when he heard your voice from the other side of the door. 

“Diluc, please-” you whined. He was hearing things, he was sure of it. The heat had finally gotten to him and he was becoming delusional. He had to confirm his suspicions, though, and nothing prepared him for the image he met after quietly opening your door. 

You were sprawled out on your bed with your nightdress hiked up to your hips, legs spread impossibly wide. One arm was thrown over your face and covered your eyes while you concentrated and your other hand was at your core, fingers plunging in and out of your pretty pussy. Your breathing was heavy, and Diluc could feel heat climbing up his chest. You were so close. You pulled your fingers out to focus on your puffy clit, wanting to let the feeling last a little longer. You suddenly changed your position, startling your husband. You were completely unaware of your audience as you got onto your knees and shoved your face into your pillows. You continued your ministrations, and your ass was on full display. Diluc’s cock was so hard it was beginning to hurt, and he could tell by your quickened breathing that you were close. With a quiet cry, you came on your fingers. Your juices ran down your hands and shaking thighs as you stilled and sighed. Diluc suddenly turned and quietly bolted out of your room, not bothering to shut your door for fear of the noise alerting you to his presence. He slammed his own door behind him, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his body. He was undeniably aroused, his cock straining against his trousers.

So much for controlling myself, he chided. He wanted to absolutely ravish you. He wanted to touch you, to taste you, and have you crying out his name over and over and over again. He slid down the door, resting his arms over his knees as he sat down. Dragging his palms down his face, he groaned. The image of you touching yourself to the thought of him was burned into his memory, and he wouldn’t forget it anytime soon.

[janedoeswriting]

The Way The Wind Blows (Stiles x OC) Chapter Five

Description: Rhiannon finds herself trapped within her guilty pleasure tv show— Teen Wolf. Now, she must choose which path to take… one that leads back home, and another that follows uncertain adventure.

Tags: extreme slow burn, frienemies to lovers, fix it fic, canon change, actions have consequences.

TW: angst, fluff, sexual harassment, anxiety, depression, obsession, domestic violence, manipulation, etc. Just please do not read if you are sensitive to difficult subjects.

(Sun Bleached Flies by Ethel Cain)

**TW: violence, murder, gore, kidnapping. Read at your own peril.

"Someone was hungry," Austin said.

Rhiannon tore into the waffles with no remorse, only stopping to drink the soda it came with. She just hummed at him in both confirmation and dismissal. He laughed, and leaned back in the booth. Austin, she learned his name, was a fan of waffle house. She'd also learned he was quite the perfect subject for her little hitch hiking plan.

He was kind, and genuine. He didn't pry or ask any questions Rhiannon didn't want to answer. He had business in Beacon Hills, but didn't like staying in one place for too long. Which was perfect for Rhiannon.

She had insisted they get as far out of town as they could before they stopped for food. They finally stopped off the highway two hours east of the city in a tiny country town with just a waffle house and a chevron gas station as far as the eye could see.

The drive was interesting. Rhiannon had actually enjoyed painting this new persona. Bad girl rule breaker. Runaway teen.

Where she was from, she had seldom even gotten detention before. Now, she was breaking the law. And it felt good.

Talking to Austin distracted her from the guilt she felt.

"Thank you," she said through her food. "I love Waffle House." She truly hadn't had a better meal in her life.

"So... How long do you think it'll take 'em to notice your gone? A day? Two?" he asked playfully.

From the drive she had learned he had also run away in his adolescence. A few times, actually. He had also spent some time in county jail for minor crimes, but she didn't want to hear about her sponsor's criminal past. It didn't exactly ease her apprehension.

"An hour." she said, sipping her coke. He scoffed and shook his head. "You're gonna be in deep shit if you're caught."

She looked at him. "You'll be in deeper shit if we're caught." And that was that. He inclined his head in surrender. "We're gonna have to stop somewhere in a few hours to sleep. I'm assuming you don't have any pajamas in your little bag." he said, inclining his head to her bag. "Why do we have to stop? We can sleep in shifts--," she started. "Absolutely not." he quickly said.

"Why not?" Rhi asked incredulously.

"Because, Jane-," he said, using the false name she'd given him. It had taken some getting used to, but it was better than him knowing who she really was. "You're a girl."

"So?" she asked in offense. "So I don't trust you." He said matter-of-factly. She sighed.

"Well if it means anything, I don't trust you either."

"I'm touched." Austin said, and that perpetual smirk lifted at the corner of his lips again. He was truly heartbreakingly handsome. "I'm not sleeping in the same room as you." She said strictly. "I wouldn't dream if it." Austin responded. "Good." and she returned to her food. As they paid the check Rhiannon couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the old box television in the corner of the restaurant. It was muted but the screen displayed the local news channel. On it the words read, 'Teenage girl missing from Beacon Hills' A sketch that looked eerily similar to her own flashed on the screen. She quickly looked away.

