#finally caved and decided to post what I have for this so far!

[itsclydebitches]

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Ted/Trent (more pairings likely as the story develops)

Rating: Teen and Up

Current Word Count: 1,712

Summary:

In a desperate attempt to save his failing marriage, multi-millionaire entrepreneur Ted Lasso moves his family to Richmond, England, the well-to-do countryside where the locals say things like "indubitably" and parties are conducted with too many, tiny forks. Ted thinks that Michelle's growing distance and his own lack of etiquette are enough to contend with, thanks, but then Henry starts talking about ghosts in their new home... Good thing his handsome writer neighbor knows what's what! Unfortunately for Trent, he was expecting Ted to run off once he realized the hauntings were real, not learn to love his ghosts. ... or him.

Chapter also below the cut!

“Boy howdy. I don’t think a thousand words is enough for that picture.”

Must be the American, Trent thought. It was no great leap in logic considering he’d never heard a drawl that thick before, not on his side of the pond and certainly not out here in the countryside. As his mother used to say, each word of the gentry should be polished like silver, with none of the three S’s working their way into a gentleman’s speech: Slurring, Slang, or Swears. Trent was pretty sure that ‘Boy howdy’ fell somewhere within tarnished territory. If his mother had ever heard that coming out of a neighbor’s mouth she would have expired on the spot, long before the cancer deigned to take her.

Imagining her horror brought a small smile to Trent’s face.

Maintaining his faux interest in the flowerbed, Trent snuck a glance at the man, one eyebrow creeping into his hair when he put a face to the voice. White, brown hair, a truly appalling mustache... though well-muscled, Trent had to admit. Put him in something other than khakis and he might actually pass for a civilized member of society, albeit one out of the American seventies. He was standing partway out of his van that he'd pulled to the side of the road, balanced on the door, using the vantage point to gaze out at their town and into the hills beyond. Trent felt a sudden, sharp pang at the look of wonder on his face. Their little pocket of the world was beautiful.

Snooty, backstabbing, and utterly cursed, but beautiful.

Ah, but he’d stared too long.

“Hey there, pal!”

The American had spotted him, waving enthusiastically despite being just a few yards away. Rather hoping there was no one else to witness this, Trent inclined his head the merest centimeter, not willing to risk his already shaky social status with anything warmer.

“Theodore Lasso,” he said, tone cool.

There was something morbidly fascinating about watching the man’s jaw unhinge, mouth gaping wide enough to catch flies. It was fascinating in the way seeing Ms. Jones’ dress tear at last year’s polo match had been fascinating, or observing Mr. Tartt get drunk enough to spill soup down his front was fascinating - banal, socially stigmatized events that induced emotion only insofar as they made you grateful you weren’t in their place. Watching the man make such a fool of himself on so little, Trent revised his assessment. No idiot could ever truly appreciate his home.

Lasso finally closed his mouth, dipping inside the van to say something to the woman beside him, a vague, child-like shape moving in the back. A second later he was bounding forward and Trent flinched slightly, keeping a hefty distance between them. If Lasso picked up on his reticence, he didn’t show it. The fool was smiling wide enough to blind a man.

“Well now, you’ve got me at a disadvantage, sir.” When Lasso looked him up and down Trent bristled. He resisted the urge to take off his glasses to fiddle with - only to realize a second later that they were still in his pocket. “I feel all wrong-footed, like a baby giraffe trying to dance the polka. I’ve heard talk of ghosts around these parts, but not psychics. Gotta admit, you’ve got the look for it.”

Trent blinked. Was that an insult? He’d heard his fair share of “ruffian”s and “degenerate”s over the years, particularly after he grew his hair out, but “psychic” was a new one. And yet... no. Lasso seemed to consider it a compliment, for what little that was worth.

“No psychic,” Trent said. He ignored the hand Lasso held out until it dropped back to his side. “Trent Crimm, novelist, and I’m far from the only person who knows your name, Mr. Lasso. Your move has been the talk of Richmond ever since the sale went through.”

“Aw, none of that now. Call em Ted!” Absolutely not. “Truth be told, only my mamma calls me ‘Mr. Lasso’ and that’s usually when I’m in some real deep trouble. Deep as the Grand Canyon. Or the Mariana Trench. I don’t actually know which of those is deeper, but I figure if you pile one on top of the other, you’ll roughly get the hole I dug after lying about my report card in the fourth grade. Metaphorical hole, I mean.” Lasso grinned. “But hey, what am I doing lecturing a real, bonafide write about metaphors, eh?”

He leaned forward to give Trent a light punch on the arm, briefly short-circuiting his thought process because the last time someone had done that was... never. Worse, the last time someone - a non-three year-old someone - had touched him was a memory so hazy that Trent feared he wouldn’t be able to summon if back if he tried. He grit his teeth against the cutting remark he wanted to let fly. His mother might not have managed much with him, but she’d instilled enough manners to keep Trent alive in these parts. Seriously though.

Was this a fucking joke?

“Indeed,” he settled on and was horrified to note that Lasso’s smile didn’t dim an iota in the face of his dismissal.

At that moment a woman stuck her head out the van window, hollering Lasso’s name. The wife, Trent presumed. The shape in the back morphed into a young boy with sandy hair, tugging impatiently on his mother’s arm. Perfect American with his perfect spouse and their perfect child, perhaps even with the other 1.5 along the way. The picture sent something curdling deep down in Trent’s stomach. Not that he expected anything else from... wherever exactly Lasso was from.

“Shoot,” Lasso said. “I’ve gotta skeedaddle. That’s Michelle,” he pointed, rather too exuberantly, “and Henry, and I’m sure they’re both eager as beavers to settle in after the trip we’ve had. You know, naps to take, snacks to eat--”

“Ghosts to meet,” Trent finished. He paused at the look on Lasso's face. “...you do believe in ghosts, don’t you?”

Once, back during his university days, Trent had stunned a group of his peers by admitting freely - and with no few snide remarks - that yes, he believed in ghosts, and yes, he had seen them, and no, this wasn’t an elaborate prank, not that he’d have ever pulled one. Something about his intellect and overall vibe seemed to suggest that he was above such fanciful nonsense. Maybe some version of Trent Crimm might have been, but what everyone seemed to forget was that he was a man enamored with research, experience, proof. Nothing was worth more to him than what he’d seen with his own eyes and you didn’t grow up in Richmond without seeing a whole hell of a lot.

Lasso didn’t look at him like Trent had gone off his rocker, so that was a mild point in the man’s favor.

“Well,” Lasso scratched at the back of his head, warm threads of gold catching the light. “I sure do believe that they should believe in themselves. But did I heed the warnings of our lovely realtor who tried to dissuade us from buying a swanky and shockingly cheap mansion because it was haunted?” He grinned. “No, sir, I did not. If any ghosts are roaming the old place, well, I figure they got there first and as the interloper, I’ll just have to learn to share. Like swimmin’ with sharks, you know? That’s their backyard.”

“You need to take this more seriously.”

Why he was attempting to warn the man off? Not only had Lasso done little to engross himself in Trent’s good graces, but allowing him to stumble into his new home unprepared would no doubt go a long way towards softening Trent’s own status in the community. His neighbors would care little about the single father recluse with a traumatized American bumbling about. Letting Lasso enter the Mannion mansion in ignorance could only serve him, surely.

However, his intentions mattered little when a pissed-off wife started striking the horn. Trent flinched at the noise and Lasso did a strange little jig, waving both hands at the van.

“Ah shoot, I’ve really stepped in it now,” he said. “But it was a real pleasure meeting you, Trent Crimm, not a psychic.”

Trent swallowed. “A pleasure... you mean that, don’t you?”

“‘Course I do. Why would I go sayin’ something if I didn’t mean it?”

Oh god. Richmond was going to eat him alive.

With a twiddle of his fingers more suited to a toddler, Lasso jogged until he was close enough to kiss Michelle on the cheek, her annoyance melting into fond exasperation. The boy, Henry, squirmed between them and started chattering about whatever boys his age were concerned with. The three made such an outlandishly perfect picture that Trent had to look away, swallowing compulsively.

Lasso wouldn’t last. Nothing bright like him lasted in Richmond. They didn’t need ghosts to see to that.

As they drove off, Lasso waving through the window, Trent let his imagination spool out in a wave. The Lassos would head straight to the Mannion Mansion where they’d find a decrepit building tinged in loneliness, a literal blanket of emotion that would turn their tidy, picture-perfect world upside down. Not, notably, for the better. After suffering the night in the company of Rupert Mannion, they’d welcome the dawn and attempt to rationalize whatever horrors had occurred. If they lasted the second night they’d no doubt start seeking solace in their neighbors. Too bad they were sandwiched between the Kents and the Tartts. In all honesty, Trent would rather deal with the ghosts.

Three days, maybe four, and then they’d be packing their bags again, unaware that they were the lucky ones, capable of escape.

With a sigh Trent started his own trudge up the hill, heading towards another afternoon of staring down at the blank page, trying to cobble together even one, readable paragraph. There were characters lurking in the back of Trent’s mind, shadowy and undefined, refusing to surface because they knew, like him, that Richmond was no place to be born to.

Oddly though, that day all his characters had the same thick accent, whispering odd turns of phrase in his ear.

[monstersflashlight]

To kill a king, to fuck a dragon (Day 8/8 of 10k followers event)

A/N: Hi there people! I’m so, so glad that all of you took time to read all the stories I post, especially these past 8 stories that had been super exploratory for me. I think I did good enough, at least y’all seemed to like it. For this last one I added a bit more plot than usual, this is a tiny bit longer and I think the story is really good. I hope y’all love it as much as I do. Also, and once again, I want to thank ALL OF YOU for following this little corner of the internet and being so supportive and great, special thanks to all my patrons to make my life a little bit easier <3, this has been a blast so far and I hop y’all keep reading, hopefully this account is just the beginning of a much longer exploration of monsterfuckery for us all. (PS: If someone catches the very subtle Grey’s anatomy reference please let me know so we can be friends)

Dragon x fem!reader || size kink, slow-burn (kinda), sex with feelings, magic saliva, spit on pussy, multiple orgasms, overstimulation || tw: mentions of murder

You enter the cave and are surprised to find a door, a normal human door caved into the rock. It looks like a house, a house on the rock, but still normal. What the fuck? Your hopes and dreams of finding the dragon slowly disappear, your eyes teary.

Someone chooses that moment to speak behind you: “Who are you?” You turn around so fast you fall to the ground with a scream. The stranger looks at you like you are a bug he needs to squeeze, and you feel a tear running down your cheek. Fuck. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry even if there wasn’t a dragon. “Again: who are you?” His tone is harsh and you want to cry even more, but you bit your tongue.

“I- I came to find the dragon,” you confess, swallowing around the knot in your throat.

He looks at you like you are a joke, not even trying to help you to your feet. “What dragon?” He asks, his tone amused.

You get up and look at him, trying to look as serious as you can when you say: “They- They told me there was a dragon here.” You fail.

He chuckles, inspecting you up and down, his eyes zeroing on the few tears that escaped your eyes. “No dragons, just me,” he finally answers, his tone a lot softer than before.

“Uh-oh… Sorry. I’ll be on my way, then.” You try to get pass him, sniffling as you do so, trying really hard to get out before you start sobbing.

He sighs, and adds: “do you want some tea?” He offers you his hand, and weirdly enough, you don’t feel threatened or scared, you feel calm around him.

“Really?” You don’t want to sound too hopeful but you are thirsty and tired and you want to cry because there is no dragon and you basically lost hope of everything.

“Yeah, come on.” He motions you to follow him inside the rock house, and you are surprised about how cozy and homey it feels inside, like out of a fairy-tale kind of thing.

He makes some tea as you lean against the door frame of the kitchen, trying to look around as much as possible without looking too snoopy about it. Not that he seems to care that you are curious about everything, he just looks at you every once in a while like making sure you are still there.

“Why were you looking for a dragon?” He asks when he sets the tea cup on the table in front of you. A similar one in front of him. You sit and start sipping on the best tea you’ve ever had.

You sip the tea for a couple seconds, trying to decide if you can trust him, at the end you decide why not, your life is already ruined. “To kill the king,” you say. He chokes on the tea he’s drinking, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop from giggling.

“What?” He asks again when he recovers, his face red from the coughing.

“To kill the king,” you repeat. He still looks stunned so you give him more context: “I- I was bought when I was in the womb. My parents promised me to him in exchange for gold, and the day we marry is approaching. I don’t want to do it, he’s a foul man, and I didn’t choose this. I overheard some servants talking about the dragon in the mountains, and I though… I thought they would help me.” You try not to sound too bitter about it, but you can’t keep the despair out of your voice.

He looks at you like you are suddenly the most interesting specimen of a bug. “You escaped the castle and came here?”

“Yes,” you answer truthfully. There was a lot more implied in that simple question. You escaped, but not only that, they are probably looking for you and the king would probably kill those guards you ran away from. You try not to be too sad about them, they were cruel with you, laughing at you every time you passed, talking about how the king got a new hot wife.

“Are they still looking for you?” He asks, a lot smarter than you give him credit for.

“Probably.” It’s the truth but it still carries a lot of pressure as you say it. You understand though, you know it’s not his problem and you shouldn’t even be there. You’d find another way to escape the king. “I’ll be out of your hair, I promise. You didn’t sing up for any of this.” You realize the sun is setting in the horizon and you don’t know if you could find your way back to the village. Fuck. “I need to go. The village is a long journey from here,” you try not to sound scared, but an edge of fear permeates your voice.

He surprises you by saying: “Stay. I have a guest bedroom and there’s no way you could get back to the village if it’s this dark.”

You want to say no, to refuse, that’s improper, but the idea of going back to that golden prison is enough to make you say: “I’ll leave first thing in the morning.” It’s a promise you do to him, but also to yourself. That man showed you more caress that anyone in your life, and you didn’t want to cause him unnecessary trouble. You’ll leave in the morning.

Problem is… You never do.

The next day he prepares breakfast, and insists on showing you around his house. It’s so beautiful you are mesmerized. His garden especially. It’s so colorful and big and calm…. You feel an instant connection to the earth, and to him. He’s so easy to be around, he treats you so differently like what you are used to. And you like it. You like it so much that you get distracted until the sun is setting once again. And he never tells you to leave.

And days pass. One day turns into another, and you… never leave. You know someday they will come back for you. You know you can’t run away from your problems. But right there, in the side of the mountain with that nice man that took you in… It feels possible to run away. It feels possible to avoid the awful destiny that was set for you before you were even born.

He teaches you to cook, to take care of plants, to polish wood… He’s like a handyman that can do all, and you are his new apprentice, even though he insists on doing all the heavy lifting. But on top of that, he just… amazing. He takes care of you, but also you two argue about stupid stuff until you are red faced and you want to hit him, just to end up laughing when he tells you a stupid joke. You have the most fun you had in ages with him.

Until one day all shifts (pun intended).

You are laying around under the tree as he does some gardening. He wouldn’t let you near the roses in case you got hurt. “I have something to tell you,” he breaks the silence.

“What?” You ask, looking directly at him, a spark of something unknown raising inside of you, like bugs in your stomach, crawling around every time you set your eyes on him, on his beautiful smile.

He looks at you intently and says the most ominous thing: “I- I think it’s better if I show you, actually.”

“Show me what? Why do you sound so serious?” You try to joke, but it doesn’t land because he still looks at you with a poker face.

He looks worried, apprehension settling on his features. “Just… Wait until I’m done to say anything, please?” His tone is more than pleading, is more like he’s begging you to understand, and you don’t know what could possibly be so bad.

“Okay…” You tell him, anxiety spiking.

And then he turns. Literally. His body contorts and cracks, and there’s a bunch of things happening at once, and before you realize, there’s a dragon in front of you. A full on real dragon. What? He’s majestic, as big as a house and skin covered in the most precious scales. He looks like a work of art… you are mesmerized.

“You said there was no dragon!” It’s the first thing out of your mouth, an edge of hysterics creeping in your tone.

You laugh then. You laugh so hard and so much you have tears rolling down your eyes. He changes back, and tries really hard to cover his manhood with his hands, failing and making you laugh even harder.

“You are a dragon,” you say when your laughter dies down.

“I am,” he says simply, approaching you slowly until he’s right in front of you. “And I will kill the king for you,” he adds.

There’s no point in asking why he didn’t tell you sooner, you understand why. Why would he? Why would he trust his deepest secret to you? But him showing you now? It meant more than the world, it made you forget about everything and anything chasing you down. It makes you happy. He makes you happy.

“No. I don’t care about the king. I just… I love you. I think what I feel is love, I never felt like this before.” You tell him, heat creeping up your cheeks. He looks at you like he’s surprised, like he wasn’t expecting that at all. “Do you feel it, too?” You ask shyly, your hand over his chest, feeling his heart beat faster and faster.

“Ye- yes. I love you, too.” His confession is followed by his hands cupping your face, so soft and tender, you feel a tear running down your cheek as he kisses you for the first time.

You should have known better than to think your life could be so perfect.

You don’t hear them before you are captured. At least four soldiers appear at the edge of the garden and catch you before you can scream. You think about him, about your dragon, and lament how confused he will be when he returns and you aren’t there. You worry he would think you abandoned him… But you can’t do anything as they take you away from the only place you felt like home.

They don’t even wait a whole day before they are dressing you and pampering you in the best silks and makeups. Nobody says anything as you silently cry during all the process. The servants looking worried but not arguing with anyone, three guards at the door of every chamber you enter.

You are caged once again.

You walk to the aisle in between a crowded place full of people who don’t like you, nor the king for the matter. They just want to appraise his old self to gain some benefits, the same as your parents did even before you were born. He looks like a nightmare standing in front of the altar, and you want to run, to run far away, back into your dragon’s arms. But you can’t, guards all around the open garden the ceremony is taking place in. You stand before your soon to be husband and have to swallow back the tears and bile, his rancid smell hitting you like a brick.

The minister starts speaking about love and marriage, and you cry during all his speech. You dream of being far away from there, as far away as possible. Or at least as close to your dragon as you could.

When you hear the people mumbling around you, you turn around, a shadow obscuring the sun. You look at the sky and sigh, so happy to see him you could cry. Maybe you would cry if you weren’t so shocked that he actually showed up.

He roars as he lands, people running in all directions, hiding in every possible place. “YOU STOLE FROM ME!” He growls, breathing fire to the sky and making people cry out in fear. You look at him in all his glory, fascinated by every inch of his skin.

“We- we saved the queen to be,” the guard’s words are short lived as your dragon looks at him and breathes fire right over his body, instantly burning him to the ground. There’s a chorus of screams and cries again, and you have to bite your tongue to stop from smiling.

“She’s not yours! SHE’S MINE!” You shiver at his words, feeling them so deep inside you think you might combust, butterflies dancing inside your stomach once again.

“You can’t take her! I bought her,” the king’s words don’t help his case at all, your dragon roaring and launching for him.

It all happens so fast, one second he’s there, and the next one the king’s head is rolling onto the ground as everyone screams and runs away. You are shocked to the core, but he doesn’t let you wallow in that. He picks you up and takes flight. You realize he’s being very careful not to pickle you with his claws. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but soon enough you are in a place you know, a place that brings you memories of joy and love… The garden.

As soon as he sets you down, he orders you to: “Go inside.” His tone is harsh, almost a growl.

“No,” you answer, not recoiling, not moving. You approach him more, your hand softly caressing the scales of his chest.

He roars over your head, trying to scare you away: “Go inside, I’m not in my right mind right now, I can’t answer for my actions.” You aren’t scared of him, though. He saved you from your most fearsome nightmare, he’s just the big monster you are in love with.

“No,” you repeat, a big smile playing on your lips when you look up at him.

“Come on, princess… Please.” Him begging in that form does something to you, such a big and scary creature asking you to go inside so he can protect you from himself… You are more sure than anything that you are safe. Safer than you’d be with anyone else. Human or monster.

“No. I want you. I love you.” Your words finally go through him, making his big body shiver, you feel it under your hands, a big shake that leaves you breathless. “Take me, my dragon.” You know adding that isn’t necessary, but you are more than ready to be a bride, to be his bride.

“Don’t joke around,” he growls, grabbing your body with his big clawed hand and positioning you to look straight into his yes, his big dragon head so beautiful you have to reach out and touch him. He scrunches his nose, making you giggle.

“Make me fully yours,” you say again.

His responding growl is so loud it makes the earth vibrate under your feet. You shiver in anticipation. He tears your wedding dress of your body, wrapping his wings around you to create a bubble, so you won’t feel a single spark of cold in your human skin.

Your wedding dress is torn off your body as he launches for your body, your naked form shivering at the cold temperature around you, but he solves that easily. He wraps his wings around your body getting you close to his much warmer scaled body. You sigh happily.

He lets you down onto the ground and you look up at him, completely vulnerable. “Fuck me. Claim me. Love me.” You lower yourself to the ground, your upper body to the ground, your ass up. You know what you must look like: an offering, a sacrifice. And you are okay with that. You are okay being his.

“You sure?” He asks again, always the gentleman, always worried about you. You are more sure of this that you were about anything else ever.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant as his claw proves your entrance. You look around in time to see him biting on his fingers, two seconds later he’s claw-less and his now not-dangerous fingers enter you. You cry out and bury your face on the mossy ground, his chuckle making you flush all over.

He plays with your pussy for what feels like an eternity, making you come twice before he starts stretching you fully. He gets to three fingers, way bigger than anything you tried before, and you can’t stop moaning.

You come again as he spits on your pussy, the sensation so filthy and so good you scream and fall over the edge again. You feel tingly all over after that, your pussy relenting under his ministrations and somehow widening further, accommodating one more of his fingers. “My saliva has magic in it,” he explains, his tone amused as he keeps finger fucking you. You don’t know if you can come again, you didn’t even know that much pleasure was possible.

“Come on, come on, please,” doesn’t matter how much you beg, he doesn’t relent.

He starts scissoring his big fingers inside of you, stretching you impossibly wide, and you squirm under him, a pleasure so big you don’t know how to deal with it, your body pliant under his actions, your brain completely void of thoughts. And then he stops and you curse him so loud he starts to laugh, moving your body and making you squirm under him. He grabs your hips to stop you from moving and you feel the tip of his cock against your entrance.

He enters you slowly, so slowly. You want to scream, but your brain is frozen with the over-sensitivity of his dick inside of you. He can’t fit inside, there’s no way, he’s probably just aiming for a third of his length, but right now, with just the tip inside, you feel like you are about to burst. You reach down and rub your clit, unlocking something inside of you and crying out so loudly he roars as your orgasm makes your pussy constrict around him. He pushes in a bit more, and you keep coming.

From that point on, it’s all a blur of sensations and emotions, so much pleasure you are blind to the world around you. His dick is barely inside, but it seems to be enough for him, and more than enough for you. You feel like he’s going to split you in two in the most amazing way. He feels so big inside of you that you think you might die if he keeps rubbing against all your special spots at once. And if you do… You’d die happy.

“Take me. Take all of me,” that’s all the heads up you get before he’s filling you, one last thrust inside before his hot seed floods your insides. It propels you over the edge one last time, the world fading into blackness.

You pass out.

When you come back to your senses, you are laying on a bed and there’s a warm body behind you. You sigh happily as he kisses your forehead and makes sure you are comfortable and warm. You feel such intense love for him in that moment, that you have to turn around and try how well it would feel to fit his human dick inside of you (this time all of him).

He feels perfect.

[euthymiya]

[ DUTIFUL, DEVOTED — FT. KAMISATO AYATO ]

SYNOPSIS: ayato falls first, unaware of the reason you’re so guarded. it’s not until you run into your former love does he realize the reason for the cold beginnings of your marriage

WORD COUNT: 2.3k words — not too long but when you consider it was meant to be a literal paragraph where i just share a concept…yeah. yeah.

INCLUDES: female wife reader ; arranged marriages ; temporary unrequited love ; reader is implied to come from an influential family ; reader has a former unnamed lover ; jealous ayato ; slightly insecure/bitter ayato ; very brief and vague smut but still 18+ minors do not interact ; mentions of fem receiving oral and fingering ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; implied multiple rounds and overstimulation ; typical references to morally gray ayato

NOTES: have to post this a second time :/ but cannot stop thinking about ayato who loses his mind realizing you’re his first love but he’s not yours

Ayato falls first. Hard.

It wasn’t ideal, the circumstances of your marriage. Your affections were hard to win—but after some rough beginnings, you slowly, surely start to form a romantic bond. He aches for you for a long, long time. To feel the warmth of your skin and the kindness in your gaze. To feel the softness of your lips and the tenderness of your care. He dreams of it most nights. And finally, when he’s earned the gift of your devotion, he falls impossibly harder.

It’s only once the two of you fall in love does he find out that you were once in love with someone else at the time of your engagement.

Your wedding happens very suddenly. Your father offers his precious jewel of a daughter as a token of your clan’s influence, all in exchange for some negotiations over the Yashiro commission affairs. Ayato knew you were intriguing at the very least since your wedding day. He can tell there’s more to you despite being seemingly obedient to your father’s wishes. It’s clear how unhappy you look with the whole affair—so he decides then and there that he’ll make you happy, treat you properly as a wife should be, show you love so that you don’t regret fulfilling your father’s wishes to join your clan with his.

