#foot creams for cracked feet

[joonbh]

Visit More

[wubacare]

Foot Cream for Cracked Feet: A Soothing Solution for Healing and Hydration 

Cracked feet are more than just a cosmetic issue; they can cause discomfort, agony, and even progress to more serious foot problems if not treated. Because of the lack of oil glands, our feet's skin is naturally drier than the rest of our body, making them prone to dryness, flakiness, and cracking. Fortunately, there are specialised foot creams that are designed to handle these difficulties successfully. In this post, we'll look at the benefits of foot cream for cracked feet and how to select the best one for your needs.

Why Do Feet Crack? 

Before we talk about foot creams, we need to understand why feet crack in the first place. Several reasons contribute to this widespread issue: 

Dry Skin: As mentioned before, the skin on our feet lacks oil glands, rendering it prone to dryness. 

Excessive Pressure: Standing for lengthy periods of time or wearing ill-fitting shoes can cause excessive pressure on the foot, resulting in cracks. 

Environmental Factors: Prolonged contact with water, low humidity, and cold temperatures can deplete the skin's natural oils, leading to cracking. 

Medical Conditions: Eczema, psoriasis, and thyroid issues can all lead to dry, cracked feet. 

The Benefits of Foot Creams 

Foot creams are specifically designed to give extreme hydration, exfoliation, and protection for the feet. Here are some of the main advantages of utilising foot cream for cracked feet. 

Moisturization: Emollients and humectants in foot creams help to soften the skin and prevent it from cracking further. 

Exfoliation: Many foot lotions contain alpha-hydroxy acids (AHAs) or urea, which assist to exfoliate dead skin cells, resulting in smoother, healthier-looking feet. 

Protection: Shea butter, beeswax, and lanolin form a protective layer on the skin, sheltering it from environmental assaults and preventing moisture loss. 

Healing: Some foot lotions contain healing agents such as aloe vera, tea tree oil, and calendula extract, which have anti-inflammatory and antibacterial characteristics that help cure cracks and fissures. 

How to Choose the Right Foot Cream 

With so many different foot creams on the market, it can be difficult to choose the ideal one. When picking a foot cream for cracked feet, consider the following factors: 

Components: Look for foot lotions with moisturising components including glycerin, hyaluronic acid, and ceramides. AHAs, urea, and salicylic acid are great exfoliants, while aloe vera, tea tree oil, and calendula extract provide healing benefits. 

Texture: Choose a cream with a thick, creamy texture that absorbs rapidly into the skin without leaving a greasy behind. 

Fragrance: If you have sensitive skin, use a fragrance-free foot cream to avoid potential allergens. 

Reviews and Ratings: Before purchasing a foot cream, read reviews and look at ratings to determine its effectiveness and reliability. 

How to Use Foot Cream Effectively 

Follow these easy steps to get the most out of your foot cream and have soft, smooth, and crack-free feet: 

Cleanse: Cleanse your feet with a gentle cleanser and warm water to get rid of dirt and pollutants. 

Exfoliate: Gently exfoliate the skin with a foot scrub or pumice stone, paying special attention to fissures and calluses. 

Apply Cream: Massage the foot cream into your feet in circular strokes until fully absorbed. 

Cover Up: Wear breathable cotton socks overnight after applying the foot lotion to trap in moisture and increase absorption. 

Conclusion 

Cracked feet are unattractive and painful, but the appropriate foot cream may effectively nourish, heal, and hydrate your skin. Understanding the causes of cracked feet and selecting a foot cream matched to your specific needs allows you to take proactive efforts to keep your feet healthy and beautiful all year. So, invest in a high-quality foot cream today and experience a world of relaxation, confidence, and renewed vitality! 

[mohaandvedistry]

Participate in the moha Foot Care Money Back Challenge! Valid on individual packs of Foot Care Cream (50g & 100g) purchased from www.moha.co.in between December 1, 2023, and February 1, 2024.

[mohabeauty]

Find the most affordable Foot Cream prices in India at moha. Explore a large selection of superior Foot Cream products when you shop online.

[shotmrmiller]

the tale of how simon got himself a gf without stepping a foot outside of base.

anyone can tell you that alcohol reduces the ability to use logic. to see reason. it lowers inhibitions and blurs the boundary lines you've drawn in the sand.

but indulging in drink tonight is justified. you're in need of reprieve after this shit week: broke up with your boyfriend, deadlines at work appearing out of thin air, a flat tire on your morning commute. you even stepped on the end of your cat's tail.

miserable. (she's okay, just giving you the cold shoulder. you'll buy her some tasty snacks tomorrow.)

but for tonight, you're wallowing in your own misery. some uninteresting show is playing on the television, you're cradled by the cushions of your couch, a fluffy sherpa throw over your socked feet.

if only there was a way to melt this week's accumulated stress away even further.

cue the drunk texting your ex cliché.

anyone can tell you that it's detrimental to moving on. it's akin to reopening a wound that's already begun to heal. a step back when you should only be moving forward. your friends would drag you by your hair for being so dumb.

but there's an incessant throb in between your legs that's only getting stronger with every glass of wine you toss back. you're wound tight, violin strings stretched to the brink. a couple of bow strokes away from snapping.

you'll deal with the consequences tomorrow, along with your hangover.

typing in his (deleted in a fit of heartbroken rage) number with fumbling fingers and send a picture of you with the hem of your sleeping shirt between your teeth, the swell of your bare breasts on full display with a cheeky little missing you <3

he responds in minutes even though it's 2:30am.

send a vid and show me how much you miss me.

it makes your pussy clench around nothing, already slick, drooling, begging to be filled. you sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you bring up the camera.

when simon first gets the text, he's on edge, gripping his phone hard enough to crack. no one should have this number except for price, johnny and kyle. he's made sure of it-- had laswell pull strings to give him a secure line. no scam likely's, no cold calls, nothing.

but then some silly little bird dials his number by mistake and the sweet cherry on top is that you've sent a nude. breasts on full display-- soft looking, hard peaked. it makes his mouth water, his gums itch. he'd love to sink his teeth into them, into you, hard enough to bruise. mark. claim.

but that's for later, once he finds you.

he texts back and what you send him in response fattens his cock. a small hand tucked beneath the waistband of your flimsy knickers, gusset dampened with warm arousal. you lick your bottom lip, leaving it glossy with spit. your chest heaves with the sharp gasps of breath you're drawing.

but there's a problem. he can barely see what you're doing. he doesn't have x-ray vision, your knickers are in the way. while he can understand the allure, he himself doesn't have the patience for it. either you let him see your bare cunt or don't waste his time.

he wasn't expecting you to agree this fast. maybe a bit of push back, a little snapping of teeth until you relent but no. you're an obedient thing. submissive. just how he likes 'em. (if he wants to break someone in, that's what johnny's for.)

soft, inviting thighs spread wide, a couple of fingers curling inside your glistening cunt. (duly noticing how your 2 fingers are the size of 1 of his.) your moans spill from your lips unreservedly when you roll your pearl in tight, precise little circles. he spits on his hand, heavy length resting in his calloused palm and tugs himself at the pace you've set: jerky, quick, messy.

you come with a whimper, eyes shut and pliant body coiled tight. a frothy, sticky cream coats your fingers, dripping down to your arse, pooling on your couch.

you miss me too? sent 3:27 am

(he decides to keep you. simon can't remember the last time he's had a climax that spine stiffening in a while.)

[dermaltherapy]

Looking for the best cream for heel cracks? Dermal therapy heel care cream is the best to combat dry, cracked heels. Dermal Therapy is a renowned brand of foot cream specially designed to treat and prevent dry and cracked heels.For severe cases of cracked heels, try Dermal Therapy Heel Rescue Foot Cream. This cream is enriched with shea butter, essential oils, and vitamins to deeply nourish and hydrate the skin. Check out our top products to heal cracked heels fast. 

See More: https://www.dermaltherapy.ca/products/heel-care-1

[wileys-russo]

frido "stop picking me up when you don't get your way" tall frido supremacy 😌

drowned rat II f.rolfö

you exhaled happily at the way your skin felt like it was near glowing, bathed in the radiantly warm glow of the mallorca sun. you could practically feel every little thought from your head draining like water from a tub the longer you lay there.

a tiny voice in the back of your head told you to flip over, or maybe apply a new layer of sunscreen, but they were drowned out by the much louder more dominant voice reminding you were just so comfortable.

"you will burn if you lay here much longer." you were pulled from your semi drowzy state by a new voice of reason, one which no matter what you simply couldn't ignore as you turned your head to the side and cracked open an eye.

"they call it sun baking, not sun burning." you mumbled with a lazy smile, the blonde laid down beside you chuckling but still her gaze bore into you knowingly.

"can you do my back for me?" you sighed giving in, laughing as within seconds the swede was up and on her feet, rifling through the tote bag you'd brought for the little blue bottle.

"oh please do get comfortable." you teased feeling her sit down on the back of your thighs, words muffled as you rested your chin on your forearms. "fridolina!" you hissed a little louder as her hand smacked then massaged your bikini covered ass.

"what? we don't want this burnt do we älskade?" your girlfriend tutted, though quickly moving her strong hands to massage the sunscreen into your upper back instead as you hummed skeptically.

"you are going to get us kicked off the beach again." you warned with a roll of your eyes, sneakily taking her sunglasses which sat abandoned on her towel next to yours and slipping them on.

"that was one time and it was a harmless accident." the older girl grumbled and you smiled imagining the embarrassed blush which would be coating her cheeks.

"mmm yes it is hilarious when your girlfriend unties your bikini top and exposes your breasts to several small children and you get a letter in the mail from council fining you for public indecency." you grumbled at the memory.

"that better be a cough and not a laugh rolfö!" you warned sharply hearing her snicker, turning your head to glare up at her, eyes shielded by the sunglasses covering your face.

"i said i was very very sorry." the blonde leaned down to tenderly kiss your shoulder blade as you scoffed, her large hands still softly massaging the cream into your sun kissed skin.

"no you did not. you paid the fine, laughed in my face and very proudly told everyone at training the next day!" you reminded hearing her snicker again, a couple of soft taps to the back of your neck indicating she was done.

"well then i am now saying i am very very sorry?" "mhm, sure darling." you hummed, reaching around to pat her side in thanks, knowing all too well she was not in fact sorry and you wouldn't put it past her to do it again.

"come for a swim? the water is gorgeous." you felt her get up off of you, her foot poking your side as you swatted it away with a shake of your head. "not yet, maybe later." you declined, far too happy in the sun, your girlfriend often teasing you were actually solar powered.

"you said that earlier! kom igen, en snabb simtur." she pleaded in swedish, normally something which was sure to break your resolve finding it incredibly attractive but today seemed to be the exception as you wordlessly shook your head and made no move to get up.

"later." you repeated, eyes closing and exhaling happily, assuming she would just take herself to cool off as she had done earlier. "now?" or, no such luck.

"i just said no!" "no, you said later. it is now later."

"why are you being so insistent? we're on holidays baby, just relax." you sighed, eyes closing again as silence fell though you could feel her shadow lingering over you.