Rhiannon swallowed and kept her head down till they were back on the road. --

By that night, Rhiannon had come to the conclusion that she liked Austin. He was funny, and he played the music loud and sang along to it too. He listened to her ranting, and she listened to the sob story of his tragic past. Orphaned as a child. In and out of foster homes all his life. All of them were abusive in some sort of way, and he had the scars to prove it.

When Rhiannon asked, "Why are you doing this for me?", he said

"I'll be totally honest with you, Jane. You remind me of me. If I'd had someone to just get me out long enough, I think I would have been better off in life. I wouldn't have gotten into stealing, or drug dealing.... You could turn out alright, Jane. I can see it." "Oh, you can?" she asked playfully. "I can." he responded seriously. Jane paused, and they shared a smile. "Well, alright then. If Austin sees a future where I'm free then I know I'm all set."

He laughed. "What do you want to do in life, Jane?"

Rhiannon thought about it. "I want to paint."

"To paint?" he asked incredulously. She smacked his arm and he laughed hard. "Yes, to paint."

"Well.. Are you any good?" he asked. She rolled her eyes but gazed out at the fields. "Yes. I'm pretty good."

"Good. Cause one day when your a fancy shmancy artist in the city I'll come callin' asking for a portion of the proceeds."

Rhiannon scoffed. His laugh was infectious, and he was charming to boot. "How come you don't have a girlfriend?"

She asked the question without even thinking, and her cheeks reddened at her own brazeness. "Why, you interested?" he asked, and she shoved her hand in his face as he mocked kissing noises at her. "Haha, get in line princess. I'm hard to keep in one place."

"Oh, right. You seem so difficult to hold down." she said sarcastically. "You know- picking up strange girls up from the side of the road and all." she added. "Oh come on. That's the definition of 'difficult to hold down'!"

She shook her head at him but their laughter carried as the sun set in brilliant oranges and reds.

--

"You're kidding me." she said. The lady at the front desk of the motel six looked at her through sagging eyes. She took a drag from her cigarette without a word, and blew the smoke out right into their faces. "Only one bed, sweetheart."

Austin looked at her with a resigned cringe. She turned in exasperation, and left him to pay. She had only read about 'one-bed' tropes in romance novels. She didn't think it would be real. Much less in a middle-of-nowhere town somewhere in Nevada.

He came outside of the dingy office illuminated by yellow flickering fluorescent lights. "Bed bugs." was his explanation. "Only one of the rooms doesn't have 'em."

"Great." she said sarcastically. He took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. "You smoke?" she asked in surprised. He looked down at them and then at her, as if he were caught red-handed.

"Oh- sorry-," he started. She took the cigarette from his fingers before he could stamp it out and inhaled.

He gazed at her in surprise. Her sudden bout of coolness was shattered when she broke into a fit of coughs. He laughed that wonderful infectious laugh. "Was that your first time?" he asked. She nodded, coughing into her elbow. "It hurts." she squeeked out.

"It doesn't hurt after a while." he said, taking a long drag and letting it out slowly to the sky. "What do we do?" Rhi asked after her lungs finally stopped aching. "Well, I booked the room, so you can sleep in there and I'll crash in the car."

In a good romance novel, Rhiannon would have protested and they would have begrudgingly shared a bed. But this was real life, and he was a stranger she met half a day ago.

"Okay." she said, and took the key he outstretched to her.

"I'll be using the shower first, though." he said. She nodded in understanding. The room was even grimier than she could have imagined. It was a combination of yellow wallpaper, brown carpet, and horrible interior design. The water pressure in the shower was criminal.

Rhiannon laid on the bed and stared at the popcorn ceiling as she listened to him shower. She almost fell asleep right there, but then the bathroom door opened and she shot up to a seated position. He came out rubbing his hair in a towel. Rhiannon didn't know if she was disappointed or relieved that he was fully dressed.

As he passed by her, she could still smell the faint cigarette smoke on him.

He turned to her, and with a gentle reassuring smile he said, "Don't forget to lock the door behind me."

With that, he was gone. She got up and did so immediately.

It took a long time to fall asleep. As she tossed and turned in the scratchy sheets she longed for the scent of lavender and lasagna.

--

Stiles sat in his car staring at the steering wheel. Deep purple bags lined his eyes. His father had sent out a police force to comb the city. Stiles himself had driven around all night, with the help of his friends. He even enlisted the help of Scott and Derek's pack to use her scent and comb the town.

She was gone. She was gone. Rhiannon was gone, and it was his fault. The news had been spread through the town and neighboring ones. Missing girl. Kidnapped, is what the news said. FBI and CPS were all over his father-- blaming him for not protecting her. Stiles didn't protect her. He was supposed to keep her safe.