But you make it difficult. For months, you make it difficult. You’re stubborn and just a little bratty when you want to be. You eat dinner before he’s arrived to your chambers after a long day of working, using it as an excuse to avoid meals with him. You’re out for strolls in the estate frequently but happen to be tired just when he has the time to spare to join you. You’re busy reading a book and happen to be at the most exciting part right when he’s free to come have a conversation with you. When you both need to make an appearance together, you’re stiff as you link arms—it’s a rare occasion as a whole, anyway, seeing as Ayato doesn’t show himself in public often, but he certainly doesn’t miss the way you seem extra on edge to be seen with him.

It’s not until the first time you witness him evade an assassination attempt do you start to shift in your demeanor. A little spooked by the blood he shows up covered in, you stay close enough to keep an eye on him for the night. Far enough away that it’s subtle, but certainly not too far. You’re softer with him from then on, a little cautious of what he does and who he trusts. Sure, you may not love your husband, but he is still the man you have vowed your loyalty too—it leaves you at a constant sense of unease to know his life is in persistent danger.

So you question where he’s off to more. You check him subtly over for injuries or tears in his robes. You slowly join him for meals sometimes and when he asks, you cave and let him accompany your strolls. Sometimes you willingly tell him about your book—you’ll lend it for him to read too, if he asks nicely. He notices you’re a little extra kind to him when he’s read your suggestions of what to read from the Yae Publishing House and can hold a discussion with you about the novels. And slowly….well, slowly, you’re prouder to be his wife. Happy, even.

Dare you say you’ve even fallen in love.

It’s not until you run into your old lover in the markets on a rare day off with Ayato does it become clear to him why you were so distant in the earlier days of your marriage. Why you were so unhappy to be wed to him. Why he couldn’t seem to earn your companionship let alone your affections. The man breathes your name, a touch too fond with a concerning amount of longing in his voice that makes Ayato stiffen. And your face says it all—the melancholic regret written all over it.

You pause. Linger your gaze over the man’s face for a moment before murmuring, “I trust you’ve been taking care? It was lovely to see you—I’ll be off, now.” Ayato doesn’t like the way your eyes hesitate for a moment before it pulls away from this mystery man. There’s a sadness to your pupils as you stare down at your feet, fingers gripping his hand tighter as you drag Ayato along.

“Who was that?” He asks.

“Oh, just someone I used to know,” you whisper.

He doesn’t like the vagueness of that answer. And more than that, he doesn’t like the sad, far away and guilt-ridden look on your face for days to come. Sometimes, at night, he can feel you tossing and turning beside him as you can’t seem to sleep. He stays carefully still, trying not to alert you that he’s awake when you inevitably cup his cheek and press a long, lingering kiss to his forehead—almost like it’s more for yourself than for him.

Ayato is not stupid. He knows that man means something to you. Meant something to you, he has to correct his own thoughts—he knows he’s the only man in your heart now. He’ll die before he faces a reality where that is not the truth. And if he’d wanted, he’d have dug up all he could about that man by now—but he wants to hear it from you. He wants to know from your own lips and your own words that this man is not someone who owns the strings of your hearts.

“You’ve been off,” he murmurs casually one day, “Ever since that run in with that strange man. Do tell, is there something I am missing here, my love?”

“No, my lord,” you say hesitantly, “He is just…a man of my past life, that is all.”

“A friend, perhaps?” He asks, lips curling into a cunning, bitter smile.

He’s caught on. More than anything, Ayato is intelligent. Exceedingly, painfully so. It’s how he’s come as far as he has. He was a smaller, frailer child in his earlier years, someone that earned the scoffs of those around him when they’d realized this boy was meant to be an heir.

Glory had fallen from the Kamisato clan when he was just a boy. Power had consumed every corner of his estate by the time he was a young man.

He’d done it alone. Sure, he is no longer that frail nor little boy of his youth—the small arms have been replaced by muscled biceps and the tiny frame is broader and wider now. But above all, his intelligence from the shadows has carried him as far as it has.

And he’s smart—he knows his wife and her tells. Ayato knows how you look when you’re in love. You look at him that way—he can tell there are shattered fragments of a broken love still littered on the tiles of your past.

“You could say that,” you say carefully. “We…knew each other well.”

“Do you wish to scare me?” He chuckles. Dry. Humorless. Almost acrid tasting on his tongue. His laugh is anything but joyful. “It almost feels like I should compete for your heart.”

“Don’t say that, Ayato,” you huff. Your fingers tremble a little when they grasp at his, linking them delicately as you give his hand a squeeze. “I am a dutiful wife, am I not?”

“Dutiful is not always the same as devoted,” he murmurs.

“Oh?” You quirk an amused brow, “Do I not seem as though I am devoted to you?”

“You have been off,” he repeats. His voice is a touch more vulnerable now. Something Ayato does not know how to be—but if there is one thing his father has left with him before passing, it is that love is not pursued from the safety of shadows and strength. It is best pursued on your knees, where you are weak and susceptible to pain. “Ever since you have run into him. Any husband would be rightfully worried at such a discouraging sign.”

“My husband has nothing to worry about,” you whisper. You mean it.

That much, he can tell—but it’s not enough.

“Tell me who he was,” he demands softly, “Tell me so I know what history I must rewrite.”

You laugh. It’s a fond, cherished sound. He feels his heart relax at least minimally at the melody of your joy.

“I loved him once,” you admit. The hurt on his face is palpable—raw enough that you sigh, and stroke his cheek. “Not as much as I love you now.”

"Bittersweet it is indeed," he murmurs, "to be not my wife’s first love, but the greater one. I cannot decide if I am fortunate or doomed."

“Love is a complicated thing, Ayato,” you murmur, “I feel fortunate to have loved at all. And to love the one I am wed to now.”

“He still loves you,” he all but grumbles. You don’t enjoy seeing your husband upset, but the Gods need not make him so precious when he is. You fight back a smile as you lean to press a kiss against his jaw.

“I never got to tell him of my marriage until much later. I suppose the guilt of breaking another’s heart has never quite stopped haunting me.”

“Is that why you did not like me?”

You throw him an amused look. “Who says I did not like you?”

“I could tell,” he mumbles petulantly, “I am a wise man, I shall have you know.”

“Perhaps not wise when it comes to the ladies, my lord,” you grin, cupping his cheek. Gently, you press a kiss to his forehead, leaning closer as he grips at your waist. “I did not dislike you. Ever.”

“Then why be so cold in the beginnings of our relationship?” He presses.

“I felt disloyal,” you admit. He quirks a questioning brow up at you. “I…I was troubled that my husband seemed to have charms that I was not immune to…despite being in love with another. It was conflicting, you see. I was not ready to accept that perhaps….perhaps loving you was meant to be in my nature.”

He blinks, registering your words for a moment before a smug, arrogant little smile tugs at the corners of his lips. You roll your eyes at the way he gives you a sly look.

“Ah,” he nods, “So it was my charms that drove you away? Dare I say my wife was falling much earlier than I had assumed?”

“No,” it’s your turn to grumble. “I did not like you.”

“That is not what you claimed but moments ago," he goads, shifting to loom over your body. In his gaze, hunger and desperation mingle with the faintest trace of fear as he softly declares, "I shall be your final love. It will be I, or no one at all.”

“An arrangement I find most agreeable,” you tease softly, your eyes warming with affection. “If you are to be the only man I shall love, then I count myself fortunate indeed—so long as you remain ever deserving of such devotion.”

“Shall I earn your devotion now?” He hums, hand grazing lower, lower, lower.

Your breath hitches before you whisper, “Go on, then. Earn my affections, my dear husband.”

“As you wish, my darling wife.”

He’s needy that night. Hard and leaking into his pants for quite some time as he earns your body’s approval first with his tongue and next with his fingers.

Like a good husband, he thinks—one who puts you above himself. No one will care to put you above all else the way Ayato would. He thinks Inazuma itself is not as important as you. So, like a dutiful husband, it’s not until you’ve come undone a second time does he prod the thick, warm tip of his cock into your folds.

He fucks you well, too—enough times that you’ve lost count and can’t discern much outside of the way he’s all but whimpering into your neck himself.

“Just one more,” he pleads, desperately rolling his hips into you, sweaty and quivering over your body as he buries himself deep into your cunt. “P-please, my love. Just one more.”

“Are you sure you can even handle it yourself?” You tease. It’s a silly effort, though—one more thrust of his hips as you squealing under him as your eyes roll back.

“I can handle more of you any time,” he grins smugly.

You both fall apart not long after that. His rips thrust in a quick, sloppy pace before he stills with a groan, emptying one last load into your abused cunt. You quiver around his length for what feels like eternity, coming undone around him once more.

“Ayato,” you sob, chanting his name as though it’s the only one you know. (It is. For tonight, it is.)

“My love,” he responds shakily, moaning into your neck as another wave of his orgasm pulses through his body. “Promise me you’ll love only me. I fear the lengths I would go if you shouldn’t are not pleasant.”

He slumps over you, tired. Spent. Stubbornly in love. Scarily devoted. You are the only reason he is tethered to the ounce of sanity he has.

“You are most needy when you’re envious,” you laugh, stroking his hair as he huffs into your neck, nuzzling closer. “Do keep in mind that should you love another apart from me, I shall take equally as unreasonable lengths.”

“I have vowed to you my life,” he murmurs, “Since the day I was wed to you.”

“And I have done the same,” you hum, delicately raking your nails over his back, scratching soothingly over the skin, feeling every mole that catches along the way.

“Then your friend shall be made aware of his place in your past,” he says contently.

You glance at the side of his head from the corner of your eyes, rolling them when he refuses to look up from your neck and meet your gaze. “Be nice, Ayato.”

“I only intend to drop a friendly visit,” he says innocently.

“You are anything but friendly,” you snort.

He grins before pressing a kiss into your neck, right over your pulse point. Right over the proof of your beating heart that belongs to him.

If ur ex has to move somewhere far away in inazuma and start a life where he can’t run into you so you never have to see him again…that’s got nothing to do with ayato he don’t know nothing about that!!! He’s innocent!!!

[lightasthesun]

i heard there was a HUGE outcry for more codywan fic recs...(@tapemonkey21 & @dontbelasagnax lol) so here I am posting another one

As always please mind the tags before diving headfirst into any fic you read and consider sharing your unbridled joy and unhinged thoughts with the writer in the comment section 😉

Desert Box by br1ghtmouth | 7k words

With a chip in his head that has already caused the ruin for which he was made, Cody finds his way to Tatooine in the hopes of tending to the painful layers of memories left behind in his own silt.

Facile Felicity by br1ghtmouth | 14k words

Primary functions are supposed to be useful: survive against all odds; shield one’s battalion; fight until the very last breath. Cody would prefer anything besides the bleeding heart he’s been dealt.

Or: the General makes plans. Cody follows.

Good man of war by scrapathon 🔒| 16k words

During a medic’s first mission with the 212th, everything goes wrong. In the midst of it all, Cody deals with his growing feelings towards General Kenobi.

Across the path by Threebea O(ThreeBea)| 1k words

Cody is inspecting a cave system. He meets his General.

No. Not his General.

“The pathway,” Obi-Wan whispered. “I understand now. C-Commander, I owe you an apology. I am not your General.”

But Obi-Wan isn't the only one that has crossed over into his universe.

Safe in hand by Threebea O(ThreeBea) | 11k words

Cody ends up where all griefstricken people on the run end up in the galaxy far, far away. He makes a life for himself looking for scrap in the deserts of Tatooine.

He always did have a knack for finding Kenobi's lightsaber.

in the middle before I knew that I had begun by tenderjock🔒| 2k words

Obi-Wan beams at him, feeling unbearably fond. His Cody. His darling. Always looking after him.

Cody’s face is very still, just a few inches above his. Obi-Wan reaches out, touches his scar.

“What are you thinking?” he wonders.

OR: as the war stumbles to its end, Obi-Wan is forced to reassess his relationship with his commander.

Floating on a Starless Sea by shadowmaat🔒| 2k words

A cave-in leaves Cody trapped and badly injured. With another contingent of droids on the way there isn't time to try and dig him out. Obi-Wan is forced to make a difficult choice.

when the jebwa flower blooms by mxartbotboy🔒| 10k words

One year since the end of the war, and Cody still hasn’t figured out what to do about Obi-Wan. With Coruscant struggling to make the transition with the New Republic, Cody already has enough on his plate without trying to untangle the knot that is his feelings for the ex-Jedi. Will the tightly twisted flower bud finally bloom?

love without compromise by mxartbotboy🔒(ch.1) |

Cody has a panicked moment with his General and reveals more than he means to.

grip my hand through the pain by The_Last_Kenobi🔒| 2k words

It's all just happened, and yet Cody cannot stop playing it over and over in his head.

The trek into the hills, the deserted path.

His General standing like a human shield between his battalion and a wall of fire.

Panacea by MissyPup | 4k words

Cody has been falling for his General for two years. Two long, war filled years. But he's been able to stay in control of his feelings by just not acknowledging them.

But having to share a bed with the man he's been daydreaming about for two years makes Cody so tense Obi-Wan decides to give him a massage to help out.

Obi-Wan would certainly be the death of him.

Facula by MissyPup | 5k words

Obi-Wan would only be gone for a few days, Cody could handle that alone. Until his thoughts catch up to him thanks to Beru.

Or: How the Kenobi series should have gone because Cody deserves to be there.

Interrobang by MissyPup | 10k words

“I love you.” Cody blurted out so fast that even he was surprised by it.

Obi-Wan leaned back a bit, enough to touch Cody’s cheek and grin, “I love you too, Cody.”

“Keeping this a secret is hard.” Cody admitted, reaching up to grip Obi-Wan’s robes again. “But I know what would happen if anyone found out… Kriff, Rex found out on his own and I thought I was going to-”

coming full circle by catboydogma 🔒| 5k words

Or: five times Obi-Wan has handed Cody his lightsaber and one time Cody handed Obi-Wan his lightsaber

A Hush Sublime by catboydogma | 10k words

When Master Qui-Gon died, Obi-Wan had known him for half his life. He thought—sometimes, distantly, like the artificial Coruscanti sunlight—that he should have told Qui-Gon more often. They hadn’t needed words in living: Qui-Gon was a man of action more than anything else, and they both had difficulties in unspooling the thick vines of feeling inside their chests enough to speak of them. Obi-Wan had loved Qui-Gon. He’d thought, more than once, that that adoring love, of the Initiate that Obi-Wan still was at heart, had been a sign of a terrible and thorny attachment.

that is that + this is this by catboydogma🔒| 8k words

“Here. Drink, Cody. Come on. Don’t die on me now, not when you went to all the trouble to get out here.”

“Didn’t know,” Cody rasped.

“So I shouldn’t be expecting a cavalcade of Imperial stormtroopers to show up here, then?” The man asked, bland as anything.

The Commander gave this the consideration it was due. “No.” “Forgive me if I don’t immediately believe you.” The man’s voice sharpened, but his grip on the Commander stayed gentle, supporting his head even when it lolled back against his will. “When have I ever let you down?” Cody asked.

The man’s breathing hitched. He set Cody back down against the blankets and retreated to his spot several feet away, blaster and charge pack between the two of them like some strange barrier. “When you killed me,” the man said.

repeat, replay, return by Serie11🔒| 3k words

The last time he saw his General, Cody was ordering him shot off a cliff.

Ten years later, and Obi-Wan is in a bacta tank again. Some things, it seems, don’t change; Cody’s feelings among them.

all the world in my arms by biscuityskies | 5k words

A brief wry smirk flashes across his face, and as Cody meets his own eyes in the reflection of his drink, it softens. If he had to rationalise it, this anxiety most likely stems from the recent developments with the general.

Something's been off about him ever since he came back from the mission to Kadavo.

Compartment Syndrome by elwenyere | 3k words

Cody was lucky, really, that Obi-Wan had lost consciousness during the crash, because otherwise he would never have gotten away with the tender pressure building in his wrist - much less the lance of pain that sliced across his arm every time he adjusted his General’s weight over his shoulder.

I Promise by dontbelasagnax🔒| 6k words

Mace raises an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. He looks over Cody for a solid thirty grueling seconds, evaluating. "Hypothetically," he says in that dry way of his that is nearly impossible to tell whether he's making fun of Cody or teaching him a lesson, "if someone wanted to propose to their partner, they'd bring it up with said partner."

[ OR: Cody has plans. He's going to make a certain Jedi a very happy man. ]

The Lessons Not Yet Learned by meadmeinthemiddle | 23k words

The Force works in mysterious ways. Cody knows this, theoretically, but it all seems so far beyond him that he tends to not pay it any mind.

Little does Cody know, the Force has its claws buried deeper into him than he can possibly imagine - he just hasn't realized it yet.

: (Is to) :: (As) by TamerLorika | 12k words

Cody notices that Kenobi's regard for himself is always clinical and utilitarian. As he ponders a way to break the stalemate, he begins to learn more about the lightsaber that is so often in his hands, and how it relates to the subject of Kenobi's own soul.

for you, only you by dontbelasagnax | 11k words

“What's next for you, my dear, now that you’re a citizen of the Republic?” Obi-Wan tilts his head, expression alight and imploring. “You could get a job and find a place of your own amongst the many levels of Coruscant- or the stars.”

Light Will Prevail by kotekenobii | 3k words

In the aftermath of battle, an exhausted Obi-Wan slips away to watch the sunrise. Worried, Cody seeks him out.

Based on the end of Obi-Wan Kenobi #3.

You're the Only Stim I Need by Captora | 7k words

The five times Marshal Commander Cody brought General Kenobi bad GAR caf and the one time Obi-Wan showed Cody what caf was supposed to taste like.

[calumcxke]

LESSON LEARNED

soobin x fem reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: soobin was in a clingy mood, which usually meant a lot of kisses. but with neither of you being able to swim, it went south pretty quickly.

warnings: kissing?, suggestive, exhibitionism in the way they’re making out in front of the other guys??, they’re just rlly in love with each other idk

notes: i wrote this aug 2022 and i’m barley posting it now😭 trying to post more often but i srsly have the worst writers block rn

🎵: telepatía - kali uchis

it sounds like a song u would play at the pool to me,, tell me u get it

your shirt clung to your skin as you peeled it off slowly, wringing all the water out before putting it on the edge of the pool. with all the splashing it was sure to be drenched by the time you guys got out, but you were really too lazy to get out and walk all the way over to the table.

yeonjun cannonballed into the water and the splash got all over you, and the shirt you had just wrung out. you ended up just chucking it at the table, watching as it hit the side and instead splat onto the pavement.

hands wrapped themselves around your waist from behind, a head pressing into the nook on your shoulder. you smiled and leaned yourself closer to soobin, turning your head as much as you could to try and see him better, although it was hard in this position.

“hm?”, you whispered, bringing a hand up to play with his hair as he nodded and started waddling away from the area you guys were at so you were a bit deeper in the pool.

your mind went blank, soobin was going pretty far out, and neither of you could swim. of course the other four boys were here but you still got scared going into deep water, scared something bad would somehow happen. soobins strong arms around your waist should’ve made you feel content, but knowing he can’t swim… it really wasn’t a comfort.

“soobin.”

he hummed in response against your neck, waiting for your reply.

you were getting so deep that standing on your tippy toes wasn’t enough to keep your nose above water.

you caved and grabbed onto the railing, pulling yourself up and taking breaths as soobin stood behind you, arms wrapped more around your thighs now.

“how deep were you planning on going?”, you asked, still holding onto the railing as you let yourself slowly move back down.

he smiled, hands moving up to your waist to turn you around, pulling your body until your front was flush with his.

“just a bit further, put your hands around my shoulders.”

you stared at him for a few seconds before deciding to listen, wrapping your arms around his neck as soobin moved his hands up to the railing and started shuffling further into the pool, waiting until he feet couldn’t touch the bottom anymore to finally stop moving.

“this good?” he asked quietly, adjusting his arms so he was more comfortable, and you watched as his arms flexed as he moved. you started to realize just how much of an effect soobin in a pool had on you.

his hair was wet, and some droplets were dripping down his face, his chest was wet and you caught yourself staring, finally pulling yourself out of the trance you had put yourself in, looking back at soobin’s face to see him with a waiting look on his face, that had a bit of smugness to it. you nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

he hummed, smirk growing bigger, “you sure?”

“y- yeah.”

soobin laughed quietly, leaning in and pressing what you thought was a quick kiss to your lips. he pulled away and leaned back in just as quick, pressing his lips a bit harder into yours.

you were a bit thrown back, expecting him to pull away within a few seconds but he instead kept kissing you. you welcomed it of course, but you were thrown off because the other four were literally right behind you guys playing in the water, and what you two were doing wasn’t concealed at all.

when soobin started to deepen the kiss more your hand flew up, trying to point to the boys behind you, even though you were still kissing soobin back. your hand was flailing wildly and when it hit soobin’s hand, he grabbed your wrist, putting it back on his shoulder.

his hand moved to your chin, holding it in between his pointer and thumb, opening your jaw the tiniest bit so he could slip his tongue into your mouth, and the small whimper that left your mouth had soobin smiling against your lips.

his hand left your chin instead dipping down to your legs and pulling them to wrap around his waist, before moving back to the railing.

you knew the boys were watching, or talking about you and soobin, and you of course felt exposed, making out with soobin so openly in front of them, but the way that soobin was kissing you and the confidence he had right now that he never really had to do this in public was really making all your common sense fly out the window.

he finally pulled away, pulling your bottom lip away in the process, and you had to take a second to catch your breath and recollect yourself, which was shortly lived.

soobins head dipped down to your neck, starting to suck on a spot that had your head spinning and a moan almost leaving your mouth. it also had your hands instinctively detaching from around his neck and going into the water. you kinda forgot how deep you were.

your body fell quickly and your head was under in no time, your hands grabbing soobin’s shoulders again and you pulled yourself up quickly with a gasp, choking on the water that had gone up your nose and throat. soobin was quite literally the definition of the 😦 emoji, patting your back with one hand and shuffling into more shallow water with the other.

you were trying to recollect yourself from almost drowning, and from soobin’s lips all over yours right in front of the boys.

“you okay?”, you heard taehyun ask from your side, pushing your hair back and out of your face and helping soobin move to the stairs leading into the pool so you could sit.

“yeah *cough* yeah, i’m good.”, you inhaled sharply, blush heavy on your cheeks when you met eyes with soobin.

“good.”, soobin wrapped his hand around the back of your neck pulling your head closer to his and placing yet another kiss on your lips, albeit this time it was a short one, and you were grateful for that.

he stepped out of the pool, holding out his hand for you to join him, and he grabbed the towel he had set on the table, walking over and wrapping it around the both of you, once again enveloping your lips in a kiss, one that had you smiling into it, a small laugh leaving your lips.

you didn’t know what had gotten into soobin and where this boost of confidence had come from because he never showed this much affection to you around the boys, but you were definitely loving it.

“wanna go to the room?”, he whispered against your lips, pulling away to get your response.

“yeah, yes please.”

he smiled at you, unwrapping himself from the towel and letting you have it to yourself, opening the door to let you in first.

[cxrsed-angel]

Key Hooks Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Fluff

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Joel repeatedly loses his keys after you suggest a key dish. He finally gets a key hook and has a suggestion of his own.

Warnings: None really. slight mention of sex, domesticated fluff. No Outbreak Au. Sarah is in college.

A/N: Just Joel based on an ad and a dream I had. Pretty sure this is my first fic with Joel that doesn't have an age difference mentioned 😭. Also, it's the first nonsmut Joel fic in a while. (also nervous bc i haven't posted in a while and I kinda hate the title but whatever)

Joel was running late, super late. He had woken up later than expected. Hit snooze on his alarm twice. Partially because you were in his bed, and he didn't want to leave you, but partially because of you again because you kept him up begging him to fuck you more, and of course, he couldn’t resist. He could never tell you no, but that resulted in him being sore and tired and missing his two alarms.

You woke up yourself when you heard him cursing and muttering to himself, loudly moving things around, frantically searching for something.

You sit up in his bed, confused by the sounds Joel is making as he searches for his keys. Looking at him, you see him shake a pair of jeans that was lying on the floor.

“What the hell are you doing? Shouldn't you be leaving?” you ask, barely awake as you look at the time on his alarm clock.

“Can't find my damn keys.” He moves, searching through the stuff on his nightstand.

“I told you you needed a key holder.” Slowly leaving the warmth of his bed to help him search for the missing keys. You look on the other nightstand but don't see them there either. You sigh, looking as Joel searches on his messy dresser.

“Where'd you leave them?” you ask mid-yawn, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. It still takes a moment to actually wake up, and you're fairly tired from last night as well.

“Don't remember, you were yanking my pants off the second I got through the door, could be anywhere.” Joel searches on the floor but still fails to find them.

You nod, remembering how desperately you needed him after he returned from work. Putting your hands on him the first chance you got.

You decide to go downstairs. You glance at the clock. 9:30 a.m. Yeah, he was already 30 minutes late for work. You get out of his bed, putting on a pair of slippers you keep at his place. You search downstairs, checking underneath mail and other documents, on counters, and in the kitchen, but nothing. Joel’s not far behind you, also searching downstairs.

“Are you sure you can't skip today? Stay home. I can skip; we can both relax at home.” You ask, joking, kind of, but you're meant with just one of his unamused glares, taking it as a no. He sighs, frustrated as the search continues.

You move to the couch, searching under the cushions, the scene of last night's activities; you figure they could’ve slipped in between the cushions.

“You know, if you had a key holder, you could’ve been out the door.” You remind him as you look around for them.

