#i was too ill and watched it in such short snatches

[skullvgirl]

attractive things they do | bllk

incl. isagi, bachira, gagamaru, kunigami, naruhaya, nagi, reo, barou, shidou, chigiri, raichi, niko, zantetsu, sae, rin, ego, ayru

warnings. fem reader, probably ooc, established relationship, suggestive

an's.

isagi likes laying his head between your lap, he says their soft like pillows and he likes squishing them like stressballs. ( which they kinda are if you ask him ) he especially loves to lay in your lap while you comb through his hair ; talking about whatever it is that you're talking about as your sexy soothing voice calms him to the brink of extinction sleep.

bachira says he would live under your skin if he could. and you wholeheartedly believe him. he's always touching you, he feels insane around you ( not that he already isnt ) and it makes him giddy. the thought of being able to be with you 25/8 365 days a year always next too him. ( he watches you while you sleep ) .

gagamaru puts all his weight on you when your cuddling. in the way it feels like a weighted blanket so that you dont have any sort of urge to leave him. he's quite direct with you if you attempt to leave however. its always 'yn, where are you going, ill get cold if you leave so stay please'.

kunigami kisses your knuckles without thought, all the time. he usually does it when the conversation is deep and unintentionally holds the longest eye contact with you—all while he's grazing his lips over your fingers as he listens to you speak.

naruhaya is a share-er, and despite having to share his whole life ( curtesy his many siblings ) he doesnt mind sharing with you some more. it's like second nature for him to break, split or divide whatever it is he has for you so that both you and him can have a piece.

nagi likes resting his head on the top of yours, no matter your height he'll bend himself over to snuggle the underside of his chin against your hair, his large arms wrapped perfectly around your neck, squishing your cheeks together in endless bliss.

reo sticks money between your bra. his favorite thing to do is push 100 dollar bills in between your cleavage ( mostly so he can feel you up ) and see how easily your arguing fades away. on a side note he probably does this in bed too but instead of your breasts its used as a gag too soften the exponentially loud moans you emit.

its might sound cliche but barou has a hand around your waist, all the time. its his outward show of affection to let everyone in the vicinity know he's yours and your his. his hands like resting on your hips ( and your hip dips ) out of habit now, and it honestly feels more weird too have his hands off your hips than on them.

shidou likes holding onto the loop your belt buckles, specifically the one right on your hip. he likes tugging at it and pulling you towards him—mostly when he wants a innocent kiss, other times when he's hot and bothered, and needs you as close to him as possible. sometimes he'll slide his two fingers back and forth between a loop and the next one, if you ask him about it hell say he's 'just practicing'.

chigiri has an obsession with your neck, especially when it's exposed. you say its sensive so he likes to tease you, lightly grazing his fingers over it or even kissing the most sensitive spots so that you squirm and giggle all the while he thinks about when he could snatch a chance and bite it.

raichi runs his tounge over his teeth, alot. letting the sparkley white shine with giddy thoughts and damn is it hot. he mostly does it when your telling him a story or when you're trying on clothes for him and the most he could manage without pouncing on you is a grin and tounge across his teeth.

niko is like your shadow. some could even say he has scary dog privileges ( i know, hear me out ) he's not terribly short ( 173 cm or 5'8 ) and the hair that covers his face can kind of give him a scary look, especially when his big green eyes death stare all the guys that try and hit on you. it runs them out trust me.

zantetsu despite being rather slow to understand somethings and hardly knows what he's talking about sometimes can defend you in a conversation like crazzzyyy, he knows you well and honestly sometimes just likes talking about you, even if someones not attacking you.

sae has the biggest softspot for you, but on the down low. he'll never admit and he's different about showing it but man. if you could hear his thoughts and you though him, you'd be blown away. at the store: i wonder if she'd like something like this..i remember she was twiking me about it one day... as he's speaking to you : wow i cannot stop looking at her eyes, i think thats a new mascara she's wearing. i should tell her it looks pretty on her. only he never does these things because he's emotional constipated and hasn't found a reason yet to fix it.

rin is clingy but like his brother, on the downlow. he actually 10x more emotionaly constipated than his older brother and his attachment to you is 10x worse. he's got the cutest way about asking though ; he'll hold onto your shirt like a little kid or even pout when you try to leave him. (#abandonmentissueswho?)

ego has petnames he only uses for you, hes the type of husband that is super evil too the boys but falls quickly under your pressuring gaze. he obviously isn't to fond of many things much less people but i can say for a fact he cares for you like he wouls himself ( which i guess if you really think about it, not all that much but you get my point —) .

ayru twirls your hair when you kiss, his own longer hair covering all the action while you two smooch like lovebirds in a tree. it's so thick and luscious that whenever you guys kiss, hardly anyone can see because its like a sheild in your face.

an's. this took a lifetime omgg, anyways more parts too the 100 SKULLHEADS special out soon, check my events masterlist too see whats next !

[halfwayhearted]

Just cute Lamine yamal x girlfriend!reader fluff pls

In Your Arms — Lamine Yamal.

Pairing: Lamine Yamal x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have a stuffed animal he hadn’t noticed before, and the moment he spots it, playful teasing follows.

Word Count: 420+

Disclaimer/s — Fluff!

A/N: Super short, but! This makes me ill, so… thank.

Peaceful. This moment right here was peaceful.

You and your boyfriend were lying in bed. His head rested on your lap while you both watched a movie on your TV. However, you found more joy in gently tracing your fingers down his face. Starting at the bridge of his nose, moving down to his jawline, and up to his ears. Then repeating the soothing motion all over again.

Saying you were content would probably just be putting it mildly. An understatement.

It seems you’ve spoken way too soon at the sight of him shifting slightly. His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he feels something near his hip. Lifting his arm, he shuffles it under the blanket and pulls out something that quite literally makes you flush in complete and utter embarrassment.

“What’s this?” He asked, his smile melding into a smirk. “I didn’t know you had a stuffed animal.”

You tried to play it off. “Who doesn’t?”

“I don’t.” Oh, right. Right, of course. Awkward.

“Well... everyone's different,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. All he does is laugh in response, causing your eyes to narrow.

“Hm. Yeah, yeah, everyone is,” the boy muttered. “Let me ask you this: how old are you?”

Your eyes widen at that, and you reach forward to snatch the blue stuffed bunny out from his hands, your face flushing even more. “I think I might have to break up with you after that, not kidding.”

Lamine’s eyebrows pinch together, slowly using his elbow to prop himself up. “What? Uh, no.”

“Uh, yes,” a pause, “Jerk.”

“No—hey, I love you, and I love...” he trailed off, looking at you expectantly. You realized what it was he was wanting you to say.

“Oh! I don’t know. It changes, like, everyday.”

He nods, “Well, I love… it?”

“You’re so only saying that because you don’t want to end up single.” You giggled softly, but all he did was huff and snatch the bunny back into his grasp. Resting his head back onto your lap, he looked over at the TV, his fingers subconsciously messing with the animal’s arms and legs, the sight making your heart flutter in your chest. So, leaning down, you placed a small kiss to the edge of his eyebrow, that being the only place you could really reach. “Hey, okay, I love you, too.”

His triumph was clear, “You’re just saying that because you thought I was being serious.”

“Do you actually want to be single, let me know.”

“No!” He quickly replies, “I love you.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ

[ireadwithmyears]

Absent mindedly making me want you

Pairing: Ellie Williams / female reader

Word count : 12 K 💀 I swear it’s worth it I just really wanted a well rounded story even if this is just a one shot

Summary : 

Due to her first-hand experience when it comes to drowning, Ellie takes it upon herself to teach you how to swim. Something that neither of you had anticipated, however, was how intimate this endeavour would be, resulting in a day filled with unresolved sexual tension, that, unsurprisingly and inevitably comes to ahead

Tags/warnings : established relationship, soo much sexual tension, smut (18+, MDNI), porn with minor plot, dom/sub undertones, soft dom Ellie, submissive reader, inexperienced reader (first time), light hair pulling, unsafe lesbian sex, fingering, oral (F receiving), face sitting, lots of dirty talk(bc you cannot convince me that Ellie doesn’t have an absolutely filthy mouth), praise kink, overstimulation, forced orgasm, multiple orgasms, pussy slapping (just once), aftercare, fluff, no use of Y/N

“I’m sorry, wait, hold on. You’re telling me you’ve never learned how to swim?”

The settlement of Jackson has been dealing with, hopefully, the last of its winter storms for the year. Spring had crept its way around the corner, shining its promisingly hopeful rays of warm sunlight for a few, blissfully beautiful, but in the end, all two short days

But then, in what must be mother nature’s idea of a harmless joke, it was crudely snatched away and replaced with icy winds that seemed to settle within your very core, leaving you shivering long after you went inside to get warm. Wyoming had been hit with a blizzard that had caught everyone so off guard, that Jackson was ill-equipped and unprepared to handle it, leaving most of the community snowed in; workloads being much reduced and limited to essential services for the time being, until the snow abated.

This is how you and a group of friends found yourselves in Jesse’s living room, cradling mugs of hot chocolate, enjoying the warmth that seeped into your fingertips, and making a blanket fort as if you were still school children at a sleepover. The snowy days and lack of work seemed to bring out a childish side to everyone, which is how you found yourself engaged in a game of never have I ever, sitting in a tight circle with your friends and girlfriend who, up until a few seconds ago, had been absent mindedly playing with your hair, your head resting against her shoulder, where you had been quite content to stay.

But, she had now pulled back, looking at you with her eyebrows raised, lips quirked down quizzically, as if in thought. You look around at your friends, taking note of everyone else who’s never learned. You’re relieved to find that you’re not alone in this. As expected, the Jackson old-timers, the few of you who have been settled here almost your whole lives, or at least, as long as you could remember, had never encountered an environment that required the ability to swim.

“Nope, it’s never been necessary.” You shrug. 

She tilts her head, thinking, a few wisps of auburn hair escaping her ponytail as she regards you, teeth lightly grazing the bottom of her lip as she appears to be calculating an idea in her mind.

“As soon as it gets warm enough, I’m taking you out, and I'm gonna teach you. Joel taught me because he said that I would never know when it was a skill that would become necessary for me to have until it’s too late,” she says, nodding to herself decisively.

“Ah, I see your dad‘s passed off his overprotectiveness onto you,” you smirk, rolling your eyes fondly.

She hits you with a pillow for that. 

“Quiet, you,” she says in mock offense.

She pokes your belly lightly and you instinctively jump back with a surprised squeal. You hear the quiet amusement of your friends, Jesse barely containing a snort as he watches. You’re about to utter a retort when she reaches out, pulling you against her, settling you on her lap, where you happily go. 

When she presses a chaste kiss to your lips, hand settling at the back of your neck, fingers brushing against your skin, leaving goosebumps to form beneath their eager caresses, any kind of argument dies on your lips. Resistance melts as if it hadn’t been there in the first place, and all thoughts scatter like butterflies, only landing on the one thing that you care to focus on. 

It’s her, with her teasing lips and wandering hands, that explore and touch you as if she wants to know you, to memorize you, like you’re her well-kept and cherished secret. She is the only thing that surrounds your mind, the only one who holds your attention so easily, and it takes you a moment to shake yourself free of this haze. It’s strange, and euphoric, a kind of feeling that you’ve never felt before, and you find that you like it – instantly craving more the second that her lips leave yours.

She's kissed you plenty of times before, and though it’s always been an enjoyable experience for you, it’s never felt like that. You decide to file that information away for now; you’ll sort out whatever the fuck these new feelings are later. 

When you do come back to yourself, your head nestled against her shoulder, her arms wrapped around you as she looks down at you with warm, soft eyes, you think, yeah, you’ll let her teach you how to swim. You’ll let her do whatever she goddamn pleases, as long as it means that she’ll keep kissing you like that, and bringing out those good kind of butterflies that flutter in your stomach whenever she’s close to you.

*

To your surprise, Ellie makes good on her promise at the earliest opportunity.

In your experience, life is full of making plans and dreams that, more often than not, fall through. Even here, even in Jackson, where the walls are fortified and everyone is protected, the act of planning future endeavours is a luxury.

Spring finally comes , for real this time, with its customary blend of warmer weather that makes everyone instinctively turn their faces towards the sun, tentatively brushing its heat against their skin. And then, in complete juxtaposition, rain that starts in a slight drizzle that quickly descends into a downpour that sends those who’d ventured outside to appreciate the sunlight running back inside, scrambling to find cover, while quietly grumbling that they wish it was summer already, if only so that they could be freed from this topsy-turvy weather. 

Humans are funny like that, you suppose. Never fully able to live in the moment, always wishing for the next season the second spring reveals its more wild side. They forget that the scorching heat of summer will have them complaining and wishing for autumn to come faster in a few months.

Nonetheless, it’s early summer, and you find yourself riding astride Ellie’s mare, Hazel, whose step is light and carefree, tale gently swishing in the warm breeze as you make your way to a clearing with a lake, a few miles out from Jackson’s gates. You’ve taken up the rear position, head resting against your girlfriend's back, arms wrapped around her waist.

From her position, she can’t see the expression on your face, the way you worry. Your bottom lip is between your teeth until it starts to bleed, because quite honestly, you’re nervous. Your instinct is to hide your feelings from her, because it feels silly.  “A tough girl like you all freaked out over a little water?” You can almost hear her snark in your head. Logically, you know she wouldn’t say that, not to you, at least. But you can’t help but wonder if she’d think it. 

You also know, however, that the minute you’re off this horse and she turns to look at you, she’ll read right through any bullshit or lies you come up with in an instant. Ellie’s just that kind of person; able to read right through people without them even having to say a word. So, as the bird chatter accompanies the beat of Hazel’s hooves against the ground, you speak, softly, tentatively, half-wishing that she won’t hear, almost hoping that your words will be carried off in the slight breeze that ruffles the braid against your back, delicately freeing strands of your hair.

“You know, I’m actually kinda fucking scared to do this,” you figure if you’re going to admit this, it’s just best to rip the Band-Aid off. 

She holds the reins one-handed as her other comes to squeeze your wrist gently. 

“Can you tell me why?”

You sigh, feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you rest your chin against her shoulder. She’s so warm and steady, confident and self-assured in a way that you couldn’t even attempt to replicate. 

She senses your unease, moving her thumb beneath the thin material of your sweater, stroking against the skin of your inner wrist. She lets it rest at the point where she feels your pulse lightly fluttering beneath her. 

“Hey.” Her voice is soft, encouraging, “Talk to me, Sweetheart, you’ve got absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

Her thumb resumes its movement, stroking back-and-forth along the inside of your wrist, soothing away the knot that’s begun to tie itself in your stomach.

“It’s stupid, I know. It’s just, I’m scared that I’m gonna drown, or something dumb like that,” you roll your eyes, feeling a little bit pathetic. 

“It’s not stupid,” you’re not surprised that she’s come to your defence so quickly, but the conviction in her voice gives you pause.

She continues, “I almost drowned, once. Well, I guess it wasn’t almost, I did drown, though I don’t remember the details. It was before Joel had taught me how to swim, probably what made him decide that he had to. But, when he did, it took me the longest time to get over my fear. Every time I so much as touched the water, my mind would bring me back to that moment where I thought I was about to die.”

Her voice is sheepish, nonchalant, but you scoot closer to her on the saddle nonetheless, wrapping your arms just a little tighter around her waist.

“My point is, if you would have seen me when I was fourteen, the way Joel would have to coax me into the water bit by bit, you wouldn’t believe I’m the same person now. Now, I can be assured that whenever I go into the water, nothing’s going to happen to me that I can’t handle.” 

She takes your hand in hers, and her voice is completely serious when she speaks now.

“Baby, you know I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, right?” 

In spite of your nerves, you know the answer to this question immediately. It’s not even a question, really, you know without even having to think about it that she’ll keep you safe, protect you with her life if necessary, and you nod aggressively, even before she finishes speaking.

“I know, Elles.”

She gives your hand a squeeze. 

“Good, because if my 14-year-old freshly traumatized from actually drowning ass can learn how to swim, I am fully confident in your abilities.”

Hazel trots on, and for the first time since you headed out today, you feel a genuine smile pulling the corners of your lips upward, your laughter accompanying the birdsong as you ride on.

*

“That’s it, just lean back into me, I gotcha.”

She’s teaching you how to float on your back, first, and as you lean against her and lower yourself into the water, you swear you feel the peak of one of her nipples, hardened from the cold, poking through the flimsy material of her tank top, brushing against your back as you submerge yourself. You have to fight to keep your expression neutral, trying not to betray anything on your face. If she asks why you’re blushing, you’ll just say it’s because of the heat.

