#fic: Fire in the Mountains

[v-ternus]

the lost myth of true love

Day 2 of Kinktober- Tail Play

[prompts courtesy of the lovely @kroas-adtam ]

Explicit | Mountain and tWaterDew

Summary: Mountain introduces Dew to a new world

below for your consumption :)

Its a perfect late afternoon, Mountain thinks. He’d managed to finish his work in the greenhouse earlier than expected and he got to watch the start of the sunset as he was locking things up. On his way back to the ghoul wing, he got to watch some of the ministry children play in the courtyard– hopscotch is what they said when he had wandered over and asked. As he weaved through the hallways, a nice cool breeze followed and carried with it, the decadent smell of Aether’s workings in the kitchen. It was all peaceful, and it was some much needed calm.

But what really tops the cake for Mountain is what’s waiting for him just atop his nest. He cracks his door open to see the new water ghoul leaning against his pile of furs and cushions with a book in his hands. He recognizes it almost immediately– a hardbound edition of Metamorphoses by Ovid. Dew looks up at the earth ghoul and his face warms with a smile. 

The two had gotten very accustomed to each other in the months since Dew’s summoning. The way their elements entwined made things easier– they just both got each other. They knew how to coexist together in perfect harmony and neither could be happier. Where things changed was during one stormy night, a mere few weeks since Dew had come topside.

Mountain had peered into Dew’s room that night after he heard small whimpers. He saw Dew’s skin, slick with sweat and he felt so hot he was almost burning. When Dew moaned as Mountain’s fingers met his skin, Mountain knew what was happening. He helped him through that night, his first heat. He held him close to his chest as he buried himself deep. He listened closely to each moan and each high pitched whine whenever he prodded at that special spot that made Dew see stars. Everything from that night is burned so deeply into his mind– and he wants to give Dew more. He’d give Dew his heart if he could.

“Where are you at now?” Mountain asks as he rids himself of his work clothes, stripping down to his boxers and a white sleep shirt. 

“Im just about through Orpheus and Eurydice.” He watches Mountain pad over as he sets the book down on the bedside table. The earth ghoul continues his stride until he’s crawling towards Dew. He straddles a pair of spindly thighs and reaches forward to cradle Dew’s cheeks in his hands. He places a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“What do you think of it?” He brings their lips together, this time for a real kiss, not actually giving Dew any time to answer. His tongue slips in past Dew’s lips and he swallows the moan that rumbles from Dew’s chest. He pulls himself back from Dew to get a good look at his puffy lips and flushed cheeks. It takes Dew a second to remember that Mountain had asked him a question. 

“He really loves her,” He says, breathless. “Really, really loves her.” He knows that it sounds juvenile, hell it even feels that way too, but Dew can't find any other word to describe it. Orpheus loved Eurydice so much, enough to descend into the underworld for her. His love was so grand, so intense that it swayed gods. It was impossible for Dew to even describe a fraction of that with mortal words, they just wouldn't do it any justice. 

“Yeah he does droplet.” Mountain punctuates his words with carefully placed kisses right over Dew’s eyelids. Then his nose. Then the sharp angles of his cheekbones. He keeps going, doing his best to touch his lips to every atom that makes up his love. 

“Does he remind you of anyone?” There’s a joking tone to Mountain’s voice. Dew just gives him a nice hum. 

Of course he reminds me of someone Mount. He says the words to himself, lets them echo in his mind because he’s too nervous to speak them aloud. Instead, he crashes his lips back onto Mountain’s. He cant say it, but he’ll do his damn best to show it. He laps greedily against Mountain's mouth, pulling him impossibly closer. Dew drinks him down like he’s the first sip of water after 40 days and nights in the desert. 

There’s no retreat in his efforts, and soon enough Mountain feels like he’s actually stealing the breath from his lungs, unable to take a proper breath with the way Dew seems intent on consuming him. He taps Dew’s neck, and it's enough of a gesture that it seems to pull Dew back from the edge. 

Mountain takes in a few breaths to get his bearings before posing what should be some of the last coherent words of the evening. “Can I show you something?”

“Anything.” 

Mountain peels himself out of Dew’s lap and situates himself against the headboard. He watches the confused look plastered across Dew’s face as he pats his hand on his leg.

“C’mere.” Dew keeps the confused look but follows the request, facing Mountain and straddling his thigh. 

“You’ll tell me to stop if you don’t like it right?” In all of the moments they’ve shared like this, Mountain always asks.

“Always Mount. But what’re you talking about?” Dew knows that Mountain wouldn't do something to hurt him, but now knowing what awaits him has nerves twisting in his gut. 

“Just give it a sec hmm?” Mountain says as he cradles Dew’s face again, drifting his thumbs over the delicate skin. “I need you to drop your glamor for this love.” Dew obliges, releasing the hold he has on his magic, ridding himself of the near constant tension at the crown of his head. 

As he relaxes, the skin on his neck opens up to reveal his gills, glowing just like the bioluminescent swirls that paint the rest of his skin. His scales along his arms shimmer in the warm light of the sunset. The sight makes Mountain gasp. It's something truly special to witness Dew’s true form, and he savors it everytime. 

Dew watches as Mountain lets his hands drift to his waist and squeeze at them affectionately. He stares at how far his fingers reach– Mountain’s fingers could wrap around his whole body with no effort. But what really gets Dew going is the quickly growing tent in Mountain’s boxers. He grinds down against Mountain’s leg then, searching for some type of friction now that he has an idea of what’s in store for him. 

Mountain rocks Dew forward, making him lean flush to his chest. He brings a hand to the space between Dew’s bony shoulder blades and uses the grip to hold Dew close. His other hand laces itself into the soft, golden hair and tugs on it just enough to angle Dew’s face towards him. He gives one last kiss on the tip of Dew’s nose before tracing his finger down Dew’s spine. He feels each ridge and feels goosebumps form. He stops just above where a certain appendage juts out of their mortal vessels. 

“You ever touch yourself here droplet?” He asks as his large hand wraps around the base of Dew’s tail. Dew mumbles a quiet no, almost as if he was embarrassed. What a shame, he thinks, Dew should know every bodily delight, especially considering how sensitive these human bodies are. A twisted pride blooms in Mountain, another addition to his ego. Another first for Dew, at his own hands. 

“N– no,” Dew stutters, unable to pull in a full breath with the sudden fire coursing up his spine. “Fuck… that’s sensitive.”

“That it is bug.” This time, Mountain strokes it, starting at the base and gently tugging a few inches.  

“It turns out shoving hellbeast into human bodies lands us in some fun situations. Some wires get crossed when we drop our glamours, the body doesn't know what to do with our tails.” He speaks almost aimlessly as he continues to tug at Dew’s tail.

“I remember when Zephyr first had me like this, they were my first too.” This time, Mountain lets a finger drift to the underside of Dew’s tail, stroking at the space between it and his tight hole. That was Mountain’s own spot. Even the slightest touches sent him hurtling towards the edge. What’s the harm in trying it on Dew?

It turns out, there’s a lot of harm. Dew just about lights on fire as Mountain skims the rough pad of his finger against him. It's too much and not enough at the same time. His brain cries out for it to stop, but it begs for Mountain at even the slightest suggestion of him slowing down. 

“I was a little newer than you I think,” The gentle movement of his hand stills as he removes his finger and drags his thumb over the sensitive base instead. Dew feels like his face is about to melt off. He digs his head into Montain’s shoulder and exhales into the sturdy muscle. It doesn't work. He doesn't know how Mountain can stay this calm and collected as he falls apart in his lap. 

He tries to coach himself through the fog, tries to breathe through each slow brush of Mountain’s hand. It proves just as futile.

“That’s a good boy,” The praise doesn't really make sense to him, he isn't doing anything, or at least that's what he thinks. “Take what you need baby.”

He realizes he’s been unknowingly grinding his still clothed cunt over Mountain’s thigh, coating it in slick that he’s sure is making a wet spot on the bed below. Mountain has been able to feel each twitch of Dew’s cock against him and it's done nothing but spur him on. It's almost become a mission to him, to pick Dew apart until he’s a bumbling mess. 

“Mount, you gotta… wait. Fuck, hold on” Dew contests. He doesnt know how much longer he can last.

“Are you sure?” Dew knows how to make this stop, he knows exactly what word to say to get Mountain’s hands off of him. 

“-yes. N–no. I dont know.” Dew sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, but Mountain knows they’ll be good ones. “Can I cum Mounty? Please?” 

Mountain feels his heart bloom at the request. He weaves his free hand into the hair on the back of Dew’s head and runs his nails over his scalp, scratching at that spot that calms Dew down during thunderstorms and bad bus rides and turbulent flights. He comforts him, because what’s about to happen is going to hit him like a truck.

“Of course my love,” He thinks he’s more excited about this than Dew is, he’s always excited when he gets to make his siren feel good. 

Mountain holds him to his chest tight, and spurs on each roll of his hips with a stream of ‘good boy’ and ‘there you go’  whispered against his temple. 

“Get me nice and messy droplet, whenever you’re ready.” It doesnt take much more for Dew to tumble off the high cliff of his pleasure. One soft brush of Mountain’s finger against the underside of his tail has him cumming silently as he keeps rutting against Mountain’s thigh. To drive it home, Mountain wraps his hand around the base of his tail one last time and squeezes softly, just until he feels a wet gush against his leg. 

“So good for me Dew, you did so well.” He whispers his praise as he pries his hands away from the now sensitive muscle and brings it up to Dew’s lower back. He feels each twitch of the small body on him, each jerk as his body works through the earth shattering orgasm. Underneath it all, he can feel the gentle rumbling of Dew purring.

Dew doesn't know how to express himself after that, and even if he could, the words wouldn't come out how he wanted them to. 

“That… was. Mount, that–”

“I know.” Mountain says it so matter-of-factly that if he wasnt spreading gentle touches across Dew, he’d think that he was bored. 

“You?” Dew asks. ‘What about you?’ is what he means to ask, but the words get lost between his brain and his lips.

Mountain chuckles at the fact that the first thing Dew does is ask about him. He always wants to check on everyone else, he wants to make sure they’re taken care of. Even if it means that sometimes, he’s set on the backburner, letting himself be burned by the flames. 

“Im fine Dew.” Mountain insists, hoping its enough to convince Dew to relax for once. Stubborn as he is, the water ghoul doesnt let up. He musters up some strength, just enough to angle his head so that he’s almost face to face with Mountain. 

“Let me help Mount, you didnt….” The worry that drips from his words makes Mountain’s heart swell. The love they have for eachother knows no bounds. 

Mountain buries his nose into Dew’s hair and inhales the cool, crisp scent of his arousal. “I did bug. I did.”

[denkisauce]

shoutos wedding look from the fire in the mountains series by @ellabesmirched, one of my all time favorite fics <3

i’ve wanted to draw this outfit since i first read the fic literally over 2 years ago :3 i love when authors put detailed descriptions of outfits in their stories!! the highly visual description under the cut ☺️

the description from the fic! if you havent read this fic and you like the idea of todobaku, bakubowl, deconstructing monogamy, enemies to lovers, a rich fantasy world with a lots of magic, plot, angst prince shouto, bakugou character study etcetera etcetera, i highly recommend reading it!!!

[chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct]

Royona Clegane updated portrait

Not much different from the last but I like this one more

Most agreed that her comely likeness was quite the pity, wasted as it was upon such an unfortunately tragic creature.

This is short because I hate saying mean things about her but it's all I could think of

[owlheartt]

TRYING AGAIN. Bc the void consumed or whatever >:(

I’m writing a WoF fic that’s basically “fuck you the kids stay in school” plus a lot of culture clash. Also Mind reading and animus magic works differently bc those powers were set up to write fantastical adventures and I just want some kids doing just some kid stuff.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/53136409

[mangoofthesea]

what I say: I like reading fiction about power structures and systems of governance outside of our usual - like royalty fantasy or rogue criminal heist kind of thing. The action sequences and higher levels of consequences are really cool

what I mean: it's about the experience of being trapped within a system which you hate but want to sustain in a better way than it has been for the good of its members its about loving your family while hating your family while being stuck somewhere you want to improve you can't escape your responsibility but you can try its a never ending struggle of deciding who you are and who you could be and how you can live and live with yourself while within such systems that feel like a wall closing in on you and your life as you try to build a life with less corruption than the last generation its about th-

[geekymoviemom]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Ahh, thank you so much for the ask! ♥️ I’ve actually never done one of these before 😆

Shockingly, I actually do have a fic of mine that is a definite Number 1, my superfamily fic Forty-Seven Flat. I’d been toying with the idea of writing this fic for a couple of years, as a way of working through some personal baggage that I’d been carrying around since I was a teenager, and I finally just decided to bite the bullet and do it. I had absolutely no qualms that anyone would be interested in a fic about swimming, and so was completely floored not only by the overwhelmingly positive response that the story received, but also how cathartic it was for me to finally write it ♥️

The rest of my faves are in no particular order, as per usual 😆

* Pieces of Echoes, my very first superfamily fic ♥️ 💙 ♥️

* Fire Beats Roses, Everlark arranged marriage fic 🧡 💚

* Across the Worlds, Anidala post-ROTJ AU 💙 ♥️

* Tie between Immovable Mountains and The Phoenix Project, both superfamily ♥️ 💙 ♥️

Thank you so much for the ask, this was fun! 💖

Tagging: @mega-aulover @herogers @mollywog @endlessnightlock @hutchhitched @mtk4fun and anyone else who would like to participate 💖

[copper-skulls]

the goddamn unnamed vampire grillster au. caveat: grillby is barely present until chapter NINE. when there's gonna be like. UNDER TWENTY of them. name.

