#if she wasn't like that then mmm i think he'd still love her

[silverwhittlingknife]

so like. saying jiang yanli should have guessed what material need there was and acted to fill it, unasked, presumptuous as all heck, is saying she should have been a different person, the right person for this specific situation, and that failing to be that person exactly is a moral failing. that she had the obligation to understand and react to the scenario the way the viewer analyses as optimal. and i think that reaction to the character kind of exposes what a destructive approach this is to thinking about people. no one has ever 'just,' you know? optimizing the process of being a person is never gonna be worth what you lose in the attempt. not getting everything right is part of the human condition.

THIS ^^^^

for anyone who criticizes jyl for bringing soup to yiling instead of like, money—

we should first ask: could jyl actually have given wwx money? she must have something, you say. the jins are rich! she could even give him some of her betrothal gifts.

but realistically jyl probably didn't have much money at all! let's think this through. not only did she not marry jzx yet at the time of her yiling visit, but (based on many, many imperial palace tv shows lol) all her worth would be in betrothal gifts of jewelry, fine clothing, or other misc items, which is 1) heavy and difficult to transport without notice, but that doesn't actually matter bc it's ultimately 2) disrespectful to sell and worse to have the gifter find out when they come by for tea and you begin chatting about the event in two days and they say oh where's that one-of-a-kind jade bracelet I gave you wouldn't it match the also one-of-a-kind silk garment that lady jin gave you sooo well oh you will look so lovely in it won't you wear it.

or worse, have it recognized in some random pawn shop on the street by someone who has never really liked you and WILL get you in deep shit for it.

does jyl have any money from the jiang side? well, jc has been busy at work rebuilding lotus pier and the clan since before wwx's defection, and even if he's not borrowing a shitton of money from the jins (which he almost certainly is), he definitely has the opposite of surplus funds. he's also busy organizing and buying gifts for the wedding too, making him go more in the red because you know the jins aren't going to want cheap-ass things even if you don't have money.

let's say jyl did get a significant bride price (aka given money money)—not only does that go to her family (jc), but it is given during the ceremony (which, again, hasn't happened yet). and, realistically, jc probably will have to use it to offset the costs of the above.

beyond that, let's just take this scene from a storytelling perspective. sometimes it is simply about the emotional resonance. the vibes. let's say jyl did have some funds to give wwx. but imagine if jyl was like here a-xian take all this money 😐 ok sure useful for some period. but is that the gift that wwx would want during the first time he's gotten to see her in months, and likely the last time he will see her in a long, long time (possibly years)? would that be impactful for the story?

meanwhile, the soup she brings represents her love. we hear in the extra, from wwx's own words, the care she put into selecting the ingredients, making sure the lotus root is fresh and perfectly ripe. it also takes hours for her to even make iirc. wwx derives so much comfort from it—that's why it comes up again and again. it is one of his first memories of feeling safe in lotus pier, of home. it provides wwx some semblance of normalcy. he hasn't had any this entire time, and is likely something he aches for whenever he's homesick or sad or questioning his choices. it is simply, given the circumstances, incredibly thoughtful. (and how meaningful was it to see wn treat it with such respect? seeing that is literally the moment in the chapter when wwx realizes—ah. the wens are people I cherish as well.)

and regarding jyl coming in her wedding dress—it is not for herself. it is for wwx. we saw how devastated wwx was just to even hear that jyl was getting married because he had to hear it from someone who wasn't jc or jyl. and to immediately then realize he cannot go? even more heartbreaking. and jyl, who clearly knows wwx extremely well, would know, without having to ask, how upset wwx would be to miss such a huge occasion in their lives that was previously a given. this is what she can do to offset that, even just a little. because jyl came in her dress, wwx gets to experience a piece of her wedding even though he cannot physically be there. not to be a 2000s mastercard ad, but there really are some things that money can't buy.

idk there's also some fist-shaking at the class discrepancy in the scene. and I get it. it sucks! her dress is certainly lavish, and the wens are farming on a corpse mountain and have only just started making a bit of money. yes, it's fine to think that if you were in the character's shoes, maybe you would've found it to be in poor taste—but the story isn't about you. it is about these characters, and what this scene means to them. and I'm of the camp that if there is no indication that wwx is upset by any of this, and in fact moved by it, there really isn't reason for the reader to be righteously indignant about these things on a character's behalf. that's just not the focus or the point of the scene.

plus, jyl is sharp. she is likely more aware of the discrepancy than most people think. she has also been shown in the text to not just be another sheltered, spoiled noble (re jzx soup incident). but if what you want is guilt from jyl—I personally think that guilt is performative, and accomplishes nothing. her guilt would've only made wwx unhappy. instead, here is an action that is meaningful and brings joy to wwx. to share her joy with him is not selfishness, nor is it some lack of awareness of their situation. if in this moment, she shows off her dress, if she revels in her joy, her happiness, it is for wwx, and wwx is incredibly moved by it.

and let's face it—wwx, of all people, would want to see jyl in a wedding dress that cost more than rebuilding lotus pier from the ground up. he wouldn't want anything less.

[its-avalon-08]

Fellas!!! just hear me out!!! One story about Jenson Button based on Edison Lighthouse - Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes). She's his assistant, a little clumsy in her daily life but she's very efficient at her job. He has a massive crush on her

love grows where my rosemary goes (jb22)

y/n fumbled with the travel mug, spilling a searing stream of coffee down her pristine white blouse. "oh no!" she shrieked, hopping on one foot as the liquid burned through the fabric.

her hair is kinda wild and free

jenson button, watching from his driver's room doorway, fought back a laugh. it wasn't the first time his ever-so-slightly-clumsy assistant had a mishap. yet, despite the constant stream of minor disasters – misplaced files, tripped heels, rogue staplers launching staples across the room – y/n was the epitome of efficiency. her calendar was his lifeline, her emails impeccably crafted, and her research skills unmatched.

And people say she's crazy

he cleared his throat, stepping into the room. "seems like love grows where your coffee goes today, eh y/n?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

y/n whipped around, the mug clutched precariously in her hand. "jenson! don't start," she mumbled, cheeks flushing a shade that rivaled the spilled coffee.

he couldn't help but grin. "here, let me help." jenson took the mug, placing it on his desk. "go change, I'll grab you another coffee."

"thank you," y/n mumbled, scurrying out of the office.

jenson shook his head, a warmth spreading through him as he watched her go. he'd been harboring a secret crush on y/n for months. but confessing felt like navigating a formula 1 race with a blindfold on – potentially disastrous.

he grabbed a fresh mug, a mischievous idea forming in his head. as y/n returned, looking sheepish but still beautiful, he placed the mug on his desk. "here you go," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

y/n cautiously took a sip. "mmm, that's better. thanks, jenson."

"no problem," he said, leaning back in his chair. "so why are you downing your third coffee of the day?," he began.

y/n's eyes widened. "you kept count?"

he smirked. "yeah. you seem to be quite flustered today."

"oh!" y/n's cheeks flushed again. "it's just... i need the caffeine to keep up with you, mr. button," she countered, a playful edge to her voice.

jenson's heart did a little skip. "actually," he admitted, leaning forward, "it's you who keeps up with me. you're amazing at your job, y/n."

a genuine smile bloomed on her face. "thank you, jenson. that means a lot."

the room fell silent for a moment, a comfortable quiet settling between them. jenson took a deep breath. "y/n," he started, his voice low, "there's something I've been wanting to tell you..."

oh, but love grows where my rosemary goes

the office door burst open, shattering the moment. jenson's publicist, richard, barreled in, phone pressed to his ear. "jenson, urgent interview request! need you on set in fifteen!"

jenson groaned. "alright, alright, richard," he sighed, his eyes locking with y/n's for a fleeting second. "we'll continue this conversation later, alright?"

y/n nodded, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. "later," she replied, a small smile playing on her lips.

as jenson followed richard out, the half-confession hanging in the air, he couldn't help but think – maybe, just maybe, love was about to grow where his assistant was too.

she's really got a magical spell

the press conference crackled with a peculiar tension. jenson, impeccably dressed but internally simmering, fielded questions from a pack of reporters hungry for gossip. it was after a particularly grueling race, and the focus seemed to be less on his performance and more on his personal life, with thinly veiled jabs about his "playboy" image.

one particularly obnoxious reporter, a woman with a permanent smirk plastered on her face, leaned forward, her voice dripping with insinuation. "jenson, rumors have been swirling about your recent 'companionship' with a young model. can you confirm or deny these claims?"

jenson gritted his teeth. he was about to launch into a rehearsed, pr-approved response when a voice, clear and unwavering, cut through the cacophony.

"excuse me," y/n said, her voice surprisingly firm as she stepped forward from the corner where she'd been quietly taking notes. "mr. button's private life is exactly that – private. perhaps we could focus on the actual race, where he displayed exceptional skill and…" she trailed off, a glint of defiance in her eyes, "...strategic brilliance."

that i love her endlessly

the room went silent, the reporters momentarily stunned. jenson's heart thudded against his ribs, a mixture of surprise and admiration washing over him. he'd never seen y/n like this – a tiny titan, standing up for him in a room full of sharks.

y/n continued, her voice gaining confidence. "mr. button's talent and dedication speak for themselves. let's talk about the record-breaking lap time he achieved in the third quarter, or the…"

the reporters, caught off guard by this unexpected turn of events, started peppering her with questions about the race. y/n, much to jenson's amusement, expertly fielded them all, her knowledge of the sport as impressive as her poise.

as the press conference ended, the reporters shuffled out, muttering amongst themselves. jenson turned to y/n, speechless.

"y/n, that was…" he began, searching for the right words.

there's something about her hand holding mine

"just doing my job," she said, a hint of a blush creeping up her cheeks. "those questions were ridiculous."

jenson shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "you were incredible. you saved the day, again."

y/n looked down shyly. "i just didn't want them to disrespect you."

jenson reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "you never do," he murmured, his voice low. "you're an angel, y/n. you know that, right?"

nobody knows like me

y/n's eyes widened, surprise flickering across her face. jenson felt a surge of heat rise in his cheeks. maybe, just maybe, he'd let his feelings slip a little too much. but as he met her gaze, a hint of something new shimmering in her eyes, he couldn't help but hope that his not-so-subtle confession wasn't entirely lost in the haze.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

jenson u sweetheart<3

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!

leave a like! leave a note!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[winwintea]

heart to heart - zhong chenle

PAIRING ▸ art dealer!zhong chenle x fem!reader (ft. huang renjun)

GENRES ▸ fluff, romance, y/n discovers she has the ability to read chenle's mind, chenle lowkey jealous for a bit, painter renjun agenda, little bit of harassment but y/n is a badass

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY DEAREST WIFE DAI DAI <33 @galacticskz @galacticseonghwa go check out her fics trust. i grinded this in 12 hours are you proud of me. I HOPE YOU ENJOY

WORD COUNT ▸ 3.7K (not proofread)

One night, I looked up at the stars, and I made a wish on them—a wish about my beloved Chenle.

The next morning, I woke up slowly, yawning and blinking as the world came into focus. It took me a moment to realize I was wrapped in someone's warm arms, my face buried in their warm chest. 

Oh, that's right... you were helping Chenle with his work last night, and then you fell asleep.

“Y/N? You awake?"

"Mmm... morning, Chenle." There was something so perfect about waking up in the arms of the man I loved, and having his voice be the first thing I heard. I lifted my head, smiling up at him, and our lips came together in a soft kiss that woke me up better than anything else could. I sighed softly as our lips parted again, my eyes still half-closed.

'You're adorable as ever this morning.'

"What?!"

"Hey, why are you shrieking in my ear?"

"Because you normally never say things like that to me!"

"Huh? I didn't say anything, let alone anything worth shrieking over." Were you imagining things? I swear that was his voice, saying I look adorable! 