“Also could've been out the door if you didn't beg me to fuck you last night before I even had my shoes off and made me lose them in the first place.”

You nodded. He had a point. With how fast you were on him, you probably tossed his keys across the room. You reach into the couch cushions and feel the familiar shape of keys in your hand. You hold them up, jangling them to show Joel you found them. He smiles as he walks towards you to grab them, but you pull them away from his reach at the last minute.

“You will finally get a key rack. I mean, I get it. Sarah moved into her dorm, so you want the whole man cave thing and everything, but will a key rack kill you? He rolls his eyes and reaches for them, nodding.

“Yes, I’ll get a damn key rack now give them so I can go.” He reaches, grabs the keys out of your hand, and gives you a quick kiss on your lips before leaving.

A few weeks later, Joel picked you up for a date and decided to take you to a new movie. You're in his black pickup truck heading back to his house since you have a few roommates back at your apartment and just want to spend time with him alone. After a car ride of forcing Joel to listen to your favorite songs since he lost rock paper scissors you got control of the music. He pulls into his driveway, turning the car off.

“Can’t believe I spent the last 15 minutes listening to that.” He grumbles, getting out of his truck, you watch as he comes around to the passenger side to open your door. You quickly find that you’ll never be opening doors when you're with him.

You smile as you get out. “You were dancing to it. Don't think I missed that.” He rolls his eyes as he closes the truck door behind you with his right hand while his left comes to the small of your back.

“I wasn’t dancin’. You were seeing things. The truck was just moving.” He walks with you to his front door as you laugh. Knowing he was definitely dancing to the songs.

“Yea? Does the truck always move to the beat or just this once?” You giggle again as you enter his house, your second home. He’s right behind you, closing and locking his door. You're removing your shoes and getting more comfortable when you hear his keys jingle.

You bend over, taking your shoes off, not facing him, but you didn't want a repeat of a few weeks ago. “Better remember where you put them this time, old man. I don't need you tearing your place apart at 8:00 am because you can't bother getting a key dish.”

“Well, I won’t forget since they have a home now.” His words make you stand up

You look up, noticing a wooden key rack with a shelf above it and a spot for mail. You see Miller engraved in the wood. You see Joel’s set of keys on it, and you smile.

“You bought a key holder?” You stare shocked at him, never expecting that he actually would.

“No, I built a key holder with some leftover wood and got some hooks. Sarah helped me with it one weekend. It was she who told me to add the mail holder.”

You laugh, looking at it closer, admiring his work, and looking at his house with his woodwork around. The shelves, the bookcase, the CD stand—all things he made over the years.

“You know it never fails to amaze me when you show me what you make. You've made things like a dresser and a table, and you made my desk for me and added cute flowers on it.”

Joel shrugs, never been good at accepting compliments, he shakes his head as he looks at the key holder.

“It’s my job, sweetheart. Would be kinda embarrassing if I was shit at it. I’ve been building things since I was a kid with my dad. He taught me and Tommy.”

You nod, slightly rolling your eyes at his inability to accept a compliment. You move closer to him. “Yeah, I know, but it’s still cool, Joel.”

You feel his hand come to your lower back, pulling you into a kiss, and you instantly melt against him, feeling his lips on yours. His left hand joins his right on the small of your back, pulling you even closer against him. Before the kiss gets too heated, you feel his lips leaving yours.

“Wait, almost forgot.” You watch as Joel reaches into the back pocket of his Levi’s, pulling out a single key and holding it out to you. “a key cause…well, I know you mentioned your lease ending in a few weeks….and well, we've been together for a bit…. I was just thinking about you moving in. If you want. If you don’t, that’s fine. I mean, you can keep the key anyway and-“

You crack a faint smile hearing him ramble and you could tell he was nervous about asking you to move in, which was sweet. You had thought about it but assumed Joel had preferred his bachelor pad since Sarah moved into her dorm this past fall. You never thought he’d actually ask. you only mentioned your lease ending soon once on the phone. You didn’t imagine he’d remember, let alone offer you to move in.

“You want me to? Because I have a lot of shit, and Sarah just moved out. ” you smile a bit, seeing him laugh.

“it’s up to you, baby. No pressure, just offering. But half your shit is here anyway. You spend most nights here anyway, and I got half your wardrobe taking up room in my closet already.”

You nod, smiling, knowing he was 100% right. You’re still thinking about what to do when he speaks again.

“Sweetheart, I don’t need an answer right now. Relax. Just let me know, okay? My offer isn’t going anywhere.”

His deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts as he grabs your hand lightly, pulling you into his living room. You sit on the couch while he goes to the kitchen, grabbing the remote to find something to watch. A few minutes later, Joel hands you a glass filled with your favorite wine while he has a beer for himself. Moving his arm around your shoulder, he pulls closer to you, still thinking about his offer in the back of your mind.

[ataliagold]

But My Heart Is Just A Little Boy

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: Teen (swearing)

W/C: 2012

Tags: Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, hurt/comfort, Steve Harrington has dyscalculia, Steve Harrington has self esteem issues, Steve Harrington needs a hug, fluff, light angst, DnD, Mike and Dustin are a little mean here

Notes: Just slowly posting some of my AO3 stuff here as well :) Title from Rattlesnake by Jack Van Cleaf.

___

Steve joining in on Eddie’s campaign was supposed to be a nice surprise for his boyfriend.

And it was; Eddie’s face had lit up with joy when Steve had walked in and sat down with the kids around the table. Steve had taken the dice Dustin had loaned him and lined them up in front of him, from the D4 (the funny triangle one) up to the D20 (the one with heaps of sides, Steve reminded himself.)

If he kept them in that order it would help him pick the right dice quickly, he’d decided.

Because he wanted this to go to perfectly.

Eddie had been asking him to join in on a game for months, but Steve had so far refused, only coming along sometimes to watch quietly. There were parts of it that piqued his interest – namely the combat and the creatures Eddie planted into the game, because some of them were so damn cool even if Steve wouldn’t readily admit it out loud. A small part of him, a much younger part that had loved fairy tales and stories about knights and dragons and sword fights before his father had confiscated those books, deeming them too childish, watched with a quiet giddiness as the kids battled all manner of beasts.

But much of the game was so complicated - there were so many numbers, and Steve had no idea how Eddie and the kids managed to keep track of everything, how they added dice values together so damn quickly and kept track of a seemingly endless list of stats and bonuses and modifiers, whatever the hell they were.

Eddie knew about his difficulty with numbers. He’d seen the way Steve had to count with his fingers, how it took him far too fucking long to do a simple equation, how he stood in Melvald’s staring at the price of something just trying to make the numbers make sense so they wouldn’t blow their grocery budget.

And Eddie was patient, always. But D&D was Eddie’s realm, his place to shine, and Steve was so worried about holding him back and ruining the game every time he had to pause to add two fucking dice together.

Finally, he’d caved. Secretly, with Dustin’s help, he’d put a character sheet together. He’d made a paladin because Dustin had told him it suited him. Steve made him strong and lawful good, just like the knights he used to read about as a little boy. Dustin had rolled his eyes a little at that but Steve had been quite proud of what he’d put together.

Plus, Dustin had promised to help him with the math.

But here Steve was, well over an hour into the campaign, and he was struggling.

Cheeks burning, he turned to Dustin yet again.

“Wait, which one am I rolling?” he whispered.

Dustin rolled his eyes. The kid had been patient at first, but it was beginning to wear thin.

Steve was beginning to wear thin.

“The D10, Steve,” Dustin hissed.

“Right,” Steve nodded, grabbing for one of the dice.

“That’s the D8, Steve,” Mike said wearily.

Steve’s cheeks flushed even hotter, and he grabbed the other dice, rolling it quickly.

“Ahhh...seven,” Steve announced.

“You slash at the goblin, your blade cutting deep into its chest, the creature gurgling and reeling backwards…” Eddie leant over the table, giving a dramatic recount of events.

Steve smiled, unable to help it. His boyfriend was having such a good time, and even if Steve wasn’t enjoying himself so much, well, that was ok. He could do this, for Eddie.

“…but it scrabbles back to its feet, weak but alive,” Eddie finishes.

Mike groaned and slapped the table.

“It has to be almost dead,” Lucas announced.

“Yeah, but there’s still four others,” Mike pointed out.

“This one must be on two hit points or less,” Will surmised.

How did he know that? Steve frowned, let the kids talk amongst themselves. His gaze wandered over to Eddie, watching him lean back in his chair, eyes shining. He shot a wink at Steve when he caught him looking, then frowned a little, obviously noticing Steve wasn’t looking all that comfortable.

You ok? He mouthed at him.

Steve nodded quickly.

But he felt small.

Grow the fuck up, you’re fine.

“…Steve!” Mike groaned.

Steve’s attention snapped back to the kids. “What?”

“Stop staring at Eddie and tell us how many hit points you’ve got left.”

“Um…” Steve glanced down at the piece of paper in front of him. He’d scribbled some numbers down like Dustin had told him to every time his character had taken damage, but there were a lot of numbers there and he wasn’t sure they all actually related to his hit points…

“Give it here,” Dustin snatched the paper from him impatiently, peering down at it.

Steve waited while Dustin assessed his work, the feeling vaguely reminiscent of being back in school, his teachers reading over his work with a disappointed shake of their heads.

“This can’t be right, Steve,” Dustin sighed. “It says you’re on twelve hit points…is that a twelve? Your writing’s messy.”

Steve nodded. “Yours isn’t much better, pea-brain,” he mumbled, just to shoot something back at the kid.

Dustin narrowed his eyes at him. “You must have less than that because of the damage you took in the last round. You’re probably down to…eight at the most, by now.”

“Just make it eight, then,” Steve grumbled.

“Eight it is, big boy,” Eddie agreed.

“It doesn’t work like that, though,” Mike huffed. “You actually have to keep track of this stuff Steve, there’s no point playing if you just make the numbers up.”

“It doesn’t matter, really,” Will tried to intervene quietly. “It can just be eight.”

Dustin picked up his pencil, drawing some columns on Steve’s paper. “Ok, so just use this one column to keep track of damage, don’t write all over the page. There’s your total hit points at the top, and every time you take damage, write it down under there, ok? And then just take it off the total. Simple.”

Like it was that fucking easy. Maybe for them, it was. They didn’t get every number mixed up in their brain, they didn’t stare at a single digit trying to put some numeric value behind it and coming up with zilch.

Dustin was trying to help, Steve knew. But his tone of voice was so fucking condescending that it had Steve squirming in his seat, wishing he was anywhere else.

He felt Eddie’s eyes on him.

“Come sit by me, Stevie, I’ll help you keep track.” Eddie said gently.

“You’ll just go easy on him, and that’s not fair!” Mike whined.

“Can it, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped at him.

“Just because he can’t do basic math.”

“Right, you get to roll with disadvantage now, just for that,” Eddie told him smugly.

Mike was retorting with something, but Steve didn’t hear it.

His pulse was thumping in his ears, his cheeks on fire. The years were stripped from him, the sensitive child he’d tucked away inside a long time ago forced to the surface.

“Look, just carry on without me,” Steve muttered, and stood up quick enough that his chair scraped on the floor.

“Steve -” Dustin started, but Steve was finished, striding towards the stairs and blinking back tears.

He wasn’t going to cry in front of the kids, not over a fucking game, not over something his boyfriend loved so much.

But they were coming faster than he could blink them back as he headed out of Mike’s stuffy basement and out to the driveway, the cold night air caressing his flushed face.

This was supposed to have been a treat for Eddie. It was supposed to be fun, and Steve had ruined the night by being fucking stupid.

A tear tracked down his cheek , Steve losing the battle against them. He’d just drive home, he decided. Steve had come straight from work that day, so Eddie had come separately in his van, he wouldn’t be inconvenienced.

And then they could finish their game in peace, without having to treat Steve like a five-year-old.

He was getting in the driver’s seat when Eddie ran to him, both hands reaching for him.

“Stevie…” Eddie murmured softly.

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled, dragging his sleeve across his face, smudging the tears there.

“Why? The kids were being assholes, I’ve already yelled at them.”

Steve shook his head. “I was just slowing everyone down, they were getting frustrated, I get it.”

“No, sweetheart, they were being rude,” Eddie corrected him. “Especially Wheeler.” Eddie brushed his thumbs across Steve’s cheeks, crouching down beside the open driver’s door. “I’ve told them to pull their heads in. Do you…do you want to come back inside?”

“Eds…” Steve leant into his hands a little. “I’m no good at it. I really wanted to try, for you, and I’m so sorry I ruined it, but there’s too many numbers and I can’t keep track of everything and it takes me so fucking long and it’s embarrassing because I can’t even keep up with a bunch of kids, and I just feel like I’m back at school again.”

Eddie cupped his cheeks again, tilting Steve’s head to look at him. “Hey. You haven’t ruined anything, they did. I’m so happy you came along tonight, because I know you did it for me. But look, D&D doesn’t have to be your thing -”

“But -”

“It doesn’t,” Eddie cut in. “Just like…your balls in laundry basket games aren’t mine. But I like hanging around while you and Wayne watch them, and I love how excited you get about it, and how you sit there with that fucking pretty smile…”

Steve huffed out a small laugh, and Eddie grabbed his wrist to press a kiss to the inside of it.

“But I don’t know what’s going on most of the time,” Eddie continued. “It makes you happy, and that’s enough for me. So, I don’t want you to feel like you have to play D&D just for me if it’s not something you enjoy. It’s more than enough that you listen to my ideas, that you help me write -”

“I don’t really,” Steve said quietly.

“You do! Or have you forgotten who came up with that fucking amazing twist with the elven prince?”

“I got it from a movie,” Steve argued.

“So? I didn’t think of it, and it had the little shrimps completely stumped.”

Steve managed a small smile. “I do like some of the stories,” he admitted quietly. “But I think…I just wanna go home, ok? You can carry on.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m gonna get them to pack up in there. I’ll drop them home, then follow you back, ok?”

“Steve?” came Dustin’s voice from behind Eddie, small and hesitant.

Steve quickly straightened up in his seat, wiping a hand across his face.

“Yeah, buddy?” he replied, his voice a little hoarse.

“I’m…I’m sorry. That we weren’t more patient. It’s ok if you struggle with numbers, and we should’ve helped more.”

“It’s ok, Dusty,” Steve told him.

Eddie frowned, reached down to squeeze Steve’s hand, then turned to Dustin. “It isn’t ok,” he argued. “But it was nice of you to apologize.”

Dustin nodded. “If you want to try again sometime, I promise I’ll help more. I…I really liked having you play.”

“Thanks,” Steve managed.

“Tell Wheeler to start crafting his apology too,” Eddie said firmly, still cradling Steve’s hand in his own. “Otherwise he’s rolling with disadvantage for the whole next session.”

Dustin’s eyes widened a little before he nodded.

After packing up, the kids waited sheepishly by Eddie’s van. Eddie stayed crouched next to Steve a moment longer.

“Go home, get comfy on the couch, and pick out any movie you want to watch, ok?” Eddie murmured to him. “When I get home I’m gonna order us some pizza, and I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you, understand?”

Steve laughed softly. “Sounds perfect.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

___

[angelicsoka]

PERFECT, q. hughes

word count | 0.5k 

pairings | quinn hughes x plus size!reader

summary | quinn realizes his girlfriend doesn't see herself the way he sees her.

warnings | not proofread. no use of “y/n”. slightly suggestive content. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.

a/n | i’m sorry i havent posted anything, i have had no time or motivation to write :/// but i was finally able to sit down and write this. it is not personally my favorite thing i’ve written but i need to post something. anywayyy enjoy!!

quinn hughes was obsessed with his girlfriend. every little thing from her perfections to her flaws; she was perfect in his eyes. however, what she saw in the mirror was the farthest thing from perfect. although she was insecure, she never voiced them in fear someone would agree. so she stayed silent, smiling through it all. 

quinn had come to her a few days prior about finally hard launching their relationship, something she was hesitant about. however, one look at his excited eyes made her cave. they decided that they would take some cute pictures during their picnic date they had planned out, deciding to post them later that night. 

the two watched as the post quickly blew up, positive comments rolling in, the hateful ones not far behind. she did her best to ignore them, placing her phone on do not disturb. it was when quinn finally fell asleep that she began to read them.

they varied from simple jealous comments about quinn having a girlfriend, to the ones that pointed out every stretch mark, every scar, every flaw. she sat there, reading each hateful comment and DM, tears streaming down her face silently. she hadn’t realized quinn had woken until she felt him shift, a confused look on his face. she moved quickly to wipe her tears but it was no use, he had already seen them. “hey, what's wrong?” he moved to sit up, his hand settling on her cheek, moving her head slightly to look at him.

“nothing. it's nothing.” quinn gave her a pointed look, a sigh escaping from her lips. “‘m just lookin’ at the comments on the post, ‘s all.” quinn gently took the phone out of her hands, his eyes squinting at the bright screen. 

“you know these aren’t true, right?” quinn said after a moment of reading them. she couldn’t even look at him. “you are the most beautiful girl i think i’ve ever laid my eyes on.” she rolled her eyes at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “also, jealousy makes a person ugly, so already you are more beautiful than them.” she giggled at that, snuggling into quinn as he rested his arm around her shoulder. “plus, i think the only person’s opinion that should matter is me. well, and you i guess.” quinn smiled down at her, wiping the stray tear.

“i love you, quinny; but you know, they aren’t exactly wrong.” she pointed out, still doubting him slightly. quinn scoffed at that:

“okay, you’re right to having an opinion about yourself has been revoked!” she laughed at that, a smile finally settling on her face. quinn maneuvered them so he was looking down over her. “i guess i’m just gonna have to show you every perfect thing about you then.” she looked at him, eyebrows furrowed as he started with her face. 

“well, i’ll start with your dimples,” he kissed both of her cheeks before moving on, “and your lips.” yet another kiss. “and your moans.” he moved down to her neck, sucking at the skin to entice a moan. he looked up with a smile before gradually getting lower down her body, kissing every little thing he loved about her. once he finished, he settled in beside her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead as he did so.

“i love you so much, and i just want you to remember that even when you feel like you can’t love yourself, i’ll still love you.”

[cryptidclaw]

Whisperingclan Year 1!

Introducing Whisperingclan! my very haunted clangen clan with a terrible leader!!

I drew these guys MONTHS ago so this art is kinda old now T-T I finally am posting them tho...

I kinda want to draw more yearly updates but I may not draw every cat... it depends on how im feeling and how much time I have :P

...

Whisperingclan lives in the mountains next to the territory of their origin clan Roaringclan. Many of the clan founders were a part of a coup in Roearingclan to make Tempeststar, at the time Tempestwhorl, deputy or leader... they were instead defeated and banished.

The founders wandered together through the territories outside of the clans... as they drew nearer to the mountains they began to hear strange whispers on the wind. Following these whispers they found themselves deep in the mountains in a cave filled with crystals that seemed to whisper with a chorus of their Starclan ancestors.

That night they slept in the cave, and in her dreams Tempeststar was named a leader of a new clan, Whisperingclan, by Starclan themselves. The new clan now calls themself the clan closest to Starclan, and they have made their camp within the Whispering Cave claiming that they are its protectors and the only cats who can be trusted with it's power.

...

I am now continuing this clan's story with updates for each moon!

First Update HERE!

...

Below is each cat from the lineup + a description of their character and what they have done in the clan's first year!

Tempeststar!

Tempest is a very cold and cruel cat who acts purely for her own gain and power, she HATES when others undermine her or disagree with her. She uses the fact that Starclan spirits guided her clan to the Whispering cave as proof that her new clan, and her as it's leader, is the most close to Starclan and must not be questioned no matter what. She doesn't truthfully care much about Starclan, beyond what they can do for her, but she likes to but on a devout follower act to get what she wants and come across as holier than thou.

So far Tempeststar's leadership has been filled with her "teaching" cats who stand up to her lessons by attacking them and forcing others to help her. These common demonstrations have lead to her almost always having injuries and the death of two clanmates. Ravenblur was the first to die, he had followed Tempest's orders in attacking his previous apprentice but succumbed to the injuries he sustained. Jaggedlark, the cat Raven had attacked, died next, her determination to call out Tempest needed to be stopped.

Tempest likes to find cats who she can manipulate and use to do her bidding, her original cat she used for this was Ravenblur, who was happy how maim and kill for Tempest. Now it is the ex-kittypet Creekslip (who was the one to kill Jagged) who is less enthusiastic about her unspoken job as attacker and executioner

Tempeststar also became mates with her deputy Blizzardchase and is now expecting their first litter! They are both very evil so their children will be very messed up im sure <3

Blizzardchase!

Blizzard is a cocky cat, she is well aware of how strong and skilled she is and she is not afraid to make that known. She deeply respects Tempest and was one of the first cats to join her coup. Along with respecting Tempeststar, Blizzard also has big gay feelings for her and was NOT afraid to share this, she decided that evil woman would be her mate and she wooed her (probably with evilness) until she got Tempest to fall for her lol.

Blizzard hasn't been up to much this year other than normal deputy duties and being in love with her evil wife... she trained Mossleaf but managed to impart none of her attitude and outlook on life to the young cat. Blizzard is currently doting on her mate and is very exited to see her kits next moon.

Bramblespeck!

Bramblespeck was not always a healer, she was a warrior in Roaringclan, but she joined Tempest's rebellion as she had always looked up to her... She was banished alongside everyone else and was the first cat to begin to hear the whispering, she was the one to lead the way to the cave and through this she realized she had been chosen to be the clan's healer.

Bramble has found her new job difficult as she only had warrior training, but luckily Frostfleck had plenty of healing knowledge that he could share with her. Frost has really been her saving grace this year as he always takes over for her when she gets injured, which seems to be quite often, she's so accident prone. Bramble is also super relieved that Whiskers joined the clan since they really needed another healer...

Whiskers!

Whiskers is a cooky lady with a fascination for the stars and herbs. She began to hear the cave's whispers while wandering alone and followed them straight to a Whisperingclan patrol... after hearing of clan life she decided that being a healer would be the perfect role for her in life and asked to join the clan. The clan is wary towards letting in too many non-clan cats but they need more members and healers so they reluctantly agreed.

Whiskers can often be found staring wide eyed straight into the cave's crystals, studying the movements of the stars, or telling cats off for not properly respecting their ancestors.

Creekslip!

The resident blorbo, absolute soggy sad beast... she is going to cat hell unless she stops this shit lmaooo

Creekslip has extreme abandonment issues and a fear of not being excepted, and left behind. Her twolegs abandoned her in the woods and left her to learn how to survive on her own, she's strong now, but she is desperate for a home. Creekslip joined Whisperingclan on their third moon, she felt a pull to this place after wandering the woods close to the mountains, she now questions every choice that brought her here, but she cant leave... she cant handle being alone again.

A moon into being in the clan Creekslip was given an apprentice, Sunpaw, as a chance to prove herself, but she became ill soon after, and Tempeststar took on much of Sunpaw's training. Creek could feel Tempest's judgement towards her... she failed at the first task she was given, and she was determined to prove herself to the clan and the leader. Tempest could sence this desparation and she saw the potential in it...

When Jaggedlark once again stood up to Tempeststar and Tempest called on Creek to aid her in teaching the young cat a lesson... Creek was desperate for a chance to prove herself and went through with it, she had too... Jagged died later due to the injuries Creek delt her... this haunts her. Despite this however Creek continues to be Tempest's new cat to call on to beat fear and submission into the clan. Creek is to fearful to stop, but she hates what she has now done, and continues to do.

Anyways I love her she keeps committing crimes but she is so sad :(

Frostfleck!

He has Whitestorm vibes, but like if Whitestorm was a part time healer.

Frostfleck was a loner and joined Tempest's group before they found the cave and became a clan. He isn't into all the bad vibes of the clan but he likes the idea of being in a clan and having community, plus there are plenty of good folks in the clan and he choses to stick close to them. Frost has lots of knowledge in healing though he enjoys warrior duties more, he is an unofficial part time healer, and he takes over whenever they need more help in the healer den! (in game I make him a healer when i need more healers , these cats hurt themselves so often T-T)

Skipspot!

My kind transboy, i love himb , I feel like he just joined the clan to make friends and have community.

he has barely done anything because he just joined the clan, but he has already befriended Sunmane and gave her advice on telling Mossleaf how she feels... ig I can thank this man for finally getting Sun to confess to Moss lol.

Butterflyfreckle!

Butterfly is like the opposite of Creekslip, she was a kittypet but she chose to leave her home for adventure! She is confident in herself and is great at making friends, she keeps away from the bad parts of the clan and just enjoys herself. She has done pretty much nothing this year though hehe.

Weedpatch!

Weedpatch was Tempeststar's apprentice and she convinced him to join her coup through this, he did so mostly out of fear and also because his cousin Jaggedpaw and her mentor had agreed to join as well... Weed always looked up to Jagged.

Both Weed and Jagged regretted their choices to follow Tempest, but it was too late, and they were facing the conciquences of decisions they made as dumb kids. Jagged became angry after the banishment, but Weed just became... quiet. He doesn't like to get involved in any of the clan conflicts, he stays by himself as much as he can with Tempest having been his mentor. He used to spend most of his time with Jaggedlark, she was his best friend, but then she was killed, he doesn't like to talk about Jagged anymore. These days, Weedpatch, living up to his name, copes with his trauma by being high on catmint half the time.

Mossleaf!