[peanutbutter-doodles]

He Wants It...No..He Needs It.

‘‘Today is Not My Fucking Day’‘

‘‘OH IT’S DEFINITLEY NOT MY FUCKING DAY!’‘ 

Dew Angrily Mutters To Himself As He Throws And Kicks Stuff Around His Room Almost Breaking Some of Things He Holds Dearly To His Fiery Heart. Any Day He Would Be Careful Trying not to Break Anything In His Path But After The Day He Had Today He Doesn’t Care and Is At His Limit.

Even Waking Up In The Morning, He Felt It  Was Going to Bad Today But He Didn’t Expect How it’ll Go For Him Leading Him To Where He Is Now.

From Stepping On A Thumbtack To Being Electrocuted By A Loose Wire In Band Practice, Being Teased By Swiss, It Shouldn’t Have Bothered him But it Did. Getting His Pants Caught In the Door, Being Chewed Out By Imperator For One Thing That Wasn’t Even His fault. Anything That Should Have Gone Right Today Went So Utterly Bad For Him As More Terrible Yet Utterly Humiliatingly Things Happen As Well.

In His Violent Anger,  He Plops Down In the Mess He Created During His Massive Meltdown Rocking Himself Back And Forth Pressuring Himself To Calm Down But That’s Not Even Helping As The Thoughts In His Own Mind Start to Bother Him.

Not Even Safe From His Mind Today Too.

He’s Looks Anywhere Trying to Make His Mind off Track But Looking At Mess He created, There Piling In Fast.

‘‘Stupid’‘ 

‘‘Couldn’t Even Do It Right’‘

‘‘That Was Surrrre Electrifying Dew, Watcha Trying To do?’‘ Become A Glitch, Hehhehe.’‘

Dew Covers Himself With His Hands, Starting To Shake As He Rocks and Back Forth Faster Breaking Down More Little By Little Causing His Room To Heat Up.

‘‘You Sure Aren’t A Water Ghoul?’‘ 

‘‘You Still Have The Blue Eye There.’‘

‘‘Ghoul Stop Being Useless and Get Back To Work.’‘

‘‘Look All I Am Saying is That Aether Doesn’t Deserve To Be With a Ghoul Like You.’‘

The Room Heats Up, Nails Digging Into To His Skin

‘‘Why Would I Spend A Night With Dew, I’m Pretty Sure He’s Terrible In Bed.’‘

Nails Digging In More Starting to Bleed As Well.

‘‘You Look Awful Today’‘

‘‘I’m Sorry If I Sound Mean But I Think You were Better Looking As a Water Ghoul Without The Afflictions’‘

‘‘Hey Weren’t You The Ghoul Ifri-

He slams The Back of His Head Against The Floor Just Try Somethin, Anything To Make It Not Caring If it Hurts Himself. Looking Up Directly At The Ceiling While Laying Spread Out On The Floors. His Disastrous Thoughts Stopping As The Pain Inflicted He Did Him Self Cease.

‘‘Well That Helped...’‘ He Mumbled Staring up At The Ceiling, Feeling Headache Coming Now. Making Him Whimper. He Side Eyes Taking In The Destruction Of His Room That Was Once Tidy And Cleaned Up Now A Crappy Room, Objects On the Ground Luckily Not Broken, A Hole In The Hall, The Mirror Shattered In Many Pieces. His Bed All Ruined And Bunch Other Things He did Around Him Starting To Bother Him Even More Than Before.

The Heat In The Room Has Died Down As He Tries Not Make Himself More Frustrated and Upset Not Wanting To Look Even More Pathetic Than He Is Now. A Few Minutes Pass By Consisting Of Teeth Grinding Against Each Other and Tail Thumping Against the Floor While Dew Attempts To Figure out What To do To Make Stop Feelin Like This. Want The Day To Be Over, Wanting to Fall Asleep Not Worrying About Tomorrow, Wanting To Be Cuddled and Possibly Intimate with...Someone.

Wanting to Let Go From The Day He Had Today.

To Be Embraced, Kissed, Pressed Up Against Someone As They Make Him Come Undone As They Grant Him The Pleasure He Needs. To Be In Someone’s As They Praise Him And Call Him The Most Sweetest Yet Things A Few Ghouls Had Called Him When Being Intimate.

He Wants it....No.. 

HE NEEDS IT.

He Goes Over What Ghouls He needs to Let Go With:

Aether? No He’s Out Today With Copia.

Swiss? Not After The Thing He Said Today.

Rain? Maybe But No He Spending Time With The Girls Teaching Them His New Water Techniques From A Old Book He read From. He Doesn’t Want To Interrupt Them.

That Only Leave One Person, The Gentle Yet Tall Giant Named Mountain. He Isn’t Busy Today, Mountain Been Checking On Him to Make Sure He’s Alright When Something Had Happened Today, Glancing at Dewdrop Not Noticing The Looks Dew Gives Him Back After. Appreciating the Help Dew Provides When Attending The Green House or Helping Dew Back When He Gets in trouble or Sometimes Being Bratty To Surprise Dew More. 

Dew Purrs At the Thought Of Mountain Being Bratty, Always Managing To Learn How Or What Makes Mountain Do The Things He Strangely Does In This Confusing All But Fascinating World Everything Revolves Around Of. He Hopes When He See’s Mountain He Just Doesn’t Start Bawling His Eyes, Not Wanting To Look More Worse Now Also Thinking That Mountain Might Say Something Will Make The Day Even More Worse.

‘’Breaths in, Breaths Out’’

‘’I Can Do This.’’ Dewdrop Sighs, Getting Up From Hard Floor Heading Straight Outside Leaving His Door Wide Opened, Not Caring About The State of His Room or Worrying If Someone See’s It, No the Only Thing On His Mind is

Letting Go...With Mountain By His Side Tonight.

He Marches Thru The Halls Of The Abbey, Glad No Sibling Or Ghoul Around To See The Fire Ghoul March like He’s On Mission Judging By The Way He Walks and Looks. It’s Long Way To Mountain’s Room Due to All New Things Put In Place By There Clergy, Mountain Decided To Move Rooms Due to The Lack Of Space and Of Course His Height Gaining a Bigger Bedroom In The Process That’ll Seem Fit For A King Or Queen. 

Things are Going Smoothly For the Fire Ghoul as He Gets Closer To Destination But Alas His Thoughts Are Going After Him Again.

Thoughts Becoming Stronger As he Practically Sprints Just to Get Away, His Mind Torturing, Running Even Faster Feeling His Lungs Burn Not Stopping For A Quick Break While His Own Mind Consumes Him Like A Prisoner. He Runs and Runs, Legs Hurting, Headache Pounding More, More Out of Breath, Holding on to His Goal Of Letting Go.

He Makes it.

Landing Directly In Front of Mountain’s Door, Heavy Breathing, All Sweaty, Lung Burnings. Taking The Quick Breaks He Needs In Order for this Work. He Lifts Himself Up Using The Big Pot of Flowers Right Beside Him. Standing Up, Breathing Slowly But Heavily Now He Looks Up At Door now. Too Tired Or Exhausted He’s About to Knock But One Of His Thoughts Interrupts Him.

‘‘Is This A Mistake?’‘

‘‘What If He Laughs?’‘

‘‘You Don’t Ne-’‘

‘‘Fuck it.’‘ Dewdrop Says as He Knocks On The Door Ignoring His Trouble Some Thoughts With His Horn Too Exhausted to Use His Hands From The Long Run He Just Did. He Hears Movement Coming From the Room, Drawers Being and Items Being Placed Down.

‘‘Dammit, Bus-’‘ Dew Almost Says Before Mountain Opens The Door Wearing A Fluffy Blue Robe With A Green And Red Tint Mixed In, His Hair Up In A Bun, Skin Looking Radiant As Ever. Mountain Is Like  A  Angel Who’’ll  Protect You From The Dangers If Needed.

‘‘Hello Droplet, Nice To See You.’‘ Dew Stiffens At The Old Nickname He Hadn’t Heard In A Very Long Time. He Hopes Mountain Didn’t See That But He Did.

‘‘What’s Wrong?” Mountain Questioned as He Looks At the Fire Ghoul. The Fire Ghoul Starts to Tremble As He can Feel His eyes Start to Water.

‘‘Did Your Day Ge-OOOF!’‘ Dewdrop Immediately Goes Into Mountain’s Chest Starting To Ramble And Bawl His eyes at How Everything Went Wrong and How His Mind Won’t Stop Torturing Him. Hugging Mountain Tighter, Getting His Robe Wet his Tears Crying Harder. Mountain Rubs Dew’s Head, Hugging Him letting Him Let All Out, Rubbing His Back soothingly.

‘‘i-m so-sorry’‘

‘‘Sorry, For What My Dear’‘

‘‘C-’’sniffles-Coming Here Cryi-’‘

‘‘It’s okay To Cry Dew, Let it Out.’‘

He Looks Up At Mountain, Eyes Red And Puffy he Cries More, Mountain Picks Him Up and Carries Him Shutting The Door So They Can Have Privacy.

Mountain Goes Directly to The Edge Of His Bed, Almost Placing the Distraught Ghoul Down But is Quickly Stopped By Dew Pleas.

‘‘Don’t Put M-m-Me Down Plz...’‘

‘‘Let Me Be Just Be In Your Arms...’‘

Mountain Lets Him Stay in His Arms, Sitting Down On The Edge Holding The Weeping Fire Ghoul While Moments of Sniffling and Bawling Happens.

Few Moments Go By and Dewdrop No Tears Left to Cry is Laying On Mountain’s Thigh While Mountain Pets His Head Softly Feeling Content Now And Mind A Bit Clearer Now Than Before. Mountain Rubs His Back Again Softly to Help Him a Bit. 

‘‘Better?’‘ Mountain Asked, Looking Down At Dew. 

‘‘A Little.’‘ Dew Mutters, Not Wanting to Move At this Moment’‘

They Go Like For A Few More Minutes, Dewdrop is Feeling More and More Better.

‘‘How Bad Was It Today?’‘

....

‘‘That Bad, Huh?’‘

Dewdrop Nods, Not Wanting To Speak, His Throat Raw From His Breakdown.

‘‘What Do You Need Me To Do, Dear Ember?

....

Moments Of Silence Pass

Dewdrop Looks Up at Mountain All Lovingly 

He Speaks

‘‘I Want You To Make Me Let go.’‘

‘‘How?’‘

‘‘In Your Own Way Please...’‘

Clothes Are Scattered In Matter Of Seconds, Laying On The Floor, Dewdrop Lays Bare On His Back On The Bed. Mountain Preparin Him and Himself Knowing How This Night Will go. He Doesn’t Teases Him Like He Usually Does Or Roughs Him Up, He Kisses the Tender Spots, The Scars, Feeling The Fur Against Him. Clicking there Horns Together, Tails Intertwining.

Mountain Goes Thru The Gentle Foreplay To Make This Experience More Better and Gentle as He too Wants To Let Go With Dew.

‘‘Lights On Or Off?’‘ 

‘‘On.’‘

‘‘Anything Else, Ember?’‘

‘‘No.’‘

Mountain’s On Top Looking Directly Down Dew’s Flushed Face.

‘‘Your Sure?’‘

‘‘I’m Sure...Please...’‘

Just...

‘‘What, Sweetie?’‘

‘’Make Love to Me’’

Mountain Leans Down Kissing Dew, Embracing Him as He Pushes in gently.

He Cradles Dew’s Head In His Arms.

‘’I’ll Love Too, My..

‘’Fire Lily’’.

[karmaphone]

sighs. Does anybody who knows a lot about Star Trek tech/lore wanna help me out real quick

[blacklight-ghoulette]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Ghost (Sweden Band) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dewdrop ghoul | Fire ghoul/ Aether ghoul, implied Aether/Copia Characters: Dewdrop Ghoul | Fire Ghoul, Aether Ghoul, Mountain | Earth Ghoul, Rain Ghoul | Water Ghoul, Papa Emeritus III, Papa Emeritus II, Papa Emeritus I, Papa Emeritus Zero | Papa Emeritus Nihil, Sister Imperator Additional Tags: Unbeta'ed, feelings are hard, Ghoul Lore, Angst, Whipping, Autophobia, Dew hates the cold, Anal Sex, handjob Series: Part 3 of Life Eternal Summary:

Nothing really puts things into perspective quite like nearly dying from a massive head injury. It certainly showed him that perhaps he hasn't done such a good job of things like he thought, and that there were indeed repercussions to his actions. Dewdrop just hopes he can come out of it in one piece.