Her hand holds you up, pressing into the small of your back as she instructs you, and it’s nice, the heat that radiates from the warmth of her skin. You feel it through your tank top, and maybe it’s because the water is cold and it’s heightening all of your senses, or maybe it’s because you’re in a pair of underwear and a tank top, feeling very exposed to your girlfriend in a way that you’ve never been with anyone, but you’re getting goosebumps, and you know for a fact that it has nothing to do with you being cold.

You hope to yourself that the feeling of having her hands on you will get easier throughout the day, because for some inexplicable reason, the feeling of her hand pressing against you like this is making it hard to focus on what she’s actually saying.

*

You quickly discover that it does not get easier as the day goes on. 

It actually gets so much fucking harder to bear as the sun begins to sail higher in the sky.

When she’s about to teach you how to kick, her hands ghost over your hips, making you jump. 

“Sorry, hun, I should’ve asked,” she apologizes softly.

You can’t bring yourself to look at her, and have to temper your voice to not sound eager as you respond. “No, you’re good, go ahead, I'm just cold, that’s all.”

When her hands caress your sides before settling against your hips, your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, trying to contain the gasp that wants to escape. 

Is she truly that fucking unaware of what she’s doing to you? 

The skin where her fingers had trailed over tingles, and you have to give your head a slight shake to clear it, because that touch, regardless of how innocently meant it might’ve been to her, suddenly makes you want to get on your knees and beg her to touch you like that again.

You want more.

*

You learn the mechanics of how to propel yourself through the water, arms and legs separately. When it comes time to put the two together, Ellie eases you onto your stomach. The water is still shallow, your toes can still touch the ground. This was as deep as you’d be going today, she had told you, making you feel relieved.

“I’m just gonna put a hand on your stomach to hold you up. You’re still gonna have my help, I’m right here,” you’re stomach muscles tense when her hand lightly presses against it. She must think you’re nervous, because she gently strokes her thumb up and down between your rib cage, in a way that should be reassuring, but in reality, makes heat radiate from between your legs. You’re grateful that she can’t see your face, because the small pool of wetness that blossoms against your panties is undeniable now, and it makes your cheeks heat.

Okay, so you have to admit it now. You’re horny. In spite of the fact that you’ve never had sex and you haven’t been ready to take that step before today, as you slowly move through the water, feeling her hand pressing against your stomach, so close but so, so far from where you want her to be, you know that you want her, in a way that you’ve never wanted anyone before. 

“At a girl, just like that,” she says encouragingly, and you swear you can feel your thigh muscles clenching involuntarily, thoughts drifting to a very different scenario in which she’d utter those words.

*

It’s late afternoon, the sun is high in the sky, warming your shoulders as you stand in the water. You’ve long ago adjusted to its cool, murky depths, and you’re not on edge anymore. 

At least you weren’t, until Ellie suggests that to finish off the day, you try moving a little bit on your own. Your eyebrows raise, in obvious alarm, and her hands settle on your shoulders, quick to reassure you.

“You won’t have to go far, I’ll be right in front of you, I promise, all you need to do is just keep coming towards me.” 

You tilt your head, considering. Yes, you’ve grown accustomed to the water, but whenever you’ve been moving, she’s always had a hold on you, and you felt safe, knowing that there wasn’t even a chance that you would go under. 

Seeing your still evident hesitation, Ellie steps closer, a hand grazing against your waist as she presses her lips to your forehead briefly, before she speaks, her voice low and teasing against your ear.

“Can you do it for me?” She says softly. Her fingers are tracing slow, enticing circles over your waist, soothing you, but making you feel all worked up at the same time. 

She’s so close that you can feel her lips brush against your ear when she speaks, and you can’t hide the shiver that runs down your spine. You’ve lost the ability to form coherent thought, for the moment, and you have to mentally kick yourself to push your mind back into any semblance of reality. God, if she asks you like that, you’ll do anything.

You don’t say that, though. You only nod meekly, not trusting your voice to be controlled when you speak. 

When her hand gives your hip an appreciative squeeze, you feel her breath ghost against the curve of your neck as she speaks. “Good girl,” she practically purrs, a quiet, low hum against your ear that makes your knees buckle so hard that you have to dig your feet into the sand beneath you so that you don’t faceplant into the water.

When she pulls back, taking slow, tentative steps away from you, she knows that you’re watching her every move. She can feel your eyes burning into her, the further she moves away, nerves making you fidget with the hem of your top. When she’s several metres away, she reaches out a hand, beckoning.

“Okay, c’mere, Baby Girl.” 

Her voice is low, persuasive, encouraging you forward. But it still takes you a solid 30 seconds of anxiously staring at her before you actually begin to move. She stands, arms folded, patiently waiting for you to give in, because she knows that sooner or later, you will.

She’s not that far away, not really. She still would easily be able to reach her arms out, steadying you if somehow, even in this shallow water, you managed to bring yourself under. Still, when you kick back, and you no longer feel the assurance of the soft sand against your feet, or Ellie‘s arm wrapped securely around your stomach to hold you up, you freeze. She notices instantly, and her voice is quick to call you back, bringing your racing heart back down with a few, gentle words.

“Hey, eyes on me.” 

You swim forward, it’s unsure and hesitant, but at least you’re moving. You can’t always keep your eyes on her, but when your head is lowered to the water, you can always hear her voice, which she uses to get you to keep going. 

“That’s it, almost there.” 

She eggs you on, making your limbs instinctively move faster, cutting through the water with an almost desperate urge to get to her. You’re reaching for her, arms ready to wrap around her waist when she meets you halfway, scooping you up into her arms.

“That’s my girl,” she whispers against your lips, cradling the back of your head as she pulls you in. Your eyes flutter shut, and you can’t help the small sigh that she elicits from you as she lowers her head to kiss you. Her lips meet yours in a slow, soft caress, searing as her touch sets your skin alight with heat. Instinctively, only half aware of what you’re doing, your legs wrap around her waist, desperately pulling yourself against her with a sudden need that is too strong to be contained.

When her hand, tangled in your hair, gently pulls, forcing your head back as she deepens the kiss, your mouth falling open as her tongue teases past your lips, you are unable to hold back the little moan that escapes you, scalp tingling at the sensation of her fingers, curled against strands of your wet hair, holding tight, keeping you exactly where she wants you. 

She’s so close, you realize. Your legs wrapped around her like this, your heat pressed so near to hers. It’s enough to send your thoughts reeling. Every nerve ending in your body is alive with want and need. 

Her hand makes a slow path, warm, delicate fingers journeying from your waist all the way up to the peak of your breast, leaving a trail of goosebumps to form in their wake. Her hand rests against you, leaving you warm and wanting, and just when you think that you can’t handle any more, she moves her thumb in a slow, deliberate caress over your perked, hardened nipple, which, at this point, your tank top, with its thin, soaked through material that clings to your every curve, leaves little up to her imagination. She can see you, she can see all of you. Your breath shutters, the smallest sound of want, of need, of desperation escaping your throat in a choked, pleading moan that has your back arching.

And that’s when Hazel makes her displeasure and boredom known, letting out a loud, displeased nay of indignation as she stamps her hooves against the ground.

The noise is so sudden, so out of the blue, disrupting the sounds of the water gently lapping around you, and the ambiance of nature that you’ve grown quite accustomed to hearing over the past few hours, that it makes you both jump. You startle so hard that you nearly fall into the waters below, jolting back as your head whips around to discover the source of the noise. Ellie’s arms are secure, though, you feel her adjusting her hold on you, wrapping them around you tighter. She too frantically searches the area around you for signs of trouble.

When you realize that you’re in no imminent danger, and that it’s just Hazel being her typical, dramatic self, you both look at each other, and simultaneously, slow smiles creep across your faces. She can feel you begin to shake with laughter. All the adrenaline leaves your body in a relieved, sudden rush that escapes with the quiet, barely contained snort that you desperately try to hold back. After that, it’s over. Ellie’s face buries against your hair as you both begin to laugh uncontrollably.

You feel her breathy, relieved sigh ruffle your hair. “We should probably go see what her problem is – knowing Hazel, a mosquito probably landed on her and she freaked the fuck out. God, that horse is such a drama queen.” 

She rolls her eyes, but there’s an underlying affection that she can’t keep out of her voice, even if she tries.

“Probably saw us kissing and was offended. Maybe she’s homophobic,” you quip, chuckling. 

Ellie gasps in mock horror. “I practically raised that horse, there’s no fucking way,” you both laugh as she begins to move towards the shore, you cradled against her with your head on her shoulder.

*

Riding back to Jackson when you’re extremely sexually worked up, it turns out, is no fun. 

Your girlfriend, as much as you love her, is doing nothing to help the situation. 

In general, Ellie prefers to ride horses that are the most chaotic, and that carry attitudes that make them almost borderline untrainable. She says it’s because she can empathize with them, she listens to them in a way that no one else does. 

You think, privately, that it’s because it scares the shit out of Joel. He lives in constant fear that Hazel is going to throw Ellie off, sending his already accident prone daughter home with a broken leg and a concussion. You swear, Ellie enjoys getting a rise out of him, making his heart race with all of the reckless shit that she does.

Hazel has been sitting still for too long, and is now thoroughly enjoying the freedom of being able to trot about; she tries to take advantage of it regardless of the cargo on her back, making for a bumpy ride. 

You’re riding in front, this time, and every time you hit an unavoidable bump, Ellie rests her hands on your hips. She claims that she’s doing it to keep you steady, make sure that you don’t fall off the horse. but, you know better. You know an ulterior motive when you see one. The way that her hands linger, fingers slowly teasing At the edge of your still damp top, drawing slow, light circles against the exposed skin she finds beneath, suggesting that she has other plans in mind. It makes you shiver.

“You cold, baby?” Her voice is low against your ear, the unexpected proximity making you jump. She cannot be serious. Even though it’s late afternoon, evening fast approaching, the day is still scorching, hence why you’ve opted out of wearing your sweater on the way back. You didn’t even want to put on shorts over your damp underwear, but alas, you still had some shred of modesty left, not wanting to make whoever was stationed to guard Jackson’s gates uncomfortable.

When her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against her, you swear that you can feel her hips slowly moving as she grinds against you suggestively. Her lips brush against the bare skin of your shoulder, lingering as her warm breath ghosts against your skin, caressing against your neck with its heat. You can’t hold back your gasp at the feeling.

One of her hands travels down, settling against your knee with a gentle squeeze. 

“How’s that, Baby Girl, is that better?”

God! 

If she doesn’t fuck you soon, you swear you’re gonna kill her. Or, at this rate, she’s gonna kill you first with the way she’s sending your heart racing like that.

*

If you had thought that getting home, changing into a fresh pair of clothes, and giving yourself the chance to calm your racing heart would magically put an end to whatever was stirring up inside of you, you were sadly incorrect in your assumptions.

You’re sitting on the couch in your living room, wearing a sundress that falls to your knees because it’s light and you enjoy the slight breeze that it creates when you move. It flutters around your legs gently in the humid air. It might provide next to no relief at all, but it’s still better than nothing. 

Ellie sits across from you in an armchair. Without even looking, you can feel her staring at you, eyes burning into you with a restrained and tempered want. You suspect that she’s holding it back, now wondering if she’s crossed a boundary today and made you uncomfortable. 

That couldn’t be further from the truth, but Ellie is the type of person who acts on impulse, then completely over analyzes and over thinks her actions later, until she’s convinced herself that she’s fucked something up. She’s so bold, so confident in the things she does in the moment. But, in the end, she’s still someone who sometimes needs you to explicitly communicate and validate what she does after the fact. Regardless of how her confidence is so vast, and can sometimes be mistaken for being cocky, on the inside, she’s deeply insecure and needs reassurance.

Glancing up at her through your lashes, seeing the way that she twists and fidgets with the hair elastic on her wrist, the slight frown on her face, the almost guilty way her eyes flit away from you when she sees you looking, you know that she needs that right now, and you fully intend to not just give that to her, but encourage her forward. 

Setting down the book that you weren’t actually reading, just trying to distract yourself with and completely failing, you rise to your feet, and as you move to her, she looks up at you with a smile, slipping back into its place effortlessly.

“Hey, baby, what’s up?” 

Her voice is low and soft, and the way her eyes skim over you, pausing at where your dress falls, the hem barely skimming your knees, makes heat flush at the back of your neck.

“Want somethin’.” 

You admit, crawling into her lap, bracing your hands on her shoulders.

“Yeah? What’s that?” 

She quirks a brow, and the way her eyes smoulder as she looks at you makes you nervous, stomach fluttering with anxious butterflies as she looks intently at you. 

You’ve got her full attention, and now that you do, you don’t know what to do with it. You were fully ready to take the lead on this, but at the end of the day, you’re still shy and inexperienced, and she’s everything that you’re not. To be honest, it’s intimidating, knowing her wealth of experience that you couldn’t even attempt to match. 

The insistent butterflies take flight in your stomach; you decide that the only way forward is by pure instinct, and the blind hope that you won’t embarrass yourself too much.

You lean forward slowly, hesitating slightly until, with understanding, Ellie’s hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you the rest of the way forward until your lips meet hers, and suddenly, you forget exactly what your plan originally was, if you even really had one in the first place. It easily slips out of your mind as you melt against her, effortlessly letting her take the lead. 

Her fingers brush against your lower back, holding you securely against her. This isn’t like your usual, every day kiss, one that starts off slow and gentle. Her lips are insistent, pressing against yours with a desperate, persistent need. Her fingers absently brush against your scalp, running through your hair before cupping the back of your neck, the pressure just firm enough.

All you know is her. Her lips, claiming your mouth with a possessiveness that makes you ache for her inside. Her tongue, swiping over your lips, making you gasp slightly. As your lips part for her, you hear the low, satisfied sound she breathes against you as her tongue pushes past your lips, exploring your mouth with a hunger that you’ve never sensed in her before.

Her thigh pushes between your legs, parting them with ease and settling between them, grazing against your clothed heat. When her hand schemes down your lower back, caressing over your ass, before pressing against it with a firm squeeze, you can’t resist the way your hips buck against her, desperately chasing the friction, unable to hold back the small whimper when you’re clit presses against the rough denim of her cut-offs. 

The sound seems to startle you so much that you still your movements, eyes going wide as Ellie pulls back to look at you. She doesn’t even bother holding back the smirk that overtakes her features.

“Oh, so that’s what you want.” 

Her green eyes darken with want, voice low and gravelly with desire as she studies you, perched on her lap with a needy expression behind your innocent eyes.  Her fingers brush against your hips, teasing over your skin.

Heat flushes against your collarbone, spreading to warm your cheeks as you try to look down, wanting to escape the scrutiny of her piercing gaze. She anticipates your movement, and stops you with a hand coming to curl beneath your chin, making a soft noise of disapproval.

“Look at me, pretty girl, and tell me what you want,” 

Her voice is still soft, still gentle, but there’s a warning edge that’s crept into it, an effortless authority, that sends a jolt straight through you, making your already throbbing clit pulse with anticipation. Her fingers nudge your chin upwards, holding firmly as she directs your eyes to meet hers, smouldering with uncontained lust as she watches you. 

“You.” 

Your answer comes out in barely a breath, barely a whisper. 

“I want you.” 

You feel like your response sounds ridiculous.

It sounds small.

It sounds completely inadequate.

And yet, when Ellie’s hand snakes beneath your dress, fingers toying with the waistband of your panties, her lips brushing against your ear as she says low, “that, sweet girl, I would be happy to oblige.” 

She flexes her thigh up against your heat, rubbing over your swollen clit, making you cry out in surprise.

*

Her shirt hits the floor with a dull thump, pulled off by your eager and curious hands. You want to see her. You want to touch her. You want...

But now that it’s off and she’s looking down at you like that, your brain catches up to your body. What are you doing? What are you supposed to do? You don’t know how to do this. You don’t know where to put your hands, and the idea of fumbling around and embarrassing yourself is enough to make you nervous.

She sees the moment you begin to question yourself and overthink it, in the way that you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, the way your hand flexes, curling into itself with anxiety.  

“Hey,” she says softly, waiting for your eyes to meet hers. Her hands caress up and down the sides of your arms, pulling you from the spiral that your mind was going in, bringing you back to earth with a soothing touch. 

“I know that this is your first time, and I just want you to know that I don’t expect anything of you tonight. The only thing I want is to make you feel good. So just, let me do that, okay?” 

When she leans in, arms wrapping around you, and her lips press against your neck in a slow, seductive kiss, she can feel the shiver that runs down your spine, and she makes a note to remember that you’re sensitive there.

You feel her lips close to your ear as she speaks. 