"you are blocking my sun rolfö, that is a dangerous game." you warned, but before you could say another word you felt yourself being lifted into the air and scrambled to grab the loose ties of the back of your bikini, very much not eager for a repeat of last time but also quite keen to avoid tan lines where you could.

"fridolina put me down!" you demanded, hoisted up and over her shoulder like a sack of potatos, cheeks flushing red with colour as wary eyes watched you from strangers sat a few feet away on the sand.

"like you said hjärtat we are on holidays! it is so warm, i think you need to cool off." her tone was teasing and your pleas to be put down fell on deaf ears as she strode across the sand toward the ocean.

"okay okay you win! just put me down and let me adjust at my own speed, please?" you pleaded as she arrived at the waters edge, wading in until the water hit her upper thigh and you sighed in relief when she came to a stop.

"oh you want me to put you down?" you heard the grin in her voice even if you were facing the other way. "don't you dare!" your hand smacked against her toned bare back with a loud crack of warning knowing exactly what the taller girl was thinking.

"baby i am just doing what you tell me! so fussy." the blonde tutted in her accented english and you whined and huffed your annoyance with her as she waded in even deeper.

grabbing onto the waistband of her bikini bottoms you yanked them upwards in a final desperate attempt to stop her, however it would seem that worked even more against you as with a yelp of surprise sounding from the blonde your body was plunged into the freezing depths.

your feet pushed up against the sandy bank and you surfaced with a splutter, your hair covering your face as you gasped trying to catch your breath which had been snatched from you with the sudden temperature change, never having been one for the cold unlike your proud scandi girlfriend.

"a wedgie? you give me a wedgie?" the blonde in question laughed, pushing a small wave of water in your direction as half of it filled your mouth and you choked, spitting it out and glaring at her as best you could through the hair which covered your face.

"so immature raring, really." frido sighed sarcastically with a shake of her head as you scoffed, launching yourself at her and dunking her head back under the water managing to catch her off guard.

"immature? i am the immature one?" you grunted, trying to dunk her again but squealing as she stood up to her full height, body wet and slippery as you tried to cling on but she threw you back into the water without any sort of struggle.

"stop picking me up when you don't get your way!" you warned, flicking your head back as your hair finally flew out of your face and you exhaled, body slowly adjusting to the oceans low temperature and admittedly now it was quite pleasant once you had.

"aw but you are so small baby, like a cute little mouse." the blonde swam closer and cooed teasingly, earning herself a glare as her hands found the back of your thighs, settling herself in the water and pulling your legs to wrap around her waist.

"eller en dränkt råtta." the defender grinned, walking out a little deeper still holding onto you as you pushed your hair to the side of your head and narrowed your eyes.

"a drowned rat she says!" you scoffed smacking her shoulder playfully as she let out a loud pelt of laughter, looking at you with a cheeky grin you couldn't help but melt at.

"oh your swedish is getting very good." "we have been together for nearly three years! rövhål."

[ayautopro]

Cream Foot For Dry Cracked Feet

[fear-is-truth]

can u do a quicksilver fic where he has like the biggest crush on readerrr and hes just like really awkward abt it😋😋

peter maximoff was quick of wit and even faster on his feet—forever living up to his alias, “quicksilver”. but when it came to you, it was like his brain short-circuited. you weren’t sure why exactly he suddenly hung around more—leaning against the wall as you passed through the x-mansion, offering a lopsided smile and finger guns whenever you looked his way.

and honestly? it was hard not to notice, especially after the time he zipped over to say hi and tripped flat on his face right in front of you.

today was no different. you were half-heartedly flipping through a magazine in the library when peter sauntered in, casually propping himself against the doorframe. he was practically vibrating in place, bouncing on the balls of his feet as if he could barely stand still. his hand shot up to ruffle the back of his head, his silver hair sticking up at odd angles.

“hey,” he blurted out, a little too loud before he cleared his throat, trying again. “you, uh, busy or something?”

you glanced up, quirking an eyebrow.

“not particularly. why?”

peter shrugged, eyes darting around the room.

“cool, cool. ‘cause, um, i was thinking… maybe you’d wanna do something. with me. or not, y’know, no pressure. i mean, there’s totally other things you could be doing, obviously—like reading that magazine.”

you smirked, closing the magazine with a soft thud. “real smooth, peter.”

“yeah, exactly what i was going for.”

he shifted from foot to foot before, in a blink, zipped across the room to land beside you on the couch, sitting way too close.

“look, i just…” peter hesitated, as if the speedster was searching for the right words—a rarity for him. “you’re not weirded out, right?”

your head tilted slightly, suppressing a smile. “weirded out by what?”

“oh nothing!” his voice cracked as he waved his hands in the air defensively. “not weirded out that i like hanging out with you or anything, because that’d be ridiculous. right?”

he shot you a nervous grin, eyes flicking to yours, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. amused, you held his gaze, before deciding to throw him a lifeline.

“not weird at all, peter. i like hanging out with you too.”

upon hearing your words, his face lit up like a lightbulb. bouncing on the couch seat, he fist-pumped the air triumphantly.

“yes! awesome. so, how about we hang out, like, now? maybe grab a burger? or ice cream? or—whatever you want. i can literally get anything.” he paused abruptly, smile faltering. “just, uh, not pizza.”

“why not?” you tilted your head curiously.

“because you've already got a pizza my heart.”

the laugh burst from your throat before you could stop it, and peter blinked, realising just how bad the line was.

“okay, um. forget i said that,” he muttered, cheeks flushing a dark shade of red as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“sounded way cooler in my head.”

“c’mon peter, that was priceless.”

he winced, shaking his head. “yeah, not exactly my finest moment. but, anyway—still up for hanging out?”

your lips curled into a smile as you leaned in slightly. “you kidding? of course.”

you lowered your voice confidentially and whispered in his ear.

“by the way, if you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.“

peter froze, staring at you like you’d just grown an extra head. his silence stretched for a beat before he groaned, eyes scrunching shut in mock agony.

“now that was especially corny.”

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

JJK Men General Relationship Headcanons

Note: my first writing hope yall like it... feel free to leave requests

WC: 1.1k

CW: None just fluff

Neutral!reader x gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso

GOJO SATORU

Bro is a menace. Will make you question why you are dating him everyday. He just likes making you mad yk those types of guys that flirt with you by being mean to you. HE'S ONE OF THEM

Spoils tf out of you. I feel like he would give you gifts and he definitely makes a big deal about it. He loves LOUD

Definitely the type to make you wear a G-letter necklace and you can NEVER take it off. I’m crying 

 His love language is physical touch. No arguing. He NEEDS to be touching you 24/7. Hugs from behind are his favorite omg and with him so tall and all. My ass is 5’9 and he’s 6’4 just ughhhhhh 

Random thought but I feel like he's a nail biter. Yeah he acts cool and all but, that's how that mf relieves his anxiety. He be munchin fr. So if yall bite your nails too (i do) you can bond with that 

GETO SUGURU

Ah Geto! I feel like he's the type of guy that is quiet around everyone else besides you. He opens up to you and tells you everything when he gets comfortable.

He also spoils you but it’s more quiet in a way. Yk how people say private but not a secret. That’s yalls relationship. 

He loves loves loves calling I feel. He will always facetime or call. When he's playing videos or smth yall are on the phone. 

Love Language is definitely acts of service. He cooks and cleans, Definitely has GREAT hygiene. He just always smells so yummy. 

Random thought but, he definitely always wears a hair tie on his wrist. For you or for him but mostly for you. Also weirdly he also always has chapstick. Pookie don’t have not one crack in them luscious lips. The flavor imma has to say good old strawberry. 

NANAMI KENTO 

WHEN I TELL YOU I CREAMED MY PANTIES the day I saw a tiktok where it said he was 200lbs. IMAGINE that hunk of a man smothering you in kisses and cuddles. OMG I love this man. 

He’s like Geto. He loves you quietly. But he's the type of man that would date to marry. You bet your ass he's gonna marry you. I wanna marry him. Everyone wants to marry him. 

He loves coming home from work just to be with you. You are his peace. I feel like he’d like bag rubs and he’d like giving you sum too yk. You feel me. 

Love language is definitely quality time. Imagine baking bread with him. OMG i love baking guys i’d bake him anything. But yeah cute little date yall can have. So cute so domestic. 

Random thought but I feel like he’d ask for you to iron his clothes yk since he always wears a suit. Like he could def do it himself but he just likes watching you do it. He def has that “in love” stare while watching you. NANAMI 

TOJI FUSHIGURO

DADDY

I feel like out of all the guys for him he would take the longest to fall in love with you or actually realize that he has feelings for you but, once he realizes he's WHIPPED 

He’d do anything.. Tell him to go to the store no questions asked. You don’t feel like cooking. He’ll try his be… yall are ordering food. Need a foot rub, he's right there on the couch with you watching whatever show YOU like rubbing your feet. 

I'm sorry but I have them daddy issues. Like if yall argue or smth and he makes you cry or makes you upset, he doesn’t mean too. He'd feel so bad and he’d be the BEST comforter (is that a word?). Like he just holds you and stuff and apologizes. 

Love language… This a tough one. Imma go with words of affirmation. I feel like he takes pride in being told he's doing smth good yk. Hes just trying his best to not fuck up another relationship yk so please tell that poor baby he’s doing good. 

Random thought but let's say in my little world of fanfiction he never left Megumi. It'd be important to him that Megumi likes the woman he’s with yk. Let that motherly instinct kick in. 

CHOSO KAMO

THE LITERAL LOML. 

YOU have to teach him how to be in a relationship. He won’t know nun. Like yes he knows women and men like each other, they get married and shit, and have babies. But he doesn’t know how to yk romance you ig. BUT YOU BEST BELIEVE HE WILL TRY THE HARDEST

He will def be the type to ask around and read up on it. Bringing you flowers and chocolate yk little gifts here and there. Always telling you he loves you and DATES so many dates. He wants everyone to know yall are together. HE IS YOURS. He’d def be the type to ask, “can i be your bf?” instead of “be my gf” yk. Yall know what i'm talkin bout.

Not that this man has anything to be insecure about but, I feel like once he is out in the public and stuff he notices that no one has any marks like his over his nose. He’d just feel a little uncomfortable but don’t let him. KISS HIS MARK PLEASEEEEE. God he blush so much and that embarrassment about it will fade completely. SO CUTE i just wanna nibble him. 

Love language.. I could literally write a 5 page essay with works cited on how he could be all 5 but, well go with physical touch rn. The first time yall kissed, he could’ve sworn he was in heaven. He def pulled away with his eyes still closed savoring the moment. He literally is always kissing you and hugging you. He's so clingy in a good way. Always holds your hand in public. DO NOT SPLIT THE POLE. He would be on the verge of tears (I'm being dramatic). 

Random thought but he’d def be the type of guy who would be like “let me ask my gf.” He knows he doesn’t need your permission to do stuff but he just likes telling you and letting you know. He so ugh…i just want him in my pocket is that too much to ask. 