Mossleaf was a kit in Roearingclan, the banished cats literally just stole her, she is actually the Roaringclan leader's daughter, hence the stealing, they wanted some vengeance. Roaringclan think Moss is dead but nope! She's just in the spooky cave cult!

Mossleaf is very aloof and strange, she likes to listen to the Whispers, and while most cant decipher them it seems like Moss might actually be able to hold a conversation with them. Bramblefleck thought Moss should become a healer but Tempest promised to give Blizzardchase the next apprentice available, despite this Moss doesn't seem to mind being a warrior though.

Moss became very close to the other apprentice at the time, Sunpaw and they became so close it seemed one could never be found without the other. They seemed to have crushes on each other from the start and it was no surprise when Sunmane confessed to Moss and they became mates soon after they both became warriors. I love them both sm they r cuties <3 (the not evil gays)

Sunmane!

Sunmane is my favorite design... I love her lion mane and her bangs sm she is so CUTE

Sunmane joined the clan as a kit and before they found the cave. Her grandfather Flowermoon was trying to find a group to support them both, Sun's parents were gone and Flower was getting old... the strange group of cats was the best choice they had at the time.

Sunmane likes to stay positive and tries to lighten the mood with some jokes. Her apprenticeship was tough, and now that she is free from Tempeststar she is staying far away from her. She spends almost all her time chilling with her mate Mossleaf and trying to enjoy her life despite all the things that go down in the clan.

Larkcaw!

Larkcaw is the starclan guide and was the main spirit to guide the cats to the Whispering Cave... she is evil actually, how did she get into Starclan??? I'm pretty sure the only reason she is in the good place is bec she didn't obviously do anything evil... she just plotted.

Lark decided to lead her great granddaughter Tempeststar to the Whispering Cave, she convinced other spirits that a clan living there would be a GREAT idea, despite the fact that it is actually very bad for cats to live in a cave full of that much Starclan energy. It can easily mess with a cat's mind, especially those with a stronger Starclan connection.

Larkcaw really just wanted control over a clan, and what better than making a new clan backed by a powerful Starclan source?

Flowermoon!

Flowermoon is Sunmane's grandfather and became her caretaker after her parents died, he joined the group because he knew he needed cats who could care for Sun and him as well since he was getting old, he is unsure of his decision, Tempeststar is cruel, but he knows Sunmane has found friends and joy in the clan despite it all. Before his death Flowermoon spent much of his time telling stories to the kits and apprentices, he passed away of old age, and now watches over his granddaughter <3

Jaggedlark!

Jaggedlark was Ravenblur's apprentice back in Roaringclan and due to this she had spent much of her apprenticeship around Tempest and her followers. She was convinced that the coup was a good idea and even played a role in convincing her cousin Weedpaw of the same thing. After the coup and subsequent banishment however, Jaggedpaw began to see the truth in what kind of a person Tempest was... she grew to despise the leader. Jagged became a warrior on the clan's first official moon, but Jaggedlark became even more confident in speaking out against Tempeststar's actions after this and this would sadly lead to her demise.

On the same moon that she became a warrior, she angered Tempest by questioning one of her decisions, Tempest called on Jaggedlark's own previous mentor, Ravenblur, to attack Jagged alongside Tempest to teach Jagged a lesson. Jagged would end up wounded from the fight, but not nearly as much as Ravenblur who died of his injuries a moon after... Jagged was devastated, her mentor had attacked and betrayed her trust, but she had killed him, didn't that make her just as bad?

A few moons later Jagged would end up being made an example of again when she began speaking out against Tempest even more than before, even questioning her place as leader... Jagged would die like her mentor, dying a moon later from blood loss.

Ravenblur!

Ravenblur died almost immediately, but i hate him, I sent him the the dark forest >:)

Raven was one of Tempeststar's biggest followers (a Darkstripe to Tigerstar sort), he did anything Tempest asked of him, even attacking his own previous apprentice Jaggedlark. He is VERY mad that Jagged ended up killing him, he feels he deserved more from life... he wanted more power like Tempest and Blizzard, and Jagged took that away from him...

[seeingivy]

style

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

previous part linked here

an: this is 10k. I decided to leave the what am I to you scene for the next chapter bc of it...apologies....also I jsut wanted to post it bc I promised this at the beginning of the week and yday and now its been a long time coming

songs mentioned: style by taylor swift and glimpse of us by joji (minor mention of peace by taylor swift too)

--

--

“Wait, so. I don’t get it. You’re basically…acting like a couple on purpose?” Zeke asks. 

Eren spares a weary glance to his parents, matching apprehensive looks in their eyes, as he slides the salt and pepper shakers towards Zeke. 

Leave it to him to bring up the elephant in the room. 

One mention of attending an award show or a red-carpet event had the three of them dropping everything to come to New York at the drop of the hat. Especially when Scott Clarkson was going to be attending. 

Levi was more than happy to oblige them at the hotel they were all staying at, much to Eren’s dismay, which left him in his current predicament. 

That unlike his friends, who were secretly letting him indulge in something he probably shouldn’t and turning a blind eye, the three of them were never going to let it go. 

Eren knew that part of what he was doing was wrong. That he was walking a very fragile line and that their concerns, in some sense, were very valid. 

He had promised you a show. The problem was that it wasn’t just a show for him. It wasn’t even the slightest bit difficult for him to give the public exactly what they wanted to see – to go above and beyond to prove that the two of you were better than ever. 

He wanted that deeply – for it to be true. Fervently, desperately. It wasn’t hard to pretend when Eren had spent a majority of his life thinking about you, about what this would be like, anyways. 

It started out simple. Eren offered to accompany you on your first walk out in public that morning – after watching you stare at the people through the window the entire morning. There was a big crowd lingering outdoors, supplied by rumors that the group of them were staying in the hotel, and he was positive that some part of it was making you feel green. 

That and the fact that as much as you could front, some part of this had to be some level of nerve wracking to you. You had put on a brave face very well, but Eren’s deep rooted fear is that this’ll just send you deeper into that cave you retreated into last time – and that you’ll leave him waiting outside again. 

So he offered to do your first paparazzi walk with you. Cited that it would have been the perfect thing to build up more publicity, give them a greater chance of stealing the morning headlines about how today was Hyla’s birthday and the buzz around what she was going to wear tonight. 

It gave him an excuse to make sure you didn’t run off this time – that he’d be able to catch you if something happened. 

Except Eren took it too far. He had given you the permission to pump the brakes whenever you felt like it was too much and the fact that you almost never did made it impossible for him to stop. So he pulled you close whenever the paparazzi were near, brushing his nose against yours as the two of you smiled sunshine into each other’s faces. 

It was a disaster waiting to happen. Though from Eren’s expert point of view, he couldn’t fall any more than he already had. 

The problem would come later – when it would just become another memory that he cherished, had to relive after he was finally denied the promise of your company and friendship for good. 

When the show ended in two months and when you would have no reason to talk to each other again. 

Eren shakes the thought from his head as he looks back up at them. 

“Yeah. But trust me, it’s actually working. The record label dropped Ricky James and now that Y/N promised them her new album, they’re going to sever ties all together.” Eren states. 

“I just don’t see what that has to do with pretending to date. You know, especially when you’re still in love with the girl.” Carla states. 

“It’s sadistic. Even for you.” Zeke states. 

Eren shoves him in the side. With his parents' eyes averted, he takes the chance to knee Zeke this time to catch his attention. 

Could you just back me up? Eren mouths. 

Zeke rolls his eyes, before quietly mouthing his response back. 

Okay, fine! Just relax. 

Eren turns back to the two of them, mustering his best smile. And hoped that deep down, that fleeting flare of hope that’s been burning in his chest won’t go to waste this time – that there are real grounds behind actually bringing Scott Clarkson down. 

“There’s a certain publicity that you can’t buy with people who have…such a drama filled history like us. We’re aiming for a solidified deal with Ethan Cole by the end of the Met Gala.” Eren states. 

He flinches when his dad drops the fork against the ceramic of the plate. 

“Ethan Cole? Are you crazy, Eren? He’s never going to agree to a deal with you guys.” 

“Maybe a little. But I think that we could do it. I spent years being played by idiots like Scott Clarkson – it’s not hard to tell that’s how he keeps people around. And…we have an idea of exactly how to do it.” Eren states. 

“I don’t know, Eren. I don’t exactly like this idea. I wouldn’t exactly put your hopes on this.” Carla murmurs. 

Eren gives her a smile, reaching to tangle his ankle with hers under the table. 

He gets it. Deep down, he does. Because the last time Eren did this – with the court case and Connie and Lana at his side – Eren was downtrodden when Scott Clarkson’s life virtually stayed the same. Almost everyone knew, or had some semblance of an idea, that Eren had sued him, that Scott had terribly wronged him. 

He had gone through the lengths of an entire court case, just for it to amount to nothing. 

He still had his career. He still had the movies, a beloved producing company, and the godawful tabloids that ruined Eren’s life. People continued to work with him despite everything that had happened. 

“I won’t be like last time. It…it almost feels better this time around. I have everyone around me and I don’t feel alone, so.” Eren adds. 

“Well, you weren’t exactly alone the last time.” Carla states. 

“You know what he meant. It’s different.” Grisha murmurs.” 

“I do think she can do it. These people only care about what makes them money or…or moves their business forward. No one can do that for them like her. And even besides that, she’s really earnest in the way she moves. I feel like people could even become more aware of this type of thing if she spoke out about it.” Eren finishes. 

Eren looks over, looking to his mom’s brown eyes hoping for her approval. He doesn’t exactly find it, but there’s a nod. He understands it all the same – that he’s the one who gets to make the calls here, regardless. 

“Oh, let’s all relax! If Eren wants to kiss her and run around doing god knows what, that’s his business! He’s a grown man.” Zeke adds, sliding one hand around his shoulder and using his free one to pinch his cheek. 

Eren seethes, stomping hard on his foot under the table. 

“I don’t kiss her.” Eren defends. 

“Not yet, you don’t. That’s for next month, right?” Zeke responds, with a wink. 

Is this what Zeke thought backing him up was? 

Eren can feel his cheeks burn. Leave for the empty spots in the script – that Levi had stated he had some special plan for – the last part of the show was almost finished. And much to Eren’s dismay, Hange and Levi overrode his opinion in the writers room and included a kiss in the script. 

He’s just hoping for his own sake that they end up cutting it before the day comes like they did the first time. There were only so many things that he could stomach. 

“That’s filming, Zeke. That’s different.” 

Zeke rolls his eyes. 

“Right.” 

Eren’s thrown out of the loop when the door swings open, with Connie and Mikasa barging in with you at their heels. The three of you look particularly disheveled – sopping wet from the rain outside, giggly smiles on your faces – as Connie and Mikasa shake their hands at the group of them. 

“We ran out of toothpaste over there, Eren. We’re just gonna take some.” Mikasa states. 

“You needed three people to get one tube of toothpaste?” Eren asks. 

“Well, I was going to come. Then, Connie decided he wanted to accompany me. And then Y/N realized we were going to get it from your room, then decided to come.” Mikasa responds, dragging Connie off to the little bathroom at the side. 

Eren lifts his head to find you standing at the door, with…an almost awkward look on your face. The big smile that he saw seconds ago was virtually gone. 

“You know what! I think Falco’s actually calling me…so I’m just going to…” 

“You should sit. Eat breakfast with us.” Carla states, gesturing to the empty seat at her side. 

That’s when Eren realizes it – and it sends an overwhelming amount of relief through him. That you didn’t feel awkward around him but around his family instead. 

Eren racks his mind trying to remember it – when you were with them last. And if his memory isn’t deceiving him, it was the last Thanksgiving that you guys were together, a snowy November years ago. 

And he gets it, the immediate nervousness. God knows he felt the same way around Falco and Colt when they arrived – after Levi hadn’t listened to his advice to not cast the two of them in the show. Just to spare him some torture. 

Levi, obviously, refused to listen. 

You always had your guard up around Zeke and if he knew you half as well as he thought he did, he knows for a fact that you must feel embarrassed to show your face around his parents now after everything that happened. 

“Mom, it’s okay. You can go see if Falco’s good, Y/N.” Eren affirms. 

Eren watches as your eyes meet his, slightly faltering before you shake your head and drag yourself to the table. From his peripheral, he can see that Zeke’s already too delighted for his own good as Zeke quickly offers you the seat at Eren’s side and sits directly across from the two of you. 

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jaeger. I appreciate it.” you respond, smoothing the little cloth over your lap as you knit your fingers into knots. 

Eren busies himself with filling your plate, carefully sectioning small amounts of each dish, before he puts his hand in between yours. You welcome the touch, linking your fingers in with Eren’s under the table, as you shoot them all a smile. And Zeke’s godawful delighted smile back almost makes you sweat. 

“Eren. You should go check on Falco, since he was calling Y/N.” Carla states. 

“Huh? Oh, I-I’m sure he’s fine. Colt’s here and Gabi too, you know.” you mumble. 

There’s no way you’re sitting alone with his family. 

“I think Eren should check on him. That way, it won’t be in the back of your head while we talk.” Carla responds. 

Eren shoots you a questioning look at your side, as you release his hand, and give him a nod. You can tell that he’s hesitating, his movements painstakingly slow as he exits the room and closes the door behind him, leaving you with the three of them. 

“I apologize for that. He wasn’t going to leave unless you gave your approval.” Carla murmurs, as the three of them relax with his presence missing. 

Zeke takes the opportunity to take the seat at your side, filling the empty space Eren left. He leans closer, voice quiet as he whispers and nearly makes your heart drop in your chest. 

“Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to hold your hand under the table like he did.” 

You fight the urge to spit the water in your mouth straight into the glass – but swallow the shock and battery acid sensation down as you spare the two of them a glance ahead of you. 

There’s a twinge of regret – that at one point, you used to be like their chosen family and now it feels like you’ve allocated a lifetime of hurt to their son. 

“I want to start by apologizing.” you state. 

The two of them look up at you confused. 

“For?” Grisha asks. 

“Everything I did to Eren. I…I care for your son an awful lot, though it may not seem like that at times. And I hope that you know that even causing the smallest bit of pain is something that I have to carry with me everyday. Something I’ll spend a lifetime trying to rectify.” you state. 

Carla sighs, setting her fork down in her plate and crossing her arms against her forearms. You can tell that Zeke’s priming some sort of response against her just from the almost enraged look in his face and you make it a point to spare him a warning glance not to. 

Whatever wrath she had prepared for you was what you deserved. And just like Eren and Mikasa, you’d spend your entire life fixing it till it was better with her too. 

“I’m not going to pretend to understand what it was that happened between you and Eren. I can read news articles and watch interviews and documentaries but…it doesn’t exactly make sense to me. I can admit that. I don’t know why you broke up with him and…and I surely don’t know why Eren thought it was okay to say everything that he did to you.” 

“Oh. That’s nothing, really-” 

“I don’t understand how you guys can make these big, love confessions without even confronting each other in the first place. Because…you’re not together, right?” Carla asks. 

You bite down on your cheek. 

“That’s right. It’s just for the paparazzi, trying to build up the hype around-” 

“No, I get that part. But the interview, the documentary. You guys did that for each other, on some level. So I’ll ask again. You’re really not together?” Carla asks. 

You sigh. 

“No. I’m sorry. I…I haven’t thought much about that because I want everything settled before I even consider it. Being careless ruined everything last time…and I can’t afford to do that again. I want to be careful with his feelings this time around.” you state. 

Carla pauses, before standing up and joining you at your side. And you’re caught completely off guard when she wraps her arms around you, pulling you up until you’re nestled in her arms and she’s rubbing at the sides of your biceps. 

You forgot – she used to do this to you all the time.

“You…you’re a good girl. We’ve always loved you, always loved how Eren was around you, but…just be careful with our son, okay? I don’t want him to be hurt again and he’s sensitive, if that much wasn’t obvious at this point.” 

“I appreciate that. Really, I…I don’t think you guys understand what it means to me. And I won’t, I’m making my sincerest promise that I’ll try not to. He’s….he means the world to me. He’s been my best friend as long as I can remember and…no one is going to be who Eren is to me.” 

And for the first time, the two of them spare you a glimmering smile. 

“He feels the same way.” Grisha states. 

You sigh, offering the two of them a smile. And right on cue, Eren barges right through the door, the worry on his face melting as the two of you offer him a smile. You can tell that he’s a little confused – as he settles back into his seat and gives a questioning look to Zeke. 

The two of them return to eating, as you dig your own fork into the food and push it around. That’s when Zeke slides his arm around the back of your chair, leaning forward as he gives you a smirk. 

You can’t help but feel annoyed. Not in the genuine, hatred way, but in the same way you did when Colt used to tease you when you were a kid. 

“So…family that I chose now that I see your brother as my brother? That is about me, right?” 

You roll your eyes, sparing him a laugh, as you elbow him in the side. 

“I’m so sorry to break your heart here, Zeke, but that line in peace was about Eren and Falco. Not about you and me.” you state.

“Yeah, dumbass. She doesn’t even like you.” Eren mutters. 

Zeke feigns hurt as he clutches his right hand to his chest and groans. You watch as Grisha rolls his eyes in front of you and Carla fights the urge to smile at his theatrics. 

“You’re a bitch.” 

“Language, Zeke! God.” the two of them cry, rolling their eyes at Zeke. Eren rolls his eyes as he stands up, stacking all the plates and placing them at the island as you turn back to look at the group of them. 

You shake your head, laughing, as you thank your lucky stars at how comfortable it is, that you’ve floated right back into the ease that you always seemed to be in when you were around them. And Zeke too, for the first time. 

Zeke spares you a genuine smile this time, as he gets closer to you. 

“I think that you and I could be really good friends. We both love Eren and…and maybe we haven’t always done right by him but…” 

You can tell that he’s getting tripped up by the words, that the sentiment that’s underlying is something the two of you have never really shared before. A closeness that brings you together. Because for you, Zeke was always something you needed to protect Eren from and for him, you were positive now, knowing what you did now, that maybe Zeke felt robbed of some part of that. 

Getting to meet his little brother’s first girlfriend. Tease him about it, give him some brotherly advice – the way Colt did with you. That maybe he wanted the relationship that Eren and Falco had with each other with you, if things were different. 

“Yeah. But…we’re going to do right by him this time. We’ll make sure of it.” you whisper back, averting your eyes to where he’s standing. 

Zeke breaks out into a smile, extending his closed fist out to you as you push your own against his. 

“One thing?” Zeke states. 

“What’s that?” 

Zeke has a nearly murderous glint in his eye when he says it. And it fills you up with a searing feeling of warmth. 

“You give that asshole Scott Clarkson hell. For all of our sake.” 

You give him a smile back. 

“That’s a promise, Zeke.” 

--

Eren can feel himself sweating on the opposite side of the red carpet. The stickiness of the hairspray is sitting heavy in his hair, the collar digging into his neck, and palms embarrassingly sweaty as he stares at the group of people around him. 

Lana and Sukuna are fussing over fixing Connie’s outfit, Jean and Mikasa are taking shots at his side, and you can tell that Suguru Getou is truly cutting his losses at this point. 

Satoru’s wearing an outfit with literal, raw meat on it. 

“It’s camp!” Satoru whines. 

“That was the theme last year, dumbass. And it’s not camp, you’re just a nuisance.” Megumi grumbles, pinching his nose as he joins Eren at his side. 

Eren gives him a nod in acknowledgement, as he watches Yuuji at Satoru’s side, snapping excited pictures of Satoru’s meat hat and pokes his fingers into the red flesh. 

“Can you believe you’re dating that guy?” Eren asks. 

“Everyday I question my sanity.” Megumi mumbles. 

“Could be worse. You could be married to Satoru.” 

“Don’t remind me.” Suguru groans at his side, the two of them sparing a laugh. 

Megumi chooses to keep the comment to himself. He swallows, pointing out that you had said the same thing to the pair of them when Satoru dressed up like that godawful cat years prior. Megumi figures that he’ll keep this thread of your invisible string to himself, for the time being – that it might not exactly be productive for right now. 

Eren catches Levi’s head shifting towards him in the peripheral, as he looks over and tries to follow Levi’s line of vision. And feels his throat constrict as Ricky and Hyla walk past, the two of them sparing him and Lana a sickly sweet smile, and take their spots at the end of the line. 

Eren notes that despite the fact that you had side-swept all of her designers to work with you, naturally she still put together an outfit. He was hoping that it would be worse than it actually ended up being. Though he supposed the birthday girl would always get what she wanted in the end. 

“I’m ready to wipe that smug smile off of their fucking faces and I’m so serious.” 

Eren nearly jumps as he realizes you’re now standing at his side, your eye nearly twitching as you watch the two of them. But all he can feel now is his own throat itching, Ricky and Hyla the least of his problems as his skin ignites at the sight of you so close to him. Your flowery perfume is invading his senses, as he fights the urge to ogle your dress full on. 

“Y/N.” he whispers. 

“Do I look stupid? The underslip they had for the dress didn’t fit me because Hyla’s so much taller that they just…told me to wear this matching set. I feel like I’m going to be flashing everyone.” you mumble. 

“Better for you. You look fucking hot. And apparently, Hyla stole her dress from a piece that was already in the museum. I’m sure she’ll ruin it by the end of the night.” Lana states, as Sukuna joins her at the side and links his arm through hers. 

The two of them have matching stitching on their outfits, wedding rings sparkling on their fingers. Eren clears his throat, your eyes expectant as you wait for a response, and his head nearly spinning from the overstimulation. 

“She’s right. You’re beautiful.” 

“You can say she's hot, Eren. It won’t kill you.” Sukuna complains. 

Eren watches as your eyes widen, a soft pink blush running up your neck, as you avert your eyes. And Sukuna, naturally, ruins the moment by making gagging noises only to get smacked by Lana after the fact. 

The two of them shuffle off, giving you a thumbs up behind their backs, as you turn to each other. Eren links his hands in with yours, giving you three squeezes, as he looks down at the dark makeup smeared around your eyes, making your eyes appear even bigger and brighter. 

Eren gestures his head to the left, snaking his hand around your bare skin in the dress, and lines up directly behind Ricky and Hyla. And the two of you wait for them to walk out and follow directly after. 

It goes exactly how it thought you would. You haven’t walked a red carpet since the last awards show – and from what Eren told you – it had been years since he had too. 

It was simple. 

Seeing Hyla and Ricky at a carpet together was almost a given, almost too predictable. It would hardly spare a headline in comparison to you two – together. Years after the fact, with Eren’s documentary behind you. 

The clicking and the flashing immediately throws you off your guard, coupled with the screaming of your name, that you almost fall off the stiletto of your heels. But Eren’s quick with it, hands looped around your waist as he held you up against him. 

“Thanks. I-” 

“Don’t look at them. Just look at me.” Eren whispers, voice almost gravelly. 

“What?” 

“It’s better that way. Just act like you’re above them. Like you and I are the only people in the room.” Eren murmurs. 

You give him a nod, catching his drift as you follow his lead. And it almost works too well – easing your red carpet nerves when you literally don’t have to acknowledge them and just have to hold hands with Eren all the way down the carpet. 

Eren stops dead center, right before the steps, as you spare a glance over your shoulder. The group of them are following – Satoru’s raw meat causing a commotion at the start – and you turn back to him. 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I know you just asked me to get you a necklace for the Ricky thing, but I actually did ask them to design a custom one for you.” 

You smile. You had made it a point – that you were going to stick it to Ricky for that stupid night that he left you drenched in the rain – but you failed to consider that this would happen. Though in hindsight, you should have expected it. 

Eren was always thoughtful when it came to things like this.

“Really?” you ask. 

Eren nods, as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the little charm necklace. You take it in his hands, admiring the little charm at the center, of the planet Saturn. You frown, turning it over in your fingers. 

“Does Saturn have some connection to Uranus that I don’t know about? I thought that I was supposed to be the moon.” you mumble. 

Eren laughs, as he shakes his head and gestures for you to spin around. You oblige, moving your hair to the side and feeling your cheeks heat up as the paparazzi snap what feels like hundreds of pictures – of Eren clasping the necklace and then pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. His voice comes out as a whisper on your skin as he pulls you closer to him, the two of you posing for the picture. 

“I mean, Marco was always a big fan of immature jokes. So I guess it does?” Eren states. 

You widen your eyes as you press your fingers to the charm, realizing what it means. 

Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn. 

The last time that you were at the Met Gala was when you performed with Marco. You can feel warm tears accumulating in your eyes as Eren cups the side of your cheek, a soft smile on his face. He taps the little pin on the lapel of his jacket, a matching little saturn charm as you bite down on your cheeks and smile back. 

“He’s here with us. Haunting us from his grave like he promised.” Eren jokes. 

You give Eren a teary laugh. 

“Yeah. I think he is too.” 

You lean your head against Eren’s shoulder, as the two of you walk straight up the stairs into the venue. There’s a glimmering chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the stage decorated a sparkling silver. 

“Do you have a Maya Angelou quote for me? She always was Marco’s favorite.” 

Eren smiles. 

“I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refused to be reduced by it.” Eren states. 

--

Falco and Colt are the ones by your side backstage. You can feel your hands shaking, throwing the mic from one hand to the other, as the two of them lean their heads against yours. 

You’re performing for the first time in years. Since you performed the grudge, at that godawful awards show years ago. 

You choose to use the wall of pictures as a distraction. One of your favorite things about performing at the Met was that they took pictures of each of the performers and pasted them to the big walls behind the curtains. People would sign the walls, the pictures themselves – to mark that they had performed here, to immortalize themselves on the wall. 