It was three in the morning when Stiles pulled into his driveway. He couldn't get out of the car. If he did, it meant it was over. She was gone and it was his fault. It was his fault.

Why did he let her get out of the car? Why didn't he stay with her? Stiles' father knocked on the window and Stiles jumped. He looked just as tired as Stiles felt. Stiles opened the door.

Mr. Stilinski didn't have to say it. Stiles knew what his dad was thinking. He didn't need to be yelled at or grounded to know. It was his fault. Tears brimmed at his eyes before he could stop them.

"I'm sorry, dad." He said, his voice cracking. He'd said it a million times that day, but this time he felt truly defeated. It felt real. "I'm-," but Stiles was silenced by his father's hug. He held Stiles tightly to him. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

But it wasn't. It wasn't okay. "I'm gonna find her. I'll get her back." Stiles said desperately.

"It's not your fault, Stiles." his dad said.

But it was. "I'm gonna find her." Stiles said. "It's not your fault."

And Stiles leaned into him. He let the sobs wracking his chest out into his father's shoulder. He gripped him tightly. "We'll get her back, Stiles. She's gonna be fine."

Stiles couldn't help but picture the dead bodies he'd seen in the morgue. Heather's lifeless, cold body. Bloated and pale and reeking of death. The throat slit, head bashed in, ligature marks at the neck.

"We'll find her, Stiles."

--

"Wake up!" Rhiannon yelled.

Austin jerked awake in fear and shock. Rhiannon laughed aloud at his reaction. Upon realizing it was her, he took a deep breath of relief. He opened the passenger door. "Don't do that!"

But he had caught onto her laughter, and couldn't help but gaze at her as she shook her head at him.

"You should have seen your face."

"You're evil." he said, running a hand through his hair as he tried to gather his wits at the sudden awakening. "How early is it?" he asked. His voice was raspy and tired. Rhiannon tried not to let it distract her.

"Seven."

"Seven?! Are you crazy?"

She shrugged and cheekily tossed him the motel key. "Get ready. We've got a long day of driving."

A half an hour later, they were on the road again.

"What d'ya want for breakfast?" she asked, inspecting the contents of his glove compartment. "Oh, like your paying."

It was true-- she hadn't paid for anything at all. But she didn't exactly have any money and she hadn't offered.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm a girl." she said, throwing his own words from earlier back at him.

He shook his head with an easy smile. It felt like they had known each other for a lifetime. "McDonalds it is."

--

Rhiannon waited in the car patiently. When Austin came back he carried a bag of food in hand and gave it to her sternly. "Jane?" He said.

"Austin." She responded, already digging around for food.

"Do you even realize how much trouble your in?" he asked. Rhiannon's blood ran cold. Oh no.

He slapped a newspaper onto her lap. The front page read, 'Missing Teenager: Rhiannon Watson Presumed Kidnapped'. The police sketch of her face stared back at her. She cringed and looked up at him as he held the roof of the car and leaned forward against the open doorway. "Rhiannon?!" he exclaimed. She sighed and slammed the newspaper down. "You said you understood-," she started, but he cut her off.

"You said your name was Jane!"

"Okay, so I lied! What's the big deal? I didn't know you."

"Oh yeah? Find some other ride to Florida. I'm not a kidnapper." He said. She was already digging into the food. "Tell that to my foster father." she said, taking a bite of a McMuffin. "Your foster father is the Sheriff of Beacon Hills! Are you crazy?!" Rhiannon tilted her head to the side in consideration.

"Did you read the article? I mean-," she scoffed. "I could be."

"I'm taking you to a hospital." he said, getting in the truck and putting it in drive. "Yeah? Can't wait to tell them how you stole me off the side of the road."

He looked at her so severely she put her hands up in feigned innocence. "Listen-- Please just listen. I don't want to go back there. You told me you knew how it was. I- I can't go back. Just take me to Louisiana, drop me off, and none will be the wiser. You were never involved."

"Never involved?! Jane- ugh, Rhiannon. You lied to me."

"I didn't! I told you the truth. Except for my name, that was a lie, but everything else was the truth. You knew what you were getting into."

Austin hesitated. Rhiannon quickly followed up. "Don't act like you thought picking me up was some self-righteous act. You knew you were breaking the law. And if you take me to the hospital now, you're signing yourself up to wind back up in jail."

"You tricked me." "Austin, I didn't trick you. And I don't want to get you in trouble. I really don't."

They sat for a moment at the red light.

"Please. Don't take me back. It's gonna be alright." There was a long moment of silence as Austin contemplated. Finally, he said, "I'm dropping you off in Denver. From there on out, you're on your own."

Rhiannon sat back, relief flooding her body. "Denver it is."