Chenle had such a sharp tongue that hearing his voice say something that sweet had left my thoughts pinging and my heart racing. But then why would he immediately say he didn't say anything? And he looked suspicious and confused, not embarrassed or bashful. "Sorry... I guess I'm still half-asleep."

"Get it together, 宝子." Chenle chuckled softly, tousling my hair before letting me go and climbing out of bed, and I watched him bemusedly. 

There's no way Chenle would ever say something like that so casually. You must have been half-asleep and dreamed the whole thing.

I was still thinking about what had happened that morning as I carried the freshly-cooked pancakes to the dining room. "Here you go."

"Thanks." As I handed Chenle the bottle of syrup, my fingers brushed against his.

'These smell so good... I could easily use a whole bottle of syrup on them.'

"That's WAY too much!" I rolled my eyes at Chenle, but a moment later I realized the room was eerily silent, and everyone was staring at me.

Haechan looked at you confused, "...What's the matter, Y/N? It's not like you to just burst out with something like that."

"Huh? But Chenle was going to put a whole bottle of syrup on his pancakes."

Chenle looked at you with a guilty look, “...I haven't put anything on them yet." There wasn't so much as a single drop of syrup on Chenle’s pancakes yet, and he was staring very oddly at me.

"Um—well-just try not to use too much, okay!" I couldn't stand being subjected to that stare any longer, and I fled back into the kitchen.

—

It happened when we kissed this morning, and later when I handed Chenle the syrup. The voice I heard was his, but... different. I was thinking hard as I went about my morning chores, but in the end there only seemed to be one answer that explained things.

Somehow, I can read minds all of a sudden…? But I have to be touching them to hear what they're thinking. At least, based on what happened this morning. It was more like something out of a book or a movie than real life, and I felt like I had to test it to be absolutely sure.

I entered Renjun’s room to see if Chenle had come by to collect some of his paintings. "Hmm? Is something the matter, Y/N?" Renjun greeted me with a smile.

"Have you seen Chenle? I can't find him anywhere, so I thought maybe he'd be here, but..."

"He hasn't come by yet today."

I desperately wanted to test my theory by touching Chenle again, but he wasn't in any of the places I'd expected him to be.

Well, maybe you could test your theory on Renjun, instead? "Renjun, do you mind if we shake hands?"

"Hmm? Well, I don't mind, if that's what you want."

Renjun held out his hand without hesitation, his smile guileless, and I reached out and gripped it firmly.

Well, I can't hear anything, but- "Renjun... what are you thinking about right now?"

"Well, I was wondering why you wanted to shake my hand all of a sudden, and I was thinking how soft and small your hands are."

"Oh, right." His smile was that of a gentle angel, and I suddenly felt embarrassed and silly. I guess I really was just imagining things after all…

I stared down at our linked hands, still mulling it over, when suddenly a familiar voice spoke right in my ear. “..What are you two doing?"

"Chenle!"

"Hello, Chenle! Y/N and I are just shaking hands."

"That's right! We just felt like shaking hands!" I realized Chenle was staring down at our linked hands, and I quickly let go of Renjun, dropping my hand to my side. Great, now Chenle’s going to think I'm a total weirdo.

"I have no idea why you want to shake hands, but... try not to interrupt Renjun too much, 宝子." Chenle reached out to ruffle my hair lightly, the gesture as familiar as ever.

'It looked more like you were holding hands, and the ambiance was far too intimate for my liking. Don't tell me—‘

Chenle’s voice seemed to speak directly inside my mind, but l'd never heard him sound so unsure before. I'm not imagining things! That was definitely your voice, Chenle! Does that mean his is the only mind I can read?

I caught my breath, looking up at him, and his dark brown eyes met mine directly, his hand still resting lightly in my hair.

'I won't give you up to anyone, Y/N... not even Renjun.'

Wait, wait, hold up— Chenle, are you jealous?! My heart leapt with an odd sense of exhilaration to know that Chenle cared about me that much. But a moment later I felt suddenly guilty for making him worry like that, and I reached out, grabbing hold of his hands. "Chenle... you're the only man I love."

"Where did that come from?!"

"I just wanted to tell you, that's all!"

I was staring right up at him, and so l saw the faint flush that crept across his cheeks. I tried to think of what to say, and then I realized Chenle had gone unusually quiet. Chenle and Renjun were both staring at me, but I couldn't stop giggling at how honest and earnest Chenle’s inner voice was.

—

"We have two stops today. Let's go, 宝子."

"Okay!" Chenle had sold several of Renjun’s paintings, and we were in town to deliver them to the buyers. 

I still can't believe I can read his mind, just by touching him. I mean, I thought it would be nice if I could, but... now that I can do it, it feels kind of like I'm invading his privacy. I glanced over at him as he walked by my side, but then I found myself staring at my feet, my step slowing. I'll just have to be careful not to touch him unless I have to. But... what if it never goes away? What am I going to—

"Y/N!!" Chenle grabbed me, pulling me towards him, just as a car went whizzing past right where l'd been standing. "What are you doing? Be more careful!"

“..Sorry."

'That was really dangerous. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt.'

'And you're acting oddly today. You had your head in the clouds earlier, too. I'd better keep a closer eye on you.'

His arms were warm around me, and I could clearly hear the worry in his inner voice, and suddenly I couldn't stop grinning. Ahh, I was just telling myself not to invade his privacy, and yet... knowing how much he cares makes me so happy.

"What are you smirking about?" Oops! You weren't meant to see that! I reminded myself I shouldn't be listening to Chenle’s thoughts, and I started to slip free of his embrace.

"Nothing-hey!" But then I felt his hand on my head, its warmth reassuring and familiar as he tousled my hair. "C'mon, Chenle, you're gonna make a mess of my hair!"

"Like that any different from how it usually looks."

"Speak for yourself, Bedhead!" He was back to his usual teasing, and I pulled a face at him, but then I saw the way his expression relaxed a little.

'That's better. You're acting more like your usual self.'

Wait, does that mean he did that on purpose? Was he teasing me to provoke a reaction because he was worried about me acting strangely? It was strange to think that his sharp words might be a roundabout expression of his kindness, and I studied his expression. Does that mean all his teasing is just a way to hide how he really feels?

‘I love it when you smile, but I love that pout, too, and those faces you pull at me. They make me want to provoke you more.'

Never mind, I take it back. He just likes messing with me.

'I want to tease you more, and make you pout more, and then I want to kiss that pout away.'

His thoughts took a very sudden turn, his inner voice suddenly sultry as it murmured inside my head, and my heart leapt. "Not here!" 

"...Huh?"

Oh crap. It was only after I'd spoken that I realized I was responding to his thoughts, not his words, and I froze as he stared at me. 

"What's that supposed to mean? Don't tell me—"

Ugh, how do I even start to explain that I can suddenly read his mind? I don't even know how it happened! "Seriously, Chenle, we're getting in people's way here! That's enough teasing!" 

A frown creased his brow as he stared down at me, and it was obvious that he was still suspicious. But I did my best to ignore it as I grabbed him and dragged him off down the street towards our destination.

—

"My, my, Chenle, this latest painting really is quite divine! As you know, I pride myself on my ability to recognize fine art! You must look at this painting I bought just the other day..." This collector regularly bought Renjun’s paintings from Chenle, and his voice was openly admiring as he gazed on his latest piece. But soon he was leading us through his collection, and talking cheerfully as he showed us his latest acquisitions.

"Haha, yes, quite. You have good taste, Sir." Chenle followed after the collector, making all the right sort of responses, and yet he seemed oddly restless.

"Chenle, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, it's just..."

"Chenle, you simply must tell me what you think of this one!" Chenle quickly turned his attention back to the collector, and I cursed the man silently for his bad timing.

Was something bothering you, Chenle? Okay, listen, I really am sorry about this, but—

I stepped a little closer to Chenle, placing my hand on his arm in what I hoped seemed like a casual gesture.

'This isn't good.'

'He's clearly nowhere near finished, but if he goes on much longer, we'll be late.'

I let the collector talk to Chenle for a moment, so that he wouldn't realize I'd read his thoughts again, and then leaned close. "Chenle, I just realized... are we meant to be delivering the next painting soon?"

"Yeah, we are. If we don't leave soon, we'll be late, but..."

'This guy loves the sound of his own voice. But he's a good patron-and he supports new talent. I don't want to do wrong by him.'

Now, I get it. Not that I'm surprised that he cared about his customers—it's so like him. But I wish he’d rely on me a little more, even for little stuff like this.

Chenle had a tendency to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, whether those around him wanted him to or not. He'd started opening up to me more since we'd become a couple, and it meant a lot to me each time he did. But I still felt like he took too much on to avoid relying too heavily on me. Especially when I wanted him to rely on me. "How about I go deliver the painting for you? You don't really need me here right now."

‘I'm not sure I should be sending you off on your own like that.'

I smiled up at Chenle, delighted that this strange power had allowed me to see new sides of him l'd never known existed. "Don't worry, I'll be fine! Stay here and keep the marquis company, okay? I mean, it's an important part of your job too, right?"

"..Fine. If you could, l'd appreciate it. I'll be there as soon as I can." He reluctantly handed over Renjun’s other painting, but I gave him a confident smile as I turned to leave.

—

I hurried through the busy streets of town and made it to the next appointment on time, but it was all downhill from there.

"I'm sorry, but... what do you mean, you no longer need the painting?"

"A painting by an artist not even associated with L'Académie des Beaux-Arts does not deserve to be displayed in our fine home. At least, that's what Mother said. And I find myself in agreement with her."

Paintings adorned the walls around us, none of them as good as Renjun’s, and I frowned at the young man's careless words. "But... I thought you attended his solo exhibition, and that you fell in love with this painting on the spot?"

"I suppose I thought it curious, and novel. But everything has a 'status' it can't rise above... people and objects both." The young man glanced at the canvas I carried, still concealed carefully in cloth to protect it, and gave a scornful snort.

I bit my lip as I hugged the canvas tighter, trying to stop myself from saying the first angry thing that came to mind. I can't believe that he’d actually dare to make a mockery of Renjun and Chenle like this! "I think it's a mistake to decide the value of a painting solely by whether its artist has been approved by L'Académie or not." My voice was tight, but I managed to keep my words mostly polite, and the young man gave me an appraising look.

"How about this, then? Tonight, you can tell me your thoughts on fine art... in my bedroom.

And if you manage to persuade me, I'll buy the painting.” 

Are you kidding me?! I was so horrified and angered by the man's sudden power play that I froze, unable to figure out how to react without exploding. "Well, what do you think?" He must have seen the fury in my eyes, and yet his expression was smug as he reached towards me

Chenle—this idiot would never dare do this to you, would he? How do I get out of this without punching anyone?! How would YOU get out of it? I know you, Chenle. No matter how ridiculous something was, you'd face it undaunted.

"...Fine."

"In that case—" The young nobleman smirked, but before his hand could actually touch me, I slapped it away.

"If you don't want to buy the painting, that's fine. This painting deserves better than being sullied by your lewd suggestions. It should go to someone who truly appreciates its beauty, and all the love and effort the artist put into painting it." I stood straight and proud as I met the man's gaze, and his expression stiffened at once, anger flaring in his eyes.

"I was prepared to do you a favor! How dare you mock me like that! I'll make you sorry you ever said that, you and that worthless painting both!" There was real anger in his voice, the anger of man not used to anyone ever crossing him, and I took a quick, wary step back.

"You're the one who's worthless, if that's how you think." I glanced back and saw Chenle standing just inside the doorway, a confident, brazen smile on his face.

"You-you're the dealer who arranged that solo exhibition, aren't you? You're not even from my status, yet you dare call ME worthless?" Um. I’m pretty sure Chenle’s family was worth triple your fortune, but Chenle firmly stood there. 

"Yeah, I do. You use your power to blackmail women. You sneer at artists, without even trying to appreciate art itself. There's no way l'd ever sell art to someone as worthless as you."