[grugruel]

hi, can you please write more of Arthur morgan😭I love your writing so much!🫶

Thank you!🫶 It makes me so happy to hear that you enjoy my writing, it really spurred on my motivation!😌 Still, I've been trying to write this for weeks, but ended up rewriting and starting over. Now im finally done, hope you enjoy this too!🥹

You've Kissed Me For Less

Pairings: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: Arthur wants to teach you hunting. But as your effort proves fruitless and the weather fouls, Arthur needs to keep you warm in the cold hours of the night.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: forced proximity ish, pinv sex, sideways sex, cream-pie, petnames (sweetheart, girl, honey, darlin'), fingering, slight handjob, tension, flirting.

AN: The arrow misses. Not proofread!

Knock, draw . . . Hold . . . Aim, and . . .

"That's right . . . Atta girl."

Crack.

The furry beast jerked in surprise. Looking up, it's ears twitched and turned, attempting to determine the source of the sound. It's dark eyes alert and contrasting, standing out from the light snowfall filling the air.

She stood on unsteady feet, the broken twig beneath her boot throwing her off balance. "You're thinkin' to much, girl," he whispered, his warm breath caressing her neck, making her hair stand on end. "Release."

Siddled up to a tree, they were out of sight from their prey. A large pair of hands guided her arms, and a strong chest pressed firmly against her back. In the cold landscape they found themselves in, the reassurance from the heat of his body was duely welcomed.

She inhaled, holding it for steady aim. But restless and unfocused, she moved her weight from on foot to another–the snow crunched beneath her heel.

Her breath caught in her throat as the beast whipped in her direction, and their eyes met.

Release–the arrow pierced the air.

The gentle beast grunted and wheezed, fleeing as it bounced out of sight.

And where it had stood, her arrow struck bark. The shaft now coated in snow as the force of the blow shook the spruce and rid its branches of the bright, clamoring weight.

"Well," he began, attempting to hide the amusement from his tone. "It ain't easy . . . It's only your first."

She chuckled, her bow arm slumping to her side. "We've been at it all day, Arthur. Thats the fourth shot I've missed."

"Plenty of time to work on your trackin'."

She grunted, throwing her head back in frustration.

He'd wanted her to learn hunting so she could fend for herself if the need ever arose. But as long a she had him, it wouldn't. And if truth be told, she preffered it that way. Secretly sighing in relief each time the arrow missed it's target.

That day, they'd awoken with the sun, and been after the same deer all day. Poor bastard. He should really count his blessings, had Arthur been the one holding that bow they'd been heading back to camp within the first hour or so.

But the weather hadn't been a hassel. Soft clouds had sprinkled light snow all morning, only just coming to an end. But the air was clear and hellishly cold, enough so for the humidity in the air to freeze and glimmer as the mid-day sun shone upon them.

"Were in headwind." She shrugged. "And the poor thing darted off into the woods, we could continue tracking it from there," She said, and pointed toward the otherside of the lake. Surface frozen and snowed over, footing wouldn't be a problem.

"That so?"

"Well, yes-- what? What you grinning for?"

"Poor creature," he quoted, jerking his chin to the side. "You've been missin' on purpose."

She scoffed. "You think too highly of me, Arthur. I would gladly miss if I'd had the aim for it. But as it stands, I'm a poor shot with a bleeding heart."

"Nah, I think of you just right, sweetheart. But we needa eat." He pointed toward the treeline. "And the food just ran off."

She sighed heavily. He was right, but that didn't mean she'd be happy about it. "Well, let's go then. But I cant promise we'll be eating deer tonight ."

No," he began, a smirk spreading scross his lips. "But I can." He took the bow from her hand and the quiver from her back.

Alright, there were no more blessings to be counted.

"Your faith in me is lackluster, Arthur."

He scoffed and stepped onto the ice, nodding for her to follow. "First I think to highly of ya, 'n now its lackluster . . . Would you rather have me wither away . . . Starve to death?"

The ice sang beneath their feet as she thought about it, and her eyes automatically turned to his broad shoulders and thick arms. Her mind drifting to that hard chest and strong hands. "No . . . That'd be a damn shame," she said. "But I do have the basics down, would I really have to I could probably find myself some game."

Arthur chuckled, then stopped. "Tell you what . . . We passed a cabin, head back there and set up shelter," he said and looked toward the sky, the sun passing it's peak. "We're too far out, and probably won't be makin' it back to camp before dark. And I'll track down dinner."

"Really?"

Arthur kneeled down by the shore, examining the tracks. "Nah, don't want you to kill unnecessarily."

She was awed. That man possessed such kindness but was so careful with showing it, and she couldn't imagine why.

Her chest warmed and cheeks blushed, she hoped the cold could be played of as an excuse. "Thank you, Arthur. Truly," she smiled at him. But she wanted to convey her gratitude properly, for it was no small favour he did her.

"No need to thank me, honey. I understand."

But that wasnt enough, so- without thinking, she removed her glove and leaned down. Her hand found his jaw, and her lips his cheek. Gently, she pinched the sharp edge with the pads of her fingertips. And gently, she pecked his face with soft lips.

It was supposed to be a friendly gesture, but as her warm fingers met his cold skin and the stubble along the sharp edge tickled her lips–a trickle of longing brushed her insides.

She'd been sweet on him for a while, which woman wouldn't be? He could be soft and masculine, tough and sweet. He was a manly man, broad shouldered and handsome. He helped her lift heavy things, not because he assumed she couldnt do it, but because he wished to be of help.

She could not think of one thing she yearned for more.

So this touch, it must've been her subconscious. How many times she'd thought of brushing his cheek in gratitude, she could not remember. This time was no different.

As the sun shone on his face, and he'd done her this kindness, her mind must've gotten tired of all impulses stopped by her conscience and simply moved for her.

Now there they were, neither knowing what to do next.

Their eyes were locked on eachother, and Arthur's lips were parted as if he wished to say something but couldn't quite.

"I, I'll just-- I'm heading back, then. To that cabkn-" she began to gesture in the general direction, her mind keeping her tongue busy by rambling. "What am I saying, you can track me," she joked, awkwardly laughing, flustered by her own impromptu affection.

"I can . . . I'll find ya'." Was all he said, still kneeling and looking up at her.

Good, good good good. Before she knew it, she'd already turned around and began making her way back. Embaressment prickled her face, a thousand small needle points taunting her, and Arthur's reaction did nothing to ease her mind. She'd been a fool.

-

Night was closing in and the wind was picking up. Heavy snow began to fall, but thankfully, the cabin was abandoned and the roof was intact, protecting them from the weather, but not the cold. She managed to get a fire going in the old hearth, but it helped very little with warmth when the walls were ramshackle, allowing drafts and especially rough wind draw through.

Shivering down to her bone marrow, the girl hugged herself tightly. "Fuck me," she swore beneath her breath. "Ridiculous." The weather had changed within an hour, completley flipping the serene day into a hellish night. "Could think were in the damned arctics."

She'd endured 3 hours by her lonesome, thankfully forging for firewood before the storm set in.

But she couldn't help but worry for Arthur. He was a rugged man, but even he had limits. She kept thinking It'd all be alright once he got back there, to her side. But what could one man to about the weather?

With the cold came the hunger, and the regret not long thereafter. "Damn conscience," she muttered, her stumache growling.

She could barely see the trees surrounding the cabin, the snow doing more to sabotage her sight than the darkness. It was falling so thickly she could barely see between the flakes.

"Sorry for bein' late," announced a voice.

Startled, she turned toward it–the door opening had sounded like another howl from the wind. Trough the heavy curtain of snow, Arthur emerged, flakes swirling around him as he entered the cabin and the glow of the fire embraced him. "Damn tracks got muddled . . . blown over," he said, the overflow of irritation noticeable in his demeanor and tone. He looked weathered, clothes roughed up from the storm, hat collecting a nice layer of snow, cheeks and nose rosy. "Deer would've been too heavy in this shit," he gestured toward the snow and slammed the door shut behind him. "Got us some rabbits instead."

Wearing an incredulous expression, she had to laugh. She'd been worried about him being alone in this shit storm, fearing he might've frozen to death. But no, he brought rabbits, that's all.

"What's so funny," he asked, preparing the animals before placing them above the fire and taking a seat next to her.

She glanced at him. "That's all you got to say? You got some rabbits?"

"I already apologised to ya."

She scoffed, amazed by his resilience.

The annoyance began to melt from him, the heat thawing his mood. "What? I dont get a 'thank you' this time? You've kissed me for less."

She froze, narrowing her eyes on him. Those familiar needles pricking her skin again. "You didn't magically happen upon an extra blanket or so, did you?" She changed the topic, and as if to prove her point, a particularly violent shiver descended upon her.

Arthur shook his head, then removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. " 'Fraid not," he said, then handed her the cooked meat.

He wore another jacket beneath, but it was thin and unsufficient, in her opinion.

"Thank you," she whispered, and kissed his cheek once more. But there was no embaressment this time. Their eyes met, silently communicatingas mouths were to occupied with chewing. She suspected there'd been a lack of words even without the chewing. "I've kissed you for less," she agreed, then redirected her gaze into the fire.

-

They spent the next half hour in quiet as they ate, nothing but the howling wind and crackling fire to keep them company.

Eventually unrolling their bedrolls and attempting to sleep, a few short words for communication when needed. It proved difficult, however, for the night wore on and the temperature continued to drop.

She could hear her teeth clattering in her skull, even with Arthur's jacket on.

"You're still freezing."

"A-are you not?" She stuttered. The hearth was cramped with their bodies side by side. " 'M sorry if I w-woke you." She hated the idea of her body shivering so much it cost him his sleep.

"You'll get pneumonia, girl. We need to get you warm."

"H-how you figure t-that?"

"Well, I-- hell, let me warm you up."

She didn't stop to think before she spoke, proving a common theme. "Do it, Arthur p-please. Before my t-t-teeth shatter."

She heard a rustling behind her, and then she felt him slip into her bedroll. It was tight, but enough space for then to move around. "We needa get those off you," he murmured, voice gravelly.

She nodded profusely, feeling the familiar contours of his chest against her back. He removed both the jackets from her shoulders until there were nothing but the two thin fabrics of their shirts between their bodies.

She sighed, it felt like a radiator against her back. "F-Feels better already," she said, her dtutter subsiding and shivers calming.

"Good, you're alright, girl," he comforted, wrapping one arm around her waist as she propped her head on the other. He pulled her closer, leaving no space for the heat to escape.

Feeling his hand on her like this felt . . . Heavenly. As if his large hand was molded just to fit her curves. "I want more . . . Arthur. Warmer."

Without a word, he removed his shirt and got back into position. If freezing to death was all she had to do to achive this scenario, she would've done it earlier. Moving to do the same, she yearned for his heat to seep into her directly, skin to skin.

The body behind her stiffened, suddenly worried. "You don't have to, girl." He stopped her.

"I-I want to, Arthur. Im fine."

With her words of reassurance, he relaxed. His hands found hers, aiding her in the removal. She'd had no time to make it clear that there was no corset covering her since hunting didn't require one.