--

It took a half a day for Austin to warm back up to Rhiannon. It was a long drive during which Rhiannon talked a lot. About who she was, and what had happened to her. Of course, she didn't tell him the whole truth, just the cover story. How she had no memories of her life, and was found in the middle of the road and then taken in by the Sheriff. She told him how lonely she felt. How the only thing she had to go off of was warm seas and palm trees (this, of course, was a lie). It worked anyhow.

Eventually, they were riding in pleasant conversation again. Whenever they stopped it was in small towns for very brief periods of time. She would wait in the car for him to bring her food, and would pee in gas stations that looked like they hadn't changed since they'd been built in the eighties.

Rhiannon asked him not to get any more newspapers. And deep down she appreciated the time they spent together. It was innocent, and nice. He was kind despite everything.

She felt like a vagabond with the world at her feet. And he was exactly what she needed to feel safe again.

At night he would stop in motels and get rooms while she waited in the car, and then she would slip in without a witness in sight. He never tried to overstep any boundaries and went out of his way to make sure she was comfortable.

And she was always comfortable. It was hard not to be with his southern manners. At night she would peek her head out of her motel room to find him standing outside, where he always had a room beside her's. He smoked cigarettes, and she would lean against the wall next to him inhaling the smoke and taking a few hits here and there.

"You always smell like cigarettes, you know." she commented.

"Do I?" he asked. She nodded and leaned back as she let some smoke fall out of her mouth.

"You do too, now." Austin said.

--

They'd been together for three days. Rhiannon was growing more and more weary of him. Not in a bad way.

In fact, in a horrible gut wrenchingly good way.

She was ever-aware of his fingertips brushing hers as they handed each other food, or changed the radio station. She sometimes laid her feet on his lap as he drove and let her head hang out the window. When they shared cigarettes, she tried not to think about the phantom touch of where is lips had been.

Austin never fought with her. He was too mature. Too light-hearted. He took her jokes in stride and returned them with vigor. He never pressed her or berated her behavior.

It was growing dark that third night. They had pulled into a small town. It was covered in churches-- one just about every corner. The houses were dim and small. The town was quiet, with not a soul around. Not even a motel.

"Where do we go?" Rhiannon asked sleepily, pulling her feet from his lap. He lifted his hand off her shin, where it had grown comfortable rubbing circles on her skin. They were becoming more and more accustomed to each others touch.

"I don't know. Everything is closed." He said, taking turn after turn down the winding roads. Rhiannon didn't even know what state they were in-- she'd lost track long ago.

The road they drove down turned into dirt, and the trees covered the path.

"I'll turn around up here." Austin said, his voice annoyed with his exhaustion and confusion at getting lost in this small town.

The road was longer than they thought. Eventually, it opened up to a single white church. It was very clearly abandoned, with the paint peeling and vines climbing up the walls. Austin slowed the truck to a stop as the headlights illuminated the building. Rhiannon looked at him, and he looked at her. "Wanna check it out?" he asked light heartedly. There was that playful fun he always seemed to adopt. She couldn't help her own smile. "We're gonna get serial killed out here." "Oh come on. This isn't a horror movie." he said, opening the door.

She sighed and followed him, taking her bag with her in case they did happen to stumble upon Leatherface. Of course, he didn't know about the knife in her bag, but he didn't need to know.

They walked forward together amongst the overgrowth. A stray stick caught on Rhiannon's foot, and she yelped as she stumbled forward. Austin caught her gracefully in his arms. She looked up at him and was struck again by his rugged handsomeness in the moonlight. "Are you scared?" he asked. She rolled her eyes, but as they continued forward she held his arm and walked close to him.

The door creaked open eerily as they stepped inside. The stain glass at the far end was broken open. Vines and branches of a tree stuck through. The place was rotting from the inside out, but for some reason it looked quite beautiful with the moonlight shining through.

They walked down the aisle together. She didn't need to hold his arm anymore, but she did anyway. She wanted to. She could feel his warmth. Her pulse quickened. "It's pretty." she commented, surprising herself. And it was pretty. Despite being an abandoned creepy church in the middle of nowhere, it looked quite holy in the moonlight.

They stopped at the altar. He looked down at her while she gazed up at the lush overgrowth. "It is," he said.

She looked up at him only to find he was staring at her. Her face ran red, and she could feel her stomach squirming in the oh-so heavy atmosphere that laid on them. She noticed his gaze on her lips, and she couldn't help but do the same. When she glanced back up to his eyes, she found he had caught her in the act.

When he leaned down and kissed her, Rhiannon froze. She didn't know why- she had kissed a boy before- but this was different. He paused and slightly withdrew just enough so that their lips were no longer touching. It was a moment of hesitation. Of confirmation, before Rhiannon answered his silent question. She ever so slightly leaned forward and kissed him back.