(A sequel to Would You Let Me Touch Your Soul Forever?, following our dearest gremlin, Dewdrop)

[therealbluespirit]

My identity!

when aang doesn't explain everything

[v-ternus]

Dedicated to @iamthecomet, who got me back into writing. Im the anon from your box a day or so ago. Hope you love the brain rot that you've elicited.

MDNI

18+ . t!Rain and Dew first time. (cunt, pussy, cock, dick, clit for what Rain has going on, and cock/dick for Dew).

Almost 3k and I dont know how it got this long. Idek how to really tag this. Its nasty, full of yearning. Dew takes good care of our boy.

If you see a mistake, no you didnt.

-Vee

“It’s puff, puff, pass dude. Not puff and hog it”. Rain chides, sending him a jokingly accusatory look. Dew takes one more long drag before handing it to Rain and telling him to finish it off. A warm silence blooms between the two, enjoying the cool night breeze under Omega’s tree. Dew, Aether and Mountain had planted it when he retired with Terzo. After a while, Dew is the one to break the silence. 

“Why don’t we do this more often? We have the time now that tour is done. I'm sure Mountain wouldn't mind sprouting some more of the good stuff.” 

Rain doesn’t answer. He knows why they can’t do this more often. 

Being around you makes my chest cave in. I have to force my eyes shut or I would never stop looking at you. Your full belly laughs when Swiss says something dumb gets my stomach tied up in knots. The way your chest rises and falls when we’re laying out on the docks rips the breath out of my lungs. The warm stare of your pale blue eyes is blinding. I love you too much. It hurts that I can’t tell you- show you. Being around you without telling you is an unimaginable pain. 

Rain can’t bring it up. He can't risk ruining whatever they have. And besides, Dew wouldn't want him. 

“—Rain?”

Rain is yanked back from space to Dew sitting up, leaning over him. He really must've clocked out. It takes a long second for him to notice Dew’s hand right on his chest. The skin underneath it is on fire. It's too much and not enough. He wraps his own hand around Dew’s wrist and it makes sparks run through his arm. He shoots his head back and takes a deep breath. 

“I'm ok. I think I'm a little too high. You shouldn't have made me finish it” Rain tries to joke, to offer up a convincing chuckle, but fails miserably. Dew doesn't believe him. He taps Dew’s hand, asking to be let up. He leans himself against the tree and Dew follows. 

The closeness makes Rain more lightheaded than the weed. He starts rubbing the edges of his thighs, focusing on the feeling of denim against his hands. The texture is calming when he’s high. He looks over to Dew— his head against the tree, the bob of his damn Adam’s apple, the lines that make up that dumb face, the slender neck he wishes he could hold. It’s all too much. 

Before he can even register it, he’s bringing his hand up. It finds itself on the back of Dew’s neck, with his thumb caressing the skin right behind his ear. Soft. Dew shivers and his eyes shoot open. Once he realizes what he’s done, he jerks his hand back. 

I'm sorry, I don't know what that was. I'm too high. I'm sorry Dew. 

It’s all he can spit out. He’s ruined it. It's all ruined. He’s upset him. Dew doesn't want him and now Dew is angry at him. Dew grabs his wrist and Rain waits in anticipation— expecting pain or a push. Instead, he's quickly brought up to his feet by a solid tug. 

“What? Dew I—“

“Just come on Rain”

It's only a short walk to the dorms, but it feels like eternity. Rain can only register pounding in his ears and the feeling that his heart is going to beat out of his chest. They get to Dew’s room, and the door is shoved open. Dew is the first to speak 

“Are you serious?” Rain manages to find anger in the words somehow. He’s expecting the worst. The reality of the situation has sobered him up and panic is creeping in. He can’t live with Dew being angry at him.

“I'm sorry Dew, really. Can we just forget it? I’ll stay out of your way from now on. We do—“

His ramble is quickly cut off by the wind being knocked out of him. Dew, in all of his small stature, has shoved him up against the door. 

“I really hope you’re serious Rain.”

Dew’s lips find Rain’s before he can register the words. It was fast, their teeth knocking and sending the smallest cringe through both of them. But none of it mattered. Rain melts, held up by Dew and the door. His hands find purchase on Dew’s waist— fistfuls of his shirt. And he’s pulled lower, deepening the kiss. 

It's messy, hungry. It's everything he’s wanted and more. Dew is sweet— he still tastes like the weed they just smoked, earthy and floral, but underneath it is Dew. Rain swears he tastes like honey, golden amber spilling out of those sly lips which are softer than whatever Rain’s imagination could cook up. He tugs on his bottom lip as he pulls away. He can feel Dew’s gasps, hot against his cool skin when they separate to actually breathe. But it’s not enough. He needs more. 

Rain steadies himself and pushes off of the door, it makes Dew take a small step back. The small step turns into a few more as Rain keeps moving forward. Dew finds himself being pushed towards the bed. His knees hit the edge and Rain gives a final push, knocking him down. He sits himself down over Dew’s legs, placing soft kisses along his jaw, working his way down his neck. The kisses get harsher the lower he goes, he hopes they leave marks. He sucks a little too hard at the base of Dew’s neck and pulls away to a mark already forming. Dew is just as wrecked as he is– his hair is a mess, lips are a puffy red from their kisses, and breathy moans are wrung out freely. They only serve to fuel Rain on more. He licks a stripe up to his ear, biting it, worrying it between his teeth.

Dew whines. 

Rain sits back and stares at Dew— all pink with blush as he registers the noise he just made. It’s adorable, for lack of a better word. He’s wanted to see this since he was summoned. He’s wanted to see the fire ghoul wrecked for him.

“I'm serious Dew. Im more than serious.” 

Rain leans back in for a kiss and Dew is happy to let him indulge. He lets Rain pull him in closer, even though they can't physically get any closer. He lets him loom over him, as far as he’ll go. Dew reaches for the hem of Rain's shirt and gives it a tug. A silent request. The only response Rain is capable of is a quick please before Dew is pulling the shirt over him. 

Dew grabs Rain by the face, placing a soft kiss to his forehead. He continues down– his mouth, over his chin, down the column of Rain’s neck. He dips down lower, kisses his sternum, and drags his tongue back to Rain’s collar bone. His teeth graze the sensitive skin where his neck meets his shoulders and he feels Rain shake from it. Rain weaves his hands up to the nape of Dew’s neck, tugging gently at his hair.

It makes Dew bite down, not enough to break skin, but just enough to drag a moan out of the water ghoul. Rain doesn't know if he wants to push his head off or pull him in closer. Dew follows what Rain did moments before and makes a mirrored bruise at the base of his neck— reflections of one another. 

“Beautiful. So beautiful for me. My rainbow.” Dew barely spits out his praise before Rain is pulling his shirt off and pushing him onto his back. Dew fiddles with his belt, struggling to get his pants off. Rain– impatient as he is– takes it upon himself to start what Dew couldn't. He steps off of Dew to finish pulling his pants off and moves to take off his own, along with his soaked boxers that get thrown somewhere. He’s dripping desperately and is back on Dew as quickly as he was off. He lowers himself and buries his head into the mattress. He groans and drags his wet cunt over Dew’s still clothed cock. He thinks he could cum just like this– haphazardly grinding against Dew, hearing his moans right in his ear. He mutters something in the crook of Dew’s neck. 

“Louder Rainy,”. Rain doesn’t repeat himself. Instead, he props himself back up on his hands, and grinds himself down harder onto Dew. His dick catches on the fabric but Rain bites back a whimper. The drag is intense. Dew finds his hips and pulls them down just enough that a high pitched moan escapes Rain. He can feel Rain soaking through his boxers, slick just warm enough over his hardened dick that it’s maddening. 

With his head down and hair falling over his face, concealing it entirely, Rain finally lets it out, he nearly chokes on it. 

I thought you wouldn’t want me.

He sounds so wounded, ashamed. Dew brings a hand up to tuck some of Rain’s hair behind his ear, finally cradling his face. Rain leans into it with his eyes screwed shut, afraid to look at Dew. He feels so small. 

“Oh rainbow—“ Dew could almost sob. The idea that he wouldn't want Rain makes his chest tight. He’s wanted this just as much, but this is Dew. He doesn't know how to ask for what he wants. He’d rather wallow in his misery than tell Rain all that he’s been thinking- afraid of the same rejection. Afraid of driving him away.

Dew runs his thumb along Rain’s lip, trying to think of ways to comfort him, to calm his worry. 

“Rain, look at me” Dew tries to sound as comforting as possible, not wanting to give the ghoul any reason to find malice in his words. “Please look at me,”. Rain angles his head up and opens his eyes just enough for Dew to see.

“Can I show you how much I do?” 

Rain chokes on his own breath. Dew flips them over, running his hand down Rain’s side. It leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake but he needs more. He wants to give Rain anything, everything. 

Dew runs his thumb over Rain’s hip, inches away from where he really wants him. It makes Rain throb, he’s getting wetter the longer Dew makes him wait. “Dew… please. I can’t do it anymore, please,” 

Dew gives a comforting squeeze right as he brings his hand down to Rain slick pussy. Dragging his fingers up and down his slit, he feels Rain get impossibly wetter. He slips a finger in and feels Rain clench and flutter around his digit. Dew wishes it was his cock. His wish makes him realize that he unfortunately still has his underwear on– that’ll change soon enough.

 “All this for me Rainy? You’ve got yourself all wet for me?” Dew punctuates his question by slipping another finger in. The stretch has Rain rutting against his hand, desperate. Dew makes the mistake of looking back at Rain’s face– lip caught between his teeth as he tries to hold back his noises, his palms dug into his eyes from the overwhelming pleasure as Dew works him open. Dew kisses under his jaw before readjusting himself, lowering himself to rest between Rain’s thighs. He pulls his fingers out and watches Rain’s cunt clench around nothing. Rain opens his mouth to voice his disappointment but is quickly silenced by Dew licking a long drag from his hole up to his cock. Rain’s back arches off of the bed. 

“Be good and let me hear you,” Dew gets his lips around Rain’s stiff little dick, sucking softly at first, testing him. Dew dips down again, lapping at Rain’s pussy before bringing his mouth back to his throbbing dick. He holds it in his mouth, he can feel how heavy he is against his tongue. Rain can only mewl, a litany of please and don't stop flowing from his mouth. His brain feels like it’s melting out of his ears with the way Dew is eating him out.

Dew slips his fingers back in and tongues at the underside of his cock. He feels more slick gush out, pooling in his palm and dripping down to soak the bed underneath them. His fingers curl and feel around, searching. Dew knows he’s found it when Rain’s legs clamp around his head, spasming from the pleasure. It makes Rain see white. Everything is driving him towards the edge, but this isn't how he wants it to end.

Rain reaches down and grabs under Dew’s chin. He brings him up and meets his lips and Dew removes his hand so he can steady himself. You wont be empty for long.

Dew hums and licks into his mouth, sharing the heady taste of his slick. Rain cradles his neck pulling him down further, he can feel Dew’s thrumming pulse. He drags a hand down, pausing over Dew’s pounding heart. Mine. He doesnt now where the courage came from, but Dew quickly ducks his head by Rain’s ear and whispers it back. “Yours, raindrop. Whenever you want. Forever.” It's a promise he makes as he roll his hips into Rain’s thigh. Rain ignores it for now and decides to drag a little lower to the silver rings adorning Dew’s chest. He tugs lightly, it earns him a gasp. He keeps thumbing at the reddening nub, toying with it. Dew moves back in to get his lips on Rain’s, to drown himself in his taste. Rain's hand reaches further, moving past the band of Dew’s boxers. 

He finally gets a hand around Dew’s cock and all he can feel is Dew shaking with anticipation. He’s hot, burning even, and heavy in Rain’s hand. Rain runs his hand down the length, giving a gentle squeeze to the base. Dew isn't quiet like Rain, not ever. So Rain touching him has him groaning into Rain’s shoulder. Rain brings his hand back up to swipe over the head and he feels Dew stiffen. 

“Take them off Dew,” Dew huffs and all but throws himself off of Rain, quickly pulling off his ruined boxers and throwing them towards the edge of the bed. Dew goes back in for a kiss, and Rain gets his hand back on his cock- twisting around the head. Dew is practically leaking, remnants of his water ghoul days. Rain drags his hand back down, spreading his pre over his length. Dew is larger than he expected, Rain feels a tinge of worry that he might not fit. Everyone thinks the small ghoul would be proportional, but they couldn't be more wrong in this division. 

“I need you Dew. Please fuck me,” Who is Dew to deny his pretty little siren? He centers himself between Rain’s legs, pushing his legs open wider. His pussy on display. He ruts his cock through Rain's wet folds, making sure to drag his head over Rain’s clit. Rain shakes with Dew’s little movements. He wraps his legs around Dew's torso and Dew picks up on the cue, finally lining himself up. 