“Just let me take care of my girl tonight.” 

Her hand schemes down your side, fingers drawing teasing circles over your hip. Your eyes close and your breath comes in a sharp, unsteady inhale and all you can do is look at her, eyes hooded, and say in a shaky voice, “please.”

You feel her low chuckle against your neck. 

“Such pretty manners,” she hums against your skin, before you feel the gentle graze of teeth join her lips, delivering a small, sharp sting that you imagine will leave a mark. 

This thought doesn’t scare you in the way that you thought it would. Your first thought isn’t of how on earth you’re going to cover this up tomorrow. The idea that there will be physical evidence of her, of what she’s doing to you, that there will be a reminder of it in the morning turns you on, sending a thrill through you. 

Her tongue replaces where her teeth had just been, gently soothing over the sting. “Good girl,” she breathes, hand coming up to fiddle with the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I want this off,”

She waits for you to nod your consent, and then she’s sliding the straps off your shoulders, letting it fall. It pools around your waist in a soft brush of its material.

Fingers brush over your stomach, and you shiver with anticipation, already knowing the path they intend to travel over your skin. Her hands graze over your ribs, before she curls them around the curves of your breasts. She looks down at them, cradled in her hands, and her lips curl upward. 

Warm, experienced hands massage and knead your breasts, gentle caresses and squeezes encouraging, coaxing your nipples to harden beneath her touch. Her thumb brushes over one of the hardening buds, and you gasp at even the slightest attention. She seems to relish in drawing sounds from you, her index finger joining her thumb, as she rolls your perked nipple between her fingers, adding the slightest pinch. 

“You’re so fuckin pretty, you know that? The site of these,” she tweaks your other nipple, making your breath stutter, “peeking through your shirt at the lake was teasing me all day.” 

Her face buries against your neck, she becomes rougher, more insistent. Still slow and attentive, but there’s a possessive edge to it as she leaves a trail of marks down your throat, your collarbone. 

You love every second of getting to see this new side of Ellie, one that you haven’t seen before. The way that she’s intently listening to your body, finding out exactly how to touch you in a way  that brings out those little gasps and mules that are like music to her ears, you want to see this side of her more often.

She’s enjoying the sight of her marks on you just as much as you are; a thrill runs through her, knowing that everyone will see that you belong to her.

She pauses toying with your nipple as her hand falls to your thigh, letting her breath graze against your skin, before she leans in, lips encircling the pebbled bud with a gentle suck. You whimper as her teeth barely graze your skin, tongue swirling over the small bud teasingly. She makes an appreciative sound against you while her fingers brush the bare skin of your inner thigh. 

Her thumb teases over the seam of your panties, and you swear that you can feel her lips pull into a smirk as she feels the evident wetness pooling there. When she grazes a knuckle over your clothed clit, using a featherlight touch, your hips instinctively buck, you’re so worked up. 

“Ellie,” your cheeks flush at the way that she’s got you whining for her with just one touch to wear you’ve been craving her to be. “Please, I, I need you to touch me there.” 

“Aww, you’re so pretty when you beg for me,” she coos, two fingers caressing over your heat. 

Your head falls back, eyes closing as you try to suppress the whimper that fights to escape at her teasing.

“Ellie, please,” and if you weren’t trying to beg before, you definitely are now.

She tilts her head, a slightly pleased expression crossing her kiss swollen lips as she looks at you, thoroughly unravelled before she’s even fully gotten you undressed.

“That’s all you had to say, Princess.”

Her voice is low and smooth, calm and effortless, in complete juxtaposition to her next actions, because suddenly, your dress is being yanked the rest of the way down, Ellie tossing it to the floor in a careless heap. She lifts you with ease, flipping you around so that your back is pressed against her bare chest. Her arms curl around you, holding you close to her, fingers trailing down your stomach, scheming over the waistband of your panties. One finger hooks under, and she pauses, voice suddenly soft.

“Can I take these off, baby girl?” Her finger strokes along the bare skin that she’s found beneath your panties, just above your mound, inviting, but not moving lower. 

“Ellie,” you say with growing desperation. She’s teased you all day, and you can’t take much more of it. You’ve reached the end of your rope, and you can tell, without even having to look at her, that she’s fully aware of it, she’s just enjoying teasing you a little longer, dragging out the moment for even just a few seconds more. She’s so close to where you need her, but not close enough, and you need her to bridge the distance. “You can do whatever you want,” your head falls back against her shoulder, auburn hair tickling against your face as she leans down to whisper.

“Don’t give me any ideas, princess. You might regret it.” 

Her words make you shutter, but, nonetheless, she pulls, and in a matter of seconds, she’s sending your panties to join your dress on the floor, with a practiced flick of her wrist.

She doesn’t waste much time now; her hands gently part your thighs. 

“Spread your legs for me, Pretty Girl, I want to see all of you.” 

She coaxes, not that you need much urging. You feel her legs cage over yours, wrapping around them, holding them open for her. Fingers ghost over your curls, dipping between your lips. She collects your wetness, fingers gliding effortlessly up to your clit, coating it in your own arousal. 

“Barely touched you, and you’re already soaked for me,” two fingers press against your swollen clit, drawing slow, easy circles over your heat, already making your walls clench around nothing.

Her other hand moves, pausing to give an affectionate pinch to one of your perked breasts, making you gasp in surprise, your hips instinctively jolting forward, pushing against the hand that continues to massage, tease, and press against your clit. It continues its path downward, caressing over your hip, your inner thigh. 

Long, tapered fingers dip between your folds, tentatively swirling around your entrance, gathering the wetness that’s collected there. You don’t realize you’re begging until, achingly slowly, one of her fingers brushes over your tight, glistening hole. She doesn’t push it forward, only curling it slightly to pet at your entrance. 

“F-fuck, please,” your head falls back against her shoulder, and your hips push forward, trying to take her inside, but to no avail.

“Such a needy girl,” she murmurs, smirking at the way that you nod. 

She’s got you so desperate that you’ll agree to anything she says; you won’t even try to deny it. It would be pointless, anyways. All she has to do is look down and see the way that your hips are bucking against her to know that you would be lying through your teeth. Nonetheless, she gently eases a finger inside you and you let out a long, tremulous breath as she pushes her finger, easing it all the way inside until she’s down to her knuckle.

She’s watching carefully for your reactions and she can feel how tight you are around her; she doesn’t want to cause you any pain. But when she tentatively, curiously, crooks her finger slightly upward, searching, a jolt runs through you, your body trembling and hips jerking forward, chasing the contact. It’s too much, and it’s not enough, and you need more. 

“Fuck, I, Ellie, I I want,” your hands grip onto her thighs tightly. 

She presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck before whispering,“That’s it, baby, use your words. Tell me what you need,” her finger pumps in and out at an unhurried, languid pace, barely grazing over that spot that you so desperately need her to touch. 

“Need more of you inside me,” you whimper, unable to keep the desperate edge from creeping into your voice. A second finger joins the first, slowly pushing through your entrance. You immediately feel the stretch, unfamiliar to having someone else’s fingers there, but you’re quickly distracted, because as soon as both fingers are pushing into you, she increases the pressure against your throbbing clit, fingers drawing rough, tight circles over your swollen bud. 

The sound you make is high and uncontained.

Calloused fingers brush against your inner walls, clenching around them as Ellie stretches you out. Her fingers curl, a slight beckoning motion as she easily finds that spot inside of you. The pads of her fingers press firmly against it, fingers insistently petting at your center with small, precise strokes against your sweet spot. She's hitting that spot in a way that you’ve never been able to accomplish on your own. 

You’re seeing stars, because she’s everywhere you want and need her to be, and now, the only thing you can do is grind your hips down against her fingers that are so effortlessly toying with you. 

It comes out of nowhere, the coil that eagerly begins to tighten in your stomach. Your toes curl with anticipation, and your hands are gripping onto her so tightly. You’re pretty sure that you’re the one who’s going to be leaving bruises now. Her fingers continue to thrust in and out of your weeping cunt, and maintain the relentless pressure against your clit.

Ellie’s chin rests against your shoulder, watching attentively, and if you could see her, you’d see how utterly enthralled she is at how much of a mess she’s made you, eyes heavy as she watches her fingers plunge in and out of your cunt. Her voice is low against your ear, rough, commanding when she speaks.

“That’s it, Baby Girl, I want you to fuck yourself on my fingers and cum for me.” 

You’ve always experienced orgasms as a gradual build, a wave, gently cresting against the shore. So, the way the coil in your stomach abruptly snaps, almost an instant after Ellie finishes speaking, has you taken completely by surprise. She’s attached her lips back onto your neck, sucking a mark just against your pulse point, which she feels fluttering rapidly beneath her tongue. 

There’s the stuttering of hips accompanied by a sharp cry and Ellie feels your walls tighten around her fingers, unceasing in her ministrations even as your orgasm barrels through you. 

“Good girl, fucking give it to me,” she nearly growls, as her fingers continue to fuck you through your orgasm. All you can do is whimper uselessly, rocking your hips against her hand, as thrills ignite every inch of your body, making you tremble all over. 

When you come down from your high, you’re collapsed against her chest, and she’s slowly easing off the pressure. 

The first thing you notice is that you don’t feel the same as you usually would if you had just done this by yourself. For some reason, you thought that you were a one and done kind of girl. Usually you orgasm once, and then you take a nap, feeling for the most part satisfied. But as her fingers slide out of you, leaving you feeling empty, all you can think is that you want more.

Then, Ellie’s holding up her glistening fingers, slick with your arousal, in front of her face. You turn to watch her, curious, as she slides them into her mouth, licking them clean. She hums, and you raise a brow questioningly as she looks down at you, her eyes bearing an expression that is almost predatory in its intensity.

“What?” you ask, already feeling goosebumps rising along your skin.

“Nothing,” she shrugs, shaking her head slightly. “It’s just, now that I’ve had a taste of you, I want more.” You turn fully to face her, lips curving into a smirk. Your hand trails over her breasts, and she looks at you with interest.

“Please,” you’re still breathless, and your voice is still unsteady.

“I want you too.”

*

“Atta girl, just like that.” 

Admittedly, as much as you’ve had countless fantasies involving sitting on Ellie’s face, the prospect of actually doing it, as much as you want to, gives you pause. She’s carried you up to the bed, at some point along the way, the rest of her clothes came off, you’ll probably find them scattered along the hallway later. But that doesn’t matter right now.

What matters is that you’re hovering over her face, looking down at her while trying not to look nervous and out of your comfort zone, which you totally are, and she obviously isn’t buying it. Gentle hands reach for you, holding your hips and pulling you against her easily. 

“All the way down, Honey, that’s it,” she coaxes, easing you down onto her. “You’re good, you’re not gonna kill me,” her hand caresses up and down your side, soothing, even as you feel her warm breath ghosting over your heat, making your cheeks flush, as you look down at how close she is to you.

“I gotcha’, Pretty Girl, just relax,” her voice is smooth, assured, confident, in a way that makes your muscles relax in spite of yourself.

That’s when you feel her tongue, warm and wet, brushing through your folds. The sensation is so new, so unfamiliar to you, that for a second, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. 

Then, her tongue flattens, pressing over your clit and applying a slight pressure that has you arching against her. Her tongue curls over your swollen nub, gently drawing it towards her lips, an almost imperceptible pulling motion that has your hands scrambling for something to hold onto, finding a grip against the headboard of the bed.

She makes a contented hum as her lips wrap around your center, the sound vibrating against you making your hips jolt. Her hands curl around the undersides of your thighs, holding you in place. Your hands hold onto the headboard of the bed for dear life, feeling like it’s the only solid thing that you have to hold onto, keeping you from toppling over the edge and out of control. 

You’ve never felt like this before. Each swipe of her tongue over your heat, the gentle pulse of her lips as she sucks, enveloping you in her warm, wet mouth, brings a new sensation thrumming through your veins, almost akin to fire as it shoots through you, pleasure licking over every inch of your skin like flames. It’s overwhelming, in such a way that you don’t know what to do with it, how to express it. 

All you can do, at this point, is roll your hips against her mouth, hold onto the headboard, and let small, desperate whimpers escape your lips. You’re trying to hold onto some semblance of containing yourself, because you don’t know what would happen if you let yourself unravel completely. You’re terrified of what Ellie might see if you fell apart like that.

She seems to be doing everything she can to break away at your composure though. Her tongue is alternating between dragging slow, tender circles over your clit, and firm, quick strokes, that has your head falling against your hands, braced against the headboard. She flicks her tongue against you, her lips surrounding your clit in a particularly firm suck, and before you know it, you’re spilling over the edge, eyes shut tightly, and breath releasing in a long, shuttering moan that seems to run from the top of your head to the tips of your tightly curled toes, her tongue continuing to caress you over your peak.

She moans into you, and it all becomes too much. Your head is thrown back and your hands are reaching down, tangling in her hair, to push her away or pull her closer; it’s unclear in your fuzzy mind. All the while, her insistent tongue continues to swirl over your increasingly oversensitive bundle of nerves, the relentless and inescapable pleasure making you shiver all over, while a light sweat breaks out on your bare skin.

You only drift back into yourself when you become aware of a shift. It’s so fast, you barely have time to even blink, before Ellie manoeuvres you, flipping you onto your back and roughly parting your thighs with her hands. Her fingers run through your glistening folds, calloused thumb pressing against your aching, overstimulated clit. The sensation has you gasping, crying out, and trying to close your legs, buck your hips, move away.

Frantically, you try to jam your legs shut, trying to escape her mercilessly teasing fingers. Rough hands force your thighs apart, putting you on display for her as she holds you open. 

“Uh uh, not this time, Baby,” she tuts disapprovingly. “No more holding back on me, Sweet Girl,” listening to the low, dominant tone of her voice is like a drug to you, and your eyes roll back into your head as she speaks. 

“I want everyone to know how good I fuck this pretty little pussy.” Two fingers circle your clit and you jolt, trying to move away. But a strong arm pushes your hips down, pinning you against the bed easily.

Faster than you can process, her fingers retreat, and you don’t even have time to feel relieved, because a split second later, her hand comes down against your cunt with a smack, delivering a stinging, rough spank that has you crying out, clit throbbing and pulsing with the agonizingly delicious mix of pain and pleasure. 

“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl, and you’re gonna take everything I give you.” 

Two fingers notch at your entrance, but she waits, looking at you, a silent question, an invitation for you to tell her that this is too much and that you need to stop. You know she would in a heartbeat if you told her that this was too much or too rough for you right now, and that’s what makes you feel safe enough to continue.

So, when you respond by attempting to push your hips forward against her, a soft whimper falling from your lips, she smirks, and with the slightest movement of her wrist, her fingers thrust into you. Seconds later, her face is buried in between your legs, tongue gently lapping at your sensitive clit. After two orgasms, you’re hyper aware of every movement; every swirl of her tongue is sweet, hot agony that undoes you in seconds.

At the same moment her lips take your clit into her mouth, holding it as her tongue swipes a tight, rough circle over your heat, her fingers curl, and she finds that spot inside you that makes your legs begin to shake, pressing against it with each punishing thrust of her fingers. 

Your moans are loud, unrestrained, sounds that you would be embarrassed to make if you were in any way capable of controlling them. But you’re not, because your mind is only filled with her, her and her tongue on your clit, and her strong fingers pumping in and out of your wet cunt, playing with you as easily and as effortlessly as she plays the guitar. 

She’s clearly enjoying the sounds that fall from your lips, every beg and plea and moan of her name making her feel quite smug that she’s undone you so easily…she encourages you to continue, making a contented hum against your clit. She only looks up long enough to say:

“That’s it, I want to hear you being such a dirty little girl for me.”

A third finger slowly, carefully, pushes in; the stretch makes you feel so full, so good, it nearly takes your breath away. Her fingers thrust in and out slowly, testing the waters, wanting to make sure that you’ve adjusted – but you are having absolutely none of it.

Your head is thrown back and your hips are thrusting forward, or trying to, but her arm is so fucking strong that she doesn’t even have to try that hard to keep you pinned against the mattress, exactly where she wants you to be.  You don’t even realize you’re begging until you see her smirking up at you.

“Please, Ellie, please, fuck, I-I want,” it’s a challenge to even string coherent words together, but you’re distracted by her face, now looking up at you as her thumb takes over, stroking against your clit. 

“Come on, Baby girl, tell me what you want,” she presses her thumb a little harder into you, making you gasp brokenly. 

You take a breath to steady yourself, and your words still come out stuttered, but you say them, blushing in a way that she finds absolutely endearing considering you’re already spread out on her bed with three of her fingers buried inside of you.

“I-I want it harder,” you admit, your cheeks burning. “Want you to fuck me.”