And it takes a few seconds, but you find the picture dead center. Of you and Marco. The two of you are hugging each other, cheeks pressed together with pink, teary eyes, with your names scribbled in Marco’s loopy handwriting underneath. 

seven by y/n l/n ft marco bodt 

And directly next to it, is a picture you’ve never seen before. Of Eren and Marco – their hands clasped together – and the same loopy handwriting underneath with the song. 

“He didn’t want to take that picture. He…he made me do it. Said he should still remember the moment, even if he wasn’t at his best.” Armin states. 

“Oh. Hey, what are you doing here?” 

“Just checking you’re okay. First time performing and all that. And I was back here with you the last time this happened too.” Armin murmurs. 

You smile, lacing your hand through his as you both stare at the pictures of Marco and you wrap your arms around Armin at the first sound of his sniffling. 

“Well, this is hardly about me performing, Armin.” you mumble. 

Armin gives you a watery laugh, before pulling back and wiping the wetness on his face away. 

You frown as you lightly dig your elbow into his side, trying to gesture him into talking. 

You were a little harsh when you talked to him last – when you had to convince him to finally forgive Eren. You regretted it after, being so rigid and forcing him into it, but you figured direction was what Armin needed at the time. 

“Marco said that even though that moment was bad for Eren, that even though he felt like he was never going to recover, there would be a day that he looked back on it and would relish in the fact that it was never going to be like that again. I hate the fact that Eren’s probably having that moment right now and shit is still so awkward between us that I can’t even tell him that I’m happy for him.” Armin murmurs. 

You stare at the pictures. 

“I didn’t realize you were…with Eren that day.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I was. I called him a lot after the whole Girlfriend thing, he was kind of convinced that we all hated him. And I did the same when the whole Satellite Port thing happened too.” 

Armin pauses. 

“I was always there for him, until I wasn’t. And I feel like I’m fucking groveling but things still won’t be the same between us.” 

“Well, don’t lose hope about that. Mikasa and I-” 

“You and Mikasa are different. You’re…you overlook things easier than we do. Mikasa wanted you to be her maid of honor again after you said you wanted to sleep in her room – just because she realized you still loved her. Even if Eren knew I loved him, I doubt that would fix what happened with us.” 

You lean your head against your shoulder. 

“Did you finish the script yet, Armin?” you whisper. 

“What?” 

“Did you finish it?” 

“Yeah.” 

You look over at him and smile. 

“That last conversation? Between your character and his? He wrote that all on his own. It’s obviously a little bit more dramatic than he intends it but…the premise is still there. You and him, still best friends at the end of it.” 

Armin looks back at the pictures, running his hands through his hair, and ruining any semblance of styling in his golden locks. 

“You think Marco would be pissed at us? All of us?” Armin mumbles. 

“No. I know he would have loved to seen us all reconcile. That he would have been really happy for us.” 

Falco and Colt give you a gesture over your shoulder, as you shoo Armin back to his seat, and readjust the feathers on the sleeves of your dress. You give Colt a smile as he hands you the last piece of the outfit, the glittery garter belt that you wrap over your thigh as you take your cue. 

--

Eren gives you props for hundreds of things, but this one specifically. It was hard to find something that you were bad at, since it felt that you were naturally skilled at everything, but when he watched you, like this, he couldn’t help but feel like you were born for it. 

You really knew how to put on a performance. 

It’s pitch black, leave for your purple silhouette against the back of the stage. Of your fingers running across the neck of the guitar, playing the opening notes to the song Maki requested days prior – that you named Style. 

Midnight You come and pick me up, no headlights Long drive Could end in burning flames or paradise Fade into view, oh It's been a while since I have even heard from you (heard from you)

And I should just tell you to leave 'cause I Know exactly where it leads, but I Watch us go 'round and 'round each time 

Eren watches as you pause, the entire backtrack and music stopping, as the entire crowd jumps to his feet and starts hollering for you when they finally shine the lights on you. Eren watches as you give everyone a little wave, pressing your hands to your cheeks unable to contain your smile before you gesture for everyone to be quiet so you can keep singing.

And feels his chest fill with immense pride as you walk all the way down the stage, fingers fast and smiling from ear to ear as you sing again. He can’t help but feel embarrassed as the group of them – Connie, Reiner, and Jean – start smacking him on the back, screaming about how crazy his girl was. 

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style You got that long hair, slicked back, white T-shirt And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

When you reach the end of the stage, Eren watches as you slightly trip on your steps, before averting your eyes down to your leg. In the mess of walking and the notches on the guitar, a part of your stockings had ripped. 

Eren was impressed that you were still singing, as you reached down and took the halves of the garter belt in your hands, before you started looking out in the audience. And Eren can’t help but feel like in that moment, that some divine power might actually be real. 

Because three years ago, it was Hyla’s birthday and he was stuck at a dinner table thinking about you. About how he’d never feel that rush, that thrilling electricity that seemed to thrum in his veins whenever you looked at him. 

And he knows for a fact that really, it almost has to be real – a higher power that was looking out for him the entire time. Because years after the fact, he’s sitting here, blushing profusely as you throw the garter belt to him to catch, before you like down on the stage and scream your heart out. 

To a song that you wrote about him. 

Take me home Just take me home Yeah, just take me home Oh, whoa, oh (Out of style)

Oh, you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like And when we go crashing down (now we go), we come back every time  'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style 

--

--

“Ethan Cole! You’re just the person I wanted to see.” you state. 

Fresh off of the performance, with the little note card tucked in your hand, he’s the first person that you beeline towards. 

On first impression, he’s younger than Scott Clarkson by a landslide – beachy, golden hair as he stands from his share to take your extended hand. 

“Y/N L/N! Quite the performance up there, my daughter is a huge fan. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ethan asks. 

You give the girl at his side a warm smile, the girl barely above the age of fifteen, as you turn back to him. 

“You know, I’ve really missed doing romantic comedies. I’ve heard that’s your forté,” you state. 

“Is that right?” 

“As fun as Attack on Titan can be, the drama can…be a little draining. I would love to get behind you if you produced a romantic comedy that I could star in.” 

You watch as he pinches his smile, eyes strained as he looks around the room. 

“I’m not sure how keen…some people at the company would be about that.” Ethan murmurs. 

“Who said you had to do it with them?” you state. 

“Huh?” 

You give him the best, most sickly sweet smile that you muster. “Who said…you have to do it with him?” 

You pull the little note card out of your backpocket, with your phone number scribbled over the top, and hand it to him. 

“You could easily produce it on your own. And if it was a star studded movie, you could avoid the risks of being associated as a start-up all together.” you state. 

Ethan pauses, for a while. 

“My own company?” 

“That’s right. You’re young, younger than your competition, and with how things have been going lately…I’m doubt they’ll stay afloat longer. If I were you, I’d capitalize on the fact that your own competition is about to be eliminated.” you state. 

You can tell that he almost doesn’t believe you. 

“I’ll have to think about it.” Ethan states. 

“Sure thing, Ethan. If the situation was right, I could even be persuaded to get some of my….friends to join. And I know you’re a smart guy – there’s some publicity that other people couldn’t even dream of buying.” 

You spare a glance over your shoulder to Eren at the stage with Lana, as she takes her seat at the piano and Eren begins adjusting the microphone at the stand. 

“I look forward to talking to you, Ethan.” 

And you give him a sickly sweet smile before you walk away. You settle back into your seat next to Levi and Connie – who had decided to take Eren’s open seat while he performed. 

“How did it go?” Levi asks. 

“He didn’t buy it.” you state. 

Levi gives you a terse nod, as you shake your head and readjust your seat to face the stage. Connie pulls his seat up right next to yours, the two of you giving each other a smile as you link your arms together and lean your head against his shoulder. 

“It’s your song!” you whisper. 

Connie leans his head on top of yours, voice quiet as Lana starts playing the piano. 

“It’s actually not. It’s even worse.” 

“Huh?” 

You lift your head off of his shoulder to eye him, and he only smiles, deviously, in return. 

“Let’s just say if it was my birthday today, I’d commit a murder after this.” 

You turn back to the stage, eyeing the little star decals hanging from the little ceiling, and watch as Eren nervously shakes his hands, before placing them on the mic stand. He turns to his left, giving the group of you a smile, before he starts. 

“I wrote this song exactly five years ago today when I was twenty. I was stuck at a birthday party, with a bunch of people I hated, and all I could think about was how I just wished that I was somewhere else. And really, I was hoping that the person that I really wanted beside me, had some semblance of that feeling about me too. This is my new song, it’s called Glimpse of Us.” 

When you're out of sight In my mind

'Cause sometimes I look in her eyes And that's where I find a glimpse of us And I try to fall for her touch But I'm thinking of the way it was Said I'm fine and said I moved on I'm only here passing time in her arms Hoping I'll find A glimpse of us

Eren always claimed that singing was never his forté and even from the way he moved – you could tell that he clearly felt more comfortable when he was acting. That he most definitely believed that his talents lied on a set rather than on a stage. 

And for maybe the hundredth time, it’s clear that Eren’s own visions of himself have clearly limited him. 

Because he’s beautiful. 

The stage design makes it look like he’s suspended in the sky, in between the moon and the stars, and the lack of production to the song – the fact that it’s just his voice and Lana’s fingers on the piano is chilling. 

It reminds you of that song that he wrote for you on the beach. 

Eren dislodges the microphone from the stand, tossing Lana a smile over his shoulder, before he walks directly to the edge of the stage that’s closest to you and Connie. And uses his hand to gesture for you to come closer, as he takes a seat and dangles his legs off the edge of the stage. 

You can feel the butterflies erupting in your stomach as you pull your chair closer to the stage, right until you’re looking up at Eren from your little seat and he’s looking down at you. And as he sings, he reaches down and places one of his hands on your cheek – the biting cold of the rings on his fingers cooling the warmth on your cheek – but doing nothing to help the burning in your chest from his dark green eyes, filled with such warmth and sincerity that it makes your heart race. 

You bring your own hand up to where his is on your cheek and he gives you a dimpled smile in return. 

'Cause sometimes I look in her eyes And that's where I find a glimpse of us And I try to fall for her touch But I'm thinking of the way it was Said I'm fine and said I moved on I'm only here passing time in her arms Hoping I'll find A glimpse of us

When he finishes, you press a kiss to the top of his knuckles and try to memorize the way the smile spreads across his face.  

--

Your last chance to convince this cowardly idiot Ethan Cole to agree with you guys is at the afterparty for the Met Gala, which coincidentally, you’ve never attended. 

The last time you were here, the entire ordeal was so draining – considering it was the first time that you had seen Eren since you broke up and you were here with Ricky – that you just skipped the party afterwards and went home. And you would have done the same thing now, since your hair was feeling sticky and your legs felt like lead from the heels, but you had to give it one last shot before you left. 

You had taken Mikasa and Jean’s lead, and decided to take four shots with them, by the time the party was in full swing. And right before the fifth, Eren suddenly materialized after being missing for the first half of the party and slipped it away from your nimble fingers and downed it himself. 

“Are you drinking?” he asks, shaking his head from the burn, before handing the glass back to Jean. 

“Well, obviously not if you’re taking my glass.” 

Eren reaches forward, fingers on the little ribbon around your neck, before you smack his hand off. 

“I like the outfit. It’s like the scarf from the show.” 

“That’s the point.” you state. 

Eren rolls his eyes as you both lean back against the wall, eyeing the crowd of people in front of you. 

“You should have told me. I would have matched.” Eren states. 

“How are you supposed to match? Your costume on set doesn’t have something as…obvious like the scarf.” 

“I would have just done the titan marks and called it a day.” Eren mumbles back. 

You nod, mulling over the idea, as you reach for the back hanging around your shoulder. And luckily for you, your lipstick is still in the bag – though most of the time, the bags that you have on red carpets have literally nothing on them – and instruct him to crouch so you can reach. He obliges, flashing you a smile, as you intently focus on drawing the lines under his eyes. 

Eren takes the distraction – the focus that you have from drawing on his face – and uses it to observe you. 

“Did you like my song?” Eren asks. 

“You’re insane. Did you really write that five years ago or did you make that up?” you whisper. 

“Nope. I wrote it after the last Met Gala, I think Hyla’s birthday was like a week or two after that.” he mumbles back. 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, what you were hoping was actually true. When I was at that Met Gala, I really just wished that I was with you, sitting with the rest of the cast.” 

Eren laughs. 

“Who said the song was about you?” Eren jokes. 

You pause, only to look up to glare at him, before you lightly shove him. And you can tell that he’s joking but it’s still irritating. 

“You’re such a dick, sometimes.” 

“You were thinking about me?” Eren responds, closing his hand around yours and snatching the little tube of lipstick from your hand. 

He lifts his phone up, looking at the reflection from the screen of his phone, as he messily finishes off the marks on the other side, more messy and jagged. And as annoying as he is, it’s extremely attractive when he does it – capping the lipstick and curling it back into the palm of your hand. 

“You wish.” you respond. 

Eren leans against the wall and you join him at his side, the two of you eyeing Ethan Cole at the end of the hall, with Ricky and Hyla posted up on the other side. You can’t help but seethe with anger as you watch the two of them together, curling your hands into little fists at your side. 

“I saw that video that was going around on Twitter a little while ago. Of you and Ricky, last time you were here.” Eren responds. 

“What video?” 

“It was on the red carpet. He like…grabbed your arm and shoved you.” Eren clarifies. 

“Oh! That’s right. He was trying to introduce me to John and I said some crap about him to Historia. Then, he got all pissed saying that I had to be nice to him or whatever since he was nice to you guys.” you respond. 

Levi and Hange walk up to the pair of you, arms linked together, as you straighten up. The two of them had weary eyes, focused on Eren, as they look around. 

“Eren. He’s here.” 

“Who’s here?” you ask. 

“Scott Clarkson. He just walked in – guess he’s not deciding to skip after all.” Hange responds. 

Eren leans forward, angling his head over the crowd of the people, towards the opening at the front of the hallway and feels his throat turn to sandpaper. Eren clenching his fists so hard that he’s sure he’s drawing blood, the entirety of the conversation almost lost to him as he feels himself nearly losing balance on his legs. 

“You’re free to leave, Eren. We have a car ready for you. If you want to stay, we’re here with you.” Hange states. 

You look around to the other side of the room to find Connie talking to a group of people, none of which you knew. Mikasa and Jean are a few feet away – but clearly drunk out of their mind – and you can’t seem to find anyone else who could stay with him. You jerk your head back, to the two of them. 

“Listen. I’ve got Eren. Could you guys check that Connie’s going to be fine?” 

Hange and Levi turn their heads to the side, giving you a nod, as they speed walk to the other side of the room and you link your arm in with Eren’s. He’s still staring at the other side of the room and you lightly tug on his arm to catch his attention, his eyes almost dazed when he looks at you. 

“Sorry. Did Hange and Levi say something?” 

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay. We can leave if you want to, there’s a car and everything.” 

“No…no, we didn’t talk to Ethan Cole yet. And, it’s fine.” Eren responds, shaking his head. 

It’s not that Eren’s exactly scared of Scott Clarkson, though there was a point in time that he most certainly would be. It’s more that he’s intimidated by what could go down, because while Eren knows that he isn’t exactly being swayed by him anymore, it’s a debilitating reminder every time he makes a comment that sends Eren tumbling back down. 

“Lana and Sukuna are together. I sent Hange and Levi to check on Connie. And I’m here with you, so…so all the bases are covered.” you respond. 

Eren smiles. 

“You’re here with me? What are you going to do?” 

“Punch him in the face.” you respond. 

Eren laughs. 

“Are you crazy?” 

“Do I look like a comedian to you?” you ask Eren. 

“You look more like a clown to me.” 

You feel your eyes widen, as you turn to your side and find Hyla and Ricky standing right to the left of you and Eren. You’re not sure what it is, but Eren suddenly squared his shoulders back, muscles tense at the sight of them. 

“Do you need something?” Eren asks. 

Hyla rolls her eyes as she looks at Eren, before turning back to you. And her eyes flicker to the necklace around your neck, before she looks back up at you and smiles. 

“Cute necklace!” 

Eren grins at your side. They took the bait. 

“Do you like it, Ricky? It’s custom Tiffany. I had it made special for Y/N myself.” Eren asks. 

You watch as Ricky furrows his brow, slightly clenching his jaw and nearly pink in the face, as he rolls his eyes in response – very clearly understanding the reference. 

“I don’t know where the fuck you think you get off, Eren. Need I remind you, that while I was at the top of my fucking career you were cleaning up a baby’s diapers.” 

You watch as Eren’s eye twitches, knuckles white at his side as he doesn’t respond. And it only gets more agitating since Ricky clearly gets off on the fact that Eren refuses to fight back, and takes it as an invitation to keep going. 

“Seriously, dude. You started at the fucking top of the food chain – your parents are literally Grisha and Carla Jaeger – and yet you’re slumming it with Lana and Sukuna. Lana’s quite literally the biggest bitch I’ve ever met in my life. Don’t pretend like you’re both not trying to get your five minutes of fame by talking about me. And don’t even get me started on how pathetic Sukuna is for what he said in that dumbass documentary the two of you made. Donating to sexual assault victims won’t fix a lack of talent.” 

“Where do you get-” 

“Y/N.” Eren states, silencing you all together. 

“That’s right, Eren. You better keep my sloppy seconds-” 

Ricky doesn’t get to finish the statement, because Eren’s punched him in the face. Not once, not twice, but three times to the point where he’s tackled him onto the floor, a bright red decorating his knuckles. 

“Y/N. What the fuck? Get him to stop!” 

You know that it’s petty. That maybe if you were a little bit of a better person, you actually would have asked Eren to stop. But Ricky James was quite literally the worst person you had ever met and deep down, there wasn’t even a single part of him that didn’t deserve what he was getting right now. 

You crouch down on your knees, Eren momentarily stopping to look at you, before you shake your head and look down at him. 

“I’m so sorry, Ricky. I don’t think I can do that right now.” 

Eren smiles, as he lands one more punch, before a very drunk Jean and Reiner are able to pull him off – Maki and Pieck at your sides as they rub into the softness of your arms. You shake your head, signaling to them that you were fine, as Eren looks over at you over the accumulating crowd of people, and gives you a gesture. You nod, as Eren extends his hand out to you, and the two of you walk to the other side of the room. You eye the blood on Eren’s hand, all Ricky’s you’re sure, as Eren stops at the table and starts filling the cups with the lemonade. 

“We need a drink.” Eren states. 

“That’s what got you pissed off, Eren? When he started talking bad on my name?” you mumble. 

“I love your name.” Eren defends. 

You smile. 

“Though, I always felt like it’s missing something.” Eren adds. 

You roll your eyes. 

“And what’s that, huh?” 

“My last name.” Eren responds. 

Eren watches as a blush creeps over your cheeks and try not to laugh when you mutter something that sounds an awful lot like fuck you under your breath as he passes you one of the glasses of lemonade. Which is right when Lana comes up and snatches the glass from his hand and slams it down on the table. 

“Are you a fucking idiot, Eren?” Lana seethes. 

“What?” Eren responds, giving her an annoyed shrug back as he takes the glass back and hands you one. 

“You promised, Eren.” Sukuna responds. 

“You two can get your panties out of a twist. I didn’t break any promises.” 

“Do you think I’m blind, Eren?” Lana asks. 

Eren rolls his eyes, as he leans down, bringing his face closer to Lana’s. It’s the same thing that Colt does to you – on the rare occasions that he’s able to prove you wrong. 

“You made me promise that if Ricky said anything about Teddy or you, I wouldn’t say anything. And Sukuna made me promise that if Ricky said anything about him, I wouldn’t do anything, because it would upset you.” Eren states. 

That’s why he didn’t say anything. 

“Our princess over here didn’t force me to make any promises like that. So the second he called her sloppy seconds, I did what I had to do.” Eren responds. 

Lana’s eyes widen, as she turns her head to you. 

“What a dick. Are you okay?” Lana asks. 

“I’m fine. He said worse about you guys, I wanted to punch him myself.” 

Eren smiles, as he leans down to look at you. 

“Too bad. He’s getting escorted out on his ass now, so you lost your chance.” Eren responds, pointing towards the door. 

And surely enough, the security are taking him out with his hands secured behind his back – no thanks to the obscene screaming he’s doing – while Hyla looks maybe the most irritated you’ve ever seen before. She spares you one last glance, to which you and Eren respond with glimmering smiles, before she walks out. 

Lana gestures towards the bathrooms as Eren follows, presumably to wash his hands, leaving you and Sukuna by the table, nursing the little glasses of lemonade in your hands. And wordlessly, you extend your glass out to Sukuna – and thank your lucky stars that he understands – as he pulls the little flask from the pocket and pours it into your drink and then his. 

“Eren’s been waiting for that one.” Sukuna states. 

“I’m shocked you haven’t.” you respond. 

“Maybe before. But you know, with the kid, you have to be a good role model and all that. Plus, I hate when Lana lectures me because she gets really mean.” 

You snort. 

“I’d be scared of her too.” you respond. 

“Speaking of scared, how many drinks until he falls off?” Sukuna asks, pointing to the left. 

You follow his line of vision to find Yuuji standing on top of the bar, tie loosely hanging around his neck and pink in the face with Satoru, as he sings along to the music playing from the speakers. 

“Which one are you talking about? I think they’re both well past that point.” you respond. 

“Yuuji, obviously. I’m going to stop him before he ends up on a headline.” Sukuna responds. 

“You have fun with that. I’ll watch from over here.” you respond, as Sukuna walks away. 

When you scan the room for Ethan Cole, you find that he’s already looking at you. You give him a polite wave, positive that whatever Eren just did with Ricky James must have swayed him some type of way, as you lean back against the edge of the table. And the table dips slightly under you, nearly making you spill the glass of lemonade, when you find Scott Clarkson leaning against at your side, his beady eyes fixed on you. 

“Y/N. It’s nice to see you.” 

“I’m so glad you were finally able to learn my name.” you respond.  

Scott clicks his tongue in his cheek, before extending his hand out to shake it at you. You begrudgingly oblige, skin curling with disgust as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, and leans back. 

“I’ll admit, I had you pegged all wrong in the beginning. But I’m sure that you can understand, it can be so hard to trust new and upcoming talent like that when you run a big company.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” you deadpan. 

“I think we should let bygones be bygones. I even think that we could be useful to one another. If you really wanted full ownership of your albums back, I could get it for you. Just a few movies, here and there, and they’d be back in your hands.” 

You feel your throat dry. 

“What did you just say to me?” 

“I’m sure you know I am well acquainted with Danny and Sareen. I’m sure I could persuade them, after a little give and take.” 

You thank the heavens that the stylists had stacked each of your fingers with a perfect set of silver rings. You sure it made it hurt even more when you slapped him across the face. 

“You have some nerve, you asshole. Don’t even think about-” 

You feel a set of arms on your biceps, squeezing hard, as you turn your head to find Levi at your side. You shake your head, turning back to Scott, who no whas a group of people around him, inspecting the red mark you’ve left on his cheek. 

“Levi. Fucking, get off.” 

“This is not the time for this. You and Eren are leaving, you’ve had too much to drink.” Levi responds, pushing you out into the cold air outside the hall and near the taxi. 

Eren’s leaning against the car door and he quickly jumps up at the sound of your voice, meeting Levi at your side. 

“Did you hit him, Y/N? They’re saying that you hit him.” 

“I slapped him.” 

Eren pinches his mouth into a line. 

“Did he hit back?” Eren asks. 

“What? No. Levi started yanking me off of him before I could get another one in.” 

Eren passes Levi a thankful smile, before ducking your head into the taxi, and tuning back into your rambling. 

“He’s such a dick. He fucking had that coming, trying to offer me a career like I don’t know who he is and what he fucking does. Like really, even down to being an opportunist, does he really think I care about my album that was already stolen from me over all of my friends? Over you? I think he’s a psychopath and we didn’t even get to solidify the deal with Ethan Cole or-” 

“Okay, Y/N. Relax. It’s-” 

“We have to do something to get his attention. Something crazy. I have an idea but…you have to follow my lead, okay?” 

Eren’s slightly hesitant. Only because he can tell that you really are tipsy from the light pink tint in your cheeks and the way that you’re shaking your legs. But he hates to tell you no, especially when you’re staring at him so expectantly, waiting for an answer. 

And when you drag Eren into a sweaty tattoo parlor, Eren realizes that maybe you’re well past tipsy. 

“I technically picked what we did last time, Eren. So it’s your turn. Just make sure it’s something like…fucking crazy. Like iconic.” 

Eren has an idea. But he can’t say it. Because you can’t possibly get that tattooed. And he’s sure that it’s showing on his face, because now you’re giving him an excited smile, jumping up and down on your feet waiting for him to tell. 

“Oh my god. What is it? Tell me right now.” 

“Uh. The moon and the ocean.” Eren responds. 

You frown. 

“We already basically have that as a tattoo, Eren. With the fish? And I can tell that’s not what you were going to say.” you respond. 

Eren sighs. 

“Y/N. It’s too much.” 

“Nothing’s too much! Come on, it’s you and me that we’re talking about. We got fucking matching tattoos when we were like eighteen and released songs about quite literally fucking each other on the same day! We can get a crazy tattoo!” 

“You’re so crass when you’re drunk, Y/N.” 