What had started gentle and tentative quickly turned ravenous. Rhiannon was almost taken aback by his eagerness for her. He quickly began to hold her body tightly against his, wrapping arms around her frame. He was bigger than she'd thought-- certainly not as skinny as Stiles was. The memory of Stiles flashing in her mind felt silly and she mentally banished it. But for some reason, she leaned in further and let him pull her body closer into his.

His hand was over her waist, brushing over her ass and stroking up her back all the way up to the base of her neck.

His animalistic moan stirred something within her, and in one fluid motion he lifted her up to straddle his torso. Her legs wrapped around him while Austin gripped her butt in his hands and roughly set her onto the crumbling stone altar. Her stomach did a somersault as his firmness pressed against her center. They were moving very quickly, and the desire and hunger was inconsolable.

At least, on his end. Something nagging in the bag of her mind led her to pull back slightly. He began to roughly bite and kiss her neck as she regretfully whispered the words. "Wait-... Not too fast." she said. Her voice was ragged from desire. It seemed to only satisfy him more. The sucking on her neck increased. Her hand pressed to his chest firmly. "Slow down." she said as her voice cleared.

And he did, kissing her softer and steadying his pace. She could hear his ragged breathing now. A groan in the back of his throat as his licking and sucking slowed at her request.

She couldn't help the devious smirk that tugged at her lips. She liked it. The control she had over him. His all-consuming desire for her.

He groaned again and leaned his head against her chest, his hands pulling from her waist and resting on the altar beside her hips. He gripped the stone and closed his eyes, pulling himself together.

"You smell so good." he said gruffly, taking a deep breath. She knew she probably didn't-- as she had been using motel bodywash and his deodorant for the past few days. But she took the compliment nonetheless.

One of his hands, which had been clutching the stone, moved back to her waist. She glanced down at it. Her heartbeat skipped. There was a crack there now in the stone where his hand had just been. In the shape of his grip. Maybe it had already been there. She glanced to the other side, where his other hand followed suit and lightly held her other hip. A similarly shaped mark was etched into the stone. As if he had supernatural strength. He lifted his head, and she pretended like she hadn't seen a thing. She smiled as sultrily as she could. This seemed to work, and he took her lips into his once more. She kissed him with her eyes open this time, not knowing what to do with her hands.

She pulled back once more before it went too far.

She used her foot to push him back and swiftly jumped off the altar. She gave him a cheeky smile at his confused put-out expression. She tried to stay as nonchalant as possible.

"I'm not that easy, Austin. Gonna have to take me on a few dates, first." She said this as she sauntered past him and reached down to sling her bag back over her shoulder which she had dropped in their fiery exchange. She turned back to him, and there was that gut-wrenching smile again. But now, Rhiannon thought that something looked off about it.

Maybe it was how that smile didn't quite meet his eyes. Or how they reflected the moonlight in a strange way.

Maybe she was being paranoid, but a nagging instinct tugged at her chest. She had to get out of there. She had to act like nothing was wrong and convince him to drive to a motel.

He tilted his head to the side, and the moonlight shone strangely around his dark figure. Those eyes-- they weren't just reflecting strangely. They were glowing. A milky, silvery white.

He wasn't a werewolf, like she had suspected just moments before. This was worse. So much worse. He was a wendigo. And all she remembered about wendigos was their intense craving for human flesh.

"You know what I am, don't you, Rhiannon? I can hear your heartbeat. I can smell your lies."

She stepped back, her hand slowly sliding down her bag's handle. She spoke to try and distract him as she reached for her knife. He slowly walked toward her, taking each step down from the altar painfully slow. "You're a wendigo." she said. "Good girl! I knew there was something different about you. So smart. So... beautiful." At this last part, his milky eyes raved over her body. To her horror, that crooked white smile was overtaken by rows of thin long teeth.

"Please don't eat me." She said, not knowing what else to say. Her voice sounded strange. He was walking crookedly and tilted his head to the other side. It reminded her of a bird, inspecting a worm. He was rapidly closing the distance and she couldn't back away fast enough. "Oh," he laughed. It was a lovers laugh. A gentle, soft sound. A sound she remembered from the drive when she would belt out lyrics in the truck. A sound from moments earlier, when she finally closed the distance between them and kissed him back. "Oh, no, baby. I'm not gonna eat 'chu. How could I?" He said. That country accent which had been so endearing only twenty minutes ago was now horrifying. "Ya see-- I was gonna. I mean, why'd'ya think I even pick up hitchhikers? Such easy meat. And I've been o-so hungry. But then you talked. And you were sooo entertaining," he said. As he spoke, her hand wrapped around the handle of the blade. She stepped onto the threshold of the church as she walked backward. There were no street lamps or town lights anywhere around. Only the moon shining down from above as he closed in on his prey. "You smell-," he deeply inhaled and briefly paused with his eyes closed before opening them again. "So much better than any human I've met before. But then I got to thinkin'-- what a waste! What a horrible waste it would be to get rid of someone so beautiful. So young, so perfect." he had finally reached her. He was talking slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. She was stumbling over sticks and had reached the thick tall grass.