“You’re so fuckin pretty when you use your words like that, Baby,” she praises. “Such a good fuckin girl,” then, her fingers are thrusting in and out, setting a rough pace, hitting that spot in a way that feels so much stronger than it already was. 

When she lowers her head, tongue dipping between your folds, returning to feast at your clit rough, persistent swirls and flicks over your swollen center, any slight ability to contain yourself is lost. You’re not aware of the sounds that you’re making, or the way that your hands scramble to find a hold on something, anything solid, eventually coming to clutch the soft bed sheets, holding them tightly in between your fingers.

You’re only aware that your orgasm is approaching, and that Ellie, little by little, is nudging you towards a peak that once you make it over, you think might absolutely wreck you, in the best possible way. All you know is that you want this, you want her. You need her.

God.

You really fucking need her. 

She feels your walls beginning to flutter around her, her free hand shifts down, coming to grip your thigh, opening you even wider for her.

 “Come on, baby, wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make for me when you cum.” 

She says against you, adjusting her wrist to fuck you with her fingers deeper. The new angle has you keening, hips desperately thrusting to chase the friction of whatever new spot she’s hitting. 

Her tongue flattening against you as she draws firm, tight circles over your bundle of nerves, The way that your back is arching, hips uselessly trying to grind down against her and her relentless fingers, fucking into your weeping cunt mercilessly.  She’s guiding you exactly to where she wants you to go, straight up towards that peak. Your vision blurs. 

“Fucking give it to me, Pretty Girl, want you to cum for me, all over my fingers and my mouth.” 

Your back arches off the bed, and suddenly, all you know is wave after wave of ecstasy that crashes through your body, electric shocks that pulse through you, making you jolt and flail uselessly combined with the rhythmic pumping of her fingers, and the dipping and swirling of her tongue against you. 

She works you through your orgasm, never slowing the movements of her tongue or her fingers that continue to drag in and out of you, sustaining your pleasure for as long as she can possibly hold it. Her lips wrap around your clit, as her tongue swipes through your folds, collecting all the wetness that she can find. She hums against you, encouraging your loud moans, and by the time it’s over, you’re a shaking, completely fucked out mess on her bed, 

If you happened to see the expression on her face as she watches you writhing beneath her, your hands twisting the sheets into knots and broken, unrestrained whimpers fall from your lips, she’s taking in the sight with immense appreciation, as if you’re the work of art she’s just created.

*

Turns out, the only thing that you have the ability to do post-three orgasms is roll over onto your stomach, shaking and trembling, and try, desperately, to regain your breath. 

Ellie, for her part, crawls up the bed beside you, hand coming up to tenderly stroke back the hair that sticks to your forehead, before gently rubbing your back.

“Easy, baby, that’s it, just breathe for me.” 

You’re eventually able to regain your breath, but your body feels floppy and light, and you can’t even begin to comprehend the slightest of movements. Ellie tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, saying softly, “I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna get something to clean you up, okay?”  

You nod in slight acknowledgement of her words, but your mind is still fuzzy, and the only thing that you’re really aware of right now is the sudden sleepiness that comes over you in a soft, comforting wave. You feel her stroke your hair once more before she rises from the bed, briefly pausing to look at how fucked out you are, stretched out across her bed, bare skin glistening with sweat that makes your hair stick to your forehead, eyes heavy and cheeks flushed.

“So pretty,” she breathes, before exiting.

She isn’t gone long, and when she returns your eyes are closed, head buried against a pillow. She kneels between your legs, hand reaching out to gently rub your back as you turn your head to look at her. 

“Just need to clean you up, pretty,” she whispers, and you realize how sticky you are in between your legs. 

“Okay,” you mumble, your voice sounding slightly hoarse, similar to the way it does when you first wake up in the morning. Were you really moaning that much?

You feel a warm, damp washcloth brushing against your inner thigh. It’s nice, soothing, but as Ellie moves towards the place in between your legs, you instinctively flinch, overstimulated and slightly sore. 

A large hand splays out over your back gently. “I know, Honey, it’s okay, I've got you,” Ellie soothes. 

She runs the cloth over your folds. “There we go, sweet girl, almost done.” Its brush against your clit makes you cry out, leg kicking out instinctively. Ellie shushes you gently, pressing chased, featherlight kisses against your spine, the curve of your hip, effectively distracting you while she finishes cleaning you up. 

When she’s done, she throws the cloth to the side, coming to sit beside you. “Okay, Baby, I just need you to get up and go for a quick pee.” You turn your head to look at her in bewilderment, staring up at her with your eyebrows raised.

“Why?” You ask, confused. She chuckles softly at your expression. 

“Because, nowadays there isn’t much to protect ourselves from any infections that we could pick up while doing this,” she gestures vaguely. “And this is the one thing that we can do to at least try to help prevent something from coming up,”

“Buuut Elliee, I don’t wanna get up,” you grumble, burying your face back into the pillow.

She sighs softly, “come on, it’ll be fast, and then we can get back into bed and cuddle for as long as you want.” 

That idea is tempting, but she could just get into bed with you right now and cuddle. Plus, you want to know who gave her this information, because it sounds pretty fucking stupid to you. 

“I don’t want to,” you grumble.

Ellie playfully hits you with a pillow. “Come on, Lazy Ass,” she’s guiding you to sit up now, in spite of how much you’re resisting, because the bed is so warm and soft. 

“Besides,” she reasons, “we both go out on patrol in three days, and I am not dealing with you having to dismount your horse every five minutes because you got a urinary tract infection and now you need to pee every time we hit a bump on the path.” 

You dramatically sigh in defeat. “Okay, okay, I get it, Jesus Christ,” you roll your eyes in mock exasperation, but the smile pulling at your lips betrays your true feelings. “On one condition,” you say, folding your arms across your chest.

“What?” Ellie is fighting to restrain a smile, because you’re just too goddamn cute when you’re like this.

“You have to carry me there and back,” you say, reaching your arms up like a child who wants to be picked up. 

She sighs, feigning annoyance, but she’s already positioning an arm beneath your knees. “You’re such a fucking brat,” she mutters against your hair as she cradles you against her chest. 

You snuggle into her, smile growing wide as she moves towards the door, holding you in her arms. “Don’t lie, you love it.”

“Shut up ,” she says, hand sneaking around to give your ass an affectionate squeeze, making you gasp and giggle in surprise, instinctively kicking, nearly falling out of her arms in the process. But her hold is secure, arms tightening around you as your cheek presses against her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, babe, I got you.”

*

After gently setting you back in bed, once you’ve finally gone to the bathroom, grumbling the whole way there and back, Ellie went to get you a glass of water. She’s been gone for less than 30 seconds, and you already miss the feeling of her body, Strong and warm and steady, pressed against you. While she’s gone though, you entertain yourself by letting your eyes roam over your body, finding the evidence of her, left behind on your skin. You discover each new mark, each trace of her presence imprinted on you with the anticipation and joy of a child finding Easter eggs. 

Your hand runs over your inner thigh, Lips pulling into a smile as you take in the sight of the finger shaped bruises that she left from where she gripped onto you so tightly. The site makes a warm, tingling feeling settle in your stomach.

You don’t hear her approach from behind you, and she must not see the expression on your face.

“Did I hurt you? Was it, was it too much?”

You turn, eyebrows raised and already shaking your head with vehemence, to find her watching you, biting her lip, concerned frown on her face. 

“What, no, no, Ells, it’s just,” you avert your eyes, the blush creeping onto your face is mortifying, and in spite of everything you too just did, and how you had expected talking about things like this would be easier now, it’s still hard to admit it out loud. 

She catches your chin in her hand, gently redirecting your eyes back up to meet hers. Seeing her so close to you, you don’t have to look hard to see the anxieties, trying to be contained and hidden, but dancing behind her eyes nonetheless. 

You feel your heart clench. She’s opened up to you about her past on a few occasions, but when she has, it was easy to sense how fearful she was of her own inclinations towards violence, regardless of how necessary and imperative it might have been for her survival. She’s like a fire, impulsive and easy to set off, her flames all-consuming without a second thought. But after, even now, even when all this is small bruises marking your skin in the heated passion of lust, that will fade and be gone within a few days, she’ll still twist herself into knots, thinking and overthinking until she’s convinced herself that she’s ruined you.

“Please, Babe, tell me the truth,” her voice is soft, barely a whisper, but you hate the way that there’s a slight tremble in it, so uncharacteristic of Ellie. It breaks what’s left of your embarrassment, and the words fall from your lips without hesitation now.

“It wasn’t too much. It’s just, I-I liked it...the marks... I think it’s kind of hot.” 

You wonder, in the back of your mind, if she can feel the way your cheek heats beneath her hand, resting against it ever so lightly. Her breath comes out in a soft, surprised laugh, and you’re relieved to see the concerned edges fade from her expression, a smirk instead overtaking her lips. “

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she whispers, fingers coming to trace over the scattered marks, littered across your neck and collarbone. 

“You’re cold,” she observes, hands running up and down your arms, goosebumps beginning to form there. You hadn’t even noticed that you had begun to shiver.

When she crawls into bed behind you, wrapping her arms around you, Holding you against her, her warmth settles into your bones, running through you like melted chocolate. She brings the glass of water to your lips, insisting that you drink, and refusing to back down, in spite of your protests that you’ll need to get up to go pee in the middle of the night and does she realize how annoying that is? 

She does, but she still coaxes you to drink half the glass.

You hold the glass up to her, pouting slightly. “Now you drink some, I feel like you should, too, because you were doing a lot of work, you know, with your mouth,” you say suggestively. 

“Oh my God, shut up,” she groans. She gives you a playful shove that nearly makes the glass tumble from your hand. But she has quick reflexes, and her hand is steady against yours as she gently grabs your wrist, preventing the spill.

“Careful, Hun,” she cautions, plucking the glass out of your hand easily. “If only to appease you,” she sighs dramatically, before tipping it back and draining the glass.

The inevitable crash that you hadn’t, but probably should’ve, anticipated hits you all at once. It starts with a sigh that quickly turns into a yawn that seems to take all of your energy with it. You move to shrug your shoulders, brush it off like it’s nothing, because honestly, it’s only just starting to get dark outside, you can’t go to sleep right now, it’s just too early.

Your bones feel oddly heavy, sore in a way that shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. Adrenaline, and passion have temporarily blinded you to trivial things, like being a human and having a body that can get physically exhausted, especially after trying so many new things at once. You wince because fuck, you hadn’t realized how tense you had been holding yourself today until now, and the consequences are quickly setting in. 

She’s watching you, observing you closely as she always does. She doesn’t say a word, but she intuitively understands.

She brushes your hair off to one side, and you shiver as your bare neck and shoulders are exposed to her. Warm hands settle over your shoulders, there’s a gentle squeeze, an unspoken question, an offering. The way your head falls forward, the low, contented noise that falls from your lips is all the ascent that she needs.

Her thumbs gingerly press into the tense muscles beneath them. She hums sympathetically, feeling how tender you are beneath her. She keeps her movements slow and precise as she presses her thumbs against you, applying a slight pressure, running them over the backs of your shoulders, gently encouraging the tension to release. She’s ceaselessly patient, only continuing her path upward when she can feel your muscles relax, giving into her ministrations.  

She continues to massage across your shoulders and your upper back, seeming to find and undo tension in places that you didn’t even realize you were carrying. It makes you sleepy, the gentle caress of her hands gliding over your skin, paired with the firm press of her knuckles, exactly where you need it.

One of her hands slowly runs up the back of your neck, gently cupping you at the base of your skull.  Her fingers smooth over your temples, stress easing away as your eyes flutter shut.  Her other hand continues to press and massage in between your shoulder blades, firm and insistent as she smooths her thumbs over the tight knot that’s gathered there, with patient persistence, making it unravel at her touch, and forcing the tension to leave your body. 

“Relax, Pretty Girl, I’m not going anywhere,” her voice is a low rumble against your ear. 

Her lips brush over one of the bruises she’s left on the side of your neck, and suddenly, it’s like all the tension bleeds out of you, draining so quickly that you don’t have time to catch yourself.

She laughs softly as you try to contain the yawn that tears through you as she eases you back towards the pillows. She wraps a soft blanket around both of you, covering your bodies and making sure you’re tucked in securely. 

She settles in behind you, warm, bare skin pressing against yours as she curls herself around you. A strong arm wraps around your waist, gently tugging you close to her as her leg hooks over yours. 

You’re barely awake, only aware enough to snuggle into her, saying sleepily, “if this is the treatment I’m going to get after one swimming lesson, what are you gonna do when I’ve mastered it?”

There’s a soft chuckle, low against your ear as she whispers, “don’t worry about that, pretty girl, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” 

She kisses the top of your head, lingering for a moment as she adoringly watches your eyes flutter. You sigh with contentment, letting a sleepy smile graze over your lips. Maybe she doesn’t realize what she’s doing, maybe she isn’t even aware…but, in this moment, you’re surrounded by her. 

Her safety.

Her warmth .

Her unconditional and unwavering love is curled around your heart as closely as she’s curled herself around you. She’s here, she’s safety, she’s love,and right now, she is all that you could ever want.

-

this was actually my first attempt at writing smut, and in spite of how nervous I am to share it, I’m actually really happy with how it turned out. So if you enjoyed it, please let me know, notes, comments, and re-blogs are so appreciated. Thank you so much for reading

[bloodlineee1]

i’d love to see a jey uso x reader from you! something silly followed by some smut maybe. just light hearted relationship stuff.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Reader.

Warnings: smut Minors DNI 18+

i loved this idea so muchhh i hope you guys enjoyyyyy!!!!

I get out of the shower and realize I forgot to grab a towel. were at Jey's twin brother's house visiting and at home, we usually have towels in our bedrooms so it totally crossed my mind.

"babe" y/n yells.

"yeah?" Josh yells back from downstairs.

"Can you bring me a towel please"

"Can you bring me a towel please" Jimmy mocks.

"I heard that Jonathon" y/n laughs yelling at him.

"Man shut yo ass up before you get me in trouble" Jey laughs.

"yeah, one second" he gets up from the couch and throws a pillow at Jimmy.

after a few minutes, he finally walked in with a towel in his hand.

"here" he puts his arm out to pass me the towel.

"took you long enough" I walk towards him and try to snatch the towel.

"say goodbye to this towel 'cause you ain't getting it now" he snatches the towel back.

"babe, give me the towel." I bend around his back to grab it.

"say please" he smacks my ass and moves the towel again.

"Joshua come on it's cold" I smack his arm.

"say please" he taunts.

"Please, now give me my towel" I suck my teeth and put my hand out.

"say it nicer" he pushes more.

"Josh stop playing bro," I say purposely because I know he doesn't play that "bro" shit.

"oh, I'm bro now?"

"yeah, uce" I laugh.

"oh really? keep it up" he laughs too.

"Can you just give me my towel Jey" I say his stage name which he also hates.

"Now you definitely not getting this towel" he chuckles.

"I'm not walking around your brother's house naked," I say annoyed at this point because its cold asf.

"what you gonna do for this towel?" he smirks.

"anything you want," I say obliviously.

"oh really? bend over then" he jokes he pulls me by my waist.

"Yeah, you crazy" I grab the towel and try to walk away.

"am I?" he pulls me in with the towel that he never let go.

"yes, you are" My breath hitches from how close he is we've been married for 3 years and he still makes me nervous.

"yeah?" he starts rubbing my clit.

"Yeah," I moan.

"you've been walking around with this stank-ass attitude all damn day I know this is what you've been wanting" he whispers in my ear.

"I don't have an attitude" I roll my eyes.

"yes you have ever since you and Trin went out with the girls last night" he puts a finger in.

"Well, when you come home horny from the club and your man is giving lectures about drinking "too much" instead of taking his dick out and fucking you till you cry you'd have an attitude too," I say annoyed and so horny.

"mhm ill give what you want like I said bend that ass over" he smacks my ass.

15 minutes later.

"Ugh! fuck babe!" y/n moaned loudly, trying not to break her arch in her back. She gripped the sheets, with her eyes rolling to the back of her head as Jey held her by the waist and drilled her.

"Baby wait" She whimpered, moving up some.

"Whea' you goin'? Huh?" he grabbed her by the hair and whispered into her ear.

"Mm, It's too much" She whined, reaching back to push at his stomach.

"This what you wanted, remember? Take this shit like a big girl" He let her hair go and fucked her deeper than before.

He slowed his pace down.

"Fuck me back" He demanded slapping her ass.

She let a short moan slip out and he stopped moving, waiting for her to do what he said.