“The word Levi used was homicidal.” you respond. 

Eren sighs, as he tells you his idea, and watches your face light up. And after the fact, Eren can’t help but feel like he’s on top of the world.

Because for a second time now – the two of you are running down the streets, bathed in the dim lamplight and laughing into the night. Matching tattoos of each other’s names on the inside of your lips, a confession on the tips of your tongues like you were two soulmates destined to be together.

That’s the moment you’re able to coin it. 

You’re head over heels in love with Eren Jaeger. Again. Maybe even worse, more desperately than the first time.

And as the perfect cherry on top, Ethan Cole sends you a message confirming the deal the following morning.

--

--

next part linked here

an: are you catching my hint for the songs in our next chapter.....which is an AWARDS SHOW CHAPTER ARE WE READY. and don't worry....scott clarkson and danny/sareen welcome to your tape...this next chapter is for you

(pls tell me someone gets the pussy joke that megumi made and that im not just horrendously chronically online)

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636

[mllenugget]

Hello I mcyt fandom-ified la Team du Lundi members and wrote a shit ton of text about it

After exhausting myself on trying to catch up on the current QSMP lore I got a sudden craving for a more familiar and fast paced kind of minecraft content and ended up rewatching all the Team du Lundi's SMP best of's I could find

And while doing so with my brain still hazed in fandom brainrot, I started picking up on minor details or info the players casually dropped, and drew parallels to the French speakers' QSMP counterparts This is going to be a long wordy post I don't even know what I am rambling about and for. Three things you need to be aware of about la Team du Lundi before reading :

Baghera, Antoine and Etoiles are the only QSMP players that are part of la Team du Lundi

As far as I remember the only two elements that suggest that la Team du Lundi's SMP could be canon to QSMP are Antoine being pressured into building another Tower of Shit, and Baghera's infamous fountain being mentioned when she was asked if her character remembers anything from her past before the island

La Team du Lundi's SMP was NOT a roleplaying server, it was just a private survival server for a small circle of friends casually playing together. So whenever I quote someone in this specific post, it is the streamer : there is no character other than the persona the streamer is usually showing on stream, but I just thought it would be fun to interpret certain situations while keeping in mind the QSMP lore. And here goes :

Baghera claims that when she was a kid she strongly believed that she could breathe underwater. The others joke about her having fins

Antoine jokingly tells Baghera he doesn’t need oxygen at all

Antoine claims he will still be alive thousands of years forwards

Antoine’s voice shifts when he wants to appear creepy

Baghera built an aquarium at her place, then helped Antoine build one at his tower, then built a giant swimming pool, then a fountain, then a waterslide- do you see a theme ?

Baghera knows that her skin is actually that of a chick and not a duckling, and calls it so here

Chat said that Baghera has a middle child syndrome, justifying that she bullies Angle Droit because Etoiles bullies her in the first place (Etoiles has also called her « little sister » in a derogatory way)

Etoiles has repeatedly asked people to play Valorant with him at least once

Here's a clip of Etoiles getting languaged in french and owing "a gifted sub in the swear jar"

Unrelated random clip of Etoiles because it creates happy hormones in me brain

Etoiles is regularly refered to as "the warrior"

Etoiles guided the whole group during an expedition to the End and he was literally glowing doing so (enchanted arrows effect) Everyone called him "the guide"

Baghera was the one who gave the final blow to the Enderdragon (and died from magic right after)

Etoiles spent most of his time adventuring in order to bring stuff and gear back to everyone for their builds

Etoiles asked Aypierre for help in order to design a redstone door for his cave which could only open upon solving a puzzle (which was egg & arrow related) (Aypierre was not a member of the server)

Etoiles built a nightclub with the walls and ceiling covered in wardenblocks making it look like a starry sky. He also rehomed Allays holding golden apples inside claiming them to be the souls working for him and that they lived there peacefuly

Etoiles jokingly talks about Antoine acting jealous and violent towards him because Etoiles told him he wanted to go and visit Kameto (who also was not a member of the server)

Baghera (along with Horty) had a rivalry with Joueur du Grenier (host of the server with admin powers) after he decided to build a massive parking lot right next to their house. They countered by covering the whole thing with dirt, followed by JDG building a factory and the two parties went back and forth. Baghera argued that it was stupid because they didnt even have cars to begin with (which is a sentence she reused when talking about Forever's roads) Also she tells JDG that he could've built a seaport instead, which makes JDG contemplate the thought of building an airport (and though he ended up never building it, I am side eyeing the French's plane crash)

At some point JDG wonders about what a roleplaying minecraft server would look like (RPZ 2), to which Baghera replies that she has a hard time picturing the thing "We'd all just build things you see ? I don't think we'd create stories, we would all just be like "I'm a builder, ah you too ? Well awesome, builders, cool"" and I find this to be hilariously ironic (fun fact : Baghera had no idea that QSMP was a roleplaying server when she first joined and often claims she would've taken a different approach with her character had she known right off the gate)

As I was finishing to write this down, these fuckers (/lh) decided to host a closure night for the server as they've never really officially did it, everyone just sort of deserted the server after a while. Baghera, Etoiles and Antoine kept referring to QSMP throughout the night, mostly talking about how weird it felt without mods. Among other meta commentary things

They mentionned Cellbit and Bad multiple times as the group was trying to solve enigmas. Antoine talked about "the cultural sharing" between communities as he taught insults to each others with Mike, Roier and Maximus in their respective languages Multiple more players were namedropped (including eggs) while Antoine was talking about how the server functions

Yes, Baghera and Etoiles kept their QSMP skins. Etoiles with his code corrupted purgatory one, and Baghera with her fading pink disheveled hair (with the addition of her cubito wearing Horty's merch)

Baghera admits that going back to this small familiar vanilla server feels like coming back home to your family during the holidays

Team du Lundi's cameos in QSMP :

Though Pomme has never canonically met JDG (even though most of her parents have talked about him to her at least once), she occasionaly breaks the 4th wall to refer to him. She once compared one of BBH's "vacation" flower shirts with his, and when Foolish and Bad asked her to elaborate (obviously not getting the reference) she proceeded to play JDG's music theme with the flute instead (Also I really feel the need to once more point out how mindblowing it is for your average french speaking viewer to have JDG's intro theme being added to the mod they use in the QSMP because of how anchored it is within french internet pop culture. Like this shit has been existing for 14 fucking years, it's part of the childhood of a lot of us, so to find a clip of British hardcore player Philza peacefuly listening to Mexican egg admin Tallulah play this theme on her flute feels like a multiverse fever dream)

Horty has been on Quesadilla Island through cc!Baghera's account, but neither of them really wanted to justify it RP wise. Baghera just wanted to give her best friend a tour of the island. Horty only got to meet Richarlyson who gave her a tour of Cellbit's castle and made her pick a room (she chose Chaos). She also chatted with Etoiles who tagged along for a bit and (this is obviously justified by it being a one-shot out of roleplay filler episode kind of night) they both already knew each other and were on friendly enough terms to bicker with one another Also she was part of the French speakers Quackity reached out to to invite on the server, but she had to decline because she was very busy at that time (and also not interested) Also also she was Baghera's teammate for that Formula 4 event, and Baghera has discussed it and showed pictures to a couple of islanders, including Richas who was very hyped about it

Another player the viewers were hoping to see on Quackity's server is Mynthos. He exists within the server with the picture of him that hangs in Pomme's art gallery, the cursed animation video that used to play in La France, as well as with Aypierre's health potion factory that bears his name

Angle Droit and Zerator are sometimes namedropped when the French speakers talk with their chat. Angle Droit frequently raids Baghera's and Antoine's streams, and though it has never been confirmed, a lot of viewers theorized that she was the +1 player Baghera and Etoiles wanted to invite on the server had they won the elections.

As for Zera, Etoiles went AFK on QSMP a couple of times in order to test some of Zerator's TrackMania maps (which he later discussed with Pac). I also remember a very trivial conversation Etoiles had with Mouse and Aypierre where he laughed about hurting his back very badly after carrying a fellow streamer during a caritative event, said event was hosted by Zerator (he's also the one judging them with concern from his desk)

I'm done.

Bonus alternative design for Angle Droit because at first I thought she was a fox then it turned out she was a corgi but then she changed it again to a fox and woop

[zombeebunnie]

Trembling Essence:💙Finalized Endings + route change💙

Hi hi guys and welcome new followers, here's how the game development is going so far! :]

Endings are being finalized!:

In very good news most of the endings I managed to work on have been cleaned up and finished!

The cave:

All I did this time around was fix some of the parallax effects and leftover dialog that wasn't needed anymore. This ending didn't have much else to fix and I like how it turned out in the end.

The bridge:

For this ending, not too much was done besides small adjustments to the dialog and some CG's. I couldn't do the parallax effect the way I wanted since it glitches when zoomed in but I found a way around this and I think it'll be better for the immersive feel. Other than that everything is done here! :]

The thicket:

I think I only talked about this one during the end of May(?) but this did get adjusted every now and then up until now. The only thing I need to do here is redo one of the CG's towards the end (Not the one I posted :[]). I don't really like it and I kind of want it to be zoomed in and have more shrubbery (Maybe even looking up towards the sky? :?), I'm not sure yet but I do want the area to look... different. This isn't anything that needs major tending to but I recently came across a image of inspiration for this. :[]

Route change + new background:

Here's a sneak peek of a new background I finished some time ago! This is from one of the paths you can get depending on how you interact with Noah. Since this version has a different outcome I decided to add a timer here due to the player(Y/N)'s apprehensiveness. Due to this I removed one of the choices that had an extra two endings here. I did this is because the symbolic meaning already plays it's part in two other endings. Keeping them would make it redundant.

In good news 100%*** of The swamplands is completed! (*I will however come back to certain parts of this area if there's anything I left out/need to fix up.) There's more I wanted to talk about but I'll save the rest for next week since this is getting too long. :]

If you like what I create, please consider supporting what I do on kofi! All donations and tips help tremendously while I continue to work on the game. Thank you to those that optionally bought the [Extended Demo] and the March 2023 demo on itch.io. :,]

Q&A / Ask box is open:

Giving more insight the lore surrounding the game and Noah have been very fun so far and it's given me lots of time to practice! To know and understand Noah through Asks and random posts about lore, they'll be under #Get to know: Noah :]

**Some asks won't be answered if it contains spoilers but I do appreciate what I receive. :,,]

If you have any questions about Trembling Essence/Noah feel free to ask here or on itch.io please. This makes it easier for me to see and answer accordingly! I enjoy hearing from you guys!

This is all I have to share for right now so thank you to everyone for your generous support while I continue working behind the scenes on the game! I can't wait to work on the cabin section now! :,]

[ganondoodle]

(while i am crumbling into pieces from cramp pain)

back when they announced the totk masterworks book i said i wasnt happy about it bc it would either

prove they thought all this was good from the start and everything went as planned

show us that they had unbelievable better ideas and plans but for some unknow reason scrapped it all

as it stands now with the concepts i have seen ... they somehow did both, some things seemed to have been planned fro mthe start (the whole focus on sonau/zonai stuff for example, which i personally just dont like bc i liked them better as an unkown mystery you never get to meet) and other stuff (like ganondorfs concepts, or the infinitely cooler castle in the sky esque concepts for the sky islands, instead of some nonsensical, meaningless little stone crumbs) was much, much more interesting initially (together with the interviews that said they initially planned to have the battery be a magic meter and make the sonau more magic than tech- but then decided to build their stuff around modern electrical devices just so players would immediately know what it was an what it would do -why????? thats so boring?? and unecessary ?? and they still give you tutorials for it anyway, multiple times??!!- for some ungodly reason)

it makes me more and more sure that this game, that took 6 years to make with most assets already being there (the same time that botw took to make?????????), went through a similar development hell as that one final fantasy game did where the director decided to make it an entirely different game every few weeks bc he saw something cool in another game-

its the only thing that makes sense to me, why else would it be so weirdly ... unfinished, its full of grand ideas badly executed, or like i said in a previous post, like an alpha build (weird! did someone in charge also see cool stuff every few months and decide they wanted it in there too no matter what so everyone had to scramble to try and put it in making the whole jenga tower fall over and over??), just to test how far you can push things, with placeholders everywhere, the same cutscene pasted in where another should be and a placeholder reason to get players to go soemwhere (fake zelda) and rough ideas for puzzles etc, that was never finished, jsut highly polished (in looks, sounds and presentation) in hopes of it being 'good enough' or players not noticing (like, take the underground for example, the idea itself is fantastic and cool as fuck, but its feels like an idea that was never finished and just barely fileld with some things to try and cover up the fact that it was never done, like a statue that wasnt done being carved but ran out of time so they painted it anyway- take the base map and invert it, put some easily accessible points of jumping down into it in random spots to test if the game can handle it- no time left to actually get that idea anywhere more specific and well thought out/put together, so its left like that, put the same texture everywhere, barely modified copies of the same enemies, and some little reward spots that make no sense, modelling three types of trees and an enemy camp is way quicker to do than actually making an entire new map (they didnt have to make it the same size btw, just make it big but unique caves, put the gravity effect down there in enclosed spaces! makes it less weird to have randomly happen in the sky! etc) but its there!! its in the game and if they are lucky most players wont go down there enough to notice how meaningless and unfinished it all is)

knowing they would most likely never admit to it though, probably bc of their reputation, is just addign to the frustrations i have with it :I

(i just hate to not know the reason for things, if the devs, who are usually the ones being worked to the bone for things they know arent good, where put through that bc some executive big shot threw their tables around every so often or neglected their project bc they wanted to focus on something else first ... id like to know, i dont enjoy making up these conspiracy (?) theories .......... but i cant shake this feeling, its jsut makes no sense)

[thenotsofantasticlifestory]

AFAB!Reader x Eustass Kid

Word Count: 3.7K

A/N: Finally the smut part back from this post. Pegging Kid, fem!dom, sub!Kid, Overstimulation, Facesitting, if you peg Kid you automatically get a higher bounty than him lol

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was about four drinks in when Kid decided he’d had enough. 

Here he was, sitting amongst the crew in an after-battle party at some poor tavern they’d taken over for the night, and plenty were already deep into their cups. He was sitting next to Killer who was quick to notice Kid’s continuous staring in your direction, a faint blush on his cheeks as he downed another mug of ale. Kid wanted you. More explicitly he wanted you to fuck him the way you had a few nights ago tackling him into submission as he lost himself on your fake cock. Despite far too many people being around, Kid felt the need for it burning deep in his gut. The sound of a mug slamming onto the table caught his attention as he turned to Killer.

“Your staring is getting a bit creepy Kid,” he said. 

Kid scowled, tearing his eyes off you and refilling his mug, “None of your business…”

Killer’s eyes went from you, drinking merrily with another few of the crew members, to Kid, looking like a blushing wet sop of a man and Killer had to know what could’ve brought his captain to this level. 

“What exactly did they do to make you so whipped all of the sudden?”

Kid took another drink, his eyes surveyed around him to make sure he and his friend wouldn’t be overheard as the alcohol was making him honest. Once satisfied no one could eavesdrop he mumbled something out to Killer.

“What?” Killer replied.

“I said-” Kid’s hand ran through his hair, fighting to cover the red that flushed to the tips of his ears, “I let Y/N peg me…”

Killer merely sat back with a sigh, “Oh, is that it?”

Kid snapped up, staring incredulously at his friend trying to decipher the expression behind his mask.

“What do you mean ‘is that it?’” 

Killer shrugged, “Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long to try it,” he took a sip through his straw facing Kid, “It’s great huh?”

Kid gaped for a moment before he found his voice, “...You mean you-?”

Even through the mask Kid could see the look his friend was giving him, he knew him too well.

“Of course, I mean why not, plus it feels amazing,” he said. 

Kid eyed him as he continued to drink through the straw before Kid took his own drink to his lips, draining the mug and setting it resolutely on the table. He rose and made his way over to you. It didn’t matter that you were mid conversation, once Kid plucked you from where you were sitting and threw you over his shoulder, the others knew better than to interfere.  He stayed mute to your protestations as he carried you outside the bar, setting you back on the ground before him, hands on your shoulders.

“Do you have your stuff?” he asked.

“What? What stuff?”

Kid ran a hand through his hair, “You know…the stuff that you used on me a few nights ago…?” Kid hoped he could make his point without explicitly saying it. He was still too worried about some drunk crew member listening in. Fortunately, you caught on quickly.

“Oh, that stuff,” the grin that stretched your lips already was sending a flush down his neck, “It’s in my room on the ship…why?” you added coyly.

Kid huffed, “Don’t make me say it…”

You leaned into him now, pressing lightly into his chest as a finger trailed down the solid mass of muscle, “Use your words Kid, you have to tell me what you want.”

Kid bit back the whimper that threatened to spill out, biting at his lip, eyes darting for any unknowing listeners.

“I want…you to fuck me…”

“Fuck you where Kid?”

His eyes closed, fighting the words but knowing exactly what you wanted to hear and that you wouldn’t cave until he said it.

“Fuck me…in my ass…”

He knew he had done good when he was rewarded with your lips pressing against his, a hand curled into his red locks as he moved against our mouth for a while, soft smacking sounds outside the rambunctious bar. When you broke apart Kid could already feel himself starting to harden. Your eyes caught an inn across the way and you motioned toward it.

“Go get us a room, I’ll get what we need and meet you there,” you gave him a brief peck before running back toward the ship. 

++++++++++++++

“Fuck are you going to fuck me or what?” 

Kid lay on the bed, completely nude, mechanical arm slouched off to the side while you gave loving attention to his cock, taking your time licking and sucking as your fingers danced along his hard length. 

“Patience Kid,” you nipped delicately at his shaft resulting in a hissed curse, “let me enjoy myself for a bit here.”

Kid’s head fell back onto the mattress with a huff, “You’re being a tease…”

You laughed, sending a long slow lick to the vein on the underside of his shaft, enjoying the way he twitched under the ministration, “so you can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

This clearly struck a nerve as Kid shot you a look, “I can take it just fine! Problem is that you’re not giving it yet!”

You pulled back up to a seated position and Kid’s eyes darted down to the thick cock strapped to your body. It wasn’t even fair to look this hot with a fake cock standing from you and Kid felt himself lick his lips. Something hit him on the chest and he looked down to see the small bottle of lube you’d tossed to him. 

“Alright Kid, you want it so bad you’ll have to show me.”

Kid paused, “What?”

You settled yourself comfortably, a loose hand fisting the silicon cock in a tempting manner, “Prep yourself, your fingers are bigger than mine anyway,” a smile tugged at your lips.

Kid had the decency to blush, fumbling for something to say before you leaned forward, taking the bottle and emptying some of the contents onto his fingers, spreading the slick around the thick digits. 

“You’ve fingered me plenty of times, you’ll figure it out,” even as you started to guide his hand between his own legs, Kid felt any resistance draining away despite the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. Damn you, who knew you were so sneaky? Working him up just enough to the point of no return where you knew he couldn’t say no even if he tried. You pushed one of his fingers against his entrance and Kid inhaled sharply, feeling your hand leave his as you sat back, a dark smile on your face.

“Give me a good show, Eustass.”

Kid huffed, shooting daggers at you with his glare before falling back onto the bed. Fine, you wanted a show? He could play along, just as long as he got what he was so desperately craving in the end. 

The pad of his finger traced his entrance, spreading the slick there as Kid contemplated the feeling. He’d never done this to himself before and using his own fingers had him a bit more hesitant, they were bigger after all. 

“Well?” you prompted.

Kid slipped a finger inside, biting back the little gasp that wanted to leave his lips, he didn’t want you to have the satisfaction just yet if he could help it. The first thing he noticed was how hot and tight he felt on the inside and a shudder ran through him, before pumping the finger experimentally. From this angle he knew if he wanted to get a better feel he’d have to spread his legs wider but feeling your eyes watching his every move had him feeling stubborn and frankly a little bratty. He continued to pump inside himself, the unfamiliar feeling slowly melting into pleasure as he felt his body betray him, legs widening of their own accord and he didn’t miss the hum of approval you gave in response. 

“Add another finger Kid, you’ll need it,” you said.

A breathy curse did escape this time, imagining the lengthy girth that was waiting to stretch him out and he slipped another finger in, wincing just for a moment before resuming that steady pumping. He gave an experimental scissor of his fingers and bit his lip, still not wanting to show you how turned on he was already, but the breath was coming in harder through his nostrils. He pumped in deep, relishing the tight feeling of flesh around his fingers and realized he needed more lube. 

You seemed to anticipate this, taking the bottle from the side and settling between Kid’s legs.

“Let me.”

You squeezed a generous amount onto him and Kid could feel the coolness hit his entrance still stretched around his fingers and shivered. He gave a few more thrusts, collecting the slick and using it to aid in slipping a third finger in he hoped you hadn’t noticed but the grin on your face quickly told him you had and he flushed at his own eagerness. 

“Doing such a good job Kid,” the slick squelching sound of his own fingers was loud to his ears as you drank in the sight, “how does it feel?”

Kid took a shaky inhale, working to keep his voice steady, “Feels good…”

He felt your fingers slowly stroking his hard cock and a moan bubbled out of his throat at the stimulation. 

“But you want more don’t you?” 

Kid wanted so badly to whine but he nodded his head instead, hoping that would be enough to appease you. He didn’t know how much more teasing he could handle and he felt as you removed his hand from inside him, your own fingers tracing along his sensitive inner thighs and he felt goosebumps erupt over his skin.

“What do you want Kid?”

He groaned, “You…”

“Kid,” your voice took a slight edge, pushing him to explain further and Kid felt the heat that rushed his face before he finally choked out.

“I want your cock…”

He heard the slick spread of lube across the phallus and shivered.

“Good boy,” you said, finally lining up with his entrance.

The first push in had him gasping, the fat head of the cock slipping easily inside as he felt that burning stretch that spread heat from the base of his spine. His still slick hand tangled into the sheets as he felt you work your way inside him, every gentle thrust deeper in sent fire through his body. He felt when you bottomed out, hips flush against his as you spread his legs wider to better nudge yourself inside him. This was what he had been missing, this feeling of being so stretched and filled and he swore he could feel the cock all the way up to his throat with how deep you were seated into him.

“Fuck you take it so well Kid,” you breathed out.

Kid gave a hard exhale, hips nudging against your encouraging you to move already and he bit his lip as he felt you pull nearly all the way out. Once you snapped your hips back into his, a groan ripped from his throat. You pulled out again, almost lazily before thrusting back in hard and kept a slow hard pace of fucking into him. Kid could feel the moans that spilled out of his throat with each thrust, eyes closing to lose himself in the pleasure of it. You leaned forward and he felt you take his chin in your hand.

“Eyes on me, Kid,” punctuating this with a hard thrust inside him.

Kid felt himself flush but obeyed, keeping his eyes locked to yours and when the next moan came spilling from his lips he was suddenly all too aware of your intense gaze on him.

“Fuck, harder,” he breathed, trying to turn his head away, the eye contact too much in his vulnerable state but you gripped his jaw hard, forcing him back and Kid felt his eyes crack open of their own accord.

“Good boy,” you said.

You sped up the pace, fucking into him earnestly now and Kid was breathing hard, head falling back and you let him stare up into the ceiling as you gained better purchase to push his legs farther back. He felt his hips strain against the angle but the way the cock was tightly hugged inside him had tears pricking his eyes. You hit just the right angle and Kid’s hand slapped at the sheet.

“Fuck! Right there!” he gasped.

You gave a low breathy chuckle, adjusting your hips before driving forward again and sending stars into Kid’s vision, relishing in the strangled moan he gave.

“Hold your leg back for me Kid.”

With just one arm, he managed to wrap it around his thigh, keeping a leg back, but it was enough you could hold his other leg while still draping yourself forward onto him with your free arm. Kid felt his hips be pushed further back, the cock grinding and pressing against that sweet spot deep inside him while you adjusted yourself. You saw the way he was squirming, hips lightly jutting to press back against you, to pull you in even deeper while you were already flush against him.

“So eager Kid,” you cooed.

He tried to growl but only a breathy whine escapes him, surprised when your free hand suddenly found purchase in his red locks and pulled hard. With his head pulled back, you left harsh little nips against the thick column of his throat, feeling his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. Your lips found his and he responds eagerly, mouth open and wanting between the heated pants that puff from him.

“Such a good boy,” you pulled back to let him breathe, seeing the way his lipstick was already smearing, “you like being filled and fucked like this?”

Another shot to his prostrate rips a filthy moan from Kid as he manages to breathe out a weak but emphatic, “Yes.”

Kid was blind to the smirk that painted your own lips, too lost in the haze of his own pleasure as your hips pounded into him, relentlessly torturing that bundle of nerves deep inside him and soon enough he could feel the hot coil in the pit of his stomach building quick. He opened his mouth to give some kind of warning but found your tongue tangling with his as you devoured the words. Another hard thrust inside him and the coil snapped, a series of breathy moans bubbling against your lips as he felt himself cum. You paused only for a second, Kid’s sudden release without his cock having even been touched caught you off guard, but you soon snapped back into action, burying your cock deep inside him and letting him ride out the orgasm. Once he collapsed bonelessly into the mattress you stilled inside him, allowing him to briefly catch his breath as you gave a peck to his cheek.

“Holy fuck…” is all Kid can manage out.

Still reeling from the effects of his orgasm, Kid doesn’t notice you settling back, keeping an iron grip on his thighs until you thrust harshly into him again. His head snapped back in a silent gasp, body still oversensitive and before he can think of what to say, you’re fucking into him at a relentless pace.