Arthur's breathing hitched at the revalation, prompting him to clear his throat. And his hands were simply hovering, uncertain where they belonged, where they were allowed.

"First time seeing a woman without a corset, Arthur?" She teased, uncertain where this sudden confidence came from, if it simply wasthe bizarre nature of the situation, or that it was only her bare back he could see.

He chuckled. "No, ma'am. 'S just . . . I dont wanna take any liberties."

"I don't mind, Arthur," she whispered. There's no liberties she wouldn't allow him to take, she thought.

Slowly, the hesitance melted away from him, and his fingers found her ribs. She sighed, content with their feeling. They burned, but pleasantly so. The reaction from her core was the only thing growing unbareable. Gaining confidence, his hand slid lower, following the length of her ribs. Fingers stopping just beneath the hill of her breast, hus thumb stroking small circles over her skin.

She hummed appreciatively, forgetting herself.

"Feelin' good?"

"Mmmh, warmer." She was finally relaxed enough to feel the low heat radiating from the fire, but with the numbness gone, the wind grew more noticeable. At times, a strong gust of wind would seep through the walls and graze her skin. Sending new shivers and goosebumps rippling across her body.

The retaliate and keep her heat up, she nudged herself closer to Arthur, tucking her hips and rear into his crotch. This gained her a low groan, and his fingertips sinking into the skin of her ribs like gentle claws.

"Better lay still now, girl," he warned, breathing onto her shoulder.

"Why's that?" She asked, but just as the words left her lips, she felt something slightly harden against her thigh. "Oh . . ." She gasped. Feeling it through both fabrics of their pants impressed her, salivated her.

" 'M sorry, sweetheart, 'm sorry." His thumb brushed back and forth, suddenly grazing the underside of her breast. She felt a twitch below the hips.

"Sorry, s-- I dont mean to," he breathed hard, leaning his forehead against her shoulder, attempting to focus.

"You can touch, Arthur."

"Now, honey . . . "

"I want you to," she assured him, knowing he might question the circumstances.

He shook his head hesitantly. "Dont wanna go takin' advantage of ya'."

You couldn't ever." She grabbed the hand that rested beneath her breast and guided it atop her, nipple already hard from anything and everything he does. "I want you to touch me."

He relented, andsqueezed her breast, releasing a grunt simultaneously. His lips found her neck, gently placing kisses on her skin.

She pushed back against him, grinding down on his crotch. "I want more than touching, Arthur . . ."

"I don't deserve you," he groaned, hand sliding over her chest to wrap his arm around her torso, bost breasts pressing firmly against his forearm.

The arm her head rested on reached down, brushing down her abdomen and beneath her pants. She gasped as his fingers found her clit. "All of you . . . Please." Her hand reach behind her, working to unbutton his pants as she turned her head over her shoulder, and their lips found eachother.

As the last button came undone and his length was free, her hands wrapped around it, gently stroking him and reveling in the pleased moans he breathed into her mouth.

"Hold on, hold on-" he stopped her. "I'll--" he swallowed, lips stalling against her own. "We only get one chance . . . tonight." He tried to clarify. " 'N I want ya' the right way." His hand momentarily left her chest to brush his fingers over the hand that held his member.

"I want that too," she whispered.

With her go-ahead, he pushed her pants below her ass and lined himself up with her entrance, her ass neatly tucked against his crotch, fitting together like piezes of a puzzle, perfectly matching. "Atta girl," he praised and pushed inside her.

They moaned simultaneously, lips reattaching. His hand were quickly back to work, breasts and clit stimulated by his expert hands all the while he thrusted in an out of her. "Feel so good."

She couldn't help but smile, panting between kisses as her body burned for him, every singel nerve flooding with electrical currents. "Harder, Arthur. I beg you. Im . . . G-Getting close. "

Arthur slowed his pace, arm leaving her clit to hold her torso, exchanging arms so he could hook her leg onto his arm for better leverage, reaching deep, hitting her core.

She cried out.

"C'mon, darlin'." He bit her lip. "Im right here."

"Mm, mhmm," she whimpered, the pressure in her core building, ready to topple over any second. Her vision grew blurry, chest heaving and breathing hard. And then- she came. Pleasure rolled over her, Arthur continuing to thrust into her as he prolonged her orgasm. "Breathe girl, you're alright," he comforted her. Fingers playing with her nipple. "Doin' so good."

She shook, she shivered, but the cold was no longer the reason, Arthur was. "Where-- where can I-"

"Anywhere," she moaned, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Too good to me, youre too good to me," he repeated. "Good girl." He grunted, finally toppling over himself, spilling his seed inside her. With a few final ruts, they collpased in eachothers embrace, sweat coating their skin.

"Is it hot in here or . . . ?"

Arthur chuckled and kissed her shoulder. "You're welcome, sweetheart." He wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Pretty girl."

"Thank you, Arthur," she said, and kissed his cheek.

"I get both now? A 'thank you' and a kiss? What's gotten into you?"

"Well," she held back a giggle. "You did."

"Funny," he said, a grinn on his lips, foolishly proud.

[francixoxoxo]

𐙚𝒯𝒾𝓃𝓎 𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒸ℯ𝓇 ୨ৎ

𝒞ℴ𝓇𝒾ℴ𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓊𝓈 𝒮𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒳 ℬ𝒶𝓁𝓁ℯ𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒶 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇

𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐬 �� 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐨, 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨.

𝐓𝐖: 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐚

𝒴𝒶’𝓁𝓁 𝒹ℴ𝓃’𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓀ℯ 𝒾𝓉 𝓌ℯ𝒾𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝒷𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒻ℯℯ𝓉！！

Ballet was your passion. It was like when you entered that room, glossy hardwood under-toe and expansive mirrors across the wall— you forgot your body’s limits.

At the end of the day, the lactic acid would kick in and you’d feel like a true cripple. Your toes were cracked, your spine brittle, your legs stiff from being pulled so taught.

Coriolanus was so, so endearingly supportive of you. Your grace was unmatched in every endeavor you took, yet ballet was your calling. He was at every performance, your enamored husband, yet careful to respect your wishes of letting your success be solely from your work. You were adamant that you didn’t want him pulling strings for you.

If he couldn’t use his political power as President to get you ahead, he’d dote on every single other aspect of your dancing.

A leotard in every color you pleased. The best hairstylists and gentlest products to keep your hair silky and healthy, unlike what most ballerinas had to deal with. Hell, a whole dance studio in the presidential mansion all to yourself for the few days you didn’t have rehearsal with your dance company.

Coriolanus noticed in particular that your feet took the largest toll. Bruised and battered between heels for events as the First Lady of Panem and pointe shoes for performances as a Prima Ballerina… it broke his heart. He saw to it that your slippers were custom-made to fit your feet, the finest quality and comfortable as possible.

And yet, though the pain was exponentially better, your passion continued to discomfort you. You’d insisted how much you loved ballet, insisted that you didn’t mind some pain in the face of your career.

That didn’t mean that Coryo didn’t feel awful.

One night, Coryo slipped into the dance studio. You were somehow more awake than him in the late hours of the night. He’d finished up his address for the next cabinet meeting, and for the first time in the past few months felt truly ready for bed.

You? Not so much. You were in your ballet slippers, in a cream-colored leotard and pink skirt. Working your pretty little ass off. You were practicing an important routine for the next show, which you had an important role in. When you heard the door open, your heels immediately hit the floor and your head whipped to see Coriolanus.

You let out a soft sigh. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Your husband cooed, his sapphire eyes shamelessly drinking you in. He waved a hand to you as he crossed the room to sit on the bench against the wall. “Keep going, my love, don’t let me stop you.”

You smiled a bit shyly, turning around so your back was to him. You met his eyes in the mirror as you began from where you left off in the dance, a dainty arabesque.

Coryo just leaned against the wall, his legs spreading lazily as he sat and watched you dance. You were absolutely captivating in every movement. Graceful and iridescently beautiful.

That was, until you couldn’t bear to dance on the pointe of your slippers and stumbled a bit. You groaned in frustration, slipping to your knees in a smooth and somehow still elegant motion.

“What happened?” Coriolanus sat up now, brows drawing in concern as you began to undo the ribbons of your pointe shoe. You shook your head, rigid with frustration.

“I think it’s time for bed.” You admit, slipping your right flat off and undoing the thick bandage wrapped from your heel to your toes.

You grimaced at the sight of your foot. Some of your toes were purple with bruises, cruel and mocking blisters on your knuckles. There were indivudual bandages around certain more damaged toes, a bandaid under the ball of your foot. The bones of your foot were strained against your skin. Even you could admit that you looked beaten.

Before you realized it, Coryo was scooping you up with his arms under your back and knees. You gasped a little, though it delved into a little giggle. He couldn’t pretend that your battered feet didn’t bother him, he couldn’t manage a smile. Your husband gently sat you down on the bench he had been on, reaching for your ballet duffel bag. He dug around a bit.

“Poor baby.” Coriolanus cooed, pressing a kiss to your knee as he shifted to kneel at your feet. In his hand he clutched a roll of soft pink bandages and a tube of Neosporin you kept in your bag. “It looks like it hurts.”

You hummed, admiring the sight of Coryo on his knees in front of you. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and baring his forearms, his dress shirt’s top few buttons unbuttoned. His hair was ungelled, to your delight. “It’s not that bad.”

But you flinched as Coryo pressed gently on a bruise with his thumb. He’d hardly applied any pressure, and you were reacting like that. “This? This isn’t that bad?” Coriolanus huffed, he held your foot in one hand and gestured to it by lifting it just a bit. He raised his brows, blue eyes wide in disbelief. He shook his head disapprovingly, looking down and applying some Neosporin to the opened blisters on your toes.

“My love, you’re pushing yourself too far.” Coryo murmured, his breath warm on your shin as he reached for the bandages. He took loving care in wrapping your foot, once, twice, as much padding as he needed to ease his mind.

You shake your head. “Don’t be dramatic, Coryo. This is normal.” You watched your husband’s jaw tick. He leaned down to press a tender kiss to your ankle, his eyelashes tickling your calf.

“Normal, fine. But I’m not dramatic when I say that it hurts to see.” Coriolanus turned to lean his head against your knee, unraveling the ribbons of your other slipper with an agonizingly gentle touch. His fingers were featherlight, as if you’d crumble under his fingers. “You don’t deserve this. Such a good, beautiful woman as you shouldn’t have a scratch.”

You smiled faintly down at him as he slipped your pointe shoe off. He was unbelievably doting, despite what people might say about his coldness. Coryo was completely different behind closed doors. He melted with you. He adored you.

“You’re too good to me.” You murmured softly, Coriolanus scoffed and shook his head as he carefully unwrapped the fabric covering your toes. He could see the deep crimson staining the cloth already, his brow was already pulled taut.

You grimaced at the damage to your feet. Damn. You hadn’t realized it was bleeding until now, looking down at the rubbed-off skin and blisters cracking your toes. Now that the wounds were exposed to the air, they suddenly stung and ached. Coryo was staring down at your foot for a long few moments before rifling through your duffel bag for some baby wipes. He was sure this had happened before, he was sure you would be hesitant to tell him.