She gripped the sheet again, moving her hips in a circular motion. He bit his bottom lip, mesmerized by how her ass moved so perfectly.

"Mmm," She muffled, holding in a moan before she started throwing her ass back on him.

"Fuck y/n." He groaned, watching her ass effortlessly jiggle.

He felt his peak near, gripped her hips, and put his leg up.

Her mouth fell open and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

"Take dis shit" Jey gritted, gripping her hips tightly as he pounded into her.

"Tell me you love me, baby," He said, knowing the state she was currently in, she couldn't say anything.

Moans were stuck in her throat, she couldn't form a sentence at the moment at how much pleasure she was feeling.

"I can't hear you" He taunted, slowing down.

She gasped "Shit! I love you!" She moaned "I love you so much"

"I love you too baby," He said softly

"You gonna cum for me?"

"I-I-I can't" She whined.

"Yes, you can baby, come on give it to me" He coached.

He could feel her body trembling below him, feeling his peak coming too but wanted to make sure she got hers first.

He put his leg down and pushed more into her back letting her body collapse. Not stopping his deep strokes as she now lay on her stomach and he laid on top of her.

"You like makin' me feel good right?" He whispered in her ear. She immediately nodded, feeling him in her stomach the deeper he grind into her.

"Then let it go, mama. Let me feel it" He softly kissed the side of her face and she kept clapping her walls around him as the tears that were building up in her eyes started to spring free.

"Make me feel good and cum fa' me" He whispered with a shaky voice.

"Oh fuck" She dragged out as the orgasm ripped threw her body

"Just like that baby. Good girl" He cooed, kissing the side of her face, stroking her through it.

His eyes started drifting close releasing himself inside her.

"damn," they both said in unison.

They turn our heads towards the door after hearing a knock.

"aye get yall nasty asses up and get dressed we going out to eat" Jimmy yells from the other side of the door.

"aii" Josh yells back still lying on top of me.

"and clean my sheets" he adds.

"see" I smack Josh on his chest.

"Jon leave them alone lord knows what we be doing in their house" Trin laughs.

[ashton-sano]

HxH: Feitan w/ a Strong! S/o Pt.1(?)

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`>When I say strong, the reader, in this case, would be as physically capable and have nen and/or abilities comparable to Feitan. I see a lot of headcanons but not many like this

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`>Getting back into the HXH fandom slowly so while I'm working on some more Food Wars! Content, have these since this gremlin has been plaguing my mind lol. If this gets enough love, ill make a part 2 so tell me what you all think :3

Warning: Murder, Stalking and Strong language

So if you a minor, beware.

.

-To start, he might be a tad put off

-It's pretty rare to find someone with such prowess, especially ones that don't have less than-savory intentions

-Id assume you met on a battlefield of some kind or while he was on one of his missions with the troupe

-Just like him, you aren't exactly the upstanding citizen type and are committing crimes of some sort when you encounter

-Whether stealing the same things or killing the same people, you two have similar goals, regardless of the reason

-To be fair, he didn't think much of you when you first appeared

  "How. Troublesome...."

-An annoying obstacle, someone to dispatch quickly

-However, after a rather tedious fight and a good amount of bruises, he realized it might not be that simple

-Your moves were calculated and precise, and your battle iq no doubt honed over years of experience with nen abilities that even he found difficult to handle

-His interest was certainly piqued, as much as it can for Feitan anyway

-You’ll hand it to him; its been a while since you've seen his level of strength

-A true master of his craft, no doubt

-Regardless, that isn't why you were here

-You came to rid of a target and with your mission accomplished, there was no reason to stay, no matter how curious you were about the extent of his ability

-You were swift at your exit, swift enough that Feitan only caught your figure leaving from the corner of his eye

-Admittedly you've sparked more than enough of his interest

-something about your very being itched him in a way he couldn't describe and lingered his thoughts for moments too long

-Like it or not, your existence loomed his mind awkwardly and gave his chest a tighten

-Indescribably annoying

'Must. know. about. Her. Get rid of stupid feeling.”

-now we all know Feitan is no short of deranged and sadistic so it is no telling if he wanted to know for devious reasons or other

-Whatever the case, it led to him talking Shalnark into researching deep (and I mean very deep) into you

-Playing it off as a simple inquiry, he found you, a picture attached to your profile albeit a very blurry one

-All that he could get was your name and Age

"Y/n. Interesting. Name."

Shalnark is confused

-That's how he got here, peeping from your window as you rest

-Even with such little information, finding you was trivially easy

-Your apartment was small, compact he’d say

-Nothing compared to the places he’s layed his head: cold, dark, and filthy on a good day

-He spent the night watching you sleep, noticing every ministration, every time you got up abruptly and checked your surroundings, nearly certain something was amiss

-He didn't expect peeping on you to be so trepidatious

-That didn't stop him from stopping by every time he wasn't busy to check up and watch you

-Days became weeks and months flew by as he kept this cycle going

-It eventually got to the point that he'd follow you to and from your house

-He was searching and, surprisingly, unsure of what for

-He's never felt any particular connection to people outside of the spiders so it was usually easy to write it off as mindless curiosity

-He just wants to know why you interest him so much, and nothing more

-That's how he ended up in your house when you left for your 8 am morning run, which took you approx. 30 minutes to finish as of this week

-He was just checking your clothes because he wished to know where you frequented, perhaps he could lie in waiting as you shopped, snatching your jugular and relenting this pounding in his chest that paces just a few beats quicker

-He only checks the food you eat to see what your diet consists of, perhaps to poison you as your gaze falters from your plate, even if just for a second, permanently killing the heat that rises against his skin at the thought of you

-He doesn't care about you; he just wants to know your weaknesses to exploit, that’s all

-If that were true, then why was he in your room when you weren't? Taking in your scent as if an attached dog 

-Surely he could've killed you thousands of times over in the dead of your sleep; a slit to your throat would've ended this and yet he feels pulled to let you live 

“Just. one. More day.”

 -If it didn't matter, if you didn't matter, why did he effectively remove any potential romantic partner from your life?

-It's just to make you easier to kill; it's just to make you easier to kill, it's just to make you easier to take. No! Kill...not take...

-What was once curiosity became more of a crippling obsession.

-He had to know everything—what you were doing, who you spoke to, and what you ate in the morning

-You captivated him and even if he couldn't understand it, you had him wrapped around your finger without so much as a word 

-Ever since your mission 4 months ago, a certain feeling has lingered your consciousness and kept you on edge with no clue as to the source

-Things went missing, your associates became distant—well, more distant than you kept them—and your kills have become suspiciously easier.

-To the average person, such a prospect would strike fear and cause for trepidation

-Did you think I wasn't aware that he'd been watching me?

-All credit goes to him, spotting him was the hardest part

-He only let his presence be known through peeks of his bloodlust spilling before he vanished in the same motion, which gave away how seasoned he was

It was hard to tell if he wanted me to find him with how obvious his actions became; no, the word would be bold. His actions have gone from stealing articles from the back of my closet to lacing food when he was sure I hadn't seen him 

-Playing dumb was the easy part; actually avoiding his kidnapping attempt(s) was certainly a challenge 

-Before long, you could see the desperation in his nen

“You're getting sloppy, Stalker.”

-I suppose you've worked hard, stalker, I’ll let you win just this once

[desolatespring]

Accidentally deleted the request from my inbox but it was something along the lines of “imagine reader being the one too drunk in front of Chrollo”

CW: mentions of alcohol, depression, anxiety, yandere themes, physical abuse, slight religious imagery.

You stare at the ground, once again counting the floorboards under your feet. Numbers 3 and 19 creak, 14 through 17 are worn down from how the door drags against them, and-

“Care to share what’s on your mind?” Chrollo’s voice cuts your thoughts short.

“I’m counting the floorboards… again.” You hope your boring honesty will be enough to make him leave you alone.

“Sounds invigorating. Maybe if you behave I’ll take you out to watch the grass grow next.”

You scoff. “It beats being locked inside with a dolt like you.”

“Such an uncouth mouth. Didn’t you hear the part where I said you’d have to behave to earn such a privilege?”

You reluctantly look over, already knowing the smirk you’re about to see. Aaand there it is.

That’s really the only push you need. You sigh as you rise from the couch, making your way to the refrigerator. Your eyes glint over the contents before finally settling on what they were looking for.

You snatch Chrollo’s whiskey, the label of which you could never dream of pronouncing correctly. Not bothering with the glass, you take a few big swigs straight from the bottle.

“What an unladylike way to drink.”

“I actually find alcohol dependency to be very sophisticated. Only the wealthy can afford to drink like this.”

He raises an eyebrow and his smile only grows.

“Darling, if memory serves, alcohol dependency is usually a sign of depression and anxiety. Both of which are prevalent mental illnesses amongst the lower class.”

And just like that you’re drinking more then heading to the kitchen sink. Now supporting a smirk of your own you begin dumping the bottles contents down the drain. “Then I’ll have to abstain.”

The mirth in Chrollo’s eyes is palpable as he watches the expensive liquor get wasted. He’s on you in an instant, trapping your body to the counter and holding the now half emptied bottle.

“There’s no need for abstinence,” the lecherous implications make your skin crawl, “but would a little class kill you?”

“If it would I might actually start acting dignified. Anything to escape the likes of you.”

You’d like nothing more than to smack the faux pout off his lips. Chrollo leans over you, reaching for two whiskey glasses from the cabinet. He makes sure to get closer than necessary as his body presses against yours.

Once retrieved he hands you a glass filled with the umber liquid and leads you to the couch by your wrist. You’ve been with him long enough to know attempting to pull away is futile so a mere groan of displeasure will have to suffice.

He settles down on the couch, dragging you along next to him. To an outsider looking in you’d appear as the perfect couple. His arm is wrapped around your back, rubbing what’s suppose to be soothing circles into your bicep, and he looks at you, granting you his undivided attention. You know better though, this is just a subtle display of his control over you. His grip tells you you won’t be getting up unless he allows it, and his watchful gaze is studying every minute detail about you. Any adjustment to your position, drop in facial expressions, or even a change in your breathing will be noted.

He at least has the decency to try and cater the conversation to your interests. “I’m not surprised The Walking Dead comic is better, the source material tends to be unmatched,” “I don’t sound like Patrick Bateman, I’m just saying it wasn’t until The Smiths release of The Queen is Dead that the band truly found their sound.”

Try as he might but you just can’t feign interest at his blasphemous attempts at being good company. Even a conversation as light as this feels dangerous. You’re refilling your glass without a second thought.

Overestimating your tolerance only proves to be detrimental. The effects of the alcohol are kicking in close to instantaneously. Truthfully, you’d been too stressed by your current living situation to eat much. The strength of the alcohol mixed with an empty stomach has it rushing to your head.

While you wouldn’t consider yourself to be angry drunk, emotional was an understatement. Whatever you were feeling before you drank became amplified until it was blinding. The arm Chrollo has around you is now stifling, his voice more grating than ever. It’s all so aggravating. His unwanted commentary throughout the night only succeeds in provoking you. You have to mentally applaud yourself for not ripping your hair out.

In an attempt to cover up your disgust you finish your second glass, hoping it’ll wash away your problems. It works for a bit. You’re forgetting things as they happen and you zone out unintentionally, yet your anger digs in it’s heels and remains.

You think you fell asleep at one point but judging by the way Chrollo continues monologuing you brush the thought aside. Realizing you’re starting to black out you begin grasping to every word he says as if it were gospel, desperate to stay alert. The last thing you’d need is to pass out and be unresponsive in front of him.

The next time you come to, your brain is scrambling to connect the dots. You don’t even remember what he said, but the emotions you felt still linger. The stinging in your palm and fingers is your next source of confusion. You look from your hand to his face trying to find the missing pieces to your mental puzzle. The handprint on Chrollo’s cheek is evident and despite your drunken stupor you begin putting two and two together. You look to your hand again for confirmation and, oh shit.

You’ve never hit him before. Passive aggressive behavior and wry responses were more your forte. Occasionally, when feeling particularly spiteful, ignoring him altogether was the solution. But this was certainly new. You know you didn’t actually hurt him, at least not physically. Yet you still fear his retaliation.

Your anxiety proves warranted. “That was bold.” Unsure if it’s the booze or his inhuman speed but your head is cranked to the side while your vision struggles to catch up. Your head swims, you feel like you could vomit from the sudden onset of dizziness. The pain doesn’t come immediately but it leaves you blinking back tears when you feel it.

It takes even longer for you to realize you’re now on the floorboards you counted so adamantly earlier. Supported by your hands and knees, you look up at him through tears fueled by an unholy concoction of fear and affliction.

He doesn’t speak right away and you aren’t about to test the waters by opening your mouth first. The silence is deafening but you find yourself longing for it the moment he breaks it.

“I miss how you use to look at me. Trepidation is very unbecoming on you.” He looks almost as pained as you. The way your body trembles before him isn’t the same confident person he first met. “I miss the old you. You’ve lost yourself.”

It’s rare to see any real emotion on his face, let alone for him to speak so openly about them. Realistically he only does this because he believes you to be too drunk to remember any of this in the morning.

Blaming the alcohol for your next response would be too simple: it takes generations of piss poor genetics and wasted potential for evolution to reach this level of idiocy.

“I’ve lost myself so you could be who you truly are. You have no one but yourself to blame.” The words are slurred as you reflect on the times before he kidnapped you. The man you use to admire, now strikes you down with his own hand. Nostalgia may kill you before he ever does. “I use to love you.” If your words won’t be remembered in the morning it’s best to make them count while you have the chance.

His gaze remains cold. The past tense doesn’t go unnoticed, and somehow these truths cut him deeper than any of your snide remarks ever did. You never fully come to this conclusion yourself as you pass out on the floor.

Chrollo sighs and carries you to your shared room. As he looks down at you sprawled unceremoniously on the bed he notices how the bruise already blossoming on your cheek stands in stark contrast to the pale satin sheets.

You’ve always had a funny way of making him discern emotions he wasn’t accustomed to. This has to be the closest thing to guilt he’s ever felt. With the realization he’s condemned both of you, comes the wish you didn’t dump half his whiskey down the drain. God knows he could use some more of it right now.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Could you do a tangerine flufd x femme reader and theyre both sick and laying in bed and js taking care of eachover??!!

hii! this is super cute. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

shared sickness

tangerine x f reader

wc || 431

again, very sorry to those on the tan taglist, my inbox is full of tan

・₊✧ masterlist + taglist

Tangerine returned home from his mission abroad several days ago. Not only had he brought himself back, but he also brought back a lovely sickness bug that he ever so kindly decided to share with you. So for the last few days, you and Tan have been miserably lying together in bed under mountains of covers as you impatiently waited for your cold to pass.

"Can you pass me the tissues," you sniffle, pointing to the box on his side of the bed. "Quick— my nose, it's dripping," you add, speaking nasally. 

"Want me to blow your nose for you?" he lightly chuckles which follows a short coughing fit. "Fuck me," he softly groans, closing his eyes, rubbing over his temples. "Gimme one," he says quietly, snatching a tissue off you.

"I was literally just about to use that one," you heavily exhale, blowing your nose to clear the mucus that had been making it near-impossible to breathe. Your neck snaps to face Tan, a quizzical expression upon your features. "Did you just— did you just throw that tissue on the floor?"

"No," he shakes his head, a boyish grin forming on his lips. 

"That a lie?" you snicker, sitting up with a groan as you peer over to see a pile of crumbled, snotty tissues on the floor by his nightstand. "Yeah, you did," you laugh, cuddling into his side. "I've been doing it too,"

"Well, that's disgusting and so unladylike," Tangerine smirks, hugging you tighter, kissing the crown of your head. 

You and Tan lay like that for a little while, silently snuggled together as you breathed in each other's sickness. Usually, when one of you was sick, the other would look after and care for the other, but considering you were both ill, you had to try to combine your roles. 

You thought you'd start small, sharing a warm bubble bath to cleanse the feeling of being in bed for the last fifty-nine hours. You helped clean each other, taking turns so you didn't overexert yourselves. After you washed and dried, you dressed into some clean loungewear that you both desperately needed. As neither of you had left the bedroom for the last few days, the change of scenery was necessary, so the pair of you sluggishly made your way downstairs to the living room, where you set new camp on the sofa with clean blankets.

For the rest of the afternoon, you and Tangerine sprawled out over the couch as you watched old reruns of shitty gameshows, nasally breathing as you enjoyed the comfort of each other.