Moans and sobs spilled freely from him as you pressed him harder into the mattress, hips snapping into his already abused hole. His free hand grips the sheets before quickly moving to clutch at his face, eyes snapping shut as tears prick at the corners.

“Fuck-fuck! W-wait it’s too much…!” he felt his voice crack on the last word, before dissolving back into unintelligible whimpers as you pummel into his prostate. His body felt like it was burning, every nerve was still singed from his last orgasm and the pleasure is nearly to the point of pain from his overloaded senses. Still, he doesn’t want you to stop.

“Come on Kid,” you huffed from the exertion but not once slowing down, a bead of sweat trickling from your brow, “I know you’ve got one more for me.”

Kid managed to pry his fingers away from his eyes, feeling the intense heat on his face and saw his cock was already hard again, slapping against his stomach from the force of each thrust, smearing the mess of cum still on his abs. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take as he feels the beginning coil in the pit of his stomach start to tighten again. Then you wrapped your hand around his cock and started pumping in harsh jerks.

Kid wasn’t sure if he screamed but he can feel his vocal cords fray as sounds spill forth against the onslaught of pleasure. Finally feeling the delicious squeeze as you fist his cock in time with every powerful thrust has him spiraling quicker than he would have imagined. You saw the way his body began to tighten, focusing on the sensitive head of his cock with tight, hard strokes.

“That’s it Kid, now cum for me.”

The sultry pitch of your commanding voice, combined with the harsh treatment of his prostate and cock has him cumming even harder the second time. Thick ropey spurts of semen shot forward, further painting his stomach and chest as Kid gives a strangled sob, hand clutching at his face as he feels his head swim in a delirious lightness. You milked him roughly, teasing wave after wave of spend dribbling down your hand and covering his stomach. Kid was wheezing, taking air in big gulps as you finally feel him soften and release him. You worked the thick phallus gently out of Kid, who keens at the loss, before discarding it off to the side. Kid may have been spent but you weren’t letting him off the hook until you came at least once.

You crawled over his body before virtually sitting on his face.

“You know what to do.”

Kid was still dazed, his eyes hazy, but he complied obediently, hand coming forward to steady your waist as he brought his large tongue forward to delve into your wet folds. Groaning at the excess of slick, Kid doesn’t waste time burying his face into your cunt. Your hand gripped his hair, motioning him deeper into you as you rocked your hips against his face, Kid moaning at the action. The room was loud with lewd squelching sounds as Kid buried his tongue into you, grinding against your pelvis, the bridge of his crooked nose rubbing against your clit. He ate you out like a man starved, hand gripping at your waist with what little energy he has left. You could hear the muffled little moans of pleasure from beneath you as you allow your head to tilt back in bliss.

“Doing so good Kid, just a little more,” you rocked against him, nearly suffocating him but he’s undeterred, pulling your further down on top of him just to taste more of you. You’ve never seen him so ravenous, and as he works his ample tongue inside you, you can feel your orgasm coming up fast.

You cursed, feeling your body tighten as you hit your high, thrusting Kid’s face deeper into your cunt, but he takes it in stride, feeling you clench and drip around him as he works you through your orgasm. Once you rode it out, the tingling in your body starting to fade, you pulled off of Kid with a wet sound before flopping onto the side to take him in.

He looked positively ruined, chest still heaving and covered with his spend while his lipstick was smeared with your own slick that dribbled down his chin. You smiled down at him, Kid’s eyes, still hazy but starting to regain some semblance of focus, found yours and a grin pulled at his lips. You gave a kiss to his sweaty forehead before rising to find a towel to clean him off with.

+++++++++++++++++++++

The next morning, as they checked out Kid couldn’t help but notice the way the frenzied innkeeper kept darting glances at him, eyes wide. Maybe she recognized him from the wanted posters? The thought of it made him smirk with pride.

“Was everything- uhm- satisfactory?” The innkeeper asked. 

“Yes, very much so,” you replied, unphased by the curious glances the woman kept shooting towards Kid. 

The woman chewed her lip before speaking again, “I-I only ask because…well…some of the staff were worried something might have happened…”

That caught both of your attentions as the two of you fix her with a questioning look.

“Well, your- um…” she motioned a hand toward Kid indicating him, “he was, well, quite loud…the groaning and screams, we were just worried maybe he was hurt or worse…”

Your eyes widened and it took everything you had to bite back the smirk that wanted to split your face, especially on seeing the way Kid flushed down to his neck in a horrified stupor. Before you could respond, Kid slapped some money, more than enough to cover the cost of the night but he doesn’t seem to notice, quickly on the table before grasping you by the shoulders and hurrying you both out the door. Once in the street, Kid takes a steadying breath before he turned toward the docks.

“Let’s get back to the ship,” he started marching off but even from behind you can see his ears burning. You caught up quickly to him, a shit eating grin on your face as you stared expectantly into his flushed face. Kid refused to meet your eyes, lips pouting as he keeps his gaze forward but he can feel the satisfaction coming off you in waves.

“Next time I’ll just have to gag you, won’t I?” you said.

Kid nearly tripped over, shooting a scowl as you laugh at him good naturedly, but he has to admit, the idea of it appeals to him.

[rifari2037]

11. What do you think of the Zutara/Omashu reincarnation theory?

My thoughts on Zutara/Omashu are pretty much the same as this post.

When I first read Zutara/Omashu meta, I was like, "where was I all this time? Why didn't I realize this?" All the theories make sense to me, not only the storyline but also the artistic aspect.

But I don't want to look at just one side. Since I found out that canon shipper also represents their ship as omashu reincarnation, I read anti-zutara meta so my judgment is not biased. Who knows that canon shipper theory more make sense?

This is the comparison of the meta (and my opinion in Italic) :

The story of Omashu

They met on top of the mountain that divided their two villages...

Kat/ang :

Kat/ang parallel with Omashu because they are stranger who met and fall in love. Technically, Katara (and Sokka, don't forget him) met Aang on the top of the iceberg, just like Omashu met on top of the mountain.

Zutara :

Omashu met on the top of a mountain, which is a neutral place where two villages are not at war.

Zuko and Katara met in crystal catacomb that looks like the Cave of Two Lovers, in Ba Sing Se which is a city with the motto "no war in Ba Sing Se".

The villages are enemies so they could not be together...

Kat/ang :

Katara and Aang couldn't be together because of the war, just like Omashu relationship who literally impacted by the war.

But the airbenders and the water tribes were never enemies, right? Beside it was Katara's decision, not the two of them. If Katara didn't confused that time, they would be together even in the war.

Zutara :

Zuko and Katara's people were literally at war, they were enemies so they couldn't be together.

It wasn't their decision either, but circumstances that separate them. They raised to hate each other people, until their journey opened their eyes.

But their love was strong and they found a way...

Kat/ang :

Katara and Aang's love is so strong. They carried through each obstacle dan never gave up on each other. Their love strong enough to end 100-year war.

But as far as I know, their love is not the reason the war ended.

Zutara :

Zuko and Katara were enemies at first, so their path to being together wasn't easy. After Zuko betrayed Katara and felt so much regret, he had to find a way to gain her forgiveness. Katara had to understand herself and what she needed before she could forgive Zuko.

Their love (or bond) are so strong and they found a way to finally accept each other.

The two lovers learned earth bending from the badger moles, they became the first earthbenders...

Kat/ang :

Katara and Aang are parallel with Omashu because they are not the first waterbender and airbender, but they're the last of their kind - the last airbender and the last waterbender in southern water tribe.

Zutara :

Oma and Shu were the first earthbender, but they wore fire and water colour instead of earth colour.

But, one day the man didn't come. He died in the war between their two villages...

Kat/ang :

Aang died after Azula directed lightening to him, just like Shu died in the war.

Zutara :

Zuko and Katara were the reincarnations of Oma and Shu. In his previous life, Oma couldn't save Shu, that's why Zuko was always protective to Katara and saved her in dangerous situations.

Devastated, the woman unleashed a terrible display of her earthbending power, she could have destroyed them all...

Kat/ang :

Katara used a devastating powerful move only for someone she loved, that was wen Aang died in Ba Sing Se during the war.

But instead, she declared the war over... Both villages helped her build a new city where they would live together in peace...

Kat/ang :

Katara and Aang together built a new city with fire, water, earth, fan and sword.

But, which new city? As I know, the new city in TLOK is Republic City which was built by Fire Lord Zuko and Avatar Aang. I know Sokka is the southern water tribe chief and Toph is the police chief, but I don't know Katara's contribution there. She wasn't even present at the bloodbender trial.

Zutara :

Aang as Avatar did defeat Ozai, but the war wouldn't be end if Azula becomes the next Fire Lord.

Just like Oma, Zuko as the new Fire Lord was the one who declaring the war over. He built a new city with the avatar in peace.

It was parallel with Omashu since Katara didn't have a role in new city. She didn't literally die like Shu, but her absence represented that.

2. Colour symbolism

Kat/ang :

Some canon shipper (or all of them?) make an opinion that colour isn't important since the story of Omashu describe Kat/ang, but they didn't wore orange and blue.

I personally disagree with this opinion. Colour is very important in ATLA, not only about Omashu, but also in general. Each nation and benders have their colour to represent their characteristic.

That's why, if I say orange, you wouldn't think of water tribes but air nomads. If I said red, you would definitely be referring to the fire nation, not the earth kingdom.

Zutara :

In Zutara meta, based on the story showed that Zuko was reincarnation of Oma and Katara was reincarnation of Shu. 'Coincidentally' Oma/Zuko and Shu/Katara had the same colour.

3. The Position

Zutara :

This is an interesting theory. Not only they have the same colour, Oma/Zuko and Shu/Katara consistently have the same position.

In the story, Oma always on the left while Shu always on the right.

In every Zutara important moments, Zuko always on the left while Katara always on the right.

If it's just a coincidence, why does this position happened again and again? They could've swapped positions, but they didn't.

I was curious, did that happen in canon too? Well, from these two moments alone, I can already conclude.

I quote canon shipper theories not to attack them, I appreciate the opinion. I just want to compare canon and fanon theories so I less biased to know which theory I agree with more.

So Far, Zutara/Omashu still more make sense to me.

[naeverse]

The Beast Within - (2/2)

~ Ｖｉｃｅ ＃１ ~

𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 

(𝐎𝐜𝐭. 𝟏-𝟔)

----

𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦: 

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 

-

"𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘴 '𝘐.'"

Ｍｕｓｉｃ：

“𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴” - 𝘐𝘴𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘓𝘢𝘙𝘰𝘴𝘢

“𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬” - 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰

Apologies for the late post. October 7th (today/yesterday) was my birthday, and my older sister, @powerful-niya, my family, and I spent the last couple of days celebrating. So once again, my apologies, lol. 😅❤️ I hope you all enjoy the finale of The Beast Within. As always, it was a joy to write! 🐻❤️

Art was found on Pinterest. All credit goes to the original artists, designers, and photographers.

🐻staring: Beast!Miguel O’Hara x Explorer Fem!Reader

      ✒️preview: 

He cleared his throat, crouching down to your level as you sat on the edge of his bed. “My body is craving a new mate, little twig,” he bluntly stated, his face full of seriousness.

“I haven’t cared about mating in a long while, but you’ve reawakened the urge,” he explained, his hands constantly seeking to touch you, now running along your arms. “So for my… price,” Miguel’s eyes locked onto yours, taking in your emotions that were hard for him to read.

“I want to mate with you, humanita.”

❄️summary: The Monster of the Great Mountains was a tale that spread far and wide—a story of a creature that slaughtered anyone who dared enter the snowy peaks of the Great Mountains. Fueled by the growing fear propagated by the media, you decided to take on this legend. As a supernatural explorer, you sought out hauntings, monsters, and creepy artifacts, determined to prove to the world that they were simply tales told in the dark—nothing more. 

But with your latest discovery, you may soon find that not every story is just a story.

🖤tw/cw: Big Dick Miguel, Blood (Just a smidge), Body Worship, Cock Bulge, Claiming, Cunninglius, Dirty Talk, Gore, Marking, Multiple Organisms, Non-human AU, Olfactophilia, Oral Sex, Ownership, Pussy Worship, Scent Kink, Size Kink, Size Different, Riding, Violence, many more…

🏔️Pet names: Gusano (Worm), Humanita (Little Human), Terca (Stubborn One) 

     📘Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

 🤎 Word Count: Total - 11k, Part 2 - 7k words

🐻Click here for Part 1

‘What madness compelled me to leave this human unscathed, and instead bring it back to my den?’ This was the only rattling question that filled Miguel’s mind as he carried the unconscious woman against his furry chest through the harsh blizzard.

His narrowed eyes occasionally snapped down to the human, so small, fragile, weak. ‘I have gone mad,’ he concluded with a grumble, crunching through the snow as the blizzard raged at an all-time high.

‘Should’ve left her. Should’ve killed her,’ his inner voice growled. ‘Why did I pull her from the snow when the Great Mountains so clearly sought her sacrifice with that avalanche?’ The monster wondered, not understanding his actions.

But Miguel knew the reason—the atrocious reason.

This human was seemingly different, dangerously so.

Any other human, male or female, who entered the Great Mountains was met with death. It was their rightful punishment as the bear saw it.

But Miguel found himself incapable of harming this human, and it rattled him.

The snow-encased breeze lashed at his fur, causing him to tighten his grip on the fragile creature, holding the human closer to his chest to warm and protect.

It wasn’t long before his mahogany eyes spotted his cave through the blizzard—a well-hidden opening on the side of the mighty Great Mountains.

With a huff, he quickened his pace. ‘She’s ice cold. Not good. Not good for a small thing like her.’ He found himself worrying. Escaping the harsh storm, the beast ducked into his home.

Upon entering the cave, the beast was greeted by the warmth of a small fire—embers glowing within a ring of stones. In one corner of the large cavern lay a heap of furs and hides that the bear used as a makeshift bed. Collections of bones, logs, and trophies from hunts, such as antlers, hung on a ledge as decorations. 

The cave was completed by a naturally formed alcove in one of the walls, where the bear stored small items like bowls, containers, and his food. Chunks of dried meat, fish, and winter berries were kept and preserved there, aided by the natural cold of the cave and small ice pockets along the niche.

The beast swiftly moved along, and with great care— foreign to him—he settled the human down upon the plush furs. ‘Careful. Nice and easy,’ he told himself, afraid of accidentally harming the much weaker being, this sense of caution unfamiliar to him.

Miguel’s eyes roamed the unconscious human, taking in the sight of them inside his most sacred space. The bear wanted to scowl at the thought, still unable to believe he had allowed such a wretched thing to breathe another breath of air—inside his lair, of all places.

His clawed, calloused hand lifted to brush the drenched strands of hair from the human’s face. The beast marveled at the woman’s softness, so different from his own fur and rough skin. Like touching sizzling fire, he yanked his hand away, growling at himself. “What has come over me?” he snarled, standing up and moving away to start a fire, needing to distance himself from the puny human of temptation lying on his bedding.

“It’s a human—a lying, deceitful, and greedy human,” the beast spat, his blood boiling at the mere thought of the despicable little monsters. He had sworn long ago to protect these mountains from their clamorous fingers and to slaughter every single one of them, like they’d done his little one—his precious cub he had failed to save.

Miguel’s teeth clenched together, claws digging into the stick he held to stoke the fire, tearing through the bark. “Now one wishes to entice me—blind me with her—” The beast snarled, looking over his shoulder at the sleeping beauty, taking note of how completely still she lay. The sight was almost alarming.

His heart leapt, and he hurried to prepare a small broth and warm water over the fire before returning to her side. It had been a long time since he’d felt fear or concern, but the bear detested how his worry was for a human—the very beings that took everything from him and sought to take even more.

Glancing at the entrance of his cave, he saw the brutal winds and cutthroat chills, knowing the blizzard wouldn’t stop anytime soon. ‘She’s a weak, lowly human. She’ll die if she goes back out there,’ Miguel thought. But another jarring voice filled his head: ‘Why do I care? It’s a human. I should kill her now. Snap her like a twig underfoot.’ The words clouded his mind, but when he looked at her, he couldn’t will himself to do it.

‘Was it her appearance?’ The beast wondered, wishing to understand the reason behind his hesitance. His gaze ran along the slope of her nose, the fan of her long lashes against her flushed skin, and the curve of her red, parted lips, which seemed to call out to him. “This human is… decent,” he grumbled, unwilling to admit aloud his attraction to her beauty. But he could feel his body heat rising, not out of anger like he usually felt, or to warm himself when the mountains became too cold, but for another reason...

An animalistic want.

A shaky exhale escaped his muzzle when he finally noticed it.

Your scent.

Like honey, it clung to every part of his cave, flooding his den and clouding his senses. 

Sweet, intoxicating, and very, very dangerous…

The bear groaned, feeling an ache inside him that he hadn’t felt in years—an ache to mate, to bury himself inside a warm burrow and rut until he was content.

‘It’s her scent that’s causing this… indifference.’ The beast assumed with a gulp, a part of him wanting to lunge at the sleeping human, to take what he wanted and needed. Yet another side of him felt a sense of protectiveness for this frail, yet hated being.

“I need to stay away from her. Get far away,” the demihuman whispered, but found himself incapable of moving, no matter how much of a risk he knew he was taking by standing in her presence.

He growled, hearing the raving storm outside. ‘Just until the storm passes,’ Miguel told himself, gently reaching out to cup the woman’s jaw. Instantly, he noticed how small she was compared to his massive palm, his thumb tenderly tracing her cheek. ‘Then she’ll leave, or…

I’ll kill her…’

For once, Miguel found the latter as difficult as chewing through stone. 

The bear slowly became entranced by the soft rise and fall of your chest, your beauty, and an overwhelming desire to fully take in your scent.

Lifting your chin without hesitation, he buried his snout in your neck and took a deep inhale. Like the sweetest nectar quenching his parched throat, a feral growl rumbled from him.

His eyes fluttered shut, your scent so intoxicating it seemed to ensnare him, making him crave more with each breath. Sniffing along the length of your sensitive throat, his muzzle brushed your skin, each inhalation only making his cock throb beneath his gray loincloth, causing him to groan.

Drool trickled past his lips, dripping down his jaw as though he'd gone days without food. "Oh, Great Mountains, what are you doing to me?" he muttered in ecstasy, his rough hands gripping your shoulders to keep you rooted beneath him on his pile of furs.

The more he ravaged your throat with sniffs, the stronger his need to mate became, a primal stirring in his loins. The creature wanted to touch, taste, and claim, the restraints holding him back beginning to loosen.

A soft whimper, not from Miguel, broke through his daze, stopping him abruptly. Eyes widening, Miguel swiftly stood, his massive chest heaving. 'No, you fool,' he scolded himself, barely able to believe how quickly he'd succumbed to his animal urges.

'She's human. Vulnerable and weak. Not for you. Never for you,' he thought, jaw clenching as he watched you stir. When your eyes met his mahogany gaze, he braced for your inevitable reaction to his beastly form looming over you.

Your eyes slowly opened, feeling as if you'd been hit by a truck. Your entire body ached—a blend of cold, bruised limbs and warmth. A weak groan escaped you as your vision tried to focus on your surroundings.

The first thing you noticed was the jagged stone walls surrounding you, so different from the vast snow where you last remembered being. Furrowing your brows, you struggled to recall what had happened.

‘Greg and I came to these mountains to explore. Greg left me stranded, I made camp, then the blizzard, and then—’ Your chest heaved as fear gripped you. You turned to your side, locking eyes with a pair of mahogany orbs staring right back at you.

“What’s g-going on? W-Where am I? H-How am I a-alive?” you stammered frantically, finally coming to terms with what stood before you. “Y-you're—” You gulped, eyes wide as you took in the beast that you once believed to be a myth, now undeniably real.

The creature was massive, a blend of human and bear-like features, both alluring and terrifying. His chest rippled with strength beneath thick, coarse fur that lined the center of his pectorals, with a trail of hair descending from his navel beneath a gray fur loincloth. His broad torso, with large, powerful pectorals, rose and fell with every breath, exuding raw power and barely concealed aggression.

His dark brown fur matched the wild mane atop his head, and his furry arms and shoulders were equally formidable, veins pulsing along his sinewy limbs.

The mahogany eyes of the White Walker pierced through you, his gaze animalistic beneath his wild hair. His shadow engulfed you, his immense size and presence looming menacingly, making your heart pound in your chest.

You watched the beast, battling your fear and the instinct to flee while remaining on guard. The atmosphere was tense, as if you were being sized up by the predatorwho was ready to strike at any moment.

“In my den,” the bear answered, his deep voice reverberating through the stone enclosure, making you jump. Your body screamed at you to run, but how could you when your feet were so frozen in your boots you couldn’t feel them?

“W-why?” you asked, your voice so cold it was hoarse. “I-I…thought I was dead.” The memory of your near-death experience and the hopelessness that had gripped you came rushing back causing you to clench the rawhide blanket tightly in your gloved hands.

Your heavy coat, pants, and boots—once believed to be your protection—were now soaked through, the melted ice intensifying the chill against your skin. Despite the dire circumstances, you forced yourself to stay strong, staring at the monster and trying not to show your fear.

However, it was hard to ignore the stiffness and soreness of your body. If his intentions were to kill you, it would be all too easy in your weakened state.

Miguel stared at the human, finding you even more captivating now that you were awake. The sight of your small, fragile body filled with life, gazing up at him with those beautiful eyes, sent a strange tingle through him. He cleared his throat, shaking off the unfamiliar feeling of fascination as his thick brows furrowed.

“I pulled you from the snow, human,” he spat, turning his back to tend to the simmering broth of meat he was preparing.

Miguel didn’t know what humans ate, but if the broth was enough to nourish him, it should be enough to strengthen the fragile creature resting in his bed.

Grasping a hand-carved wooden bowl, he began to ladle the broth into it. The smell was rich and savory, and Miguel grunted in approval, secretly hoping it would be to your liking—before quickly dismissing the thought.

You watched the beast, recalling everything you’d ever heard or read about him. ‘But here he is, crouched over the fire, proving everything I thought was fiction to be fact,’ you thought, still struggling to come to terms with it.

But you were wrong. 

So very wrong…

You couldn’t help but marvel at the creature, his body brimming with strength. His large frame and powerful muscles flexed with his every movement. You found yourself wondering just how strong he truly was, whether he possessed any supernatural abilities, and how long he had lived in the cold, desolate Great Mountains.

The explorer in you couldn’t help pondering questions about the White Walker, but one thought above all echoed in your mind: ‘Why save me?’ That question rose to the surface again and again, desperate for an answer as you sat frozen in place.

Every story and legend about the Monster of the Great Mountains told of his hatred for humans—how he killed any trespassers, inflicting slow, excruciating deaths out of spite. ‘But… he saved me?’ You nearly laughed at the irony, though the coughing fit rising in your throat quickly stifled it.

You had been sure he would kill you—that he’d dug you out of the snow just to toy with you, waiting for you to regain consciousness for his amusement. ‘It wouldn’t be any fun to kill a human if they weren’t awake,’ you belived were the beast’s thoughts,

Teeth chattering, chills wracking your body, numbness gripping your fingers and toes, and the overwhelming sense of vulnerability—it all felt like torture, knowing death was still likely to come.

“I-If… you’re going to k-kill me, just do it,” you croaked, trying to maintain your bravado. Head held high, you stared at the beast’s broad back as he filled the wooden bowl. “I-I won’t… beg for my life, so g-get it over with if t-that’s what you want.” you said, your voice trembling with cold, though the terror in your chest contrasted sharply with your defiant words.

Miguel raised an eyebrow, surprised by your words. He had never heard a human so openly ask for death, much less demand it. Huffing, he poured another ladle of broth into the bowl before rising to his full height.

When his gaze met yours again, his heart leapt at the sight of your narrowed eyes and determined expression. Yet, beneath the surface, he could practically smell your fear.

It was… 

Captivating.

4The bear’s footsteps were heavy and deliberate as he approached you, his face devoid of emotion. “Drink,” he commanded, ignoring your previous demand. Miguel watched with mild surprise as your face twisted in anger, pushing his hand away and rejecting him.

“I-I don’t want that,” you stated firmly, surprised your arms were even capable of moving from their frozen position at your sides. “Why am I here? T-Tell me. Now,” you demanded, unwilling to let your questions be dismissed. If you were going to be killed, you felt you had the right to know.

A deep growl escaped the beast, his paw tightening around the bowl. “You will obey, or I will make you,” he threatened, his tone holding little patience. Again, he thrust the bowl toward you. “Drink. Now.” Miguel commanded, cradling the back of your head and bringing the wooden container to your lips.

The bear’s touch in your hair was unexpected, but strangely, not unwelcome. You glanced at the bowl of brown broth, the small pieces of meat floating inside enticing you.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you had eaten…

You swallowed, the warm broth soothing your parched throat, its smell alluring. Wary, you glanced at him before allowing him to feed you since your hands were still too numb from the cold.

A quiet purr escaped him as his nails combed through your drenched hair, caressing your scalp. He relished the look of defiance you gave him with each sip you took. 

Miguel felt his cock twitch beneath his loincloth as he watched your lips part over the container. He assisted, tilting the bowl to help you drink the broth he’d made for you.

The interaction felt intimate, watching your pretty eyes flutter shut as you slurped his cooking. The bear couldn’t help subtly stroking your scalp whilst you ate.