He eases the blunt head in, hoping Rain is adjusting enough. By the sounds he’s making, Dew knows everything is fine. He slowly pushes in inch by inch, but the stretch is still enough to have Rain choking on his own breath. Dew leans down, “Almost there baby, just breathe. Such a good boy for me. You’re taking me so well.” His words make Rain dig his heels in and it forces his cock in to the hilt. The stretch is sudden, and it's harder for Rain to adjust, but he can only think of how Dew is reaching into him. Perfect. They fit together perfectly, molded for each other.

Dew starts with shallow thrusts, inching in and out. He wants Rain to feel it all. His thrusts get faster, more desperate, almost pulling out entirely before carving himself back in. Rain swears he can feel him in his stomach, with each thrust knocking a quick moan out of him. Rain starts meeting his thrusts, rocking his hips perfectly. Every thrust hits his G-spot and has him seeing stars. Dew brings his hand down, swiping his thumb over Rain’s cock. His eyes drag down to where they meet, where Dew is gliding into him. Rain feels his cock twitch in him. The lewd sounds of skin against skin fill the room. 

The speechless noise is interrupted by Rain. “Can I ask for something… please?” 

Anything Rainy, anything you want. 

He reaches down for Dew’s hand, dragging it up. Both of their hands rest around his neck and he squeezes Dew’s down against the sides, right under his humming pulse. Dew realizes what he wants and is dumbfounded, he thinks he’s dreaming, but quickly indulges Rain. He squeezes a little harder, and watches as the water ghoul’s eyes roll into the back of his head. Dew feels him clamp down harder on his cock. The tight and wet grip Rain has on him has him right on the edge. Rain taps his hand and Dew loosens his grip. “So good Dew, fuck– its so good.”

His thrusts turn into grinding his cock deeper into Rain, he manages to reach further and further with each roll of his hips. Dew tightens his grip again, just to feel Rain flutter around him.

“Close Rain, please... together?” Rain gives him a quick nod before reaching down to tug at his neglected clit. Dew steadies his hand on Rain’s neck for just a little while longer, just until his thrusts become a little less coordinated. Then he squeezes harshly, “Ive got you Rain, cum for me.” The gentle words prove to be his undoing, he goes rigid against Dew, cumming as he keeps fucking into him.

Feeling the coil tighten further, Dew is sent over the edge by Rain pulsing around him. He spills deep inside Rain as his aftershocks continue to wring him dry. He sags against Rain and wraps his arms against his waist, both of them sticky with sweat. Rain feels like a live wire against Dew.

He would be content to just lay like this for forever, listening to Rain’s heart as he comes down from his own orgasm, feeling his body against his. But he knows that they need to get cleaned up- especially Rain. 

They bask in each others after glow just for awhile longer, feeling each others breath even out. Dew is the first to find his voice,

“I wish you would’ve said something sooner,”

Rain places a kiss against Dew’s hair, and squeezes him closer. “Me too wildfire, me too.” 

[wileycap]

Crackfic Idea:

30-year-old Zuko gets randomly flung back in time to his 16-year-old self. For a couple of hours at a time. At the most random times imaginable. Imagine the potential.

Zuko assumes that it's a dream or a vision, but definitely not real. He tries not to freak everybody out too badly, but he's also fully enjoying himself and seeing all of his friends as their young selves.

ZUKO, as he and Aang circle each other at the South Pole: I've spent years preparing for this encounter. Training, meditating. You're just a [Spirit Shwoop Sound] ... baby Aang!

AANG, confused: Well, more like preteen Aang. How do you know my name?

ZUKO, looking around: Wait, where are we?

AANG: Um... this is the-

SOKKA: Don't answer him! He's trying to get information out of you. You can't give away our location!

KATARA: Sokka, he's standing in the middle of our village. I think he knows.

ZUKO: We're here? This is so weird. I was just here for the Annual Penguin Race.

AANG: THERE'S AN ANNUAL PENGUIN RACE?!

ZUKO: Well, yeah, it was your idea... you gave a whole speech about cross-cultural cooperation and friendship, but I know you just wanted to go penguin sledding with a bunch of people...

AANG: Well, I-

SOKKA: Stop giving him more information! He already knows about the penguins!

Everybody else is confused, bewildered and even befuddled except for Iroh, who assumes that it's Spirit Shenanigans™️ and just fully accepts that his nephew likes tea and hugs and Pai Sho sometimes while being his usual shouty surly traumaball self at others.

ZUKO, stepping into the cabin: Hi, Uncle. I brought you some ginseng. How about a game of Pai Sho?

IROH, tearing up a little: I would love that, my nephew.

ZUKO: I wish we could do this more often, but you live so far away...

IROH, mentally calculating that he lives exactly three doors away from Zuko, and nodding sagely: The rat-viper may never climb the mountain that a hog-monkey can, but the monkey does not know what lies underneath it.

ZUKO, sighing sadly: I know, Uncle. I do appreciate my position in life, even if it has disadvantages.

IROH: Hmm. Your move, nephew.

The crew of Zuko's ship is terrified by the fact that whenever it happens, Zuko is somehow even more hyper-competent, seems to be weirdly calm about everything, and most unnervingly of all, he's polite.

SOLDIER: Here is a report on the best teahouses within three days travel of our current location, Sir. And, uh, Commander Zhao sent a messenger hawk.

ZUKO: Excellent. Thank you very much, Sergeant. I think we can ignore whatever Zhao has to say. In reply, I want you to send him a list of the most famous officers in Fire Nation history, and point out that none of them had sideburns. I want to see if he shaves them.

SOLDIER, sweating nervously: O-of course, Sir.

As a matter of fact, the whole fic could just be Zuko trolling Zhao. It would be glorious.

[prythianpages]

Hopelessly Devoted | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader x Azriel | You're hopelessly devoted to Azriel, suspecting he’s your true love. Meanwhile, Eris is hopelessly longing after you. aka Eris being your mate but you're too infatuated with Az to notice.

warnings: slight angst, reader being a bit delulu

*also disclaimer that I am no expert in astrology and my knowledge is usually what I gathered from friends or tiktok so if I'm wrong, please correct me but do it nicely pls bc I am sensitive lol*

a/n: I wasn't sure whether to include Az or not in the pairing but I liked the idea of leaving this fic up to your interpretation. Anyway, happy reading! <3

As you entered the Night Court’s observatory, you traced your fingers along the edge of the great celestial map laid before you. You could feel the soft hum of magic beneath your fingertips, still smell the faintest hint of sage–a remnant of your father’s last ritual here. For centuries, your father has served as the Night Court’s astrologer. He’s guided and advised High Lord Rhysand and on occasion, Keir, the steward of the Court of Nightmares.

Above you, constellations and planets danced across the domed ceiling, the stars gleaming as though they were ready to whisper secrets just for you. You took a deep breath, centering yourself, and placed a palm flat against the massive zodiac wheel etched onto the floor. It began to glow, a warm golden light tracing symbols of the zodiacs and planets.

“Stars above and stars below, reveal the path I seek to know,” you quietly murmured.

The markings on the wheel shifted in response, aligning and realigning with clicking sounds, the warm golden light following. Then, your own chart had appeared, shimmering above you. It was a translucent web of stars and planets connected by silvery lines. You’ve read your birth chart many times, become so familiar with it that you knew it by heart even.

But tonight, you needed the extra reassurance. So you looked up, watching as the planets moved slowly. Your heartbeat a little faster as you spotted Jupiter making transit through your seventh house. The promise of growth, abundance, luck and most important of all, love filled the air. 

You slipped a small vial from the hidden pocket of your cobalt blue dress. The words Love Potion No.9 gleamed on the glass, the dark red liquid swirling. It was the enchanted perfume you’d bought from a witch last week—a little love potion designed to make you irresistibly alluring to your soulmate.

You felt a bit foolish, seeking a witch for guidance on love of all matters. Witches were frowned upon in the Court of Nightmares, after all. But impatience had finally nudged you to venture beyond the court’s dark mountain and into the surrounding forests, in search of someone who could help.

“Seek the one who walks between light and shadow with a mask of cool indifference, where fire meets the edge of night. There your heart shall find its match,” she had told you as she handed you the enchanted perfume.

Her words had only confirmed what you had been suspecting for years, centuries even.

Azriel was your soulmate. 

Azriel, the very embodiment of cool indifference, wore a mask of stoicism in the Court of Nightmares, just as High Lord Rhysand did. But his hazel eyes always seemed to burn with a hidden fire. And when you were alone with him, away from the cold nobility of the Night Court, Azriel would let that mask slip, revealing a kinder side that laughed and smiled with you. He was your friend and not only did he literally walk among shadows, he wielded them. It had to be him!

And then, there was your birth chart. Your seventh house lay in Taurus—a sign ruled by Venus. With Venus positioned in your twelfth house, everything pointed to the idea that your future soulmate would bring your happiness and pleasure. And since you met Azriel all those years ago during a counseling your father led, happiness had been an emotion you'd grown more familiar with.

The stars couldn’t have given you a clearer message!

**

There was a flutter in your stomach as you approached Azriel. The two of you had been stealing glances at one another, as you usually did anytime you found yourselves in the same place. He looked as beautiful as ever. As dreamy as ever. 

Though your High Lord and High Lady had moved to the center of the ballroom for a dance, he had stayed by the dais. “Hello,” you greeted him with a small smile.

Azriel turned to you, that mask of his slipping for just a brief moment to smile back at you. He took the extra wine glass in your hold, murmuring a small thanks. He turned his head back to the dance floor, attentive to his High Lady’s whereabouts. But he shifted closer to you, the coolness of his shadows caressing your bare arm and you couldn’t help but wonder if the perfume was working.

“You look nice,” he commented.

“Thanks.” A blush rose to your cheeks. You’d taken care to match your dress to the exact shade of his siphons. And he noticed. “So do you.”

“I wear this all the time.” Azriel replied drily, referring to his usual Illyrian leathers.

“Yeah, I know.” You cursed yourself inwardly for the awkward response, then shifted closer, leaning toward him. “Do I smell to you?”

Azriel paused, his shadows brushing close, as if curious themselves. “No,” he said after a moment.

“Oh.” Disappointment seeped into your voice despite your best efforts, and his gaze shifted to you, a hint of a frown in his brows.

“Do you want to smell?”

There’s a teasing edge to his tone, a subtle quirk of his lips. You shook your head, letting out a small, nervous laugh. "No. I just wanted to know if I smelled any…different…,” and then, in a much quieter tone, you murmured, “to you.”

Azriel considered your words. He looked to you in what seemed like permission. You gave a nod of your head and he leaned in, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “You smell the same to me.” At the breath you let out, he quickly added: “which is good by the way. You smell nice.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile, albeit a bit awkwardly, the flutter you had felt in your stomach earlier twisting into a knot. 

“Y/n, is everything alright?” Azriel asked softly.

“Yeah, I just thought—” You stopped, not sure how to explain without sounding foolish. It wasn’t like you could admit to feeling disappointed over the lack of reaction from an enchanted perfume you’d spent quite a fortune on. Especially when he was the sole purpose for it. Had the witch scammed you?

Azriel waited for you patiently, concern flashing in his eyes. Maybe the perfume hadn’t worked, but the stars and planets had never led you astray. That still had to mean something, right? 

“I’m fine.” You finally said.

“Are you sure?”

The way he was looking at you had warmth creeping up your neck and settling deeper in your cheeks. “Yeah.”

A single shadow curled around Azriel’s ear and in the blink of an eye, his head turned. Your gaze followed his, to where Rhysand and Feyre were standing. Rhysand sent him a slight nod and with a sigh, Azriel returned it.

“Sorry, I have to go.” Azriel said, quickly downing the remaining wine from his glass.

You held out your hand, offering to take it for him.

“Thank you. I’ll be back. Don’t have too much fun without me, alright?”

“I’ll try not to,” you replied.

You watched Azriel disappear into his shadows before turning away from the dais and making your way to the refreshments table. You were eager for a refill on your glass. Perhaps a little more wine would help ease the sting of disappointment. But he’d said he’d be back, hadn’t he?

As you scanned the room, you noticed your father in conversation with one of Keir’s sons and your mother eyeing potential suitors for your older brother. As an elite warrior of the Darkbringers, he had no shortage of admirers, and it was only a matter of time before your mother secured him a match—perfect or not.

You suspected you’d be next on her matchmaking list, so you busied yourself with small talk among familiar ladies. Conversations were always a mind-numbing, the ladies your age exchanging beauty tips that centered around the male’s eye or fawning over this season’s most eligible males. Which this season just so happens to be your brother. Gross. If only they knew him the way you did….

Second to him was Bret—or some equally uninspiring name. A Scorpio, of all things, which clashed miserably with your chart. Not that it mattered. You had no interest in any noble of the Court of Nightmares. Or any male here. Most, if not all, were cruel and narcissists, only viewing females as child bearers and nothing more. 

There was a reason why this court was burdened with the title “Nightmares.”  And to marry someone from here would mean never waking up from this darkness. No stars to light your night skies, only endless shadow and despair.

So, you’d taken fate into your own hands. You’d turned to your birth chart, hoping the stars would lead you somewhere beyond Hewn City, beyond this never-ending nightmare. And they had. They led you to believe it was Azriel. Azriel, who was not only honorable and single but also, technically, part of the Court of Dreams. He’d been your friend for centuries, seeing you for who you are rather than an object or prize like most males here. 