“My poor darling..” Coriolanus cooed, successfully finding a wipe and cleaning the blood from your skin. You whimpered at the touch on the raw skin, but when your husband looked up at you as if to ask if he should stop, you gently pushed your fingers through his blonde curls.

“I’m fine.” You assured him, watching as he squeezed some Neosporin onto the opened skin. Coryo was painfully gentle in wrapping up your foot, he cooed sweet words and apologies to you, though it wasn’t his fault.

Coryo was certain you didn’t deserve any of this pain that came with your passion. You were too good for any kind of pain, period. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your foot, his lips trailing up to your ankle, the length of your shin, your knee. That last kiss, he let his azure eyes flutter shut, humming lowly against your skin. You couldn’t help smiling down at him, gently scratching and rubbing his scalp. If only he could see himself now, kneeling in front of you, kissing up your legs and practically worshipping you.

“I love you.” Coriolanus murmured, propping his chin on your knee and looking up at you with soft eyes. Well, he was looking up at you like you were a goddess, like you were something to pray to. His eyes twinkled, his expression sincere.

Your smile only widened. You folded at the waist to press a kiss to the crown of Coryo’s hair, whispering, “I love you too.” That brought a fond smile to his lips, a little snort from his nose.

He tossed those devilish slippers into your bag after a long, lingering few moments of staring up at you. “Let’s get you to bed.” Coryo hummed, zipping up the duffel and swinging it over his shoulder as he stood. You moved to stand, opening your mouth to ask for the sandals in your bag, but before you could speak he was scooping you back up into his arms like a princess. You couldn’t help the giggle bubbling from your lips, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Coriolanus pressed his lips to your temple as he pushed the door open with his back, carrying you down the hall. He didn’t really care if a servant or an Avox saw you two; he wasn’t doing anything that a loving husband wouldn’t, anyway.

Your pain truly hurt him. Coryo felt an ache in his heart every time you’d complain of stiff joints or blistered feet. He made sure to have ballet slippers created specifically for you, so that you wouldn’t feel such pain again.

You didn’t have to ask; Coriolanus was a husband who jumped to your every need before the words rolled off your tongue.

[soul-meister]

SHAVING STRUGGLES : poly!lost boys x chubby!fem!reader : the lost boys : one-shot

cw: petnames(babe, sweetcheeks, doll)

note: there's something in here that i personally do when shaving and didn't realize it might be weird to other people till i finished writing so just ignore it?

because of your current situation--which included a burning in your calf and back muscles, cuts you didn't even feel till blood was dripping down your legs, hair that seemed to become more and more endless the further you shaved up your legs, and loud music that hopefully drowned out your inner suffering--you didn't hear the usual knocking on your bedroom window coming from your boys wanting to be let in.

nor did you hear the frequency of the knocking increase in worry till a cracked form on the glass, and the feeling of another trying to push into your mind was played off as a headache forming from your frustration and the music.

you did, however, hear the sound of glass breaking in your room, but you played it off as your cat knocking down an object and not someone possibly breaking into your house, as you wanted--more like needed--to finish shaving your legs; you told yourself you'd go over your armpits and more private areas another day.

though, as your attention went back to the task at hand, you once again didn't hear the sound of heavy and quick footfall heading to the closed bathroom door.

your attention was pulled from your leg a second time when the door to the bathroom slammed open, and you just knew there was now an indent in the wall behind it.

you stared at the four vampires with one foot placed on the ledge of your tub, your leg bent awkwardly so you could get a somewhat better look at the back of your thigh.

and the only thing covering your body was a sports bra as you hated when you bent over and shaving cream was wiped off your leg and now on your clothing. so other than that one piece of cloth, you were practically naked.

"it's not eight-thirty(8:30) yet, is it?" you questioned, and now standing on both feet, you grabbed your washcloth from the side of the tub to begin wiping shaving cream from your body.

"we smelt blood. are you okay," david replied, not answering your question, but instead stepping further into the bathroom with the other two following in after him.

wait- two? it should be other three. david, paul, and dwyane were now surrounding you but where was marko? you were sure you saw him when your bathroom door almost fell off its hinges.

didn't matter when you took notice of the shoes that the trio was wearing--you didn't enjoy when they tracked dirt into your house, especially your bedroom. you sighed, "yes- why are you guys still wearing your shoes? you're supposed to place them under the window when coming in."

"we thought you were in danger," david mumbled, resting his hands on the fat of your waist. "we smelt blood, you weren't answering our knocking, and you wouldn't let me into your head."

paul began playing with your hair, "yeah, babe. you had us all worried."

"sorry, i couldn't hear y'all over the music and shaving requires a lot of concentration from me so i can get every. little. hair." you pulled yourself from david's grip and made your way past dwyane to the bathroom counter which held your radio and towel; you set the shaver and washcloth down.

"we can tell," dwyane spoke from behind you, his hips pushing into the plush of your ass as he brought an arm around you to turn down the radio for you while placing a kiss to the top of your head.

you smiled at the action before it quickly dropped when you pieced together the boys' entrance to the shattering sound from earlier. "did you guys break my window?" you questioned, turning to face your boyfriends as dwyane backed away at you accusation.

we thought you were in danger, doll, you heard from inside your head, the faded voice belonging to david as your were less focused than before--not by much because you were annoyed at them now for breaking your window.

"you said that already."

"but have we ever told you that you look really fucking sexy?" you saw how paul's eyes wandered over your plump and mostly bare figure, his eyes never staying in one place for too long. glancing at the other two, you saw dwyane's gaze repeatedly shift between your body and the wall behind you.

david's eyes casually traveled over your firm with a smirk on his face before lifting to meet your stare, his smile dropping at the unamused look in your eyes.

you grabbed the towel from the counter behind you and used it to cover your lower area from view.

"i mean, that's a really cute bra. where'd you get it, babe?"

"one, it's an old sports bra so it's not really 'cute', and two, you don't wear or buy me bras."

"i think i could rock a-"

david sighed, interrupting the taller blonde's rambling, "paul, just shut up."

"put your shoes away, fix my window and clean up any dirt you tracked in," you stepped closer them and began to shoo them out of the bathroom with one hand while the other still clutched onto the towel.

"but baaaabe," the twisted sister whined.

"get out."

marko watched his lovers leave the bathroom, hiding his grin with his fist as he didn't want to be punched by one them at the moment; don't get him wrong, he'd love to play wrestle with one of them but not in your house and definitely not when he could possibly get away with cleaning and instead be helping you out.

slipping into the bathroom, the curly blonde made his way up to your figure which was fiddling around with the radio, "hey, sweetcheeks," he spoke, leaning against the counter with his body facing yours.

glancing down, you took notice of the fact that he was shoeless--which made you somewhat content--but you were still irritated. "what do you need, marko? i want to finish shaving."

marko picked up the shaver from the counter, pinching it between his pointer finger and thumb, "just wondering if you wanted any help."

[withacapitalp]

Trust Me

Read it on AO3 instead here. Special thanks to @riality-check for betaing for me!!! I love me some genderfluid Steve Harrington, and writing this was so much fun!! TW: internalized homophobia, internalized transphobia, and a couple f slurs

------

It started with the long navy skirt that Carol’s mother got her for her thirteenth birthday. 

Well, maybe it started a lot earlier. Maybe it started with Steve being both Tommy and Carol’s first kiss, or maybe it started with Steve always wanting to play house, or maybe it never really ‘started’ in the first place. Maybe this was just always who he was. 

But Carol thinks it really started with that long navy skirt. 

It wasn’t really Carol’s style. It was floor length and just a bit too long. When she tried it on, the bottom pooled around her on the floor like a rushing river. Her mom promised to get it tailored and told her to hang it up in her closet. 

Carol, in a hurry to get dressed before Steve and Tommy, left it on her desk instead. 

Her thirteenth birthday was perfect. Just her and her boys doing whatever she wanted. They went to Enzo’s for a fancy Italian dinner, watched a romance movie that Tommy pretended to hate, and got two scoops of cotton candy ice cream afterward to split. Her parents even let the boys sleep over in her bedroom as long as they all promised that Tommy and Steve were going to stay on the floor. 

They broke that promise pretty much the second the door was shut, but what her mom and dad didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. 

Carol fell asleep squished between her two favorite people, snuggled in warm and safe. 

She woke up half cold. 

Tommy was still curled up on her left side, snoring and dead to the world, but her right side was chilly, and when she spread her fingers out searching, only the blankets greeted her. 

Steve wasn’t there. 

Carol cracked one eye open, looking past the empty bed and towards the clock on her bedside table. 3:48 am. 

Way too early to be awake, even for an early bird like their Stevie. If it was Tommy, she would’ve just rolled over and went back to bed, assuming he was just getting up to pee or something. That was probably what Steve was doing. Carol didn’t need to worry. 

But…but it was Steve, and Steve had a tendency to get himself into trouble. The little voice in the back of Carol’s head that sounded like her mother was nagging at her, telling her to check on him, telling her to make sure, just make sure. 

So, with a heaving sigh, Carol untangled herself from Tommy’s octopus grip and pushed herself out of bed, shivering slightly when her bare feet touched the freezing cold floor. She scurried over to where her slippers were, jamming them on and walking out the door yawning. 

She was too busy rubbing at her sleep filled eyes to notice the skirt that had been on her desk was missing. 

Light spilled into the hallway from down the stairs, directing Carol to where she would find her missing boy. She decided to slide down the banister to avoid the creaky steps, smothering a giggle and keeping quiet. Steve was probably just getting a midnight snack and watching one of her VHS tapes. Maybe she would join him, and they could watch Robin Hood or Mary Poppins and fall asleep on the couch together like they did sometimes. 

But when Carol finally peeked into the living room, she stopped short.

Steve wasn’t sitting on the couch munching on chips or drinking a soda, and the television was dark. He wasn’t sitting at all, actually. Stevie was standing by the big accent mirror her mother put in the corner of the room, looking at his reflection as he idly twirled back and forth. 

That wasn’t the part that made Carol freeze in place. 

She froze because he was wearing her new skirt. 

It looked like it fit him wonderfully, actually. Steve had shot up like a weed last year, growing practically a foot in height, so the maxi length reached almost exactly halfway down his calves. His waist, which had always been tiny, looked positively perfect. If it was another girl trying it on, Carol would already be gushing about how cute it was. 

But it wasn’t another girl.

It was Steve. 

Her Steve. One of her boys. One of her boys was wearing a skirt, and it was a definitive fact that boys did not wear skirts. She would’ve figured it was just a joke, something stupid to make her and Tommy laugh, but then why would Steve do this in the middle of the night when they wouldn’t be awake to tease him? Why would he come downstairs when everyone else was asleep?

Why did Steve look like he was about to cry? 

Any thoughts Carol had about poking fun at him disappeared. Steve never cried. Never ever. She hadn’t even seen him cry when he broke his wrist falling out of the tree in his backyard. The only time she had ever seen Steve cry was the first time his parents had missed one of his basketball games, and she hadn’t even ‘seen’ that, just heard it through his locked bedroom door. 