You hummed, finishing the broth, and pulling away with a sigh. Coming back to reality, you glanced skeptically at the beast.  The broth had warmed you, but you couldn’t wrap your head around the reasoning behind the creature’s kindness—if you could even call it that.

You couldn’t deny that the broth helped. The hot liquid soothed your frozen insides and tasted surprisingly good.

Not that you’d ever tell him that…

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you glared at the beast, clearing your throat. “Now, answer me. W-what am I doing here?”

Miguel eyed you for a moment, debating whether or not to reveal the truth. His fingers loosened from your hair, leaving behind a lingering warmth.

His pride led him to dismiss the question entirely. “All you humans do is take and take. Even when there’s nothing left to be taken, you seek to claim something else that isn’t yours,” he growled, his disdain evident. He tossed the empty bowl to the cave floor with a loud thud.

“I sought to cleanse my lands of you wretched beings,” Miguel stated, his mahogany eyes seeming to glow redder as his anger flared.

“And then you came.”

“Me?!” you exclaimed, raising an eyebrow in surprise. You chuckled, shaking your head. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking abou—” your words cut off into sputtering coughs. You hacked into your hands, the cold overwhelming you as you practically barked up a lung.

Miguel’s eyes widened, and he hastily moved to your side. He wanted to leave you to your growing sickness, but for the first time, he felt something close to sympathy for a human.

Grumbling, Miguel yanked the blanket off your body, revealing your drenched, cold jacket, pants, and boots.

“W-What are you… doing?” you asked between coughs, your voice weak. The bear ignored you, grasping the wet fabric of your coat and giving it a squeeze, watching water drip from it. “You’re soaked and cold. Not good,” he rumbled. “Undress.” The beast commanded, pulling away.

Your entire body tensed, your head snapping toward the monster in disbelief. “W-What?”

“Take off your clothes,” he repeated sternly, leaving no room for refusal. You shook your head and burst into another fit of coughs. “N-No… I-I-I’m fine,” you tried to assure him, not wanting to show any weakness.

“No, you’re not,” Miguel snarled, his brows narrowing at your defiance. “You and I both know you won’t survive another minute in this state, twig.” He hissed, looking you up and down, noting how your cheeks and nose were rosy, your face sickly.

The bear found himself cupping your face, his massive hand cradling your jaw. “You’ll get sick and die, little twig,” Miguel purred, tracing his thumb along your cheekbone. “The Great Mountains aren’t meant for humans.”

Your breath hitched, his body heat so comforting against your cold skin that you subconsciously nuzzled into his palm, seeking warmth. Realizing your mistake, you quickly pulled away. “W-Why do you care?” you asked, wheezing. “I-I thought you… h-hated humans.” You coughed.

Miguel huffed, his heart skipping a beat when you snuggled against his palm. “I’ve told you already, gusano,” he said, gazing at you, your scent surrounding him. A growl rumbled in his chest. “Undress… I won’t ask again.”

The threat made your heart drop. You met his gaze and saw he was entirely serious. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath, narrowing your eyes at him.

“F-Fine…”

Your trembling fingers slowly worked to unfasten the straps from your wrists, freeing your palms from the drenched gloves. You sighed, tossing them aside before beginning to remove your clothes. Glancing up at the beast, you noticed the flicker of fascination in his eyes before he masked it with his usual stoicism.

“Continue,” he rasped, his arms crossed over his large chest. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the zipper of your puffy jacket, drawing it down to reveal the soaked sweater underneath. You shrugged off the heavy coat, casting it to the cave floor with your gloves. The cold air immediately sank into your wet sweater, making you shiver.

You were about to stop, but the bear’s growl urged you to continue. Cursing under your breath, you gripped the hem of your sweater and pulled it over your head, exposing your bare, wet skin to the icy cave. Adding the sweater to the pile of clothes, you were left in only your bra, pants, and boots. You quivered, reaching for the blankets to seek warmth.

“No,” the bear said, gripping your wrist to stop you. “All of it.” He nodded toward the rest of your clothes, clearly expecting you to remove everything.

You scoffed, unable to believe the audacity of this creature. “I-I will do no such thi—” another fit of coughs interrupted your words.

Miguel growled, having had enough. He reached for you, ignoring your protests as his rough hands gripped your pants and pulled them down along with your undergarments. He continued undressing you, his senses overwhelmed by your scent, which intensified with every layer he removed.

After removing your boots and finally your bra, he left you completely bare on his fur bedding.

“That wasn’t so hard, human,” he rumbled, his gaze sweeping over your nude form, his heart dropping.

Your body was a vision of perfection upon his bed. Your skin, pale from the cold with a patchwork of bruises, bore the harsh marks of the avalanche. The purplish-blue splotches trailed along your hips, thighs, and arms where the snow and debris had pummeled you. 

Miguel could see the tiny hairs standing on end on your legs and arms, your body trying desperately to generate heat in its exposed state.

He watched your chest rise and fall rapidly, the cool air brushing over your sensitive skin as the ethereal curves of your body lay vulnerable and on display before the beastly creature. 

Your nipples, hardened from the cold, stood out against the soft flesh of your breasts, and the faint shadows of muscles you had built from years of exploration were evident as your stomach tensed, drawn in from the chill.

Miguel noticed blotches of redness along your skin where your wet clothes had clung tightly. The beast wanted nothing more than to lick your wounds, bruise after bruise, and ravish your body until he was satisfied.

The growing ache in the pit of his stomach intensified—the urge to grasp the small human and do what he should have done the moment he rescued you from the avalanche. But he had to stop himself. 

‘She's small, fragile. Not for you,’ he reminded himself once more. 

No matter how beautiful you looked lying upon his bedding, Miguel must quell the need inside of him.

In a mixture of embarrassment and shock, you swiftly grabbed the rawhide blanket, tugging it over your body. You had never felt so humiliated, laying completely bare before a being you had once denied existed, feeling weak—a feeling you were not used to.

“H-Happy?” you shivered, trying to keep an authoritative tone in your voice. Yet, oddly, a warmth in your gut found his gaze of desire to be… 

Interesting…

Miguel didn't respond, instead, he picked up your clothes and boots, and swiftly moved to hang them by the fire.

He needed to distance himself from you before he lost control.

You studied him, your fingers toying with the fur on the blanket. You had so many questions and wondered if the mysterious creature would answer any of them. “Do you have a name?” you inquired, hoping for an easy question he’d answer.

Hugging the rawhide tightly over your body, you awaited his response, wishing he’d give you something useful.

Miguel ran his palm along your drenched sweater, smoothing it out where it hung. “Miguel,” he replied gruffly.

“Miguel…” You whispered his name, trying it out, but the sound of it on your lips stirred something under his loincloth. “What is yours, terca?” Miguel asked, secretly wanting to know yours as well.

“Y/N,” you said, feeling the discomfort of your wet hair sticking to the back of your neck and shoulders. Reaching up, you gave the heavily soaked strands a squeeze to relieve them of water, your movements sluggish.

The bear watched you closely, hearing the unique name. “Y/N,” he muttered so softly you couldn’t hear, his fascination evident.

Miguel hated the interest he felt for you—a human. He was supposed to hate all humans, the same creatures who had raided his lands and killed his little girl. 

He wasn’t meant to feel anything for you, so why did he?

He huffed, picking up a nearby stick to stoke the fire, needing to occupy his hands.

‘Miguel... I didn’t expect it to have a name,’ you thought, unable to help but track the beast’s movements. His furry, defined backside was to you, his gray loincloth hugging his waist tightly. The muscular curves of his thighs and legs were heavily accentuated beneath his fur as he crouched before the flames.

“What are you?” you asked, fascinated by the creature and wanting to know more about him.

Miguel scoffed, irritation clear in his deep voice. “Why don't you tell me, human? Your kind seems to be all-knowing,” he retorted.

You rolled your eyes, now comfortably warm under the blanket since your soaked layers were removed. ‘Perhaps the creature knows a thing or two,’ you thought, but his lack of answers was starting to irritate you.

“Will you tell me anything, or will you keep me here without reason?” you asked, no longer wanting to beat around the bush.

“I'll decide your fate when the storm passes, twig,” he snapped, glancing back at you from the fire.

The beast grunted, his turn to ask questions. “Why did you come here?” he inquired, standing to his full, towering height, tossing the stick aside. “What foolish ideals led you to me?”

Despite the ominous tone of his words, you gazed up at him without the fear you had felt before. You couldn't explain it, but you felt like he wouldn't hurt you.

“For you,” you confessed, hoping your answer might earn you some in return.

“I came here with a colleague to prove that the ‘Monster in the Great Mountains’ was false,” you chuckled, looking him up and down. “And I must say, I'm not used to being wrong.”

Miguel’s mahogany eyes widened for a moment, surprised by your answer. He stared at you, letting it sink in. “And why were you seeking me? I could have killed you in your ‘search,’” he smirked, remembering the fate of the last human who came for exploration, seeking him and their fate.

You shrugged. “I was seeking a good story—a journal entry to show the tales of you were just that: tales. I didn't believe—didn’t even think you were… real,” you sighed, meeting his eyes.

Miguel chortled, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Foolish, just like the rest of them,” he spat, hoping to uncover why you were different—why he couldn’t kill you—but finding only similarities to the other humans he had encountered.

"You do things without thinking, putting yourself in danger just for the sake of proving truths—or tales—false?"The beast scoffed, shaking his head, his brown mane swaying with the movement. “I'm surprised your kind hasn't killed itself off with your idiocy.”

You huffed, feeling attacked. “And what makes you so great?” you shot back, turning to sit on the edge of the bedding, glaring daggers at him. Your hand gripping the blanket that encased your body tightly all the while.

“You’re a lone beast that roams a mountain of snow, only existing to kill a race you deem weaker!” you spat angrily. “Who gives you the right to play judge, jury, and executioner!?” 

“Watch your tongue, mortal!” 

Miguel roared, suddenly looming over you in the blink of an eye. “You know nothing of what you speak.” He growled. “So unless you wish to become another sacrifice to the mountains, I'll cease your senseless speech,” he threatened, his claws itching to hurt you, though he knew he really couldn’t.

You gulped, realizing you might have gone too far, but you couldn’t stop. “Why? Is it true?” you pressed, noticing his red eyes and heavy breathing. “You’ve killed enough humans to cover the Great Mountains, and yet, I stand before you. Why?” You demanded, the intensity between you and the beast growing. “Why am I still alive? Why haven’t you killed me like all the others?”

Miguel held your gaze, your questions cutting into him like shards of ice.

Never had he met a human like you—someone who could match his temper, who wasn’t afraid of him, and who returned his anger just as much as he gave. 

It made him as hard as stone.

“Why?” he rasped, his paw reaching to grab the back of your head, fingers sinking into your drenched hair. Miguel loved how your stern gaze never faltered, and you didn’t flinch.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Miguel confessed for the first time in your presence.

Your eyes widened as his touch was surprisingly gentle, cradling your head like you were made of glass. “I don’t… understand,” you uttered, brows furrowed.

“Neither do I,” the beast replied, leaning in close.

“I thought it was your appearance,” he purred, tracing his claws along your face. “Then I thought it was your scent,” Miguel muttered, lifting your chin and running his snout along your throat, inhaling your sweet aroma, which made him ravenous.

But that wasn’t it.

“Then, you spoke to me with little to no fear,” he growled, moving up to your ear, nuzzling your skin and savoring the shaky exhale that escaped you. “I’ve never had a human speak to me like that. It’s... 

Intoxicating.”

The creature’s closeness and body heat made your heart flutter, his touch hypnotizing you. Yet, you were puzzled as to why you felt this way for a killer beast of all things.

‘Am I dreaming?’ you wondered, questioning if the beast’s existence was just a hallucination—that you were sicker than you believed.

The bear pulled away, his mahogany eyes now burning a deep red, full of desire. His rough fingers traced your lips, nose, and jaw as if studying every aspect of you.

The creature’s behavior sent shivers through you, the sensations too real to be a hallucination, though you wondered if you were truly lost.

You bit your lip, eyes roaming over his beastly and human features, trying to uncover the reason behind your shared fascination. Then it hit you—

You were the first.

You, Y/N, the infamous supernatural explorer, were the first to meet Miguel—the White Walker and Monster of the Great Mountains.

Before you, no one had set foot in the Great Mountains without facing death, let alone seeing him and feeling his curious strokes along your cheeks.

Miguel was a mystery, and not only could you confirm his existence, but you could be the first to discover all of him, if you so chose to.

You observed the beast, secretly admiring how gentle he was when touching you—his fingers featherlight along your ears. “Then perhaps…” you began, his hand stilling on your hair as he ran your strands between his forefinger and thumb.

You smiled, looking him up and down, noticing his hardened eight-pack and the scars that decorated his chest, with some hidden under his furred arms. “Perhaps I’ll let you find the answer to your questions, if you allow me to do the same,” you offered.

Miguel’s thick eyebrows furrowed, withdrawing his fingers from your hair. He was intrigued by your proposal, his animalistic urges wild beneath his skin, but he was also…

Afraid.

“My questions come with a price,” his deep voice replied, eyeing your smaller body and wondering how intimacy between you could occur without harm.

“As do mine,” you retorted with a smirk, enjoying how your words surprised the beast. “Name your price.”

Miguel grunted, admiring your confidence. He felt his body responding more and more to your bravery, something nearly all humans he’d met previously lacked.

He cleared his throat, crouching down to your level as you sat on the edge of his bed. “My body is craving a new mate, little twig,” he bluntly stated, his face full of seriousness.

“I haven’t cared about mating in a long while, but you’ve reawakened the urge,” he explained, his hands constantly seeking to touch you, now running along your arms. “So for my… price,” Miguel’s eyes locked onto yours, taking in your emotions that were hard for him to read.

“I want to mate with you, humanita.”

Disbelief coursed through you.

‘Mate? He wants to mate… with me?!’ you thought, though your face masked your true feelings well.

You could see the need in his gaze, the way his chest heaved and shaky, rumbling exhales escaped him.

Although you hesitated at the thought of such an act with the large, killer beast, your desire for knowledge and discovery outweighed everything.

“Okay, you have yourself a deal, Miguel,” you grinned, testing the waters by running a finger along the slope of his defined cheekbone, feeling him stiffen at your touch. “Only if you’re okay with me studying you in the process.”

Miguel groaned, leaning into your touch as the anger and aggression—emotions that always simmered within him—were quelled by your presence and soft strokes.

"I'm fine with your… observations, human," Miguel grumbled, grasping the blanket you used to conceal your body, preparing to rip it free.

His arousal heightened when your hand loosened, allowing him to remove the fur shield.

You felt the beast slowly draw the rawhide fabric from your being, exposing your bare self to him in all its glory.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as the bear stood in awe, hand still holding the blanket, completely frozen. "I take it you've never seen a human this way?" 

Miguel licked his lips, a slight scoff escaping him. "I’ve never cared to," he muttered, dropping the hide and advancing toward you.

His massive hands grasped your breasts first, swallowing the soft flesh in his palms. The bear sniffed and licked at your shoulder and neck, familiarizing himself with your scent.

"You are so small, little human. I fear I may harm you," the beast admitted, voicing his concerns. His grip on your chest was gentle, brushing over your nipples with his thumbs with tender swipes.

You moaned, your back arching into his palms. Running your nails through his hair, you tugged gently. "Hmm… who knew you were such a gentle bear, Miguel?" you teased, grinning as his eyes darkened.

"Gentle… bear?" The beast repeated, a challenge in his gaze. With a snarl, he pushed you back onto his bedding, engulfing you in an instant with his body of muscles and fur.

You couldn’t help but laugh, provoking him quickly becoming your new favorite game. "Yes, quite a gentle one for a killer beast," you giggled, humming softly as he ran a flat tongue along the pulse point of your neck.

Miguel was slowly losing himself, needing the reminder that his new mate was human to keep him grounded. Yet, despite how foreign the word "gentle" felt, he found himself liking it when it came from your lips.

"Sí, I can be… gentle," he whispered gruffly, trailing down your body, following the alluring scent that had tempted him since he pulled you from the snow.

Miguel gave your inner thighs a nip, smirking when you jolted. "Así que, considérate afortunada, pequeña humanita," he purred, feeling his shaft pressing against the gray fur of his loincloth at the scent of your arousal.

Your eyes fluttered, fingers stroking his hair and ears from atop his head. You gasped at the sensation of his nose pressing against your core, seeking to smell your readiness.

“F-fuck...” you cursed, your head falling back on the fur bed, legs spreading wider for him.

Repeatedly, you glanced down, still in disbelief that it was truly a massive bear causing such pleasure. The situation was surreal, and you couldn't help but think, ‘Shit, this would make one hell of a journal entry.’ 

You bit your lip, savoring how the mysterious creature was making you feel so incredibly good.

Miguel lapped at your core, his tongue teasing your clit while exploring every inch of your intimate area. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, keeping them spread as he continued his feast.

Like the beast he was, he ravaged his new mate—suckling, nipping, and licking your entrance. His tongue tasted your wetness, loving how you dripped for him and how your grip tightened in his hair.

Your body writhed and squirmed, feeling like the bear was everywhere at once. His teeth grazed your thighs, leaving love bites, while he suckled your swollen clit and lapped at your entrance. The sensations overwhelmed you, and it wasn’t long before that familiar burning built in your belly, only to explode just as quickly.

You choked back a moan, your body writhing in bliss, feeling weightless as the beast devoured every drop you gave him.

But even after you climaxed, Miguel couldn’t get enough of you. You smelled so good, tasted even better, and his tongue trailed along your trembling thighs, marking them with his scent and teeth, wanting all to know you were his new mate.

The bear found himself content to stay between your legs, basking in your heat and scent until the end of his days. And he would have…

Had his cock not demanded your attention.

Miguel pulled away, your scent still clinging to his snout. His clawed hands didn’t hesitate to rip his fur loincloth away, revealing his massive, drooling shaft.

Your dazed eyes widened at the sight of it, the fogginess of your mind vanishing in an instant. You knew for certain that he wouldn’t fit. “You are rather… big,” you remarked with a nervous chuckle, trying to mask your anxiousness.

The beast glanced down at his own shaft, a breathy laugh escaping him for the first time in a long while. “Sí, it is,” he smirked, grabbing your ankles and pulling you closer to the edge of the bed with ease.

You yelped at his strength, your body sliding effortlessly like you weighed nothing. Gasping, you felt his heavy shaft rest against your stomach.

Swallowing hard, you realized, like always, you might have bitten off more than you could chew, but the ache of desire coursing through you was undeniable—and very enticing.

The beast’s shaft was unlike anything you had ever seen. It was long and equally girthy, with a pink tip and a dark brown base that matched his fur. His balls were large and hairy, about the size of two grapefruits, hanging heavily at the base of his impressive length. The veins along his member throbbed, and pre-cum dripped steadily from his shaft, showing his evident need.

“Don’t lose your confidence now, little twig,” he purred, resting his large hands on either side of your head, the pile of furs sinking beneath you under his weight. “It’s what makes you so delectable,” the beast rasped into your ear, tugging at your earlobe with his sharp teeth.

You scoffed, masking your hesitation with a layer of false courage. “Who said I was afraid, beast?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you reached down to grip the massive cock in your hand, giving it a few strokes. You bit your lip, surprised at its weight.

“Let me take control, Miguel,” you said with a naughty grin, looking up at the beast while working him over with your hand. “Let me show you just how strong a human can be.”

Miguel’s mind turned to mush, a rush of pleasure and need causing him to drool slightly. His little human—his mate—was very brave and bold, something he had grown to adore.

“Está bien,” he uttered breathlessly, thrusting one last time into your soft palm before pulling away to stand over your prone body. 

For the first time, Miguel looked to someone else for direction.

Pleased, you rose up, noting the size difference as your head tilted back to maintain eye contact. Taking his hand, you guided him to lie down on the pile of furs, watching as his muscular form sank into the soft fabrics.

Miguel’s red eyes followed your every move, wary of what you had planned. “Careful, humanita,” he warned, feeling his worry rising again. “I do not wish to harm you,” he muttered, watching you climb on top of him like you were scaling the Great Mountains themselves.

You giggled, balancing perfectly on Miguel’s bulging thighs. “Where’s your confidence gone, mighty protector?” you teased, his cock fully erect and smacking against your belly at your taunt. “It’s what made you delectable,” you laughed, smearing his pre-cum along his tip with your thumb, eliciting a sexy growl from him.

“Besides, I can handle it,” you boldly told him, determined to prove it. 

To both Miguel’s and your surprise, you were capable of doing just that.

The beast watched you in sheer amazement as you took his length inside your small body. Animalistic roars and unintelligible words escaped him while you rode him, bouncing on his monster of a cock as if you’d done it countless times before.

His rough paws reached for your waist, his large hands practically enclosing around your center, guiding your movements. Sharp tingles of pleasure surged through his body, leaving him trembling and growling beneath you.

You whimpered, feeling like you’d gone mad with lust at how good his massive cock felt inside you, stretching you to the extreme. “O-Oh, fuck,” was the constant mantra you repeated, curse after curse spilling from your panting mouth with every bounce on his hips.

Miguel couldn’t get enough of how tight you were and how sensitive he was. It had been years—decades—since he’d mated, and only seconds in, he found himself whining like a virgin cub during his first time.

“You’re… impressing me, twig,” the beast huffed, his claws gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. He was mesmerized by the sight of your pussy devouring him in wet guzzles. 

The squelching of your pussy didn’t go unnoticed by the bear; the sounds shot straight to his cock as you repeatedly rose and slammed down onto his large, throbbing length, which begged for your return with each departure.

‘Who would’ve thought a small, weak human could take a being like me?’ was all the beast could think between the intense squeezes of your exquisite pussy.

Your hands landed on Miguel’s chest, feeling the taut muscles and scratching new markings into his pecs. You ground yourself on his cock, taking him as deep as your body would allow.

Communication was impossible; your eyes crossed, jaw hanging slack as only curses, moans, and high-pitched noises left your lips.

The bear grunted, noticing your sputtering hips that signaled you were close. Snarling, he tossed you onto your back, taking control before either of you could come to your senses.

His hips moved into you with raw power, his thick-furred muscles snapping with a precision deemed inconceivable. Miguel couldn’t take his eyes off your bouncing tits, the flesh moving in sync with his thrusts and the lustful sight of him joined with his new mate.

The beast’s little human was so strong, taking everything he gave you. He purred, clearly seeing the tip of his girthy cock poke through your soft abdomen, making you tremble and choke back moans at his inhuman size. “Tan perfecta, pequeña, tan perfecta para mí," the creature rumbled, the praise practically unintelligible.

Your combined cries of pleasure rang throughout the cave, bouncing off the stony walls as the blizzard continued to rage outside.

You squirmed, not remembering when your arms enveloped the bear’s broad backside, nails marking his tough skin. Whimpering and moaning in overwhelming pleasure, you were pushed over the edge in an instant when you felt Miguel’s cock press tightly against the opening to your womb.

Shrieking, you released, your back arching off the bedding and your thighs clasping around his waist. Aftershocks of electric bliss coursed through your nerves, shocking you back to life as Miguel continued his rutting.

The beast roared, his hips stalling at the clench you gave him before thrusting more erratically than before.

Burying his face in your neck, the bear whined, “Sí, sí, humanita.” He panted, his fangs grazing the skin of your ear, making you tremble in delight.

“Llevarías a mis pequeñas, mi compañera?" Miguel murmured into your ear, his pace becoming more frantic, his large balls smacking against your ass.

"Llevarás mi legado y te quedarás conmigo. Nunca me dejarías, pequeña compañera. Nunca." The beast growled, allowing the rush to overtake him.

With a loud bellow, the bear came. He held your hips down in a bruising grip, burying his cock as far as it would go, leaving no doubt you were filled with his seed.

Your toes curled, holding onto the monster tightly and moaning into his shoulder. You were left exhausted, your mind empty and devoid of thought. Your belly felt full, stuffed by the beast, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your exploration was complete… 

Breathing a sigh of relief, you welcomed the beast beside you, never wanting to let go. Your arms gripped his waist tightly, your face nuzzled into his furry chest.

Out of exhaustion, sleep overtook you in no time, melting into the bear’s hardened pecs as soft snores escaped you.

Miguel pulled you close, engulfing you in his burly arms. He used his massive, furry body to warm and shield you, his fingers brushing strands of your sweaty hair from your face. 

He admired the human next to him, never in his life foreseeing this. “A human as my mate?” he whispered with a small chuckle, his hand moving to caress his little human’s belly, knowing what was growing there and what he would ensure would grow.

“You are mine now, Y/N, for all eternity.”

Miguel, the Monster of the Great Mountains, stated, his arms tightening around his new mate.

You were now Miguel’s, his little human and mate who was never to leave his cave.

He’d keep you here, where he could protect you, fill you full of his little cubs, and ensure you’d never escape his sight.

Miguel knew you’d probably fight him and disagree with his desires, but inevitably, you’d stay with him.

Whether you liked it or not…

A/N: That concludes The Beast Within! Writing Miguel as a beast was such an interesting and fun experience for me, and I really enjoyed it. If you enjoyed it just as much as I did, please like, comment, reblog, and follow!

If you’re excited to see what else my older sister, @powerful-niya, and I have in store, stay tuned—Vicetober is just getting started. 😈

Hope everyone has a wonderful day! Stay safe!!

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