As you sneak away from the conversation, you bump into something–someone. Behind you, a deep voice huffed a low, mocking chuckle. “Easy there, librarian.” 

You could recognize that voice anywhere, could recognize the heat radiating from him. It pressed down on you, leaving you simmering with irritation.

“I’m a libra, not a librarian.” You bit out. It hasn’t even been a minute and already you were exhausted by the searing presence behind you. “And besides, to you, it’s Lady Y/N.”

When you turned, you found Eris looming over you. His amber eyes gleamed with a familiar, infuriating mischief. He gave you that signature smirk of his, the one that made his sharp features all the more arrogant. “Such a harsh tone. Hardly fitting for a Lady.”

Your gaze hardened into a glare, only to have it stray toward a movement across the ballroom.  A flicker of shadow caught your attention, and your heart gave a small, hopeful jump as your gaze softened. There he was—Azriel.

He had returned to the ballroom…but he hadn’t returned to you…

Eris raised a glass to his lips, amber eyes flicking lazily between you and Azriel. “Disappointment doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m not disappointed.” You muttered hastily.

He gave a scoff, his smirk widening with dark amusement. “Please. I can practically feel it.”

“Liar,” you shot back. 

“Azriel said he’d find me again and unlike you, he’s a male of his word,” you continued, not sure why you were telling Eris this. “He’s…”

Your words trailed off as you watched Azriel, who stood next to Nesta and Elain. He laughed–actually laughed!-- at something Elain had said, shadows absent from his frame as his focus remained solely on her. You couldn’t miss the soft smile playing on his lips, nor the warmth in his gaze. Did he do that with every female he knew? You thought he reserved that just for you…

The bubble in your chest slowly deflated.

“Keep dreaming,” Eris huffed out. He seemed to take special pleasure in your reaction. It prompted your cheeks to flush but this time, with irritation.

“Oh, go away, you prick,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?" he replied, leaning closer, his sharp gaze burning into you. You missed the flash of longing in his amber eyes, too focused on Azriel. Or the way the words that had been on the tip of his tongue faltered as your scent suddenly overwhelmed him, his breath hitching slightly.

 "You smell.”

“Gee, thanks,” you mumbled absently.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice gruff and pupils flaring. “You smell different tonight…good...”

You blinked, barely processing his words. Was he actually being nice to you? In all the years you’ve known him, he’s always had snark remark after snark remark for you. The way it would roll smoothly off his tongue always left you wondering if he’d rehearse them for his visits to the Court of Nightmares. 

You fidgeted, fingers grazing your wine glass as you cast a hesitant glance back at Azriel. Your chest tightened as he remained engrossed in conversation with Elain. Turn around, please. But he hadn’t even looked your way once. 

Eris stepped in front of you, drawing your attention back to him. His gaze roamed over you, your dress. He took in the shade and he knew why you had chosen it–and for whom.  "You know," he said, his gaze lingering on your face.  "Red suits you far better.”

“And there he is, you’re back…”

"I’m serious. This—" He gestured to your gown with a slight grimace, his fingers brushing the silk fabric in disappointment. "This color washes you out. Red would bring out the color of your eyes…”

Your jaw clenched but you remained silent, refusing to admit that his words stirred something within you. Eris was insufferable, arrogant, and yet you couldn't deny his eye for detail. He, after all, was always dressed impeccably in the finest Autumn attire. But you would never give him the satisfaction of admitting he might be right.

His smirk widened, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Do you want to know another thing?”

“No,” you said immediately.

But he leaned in anyway, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re hopelessly devoted to a male who doesn’t even look your way.”

Your mouth opened, brows furrowing in protest, but he went on. His smirk softened, fading into a half-smile. One that didn’t reach his eyes, dimming the fire that usually burned so brightly there. And then, in a much quieter, reluctant tone, he murmured, “And I am no different, it seems.”

"But…" You stammered, resisting the urge to steal another glance at Azriel. "He does look my way…sometimes.”

Eris’s smile faded, his expression tightening. A flicker of pain crossed his face. So brief, you almost thought you imagined it.  "You’re delusional.”

“And you’re insufferable.” You scoffed, heart pounding.

“Better than being a fool.” 

The mocking tone was there but the usual sharpness had been softened by a strange, subtle sadness. Was this… pity?

You swallowed, lifting your chin defiantly. “The stars wouldn’t lie to me,” you said, though the conviction in your voice wavered. “He’s the one for me.”`

You met his eyes then and Eris held your gaze. His amber eyes warm and molten, the intensity of his stare prickling at your skin. An unsettling flutter erupted in your stomach, rising to your chest. A feeling you quickly dismissed when you felt something cool brush against your arm.

“Is he bothering you, y/n?”

Eris scoffed at the sudden presence beside you. It sickened him to see that sweet, adoring look on your face, the triumphant gleam in your eyes as you looked up at Azriel. The sight made Eris grit his teeth. His instincts roared at him, the fire in his veins was scorching.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze, realizing both males were waiting for your answer. “No,” you said but the way you shifted to stand behind Azriel said otherwise.

Azriel’s gaze hardened as he looked toward Eris. “Stay away from her,” he seethed.

A low growl rumbled from Eris’s chest as he took a step forward, his amber eyes flaring with rage. Though not as tall as Azriel, he seemed to tower over him at this moment. His teeth flashed as his lips curled into a snarl. “I do not take orders from bastards like you.”

Azriel’s wings tensed, threatening to unfurl and the movement of his shadows quickened. Like a storm ready to unfold. But before it could, you placed a hand on his arm. Right over one of his glowing siphons that seemed to be growing hotter and hotter, daring to match the fire coursing through Eris’s veins.

“Az, don’t,” you told him gently, not wanting to draw any attention to the three of you. You felt his muscles ease under your touch, his shadows brushing over your hand in agreement.

Eris’s gaze dropped to your hand on Azriel’s arm, his expression darkening into something unreadable. He exhaled sharply, turning his head as though trying to shake off whatever thought had crossed his mind.

When he looked back, his features had shifted into his usual cool mask, that infuriating smirk sliding back into place. He looked right at you.

“When you wake up from this deranged dream of yours, come find me.”

You watched him, feeling a strange, unwelcome tug in your chest as he turned to leave. Perhaps, one day you’d realize that the enchanted perfume you had bought was not a scam. 

And that the male you searched through the stars and planets for was not the one standing beside you, but the one who’d just walked away.

a/n: sorry if you're not a libra, I just thought it'd be funny for Eris to purposely say reader's sign wrong as he knows astrology is a huge influence on her.

[series masterlist]

[Eris masterlist]

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits15, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

[wosofutbolfan]

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

8.5k Fluff, Fun, Minor Angst

Hi Guys,

This is pt4. in the 'I Would Climb Every Mountain With You" otherwise known as Explorer!R Universe. TW: description of killing an animal.

Highly recommend you read those 3 first, as this is entrenched in lore. Pt 1 can be found here.

It's developed from an ask I received from @karsonromanoff so thank you so much for the idea! I hope I did it justice and I'm sorry for the delay and the words. ha.

This is the first time I've written since my dad died. I'm not being emo or heavy about it but I am asking to please, be kind. I know there's nice people out there but often they're drowned out by the loud haters.

So throw us a comment, like or reblog if you enjoyed. I'm just trying to get back into something that brought me joy. I know I enjoyed writing it.

Also, may be weird for a fic about a spanish gay footballer, but you probably need a good working knowledge of Bear Grylls to understand 80% of this. ha.

As has become tradition, here's the song running though my head when writing! Yes, my music taste remains to be that of someone born in 1962. God love Helen Reddy.

“Vamos Ale! I don’t like to make Miguel wait…” you shout from the kitchen, bag resting on the countertop as you try to fix your bracelet with your left hand,

“Deja de preocuparte, a él no le importa, I will be one minute…” you head called back from the bedroom where your wife had been getting dressed for 2 hours now.

Yes.

Your wife.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe it.

Sometimes the weight of the band on your finger catches you by surprise and you’d remember.

Sometimes Alexia would place her hand on your bare thigh and you could feel the cool metal on your skin and you’d remember.

Sometimes you’d get called “Mrs Putellas” at a school talk, or at the Doctors, and you’d remember.

It felt so natural that sometimes you’d forget that you weren’t always Alexia's wife.

But now you are. And had been for almost 6 months. And married life couldn’t have suited you more.

Your wedding ring was your new favourite accessory, you never took it off.

In a fire you would save Alexia and your ring.

Maybe even your ring first.

It was embossed with the imprint of grass that Alexia has been collecting from each pitch of each game she had played in since you had met. The intricate design brought tears to your eyes as soon as you saw it. Made even worse by the inscription “’cause you are my goal”. 

You would be embarrassed if Alexia hadn’t cried like a toddler when you presented her with the ring you had made for her, which had rock from each of the 7 peaks you had scaled, as well as a granule of sand from the Dead Sea set within it. Integrated into the metal, visible but smooth to the touch. 

The inscription 'every mountain high, every valley low' on the inside of the band.

You knew you’d done good and you knew your Ale well enough to anticipate the absolute mess she would be when presented with it, ensuring you had a pocket full of tissues for the inevitable waterfall.

You weren’t wrong.

You had to assure a passing couple on the trail you had chosen that she was fine, not having a medical incident and you were definitely not mid break-up but in fact exchanging wedding bands early because you knew your fiance well enough she didn’t need her teammates to witness this much of her soft side.

Though you tried, they still saw enough on your wedding day to tease her for the last 6 months with no sign of slowing down.

Though right now your wife's behaviour was nothing but unexpected. You had agreed to attend one of Alexia's events this evening. Since getting married you had felt more of a duty to attend and make up for the years you’d left her carrying her own handbag whilst you trotted over mountains on the other side of the world. 

She insisted that you didn’t have to. Like she always did. You weren’t one for the fancy dresses and the flashing cameras. But you saw the gleam of hope in her eyes as she insisted she would be fine on her own.

You couldn’t let that sparkle dim.

Also you had to set off for a camp in a few days and you had gotten seriously stuck in the honeymoon phase meaning that an evening without your wife by your side wasn’t something you could stomach.

Not that you would admit to being so clingy.

But it wasn’t like Ale to take so long to get ready, neither of you being particularly fussy, usually she would throw on some light makeup, smack your bum whilst you ate nutella off a knife under the hob light, procrastinating getting ready until she dragged you and dropped you into the ensuite, steal a kiss and a spray of perfume, and wait for you whilst watching old football clips in the living room.

But now, as you still struggled to attach the clasp of your bracelet and you had one eye on the poor Barca driver, Miguel, waiting in your driveway, you started to grow frustrated at your wife's sudden vanity.

You smelt her perfume invading your senses as you felt her arms envelope you from behind, moving your uncoordinated left hand away and easily attaching the clasp of your bracelet for you, pressing a kiss to your neck as she did so.

“Finalmente… Let’s g-...” you spoke as you turned in her embrace, finally taking in her attire which stopped you in your tracks.

“Boobs”

You had suddenly turned into a 14 year old boy and you couldn’t explain it.

You had seen your wife naked hundreds of times.

Hundreds of fantastic times.

But here she stood looking, regal. Her hair falling lightly over her face, her dark sparkly dress with wide shoulders and only what you could describe as a boob portal you had been rendered speechless. Mouth gaping open like a fish.

“...Amor?...” you heard the delight in her voice. “Are you listening to me… my eyes are up here.” she jokingly clicked her fingers in front of your face which took you out of your breast-inspired trance.

“Ale you are so beautiful” you looked deeply into her eyes but you didn’t miss the blush rising from her neck. And you meant it. She was. Wow. 

“Do you like it?” she asked, shyly, “You don’t think it’s too much? It’s just the first event we’ve gone to together since we got married and I wanted to…”

You interrupt her but pressing a kiss to her lips, and, well, if you slipped a little tongue in there then fine. She was your wife after all.

“What? Show the world what they're missing out on? I am so proud to stand by your side, my love.” you whispered into her lips, as you toyed with her wedding band. 

You couldn’t help yourself…”and your boobs are fantastic.” 

She barked out a laugh as you leaned back into where you left off, but she took a step back, her heel clicking against the tile floor, to which you let out an annoyed grumble.

“Oi Oi, Mi Amor. What about poor Miguel, he is waiting, Si?” she teased.

“He doesn’t care… Cálla y bésame.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You took a deep breath and leaned back on your chair at the round table you found yourself at. Alexia had been pulled from your side which she had stuck to like glue all evening,  to go and present the final award of the evening which she had just done, very sexily if you do say so yourself. All confident and boob-y.

You smiled, imagining her now making small talk backstage, eyes bored but a smile plastered on her face as she tried to make her way back to your table.

Your other table-mates seemed to take the opportunity of the break in the ceremony to raid the free bar put on by the charity. Which seemed very uncharitable of them. But, as you toyed with the rim of your glass, who were you to judge?

Stomach full from a mediocre-mass produced meal and head happily fuzzy from the bubbles you had consumed you found yourself oddly satisfied as you sat here. In this conference room-turned auditorium in the middle of Barcelona, here, loudly and proudly as Alexia's wife.