"You filthy common-blood! How dare you speak to me like that!" The man's voice grew louder with each word, his face bright red, but Chenle ignored him as he gazed around the room.

"And since l'm such a kind man, I feel obliged to tell you that 90% of the paintings in this room are counterfeit."

"What?! There's no way that's true—" The man stumbled back a step, looking stunned and flustered, and Chenle gave him one last disinterested glance. Then he reached out and took the canvas I was carrying, cradling it carefully in his arms.

"Let's go, Y/N." Chenle turned and strode out of the room, and I hurried after him. 

I thought he'd say something once we were outside, but he was silent as we walked down the street side by side. But it feels like he really wants to say something... so I'm just going to wait him out. 

He veered off into a deserted alleyway, and as soon as I followed him, he turned and caught my hand, pulling me closer. "Chenle? What is it?"

"Y/N... I'm sorry."

Chenle’s warmth enfolded me as he wrapped me in a tight embrace. "I sent you there alone, even though I knew he'd probably only gone to the exhibition to sneer at us 'peasants'. It's my fault you went through that. I should have been more careful, but I prioritized the collector’s feelings over your safety."

'What might that snobby 鸭蛋 have done to you, if I hadn't arrived when I did?' 

'Dammit. I'm a complete and utter fool, putting the woman I love in danger like that.'

His spoken voice was calm and earnest, but his inner voice was thick with anger-anger aimed at himself. He hugged me tighter against him, as if responding to the intensity of his own feelings. Oh, Chenle- he hides it so well that I didn't realize just how strongly he cared for me. But I can't stand the idea of him blaming himself for what happened. 

He patted my back gently, perhaps reassuring himself as much as me, and I lifted my head, looking up at him. His expression was calm, almost like a mask, but as I cupped his cheeks with my hands, I saw emotions trembling in his eyes. "It's okay, Chenle. It's not your fault. And I'm glad to know you were so worried about me." 

"That's not something to be glad about."

"Heh, I guess you're right." But it wasn't just this incident—it was the way he'd been taking care of me and watching out for me the entire day. But it didn't start today. He’s always been like this, hasn’t he? I just didn't realize it until I could read his mind. He teases me and he’s gruff and rude, but it's all bluster to cover up how kind he is, and how much he loves me. "I love you, Chenle. I love you with all my heart."

His eyes widened just slightly at my words, and then a sudden smile lit up his face, the worry and anger fading away. "With all your heart, huh? Does that mean your heart is mine?"

"I hadn't thought about it like that, but I guess it does."

"Good. Now show me you mean it." His smile turned into a smirk as he caught my chin, tilting my face up towards him. A moment later his lips pressed against mine in a sudden kiss, and I sighed softly with pleasure. "And if your heart's mine, I guess you should know that my heart's yours, too."

'It'll always be yours, and yours alone.'

Chenle-this time his spoken words and his thoughts are the same. It made me realize just how much he meant it, and I beamed up at him, wrapping my arms around him.

"You're smirking again. You're a whirlwind of moods today. First you're gloomy, then you're laughing, then next thing I know you're reading my mind, and—"

"What?!" Chenle spoke the words casually, yet my heart lurched uneasily in my chest.

"It was a random guess, but I'm right, aren't l? Even the things you said back there sounded like you were channeling me. When you told that noble brat where to shove it."

"Honestly, I was so mad that he was mocking Renjun’s painting, and when I thought about what you'd do, the words just came." I wasn't actually reading his mind then!

"You were trying to protect Renjun’s painting... and the value of the arts industry as a whole. Thanks, Y/N. You realize that makes you a fully-fledged art dealer, right?" His smile was gentle as he reached down and tousled my hair, and instead of ducking away from his hand, I grinned up at him. You have no idea how happy that makes me. But the thing that made me happiest was realizing that I hadn't needed to use my strange power to understand Chenle in that moment. We were close enough now that I understood the man he was, and the things that mattered to him. 

Hang on-he’s touching me, but I can't hear his thoughts anymore. As his hand fell away from my hair, I reached out and grabbed hold of it, but no thoughts flowed into my mind. Maybe I don't need it anymore, now that we're even closer than we were before? The idea made me happy, and I smiled to myself as I gazed down at our linked hands.

But when I looked up at Chenle again, he was studying me, his expression dubious. "Listen, Y/N... you can't really read my mind, right?" 

"Haha! Are you sure?" 

I grinned mischievously up at him as I twined our fingers together and pulled him closer for one more kiss...

perm taglist: @lyvhie

[psychoticallykind]

Already Perfect

"Try" - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 576 words

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Regulus forced a smile as another person came up to talk to him. He didn't know her name, or why she thought that he, of all people, would be a good conversationalist.

He wasn't. And he didn't want to be here. But he was trying to be a good boyfriend.

So even though he had a headache, and all he wanted to do was lay down with his human-space-heater boyfriend and listen to the latest things he'd learned about his newest hyper fixation, he was here. At a party.

A very loud, crowded party.

"Having fun?"

Regulus tried to reinforce his smile as he turned to his boyfriend. "Yeah."

James's own smile faltered a bit as he took in Regulus's expression. "Are you sure?" He brought one hand up to Regulus's forehead and rubbed gentle circles on his temple. "Do you have a headache?"

And this was the problem.

James was the perfect boyfriend. He never pushed Regulus to do things he didn't want to. He never complained about the sheer level of anti-socialness he was capable of. And he was the most attentive, caring person Regulus had ever met.

"I do, but it's not bad," Regulus told him. He nodded at the girl. "We were just talking."

James glanced at her with a friendly smile. "That's great." He was still making the small, soothing circles on Regulus's temple, and Regulus was secretly grateful. "We can go if you want. I know you had a long day already."

Ugh.

Regulus forced himself to shrug. "I'm good here. I want you to have fun."

James met his eyes, and Regulus could read the concern. He tried to reinforce his smile, and it actually did come a little easier when he was looking at James.

"Alright," James finally said. "But you'll tell me if you want to leave, right?"

"Yeah," Regulus lied. "Of course."

James pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Good." Then he moved behind Regulus, wrapping his arms securely around his waist.

"What are you doing?" Regulus asked, leaning into him.

"Having fun," James replied. "Are you?"

"I told you I was." It was a lie. And he was not going to be able to keep it up if James didn't go somewhere else.

Regulus was a very good liar when James wasn't involved.

"Mmm."

They swayed back and forth. And while everything was a bit more tolerable with James holding him, Regulus was still exhausted, and his head still hurt. And he really did want to leave, but he knew James loved these things.

"I'm actually kind of tired," James said. He kept swaying them gently back and forth. "Do you think we could leave soon?"

Regulus groaned, turning around in James's arms and looking up at him. "You're not tired."

"Maybe not," James agreed, giving him a soft smile. "But you are. I can tell."

"Ugh." Regulus pressed forward, burying himself in James' chest. "So much for being good."

"Being good?" James asked.

Regulus hummed in pleasure as fingers massaged through his hair. "Yeah. You know, a good boyfriend. Doing stuff you like."

He felt more than heard James' laugh. "You are a good boyfriend."

"No." Regulus leaned back just enough to meet his eyes. "I'm not. I was trying to be, but you had to come and be all perceptive."

"Love," James was grinning, all humor and adoration. "You don't have to try to be anything." He kissed Regulus's forehead. "You're already perfect."

[heauxvibez]

Roman Reigns Warning: Soft smut (18+)

Imagination

Girl come through,

and let's do

what we do in your imagination...

Renee and Roman sat in his home theatre binge watching Law and Order: SVU. It was their favorite show to watch together when they had the time.

With how hectic Roman's schedule was, she was surprised that he was able to keep his promise to her after all these years of him wrestling. Early on he had promised her that he would always make time for her even after his career took off. They both wanted to preserve their friendship as best as they could even through the tough times of adulting.

She snuggled deeply into her seat while clutching the blanket that Roman kept at his place for her. He, on the other hand, had his seat reclined with one hand embedded in his sweats and the other tugging at his beard hair. He had a horrible habit of doing that when he was focused.

Renee glanced away from the screen to look his way for just a moment to take in his features. He had changed so much over the years. He had looked the same, yet he didn't. But nonetheless he had aged like fine wine. How? Who knows. But his skin had grew darker over time, jaw line more structured, teeth done and his beard...God his beard. She loved it. It was full, thick and had hints of gray hair. In her opinion, the only thing it needed was to be covered in her juices.

Of course, just like any ole Netflix movie or Wattpad story, Renee had found herself becoming more and more attracted to him over the years. The feelings literally consumed her on a day to day basis. She couldn't stop thinking about him, dreaming about him and often fantasized what he was like in bed.

At this point she was a professional at day dreaming. Scenario after scenario, she constantly pictured herself in his arms.

The thought of being intimate with him sent shivers down her spine. Just imagining his breath against her skin, lips grazing her neck and his eyes..damn those eyes, she often imagined him forcing her to look into them while they made love in front of the mirror in his bedroom.

"Look at me, baby girl.", she shook her head 'no' as he thrusted in and out of her from the back. Her ass slapped against his skin as he pushed deeper..and deeper..and deeper.

His hand gripped her throat and forced her head up.

"You're saying no like you got an option. Look at daddy.." her eyes shifted up, Roman bit down on his bottom lip at the sight.

"Oh God.." she widened her eyes, the words accidently slipped out of her mouth.

"What happened?" Roman looked over at her, fingers still playing with his beard. She looked at him and the look he was giving her was enough to make her want to rid herself of every single piece of clothing that clung to her body. He was looking at her with those same eyes that she remembered from her fantasies.

"I just..I was just thinking about an embarrassing moment I experienced at work a few days ago is all.."

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, "Mmm, sure.." he teased.

Men aren't the brightest people in the world, but Roman definitely wasn't oblivious to the fact that his friend was attracted to him. He never failed to notice the numerous amounts of times she looked at him and the way she looked at him. He'd been teasing her a lot lately and surprisingly she hadn't noticed that he was attracted to her as well. He gave plenty of hints, became a little touchier, called her new nicknames such as baby girl, beautiful, love and they always flew over her head. If he hadn't already had a clue that she'd liked him, he'd probably feel rejected.

They stared each other down a bit longer, his hand moved from his beard and he reached it out in her direction.

"What?" she questioned.

"C'mere," his eyes softened and he licked his lips. She was a bit frozen in place. Is she losing her mind or is he really looking at her like this. The way she'd only dream of him looking at her.

She looked in his eyes, at his lips and back to his eyes.

"Come," his voiced deepened a bit, which she didn't think was possible. She rid herself of the blanket and hesitated.

"Like..sit on your lap?" she questions, now her eyebrow was raised. He bit down on his bottom lip and nodded.

She must be deep in a daydream right now because this isn't real. She finally met his reach, grabbed onto his hand and climbed over the custom theatre seat. She straddled him, legs at either side of his hips. He sighed in pleasure as she sat on top of his covered member. She felt it as well and did her best not to lose it. Her moans were begging to be released from her throat.

"You want to tell me about that embarrassing moment that made the words 'Oh God' leave those pretty lips?" he asked as he looked up at her. His hand returned to his beard while the other held tightly onto her waist.

Her hands rested on his chest. It was nice and firm. His build has definitely changed in the best of ways since he had started wrestling. He looked so edible, it was ridiculous.

"No not really, it's an embarrassing moment for a reason bud." she stated with a sarcastic smile while softly patting his chest. He thrusted up slightly, the lump under his black sweats rubbed against her core which made a soft moan escape her lips.

"You want to tell the truth?" he asked, now both hands rested on her hips. She shivered and her stomach was now consumed with butterflies. What was he doing to her?

She was now biting her lip and looking down at him with a look he thought was irresistible. His stomach was also fluttering as the beautiful woman looked down at him.