He grazed a finger down her cheek. His hand was shaking like an addict in withdrawal. "It took so much self control. So, so much patience. But I can't stand it anymore. I have to make you mine." "Yours?" she said, voice shaky. Her heart was pounding. Her mind reeled as adrenaline pumped through her body.

"All it takes is for you to feed. A bit of human flesh and then you'll be like me. And we can be together, like this-- always."

She was struck with a horror she couldn't even process. He didn't want to eat her. He was going to turn her into a wendigo.

She stepped back to try and make a break for it, but he lunged forward too fast to even process and grabbed her wrist and yanked her up. Her full body weight pulled against him, but it didn't matter-- his supernatural strength was too much to even remotely hold her own against.

The knife gleamed in the moonlight as he held her arm up. He glanced at it and laughed as she tugged against him so hard she thought her arm might rip out of it's socket.

"So smart." He said as he gripped her face roughly with his free hand.

His grip tightened so painfully Rhiannon bit out a scream and dropped the knife. He leaned in to kiss her, bite her-- Rhiannon didn't know what. He froze inches from her mouth. With her other hand, she had caught the knife before it fell to the ground and plunged it into his abdomen.

She'd only ever seen it in movies. Where other's had taught characters on the screen where to stab in order to kill a man. She dug the blade up firmly into his ribs and twisted. She couldn't believe it worked.

For a moment, she heard him grunt. Finally, the grip on his wrist loosened and he fell to the ground. Her grip on the knife was too strong, and it ripped out of his body as he fell to the ground. Her vision was red. Before she could think, she lunged down and stabbed him in the eye-- where the flesh was soft and easier to break through. He screamed and she took the knife out again before he could throw her off of him.

All she could think was his supernatural strength. If she hesitated even for a moment, he would throw her off of him and she would be dead. So she thrust the knife once more into his neck from the side. It stuck out the other end-- straight through his throat.

His blood was warm as it sprayed her from his gaping eyesocket and throat. She attempted to rip the knife forward, but it was too difficult. She had to press her foot on his chest and use both hands before she managed to rip it out straight through his throat and out the front of his neck. The blood sprayed again-- over her face and hands and body. The force of ripping out his throat caused her to fall back onto her back and she scrambled up once more.

She didn't realize just how bloody murder was. Didn't realize how slowly it took. He was gurgling, and there was a sick deep rattle coming from the back of his throat. That milky eye faded back to human. His glimmering bloody teeth retracted. He couldn't speak or scream. He began to shake uncontrollably- possibly seizing.

He continued to make those disgusting choking noises and bile rose in Rhiannon's throat. The blood continued to spray. She didn't want to, but she nonetheless plunged the knife into him again. She didn't know where the heart was, but hoped she would hit it. It was hard to get through his chest. Harder than when she stabbed the fleshy parts of his side or eye. She stood up and stomped on the hilt with all her might. It dug so far through him that the hilt disappeared within him and went straight through to pin him into the dirt.

She leaned to the side and projectile vomited next to his head. Once. Twice. Three times, before nothing came up anymore.

He stopped struggling finally. He was still alive, but his life was quickly fading. She looked him in his one good eye, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and smearing the blood in the process.

"Thanks for the ride." she grimly said. The strength of her monotone voice surprised even her. Something within her had turned off in those ten minutes. It felt like an eternity, but he finally died. She saw the life leave his eyes. Saw him stop breathing. She didn't leave until she tentatively reached down and felt for his pulse. When there was none, she stood back up and stared at him.

It felt so strangely distant. Like she had left her body and it was no longer her anymore. She vaguely thought that if she hadn't caught him by surprise, she would be dead now. Better you than me, she thought grimly.

She didn't know how long she watched him. She stood perfectly still. A night breeze cooled her face and ran through her hair. Frogs sang. Fireflies blinked in the air. It smelled strongly like copper and grass.

She reached down and tugged his wallet and keys out of his pocket.

When Rhiannon finally marched out of the tall grass and back to the path to the truck, his blood that stained her body had grown cold. It was slowly starting to dry.

She glanced back. In the moonlight she looked to where she had left his body-- knife still buried in his chest and pinning him to the earth. She couldn't see him at all hidden in the grass. If she didn't know any better, she would never guessed that Austin's corpse was laying in that overgrown field, becoming stiff and cold with each passing minute.

She drove out of the town, with his blood drying in her hair and on her hands and face and clothes. Her muscles were stiff. Coming down from the adrenaline made her shaky.

She pulled a cigarette off the dash and lit it. The smoke blew out the open window as she passed the sign that read 'Leaving Colorful Colorado'.