Mrs Putellas.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, you felt weirdly grown-up. With your wife, your house, and your business. You blinked and missed yourself becoming so settled and for once in your life you weren’t terrified of the idea.

You saw the glint in Alexia's eye. When Irene and her wife would come round for dinner and bring their kid. She’d surrender all hostess duties and sit on the living room floor, crawling around at the beck and call of whatever imaginary game the 5 year old insisted on. You’d seen her perfect her lion roar in that very spot. It probably matched the glint in yours when you were grocery shopping and a child being pushed in a trolley would go past shoving cookies into the trolley without their Mother seeing.

Maybe, you thought, maybe it was time…

“It is you! I am so sorry to interrupt. I had to come over to introduce myself. I am such a fan…”

You glanced around, expecting Alexia to be standing over your shoulder and smiling politely at the person who had approached your table to meet her… but you were met with blank space and then you engaged your silly brain and realised the person was speaking English and looking at you and…

Oh My God.

It’s Bear Grylls.

“Oh My God. You’re Bear Grylls.” 

You let out. 

Stupidly.

Standing and thrusting your hand out like an idiot to your legitimate childhood hero.

You and your brother would watch his series for hours as children. Sat cross-legged 2 inches from the TV on your living room floor, eating up every second of his adventures. Your mum had to stop you from eating a woodlouse once in your garden because you’d seen him eat a cricket in the Amazon the evening before. Your brother smacked upside the head for trying to drink a cup of his own wee for the same reason.

Now you were a well-seasoned adventurer yourself you knew that all of that was for theatricks. 

You had spent more than 7 weeks wandering the Amazon yourself once, and not one drop of urine passed your lips. Not one 8 legged insect had you gulped down in one.

But still.

Hero.

He took your hand graciously, as you both sat back down you prepared to barrage him with questions but before you could he jumped right in…

“I have been wanting to meet you for years. But my team said you had disappeared off to Spain and couldn’t be tracked down. Please, I've been desperate to know. .. Tell me all about summiting Orjas del Salado…”

So you told him, and you asked him about his adventures, and you chatted for what could have been hours, sharing stories and advice with Bear-fucking-Grylls.

He blushed as you pointed out his for-TV tricks and you thanked him for being a portal into the wider world from your living room.

At some point you felt Alexia return, a strong hand on your shoulder. You paused your monologue about Patagonia and giddily took her hand in yours, introducing them to each other. 

Polite pleasantries exchanged you could tell she had legitimately no idea what was going on or who this middle-aged English guy at your table was, but judging from your excited eyes, she didn’t need to interrupt.

It didn’t take too long for someone from his team to pull him away for an interview with the charity. But as you stood to say your goodbyes he made an offer, “You know, me and the production company are making a special about survival in the Alps… I would love for you to be a guest star.”

You stood there like a gaping fish for a moment. “Really?” you asked, in wonder, your 7 year old self spinning around in glee in your chest. Alexia smiling up at you from her chair at the joy in your voice.

“Of course! I would be honored, it’s especially about how to survive in an Avalanche situation. Obviously, with what happened in Nepal…you are an expert in that fie…”

At that point, Alexia stopped her polite silence she had been maintaining whilst you had your moment with your childhood hero. And abruptly stood, clutching your hand hard in both of hers, stern look on her face.

“No.”

From the look on his face you gathered that this successful upper-middle class white English man had not been told no too often, and a beat of silence followed which Alexia was more than happy to fill.

“Sorry Señor Oso. She doesn’t do snow now. Thank you for the offer though.”

She said it with such finality that even you didn’t think to question it. Her mis-translation brought a smile to your face. Her hands still encompassed yours, her eyes didn’t leave his face. As though daring him to rebuff her.

He looked at you as though to confirm she could answer for you. Of course she could. But you knew this refusal wasn’t just about you, but about her also. You knew the anxiety it would cause her for you to put yourself in that situation wasn’t worth anything on this planet.

Nevermind the trauma it would dredge up for you. So obviously, you agreed.

“Sorry Mr Grylls. Not my rodeo anymore. I’ve got some contacts though who you could work with” you politely confirmed your refusal and felt Alexias hands lessen their grip on yours in relief.

“No, no, of course. Sorry. But no. I would really love for you to be involved in the series. We have an episode about promoting women in outdoor pursuits. It's still on the drawing board, but if you are interested I’ll get our people to liaise with each other!”

“That sounds amazing but… I don’t have any people for you to…”

“Don’t be silly Mi Amor” Alexia interrupts again, hand still in yours and the other expertly reaching into her clutch and pushing a card into his outstretched hand… “We have people. Please, Oso, be in touch.”

Smiling vaguely and confusedly at your wife, still clearly mildly terrified of her, he takes the card as he's dragged away by his handler. He's probably still in hearing distance as you squeal in glee and throw yourself into your wife's arms, making her spin with the momentum.

“Ale, Ale, Ale!!! Do you know who that was….” you exclaim.

She can’t help but laugh aloud at your antics, soft look on her face as she lifts you lightly off the ground to stop your spin.

“Si Mi Amor, ese era el hombre oso de la televisión. Tu favorito.” she replies with a smile on her face, speaking softly, somehow, in the middle of this event where she was the guest star, making you feel as though you were the only person in the universe.

“No.” you corrected “..eres mi favorito.” You sealed your words with a light kiss to her lips, chaste but warm.

“Ah, Si. And you have had some wine. You always get soft after wine.” she lightly rolls her eyes with affection at your gushing over her.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes as you pull her into a soft sway, your childhood hero quickly forgotten now you’re in the company of your wife.

Though the giddiness in your bones from your encounter remains.

“Si the wine.” you agree moving your lips close to her ear as you whisper, breath dancing against her cheek, your hand moves to her chest and you feel her breath falter at your closeness,

“but also your boobs.” and you quickly poke her exposed chest between her breasts before she can stop you, and you move away from her pulling her behind you as you rush off to the bar.

“Amor!” she cackles.

“Vamos Ale! A La Barra!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Estoy Muerta.”

You grumble in complaint into the chest of the warm and moving pillow that you had clearly settled on in the night.

“Shh Ale.”

“Me estoy muriendo y a mi esposa no le importa.”

“You are not dying Ale. You are hungover and over 30”, you mumble in reply, moving away from resting on her chest, the heat becoming too much for your own fuzzy brain.

“Explain to me how that is different.” she doesn’t take kindly to your light chuckle in reply, as you move your hand to cover your eyes from the sunlight starting to bleed through the curtains.

You peek an eye open and see the remnants of your previous night strewn across the bedroom floor.

You take in the glorious dress of your wifes thrown across your chest of drawers. You recall unzipping it with your mouth after making very good use of the boob portal. Much to Alexia's delight.

You had probably taken it a little bit too far at the bar. Your giddiness let your binge-drinking brit out a little too much.

You had a flash of memory at dancing on a table at a dive bar in the town centre, before being brought down by Alba who you had called and demanded come and dance the night away.

Meanwhile Alexia had been in the corner trying to drunkenly explain to Mapi a set of complicated tactics that they should try out at an additional training session in the morning.

“I thought you had scheduled extra training today Ale” you teased after taking in her pasty complexion as you rolled over and settled back down onto your, cooler, side of the bed.

“I hate you.” she replied, quite seriously, as she moulded herself against your back, taking your hand in hers and burying her face into the back of your neck.

“Of course you do, dear, it feels like it.” you tease again, wiggling yourself and making her grumble again.

You rest there for a few moments, before you’re dragged onto your back again and pulled into Alexia's embrace as she moves you around like her own personal teddy bear.

You go with the flow, quite used to your wife's clingy nature, especially when she didn't feel well.

But your silence doesn’t last two minutes before she rolls you over again, now onto your back, “Oh bloody hell, where are we going now.” you mumble, as she rests her head on your chest this time, nuzzling into your breasts.

“me estoy poniendo cómodo.” she mutters into your bosom, “allá. ahora estoy cómodo”. You run your hands through her hair, smiling down at your wife who is practically purring at the attention.

“Bebé…”, you make a noise of affirmation.

“Will you…” you know what she wants, and you know she must be feeling bad if she’s asking for attention.

“Si, my love. voy a trenzar tu cabello. One big plait or lots of little ones?”. 

“The tingly ones por favor” she mumbles into your chest. Your heart expands at her adorableness, never quite learning the English for ‘french plait’ they became known as the ‘tingly ones’ in your household, because of the feeling she would get as you plaited her wet hair after a game, hands working through her scalp. 

It brings a smile to your face and you can see the lovesick smile on hers where it is squished against your chest.

You start to section out her hair as she lies still, your ministrations slowly putting her to sleep, working methodically in the quiet morning.

Moving strand over strand in intricate braids, lightly tugging her scalp and undoing when it's not perfect and redoing, giving her an extra scratch to the soft skin behind her ear when you get there, knowing it's her most sensitive spot. Receiving a sleepy purr in satisfaction as your reward.

You hear the animals from the national park outside, feel the sun starting to warm the room around you. Her chest rising and falling against yours hypnotising you further into the moment. You’ve got grand plans, brunch and a walk along the beach in your mind, maybe a lazy afternoon swim, hold on no. Maybe a lazy afternoon skinny dip. Yeah.

That sounds good.

You’ve almost finished tying off the last plait when you are startled back into the moment by the buzzing of your wifes phone on the bedslide table.

You fight back a smile at the groan that is emitted from your fully grown-pro-athlete-wife.  It resembled that of a teenager who’d been asked to clean their room or no dessert. When she doesn’t go to make a move you nudge her shoulder.

“Ale. Ale, your phone."

“No.”

“Yes."

“No."

“C'mon Ale.” you reach across and pick the phone up. ��It could be important. It could be your secret wife wondering where you are.”

She rolls off you at your tease, throwing you a glare that resembles more of an angry kitten than anything, “It could not be, she knows where I am. I snuck out whilst you were dancing on the tables in that last bar to make plans for dinner.”

“Ah, Si of course. My mistake.”

She surges up and gives you a completely unnecessary chaste kiss, as though even the joke is too much and she has to confirm she’s kidding. The phone has stopped vibrating against the bedside table and the silence that settles over you both is welcome.

“How are you so okay? I feel like I have been run over by a truck.” she states as she rubs her face, finally sitting up to start the day.

“You are old.

“I am 2 months older than you.”

“Two, very long, months my darling.” you tap her cheek lightly as you move to get out of bed, throwing on one of her oversized t-shirts you find on the floor.

“Seria, how?” she asks again, now sprawling across the space you have vacated.

“I am English. I once did a vodka shot through my eyeball in the park. I was 14.” you state, plainley, eyebrow raised in challenge as she just looks at you, open mouthed.

“Ojalá no hubiera preguntado.” she mutters, as her phone starts to ring again.

“Ale, phone.” you say, just to annoy her.

“¡lo sé!” you hear thrown at you, as you head downstairs to set some food out for Billy-the-Goat, and make a coffee for your dying wife.

Soon after, you feel her presence behind you as you stir her coffee, turning as you feel her hands wrap around your waist and presenting her coffee and she takes it from you as though it's a ballon d’or. She takes a sip before she presses a kiss to your head.

“That was my agent.”

Your heart drops, and you can’t help the petulant whine that leaves your lips.

“No, Ale! I wanted to spend the day together. Try that new brunch place Alba told us about. Have a swim, just be together. Whatever brand needs you can wait. Tell them no, please” you finish your little monologue with a pout, and you feel a childish frustration rise as a laugh teases against her lips.  You don’t get very far when a kiss is pressed against your lips.

“Well that sounds like the perfect hangover cure Mi Amor. Do you not want me to tell you what it is before I tell them no though?” there's something in her taunt, a glint in the eye that makes you think twice as your mouth already wraps around the refusal.

You take a moment too long apparently, and she takes things into her own hands as she clutches her coffee happily and spins around, “I’ll tell them no! Don’t worry Mi Amor…” teasing lilt in her tone. Whatever the news is, it has pulled her from her hangover.

You wait a beat

Another.

“Fine, What is it!” you groan out in defeat, hands raised to the sky, Alexias t-shirt riding high on your thighs as you raise your arms.

Your wife turns and is distracted momentarily by the flesh on display. Before you cough and she remembers what she's supposed to be doing. Coy smile on her face returning.

“That was my agent…” you huff out at her drawing out the anticipation. “Or should I say our agent.” your brow furrows in confusion as she continues… “she has been contacted by a muy interesado oso.”

Realisation starts to dawn on you, memories of the previous night flashing in your mind and you can’t help the grin that forms.

“Si, Mi Amor. It turns out he really meant it. She said they were willing to offer anything to get you on. She’s getting the details now and will contact us again after our day together today to see if you are interested”.

“I am interested!” you exclaim with glee, Alexia throwing her head back in laughter.

“I know Amor, but let's let them sell it to you. You need the details. Though… I am sure it is no more dangerous than ojos de vodka.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hola, love!” you shout into your empty hallway, hands full of groceries, you shuck off your trainers, hearing them thump against the wall as you struggle into the kitchen.