Her pretty black curls fell perfectly on her forehead. She often talked about how her 4c hair drove her mad but he loved it. He loved everything about her, her hair, her beautiful black skin, her shape, everything. She could do no wrong and in this moment, he was ready to show her how beautiful she really was to him.

"Maybe I can make whatever you were thinking about come true.." he said softly. His hand slowly began traveling from her hip, up her stomach, over her breast and found it's way around her neck. He began thrusting against her core slowly and his dark eyes looked into her soul while doing so.

Her breath became short and her hands were no longer on his chest but now grasping his tatted arm that had a nice hold on her throat.

"You just have to let me know what you were daydreaming about. I can make it come true.." she softly moaned at his words.

"Was it something like this? Is this what you were thinking about baby?" He questioned. He knew he was making the woman weak, but he wanted to hear from her mouth what she wanted. He wanted the confirmation from her lips. The lips that he wanted against every inch of him.

She shook her head 'no'. He licked his lips, smirking at the fact that she was still holding back. He fully sat up and wrapped his arms around her, his hands were now on her back. His beautiful hair draped over his shoulders. It wasn't wet like he usually had it for his matches, but dry, soft and flowing beautifully.

He snaked his arms under her shirt. Her warm skin against his cold hands made her breath hitch in her throat. He dipped his head down and into the crook of her neck. He placed soft gentle kisses against her pretty soft skin. She smelt so good, like vanilla and peony; he couldn't help but moan. She moaned back in response. His lips felt like heaven.

Her pussy throbbed immensely; she swears he could feel it. She just knew her heart was no longer in her chest and now in her panties.

"Fuck." she whispered; he continued showering her in his kisses. He worked his way up to her ear. Now it was his turn to whisper.

"Tell me what we do in your imagination.." she caved, she couldn't take it anymore.

"You were fucking me while we looked at each other in the mirror-" the hairs stood up from her skin as Roman's hand slowly slid down her back.

"Mhm, what else.." he whispered before his tongue traced the outer of her ear.

"Joe, please" She begged he pulled away from her ear and looked at her through hooded lids.

"Keep. Talking." he spoke sternly.

"You were giving me back shots, you told me to look at you and I didn't. So you wrapped your hand around my throat and made me look at you while...shit..while you fucked me." she uttered in almost agony. She had always imagined what it was like to be intimate with him and the thought always made her knees weak. But to actually experience his hands, his breath, his lips all over her..it was a whole other experience.

Roman's lips curved into a devious yet sexy smile. He loved seeing this side of her. She didn't know that she was driving him crazy just as much.

He licked his lips for what seemed like the millionth time and tilted his head slightly.

She felt her cheeks get hot and quickly became embarrassed. She looked down from his gaze and took a deep breath.

"That's what I was daydreaming about, nosey. Are you satisfied?" she giggled softly hitting him.

That devious smirked still accompanied his soft lips. He finally got want he wanted and was very satisfied matter of fact.

He grabs the wrist that she swatted him with and placed it behind her back. This caught her by surprise. With his other hand he lifted her chin and forced her to look at him.

"Very," he whispered huskily. He wasn't showing it, but he wanted her so bad. Just her looking at him was enough to make him cum. He needed to take her upstairs to the room not now but right now.

"Just know that tonight, every single time you cum I want my hand wrapped around that pretty little throat of yours and I will demand eye contact if you want to nut. We're going to make sure we do what we do in your imagination."

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Hi ya'll! This is my first time writing Roman. I hope ya'll like it!

Just gonna tag my favorite writers below!

@harmshake @visionarymode @thesamoanqueen @southerngirl41

[thatssonanii]

Chapter Thirteen

A/N: The highly requested and anticipated chapter! Yall I been working on this chapter for soooooo long, I just couldn't get it to flow but I finally got it! Pay attention when you're reading😌 ⭐LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG & SHARE⭐ Enjoy!

Warnings: Cussing, light smut, 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

DO NOT REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE AND CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN!

Masterlist

Chapter Twelve

Flashback #2

Dating again was something Hassan never thought he'd do but now that he was, he realized he was lying to himself when he would say that he was okay without it. Deep down he was a romantic, a lover and needed to give that to someone special. The deterioration of his marriage hurt more than he'd vocalized, living on the other side of the country away from his daughter hurt even more but he knew when the end came there was no comma. Nadine once the apple of his eye was now rotten but he would always love her for giving him his babygirl. His babygirl being the reason for everything he did since her birth which funnily included dating again. He wanted to show her that moving on and away from the things Nadine had done was possible. Healing is what he chose for him and his daughter which is why he was preparing himself for another date with Tamara. 

They, mostly him, had been dancing around what they obviously were but he planned to change that. Having spent most of the day getting a few gifts, her favorite flowers and making sure his house was up to par, Hassan was going to lock them down. 

Standing in his kitchen, he cut zucchini to roast when his phone rang interrupting him and his music. He glanced over to see it was Nadine facetiming him. After not hearing from her for a couple of weeks, he wasn't exactly excited to hear from her but answered it nonetheless. 

Being met with silence made him roll his eyes knowing what she wanted. “I'm cooking, Nadine. I can't look at the phone.”

“Mmm okay,” she conceded. “What are you cooking?”

“Lamb shoulder, mashed potatoes and zucchini.”

She hummed in surprise. “Oooh, I should've flown in just for dinner. Your parents coming over or your sister and her husband?”

He glanced at the phone, seeing her expectant face. “What's up, Nadine? You wanted something, I can tell.”

“You know me so well after all this time,” she laughed softly. 

“That's what happens when you're with someone for 20 years, married for 14. I'm listening, I don't have a lot of time.”

There was a brief pause on her end which he allowed. A sigh escaped her before she spoke. 

“Gabi came here not too long ago, unannounced, and she said something to me that I wanted to check with you about.”

“Don't say unannounced like that's not still my house and like you don't and haven't done your share of pop ups at her house.” He continued cutting. “What did you wanna check with me about?”

“She said that you're seeing someone and it's … it's serious. But I know you would've told me if you were.”

Stopping what he was doing, Hassan went to stand in front of his phone that sat propped up on the counter. He folded his arms across his chest, staring at her. 

“We're not married anymore and we're not friends so I'm not sure why you would think that I would tell you what I'm doing.”

He could tell that she was taken aback by his words but he had to let it be known. 

“Yes, we're not married but I'd like to think that we were friends, San.” She explained softly. “So you are seeing someone seriously then?”

“I am.” He answered. His voice was as cool and calm as always. 

The panic in her eyes almost made him feel bad but that went away quickly. He watched her get up from her seat and pace for a moment before coming to stand in frame with her hands on her hips. 

“I can't believe you would do this, Hassan.”

“Do what? Move on with my life?” He asked, stroking his beard. “We've been divorced for over ten years now, Nadine. I honestly should've done it sooner.”

Even though she wasn't as close to the phone, he could still see the tears that fell from her eyes. They were real and he knew it but he couldn't bring himself to care. 

“Why? I thought,” she mumbled in distress.

“You thought what?”

“I thought … we were still in this. Do you not love me, Hassan? I was your wife.” She cried. 

He stared at her with a brow raised. “Is that really what you thought? Nadine, I will always love you for giving me Moriah but I don't love you in that way that you want me to anymore. And I haven't for a long time.”

“What? How can you say that after everything?” She asked in a whisper. 

“After everything how can you think that I would wanna be with you again? Disregard what you did to me,” he responded. “Think about the way you’ve tortured our daughter all these years. I could never love someone that's done the things you've done to someone that came from you, Nadine.”

Her tears at this point were streaming down her face, she didn't bother to wipe them. Her heart was breaking, crumbling piece by piece. 

“I did what I needed to protect Moriah. I was helping her and you hate me for it. What was I supposed to do?”

“You weren't protecting or helping her, Nadine. You were torturing her because you were mad at me.” He retorted, ignoring her tears. “Even though it's damning, let's sit aside the abortion, let's sit aside you making her babysit and working in that daycare and the other things. The camp you sent her to, let's talk about that.”

Nadine stopped her loud sobbing and brought her hands down from her face to stare at him. Shock was displayed all over her making Hassan chuckle. 

“How did you know? Who told you?”

“Well let's see,” he paused, “Before Rye told me, your mother called me when she was on the way to pick Rye up after Kami told her. I've known for years, Nadine. Do you know what they did to her there? Of course you do, that's why you sent her there.”

She shook her head repeatedly. “Moriah needed help! She was going to be another statistic, San! The sneaking out, having sex with whoever, that baby … she was out of control!”

“Don't bring up my grandchild. She was not out of control and you know it,” he spat. “She snuck out with Zilla a few times, she had sex with only Zilla. You're trying to spin it into something it wasn’t. Her grades were good, she was still in her activities and never got in trouble.”

“You weren't there! You don't know!”

“I know everything about my daughter, Nadine. It's your fault that I wasn't there no matter how much you try to make me the bad guy.”

“You picked that job over me and our daughter. That's why you weren't there.”

“That's why? It wasn't because I was taking a pay cut for the first two years? It wasn't because you didn't want us to bring Moriah with us to Georgia, that you wanted to leave her with your parents because she was too much of a hassle? It wasn't because you didn't wanna leave the man you were fucking? You sure it wasn’t any of those reasons, Nadine?”

“Hassan, those first few things may be true but I never cheated on you! Never!”

He gave her a relaxed smile. “You sure? I've known for years. You think I don't know the real reason you all of a sudden didn't like Zilla and his family?”

“I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't like them because they were steering you and Moriah wrong.”

“That's not it, sweetheart,” he said calmly. “You didn't like them, Eddie specifically, once you found out the man you were fucking was his cousin and you knew he would tell me so you wanted to get us away from them. That's why. Isn't that right?”

“I'm not doing this with you. He lied to you. I can't believe you believed him over me.”

He shrugged. “You should just be lucky I was nice enough to keep that secret among all the others.”

Done with their conversation, Hassan ended the call and took a deep breath. The secrets he held onto for the sake of her and to some extent Moriah were feeling heavier than usual. It felt good to get two off his mind. He hadn't breathed a word of her infidelity since Eddie had told him and he met the man. Initially, the revelation damn near broke him down but now he felt relieved. He took a moment to get himself together then went back to cooking. Although his conversation with Nadine was unexpected and deeper than he anticipated, he was glad it happened because it solidified his feelings of wanting to make his and Tamara's relationship solid and defined. 

“It's been far too long since I've seen this lovely face.” Trenice exclaimed seeing Leata. She abandoned her shopping cart to go hug the other woman in the middle of the aisle. “How are you, sweetie?”

“I'm … I'm doing okay. How are you, Mrs. Parker?”

Trenice hit her arm playfully, “Girl, I'm good but we are family. Trenice will always do. And who is this little beauty?”

Leata smiled down at Sienna briefly. “My grandbaby Sienna. This is Auntie Rye's Umi, SiSi. Tell her hi.”

Sienna waved excitedly. “Hey, Auntie Rye's Umi!”

The older women laughed at her greeting. Trenice leaned towards the shopping cart to hug the little girl, placing a kiss on top of her head. 

“You can call me Umi, too, sweetie.” Trenice winked at her before turning back to Leata. “Back to you, I heard that hesitation. Since I'm sure everything is okay with my two grandbabies, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it's my oldest daughter. Am I right?”

She was hesitant to confirm. They always had a good relationship but Nadine was still her daughter at the end of the day. 

“It's okay, you can tell me. You've known me long enough to know it won't offend me.” Trenice assured noticing her hesitant pause. 

“It's her. I love Moriah like she's my own flesh and blood and I don't understand. The things she's done are just horrible. The more I find out, the more disgusted I get.”

Trenice moved to rub her back, noticing the tears pooling in her eyes. “Trust me, I understand. Nadine is my flesh and blood but very often I wonder where she gets this from. She wasn't always like that and I know you know that.”