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

taglist: @tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @slasher-sequels-suck @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @astermath @dynamitehacke @ugh09876554444 @boldlyimportantface @charmedkim @fruitlovertangerine @psiiconic @bubblezuku @sporadiccherryblossomfan @landryslove @daenerys-supremacy

[morwap]

𝐈 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍, 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐌 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋

nav | danny m.list | mini fic | post!entity, dom!danny sub!reader, dead by daylight is its own warning, smut in a trial, vibrator, hand job, mention of the entity watching, going through hatch keeps ur clothes the way they were when the trial ended.

the fog brought you in, covering your being like time and time before, a feeling that felt so weird but all too familiar. most of your trials were with ghostface, he bragged about it over and over in your ear that he was the entity’s favorite which meant he got special treatment, telling you that you were so special since he always picked you, he had an ego but you couldn’t help but like it a bit. you and Danny had a weird relationship, he liked to play with you more than the others and you were sick of being bored while in eternal hell.

danny was excited, he had gotten a gift from her and was excited to use it but she did add a little challenge but it was nothing he couldn’t work with but he hoped luck was on his side.

when you came too you were standing by a tree. you looked around, haddonfield, you hoped it wasn’t michael myers, he was always brutal when you all were in his own realm.

you didn’t see anyone around you, no one to group with which was always a hit or miss. you walked quietly into one of the houses, you went to the generator, it starting to come back to life was always scary, what if they heard you? it always made your stomach hurt.

you heard a scream, bill, only being injured then getting away. you wondered who it was and you guessed it was danny but the slight chance it wasn’t got the best of you every single time. the others stayed away when it was ghostface in a trial, they considered you bad luck when it was him since everywhere you went he was close behind.

“love when you’re in that position bunny” danny said, standing behind you while you were on your knees moving and connecting wires. you jumped and turned which made the generator shudder and blew out smoke with a loud noise. anyone that was close to that gen moved away since bill had told them it was ghostface and they all knew you were in the trial.

danny leaned against the wall next to the gen, “i have a game for us” he said as he looked down at you. “lets go somewhere more private” he added.

he held out his hand and you took it quickly.

danny guided you downstairs, the basement was a good place that they would avoid if noise was made.

“what’s the game?” you asked softly, he walked you to the generator that was against the wall.

“you’ll find out, start doing the gen” he said, you huffed at his smug behavior. you moved to the ground, getting on your knees and you could hear him getting behind you. when you felt his lips on your neck you knew the mask was off and your hands went down to your jean shorts, you unbuttoned and unzipped them but didn’t pull them down a bit.

“eager huh?” danny whispered.

“always” you responded.

“start doing the generator” he said, his tone serious. you furrowed your brows but started moving levers.

danny took his gift out of his pocket, he had snatched bill’s flashlight for the batteries earlier and maybe made sure it worked and teased himself through his pants for a second.

you felt his hands going to your cunt, his gloves were still on you thought it was his gloved finger on your clit before it started to vibrate.

your thighs clenched together and you blew up the generator, your hand grabbed his wrist as your face displayed pleasure. he moved it up and down a little bit, it was on the lowest setting.

“it was a gift from her, i think she likes to watch” danny whispered in your ear. you laughed softly. “here’s what we’re gonna do, your friends need to get all the generators done and you can’t cum until then and maybe ill let you get the hatch” he added, you whined and he turned up the speed.

“i know, i know, its gonna be too much for your sweet cunt to handle huh?” he teased, you nodded and shuddered against him.

“better hope they get done fast” danny whispered with a chuckle. he knew this was a lot, basically like using a vibrator for the first time again since being taken by the fog. your thighs were already shaking and danny took his free hand and brought your hands to the generator.

“be a good survivor and help” he snickered, his cock pressed against you, he moved his hips a little to get more friction. you tried to focus but you couldn’t, you connected the wrong wires and it blew again making you jump into him. the sound of a generator being finished rang through the realm. danny laughed in your ear, the speed on the vibrator went up again. you moaned as the sound of the generator started to decrease.

“danny please, i wanna cum” you moaned.

“then you know what to do” he said.

your hands went back to the generator, your panties were soaked already and your cunt ached. another wire, another lever then another wrong connected wire blew it once again. it was sure that none of the survivors would be coming down to help.

your hand went back and rested on danny’s thigh.

“aw my poor bunny, your fingers must hurt” he fake pouted, moving the vibrator a little faster on your clit. danny hoped the entity would let him keep it, he could imagine fucking you with it while you sucked him off.

“try again” danny said, his other hand came down and into your panties, he spread your lips apart, the vibrator still on your clit.

you moaned out and tried to focus on anything but cumming. your hands went back to it then just a couple minutes later it blew again making you whine but another sound that meant another generator was done rang about. you were over failing the gen and slid one hand behind you and onto danny’s pants.

undoing his zipper and moving under his boxers, stroking his cock as you groaned from a jab of pleasure.

“you wanna help that way? that’s so sweet of you, maybe i should let you cum when they complete the next gen?” he said, you nodded and mumbled please over and over.

he snickered, “but i think you can wait, don’t wanna change the rules mid game” he teased and you whined.

another gen then another, they were on the last gen now. you were so close, tears almost spilling out of your eyes. you continued to jerk danny off and he groaned in your ear. danny moved the hand that was spreading you open to roam your body.

danny’s hand clasped over your mouth, he shushed you and the only thing you could hear was the vibrator and the roar of a generator above you. a smirk crossed danny’s face.

“your friends are right above us, what would they think if they knew about us?” danny whispered in your ear, your hips bucked into the vibrator, you made a sound from under his hand but in reality all you wanted was to cum. you moaned under his hand while they continued to work on the gen.

danny bucked into your hand, he wasn’t worried about cumming this time, he could jerk off later.

the sound of the generator being finished made your eyes go wide, you two heard the shuffles of feet leaving the house as quickly as possible.

“cum for me bunny, cmon you deserve it” danny said, letting go of your face. you bucked harder, finally being able to let go, your legs trembling and jumping back from the vibrator as you came, you closed your eyes and moaned, leaning into him even more.

danny moved the vibrator off you once you were done, he moved your hand while you recovered a little.

“good girl” he whispered. danny fixed his pants and put the vibrator into his pocket. you caught your breath as he moved his hands back to you, zipping and buttoning up your shorts for you.

the sounds of the others leaving made danny aware of the time crunch you two now had.

“better start looking for that hatch bunny” he said as he got up, “ill give you a head start” he added.

you managed to find the hatch before the time ended and once you got back to the camp your panties were still wet.

[pigeonwhumps]

Delirium

MD-264N masterlist

Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch @fuckcapitalismasshole @ghost-whump

@whump-tr0pes @rainbowsandwhumperflies @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance

@rainydaywhump @augusnippets

Augusnippets day 21: delirium | vertigo | hallucinations

Morgan becomes ill.

Set after the end of an AU timeline where Morgan and Asha are recaptured together.

CWs: delirium, distress, implied past torture

Rhian walks into the kitchen and trips right over something. She turns on the dimmest light setting.

"Morgan?"

Morgan tilts their head up, eyes glazed. They're sitting against a cupboard, knees pulled tight to their chest, arms around their legs. Rhian kneels down in front of them. They look awfully pale, forehead shining.

"I thought you'd gone to see Asha. Are you okay, sweetheart?" She reaches her hand out, pressing the back to Morgan's forehead. "You're burning up! How long have you been feeling like this?"

"Hands," mutters Morgan, sounding distressed. Rhian snatches hers away but that's clearly not what they're talking about. "Hands. Hands, hands, stop it, no you don't need to do that sir, I'll obey, hands hands get off!"

"Sweetheart, it's okay. You're safe. There's no-one here to hurt you."

"Hands. Hands hands hands no don't don't hurt Asha no please sir!" Its distress is climbing now, and Morgan brushes at its arms furiously. "Don't, sir, please!"

It's moving. Is that a good sign, because it wouldn't move at all when it first arrived? Or has it always been like this when everything was far too much? Who knows how far back it thinks it is.

Whatever fever they have, it's making them delirious, maybe hallucinating.

"Okay, sweetheart, I won't. I'm not going to touch you. Nobody will hurt you or Asha. I'm going to fetch her, okay?"

Morgan brushes their arms and nods. "Yes, sir."

Rhian dashes upstairs and shakes Asha awake, trying not to disturb Asim at the same time.

She's been a light sleeper for as long as Rhian's known her, but it's gotten worse recently, and she wakes quickly, rubbing bloodshot eyes.

"Rhian? What's wrong?"

"Morgan's–"

"Are they– have they been found again? What–"

"Asha. Listen. They're *fine*. Feverish but fine. But they think you're being hurt, can you come and reassure them?"

Asha's on her feet before Rhian even finishes her sentence and runs down the stairs. Rhian follows, and watches from a short distance as Asha finds them, crouching down in front.

"Hey Morgan. It's Asha."

"Asha! Don't hurt. Not hurt. No leave her alone no hands hands *hands*! I'll be good sir!"

"Hey. Hey, easy, you're safe. Me and Rhian will get you somewhere nice and soft and warm and then hopefully you'll realise that. How about that?"

Something seems to have broken through and Morgan nods. Asha holds out her arms and lifts them up, pulling their arms so they wrap around her neck.

"There you go. Is that better?"

"Hands," it whispers, brokenly. "Warm."

"Yeah. I expect I am."

Rhian approaches then, smiling at Morgan. "Is that better, sweetheart?"

"Warm. Warm. No hands? No hands. Don't touch don't hurt please. So warm."

And then their head drops onto Asha's shoulder.

"Sweetheart?" There's no response, and she pokes their shoulder lightly. Still no response. "They're out cold."

"Just fast asleep, I think." Asha strokes the fluff that's slowly growing on their head. "I was hoping they'd miss out on this illness. I suppose this is what happens when they insist on helping me out."

"They will be okay, won't they?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. They're not that fragile. Let's just get them to bed."

[regretisstoredintheme]

Hi it's your local spawn from hell who wrote about Yandere Mickey-

Anyway, can little me request the turtaleles with pianist MC? Yeah thanks my ideas basic af leave me alone It can be a fic or hcs I don't give a fuck-

I'm just a ginger music nerd who craves content that isn't mine-

Makin my way downtown, walkin’ fa— OH?? WHATS THIS??

WHAT THE FUCK??

*SNATCHES PAPER*

“Pianocat939 asked:

Hi it's your local spawn from hell who wrote about Yandere Mickey- 

Anyway, can little me request the turtaleles with pianist MC? Yeah thanks my ideas basic af leave me alone It can be a fic or hcs I don't give a fuck-

I'm just a ginger music nerd who craves content that isn't mine-“

A/N: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE??? NONONO YOU BITCH YOURE NOT SUPPOSED TO REQUEST FROM ME ??— IM YOUR BIGGEST FAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY INBOX🧍 

YES OFC ILL WRITE IT BUT WHAT??? IM OVER HERE MAKING YOU FANART AND SHIT IN THE BACK AND YOU JUST SAUNTER UP HERE LIKE “yo can I get uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh raggedy cloth and others with piano” GET THE FUCK OUT /j

——-

All turtles x Pianist!Reader

—

(In honor of this occasion I only see it fit to write with your cursed ass names) 

Raggedy Cloth:

HUGE sweetheart.

Likes to sit close to the bench, his head and arms propped up on the wood - taking up as little space as possible.

He watches closely, his tail wagging gently in anticipation as your fingertips drum on the keys. His smile widens as he hears the notes, snuggling up to you. 

Sometimes he has a hard time not hugging your torso, having you there in his arms just lulls the turtle right to sleep— doesn’t matter what you’re playing. 

You could be playing the most chaotic, horrifying, heart wrenching piece of sheet music and as long as he was hugging you, he’d be fine. In fact, he’s incredibly content!

If you gently pat his head before playing, the churring that vibrates from him is rather hard to play over— but eh who are you kidding? It adds a good baseline. 

He hardly notices anytime you mess up, and if it really starts to bug you - he’s rubbing up and down your back, telling you to take a break, get a snack, anything to help you calm down. 

Danielston III:

He isn’t exactly the type to sit and watch you play. 

However, when you had expressed an interest in piano, he quietly began working on a custom-made keyboard. Purple, of course.. with accents of your favorite color. 

It has more sounds than the original, and, it’s a lot more practical. 

It did come with headphones.. however, he may or may not have messed with the jack so it could hook up to his headphones as well — with Bluetooth.

You know how he records everything? 

…yeah.

Sometimes when he’s really overstimulated, he’ll just pull up recordings of your music, the sound calming his nerves until he can get himself back together. 

When he’s understimulated? There is nothing stopping him from remixing your talent.

He DEFINITELY adds your mess - ups too, he thinks your tirades of frustration are actually really humorous.

I like to think he makes most of his ‘jammy jams’ by himself, considering how he knows what he likes, but you know.

Overall he appreciates your talent— but in secret. He’d die before letting you know how much he relies on it. 

Mikey Mouse:

Loves your playing so much!! 

Theres no better feeling then listening to you play and working on his art— he considers you an incredible artist, especially if you compose your own music. 

His mood depends on what you’re playing, it can really affect what he plans on drawing.

If you play chaotic things, he acts like he doesn’t mind at all!! And really he doesn’t, but if you look over his shoulder, you’ll notice it’s inspired him to draw his own chaotic things..  

Things you wouldn’t even wanna unleash on your own worst enemy.

Everytime you finish a song or overcome a rut you were in, he’s bombarding you with compliments. 

“That one was so cool, Y/N!”

“Where did you learn to play like that?”

“You did it! I’m so proud of you..” 

incredibly genuine too— like it’s overflowing.

I feel like this was short, but there’s not really much to say about the mikester 😭 Hes just content to be in your presence. He sees you as an artist the same as him, same level and creative ability. He loves being around you.

Tableo:

He makes sure you have a couch instead of a bench for your piano

Why? 

So he can lean against you and prop his legs up on the armrests of course!!

He’s quick to point out when you do something impressive, like a chord progression you had been practicing all day. his brows furrow as he gives you his signature smirk, “Class-ayy~” 

He often reads comics while you play, chuckling anytime you mess up. 

If you point out his laughter, there is LOADS of teasing in for you. 

“I don’t see what’s so hard!” He laughs, as you scoff, asking him to play it if it’s so easy! “Well, you can’t expect me to just do it perfectly with hands like these..” he gestures to his 6 fingers, but scoots closer to you anyway, muttering something about how “but.. if you insist~”

He’s surprisingly really good his first try! Great for someone with “hands like his”.

If you try to teach him though, he’s yawning through your whole lecture — instead staring at you and how prettily your features meshed together. 

“Leo? Did.. you hear anything I just said..?”

“Hehehehhh.. nope. ♡”

He’s.. Shameless..!

Absolutely…

Shameless.

——

A/N: PLS EXCUSE ME FOR BEING SUCH A FANBOYJFHJDHS op is just really cool ♡

[doodle-bug-nightmares]

RAE’S BDAY GIFT! @rae-unbeloved

Kmskmskmskmskmskmskmskmskmsdnjkwgbdavcjuhygfvbhjugrfdsgbhtf This is not going to be fun but i’m doing it anyway because I love you /p Happy (late) Birthday Rae <3 (also i’m sorry if this is short asf)

During a standard “Jonah and Max are arguing again” session.

Deòiridh :]: FERN Deòiridh :]: I have a question

Fernest Fern >:3: what

Deòiridh :]: Can I hide in your home tonight

Fernest Fern >:3: Sure, my dad has to work the night shift so you can sleep in the living room if you want

Deòiridh :]: Fuck yeah alr ill go message mum rq

Fernest Fern >:3: hell yeah sleepover

Deòiridh :]: WOOOO

Deo was already at Fern’s house because of a conversation they had earlier in the day. Omar snitched on Fern for not drinking water all day, and Deo threatened to come to his house, which they actually did. They broke in through an open window in the basement (which Fern told her about literal minutes before) and had to stay in the basement for 3 hours because his dad WOULD NOT LEAVE. The basement was filled with boxes, so it looked like Omar hadn’t fully moved in yet, Besides the boxes was a small red sofa and matching ottoman, and a TV on top of a box with “Books” written on it pushed against the wall. It was a pretty simple basement, with carpeted floors, and light fixtures on the ceiling. You could probably rent it out to people as an apartment or something. There was a kitchen, a bathroom, even a closet.

Though Deo wasn’t exactly thrilled to be trapped in their best friend’s basement, they still found a way to enjoy it somewhat. They found a book they liked that was on top of one of the boxes and decided to sit down and read it for a bit, they found a thin piece of cardboard that she used as a bookmark. About a half-hour into this little reading endeavor, Fern texted her.

Fernest Fern >:3: Omar’s coming down with snacks (and water)

Deòiridh :]: thank god please tell me he has Doritos

Fernest Fern >:3: Yes he actually went out of his way to go to the store and buy them Deòiridh :]: yippee!!!!!! 