Tonight was the premiere of “Man Vs Woman” , the special episode of your and Bear's adventure. After the offer was made you met with the TV production company via Zoom to go through ideas.

You pretended you didn’t know Alexia was standing just outside the door to your study, listening and clearly deciding if she thought it was too dangerous or not. At least that's what you deduced from her interrupting with a cup of tea every time a particularly hairy idea was mentioned.  

When you brought this up with her you pretended you didn't see her blush creeping up from her neck. Because you’re her wife and it was the wifely thing to do.

The concept was a really cool one. You were excited from the start. The idea was that you and Bear would both be dropped in an inhospitable environment with a map and a knife and nothing else. Neither of you would be told what type of environment but you had assurances in your contract that it wouldn’t involve snow. You had 28 days to get to the muster point. Whoever got there first won.

Simple.

Convincing Alexia it was really cool. Less simple.

“Amor what if there are animals!”

“I know how to avoid dangerous animals. And there will be a medical team on standby,”

“What if you fall and cut yourself on your knife."

“What if you get tackled and break your leg?”

“That's different. What if you lose your map and can’t find your way out and you have to live out there forever”

“I will always find my way back to you.”

“What If-”

“Ale.”

You stopped her rambling with a kiss and when you pulled away you looked deeply in her eyes.

“Que pasa I miss you too much?” eyes wide and vulnerable.

There we go. Her real source of anxiety.

You had spent more time apart than most couples but since you scaled down your travels you had fallen into a sweet domesticity you could admit was a struggle to pull yourself from. 28 days plus the week before to get to the location is longer than you’d like. But it was an adventure of a lifetime. Maybe… maybe your last adventure? The thoughts had been creeping in more and more recently.

Of early mornings chasing more than sunrises, maybe rising due to a baby's babble instead?

You’d made sure that Alexia really knew how much you’d miss her the night before you flew out. On reflection maybe you should have rested your muscles a little more before such a physically demanding month but. Be serious. Look who your wife was. 

You are not God's strongest soldier.

So, off you had gone. Competing against your childhood hero for all of womanhood. And you couldn’t lie. You loved it.

Being blindfolded and dropped in an unknown location was exhilarating. Learning the land as you went, with only a map and a knife in hand it was one of the biggest challenges of your life.

The team had made good on their promise and the tropical rainforest you were in couldn’t be further from a snowy mountain range.

You’d refused to let anything slip to Alexia in the 3 months you’d been back. Lips tightly sealed no matter what she tried. You wanted her to be surprised and watch it in real time with you. In all the games you'd attended since you had to deal with an injured Mapi yapping your ear off whilst you tried to concentrate on the game, probing for hints about if you won, what you won, where you were, if you wrestled a snake, how big was the snake you’d wrestled.

“Maria stop with the snake!” you’d finally snapped during the tense quarter final of the Queen's cup.

Which had worked.

For all of two seconds.

“What did the snake taste like?”

You’d originally planned to go home to England with Alexia to watch the premier with your family. But then a schedule mess-up in the league had meant that Ale had to play in a rescheduled game the day after the premier. It just didn’t work for her to come to England.

She insisted you still go, but you refused. You wanted to watch her game. And you knew she’d need you when the show was on. Even if she didn’t know that yet.

You started to unpack your groceries mindlessly, you’d picked some great snacks for the evenings viewing, you suddenly were hit with how suspiciously peaceful your house was, though, you were sure you’d seen Alexia's car in the drive.

“Ale! Love!, ¡Estoy en casa! Come help me unpack!” You shouted into your empty kitchen, back turned to your living room, you had a few hours before the show was on air, “I got that ice-cream you like! I know it gives you a tummy ache sometimes but don’t worry, I'll rub your tummy how you like afte…”

“Amor!”

You turned around at the panic in her voice, “Wha–”

“SURPRISE!”

Ale stood in your living area, face reddening, surrounded by her closest Barca teammates as well as Mario, his ever pregnant wife and his kids, your mum and brother as well as Eli and Alba. Everyone comically in paper party hats and some lop-sided bunting was up above your couch,

“HOPE YOU BEAT THE BEAR SNAKE!” it read, and you immediately knew who was on the decoration committee.

You jumped in surprise, dropping the ice cream and immediately ran into your mum's open arms, “Mum! You’re here!” you squealed into her neck, hiding the tears that had appeared in her presence.

“I am, love. Alexia literally wouldn’t let us refuse the flight. She pretended she didn’t understand English when we tried to at least pay for it. And you know I have a 265 day streak on duolingo but my accent must need work because she didn’t understand my Spanish.”

You pulled yourself from her neck with a wet laugh and transferred yourself into your wifes open and familiar strong arms. “Aleeee” you whined. She knew you meant thank you. And I love you. And you mean the world to me. But you were too British to do that infront of people.

“You need to stop pretending you don’t speak English when you don’t like what you hear.” you muttered without malice after placing a kiss below her ear.

“I know amor. I love you too. And your family needed to be here for your big moment! You couldn’t miss this with them because of me. And then also. Mapi happened and now we’re having a viewing party! There's a cake!”

“And Ice Cream Ale! Don’t worry, I’ve saved it! Though we don’t want your barriga to hu-” Mapi stands the space you'd just vacated holding up the abandoned and slightly battered carton of ice cream. She's stopped from her gleeful teasing by Ingrid covering her entire face with one big palm.

“We wanted to be here to support you.” Ingrid interrupted her girlfriend, addressing you kindly.

“We all did!” you hear from Alba in the back, already tucking into the buffet set up on the coffee table, paper hat skew-whiff on her head. You have never felt so loved. It was perfect.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, when are you going to tell her you’re ready for them?”

You are brought out of your daydream by Ingrid sidling up to you and addressing you with her familiar soft lilt.

“Huh?”

She doesn’t reply vocally, just nods her head towards your wife, who is currently having a very intense game of 2v2 in your garden with 2 of Marios youngest and Mapi.

The kids little legs making them toddle around after the small ball adorably, Mapi and Ale giving soft touches they would easily catch up with.

You can’t help but laugh out loud as Ale takes Mapi by surprise and takes a shot against her hard, the ball catching her bare thigh in a manner which must have left a sting much to the small Spaniard's disdain.

Her and the two kids start to chase Alexia around the garden, dramatically tackling her as she suddenly becomes some sort of football monster, rolling around and blowing raspberries on their stomachs as Mapi cheers her toddler army on from the sidelines.

You feel another knock against your arm, dislodging your hand which is supporting your head as you lean over the breakfast bar facing the garden. Lovesick looks clearly on your face, going off Ingrid's coy smile.

“You know, barn. Kids. Munchkins…”

“Yeah, Yeah I get it Ingrid…” you steal another look outside at your more-often-than-not-stern wife getting grass stains on her comfy shorts for the entertainment of your best friends' kids, suddenly you feel like being really really honest. You turn to Ingrid with a shy smile of your own, “soon.”

Her face lights up, teeth on display unable to disguise her smile. “Yeah?” she asks, before turning to look towards the garden, “Me too.”

You smile to yourself and drop your head onto the dark haired girl's shoulder, you both taking a moment to watch your partners play with the kids. The moment is ruined by your mum mussing up your hair on her way past,

“Come on Love, we need to wrangle these last-minute spaniards, it starts in 10 minutes!”

She had a point to be fair. A very chaotic 8 minutes later you practically push Eli into her seat on the couch after she tries to get another plate full of food for Mario’s wife, “¡Está llena de Eli! ella esta embarazada no tiene hambre!” you cheekily remind her, your wife looking up at you from her place on the floor with tender eyes.

“And you…” you turn your attention towards her as you make your way to your seat, “get up here.” you demand, patting the empty space next to you.

“I’m bueno down here Mi Amor, me and Bruno can watch from down here.” she insists. the 4 year old of Marios nestled on her stomach, her arms wrapped around his sleeping form where he attached himself to her after being forced back inside.

You hesitate for a moment, not watching to make a scene or be too needy in front of all your closest family and friends, but you knew that Ale would need to be within touching distance of you in the next hour. 

You’re about to make your peace with it when Mario glaces your way. You and Mario have worked together for years. Years before you met Ale and the girls.

You’ve battled more than just bears together. Weeks spent isolated in the mountains. And a bond like that means that you can communicate with just a look.

With just that glance he’s up and pulling his toddler into his own burley arms. Bruno remaining in his deep sleep through the change.

“I’ve got el monstruo Ale. Go sit with your wife."

She doesn’t need any more direction, the small interaction is subtle and missed by everyone, except your brother who sends you an exaggerated puppy dog look.

“Fuck off” you throw at him, finger in the air, quickly grabbed by Alexia, “Hey, I thought you wanted me to sit here!” she teases, sending your brother a wink.

“Stop ganging up on me…!” you’re about to protest further before you’re shushed by Mapi, of all people, sitting on the floor between Ingrid's legs who sits on the couch above her. “It's about to start!”

She has a point, a familiar British accent fills the living room, Spanish subtitles appearing on the bottom of the screen for the Spanish contingent. Bear’s voice is as dramatic as ever, long sweeping scenes fill the screen of intense jungle, a crocodile and an action shot of a snake thrown in for good measure.

“Serpiente!” Mapi shouts, pointing at the screen, before Ingrid hushes her and pulls her back against her legs. 

           “We all know by now that humans are masters of the jungle. But the unanswered question remains. Is it the King, or Queen of the Jungle? Find out tonight in Man V Woman.”

The title fills the screen with a dramatic crescendo of music. Your friends and family whooping as though it's the champions league final. Alexia barely contains her excitement next to you. You had been steadfast in your refusal to tell anyone the outcome.

The next shot is a recognisable one, the sound of trees being hacked with a machete accompanies a close up of a muddy puddle set deep in the jungle, until the water is disturbed by a ever-familiar battered boot stomping in the puddle, blaugrana laces pulled tight, as proudly as ever.

This prompts another wild round of jeering from the crowd around you as the camera pans out and reveals your full profile as Alexia places a loving kiss onto your shoulder, “That's my wife!” she shouts, proudly, making you laugh. 

Bear's voice over continues as you pull Alexia's hand into yours, half pulling her on top of you, she gives you a peculiar look, this being more PDA than you would usually allow in front of your English family, but she goes with it, too full of pride to be worried otherwise.

As the voiceover continues, highlights of your career flash across the screen to introduce you to the audience.

Mountains in Peru, Arctic Explorations, Treks across Siberia, all flash across the screen, mixed in with childhood pictures your mum must have supplied painting a picture of your career so far and your expertise in your career.

The music turns more dramatic as you shift uncomfortably, being the only one to realise in the room what's about to happen.

A picture of you smiling with Arjan at the peak of Everest, ice picks raised proudly in the air. You feel Alexia stiffen on your lap, ever so subtly. Stock footage of snow hurling down a mountain as Bear describes the avalanche you got trapped in.

He gives out stats and figures to heighten the drama… “your chance of survival drops 3% every minute you are trapped after the first 15 minutes… being trapped for 2 days… our guest star did the unthinkable…”

The room is bathed in a white light as the screen changes. Camera shaky and audio changing to the shouts and heavy breaths of whoever the body worn camera is strapped too. “Yahām̐, Yahām̐, she is here!”

The camera catches Arjan digging desperately, it's clear now the camera is strapped to a rescuer on the slopes of Everest, the TV production company having access to the footage through a sister company who were filming a documentary about altitude rescue at the time.

It shakes as the man helps dig, grunts of exertion as the spade digs desperately. A flash of colour and your snow suit is revealed, face pressed up against the rock you had found shelter near.

Arjan clears snow from your face desperately and puts his head close to yours, “She’s breathing!” he pulls you up and your hand, satellite phone frozen in place, falls from the side of your ghostly white face as the camera fades out.

The whole segment couldn’t have lasted more than 32 seconds. But it had felt like time had slowed. You could feel from her placement on you that Alexia hadn’t taken a breath. Her eyes remained wide as she stared at the screen.

There was a heaviness in the room around you. 

The voiceover continued, explaining the challenge to the audience but the silence continued. Eli glances at her daughter worriedly, every few seconds.

Just as you thought the tension couldn’t get any more intense… “That's what Alexia looks like when she visits England for Christmas and mum won’t let us put the heating on.” your brother jokes, awkwardly, a crooked smile on his boyish face. 

The room is silent, your mum hiding a smile behind a hand only you notice. He goes to speak again, probably to apologise when-

Alexias' laugh shocks even you, bubbling up from deep within her chest. She closes her eyes, a stray tear escaping at the pressure. Laugh still rumbling deep in her chest, slowly the room joins in, as though they’ve been given permission, and soon your in a choir of laughing spectators, your brother blushing deep red at the attention.

“Thank you” you mouth to him across the room, as you wrap your hands around your wife, whos body still shakes with the odd giggle.

He tips an imaginary hat at you in return.

Because he is an idiot.

The challenge begins, unhelpfully, with you throwing yourself out of a helicopter into the rainforest, “Oh Dios Mio” she mumbles, heard subtly under Mapis, “Cool!”.