“She was one of my best friends and I just don't know who she is now and haven't for awhile.” She paused to dab at her eyes. “And then I feel awful because I was around Rye and couldn't tell that something more than I already knew was going on.”

“Listen to me,” Trenice demanded softly, still rubbing her back, “I knew almost everything and there still wasn't much I could do so I understand your feelings. Nadine knew there wasn't much we could do especially since Moriah rarely reached out.”

“Which pisses me off even more because despite what Nadine did to her, Moriah still protected her.”

Sienna watched them noticing the body language change. “Nana, you sad? What's wrong?”

Leata quickly shook her head, “I'm not sad, baby. I'm happy cause I haven't seen you and Auntie's Umi in a while.”

“Oooh okay, Nana. But still don't cry. Kay?” 

“We should talk more about this in private. I'll be in town for the next two weeks helping Kami house hunt. Call me and we'll set something up.”

“Yes ma'am,” Leata answered, leaning to hug her. 

“I mean it. If you don't call me, I'm gonna call you.” She smiled then kissed Sienna's head. “I'll see you later, sweetie.”

With the thought weighing heavily on him, Bronco went looking for Gia. The way she was shamelessly throwing herself at his friend wasn't sitting right with him and he knew it made not only Moriah uncomfortable but Zilla as well. He searched backstage until he found her. 

“Of course she watching his match,” he mumbled, going to stand beside her as the monitors. He glanced briefly at her, noticing the small smile on her face. “What's up, Gia?”

“Oh hey, Bronco. Nothing, just watching Zilla. He looks good out there.” She answered not taking her eyes off of the match. “Wrestling wise I mean.”

‘Uhuh. We gotta talk.”

“About?” 

The two of them spoke without moving their attention from the monitors. Gia because she didn't want to take her eyes off of Zilla. Bronco because truth be told, he couldn't stand to look at her too long. 

“Whatever you tryna do with Zilla. He's been more than clear that he's not interested but you keep trying him.”

She smiled. “What are you talking about, Bronco? Him and I are just friends.”

“Barely,” he slid in quickly. “Whatever you're tryna do, just chill.”

“This match really should've been the main event. Don't you think so, Bronco?” She asked, turning to look at him. 

He turned to look back. “Did you hear me?”

“Did you hear me?”

“This not the time for games. Did you hear what I said?”

“I heard you but it sounds like to me one of two things or both are happening.”

He sucked his teeth, snarling at her. “What?”

“Either lil miss Moriah is worried that I can take her spot or you know Zilla wants me and you're trying to play mediator. Hmm so either way whatever you think I'm doing is working.”

“Girl, what the hell? Are you delusional? None of that is true.”

She shrugged, turning back to the match in time to see Zilla get illegally rolled up. “It's okay. I know you liked them together but it's bigger than you. You can't keep them together. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go get ready for my segment.”

Bronco stood dumbfounded as she walked away from him. He thought she would resist a little but accept what he said. Her reaction was puzzling to him but he realized Zilla was in way more trouble than he initially thought. 

“Oh my gosh, San. I am stuffed.” Tamara laughed softly rubbing her full belly. “You been hiding your cooking skills from me.”

Hassan smiled bashfully. “I wouldn't say hiding them, you just always volunteer to cook. Who am I to shut down your wants?”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah well next time we stay in, you're cooking. And if you keep cooking like this, I won't ever leave.”

“Speaking of never leaving,” he paused to sip his wine, “I want this thing we're doing to be permanent. I don't want anybody else.”

Tamara raised a brow leaving onto the table, laughing softly. “This thing? You mean dating?”

“Yes that. What would you say to us making things official?”

No matter how she tried to fight it, a smile spread across her face and warmth spread through her body from the rush of happiness she felt. 

“I would say what took you so long.” She laughed at his playful frown. “But I would like that a lot actually. I know why you were hesitant, I get it but I am not her and you are not the person you were when you were with her.”

“You’re right, you’re right. I got you.”

“And as much as I know you’re going to hate this, I wanna meet Nadine.” 

He stared at Tamara for a moment wrestling with the thought in his mind. The women he’d dated previously had no desire to meet her after hearing about her from him and Moriah and after hearing conversations between the divorced couple. And even if they did have any desire to meet her, Hassan would not have it. Too much of a hassle.

Reaching across the table, Hassan took her hands into his, rubbing them lovingly with his thumbs. The action brought a smile to her face, she also knew there was some form of rejection to follow the gesture. 

“I really don’t see the need for that, T. Moriah isn’t a kid anymore, that would have been the only reason I would put you in that situation.” He explained softly.

“San … I know that you think that you’re protecting me by not allowing me to meet her and I appreciate that,” she squeezed his hands gently, “But you don’t need to do that. She needs to know that this is serious and I’m not going anywhere so she can let up on those unrealistic expectations she has. Give the final nail to the coffin that was your marriage.”

To say he was speechless would be an understatement. The calmness in her voice almost put him at ease, the fire in her eyes though, that told him she meant what she said and she was serious.

“I don’t think that it’s a good idea to put you in the direct line of unnecessary stress,” he chuckled hearing her huff, “Wait there’s a but. But this sounds very important to you and you do make a very good point so I will make it happen.”

Her smile has returned and grown even wider. “Great. When?”

“Soon, beautiful.”

“Aht,” she sassed, pulling her hands from his. “I’ve heard you use that ‘beautiful’ card with Moriah enough to know you’re placating me. Nope. I want an actual date and time.”

He laughed heartily, going to take a sip of his wine. “Alright, alright. How about next weekend?”

“Book the flight now.” She pressed.

“In the middle of dinner?” He asked slyly. Looking at both of their near empty plates, Tamara gives him a pointed look that makes him laugh and pull out his phone. “Alright, alright, Ms. Lady. Doing it now. You prefer early or late flights?”

“Early. Thank you.”

“Of course,” he responded lowly, his focus was on his phone. “Any other demands?”

“Yup, I have one more since you asked.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t tell her that we’re coming.”

Hassan’s eyes slowly looked up from his phone, putting his focus on her. “Don’t tell her?”

“Don’t tell her.” She repeated firmly.

After the show, Zilla and Bronco went to the hospital to check on their girlfriends. They sat in the waiting room until their girlfriends had a moment to talk. The emergency department was much busier at night than they thought.

“Listen before they get done, I gotta tell you something.” Bronco whispered, making Zilla frown.

“What? And why the hell is you whisperin’? Ain’t nobody over here.”

“Cause Toni got some good ass ears, bro. Ion need her to hear this shit and tell Rye.”

“Aight, I guess. What’s up?”

“I went to talk to Gia during your match. And excuse my language but that bitch delusional,” he whispered. “It's like the whole time I was talking she heard what she wanted to hear.”

He frowned at the thought. “What she say?”

“She said that either Rye knew she could take you or you want her and either way, what she was doing was working.”

“The hell? What you say to her to make her say that?” Zilla asked, pulling his buzzing phone from his pocket. 

“All I said was to chill out cause the shit wasn't gonna work and you made it clear you ain't want her.” Bronco recounted. “That's it but somehow she got that. She said it's bigger than me that I can't keep yall together.”

“The fuck? Now when Fat beat her ass, ion wanna hear shit.”

“Fucked up thing is, she prolly won't take that warning either. That bitch looney. Maybe you'll get lucky and they'll move her to main roster.”

Zilla shrugged. “That won't solve it. I gotta go there at some point.”

Bronco thought for a second then smiled. “I got it. Trick single, maybe we can talk her up to him and get him to get her attention. If she got her own man, she won't be worried about you.”

“You think it'll work?”

Bronco shrugged, “Don't hurt to try. Who texting you?”

Rolling his eyes, Zilla texted brothers back then sat the phone down again. “Ma, my brothers, and Josh.”

“Which one you rolling your eyes at? I know it ain't Ma.” Bronco joked.

“Nah, nah.” He smiled thinking about her. “It's Josh. Ever since we got into it at Jon house, he been textin me.”

“Oh yeah. You never told what yall got into it about.”

Zilla quickly responded to his mother’'s message. “He don't like Fat. He think that she gon end up like Ms. Nadine and that I should leave her for Gia or somebody.”

“He don't like Rye?” He asked with a frown. “That's strange as hell. She ain't shit like her moms from what I been seeing.”

“And that's what I was sayin. He kept going, then when he brought up kids, I snapped at him.” He shook his head thinking of it. “I promised Fat I wouldn't say anything about it but he pissed me off, I told them about the abortion and her having her tubes tied.”

“Damn you must've really been pissed off. He textin you to apologize?”

“Yeah but he still tryna get me to hear him out.” Zilla answered, shaking his head. “Anyway, though, we can talk to Trick tomorrow. Sooner we do that shit, sooner I get her the hell away from me.”

Bronco laughed, slapping hands with his friend. “Hell yeah. Cause I can’t deal with that shit too much longer.”

“Deal with what shit?” Toni asked.

She and Moriah entered the waiting room finally getting a break from the overflow of patients coming in. Bronco gave his friend an ‘I told you so’ look before they moved to hug their girlfriends. 

“What’s up, old lady?” Bronco joked, kissing her head.

She hit him in his stomach laughing. “I got your old lady. Answer my question.”

“You nosey as shit,” he laughed, “Doing extra shit in practice cause they keep messin’ up.”

“Mmhm and so are you.”

Zilla stood with his arms still wrapped around Moriah, hugging her tight, keeping his face in her neck. She giggled trying to get him to let go.

“Zay, that’s enough.”

He shook his head, still holding onto her.

Toni pinched the back of his neck making him hiss and let go. “Always bothering that girl. Stay off of her.”

“She don’t want me to stay off her, mane. Ask her.” He laughed, pulling Moriah back to him.

“Anyway,” Moriah called out to stop their brewing argument, “We been so busy, we didn’t even get to watch the show. How was it?”

“My match was good. His match was aight,” Bronco boasted playfully and they started to play fight. “Aight, aight, you got it, bro. You know she mean as hell and gon put us out.”

“Who you callin’ mean? I am not mean.” Moriah sassed with her hands on her hips.

“I mean you are a little bit mean, girl. Just a little.” Toni laughed, pinching her fingers together.

“You know he wasn’t talkin’ bout Fat. Fat mean as hell but she ain’t gon put us out.” Zilla corrected. “You put us out like four times already.”

Toni scoffed at his interruption. “And yet yall asses still somehow end up right back in here. Ima get yall banned from my ED.”

Bronco wrapped his arms around her, poking his lip out payfully. “You gon ban ya man? If you do that then I can’t make those trips up here that you like so we both gon miss out.”

Toni gasped, hitting his arm. “Why would you say that in front of them? Now his bad ass is about to try and come up here and do that.”

“My bad, baby.”

Zilla frowned again, preparing to give an unedited response to Bronco’s admission but Moriah put her hand over his mouth and pulled him away from the couple. When they were far enough away she took her hand down and folded her arms across her chest waiting for his response.

“You knew they was up here gettin’ busy, Fat?”

“Of course I did. She’s my best friend.”

“And you ain’t tell me? I coulda been slidin up here to see you too. But it’s cool I know now, I know what to do.” He grinned rubbing his hands together.

She shook her head, wagging her finger at him. “Nope, absolutely not. No. That’s why I didn’t tell you. You do not understand the meaning of quick and you do too much.”

“I told you I can try,” he laughed. “ When you get off, we can try then.”

“Boy when I get off, you’re gonna be getting ready to go to the PC. You are not about to blame me for you being late.”

“I ain’t gon be late, I promise. You been straight up here though?”

She nodded, taking a look around the now empty waiting room. “Yeah, I’m never volunteering to switch shifts for a week again. It’s Toni fault, she tricked me. She just didn’t wanna be here alone. Heffa.”

He chuckled, running his fingers through his growing hair. “She was gonna miss you and she knew you was gonna miss her. And she know you would acted like a brat the whole week yall was without each other, man.”