(She didn’t like to remember that day. He had been crying so loudly it carried through his whole house. Carol guessed Steve never learned how to do that quietly, considering there was no need. His parents weren’t there.)

Sure, they liked to mess with each other, and Carol was never afraid of saying something that other people might be too sensitive about because she knew Steve could take it, but something about this just felt…different. 

“Stevie?” Carol called, stepping into the room. He immediately stiffened up, the soft slope of his shoulders growing rigid with fear. Steve looked at her from the reflection of the mirror, not turning to face her properly. 

He looked completely terrified, and that just wouldn’t do. She didn’t know what to say or think about a boy wearing a skirt, but she did know how to deal with Steve. 

“It looks pretty,” Carol said with false lightness, walking into the room and standing behind Steve in the mirror. She tried to catch his eye and give him one of her sweetest smiles, but it fell when Steve avoided her gaze. 

“It doesn’t,” Steve muttered, curling in on himself and grabbing at the hem of the old t-shirt he was wearing as pajamas, “I look silly.” 

“I think it’s pretty,” she argued back.

Yes, he did look kind of silly, but she couldn’t stand seeing him make himself small like that. Steve did that whenever he was talking to his mom and dad, he would hide himself away and try to take up less space, but he never did that with her and Tommy. Carol wasn’t going to let him start now. Not because of this. 

“It is really pretty, Stevie,” Carol added on, reaching out to put her hand on his shoulder, “The cut is nice, and it makes your waist look so small. I wish mine looked like that! Plus the color compliments your-”

“I look ridiculous, Carrie,” Steve interrupted harshly, jerking away from her before she could touch him and squeezing his eyes shut tight, “Like a fag, a sick freak.” 

Carol left her hand hovering in the air, her stomach disappearing. Those weren’t Steve’s words. Steve would never say something that mean. 

Carol knew she could be mean sometimes, and she knew Tommy could be even meaner other times, but that was only to people who deserved it. Steve was never mean, even to people who deserved it. He was a total sweetheart, soft and gentle, and he needed her and Tommy to protect those soft gentle parts of him.

The parts that would hurt if he heard things like that. The parts that would hold onto words like those, waiting for the perfect moment to turn them inward and hurt himself. 

He had gotten those words from somewhere, and Carol was pretty sure she knew where. But no matter who had said them or about what, she knew she needed to make them go away. 

Somehow. 

“Well, it does look a little weird,” Carol started, quickly continuing when she saw Steve’s lip starting to wobble, “But not because it’s you wearing it! Just… that skirt really doesn’t work with your PJs. Wait, wait right here, I have an idea. Trust me.” 

She scampered up the stairs, practically flying into her room and rooting around in her closet, throwing things left and right. When she found what she was looking for she gasped in delight, a sound that was just loud enough to make Tommy snuffle slightly away. 

“Go back to sleep,” Carol said in a soft sing-song voice, pausing briefly in her mission to skip over and press a quick kiss to Tommy’s cheek. 

She loved Tommy, and she knew Steve loved Tommy, and she knew that Tommy loved both of them, but this still didn’t feel like something that they needed to share with him. At least, not just yet. 

Luckily, Tommy hummed happily and turned over, going back to his snoring. She chuckled quietly to herself and began to walk out, grabbing the big jewelry box from the top of her dresser as an afterthought. 

Steve was still standing exactly where she had left him, looking out of place and uncomfortable in his body. The words ‘sick freak’ were still burning in her chest, and she could see them written on his features. 

The other word was there too, but Carol couldn’t think about that word. She used it, and Tommy used it, but never for real. Steve had said it for real, stamping himself with a label that didn’t fit right. 

Yeah, he and Tommy had kissed a couple times, but Steve had also kissed her a few times, and she kissed Tommy all the time. It was just something they had as friends, practice for when they got real boyfriends and girlfriends. That didn’t make them fags. That just…it made her boys her boys. That was all. 

No matter what, Steve wasn’t a freak, and he definitely wasn’t sick. He was the coolest boy in school, her very best friend. He was soft and gentle where she and Tommy were hard and biting, and the three of them worked perfectly. Everyone looked up to them, everyone wanted to be them. Anything he wanted to do was right.

So if Steve wanted to wear something pretty, then Carol was going to make sure it was absolutely perfect. 

“Here,” Carol said, handing over the sweater she had been looking for. 

It was cashmere, soft and buttery to the touch, with a cream and dark blue striped pattern. Her uncle had gotten it for her in Paris, but he always got things way too big. It was ‘so she could grow into it’, but Carol really hoped she would never grow into an extra extra large. 

Steve took the sweater from here, but didn’t move to put it on. He just held it, rubbing his thumb along the fabric and staring down at it with a strange longing. 

“Go on. It’ll match way better,” Carol urged, nudging his shoulder with her own and stepping back. He stayed still. 

“Trust me,” Carol repeated, keeping her face open and honest. 

Steve tossed her an unsure look but did as he was told, hesitantly pulling his t-shirt off and slipping into the sweater. Without the pajamas clashing, the skirt looked even better, and Steve was even starting to cautiously admire his reflection again. 

“Now let’s tuck it in,” Carol said, pushing away any lingering confusion and moving straight into business mode. She didn't have to think about whether it was right for Steve to want to wear a skirt, she just had to make sure that it looked good. 

She pulled Steve so he was back directly in front of the mirror, standing behind him and reaching around. She tucked the bottom of the sweater into his skirt, fussing for a second to make sure it wasn’t bunched up anywhere and smoothing down the creases where his broad shoulders didn’t quite match up to the way the sweater was cut. 

“Give me a twirl,” Carol ordered, spinning her finger the way her mother always did when she had Carol try on something new. 

“Twirl?” Steve questioned, standing awkwardly. 

Carol nodded eagerly, sitting on the coffee table and putting her jewelry box down next to her. She never really liked it when her mom made her do this, but it was enjoyable to watch someone else. Carol had always wanted a sister to play dress up with, and while this wasn’t exactly the same, it was still pretty fun. 

Now that she was getting into it, it didn’t really seem all that strange to her, and the longer she looked at Steve in her clothes, the more normal it all seemed. It was just dress up, just something fun to do with her very best friend. Didn’t best friends try on each other’s clothes all the time? Tommy and Steve practically shared one wardrobe. 

This wasn’t that weird. Just dress up. 

Steve continued to just stand there for a minute before taking a deep breath and spinning in the smallest fastest circle she had ever seen. His face was beet red and he was staring down at his feet, but Carol could see the smile starting to grow on his face. 

She made another teasing circle with her finger and Steve twirled around for her again, bigger this time. She giggled, and he answered with his own quiet laugh. The air in the room was growing bright and warm and Carol hopped up from her spot, grabbing Steve’s hand and tugging him over to the couch. 

“Time for accessories,” She declared, dragging her box over and opening it. It was stuffed to the bursting with tons of different bits and baubles, and Carol began to root through it, picking out a few things she thought would match. 

“Do I need these?” Steve wondered aloud, looking wide eyed at all the different options. 

“Accessories make an outfit, Stevie,” Carol said, parroting the words her mother always said to her. 

She put a bunch of her silver bangles around one of his wrists, and her favorite blue and white polka dot scrunchie around the other. None of her rings would fit Steve’s fingers, and his hair was too short for his hair was too short for any of her ribbons or to make a braid, but she did find a few star and moon barrettes to clip in that looked nice. 

Carol pulled back to look at the whole outfit, tapping her lip with the tip of her finger. There was still something missing, something not quite right. 

“Oh!” Carol said, realizing what was wrong. She reached up behind her own head, undoing the clasp and reaching up to put it around Steve’s neck instead. 

“Wait, what are you-”

“Trust me,” Carol crooned, continuing to put the necklace around Steve’s neck. When the clasp was locked in place, she fixed the chain, arranging it exactly as she wanted. 

“There, that’s better,” She said with a satisfied smile. 

The locket was gold, which didn’t exactly match what she was trying to do with his ensemble, but it was the thing that was missing. Steve and Tommy had gotten it for her for her tenth birthday, and both of their pictures were inside, along with one of her baby teeth.  

It was cheap, and her mother didn’t like it very much, but they had saved all of their pocket money to get it for her, and it was Carol’s prized possession. She never let anyone else touch it, and the only time she took it off was to take a bath or grab a shower. 

She could feel its absence now, the lack of weight that was usually there on her neck, but the sensation didn’t fill her with the usual anxiety it caused. She knew it was in safe hands. 

Out of the three of them, Steve was always the gentlest.

Steve looked lost again, reaching up to touch the locket in silent wonder. The bracelets around his wrist jangled against each other, and he almost startled at the sound, unused to wearing any jewelry. She snickered, opening up one of the other drawers in her box. 

“Do you want some makeup?” Carol whispered conspiratorially, pulling out her secret eyeshadow and mascara, “My mom doesn’t know I have these, but I swiped them from the department store a couple months ago,”

Steve quickly shook his head, staying uncharacteristically silent. Carol could tell he wanted to say yes, and she really wanted to try and see if she could do a better job on him than she did on herself when she tried to put it on, but she held back. Steve was brand new to pretty clothes, and doing too much at once would probably be overwhelming. 

He already looked pretty shocked as it was. 

“Okay. Now let’s look properly,” Carol said, clapping her hands and pulling them both out of their thoughts. 

She held out her hand and Steve took it, interlocking their fingers. Carol passively thought about different nail polish colors she could try on Steve as she walked them both towards the mirror. He probably wouldn’t like pink, but maybe baby blue? Or white with little stickers. That could look nice. 

Or maybe this was a one time thing. Maybe Steve would look at his reflection and totally hate it and never want to try again. 

That’s what Carol should want, right? It wasn’t normal for boys to want to put on pretty clothes, and it would be better if Steve decided he didn’t like it. 

So why was she so hopeful that Steve would like how he looked as much as she did? 

“How do you feel?” Carol asked as they reached the mirror, looking anxiously at their reflections. 

Steve looked like himself still, but changed, evolved. It was like those soft parts of him- the gentle ones he kept hidden just for Tommy and Carol- were finally on full display, and the result was gorgeous.  

The lean muscles that were starting to develop on Steve’s arms from swimming practice were hidden under cashmere stripes, and the barely there baby fat that was starting to fade made her want to squeeze his cheeks. He had a sweet smile on his face and he kept glancing shyly from the mirror down to his hands and back up to the mirror. It was like he was scared to see himself, but couldn’t look away. 

“Pretty,” He whispered, his voice filled with awe, making Carol’s chest brim with light, “I feel pretty.” 

“No,” She whispered back, leaning her head against his upper arm and beaming, “Trust me. You’re beautiful.” 

“Beautiful,” He repeated, holding the word reverently on his tongue. Carol stood on her tip toes and kissed Steve’s cheek, wrapping her arms around his bicep and going back to looking at their reflections. 

Carol’s mom never ended up getting that navy skirt tailored, because she never saw it again. When she asked her daughter, Carol played dumb, telling her it was in the laundry or missing somewhere in the house. 