You press your lips against her shoulder again and mutter into her skin; “I am here, I am warm, I am Safe.” Like a mantra, you feel her nod and grip your hand tighter.

The thing about being in the environment completely opposite to an avalanche inducing mountain range, was that it was hot. Hot and wet. The camera follows both you and Bear as you struggle through the elements seperatly, deciding when to camp down and preserve energy and when to try to gain more miles.

Bear goes hard, and Mapi looks up at you aghast as you decide to build a shelter and bunker down for seven days straight. The heat zapping any energy you had.

“What are you doing! It's a race!” she exclaims, to which you laugh and zip your mouth closed with your fingers, cocking an eyebrow at her as she eagerly looks back towards the TV like a small child.

You spend two days collecting water and, seemingly, according to Mapi, wasting time cutting palm leaves and collecting bark to make twine. Meanwhile Bear is hacking down trees, making spears out of sticks and rock and throwing himself at seemingly anything that would give him a bit of protein on the move.

You’ve ridden yourself of most of your clothing due to the heat. Smothering yourself in mud from the riverbank you were camped next to, you explain to the camera its sun-cream qualities and how it’s safer than clothing as it also protects you from dehydration. 

All the while you weave and weave and weave your leaves together, quietly, assuredly.

You explain to the camera; “I am a master weaver. My wife likes it when I plait her hair. Alot. She’s cute. Sorry Ale.” you wink at the camera as your wife groans on your lap and  her teammates start to tease her, “Amor! Why!”

“Now. Let's see how this works!”  you grin and pull up a large basket to the camera.

The screen shows you scantily dressed, boots safely on a rock in the background, in the river, moving twigs into position to make a run for the fish to swim directly into your basket.

You explain the contraception, set some bait and say your goodnights to the camera, crossing your fingers for a full basket in the morning.

Cheerful music begins as the camera fades back into your campfire, fish on a stick roasting and cooking heavenly, your muddied but smiling face coming into view.

“Bear can eat his roaches and drink his wee. I’ll be here with my fish buffet!” You joke, under your shelter, camera panning to tens of fish in your basket waiting to be smoked.

The next scene shows Bear explaining the protein benefits and the unusual flavours of a witchetty grub as he struggles against the rainstorm. 

The music begins to ramp up. Graphics on the screen showing both of your progress. Bear has made much more progress than you. But struggling physically. He’s developed a terrible case of trench foot but was still making steady progress with his machete.

You chose to travel up the river. Walking along its bed you are able to make more direct progress, but it’s more energy draining wading through water. You have, however, had a relatively strong diet over the last 3 weeks.

You’re sitting on the river bed, tending to your basket of smoked fish you’re carrying with you for energy when you suddenly remain completely stock still. Dramatic music begins. Your head raises subtly and then out of nowhere.

“Serpentine!”

A snake strikes at you from the shallows, clearly after your basket, or you, or whatever it can get its fangs in. You react quickly, crouching down to your knees, keeping a low centre of gravity to keep your balance as your right hand reaches into the shallows.

You and the snake strike at the same time, and you throw yourself to the side as you bash a jagged rock against its head.

The next scene shows you taking a mouthful of grilled snake; “Tastes like chicken!” you joke at the camera. Before popping a piece of charred snake skin into your mouth.

You feel Alexia shudder in your arms.

"I'm never kissing you again" she lies.

Mapi slowly turns around, mouth agape, gobsmacked look on her face. “Snake!” she whispers, in disbelief. “You beat a snake!” You can’t help but laugh and lean over to turn her head back to the TV.

“Told you you’d find everything out tonta.”

The map on screen shows the last day of the challenge, Bear's voice over explaining distances to the muster points, as well as geographical challenges. The screen swaps quickly between the two of you, running, climbing and swimming to where you both believed the finish line to be.

You were making good progress, as was Bear.

A close up of a Brazilian flag on the edge of a waterfall.

A close up of you throwing yourself into the river.

Bear gripping a cliff edge and heaving himself up. The camera shows the bottom of the flag pole as he pulls himself up. The camera pans up. And the flagpole is bare.

The screen changes to you.

Standing, still relatively scantily clad in your battered boots, your hiking shorts cut down to short-shorts and thin vest muddied and holey, fish blood staining your arms,holding the flag proudly up in one arm.

The room around you erupts. “She did it!” “¡Jefe de la Jungla!!!!” “I always knew!”, “She killed a snake!”. You find yourself at the bottom of a pile of bodies as Alexia's teammates celebrate in the way they know how. Which is apparently to throw themselves at you in a pile up.

“That's my wife!” Alexia chants proudly from within the pile, laughing gleefully, all earlier angst forgotten.

The screen goes blank, and the image shows you and Bear embracing, laughing as the voiceover continues; “... at least this time. It's a Queen of the jungle… or should I say. La Reina de la Jungla.” Bear quips, as Alexia groans, forever hating her nickname, and the screen cuts to black.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s hours later, many more plates of food, celebration toasts and questions from Mapi about the snake later. That you're finally in the quiet of your bedroom in your wife's arms.

Your mum and brother are set up in the spare rooms and you have all got plans to meet up with the Alexias family at the game tomorrow before going out for a meal.

Your head is settled on her chest as she plays on her phone above you, struggling to calm down from the evening's events, and as usual, struggling to sleep before a game.  You play with her wedding ring on her spare hand. Feeling the cool metal beneath against her warm skin.

You feel her swipe furiously through her phone, getting more agitated as time passes, grumbles that are not-quite words emitting from her chest.

“Hey. Love.” you sit up and pull her phone away. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” she replies, bottom lip out in a pout, pulling her phone back into her hand.

“It’s not nothing. Tell me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Alexia.” you sigh, “We aren't doing this.. What's got you so…” you look down onto her phone and see. Yourself? It's her tiktok open and you see an edit of the show being played over… “Hot Stuff? Ale. What's this?” you glance at the comments section and see a selection from seemingly anon accounts;  

‘I have never understood Alexia more’, ‘I wonder who calls who capi.’ ,‘Capi, your wife's thighs are bigger than yours’.

“Nothing!” she grabs her phone back from your grip… you arch an eyebrow at her which crumbles her resolve in 3…2…

“Fine! It's all over my TikTok.  The comments about you. The fans have made these edits. Of you! All, wet and… muscley and… nearly undressed.”

“And you…don’t… like me wet, and muscled and… naked? Cause, love, I have evidenced otherwis…”

“Shut up! Of course I do but you're mine!”

Oh. Realisation dawns on you and you can’t help but smile.

“Don’t laugh!” she grumbles. “You’re jealous….” you tease in a sing-song voice. “I am not jealous!” she insists, “It's just… tu eres mio! And these people are all looking at you”.

“I am,” you agree, with a smile. “But, love. Try being married to Alexia Putellas. Maybe you’ll keep your shirt on at games now.” you tease, making her smile and roll her eyes.

Eyes softening as you pull her phone from her grip and plug it in for her. Settling back into her chest, nuzzling against the warm skin you find there.

“I am so proud of you.” she whispers into the now dark room, placing a kiss on your head. The moment became more serious and tender.

“I love you” you reply, softly, the moment feels weighted, and you’re not sure what makes you do it. Maybe it's the adrenaline of the evening, having completed your life's ambition, or maybe it's the wine you drank.

Though, really, you know it's because of the images of your lanky wife curling herself onto the rug in the living room because Bruno had decided she was the world's best pillow again. But you can’t stop yourself.

“Ale. I want to have kids with you.”

Her hand stops its movement in your hair and she rushes over to turn the bedside lamp back on.

“Que?” she breathes out. Hands finding their place softly on your cheeks, a look of urgency in her eyes.

“I want us to have kids. Me and you. I want that with you. Is that something you’re ready for?” you whisper, eyes looking deeply into hers.

“En serio?” she asks, as though she's afraid of the answer.

You nod in response. Moving your hand to wipe away the tears that have appeared on her cheeks.

“Sí, Mi Amor. Quiero eso contigo. Mucho.”

You're both smiling too much to kiss, but you make a good go of it anyway. And as you bury yourself into your wife's arms. Hands roaming and adrenaline of a decision made rushing through your body you can't help but think.

This is the beginning of the biggest adventure of your life. 

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Yeti's Cave

Yandere Male Yeti x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, pleasurable sex, oil like precum, size difference, rut, language barrier, kidnapping, general yandere behavior Word Count: 1.1k (Took a tiny break from comms to give you guys a winter fic that I hope you will all enjoy. Not my best work, but I hope it will feed you. I am sorry I have been writing so slow lately.)

It was winter in the town of Whelm. Not too unpleasant. Rather cozy, to be perfectly honest. Curled up by the fire. But Whelm was in the valley. Winter in the northern mountains was a frigid hell that few would venture into.

But you had to. A week before cold weather had hit there was a messenger from the village on the other side of the treacherous mountains. A sickness had taken hold, they had urgent need of medicines that could only be crafted from ingredients found around the valley. But it took time to gather and collect such supplies when they were needed at such scale.

You were the apprentice to the wizened old apothecary. A seemingly ancient man who had taught you as much as he could about collecting medicinal herbs, preparing them, and administering them. Seeing as he was so old, only you could make the trip and treat the villagers past the mountain.

You managed to make it there in time. But while you were on your way back home winter kissed the region.

Caught in a flurry of stinging wind and violent snow you barely managed to make it into the relative safety of an odd smelling cave. You wrapped your coat tightly around you. Was this how you were going to go out? Trapped in a cave with limited supplies? Slowly fading into the cold in a weird smelling cave?

As it happened, no.

There was a loud rumbling growl from deep within the cave. Your eyes widened, but you told yourself it was just the wind entering the deeper reaches of your makeshift shelter and making weird noises. But then you heard it again, louder this time.

From the depths emerged a fearsome beast the likes of which you had only heard rumors of. A hulking form, rippling muscles apparent even under thick white fur, a human-like face with sharp teeth and icy blue eyes, and two curled horns atop a shaggy mane of long white hair.

Despite the cold, that got your blood flowing and your heart flowing, you were out and in the snow immediately. A possible death in the cold mountains was better than a certain death by that man-like beast.

Ikkan, the yeti who you had run from, was worried. You were an odd thing that he had never encountered before. But you clearly had no proper fur except what was on your head, and your artificial covering didn’t seem all that effective. You’d freeze out there!

And thus he made it his mission to go and retrieve you.

And he succeeded. Expeditiously.

He dragged you back, kicking and screaming, into his cave. Deeper into it. He held you down on his fur-lined bed with the hope it would warm you up. He also cuddled close, though you still struggled despite his good intentions.

Ikkan decided he would take care of you and you could be his tiny mate. He was lonely, in rut, and you’d definitely die without him to care for you during this harsh time of year. Besides, some part of you clearly wanted him to be your husband. You had entered his den that very clearly smelled of him, after all.

In an effort to calm you down he tried to communicate with you, but each harsh guttural word sounded like a threat to your ears. You were convinced he had saved you to eat you later.

He moved on to offering you food and water but you wouldn’t give up your resistance.

Maybe you were having trouble understanding that he wasn’t intending to hurt you? That he just wanted to be the best he could be for his small mate. How could he get his intent through to you? The answer was clear! He just had to give you some high quality sex! Yeti cum would keep you cozy and you’d know exactly what he wanted to do with you.

You kicked and squirmed as the large furry thing held you down and removed your clothing. His huge cock had come out of its sheath, making his plan for you exceedingly clear. You tried to kick him away but he held you still and patiently applied precum to your hole and massaged it in to lubricate your tight entrance.

Since you were so much smaller than he was he knew you’d need some special attention before slipping into you.

He added his thick saliva to the mix and eventually got to the point where he could easily slip in several fingers into your twitching little hole, making you gasp when he wiggled them around inside of you.

Ikkan knew his little human was ready. He sat on his large bed of furs and pulled you close, planting you firmly on his cock while nestling your shivering body into his warm chest. It really felt amazing. Inside and out. He was surprisingly soft and his touch warmed you quickly.

At the same time, his cock continuously exuded warm oily precum that heated you up from the inside out. He fucked away your resolve in record time. It was clear to you now that he was in no way trying to injure you. Unless you counted having your senses fucked out of you. You wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled into his cozy chest. You even began bouncing on his big cock, desperately trying to get it deeper inside you despite your earlier protests.

The yeti smirked, he knew you’d love his dick.

Ikkan was overjoyed to give his human what they wanted. He quickened the pace and went a bit harder, holding your sides as he began really fucking into you. Blush crept across your face as the two of you came together. The pair of you shivered not from cold, but from pure pleasure.

He cuddled you as you leaned on him with his slowly softening cock still in you before eventually pulling out and laying you on his bed of furs. Strangely, your body seemed to have somehow absorbed the cum and it kept you well heated without the need for your clothing.

For the moment, your brain was overstimulated and you had not fully processed what had happened. But that didn’t matter much to Ikkan, he would take the opportunity to get some food and water in you and if he noticed you becoming bratty again he would just give you some more top tier yeti cock.

You didn’t know when spring would usher in better weather. And it didn’t really matter, because no matter what happened, you would never be leaving.