She scrunched her face at him. “You get on my nerves, always tryna make sense.”

“Love you too. But you know that I ain’t what I was askin’, Fat.”

“He hasn’t been bothering me. The good thing about night shift is that when I’m coming in, he is gone or almost off. He doesn’t even leave through the ED anymore. Whatever you and Bronco did, worked.”

“What you mean? We ain’t did nothin.”

She stared at him. “You and him keep saying that but that don’t make it true, Isayah. Me and Toni already know.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you say, bae.”

“Mmhm.That bitch had her hands on you tonight?”

Hearing her tone go from sweet and light to annoyed and heavy gave him pause. He stared at her for a moment trying to contain himself. Although he would never say it out loud especially not to Moriah but the territorial side of her turned him on. If he could see more of it and it wouldn’t fuck up her mood for too long he wouldn’t complain at all.

“What bitch?” He asked biting his lip.

“You know exactly what bitch I’m talkin about, Isayah. That frog eyed bitch.”

He brought his hand to his face rubbing it trying not to smile at her, folding his other arm across his chest. “What frog eyed bitch, Fat?”

Moriah moved closer to him, pointing her finger in the middle of his chest as she spoke. “The frog eyed bitch that thought I was your damn cousin. That one.”

Chuckling a bit, Zilla grabbed her hand bringing it to his lips to kiss it but she snatched it away. “You talkin’ bout Gia? Nah she ain’t put her hands on me, Fat. I ain’t even talk to her outside of the interview I had to do.”

“Mmm, if she know what I know she better keep her hands off you. I don’t wanna have to beat her ass but I will.”

“I know you will,” he admitted in a low voice. “You can take a break right now?”

“For what?” She asked, clearly still annoyed by the thought of Gia.

“So we can go talk real quick, Fat.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “No, Zay. We literally just talked about that. No, there isn’t shit quick about what you wanna talk about.”

“I promise, the way I feel it’ll be quick.”

Holding his stare for a few moments, Moriah nodded and went over to Toni and whispered in her ear. “We’ll be right back. Don’t start.”

Toni nodded, giving her a slight push and went back to her conversation with Bronco, who shared a quick look with Zilla.

Putting her hand in his, Moriah let him lead her out of the emergency department to the lower level of the parking garage to his parked car, both of them getting in the backseat. Not wasting any time, Zilla laid her down in the backseat, his lips finding hers and his hands finding the waistband of her scrub pants, helping her pull them along with her panties down. He leaned up for a moment to pull her shoes off and then her bottoms off completely and tossed them into his front seat going back down to kiss and bite her neck.

“Zay,” she moaned softly, wrapping her arms and legs around him, wanting him closer. A squeal escaped her feeling his cold fingers moving lazily up and down her slit, purposefully not touching her clit. Her hips moved in tandem with his fingers as she tried to control the sounds she made. Knowing she was struggling with keeping as quiet as possible, he captured her lips in another searing kiss. As they kissed, he withdrew his hand from her to free himself from the confinement of his briefs and basketball shorts. He teased her for a few moments, gathering as much of her essence as he could before plunging into her bottoming out immediately. Moriah broke their kiss, her back arching as she gasped loudly at the welcomed intrusion. 

“Baby, baby, baby,” she mewled out. 

Sitting up a bit, he pulled her closer, angling her hips up smirking when she cursed under her breath. “You good?” He asked. His hands caressed her thighs and hips while he waited for her answer. 

She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah.”

Now having the confirmation he needed, he tapped into his earlier feelings. The annoyance and anger in her eyes that lit a different type of fire within him. He pistoned his hips into her, lifting her thighs so they rested on his forearms making sure she couldn’t go anywhere. His thrusts rocked her body making her cry out to him.

“What you called her, Fat? What you say about her?” His voice was low and thick.

“Umm … fuck … I.” Her voice trailed off into incoherent words mixed with her moans. She brought her hand up to the window for leverage and to keep her head from hitting the door anymore than it already had. “That frog eyed bitch better … shit, Zay … she better keep her hands off you.”

“Yeaaaah,” he drug out lowly chasing his approaching release. “That’s that shit. What you gon do if she don’t?”

Feeling knots forming in her stomach and her body starting to tingle, she reached between them to push at his stomach. “Too much, Zay. Fuck,” she whined breathlessly. 

He smacked her hand away from him then rubbed her clit. “Watch out. Answer my question, girl.”

Moriah twitched beneath him, writhing trying to get away from him with nowhere to go. “Beat her ass,” she yelled out feeling him graze her spot. The realization wasn’t lost on him, he targeted it not sure how much longer he could hold out. “Zay, please,” she begged pulling him down to her.

“I know. I’m witchu.” He mumbled against her lips. “Shit, you want me to pull out?” The thought to put on a condom crossed his mind much too late. Even though there was a small chance that she could get pregnant, he still wore them occasionally.

She shook her head, bringing her hips up to meet his. “Cum inside me.” 

At her words, Zilla lost control, his thrusts switching from measured and controlled to erratic and sloppy, driving them both to orgasm. He shuddered, still thrusting as the both of them rode out their high. He collapsed gently on top of her, his face in her neck kissing her there. After a few, he lifted his head to smile at her. 

“Zilla told you that he could be quick.”

“Boy,’ she laughed, hitting his shoulder, “You got lucky.”

He laughed and kissed her neck and face again. “Shit, we both got lucky.”

“Swear you get on my nerves, Zay. Get off me, I gotta go back to work.”

Leaning up off of her, he eased out of her both of them hissing at the loss of contact. He reached up to turn on the courtesy light. His eyes went from her face to between them, using his index and middle finger to push his cum that started to leak out of her back in making her stare at him.

“What I do, man?” He laughed, grabbing the baby wipes out of the middle console.

She slid up a bit to lean against the door. “You know exactly what you did.”

He shrugged playfully as he took a few wipes out to clean her up and then himself and tucked it back into his briefs and shorts. Grabbing her discarded bottoms, he passed them to her then got out to give her space to put them back on. By the time he came back from the trash can, she was standing outside his car tying her shoes up. When she was finished he held his hand out to her so they could walk back to the hospital.

“So you gon let me try again when you get off or no?” He asked once they got to the waiting room.

“Maybe but I get to be on top this time.”

“Whatever you want, Fat. Zilla only purpose is to please you.” He answered lowly as he brought her into a hug, his hands finding and squeezing her ass.

Toni pushed them apart, shooing him away with her hand. “Alright, that’s enough. I’m gonna need an insulin shot if yall keep that cute stuff up.”

“Come on na, T. You coulda waited a few minutes. I was saying bye,” he laughed.

She looked at her watch then pointed at him. “I gave you fifteen minutes. That was more than enough.”

Moriah and Bronco laughed watching them go back and forth. The two of them argued like brother and sister every time they see each other and then would be the best of friends if it meant going against Moriah or Bronco. 

The phone rang and rang making Nadine’s nerves worse by the minute. With the stress of her conversation with Hassan and the shambles her relationship with Moriah was reduced to, she needed to take her mind off of it. Her head had been pounding from the off and on crying she had done after Hassan hung up on her. The life that she had built up for herself wasn’t turning out the way she had planned. Their marriage had been perfect until Hassan decided to take the job she always pulled him away from. Art and design was great and everything but it was unpredictable, she couldn’t handle the unpredictability of it. Not when he had a family to provide for. She knew he was an expert with numbers and convinced him to go into finance when they were in college but instead of him completely dropping art he had a double major. 

Him in finance and her in speech-language pathology. Their life was great, they could afford the lifestyle she needed and take care of their daughter while still being comfortable. And when Moriah met Zilla, she got the friend she never knew she needed or was missing. She had her husband, her baby, her career, the lifestyle that she dreamed of and a friend. It was all a dream until it wasn’t. 

“Nadine … you there?”

She laughed a little. “Sorry, sorry. My mind is just all over the place right now.”

The low chuckle flowed through the phone. “Is it now? My schedule is clear for the next three days.”

“That sounds lovely but I just don’t feel like the hassle of the airport and all those people in there and on the plane.”

“I wouldn’t put you on a commercial flight. You know better. I’ll send my private jet to get you.”

She snorted. “Private? Since when do you have a private jet? And didn’t tell me.”

“It’s a new purchase. You’ll be the first person I’ll have on it.”

For the first time all day, a slick smile graced her face. “What time should I be ready?”

“I’ll have a car there in about three hours to get you. That should be enough time for the jet to get there. Is that long enough or do you need more time?”

“Nope, that sounds perfect.”

“Good. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my favorite girl,” he cooed into the phone.

“It has, I’m sure we’ll make up for lost time.” She agreed, finally relaxing. “I’m gonna go pack. Thank you, DJ.”

“You’re welcome.”

[maxsimagination]

𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘄𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀 - 𝘀.𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘆

summary: it’s steph’s birthday coming up and her girlfriend wants to surprise her.

𖦹 masterlist

"𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗞𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗢 𝗠𝗨𝗖𝗛, i'm sure she'll love it. bye." i clicked the red 'hang up' button on my phone as i finished up my call with nikki webster, the one and only. it was steph's birthday tomorrow and i wanted to surprise her with her favourite song, sung by her favourite artist.

macca, lani and caitlin had suggested we throw a party on the night of her birthday, and we surprise her with something, but it was me that thought of flying down nikki to perform.

the whole team thought it was a great idea, and they each pitched in to help set up the party, and make sure steph didn't find out. i even had tony make sure we were allowed to hold the gathering in the huge 'lounge' we had at the matilda's training complex. of course he'd said yes and and made sure there was speakers and a mic for nikki to sing with.

i was snapped out of my daydream when steph walked in and slid her arms around my waist. “hey babe, whatcha up to?” i turn to her with a smile.

"nothing." my voice is laced with cheekiness and steph can tell something's up. "you sound like your up to something, what have you done?" her tone was light enough for it to be a joke but part of her was slightly scared, i'm known to be impulsive and not think things through.

"i swear i haven't done anything, stephy." again with the sickly sweet smile. she decided to drop it for know, but her gut knew that i was up to something. it's a sixth sense she gets when she's with me.

——

the next day rolled around; steph's 29th birthday. i was the first one awake, like an excited little kid even though it wasn't even my birthday. i slipped out of the bed we shared and tiptoed down to the kitchen to start making some breakfast for my girl. my phone was on the kitchen counter, some light music flowing from the small speakers as i danced around, whipping up some pancakes.

it didn't take me long and i was soon pouring the batter into little circles in the frying pan. i had two plates on a tray, ready to be brought up to steph in our room. finally i had all the pancakes dishes up, grabbed the bottle of golden syrup that i knew steph would use, the utensils and the tray and headed to the sleeping beauty still in bed.

she was in fact, still in bed, and i slipped down next to her, putting the tray on my bedside table. "steph, wake up. i made you breakfast." it must have been the smell of the pancakes that woke her because she always sleeps through alarms. "mmm, mornin' babe, something smells good."

i chuckled at her and brought the tray to rest in front of us. "happy birthday." i pressed a kiss to her forehead and she sat up to eat with me. "don't remind me how old i am." she grinned at me and we started eating.

"stephanie-elise catley, you better be dressed! we have to go to training." i shouted out to my girlfriend who was probably still lying in bed. we had both finished eating almost a half hour ago and i had taken everything to the kitchen to get cleaned up. now i was dressed and ready to walk out the door but steph was nowhere to be seen or heard.

"i'm coming i'm coming!" there was a faint shout back and some small stomps from the room, you could tell she forgot we had training and was now hopping about the room trying to get dressed quickly.

i just laughed to my self as she finally hurtled down the stairs with her shoes in one hand and phone in the other. "okay, i'm here. let's go." she grinned proudly at me, it was the quickest she'd gotten dressed before. "alright, alright tiger. put your shoes on and we'll go." it was times like these that really made me fall in love more. i grabbed the car keys and we both went out to the car, heading to training.