Her mother never found out that the skirt and the sweater that had never fit Carol now lived in the back of Steve Harrington’s closet, hidden inside a fabric bag behind a box of old baby clothes. 

[chat--blanc]

Poolside Blues

Rating: T Warning tags: Mention of past torture, experiencing a panic attack and aquaphobia.

He didn’t know why he agreed to come along. It took nearly three days' worth of constant nagging and pestering from Amy for him to crack. She had insisted that he come along with all their friends to the small community pool for some ‘fun under the sun’ as she put it. Sonic gave her a condition: he would come as long as he didn’t have to step a foot into the water. As exasperating as she thought he was being, she agreed to his terms.

Sonic let out a long dramatic sigh as he shifted a small pool tote to his other arm. He walked alongside his partner, Shadow, who carried a separate tote bag with towels and small snacks for Sonic as well as some adventure books so he wouldn’t get bored at the pool. They walked down the dirt path, getting closer to the small community pool. Supposedly Amy had rented it out for the day for all of them.

“You didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to.” Shadow stated flatly, there was no malice in his tone, he simply was stating the obvious. Sonic trudged his feet beside him, he looked at Shadow. Long slender legs wore red swim trunks and his gaze went up to see a toned stomach, trailing over soft chest fur up to piercing ruby eyes. He smiled softly to himself.

“Yeah, I know but FOMO and all that, am I right?” He quipped playfully, arms resting behind his long cobalt quills.

“FO what?” Shadow looked quizzically, slightly miffed. Sonic chuckled lightly and grabbed Shadow’s free hand, lacing fingers together. He felt Shadow squeeze his hand lightly, a comforting gesture they shared often to convey that they were present and there for each other.

“Means fear of missing out, like you might miss out on something fun or awesome.” he said casually. His counterpart hummed in response, thinking it was a silly saying. They walked closer, arms brushing against one another, a playful nudge here and there.

When they arrived at the community pool they were greeted by friends. Tails whammed into his brother’s arm the second he had a chance, nearly knocking the hero down.

“Woah! Good to see ya too, lil bro.” Sonic laughed as he ruffled fluffy yellow bangs. Tails smiled a toothy grin as he playfully swatted the offending hands.

“Same goes for you! I can’t wait to show you what I’ve been working on next time you’re free.” He beamed.

“Ohhh, still modifying the Tornado or is it something different?” He inquired, his signature smirk written on his face. Tails flicked his namesake excitedly.

“Well both I guess, I’ll tell you later about it. I’m sure Amy and Knuckles wanna say hi too. Hi Shadow, how are you?” he waved and smiled warmly at him.

“Doing well, are the rest of my team here?” he asked calmly.

“I think only Rouge could make it, said something about Omega preferring to destroy practice dummies in the training grounds.” The fox stated. Shadow gave a curt nod and walked past the two to greet Rouge. Sonic watched him go, he couldn’t help but stare.

“I’m surprised you actually came to the pool, Sonic.” the little fox said with a hint of smugness his hands resting on his hips. The two walked over to the lawn chairs close to the fence a few feet from the pool and sat down.

“Yeah well, Amy asked and you know how she is.” He said as he leaned back in his lawn chair. He gazed at the pool and saw Cream and Cheese playing in the shallow end. He smiled and waved at the two who eagerly waved back and continued to play.

“Yeah, I get that.” Tails laughed softly. “So I know there’s no way in chaos that you’re gonna swim, so what are you doing?” He asked. Sonic shimmied in his tote for his book.

“Just gonna read for a bit before we all sit and have lunch, Shadow got me this new book about a wandering hero chao, talk about way past cool!” He proudly showed the cover to his little brother who awed at it. They chatted for a bit more until Tails decided to head to the pool. Sonic scanned the area and his gaze landed on Shadow who seemed to be very deep in discussion about something with Rouge and Knuckles. They stood in the shallow end of the pool. He wondered what they could be talking about, for all he knew it could have been about the chaos emeralds which wouldn’t be surprising. Rouge had quite an obsession with beautiful gems, Shadow was chaos-gifted and Knuckles was the guardian of the Master Emerald. He hummed to himself.

“Sitting all by yourself huh?” a soft voice spoke beside him, he turned his gaze and saw his dear friend Amy. She beamed at him, wearing a white polka-dotted red one-piece with a small frilly skirt.

“It’s cool, I was just gonna read. Blaze couldn’t make it?” he asked as she sat in the chair next to him. 

“No, she had princess duties to attend to today, but that’s okay.” She sighed wistfully. They both watched their friends, Tails, and Cream were splashing around with Cheese. Meanwhile Shadow, Rouge, and Knuckles headed farther into the pool. Slowly wading in as Rouge continued to converse with the two. 

“Being a royal must be tough, huh?” He asked, making small talk. Amy nodded but wasn’t at all melancholy about it.

“Yeah, but I’m proud of her for it. I’m going to swim with the others, I hope you enjoy your book, we’ll get you when it’s time to eat.” She smiled and waved goodbye. He waved back and settled himself on the lawn chair, resting against it as he opened to a quarterway through the book to read. The sun shone brightly and the cool July breeze swept through. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, completely relaxing in his seat.

The sun beamed high above, splashes and laughter could be heard. At some point Shadow let himself drift to the side of the pool, floating freely but his arms crossed and resting on the concrete. His eyes closed as he just soaked the warmth in from his dark fur. Rouge had left the pool some time ago but wandered towards Shadow, two drinks in hand. She sat at the edge of the pool, dipping her feet in and then her calves, next to Shadow’s head. Feeling the water ripple around him and the shifting of the bat as she sat down, he raised his head from his arms and glanced at her. She handed him a drink.

“What’s this?” he inquired, taking it from her, it had a purple mini umbrella above a colorful pink smoothie.

“Strawberry and banana smoothie, thought you might like to give it a try.” Rouge stated as she sat down with her own drink. Shadow nodded thanks and took a sip, he hummed his approval, he rested his back against the wall of the pool beside Rouge.

“So how have things been with you and Blue?” she asked casually, sipping her drink. Shadow gave off a very small smile. 

“Pretty well, actually.” he states contently.

“You’re not gonna go into detail?” She croons, he shakes his head, a notable smug smirk.

“That’s so like you to not go into specifics, well as long as you two are happy.” she chortles. 

She’s quick to cover her face with her outstretched wing from a small splash led by small giggles from the younger members of the group. 

Shadow however wasn’t as fortunate and his quills and fur became soaked, even his beautiful fluffy chest fur was flattened down by water. He whipped his head around quickly to find Tails and Cream roaring with laughter a few feet away. He even noticed that Sonic was lightly chuckling before going back to his book. Shadow huffed playfully and he splashed back, not as forceful. Cream squealed with delight as Cheese soared above her mischievously.

Tails and Cream put their arm lower in the water to create a bigger wave as they whisked their arms forward. Shadow shielded his face instinctively and splashed back in playful retaliation. This went on for a few minutes until Shadow thought of an idea. Using his chaos energy, he aimed his chaos blast at the water in front of him and it made a fifteen-foot-tall wave, Cream and Tails squealed in delight but as the wave came crashing down outside of the pool, Shadow felt a pit of dread in his stomach as he watched it crash in the direction of the beach chairs. Where Sonic sat peacefully. 

It happened so quickly, the poor cobalt hedgehog felt a harsh cold smack over his entire body. His quills puffed and sharpened and he flattened himself rigidly against the chair, eyes wide in terror as he inhaled sharply. He coughed and hacked a few times, eyes glazed over in fear.

Shadow quickly waded over to the other side of the pool, fumbling out apologies, trying to defuse the situation but Sonic couldn’t hear anything, he was shaking so violently that he scrambled to get up, dropping his soaked book in the process with a harsh splat. The blue blur sped out of the gated pool area so fast that Shadow had barely made it out of the pool. Everyone began to voice out their concerns and worry but Shadow didn’t listen, he was too focused on the speedster that left, He haphazardly put his skates on and yanked a towel off of one of the chairs that managed to avoid the wave.

“I’ll handle it, stay here.” he stated sternly and skated off. He wasn’t sure which way he took off but he wouldn’t stop until he found him. He zig-zagged through the woods, peering through the brush and foliage, it wasn’t long until he found blue at the base of a big tree.

Sonic sat down, back quills scraped against the tree as he quietly hyperventilated into his knees.

Shadow felt dreadful, he should have thought his actions through, he shouldn’t have let himself get carried away like that and now his lover was suffering the consequences of his actions. He needed to approach this carefully, Sonic wasn’t always rational when panicked. He knew of his fear of water but had never really known the extent of it, he wished that he didn’t have to see it firsthand, it was such a heart-wrenching thing to witness. 

Shadow appeared in front of him, purposefully rustling the bushes to announce his presence.

“Sonic? Can you hear me?” Shadow carefully crouched in front of the frightened hog, who still was clutching his legs tightly, breathing heavily into his knees, eyes squeezed shut tight. His ears were pinned against his head and his body was wracked with shivers. No doubt from fear and the damp quills and fur of his body chilling him to the bone in the shade of the trees. Hesitant hands reached but stalled, uncertain of how to proceed, how to comfort. 

Sonic’s breathing became more erratic, choking back, he threw his head back slightly, his own hands reaching for his throat. He was struggling to regulate his breathing and Shadow took action. With cautious handling, Shadow gently grasped Sonic’s wrists and pulled them to his chest. He smoothed his lover’s palm flat against his heart and drew him close to his body, shushing him soothingly, pulling Sonic against his chest. A blue ear flicked against a soft fluffy chest, searching for a beat he didn’t know he wanted. Shadow shuffled close to the tree, leaning his side against the bark, as Sonic curled instinctively closer to him, seeking his warmth and gentle touches. He gently stroked through cobalt quills that grew lax with each touch. His breathing began evening out slowly over time as Shadow whispered simple soothing phrases, softly peppering kisses against his forehead.

Sonic practically melted, deflating against a strong cobalt body, nuzzling his nose into downy soft chest fur. 

Shadow internally breathes a sigh of relief, glad that his instincts led him correctly. They sat like that for quite some time. Minutes had passed, maybe even half an hour.

Sonic scooched closer and began to fiddle with Shadow’s inhibitor rings, feeling rather awkward. The weight of what just transpired finally settled in. Sure they had been dating for a while but he never thought he’d embarrass himself like that in front of Shadow of all people, he felt his cheeks grow rosy.

“I-I’m sorry you had to see that…” Sonic mumbled bashfully, averting his gaze as best as he could. Shadow couldn’t help but chuff playfully.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, I’m the one who's sorry, I- I should have been more careful. I had no idea your fear of water was this bad, you shouldn’t need to feel as if you have to hide this side of you. We’re partners.” He spoke softly, leaving a small peck at the base of his ear, it twitched from the ticklish display. Sonic hummed and pressed a chaste kiss against the nape of his neck.

“Although… the reaction I saw today, there was more to it, wasn’t there?” Sonic froze, his eyes blanked and Shadow realized his misstep.