As if on cue, Omar opened the door to the basement and walked down the stairs. He had way too much stuff in his arms and Deo got up from their spot to help him carry some of it and place it on the carpeted floor. “How long have you been down here?” Omar questioned, picking up the book she was reading and inspecting their makeshift bookmark.

“Like three hours, I was bored and that’s one of my favorite books.”  She snatched the book out of his hand and put it on the couch behind them “Oh wow, I didn’t know you were suddenly a bookworm, do I need to drive you to the library or something?” Omar teased, bumping their shoulder with his own. “Har Har, you do know I have to read for school right? It’s not a rare occurrence to see me reading.” Deo retorted, They were about to speak again but Omar held out the bag of Doritos he bought and she snatched it from him.

They talked for about an hour before Omar remembered that the TV had a game console connected to it so they played Mario Kart until Fern entered the basement with his cat Pigeon in his arms. “God finally, Dad just left for work and Saoirse is sound asleep,” Fern put pigeon down and he immediately went to curl up on the ottoman, “though we should probably keep the basement door open just in case she wakes up.” Fern sat down on the sofa with a sigh.

They continued to play Mario Kart while Fern watched them and gave Deo more help than Omar (because he plays favorites). Eventually, after Deo lost for the sixth time, they yelled, “Oh, I have an idea!!!” Fern and Omar looked at her for a solid minute before she spoke again “We should all wear the Sonic onesies and watch the live-action Sonic movies.” Fern immediately got up to get the onesies with a not-so-quiet “gladly”, and then Omar disconnected the game from the TV to plug in the Xbox that Deo had somehow not seen before, Fern came back down the stairs just as Omar finished setting up the Xbox and turning on Disney+. (let’s just pretend for the sake of Sonic that Disney did NOT take Sonic off of their horrible streaming service) 

Deo got the first pick of the onesies since it was her idea. They of course picked silver. Fern went next. He picked Sonic, which left the Shadow onesie for Omar. They took turns changing in the bathroom and decided to put on a mini fashion show because why not? Their lives were stressful; they needed this, okay? 

The fashion show though small and short was still pretty fun, Fern as Sonic went first and quoted the Sonic snapcube fandubs, Deo went second and pulled out the dress to impress poses, And then Omar went last and just stood there, The two of them cheered as loudly as they could for him without waking up Saoirse. “Okay let’s do this” Omar stated as he flipped through the various movies and TV shows on Disney until he got to the first live-action Sonic movie “Fuck yes I am so excited right now" Deo was practically bouncing up and down in her seat.

Fern pulled the hood of his onesie over his head and quoted the movie every few minutes, Omar hadn’t seen the movie before, and when Deo heard this news she pretended to cough and said “Fake fan”. He did, however, know every single one of Dr. Robotnik’s lines and quoted them with fern. 

About halfway through the movie, Fern’s “big brother instincts started tingling” so he went to check up on Saoirse, turns out she woke up and Fern decided to put her in a matching onesie with them, “so we’re in theme for the second movie” He argued, if you couldn’t tell by now, the onesie was tails.

Deo almost cried when Fern let them hold her, Saoirse patted Deo’s face with her little hands and they instantly broke. They forced Omar to play the movie so they didn’t break down crying, He played it and Deo held Saoirse throughout the rest of the first movie.

Before they started the Second movie Deo gave Saoirse back to Fern and she fell asleep on his chest within minutes. “Please help me,” Fern laughed as much as he could with a baby on his chest, “I can’t move her or she’ll wake up.” Though he made himself look like he was panicking he definitely wasn’t, He was staring right at her and kissing her forehead whenever he could. 

“Stop acting like this is the worst, you know you love it,” Omar poked him on the shoulder, “Plus you can still see the TV so you’re alright.”

“You’re right, she is adorable when she’s asleep” Fern poked Omar back

“You guys make me sick,” Deo joked. 

“We literally just poked each other you freak” Omar retorted. “But now we should all shut up cause I’m playing the movie”

Fern still quoted Sonic but a lot less because he didn’t want to wake Saoirse, She ended up waking up anyway, and Deo got to hold her again. It was pretty late by the time they finished the movie and Fern had fallen asleep on Deo’s shoulder.

“Thanks for doing this with me,” She said, adjusting Fern’s head so he wasn’t uncomfortable, “I’ve been really down lately, and this helped a lot”

“You can always ask us to hang out, You’re really cool Deo.” Omar moved closer to them and hugged her

“I trust you and Fern a lot more than the others, You guys are like my family, I love you” Deo stated leaning against Fern.

“I think I speak for both of us when I say we love you too Deo” Omar kissed her forehead and squished her face.

Fern woke up 20 minutes later so they decided to put out air mattresses and go to sleep, They stayed up until 2 am just talking about anything and everything, laughing and crying. These people really were Deo’s family.

OH SHIT i’m finally done thank gods i’m so tired right now i’m gonna do die now :3 /silly

[sensei-venus]

Omg for the social anxiety Reader what if Hawk's is the one to approach her and help her out? I need to know how he'd react to someone like that having been a shy bullied kid himself. If you want to ofc

(Unedited) (Route Post To This Post)

Reader felt herself freeze up as the new voice seemed to loom over her. A shiver ran up her spine as she slowly looked up at the person. Her heart speeds up a bit from being so close to a stranger.

Her eyes slowly glanced up to find a boy around her age looming over her. He wears a short mohawk and crystal blue eyes that seemed to glare into her soul. Her mind started to race as she thought about all of the things that could happen in that very moment. She felt her lip tremble a little.

“Uh you want this or not? I'll take it if you don't, I have been looking for a new hoodie.”

“No...no ill take it, thanks..” Reader was quick to take the hoodie from the boys outstretched hand. He difby seem to care that she basically snatched it right out of his hands.

He raised a brow as he looked at some of the shirts on her arm. A few band tees called out to him. Stuffing his hands into his pockets he said “You listen to them?” he points to one of the shirts. Reader looks down at the shirt he is pointing at and simply nods.

Her face is already starting to get hot, she didn't want to be here. Why did some attractive guy in the middle if the mall have to see her struggling to get a stupid hoodie out of all people. She wanted to but her tongue and run right now.

“Iv been trying to find their album for months now, it's sold out everywhere. Like I could just pull out my phone and listen to it but I would die for a hard copy.”

“Have you tried Tip Top records, over by the old roller rink? They sell CDs too and they tend to have a lot of sold-out stuff because like no one goes in there. It's like a hiding hole these days.”

Reader clamped up, eyes wide.

Was she really talking to some stranger right now with no issue?

“Really? Never even thought to go into that place but that definitely makes sense. I don't hear about anyone going to that place let alone buying anything from there.” The guy nodded and smirked. His teeth were bright and full as he looked her way.

“Oh yeah the names Hawk by the way.”

“Uh Reader.”

Reader didn't know why this guy was making her smile so hard right now. Any other day she would be running away to get out of this situation. She wouldn't even be able to get a few words out. But some how this guy was making her talk with no problem. It felt so weird and new to be able to talk to someone like this. For once she felt like she was having a normal conversation with a stranger.

Her heart was beating hard but not out of anxiety, there was a new feeling. The initial anxiety was slowly trickling away and new feelings were bubbling up inside her. For once she wanted to continue talking to someone new. Her stomach felt weird in a good way, she wanted to keep feeling that way. Talking to “Hawk” seemed to make her anxiety slip away.

“Hey I don't know what you're doing right now besides shopping, but some of my friends are going to go hang out in the court yard. Probably just get something to eat and chill. Why didn't you come? You don't have to talk or anything if you didn't want to....it would be cool if you just stuck around.” Hawk scratched the back of his head. His eyes lazily rolled as he threw a thumb behind him, a group of other teens was in the back laughing about something on a shirt. Those must be the friends he's referring to.

Reader looked around him and just stared at his little friend group for a minute.

“Trust me they're cool and if you feel uncomfortable or something, just let me know. I'll make them shut the fuck up real quick.”

She wanted to laugh at that but she could tell by his tone he was serious. Clearly, he didn't find the idea of his group of friends making her uncomfortable to be very funny. He watched for her reaction but didn't try to state her down anymore. He seemed to understand her nervous posture by this point.

Taking a deep breath Reader held the new hoodie close to her chest. Cheeks burning with nervousness and embarrassment. Slowly she looked at Hawk with a small smile.

“I would love to hang out with you and your friends. But I will warn you that I'm not much of a talker.” Reader mumbles out. Hoping she didn't chase off the new guy with her anxiety.

She was shocked when he just grinned and laughed saying “That's completely fine. Trust me when I say that most of my friends talk like crazy. They basically entertain themselves at this point. I would just enjoy it if you were there.” she sheepishly nodded at him.

The fact he wasn't pushing her to talk made her breathe a sigh of relief.

“Just uh meet us at the food court in a few minutes ok? It's not hard to sport up. See you later Reader.” he smirked and gave her a small wave before turning and walking off. He walled back to his friends who just slapped him on the back and went back to talking. The whole time he wears a smirk on his face.

Occasionally he turns his gaze back to her, just watching to see if she has run off or not. The whole time her cheeks feel like a lit furnace.

She quickly turns around and makes her way to the register. Clenching her shirts and hoodie in her arms.The smile that took over her face was huge and weird to her. For once she couldn't wait to go hang out with people, especially strangers at that. As she started to check out her stuff with the cashier she looked back toward where Hawk was standing before.

For a split second, she caught his eye and they just stood there looking at one another. Reader gave a small wave. Unexpectedly Hawk also gave a small wave, making sure none of his friends were watching him. He grinned at her before turning back to them.

Maybe meeting new people wasn't so bad when it was people you felt drawn too.

Maybe she could give it a try.

[3mutantsinatrenchcoat]

It takes a village to raise a family part 4

Part 3 , part 5

Rural au, once again, by the amazing @angelpuns

Tw: this short contains descriptions of late stage hyperthermia and brief hints at death during a talk

My husband has 3 rules during the winter. "Wear warm clothes, don't drink or eat anything cold, and do not walk outside unless you can see light".

Well, one fine winter my husband fell sickly ill, along with my youngest. Not only where they on my mind so where the young turtles, little Leo would wander from the rest, Mikey as excited as ever to be in town, so much so his eyes where a guide that never stayed on path...little Donnie whose own body couldn't stand on its own and little raph as head strong as a bull.

The last thing I remembered before stepping into the snow storm was shoving my feet in my boots, I had no time for socks. Throwing on my coat, I had no time for layers. The slam of the door as the wind argued it's point against me, but I would not listen. I was out of medicine and time.

Then there was cold, and wind, and white everywhere. I couldn't see more than two feet ahead, we didn't have many storms in the winter.

I could barely make out lights of lanterns inside houses, stumbling as my feet sunk into the snow. At some point I remember tripping a lot, feeling like hands were grabbing at my ankles, wrapping around my boots.

I don't remember much, but I do remember hearing shouting not far from me. I remember when the cold started to warm. And then it got hotter...and hotter. My cloak was too warm, I was wearing too much. I would roast in this weather.

I remember just barely pulling off my cloak before it got snatched right back over my head, a gruff and angered voice shouting at me to keep it on. Burning hot hands touching both sides of my face. "let go-!"

I don't even think I could hear my voice clearly, but I heard his just fine. "no! You are coming inside with me!" It was a demand, no room for argument, stomping of feet and creaking of wood I knew to be a porch, a specific porch with specific creaky spots.

I remember how i barely felt being lifted, I could barely feel the shoulder I was on if it wasn't for how warm it was. I barely remember the chatter of the turtle boys.

Then, time went past with every blink.

The bright of fire, the crackling, the burning feeling.

The way the kids looked as I kicked and fought their father over a blanket, shaking and biting. The way metallic tasted on my tongue as I snagged his hand.

I would blink again and I had a cup in one hand, Mikey's in the other, Splinter pulling away snow from my fur with gloves, tossing it into a bucket that Raph watched from behind. "I know it's hot, it's okay, let it burn. I know it's burning let it burn" I could barely feel the tears that froze to my face pulling off my fur.

I would blink again and now Donnie and Leo where at another side, rambling about some book from the market, Splinter's warm hands cupped around my ears. "Pay attention to those words Flint!" A snappy voice laced with anger and fear. A demand, a protest.

And then it was as if time got slower, the boys all curled up asleep and Splinter staring at me, sitting on the floor. "...your eyes. You paying attention?"

"mm.." i barely moved my head and the room was blurring again, tears building up.

"alright...keep...keep talking to me...keep on talking.." he got up and then I felt warm on the side of my face. I couldn't help the noise that came out, or the burning hot tears that flooded out afterwards.

"I know..I know it burns.."

"augh!" It felt like I was boiling from the inside and burning from the outside, the heat from the fire, the boys and Splinter was uncomfortable..even more uncomfortable once I saw my fingers move but I couldn't feel it.

"s-splin-..splin-ta-..I- I can't-" it felt like my throat was tightening, but Splinter sat beside me and pulled me into his side. He didn't say another word, not until my crying had stopped and all I could let out was Shakey breaths.

"...you really are an idiot..." Splinter spoke, not with anger but something I've never heard in his voice before.

"wh...what?" When I turned to look at him, his eyes were lost from reality...really...glossy and sad looking.

"why did you go out...? It's storming and you are little- not only that you-..you nearly froze-"

"...my family is sick..your boys c-could have gotten sick...I-i was out of medicine.." the shame flickered inside my chest, only to be drowned out but a laugh. One of both mockery and disbelief. Eyes wide and filled with shock in this human's eyes.

"Flint, you sound like a buddy of mine..." His voice was filled with anger and mournfulness. "you know, I was a soldier..." He starts, glancing to see if I was paying attention, of course I was. I could listen to him forever.

"...we had a mission, one day. It was snowing that day, we had to rescue our medics.." He went silent, then he shook his head slightly, blinking away at some thoughts that I would never get to hear. "...they got too warm, just like you. We didn't bring back our medics"

"...I don't...i-.." it clicked and the cold that washed over was worse than anything I had felt before. The more I think about it the more I realize I barely know Splinter. He's my neighbor, I help with his kids and he built me a pump for water. We learned to cook for our family, yet we never shared stories...well. I did, Splinter didn't.

There was more to him than I would ever understand, but...for now....

I felt him jump as I put my head against his side, moving my tail to cover his hand, situated in his own lap...now that I saw it, it was soaked, and trembling..or well I was trembling...but it was nothing compared to the slump that Splinter gave. One that meant he understood the gesture.

That no matter what I would always, be here to listen.

[tinkabelle24]

To Build a Home

Chapter 10: Finally

TW! Sexual references, mild nudity.

Masterlist / Chapter 9

---

Raph's brain must've short-circuited at some point as he very nearly missed the mark; even with his hand cradling her cheek.

Instead of her lips, he caught the corner of her mouth. So, not a complete failure; though, obviously not what he was aiming for.

One fucking job...

Val stiffened immediately, hands darting to his plastron. He panicked; the thought of having potentially misinterpreted her feelings and overstepped made him physically ill.

Convinced she was about to reject him, the terrapin promptly pulled away.

"Raph...?" He heard her murmur. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.

He flinched when she touched his forearm. "Hey, it's alright," she soothed, thumb caressing his scales. She stepped forward to close the distance between them, bringing her other hand to the nape of his neck.

Raph's breath hitched.

He tentatively lifted his gaze to meet hers, and she offered him a soft smile. He could drown in those eyes...

Guiding his hand to her waist, Val released him to cup his face with her palms. He took in the perfume on her neck; it smelt stronger tonight. He couldn't help wondering whether she'd done it deliberately to attract his attention...?

If so, she didn't need to - she already had it.

Raph could only watch as she leaned the rest of the way in, pressing her lips against his own in a deep, tender kiss.

It set his soul ablaze.

With renewed courage, the terrapin encircled her waist and pulled her against him. He returned the kiss, albeit with a little more urgency. He'd like to think she enjoyed it as she held his head in place, refusing to let him pull away.

Raph heard a door creak as Val leaned back. Next thing he knew, they were standing inside the bathroom, with her attempting to use her small form to push him toward the nearest wall.

Cute.

The brunette giggled against his lips as he spun, gently pressing her against the tile. Gripping her bare hips, he could feel goosebumps along her skin.

"You cold?"

"Absolutely not," she breathed, yanking him back in.

He did this to her...

Growing bolder, Raph began venturing under her shirt; tracing along the dimples on her lower back, then up her spine. The moment his fingers laid upon her lace bralette; Val's hands shot to the hem of her shirt.