——

i was absolutely shattered after that session. tony had us running hard, fine tuning everything we could for the world cup. the rest of the team was currently in the change rooms, i was outside with sam. someone had to keep steph distracted, and then get her back here for the party. "okay, so i'll take care of steph, we just need to set up the room inside before nikki gets here."

i was slightly stressing and sam could tell "hey, yn, chill. i got everything covered. you said that party's at 5, nikki at 5:30?"

i took a deep breath and sighed. "yea, thanks so much sam. i just want it to be perfect for her." we finished the details of our plan and headed to get changed. once both me and steph were done, we headed to the car, me sending a discreet nod to sam and macca one our way out. they were the like the co-captains of steph's secret birthday celebration.

it was almost impossible for me to hard the jitters i had about my surprise for steph. it was now the afternoon and i had to get both of us ready and back out for the party. "hey, stephy! c'mere." she poked her head out from wherever she was hiding. "yea what's up?" "i'm taking you out for your birthday, you have to go and get ready." her face softened with a smile.

"you don't have to do that, yn. i'm happy to just stay in with you." "but i want to. c'mon, pretty please?" i attempt my best version of puppy eyes and she instantly folded.

"okay, okay. anything for you, love." she left with a smile and got changed. i had already changed into my clothes, and soon so was steph. we went on our way and when we got close i told her to cover her eyes. with much protesting, she reluctantly covered her eyes with her hand for the rest of the ride. i pulled into the matilda's complex for the second time that day, turning the vehicle off.

"hold on, i'll come get you." i raced around the side to get steph. she slowly hopped out, eyes still covered. i walked her inside and made sure she wasn't peeking.

"okay, 3, 2, 1, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" i opened the door to the room and the team yelled out at us from the other side. steph immediately opened her eyes and grinned at what she saw. "oh, this is so cute, thankyou yn!" she turned to hug me and i returned the favour. we started mingling with all our teammates, me heading for sam and mac.

"that was so stressful. i was jittering the whole way here." they laughed at me and we all checked the time, ready for nikki to make an appearance.

speak of the devil, i got a ping on my phone and saw it was from nikki. 'pulling in now, see you soon.' i snapped into action and told sam to meet nikki out front and mac was in charge of putting on the song. i headed for steph. "we have to dance, come on, mac is putting on music."

she laughed at my antics and followed me to the middle of the floor. her favourite song, strawberry kisses, blasted through the sound system and steph broke into a grin.

'𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦,

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨,

𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘴,

𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪'𝘮 𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨.'

the lyrics were thrown out into the room and everyone joined in. it was the teams' song, they loved listening to it.

'𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦,

𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦,

𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳,

𝘰𝘩-𝘰𝘩.'

steph was having a magnificent time, dancing away with me, yelling out the words with the song. the the voice changed, it was still the same song but it was like it was being sung live, in the room.

'𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴,

𝘤𝘶𝘻 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺.

𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴,

𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘦.'

everyone whipped their heads towards the door where nikki webster stood, mic in hand, singing steph's favourite song. the whole room cheered, even sam was clapping and cheering from her place next to the singer. i looked at steph, who was shocked. she had no idea this was happening. "happy birthday, love." she turned to me.

"you did this?" i nodded with a smile. she wrapped me in a tight hug, squeezing me until i couldn't breathe. it was definitely a memorable night, one that ended very late and with tony scolding us that we'd be tired at training the next day. but none of us cared in that moment.

[fairytsuk1]

getting katsuki gifts for the holidays was like trying to teach a monkey to dance, it was impossible.

you'd whined, mumbling about how the two of you had enough money to buy most items you wanted; katsuki also never seemed to never ask for things specifically.

"so, katsuki... the holidays are coming up!"

he's picking at his ordered in take-out, and you can see his displeasure at the lack of peppers as he picks through his kung pao chicken.

"yeah, already got your gift," and he's giving you smirk that makes you sweat, "are you sure you got the right chicken? this shit tastes like the fuckin' kids menu."

your eyes get caught on the wedding band wrung around his fingers, sailing the veins of his forearm till you can see his bulging biceps in the black muscle shirt. was your husband hand-carved by gods? seemed likely.

"mmm, no, it should be the kung pao chicken, want me to chop some chilies up for you?"

you're standing before he can protest, taking out your knives and chopping boards, "and you already have my gift? I don't have your gift, yet."

the box of take-out is set down as your husband circles his arm around your waist to leave soft kisses on the column of your neck.

"yeah, 'cause you don't love me," and a thankful hand squeezes your ass just to show his appreciation for the chopping of chilies, "...whatcha gonna get me?"

his hands are still wandering, and you're thinking more of what his talented fingers could do than his stupid gift, "i'm not supposed to tell, you know. santa's elves might get me into a whole lotta trouble."

he gropes you even more fiercely, and you can feel his pressing need against your back.

"fuck santa,"

he carries you off in a fit of giggles to your shared bedroom.

-

the bookstore was fairly crowded and you felt thankful you could slip by unnoticed and browse the various books of romance or sci-fi; katsuki didn't even seem like a sci-fi guy so each row left you feeling panicky and like a bad wife the further and further you went.

"excuse me, do you have any classical romance?"

the timbre of the voice makes your heart stop. It sounded just like, well, katsuki! your legs are thrumming with the knee-jerk reaction to tackle him to the ground, but you were literally buying his gift! the surprise would be ruined, and you're dashing into the row of cookbooks to calm yourself.

maybe it's not even him. you know what they say, just because it sounds like katsuki doesn't mean it is! you're affirming yourself silently when footsteps grow close, and your husband is flashing by you in seconds.

it is katsuki!

"i'm fucked."

your eyes follow the object of your love, his strong hands randomly pick books out of nowhere, but there's grumbles of displeasure as he skims the summary and grimaces at the cover. he didn't know that much about books, but you deserved something special.

you'd dealt with all the hero stuff (being gone for long periods of time and coming home nearly dead was no news to you), always made him lunch or dinner, and frankly... katsuki found his eyes drifting to a sleeping baby in its stroller.

he'd started thinking more like that. so the gift had to be pretty damn good!

a man strikes up conversation, and you smile at the idea that katsuki wasn't just factually married, but he gave that aura too. yeah, that was your man.

"i'm shoppin' for my wife," straight to the point and he's already grumbling at having to interact with this person for more than a minute.

"wow! a true husband, what's with the books then? looking to open your marriage?"

it's a joke that katsuki doesn't find funny, you do however and you're sure this conversation would be going very differently.

"fuck no. i'm just lookin' for somethin' good," there's a brief pause in his words, and katsuki looks askance at having to provide a reason why, "she does a lot for me. want her to know I appreciate it."

a beating heart is soothed by the words. your hormones run wild at his mild love declaration, and you're grinning like a mad man.

katsuki wakes up on christmas morning to find his absolute favorite thing; you.

and the book he got was pretty damn good, too.

[paddedlittleparadise]

Twelve Months to a Better Life – Ch. 21 (Teaser)

Jayden has been lucky – or unlucky! – enough to be in the care of his wife Erica and her skilled female friends. They've all been more than willing to turn his life-long fantasies of becoming a regressed adult baby into reality!

The year's drawing to a close… but has the man-baby really arrived at his embarrassing goal?

–––

Warm. Mmm… wet. Warm. Nice. Yummy.

The words, mere ghosts of ideas, flitted erratically through Jayden's head. His eyes blinked slowly upward – over the cylindrical curve of the bottle in his hands, up toward the far-off fuzzy ceiling of the living room. He lay there on the carpet, muscles limp, mouth suckling rhythmically at the large and milk-filled teat. And in this place, this state, he had no real need of anything more than the occasional word bubbling up from his regressed mind.

Nice. Yummy. Warm.

A wet burp escaped his lips, and a trickle of milky drool slowly slid downward from the left corner of his mouth. Perhaps in months past he would have blushed, apologized, reached for a napkin to dab at his indiscretion. But here and now… well, he didn't need to. It didn't even occur to him, rapt as he was in the unthinking meditation of his bottle-feeding. Burps came, burps went. Just like all of his other bodily emissions.

Num, num. Ba-ba… good…

Gone at last from his nose was the feeding tube. He'd recovered well from the surgery, the oral surgeon said – and what a relief to the half-conscious man-baby! His hypnotic training had left him with an overpowering need to suck, to gulp, to fill his mouth with a thumb or a bottle or a pacifier. And now at last he could satisfy that urge once more. His now-toothless gums were healed, and to work they went: gumming and drooling their way eagerly on everything Suri and Erica gave him.

Though, on their part, they gamely followed Natasha's suggestions. "After all, his poor tummy's not used to solids anymore," she had advised Erica after the tube's removal. "Honestly, I think you'd do much better keeping him on a hundred percent liquid diet for a good while longer…"

And so they did. Bottles only for Jayden: bottles of creamy adult formula, and juices, and the occasional dose of watery soup. If he minded, he didn't say so. After all… the most his drooling mouth managed these days was generally incomprehensible babble. Babble which, it must be said, was generally silenced with a well-placed pacifier or bottle nipple.

Gasp, gasp, gasp. The bottle was empty… again.

Another burp escaped him, and from his hands the empty bottle dropped to the floor. Gone. Num-num… gone… He blinked, his right thumb already slipping down to his parted and sticky lips. Mmm, suck. Nice. Suck. It wasn't a bottle, but that was okay. Yum. Nice. Suck…

"Aww, did you finish your bottle? Is your ba-ba all gone?" Suri's voice sounded from behind, and he blinked upward into her face as it appeared suddenly in his line of sight. "Such a good little baby! You must have been hungry, huh?"

She knelt as she spoke, her hands dropping down to squeeze the thick padding bulging between his splayed and naked thighs. In response to his recent uptick in liquid consumption, Jayden's diapers were now a truly multi-layered affair: a night-weight disposable with a single high-capacity booster. Over that went two layers of cloth diapering, pinned snugly in place. And over all that went a gleaming, balloon-like pair of milky plastic pants, their elastic bands drawn snugly around his thighs and waist. It was impossible to hide such a mass even under a onesie – and so these days Suri had opted simply not to even try. Hence, the simple cotton t-shirt that declared Jayden to be "Mommy's little messmaker."

"Still no leaks," Suri beamed, and Jayden writhed beneath his caregiver's touch in a sudden swell of discomfort. Because somewhere, deep in the recesses of his mind, a small voice was whispering that he should be embarrassed by this: by having a lovely, beaming young woman hovering over him and examining his urine-soaked diapers. It was the voice of his adult self, cutting through the hypnotic haze of subliminal programming. And as the dawning sensation of shame grew stronger, his legs began kicking aimlessly… his brow wrinkling… and his voice giving a gurgling little whimper from behind his saliva-covered thumb.

"Nuuuhh… Nuuhh…"

"Aww, what's with the kicking, sweetie? No, you don't need to get up. You can stay here and play, you know…" Suri assured him, watching in benevolent puzzlement as Jayden's smooth legs kicked harder and he began contorting himself upward. "Nohh- noh buh- buh- beh-bee…" He whimpered, his toothless gums drooling with the effort of making himself understood. "Goh- goh-uh-"

"Oh, no you don't, sweetie," Suri reprimanded with a laugh – and even as Jayden began scrambling awkwardly to his hands and knees, his nurse caught him and thrust him back down, this time onto his stomach. "You're not a big boy anymore, remember? Doctor says you're far too little to try walking these days! Don't make me get the cuffie-cuffs…"

–––

You can read the rest – plus the twenty other previous chapters and many, many other kinky stories – over on the PaddedLittleParadise Ream!

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Aziraphale sweetly convincing Crowley to shrink down just so he can press kisses over him and show his love, and unintentionally managing to turn Crowley on in the process

Tiny Kisses

Warnings: micro/macro, oral play, overstimulation, unplanned exhibitionism, grinding, palming

"Crowley, dear, would you..." Aziraphale trails off, thumbing over a page in his book but not properly turning it, as though he'd been staring at the words but not actually reading them. His mind was seemingly elsewhere.