==

Notes: Wow, so that was heavy. The part of Stiles and his dad was inspired by Good Will Hunting. The aesthetic and overall vibe was giving Ethel Cain, so that song was pretty fitting. I really like those scenes in movies where its the last girl standing-- like the ending of the movie Hide and Seek. Cheesy, but this is a fanfiction so what do you expect? Who would have thought our little Rhiannon would become a murderer in only chapter five? Her story certainly isn't as squeeky clean as Scott's. I hope you all liked it. Let me know what you think.

PART SIX

[dbmars]

I posted a new fic! Don't worry, it's only 2.7k. You don't have to make as big a commitment as Hannibal wants to make with Will... that they spend the rest of their lives together.

This prompt came from Alisha, one of our Patreon patrons for The Feast Is Life podcast. If you'd like to wield the power of my pen (or my typing fingers) you can do so for just 5$ a month:

Something Blue

Will knows.

He has to know. 

I’ve ordered the fires extinguished in his brain. As I picked up the phone to tell Dr. Sutcliffe I’d changed my mind, I knew I was setting events into motion that could end with my death or lifelong imprisonment. I also understood that taking such a risk was imperative, as it may be the key to the greatest happiness I’ve ever known. The one certainty I clung to as I foiled my own plans was that Will would know me. See me. What he would decide to do with that knowledge is impossible to predict. 

But now, sitting in Jack’s office, I can’t be sure he’s received my messages. Understood the scope of my declaration.

I supervised his care during his recovery from encephalitis, driving him to his appointments when it wasn’t safe for him to be behind the wheel, picking up prescriptions and groceries. Cooked him proper meals, meant to nourish and calm the inflammation as well as delight the senses. I fed his dogs, paid to have his lawn serviced and the house cleaned and the hounds groomed. 

It was in his nature, of course, to refuse help. Will’s father raised him to reject charitable offerings out of pride. Pride, also, insists he must be self-sufficient; alone and lonely so long, he wears fierce independence like armor. But I am nothing if not patient and persistent, and he submitted long before I thought he would. 

His desire to be taken care of crumbled that pride like a faulty dam springing leaks before its catastrophic collapse. I’d like to think I had something to do with it. Not only care, but care from me . 

Once Will recovered from his immune system's misguided attack, we resumed our therapy and our friendship. Both flourished, a well-tended garden, roots deep in the soil and blossoms unfurling in the sun. We discussed killing the way others might discuss art, poetry, music. He invited me to fish with him and cook the catch after. I invited him to dinner. It’s become our routine to linger in my office for hours after his session is supposed to have ended, drinking wine by the fire. He let me sketch him once, his face in profile, illuminated by the flames.

One night, three months ago, he put his hand over mine on the arm of my chair. Gave it a tender squeeze. 

And that is when I decided to reveal myself to him, come what may, though the gesture of affection has not been repeated since.

[moonlit-dreamers]

been doodling for a while and made this bullshit for @bloodmoons-knife long live the king fic/au

was originally just gonna be a doodle and figuring out wut she looks like then went "wait this looks like a meme-" and realized wut it was so i just. i just had to man

i swear ill draw lunar and binary soon OTL

reblogs appreciated :)

ramblings under le cut

about the art- i decided to take advantage of this moment to fuck around with my art style. they have noses (ik, wow, crazy) and i tried to let myself be as imperfect as possible (ofc i was still annoyingly nitpicky but- i still like how it all came out). i didnt even sketch a single one of these. was that a bit stupid? maybe. but it was still very fun to fuck around and find out

when drawing nebula i wanted to have him look both very soft and kind but also fucking exhausted. at first i was unsure if i had gotten the wet cat energy right until i put a photo next to it and i was like "yeah. thats a fucking soggy man."

rust is forever gremlin, even if they just turn into a teddy bear the moment eridanus picks them up.

eri was actually quite fun to draw since ive never drawn mermaids before but- no time like the present and a pretty lady who must be drawn.

but onto the fic! i am. incredibly normal about it (lying)

the dynamics between everyone is just so fun to read through. especially when theyre all here for similar reasons: grief and loss.

watching them all grow and learn to cope through each other is so sweet to watch. and even tho nebula seems to be more content watching them heal rather than healing himself they wont let him neglect himself any longer it seems :) theyre grabbing a towel and fucking getting him whether he likes it or not. and if they dont then i will.

im so curious as to how lunar will come to fit into all of this as well.

we r putting these beasts into situations and watching them fight to survive and its wonderful

[mqsi]

This wasn’t in your sketches

part 1

welcome to my first longer story, I don’t know how many parts it will have but it’s safe to say I have the whole fic planned out. I’m going to work on requests between uploading this, don’t worry.that’s all, enjoy :)

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You woke up one morning with a call from your manager, informing you about a job opportunity you could only dream of. You always had passion for creating ,pulling together different supplies and materials, sketching stuff. That’s how you ended up applying for a Nike designing contest at 18 years old and actually winning it, earning yourself a job at Nike. You were put under your loving manager, Carla. She was in her 30s and had a very bubbly personality. But she could be too much at times. Like right now.