The brunette snatched his wrist as he attempted retreating. "It's okay; that's not what I-" she then proceeded tittering bashfully. "...I was trying to take it off..."

Raph gawked at her, mouth agape like a gasping fish.

"Too much...?"

"Absolutely not," the red-banded terrapin parroted with a smile. He suddenly realised something. The door - it didn't lock. "Hang on a sec."

"What're you doing?"

Val's gaze followed him as he proceeded searching the cabinets for the item. Casey always kept a fork stashed away to jam the door whenever he and April showered together.

Ah, there you are. He finally found it behind Donnie's copious containers of dental floss. "I'm ain't about to let someone walk in on ya."

Once it was angled just right, he pushed the fork between the door and the frame. He tried the handle; it wasn't perfect, but should make a good enough deterrent.

"There. Ta-da."

Val giggled as Raph presented her the makeshift lock, before approaching him with a suggestive smile.

Oh, boy. Here we go...

---

The smell of fried eggs drew Raph from of his restful slumber. Opening his eyes, he quickly realised he wasn't where he usually greeted the day.

Instead of his hammock, he found himself laid beneath a sheet atop the mattress of a springy sofa bed. His bandana was missing, so was the rest of his gear. He peered over the edge - there they were, scattered across the carpet.

"Morning," a familiar, feminine voice called to him from behind. He turned over-

-Oh. Yep, that's right.

It’s all comin’ back to me.

"Would you like some coffee?"

Val was standing by the stove, preparing what appeared to be an omelette. She was dressed in only a nightshirt; her large Koi tattoo partially visible through the mildly revealing thigh-slit. Her dark locks were loosely pushed behind both ears.

"Mornin'... uh, please," Raph replied, pulling himself into a sitting position. His eyes suddenly grew wide. "Shit - what time is it?"

The brunette checked her watch. "It's 4:53am," she answered with a knowing smile. "Plenty of time before dawn."

"Whaddaya doin' up so early?"

Val smirked as she plucked a handful of basil and set it on her cutting board. "I've got work in an hour, remember?"

"Ah, right." Raph couldn't tear his gaze away from her skilful slicing.

Yeah, her skillful slicing...

She chuckled softly before asking her next question. "How'd you sleep?"

The best freakin' sleep I'd had in months...

"Like a baby, heh... You?"

"Same. Though I wish I could stay in bed a little longer..." Val winked at him as she deposited the basil into the pan.

Raph was so grateful he couldn't blush.

"Can I do anythin'?" He asked, scooting to the edge of the bed. "I feel weird just sittin' here while you're makin' stuff."

"Sure. You can do the coffees if you like? I'll grab the mugs."

The mugs were on the highest shelf. Because of course they were.

Raph couldn't help but chuckle. He knew she was a tease, but it appeared she wasn't even trying to hide it anymore.

It ushered his thoughts to last night. They were all over each other. He doubted there was a part of her he'd not acquainted himself with, nor her him. Well, except for one; though neither of them were ready nor equipped for that.

In good time, he hoped.

"Did you tell your brothers you were leaving last night?" Val asked, once they were settled on the bed with their breakfast.

They'd snuck out the back tunnel; Raph didn't want to be bombarded with questions he was unprepared to answer.

"Yeah, I told Casey," Raph answered, before playfully rolling his eyes. "But, of course, he told Mikey; they were sending me all the emojis. Don't tell Leo, but I put my shell-cell on silent."

“Ah. I was wondering why you were on your phone so much.”

“Yeah, sorry; I’ve always gotta check it whenever I get a notification.”

“Don’t stress,” she reassured. “I’m not mad. I was just curious.”

“So, last night...” Raph had finally worked up the courage to ask the million-dollar question. “...Did you like it?”

Val offered a tender smile as she set her plate down. “Yes,” she nodded. “I did. Very much... You?”

He grinned at her. “Is the Pope Catholic?”

At that, the brunette blushed fiercely and lowered her gaze.

“What made you wanna do it...?” She finally asked, struggling to maintain eye contact. She was doing the thing, again - twiddling her thumbs whenever she became nervous.

It was now Raph’s turn to lend the tender smile. “I like you, Val,” he confessed. His heart felt ready to burst through his plastron, but he pushed through it. “I mean, I really like you. You have no idea, heh...”

“I really like you too,” Val smiled back as she leant forward to squeeze his hand.

The terrapin abruptly averted his gaze, eyes brimming with tears. He groaned under his breath. Fuck. Here we go, again...

“I tried pushin' it away, cos I didn’t... I didn’t wanna hold ya back...”

Val blinked. “Hold me back...?” She asked gently.

“I ain’t human, Val. I've nothin' to give... money, security, house... kids- I can’t-”

“Kids...? Raph, I-”

“-Look, I realise it’s super, super early, but that’s what I think about...”

“Raph, listen. I can’t have kids anyway – I'm infertile.”

---

Masterlist / Chapter 11

@android-cap-007 @happymoonangel @miss-andromeda

[annabelvallie]

The Regime of Gluttony and Starvation

Word count: 1.9k

I wonder if they know. Do they sip the golden bubbled concoction and think of every throat that spit cannot even comfort? If they pull seared flesh from polished forks, do they imagine the gnashing, desperate teeth of children who claw desperately at what they call “dog food”?

They call this city Eden. In school, we’re taught that we are safe from disease, agony, and sadness. Something everyone at this grotesquely overdecorated table knows nothing of. How can the pleasured know they are joyous when they have never been pained? How can the glutted know themselves satisfied if they have never been hungry? Eden was built on gluttony. We are told the outside world is sick. A type of illness that doesn't forgive but punishes. I wouldn’t call it sick—morbid maybe. I had learned that word from one of the novels we read in Lyceum education; the book ‘A Dark Hour’ was written some 500 years ago. The author called the country “hell on earth,” a place where filth and evil are magnified. Our city’s teachers reference beyond the walls as desolate nothingness, birthed from a war that was far worse than in the story. 

Rusted oranges and browns made the outside world. Kicked-up dirt filtered the air with a thick haze; irritating eyes that would never know tears; water was too precious to be wasted on emotion. The heavy sound of moans and comfortless cries carried with no destination, as did the smell of waste, constantly assaulting the hairs in your nose. Hot air thickened my throat, making it hard to breathe. Bodies discarded like statues haunted the breathing, similar to those on paper that piled into sunken earth. Every movement was strained as if they had to fight for the ability to take a step. Through the swarm of people, there was no end.

Barbed wire snatched a handful of skin from my thigh, making me wince. Before the sultry air could oxidise the gash, flies were frenzying on the crimson. 

I had never known suffocation until the day of Matia.

“Joseph, pass the grapes please.” A short man whose jaw seemed to rest slack held out his hand, motioning to the silver bowl that harboured bulbs of green and purple. Passing it to him, I watched as he pierced the skin of a grape with pearly teeth. All I could think of was the people beyond the wall who would fight one another for a cluster of what he would consume in a short moment, not out of hunger but boredom, before the main course arrived.

Praefectus Cain, the man sitting at the head of the table with a Navy Blue suit, held up his glass, motioning for silence. “Welcome, Abigail Dupont, Elijah Fournier, and Joseph Martin.” He hovered his glass in the direction of the girl on my left and the boy on my right. “We thank you for taking your position in the Imperium. We trust that after Matia today your eyes have been opened and you will continue Eden’s legacy and keep our people safe and at peace.” 

The values of Eden surround love, whether that means the effort and care of a pastry or the simple act of clearing a guest’s plate. Gratitude is more important than the act itself. The way your fork and knife lie after a meal is communication and appreciation on its own. The meal was delicious if the handles were south with their blade and prongs pointed east. Lust, the overwhelming desire of another, is praised almost as highly as a perfectly smooth-shelled macaroon. Devotion is embroidered into liquor that makes your brain twist as if it were inside a dough mixer. 

Here, to love is to feed, eat, indulge, and blur gluttony and greed into the same idea. Seared beef, vanilla sponge cake, caramel, strawberries that dribble at the corners of your mouth, thick shakes with colour dye, the peel of a mandarin, wishbones, salted butter, sherbert, pineapple that burns your tongue, appetisers, and hors d’oeuvres. The table shrank as plates piled from the kitchen-what used to be a pristine cotton tablecloth now plates of every meal imaginable. It is a special day, of course. As people began to feast, I felt as though my body had conformed to a jelly-like substance, unable to move on its own, only able to react to the drunken movement surrounding it. 

The next day I found myself focused on every passing person on my way to work. Specifically, I stared at how their mouths curled into smiles and eyes creased with joy. Stupidity and negligence are bliss. If they knew what was outside, they too would be burdened and distraught. 

A woman with blonde hair that moved like ripples around her head caught my attention. Her cheeks and lips looked to be stained with cherry juice, and she took her time letting her heels click on and drag with every step she took. At that moment I thought of how she laughed—if it was quiet and withdrawn or louder. How did she prefer her eggs—scrambled, poached, fried, or boiled? I thought about a lifetime in a minute, and during that time, I forgot about what was beyond the walls. Possibly, I could remain this way. If I mocked what everyone around me did, I might find the joy that they experienced. If I married and partied and ate, would that sickening feeling I have held with me since Matia dissipate? 

The Imperium was stationed north of Eden, just past a row of oak trees that signified the end of the orchid plantation. I would park in the furthest spot from the entrance, press through a swing door that moves awfully slowly to accommodate those who wobble more than walk, and make my way through the hallway that runs through the city wall. Even though I pass through five days out of seven, I cannot help but stare out the wall’s windows every chance I have. The small slits in the hallway that allowed tainted auburn light to flow through and the large painting-like glass in the central office reminded everyone of what we shield from our citizens. At lunch for an hour, we sat at a stretched table overlooking Eden’s farmland and feasted on whatever specials the chef had plotted, yesterday was a honeyed duck. “I don’t know what is wrong with you, Joseph; this is one of the best ducks I’ve had this year and you refuse to eat more than an appetiser,” Abigaile exclaimed after finishing off the meat. 

I replied softly, knowing more than one ear was listening. “My appetite isn’t as strong as it used to be. Thank you for your consideration” It was an uncommon phenomenon, a refusal of food. Not eating is the equivalent of vetoing oxygen. “I’m just going to use the bathroom, excuse me.” I stand, placing the folded unstained napkin on the cushioned chair. Taking a last glance at the quantity of people and the view of my city I continue down one of the hallways. Even though my stomach growled, the idea of eating repulsed me. During the day my mouth would salivate in the hope of relief, by night when all I wanted was to binge I would finally make myself something.  Tonight I may have the oysters my father brought round this morning. He works at a lease and every time I crack salt over my plate I think of him, how his skin smelt like the unfiltered water and his hands that were callus and coarse from cutting open their shells. 

Taking each step I find myself mimicking the women I see most days on my way here. Click, drag. Click, drag… and just as I do with every window, discarding the bathroom where I was headed, my eyes wander to the clear surface overlooking the apocalyptic world a mere twenty metres away from our utopia. Instead of continuing further, my body lurches to a frozen halt. Apparently, on the other side, they can’t see through the glass. To them, it looks like the stone pattern remains unbroken. I don’t believe that. Staring through the glass, I am met with another man mirroring myself. His eyes are tired but focused and unwavering from mine. His nose has a crease at the bridge as if it were broken, and his teeth are jagged with gums receding so highly that they could have been finger bones. What scared me the most was how hollow his cheeks were. As if scooped with a soup spoon. His face resembles somewhat of Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream’. 

Instead of taking a step forward in concern or back in retreat, I simply stared. When I felt someone lock their knees next to me, my gaze remained on the window in a competition-like fashion.

Praefectus Cain’s firm voice began, “Joseph, is something upsetting you? Are you hungry?” 

Pulling my head back, feeling the muscles tense around every vertebra in a rehearsed sequence like piano keys in a glissando. I looked at him—at his round stomach, at his creased forehead, at his thin blond hair, at his tie bar with the words ‘Ab ovo usque ad mala’ engraved into the silver—before staring back at the window like a child and a cartoon film. I felt nauseated like I had just drunk vomitorium, a tiny ounce glass filled with yellow liquid that made you sick so you could go on eating. They usually have them at balls and galas. “I’m fine, thank you… Do…” My voice crackled as if a teaspoon of honey sat on my windpipe. “Do you ever think of helping them, the people out there?”

He thought, not about the answer but how to word it. “Yes, when I was your age.”

“I can’t think of how to describe it. I feel bad, sorry.

“Guilt.” The word was spoken as if he had been waiting to use it. 

The word was alien: “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know what that means.”

We remain facing forward, “It means you have morals, something only a few here hold. Knowledge is the heaviest of all burdens, even if it carries no weight.  

“We have food to spare.” By then the man on the other side of the wall had walked off, his feet kicking up more loose orange powder-like dirt.

“How could you choose who receives a bounty? Every living thing is bound by fate. The people of Eden are safe from hunger because they are lucky. If we were to open our resources, what would happen? They are animals, Joseph. Unlike us, their world does not have a drop of civilisation.” Through the window, two boys ran towards a bird that had fallen to the ground. With desperate efforts, the taller one had proved victorious in the feathered corpse, and the shorter one crouched over the ground, echoing the fallen animal. “Tell me, Joseph, would they eat, or would they devour? The flesh of our loved ones would be torn from their bones and they would drink like we do red wine. These animals do not know amity, love, or kindness; we are survivors, that is what separates us.”

With a sigh, I could feel the pads of my fingers tingle with anticipation of cold sweat and unease. “Then, if being inhumane constitutes our difference, are we not the same?”

[moki-dokie]

my OCs

updated since the last time i did this

Edrick Nekomata x Werecat Born at the tail end of the Edo period near present-day Tokyo (Japanese nekomata mother, white Dutch werecat father.) Watched his parents get murdered and had his sister die in his arms all as a very young child. The majority of his childhood was spent in a brothel, suffering severe and prolonged abuse. Total masochistic, mental basket case with a good heart who is absolutely head over heels for his morally questionable husband Cole, a sluagh who escaped the wild hunt and snatched a body. He is drugs, sex, kink, and violence incarnate. You’d be hard pressed to find something he’s actually ashamed of. He’s almost always right on the edge of a total mental collapse from nearly two centuries of untreated, severe mental illness mostly brought on by heinous and extreme childhood trauma. You never quite know if he wants to stab you or fuck you. Maybe both. He’s chilled out (slightly) since he and Cole moved to the quiet of Donegal, Ireland with Cole's best friend, Lucky, from before his death. Though Donegal isn't the bustling city life Ed had grown accustomed to in the States, it isn't without its own excitement and trouble. Paired with: Cole, Lucky (both played by my partner) Shares continuity with: Jess, Lune

Jesse Werewolf, natural born Massive, beefy, looks like he could rip your head clean off your shoulders, but is actually just one gigantic softie. Born during the famine, his parents fled Ireland for the States and went west where they encountered and were adopted by a large pack hidden deep in the desert canyons. He grew up only knowing their culture, which was similar to the Diné tribe the pack originated and were allied with. Ended up becoming pack leader, but his tenure was cut short when hunters ambushed the pack and massacred all but him; pups and expecting mothers all, including his mate-to-be and their unborn child. After some time spent trying to heal and cope in various unhealthy ways, he fled to his parents home of Ireland, hoping maybe to find answers to all of the pain. Despite the sorrow and guilt that plague him, Jess has remained a tender and kind soul. He's a polite, old school gentleman. Quiet and reserved but amongst the first people to offer help. Just a simple landscaper and gardener who’s been hidingliving in Sligo, Ireland for the last few decades, alone. With severe body dysmorphia, riddled with PTSD, and an alcoholic who often relapses, he had completely shut himself away from intimacy in any form. Until recently, when the light of his life came crashing in to chase away the dark. Paired with: Russ (played by my partner) Shares continuity with: Ed, Lune

Lunetta Werewolf, natural born inactive Bluntly honest, bitchy, and aggressive, but fun and flirtatious. She’s never really fit in that well and is still trying to “find herself” in a way. Without memories at the moment, she’s just trying to figure out her past and wtf happened. She’s very much “one of the boys” while also bringing the sex appeal. Shares continuity with: Tristian(Alternate version of her), Jess, Ed

Tristian inactive Werewolf, natural born The sweetest and gentlest goodest boy ever. Completely and totally submissive in every aspect of life possible. He only wants to please people, have a good cuddle, and do some zoomies in his wolf form. He’s a thrall in the setting he’s played in, but doesn’t mind it all too much as he’s been one for most of his life and doesn't know how to properly care for himself without a master besides. Comes loaded with some severe physical and mental trauma from past sexual abuse, but he’s a bouncy ball of sunshine despite it. Shares continuity with: Lune