“Forgive me, you don’t need to answer that if you’re not comfortable.” He backtracked. Sonic sat up a bit and huffed softly.

“No no, it’s- it’s fine. It’s just not something I’ve ever really told anyone… but I don’t mind telling you… if that’s okay?” He couldn’t help but hesitate, unsure. Shadow gave him a nod of reassurance and Sonic exhaled shakily.

“W-well I’ve never been a fan of water, I can’t swim. Obviously.” He chuckled awkwardly as he rested his head against his white chest fur again.

“But- my time on the… Death Egg wasn’t very helpful either.” He began to fidget with the soft fluffy chest fur, anxious. Shadow furrowed his eyebrows, feeling a pit in his stomach with where this was going.

“They um… tortured me a lot and well waterboarding was…the most common.” He felt his voice begin to fizzle out, waver and his lip quivering back a small sob. He clung to Shadow, he didn’t really understand it but he felt shameful about it, afraid to look into his lover’s eyes. Afraid that he’d think less of him or that he was weak, he knew deep down he wouldn’t but the what-ifs always nagged at the back of his mind.

Shadow felt his blood turn cold. He knew that Sonic had endured a lot during those six months but seeing Sonic after those events, with his signature smirk and goofy behavior, he had just assumed he would be fine, had he been hiding all this the whole time? Would he need to suggest counseling? He wasn’t against the idea, he himself did it but would only offer if Sonic was interested. His mind swirled with worry for his boyfriend and rage towards Eggman and Infinite, all the ways he could make them pay for everything.

“Hey, I can hear you thinking from here, I’m okay now, that’s what matters.” Sonic smiled solemnly and sat up. He cupped Shadow’s face and kissed him deeply. Shadow held his hands and looked into his emerald eyes

“You know if you ever need to talk, I know that’s not something we’re very skilled at, but I’m here… if you need me. There are professionals to that I-” Shadow cleared his throat, a little embarrassed to admit he had a therapist.

“I attend therapy every now and then, if you’re interested I can help you with that.” Shadow shied a bit, holding hands as he lowered them down to their laps. Sonic squeezed them in return and smiled softly.

“We can talk more about that later, we should get back, I feel bad that the others are probably really worried, ugh I’m embarrassed.” Sonic cringed a bit, ears downcast a bit as scrunched his nose and gave an awkward smile.

“It’s alright, I’m notifying Rouge, we’re going home. She’ll swing by with the remainder of our belongings-” Shadow paused in the middle of his message. And looked up with a grimace. 

“I- apologize. I ruined your book, I promise I’ll replace it tomorrow.” 

Sonic beamed at him with a dopey grin.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” He wrapped his peach arms around broad ebony shoulders and peppered silly kisses to a tan check. Shadow’s heart fluttered giddily.

“Practically every morning and- I love you as well.” They shared a very slow and very tender kiss, Shadow leaning more into Sonic’s space. Sonic lost his balance and flopped on his back, quills splayed in the pale brown dirt. He giggled infectiously.

“When we get home, can we do snacks and a movie date?” He asked excitedly, Shadow hovered over him, striped arms boxing him in. He smiled and shook his head playfully. He sat back up, pulling Sonic along with him.

“Of course, let me finish the message.” They stood up and brushed the dirt off themselves and Shadow sent his message. 

They linked hands and began heading home. Walking through patches of shade and sunlight that beamed through the leaves. Sonic hummed a playful tune and swayed their joined hands back and forth along to the beat.

“So what are we watching?” Shadow inquires.

“Oh, obviously The Barbie movie.” He teased. Shadow looked begrudgingly at him with a scowl.

“Fine, if that’s what you want, love.” Sonic knew he was feigning disinterest. His black tail was a dead giveaway that he was excited to watch it.

“Oh definitely.” Sonic bumped his hip against Shadow’s, egging him on as he giggled.

“Come on! Race ya, slowpoke!” He sped off before Shadow could say anything. The ebony hedgehog exhaled softly through his nose, smiling warmly, and raced after the blue blur.

[h0efor2ho]

RUN

Hongjoong X Reader

Based on my head cannon of Ateez; Who's a Dom, Sub Or Switch

WC :1.6K

TW : Primal play, degrading, name calling ( bitch, slut), jealous HJ, Marking, Unprotected ( dont do this ) Cream pie,

The car ride home was silent. The only sound in the cab being the hum of the engine and Hongjoong's soft breathing. He hadn't said a single word since you came back to your table from the bar, informing you that you two would be leaving the award dinner early. You knew something was bothering him but you knew better then to push him about it. So here you sat wordlessly as you watched the street lights pass by your window. It didn't take long for you to pull up the long drive way to your shared home. He puts the car in park but made no move to turn the engine off. 

You look over at him deciding to finally break the silence. "Joong what's wrong?" you ask as soft as possible. You watch as he slowly turns to face you, his hand coming up to cup your face. He leans in and places a soft kiss to your lips, pulling back slightly to look you in the eyes. You feel his breath fan over your face as he speaks "Did you have a nice chat with Bang Chan tonight?" His voice calm. So that's what this had been about. The two mens groups have spent a lot of time together over the years with Woo and Changbin being best friends. 

"Really Joong" you look him in the eyes "He was congratulating me on our engagement and complimenting on what a good job you did on picking out my ring" again he leans in and kisses your lips. "He couldn't take his eyes off you" he says against your lips before pressing into them again. This time you can feel the force behind it. "He was just being polite" you murmur back. He once again pulls back, this time his hand slides down to grab your chin. "You should know better then to be overly friendly with other people my love" You watch as he licks his lips, his eyes visibly changing as his demeanor does as well "you belong to me" 

You can feel your heart rate spiking as you watch him, watching you. "I know I do Joong" you breathe out. "Oh but I don't think you do my pet" he laughs, his grip on your chin tightening a bit. He leans in for one more bruising kiss before pulling away, a sinister smile creeps along his lips as he says one singular word that sends a chill down your spine...

"Run"

Your eyes widen as your breath hitches. He leans back in his seat as he starts counting down from 60 "60, 59, 58.." you quickly undo your seat belt before throwing open the car door and taking off toward your house. You can hear the amusement in his voice behind you as he keeps counting. You race up the front steps, you fingers shaking as you punch the code into the front door keypad. Quickly making your way inside you close and lock the door behind you, hoping it will buy your a few seconds. Racing down the long hallway you throw your heels off, your bare feet meeting the cold marble of the floor. Your mind is racing, you need to find a place to hid and fast before he makes his way in the house. 

You opt for one of the large closets in the bathroom on the main floor of the house, but not before throwing your purse on the steps, trying to make it look like you made your way up there. Quickly you situate yourself in the closet, opting to leave the door open a crack due to the loud click the handle makes. Just as you close the door you hear your front door open and close again. The house taking on an eerily quiet atmosphere. Then you hear it, Hongjoongs heavy footsteps as he makes his way deeper into the house. 

"Oh were is my good girl?" he bellows out from the front of the house. The possessiveness in his voice sending a shock right to your core. "Come out, come out where ever you are!" You hear him walk around for what feels like forever before you finally hear the bathroom door open. You press your hand over your mouth to keep from saying something or for your heavy breathing to be heard. You hear his foots steps grow closer then just stop "Did you think you could really hide  from me you stupid slut" he says with a chuckle before yanking the door open. You let out a small yelp as light floods the small closest. There he is standing in the doorway, glaring at you with hard eyes. 

Before you can utter one word he has you in his arms, mouth crashing into yours. A vice grip on your arms. "You'v been a bad girl" he whispers against your temple. His hands coming to roam your body. "You know what happens to bad girls right" His voice is husky and deep and you're going to have to change your panties after this from how wet it gets you. "What are you going to do to me Joong?" you ask him in a small voice. He doesn't dignify you with a response, his mouth already exploring your neck as he spins you and pushes you back against the counter. His hands coming to your thighs pushing your dress up aggressively.

He lets out a growl when his hand comes in contact with your core and how wet your panties are. "Filthy slut, what did hearing how he couldn't stop looking at you turn you on?" His hand pulling back before coming forward again giving your clothed covered cunt a smack before gently rubbing it. A small moan leaves your throat at the action. " This pussy is mine and only mine" Your head thrown back as his other hand comes up to grip your breast through your dress. "To many layers" he growls as he grabs the neckline of your gown and tears it in half. The shards hanging from your body, your chest on full display for him. "Such a little slut, no bra" he coos as his head dips down, taking one of your hard nipples into his mouth. His warm tongue flicks your it before he get gently clamps his teeth around it.

"Fuckk" you cry out. He pulls off with a pop of his mouth. "Turn around" he says as he all but does it for you. The front of your hips meeting the edge of the counter. You look up and lock eyes with him in the mirror as you watch him push your dress up around your hips. You hear the clink of his belt buckle before you feel a weight of his heavy cock against your wet hole. "You have been such a fucking whore tonight" he says as he slides the tip of his dick up and down your slit "I planned on eating this pussy tonight but you wanted to be like that so now you get no prep" he growls as he shoves himself into. The sound that comes from you is almost inhuman. 

No matter how many times he fucks you, you think you will never get used to how long his cock is. Joong hits places no one else can inside you. He gives you no time to adjust as he sets a brutal and punishing pace. His hips snapping back and forth crashing into your ass with each thrust. Your hips are smashed against the hard counter and you know there will be buses tomorrow. You almost cant take how he keeps hitting the same sweet spot inside you. Your head dropping down go rest on your hands before you feel a sharp pain in the back of your scalp. 

"You will look at me while I fuck your cunt slut" he growls out yanking your head up by your hair. Bending over he latches onto your neck, bitting and sucking on it, littering your skin with pretty red and purple marks. Marking you as his again. Your moans coming out in broken gasps as he has that spot in you again and again. It doesn't take long before his thrusts start to falter, his erratic rhythm changing ever so slightly that tells you hes close. With one hand still twinned in your hair making you look at him, he snakes the other around your body and finds your clit. 

Rubbing small circles against your swollen nerve has your vision spotting. "That's it, that's my good little slut. Cum all over my cock for me baby. Do this for me and I'll fill you up" Its to much for you to handle, and your vaulted over the edge. Your body spasming as you contract and grip his cock tight. Pulsing around him as he drives in and out of you. It only takes a few more thrusts before hes rutting into you, grunting out curse after curse as he empties himself deep in you. You two stay like this for a moment, feeling your bodies joined as one. He gently releases your hair, letting your head settle on your hands, still looking up at him. 

He looks down as he slowly pulls out of you, watching as his cum starts to dribble out of your swollen hole. He quickly takes two fingers, scooping it up and pushing it back in. You let out a throaty moan at the pain yet it feels good. You watch as Hongjoong quickly reaches for a wash cloth from the closet behind him, wetting it with warm water he makes quick work of cleaning you up. Slowly he helps you stand up straight, turning you to look at him. You watch as he scans your body, his eyes falling on the marks on your neck and chest. 

"Let's try and see someone flirt with you now" he smirks down at you as he places a soft kiss on your lips "Your mine pretty baby"