“Buen día beautiful, i assumed you were up so I called!” her voice echoed trough your phone. It was only 8am and you had a free day today.

“Yeah I’m up” you said without even opening you eyes.

“Awesome! You won’t believe what a deal I got for you. I’ve managed to get a famous footballer to model the new spring collection pieces that YOU will design!”

Your eyes snapped open and you jumped up in bed.

“How come? Why me? Isn’t there a lot of other, more experienced designers here?”

“Oh honey please, I wanted to make an opportunity for you. Plus Gavi is already a Nike athlete so his manager was happy to let him do this!”

“Gavi? Like Pablo Gavi?”

“We will have a first meeting with him tomorrow, so you can get to know him a bit and see what prefrences he has! Have a good day!” and she hung up. You were sitting in bed for another 15 minutes, just thinking about what just happened. Suddenly, your stomach started doing flips, what if you screw up?

Tomorrow came fast, you woke up, got ready and met up with Carla so you can go together. You were meeting up in your studio. As you entered the room behind Carla, Gavi was already there with his manager.

“Hello, I’m glad you two could make it today!” She yelled, greeting both men.

“Hi Carla, nice to finally meet you in person” Gavi’s manager said. Carla started chattering about the project before finishing with presenting you.

“I put her in charge of this project, cause she’s young and I wanna see her rise in this job. She has a lot of potential” she said, her arms pointing at your direction. You took a step forward and introduced yourself. Before you could say anything else, Carla inturrupted you once again.

“Okay! How about we grab some coffee in the cafeteria outside, while they finish everything up?” she said, grabbing Gavi’s manager by the arm and practically pulling him away.

“Are you sure? We should-“

“Oh of course I’m sure! You two will work great” she said,looking at you, before dragging the man outside. You let out a sigh before nervously turning to Gavi who sat in the chair, manspreading with his arms crossed against his chest. He was wearing a white hoodie and some black cargos.

“I’m sorry, she’s a handful” you said, trying to read Gavi’s expression.

“I can see that” he said, letting out a breathy laugh before making eye contact with you.

“Alright, let me just check the information I have” you said, opening some files on your computer so you can escape his intense gaze “I don’t have your measurements so-“

“How old are you?” Gavi cut you off.

With a confused look you turned your head around to look at him

“Why?”

“Cause you look younger than me”

“I just turned 19”

“How are you 19 and work as a main designer for Nike?” he said, making a face.

You put down some papers you were rummaging trough and faced him with your whole body, while leaning against the table.

“You’re 18 and cost 90 million, do you really want to talk about this?” you asked sarcastically.

“Do you only see me as a price tag?” he asked now obviously irritated by your statement.

“Me personally, no. But half of the football world does”

“What are you now, a football expert?” Gavi said, irritation more evident in every sentence he said. For the first time today you were glad Carla inturruped the conevrsation by opening the door slightly.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, smiling like usual.

You composed yourself and turned to her with a loving expression on your face.

“Yes, everything is perfect” you replied, relaxing your face as soon as she left.

Turning your attention back to Gavi who was looking at you with his signature frown.

“Can you get up so I can measure you?”

Without a word, he got up from his seat and you walked over to him. You knew he wasn’t tall but the fact that your faces were so close to each other made you swallow, before returning to the task. You instructed him to hold one end of the measuring tape as you bent down. While you were trying to read the number accurately, Gavi spoke up.

“Do you do this often?”

You looked up at him, confused.

“Excuse me?”

Gavi was looking down at you, trying to keep a straight face.

“Get on your knees for men you meet for the first time?”

There was a few seconds of you two just staring down at each other, before you stood up. Your faces were now even closer than before but you didn’t care. Gavi was looking straight at you, lips curving into a smirk.

“If my job wasn’t hanging on this, I would slap the shit out of you right now” you said in his face. Before he could say anything else, you finished what you were doing and turned around to write down the numbers.

“Anything else?” he asked.

You looked back at him for a second before leaving the studio. Yes, there was something else, there was a lot of things to discuss but you were not capable of doing that today, not after that comment. The golden boy will have to make time for an extra meeting. As you were about to cross the street to reach Carla, Gavi came rushing to you.

“Hey it was a joke. I thought you have a sense of humor like that, that’s all”

“I saw enough of your temper on the field to expect such behaviour but not like this” you replied.

“Well good thing this isn’t a football pitch and I don’t act like that in everyday situations”

You turned around to face him.

“In that case I also don’t forgive with a pat on the shoulder”. Gavi was trying to form a sentance but you stopped him “I’m a big coffee lover” you said before crossing the street.

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part 2