He's sitting comfortably on his settee, with Crowley stretched out across from him, sitting improperly on a chair but looking otherwise relaxed. His head tilts towards Aziraphale in order to acknowledge him, but Aziraphale doesn't meet his eyes. Instead, he continues to fiddle with the paper before him, rubbing his fingers over it.

When Aziraphale doesn't elaborate further, Crowley raises an eyebrow.

"Would I what, angel?" he asks, a curious edge to his voice. He adjusts his position slightly, keeping his legs swung over the arm of the seat, but sitting up further in order to give Aziraphale his proper attention.

Aziraphale glances at Crowley, before sliding his reading glasses off and sucking in a deep breath.

"Do you remember Scotland?" Aziraphale asks, before clarifying "Edinburgh, 1827?"

Crowley grimaces. "How could I forget?"

What Aziraphale and Crowley were remembering were wildly different, as Aziraphale was thinking of the bottle of laudanum, while Crowley was thinking about being dragged down to hell while horribly intoxicated, and the bleary repercussions he faced after. Still, with the timeframe fresh in their minds, Aziraphale clears his throat.

"I assume you remember Elspeth," he begins, listening as Crowley hums in consideration, "and her... unsavory desires to... end her life prematurely."

"Mmm. Spritely one, she was."

"Spritely" was not how Aziraphale would describe her, but she was definitely interesting, and a learning experience for him. However, Aziraphale wasn't thinking of her.

"Do you remember the laudanum?"

Crowley presses his lips into a thin line. He's acting as though he's trying to recall it, but Aziraphale can see in his body language that Crowley already knows exactly what he's talking about.

Finally, Crowley shrugs. "I do."

"Great. Perfect." Aziraphale closes his book and sets it off to the side, smoothing his pants before folding his hands formally in his lap. Immediately, Crowley can sense a favor coming, and groans as he forces himself into a more proper position, face-to-face with Aziraphale.

"What do you want?" Crowley asks, getting ahead of the curve.

Aziraphale lets out a short, closed mouth laugh at the question, but still hesitates for a moment. It takes Crowley lowering his glasses to properly stare at Aziraphale curiously for Aziraphale to finally find his words.

"Back in Edinburgh, after drinking the laudanum, you shrunk. You grew, too, but that's not the point."

"I vaguely recall something like that happening. Your point?"

Aziraphale smiles. "Well... I was just wondering... would you consider shrinking again?"

Crowley's nose scrunches up into dramatic disgust, as he raises his glasses, shielding his narrowed eyes. "Now why would I do that?" he exclaims, in a mixture of surprise and exasperation. Aziraphale can see the shock on Crowley's face at the unexpected question, but he doesn't back down.

"I'd just like if you would," Aziraphale answers. He doesn't have a good reason, per se, but there was no harm in asking! "I promise, it'll be worth it. And you can always grow back right after."

Crowley frowns, deep and unimpressed, but stands up with a groan anyway, ever willing to please his angel. "Fine," he huffs, stuffing his upper half of his fingers into his tight pockets. "But don't think this'll be a common occurrence."

Looking rather stiff, Aziraphale watches with delighted eyes as Crowley's form quickly diminishes into a miniature version of itself, until he's just a little smaller than the palm of Aziraphale's hand. Aziraphale leans off the sofa to gently scoop him up, and Crowley lets him, getting lazily settled against Aziraphale's soft flesh and fat fingers.

He looks grumpy, as though he's been horribly inconvenienced, but softens quickly when Aziraphale smiles wide at him, clearly pleased that he listened.

Aziraphale's thumb then folds over Crowley's body, gently rubbing over his stomach and legs with the pad of his finger, petting him compassionately while still being considerably gentle.

"You look like a little doll," Aziraphale comments, quiet voice brimming with excitement. "I understand why you were so worried about accidentally being crushed in Scotland. You're so bijou."

Crowley scoffs at being equated to some tiny trinket, but chews the inside of his cheek in an attempt to mask his fluster.

Then, however, Aziraphale is moving his hand upwards so that Crowley is near his lips, and places the gentlest of kisses against him. He's oblivious to the way his lips completely envelop Crowley's figure, which has Crowley wiggling slightly at the feeling.

It's a quick kiss, pulling Crowley's breath from him as Aziraphale pulls away, licking his lips after with a soft smile. It was just a momentary thing, and yet Crowley's left speechless, any complaints he would have made about the affection actively dying on his tongue.

Crowley pants, before wiping his face as he breaths "now what was that all about?"

Aziraphale looks playfully guilty, before admitting "you looked rather kissable. It's hard to resist temptation, especially when it comes from you."

Crowley didn't even do anything. Nothing his angel hadn't asked of him, at least. And yet he feels his chest swell with pride and excitement at the words - at the idea he's tempting Aziraphale just by existing.

Aziraphale is planting another kiss to Crowley's frame before he even has the chance to recuperate from the first, leaving him breathless when Aziraphale pulls away once again. However, he's given little respite, as Aziraphale kisses him again, clearly confident in this display of affection, and still unaware of how red it's making Crowley's face.

The repeated pressing of Aziraphale's lips to his body do many things. It messes up his hair, skews his glasses to the side and smudges them, but humiliatingly enough it manages to arouse him.

Slowly - but growing more and more intense with each enveloping peck to his form - heat begins to spread through Crowley's body, arousal and excitement building intensely. Crowley is desperate to hide it from his angel, but doing such is nearly impossible with Aziraphale's lips sweetly jackhammering against him over and over again.

Aziraphale has no idea of the embarrassment of the situation.

Crowley is so small. He's completely at Aziraphale's disposal - lest he grow back right now and land either on Aziraphale's lap or on his back on the floor - and he feels such intensely. No way to stop the soft kisses, the pressure of his lips, the thin veil of spit that slowly soaks through his clothes and slicks through his hair.

He barely manages to knock his own glasses off and away (as they're already beyond saving, with his visibility being obscured by smeared saliva). He's truthfully just praying that Aziraphale remains oblivious to the obvious tent growing down below, though he's also realistically aware his tight pants will make this sort of thing painfully obvious.

Crowley knows he should make some excuse to grow back to normal, and try to side-step the situation before Aziraphale can wise up to his excitement, but he can't even get a word in inbetween the affection.

Aziraphale keeps kissing him for another minute or so, indulging in what to him is just a form of otherwise wholesome appreciation, before he pulls his head away. He looks down at Crowley, cupped within both of his hands to keep him safe as opposed to just the one, prepared to ask if it's okay he keeps going, only to quickly turn red when he notices Crowley's bulge.

Crowley, in turn, flushes under Aziraphale's gaze, and rushes to press his legs together.

However, Aziraphale's thumb slides over Crowley's body with a surprising mixture of confidence and curiosity, effortlessly spreading Crowley's thighs apart and pressing the pad of his finger over Crowley's bulge.

There's clear amusement in Aziraphale's eyes, and despite looking a bit flustered, he muses "well, it looks like you've enjoyed yourself quite a bit."

Crowley flushes darker, a lot more defensive as he insists "it's not my fault!" while actively trying to push Aziraphale's thumb away. Aziraphale doesn't even understand the effects he has on Crowley.

In turn, Aziraphale pushes his thumb more firmly against Crowley, watching as Crowley's small fingers dig into his flesh more desperately while his back arches, letting out a trembling moan at the slight friction against his crotch. To Aziraphale, he's barely moving his finger, but to Crowley, Aziraphale might as well have been roughly palming him.

"I was genuinely trying to be sweet," Aziraphale murmurs, "it's not my fault you're so... excitable."

Crowley narrows his eyes, looking grumpy. He squirms beneath Aziraphale's touches. "You were the one so insistent on doing this!" Crowley points out. "And you're the one furthering it!"

Aziraphale looks completely unbothered by Crowley's stammered defense, and quickly cuts him off with another gentle kiss surrounding his body yet again, before once again sliding his thumb slowly over Crowley's clothes, caressing his body from his chest to his groin.

"There's no reason to be so bitter, dear," Aziraphale softly chastises. "You're enjoying yourself, aren't you? Besides, I don't mind that you're so dirty minded."

Crowley's baffled, and can't tell if Aziraphale is messing with him, or being completely genuine in his reasoning that this is all Crowley's fault, but either way Aziraphale's words only arouse him further. So much so, that he looks almost shocked when Aziraphale pulls one of his hands away, rolling him fully into the palm of the other.

With his free hand, Aziraphale makes a quick motion with his pointer finger and uses a small miracle to instantly rid Crowley of those tight, pesky clothes.

This time, when Aziraphale places a kiss to Crowley's front, the tip of his tongue barely peeks out of his mouth and runs along his nude body, licking over his nipples, down his thin chest, and over his exposed cock.

Immediately, Crowley cries out in sensitivity at the feeling, spit glistening over his torso when Aziraphale pulls away, leaving his lithe form coated in saliva and burning with arousal and interest. His cock is hard and leaking pre, while Crowley lays back panting.

Aziraphale smiles down at him.

"You're like a little treat," he states, making Crowley frown. "Though, you obviously don't taste like cake or pastries." His thumb again runs over Crowley's body, making Crowley shudder as it traces over his nipples. "Admittedly, the temptation to swallow you up is rather prevalent!"

Crowley again scrunches his nose, pushing Aziraphale's thumb away yet again.

"You're just thinking about food," Crowley spits, adjusting his position ever so slightly. He's huffy that Aziraphale is equating him to a treat of sorts, but Aziraphale just licks his lips at the accusation.

He brings Crowley back up to his lips, placing a messier kiss to his body, before he shamelessly pulls Crowley's bottom half into his mouth. His legs to his waist are being teased by Aziraphale's tongue, with his midsection held firmly by his lips, and his hand behind Crowley to support his chest and head.

Crowley curses immediately, face aflame with humiliation and hands pushing against Aziraphale's lips in weak protest, but as Aziraphale's tongue drags over his cock, he quickly gives up. His arms fall limp at his sides, and instead he holds tightly to Aziraphale's fingers to ground himself as he moans.

"If you-" Crowley gasps, struggling to catch his breath between Aziraphale's firm licks to his lower half, "if you swallow me, I'll be discorporated!"

Aziraphale hums at the idea.

Of course, he'd never truly think of discorporating Crowley; he's much too fond of him to put him through the pain of excess paperwork. But the fact he could hangs in the air, similar to how Crowley hangs from Aziraphale's lips.

Whenever Crowley squirms too much, or tries to complain to cover his own embarrassment, Aziraphale focuses his licks over Crowley's messy cock, which quickly renders him speechless or causes him to cut of his words with a loud moan. He'll often arch his back or fall limp against Aziraphale's hand, only for Aziraphale to guide his tongue to Crowley's thighs or feet, causing Crowley to wiggle again.

And poor Crowley can feel his orgasm steadily building, heat swelling in his abdomen which he desperately tries to repress. They just started, after all! How pathetic would he look coming so soon? He's desperate to prolong this as much as possible, but Aziraphale makes it mighty difficult.

He tries to express such, even reasoning that Aziraphale hasn't pleasured himself at all, but Aziraphale just pulls Crowley out of his mouth completely and back into his hand, frowning at Crowley's constant insistence on talking.

"If you don't stop complaining, Crowley, I'll just have to shove you completely into my mouth," Aziraphale states, matter-of-factly. "That way I won't be able to hear it."

Crowley pants, lower-half drenched in Aziraphale's spit. He feels rather chilly as the air hits his moist skin. Despite the fact he was really just talking in an attempt to hold his orgasm back, Aziraphale seems to think he was still being grumpy about the entire ordeal. He was so small his voice hadn't reached Aziraphale's ears properly, more so just sounding like loud moans and unintelligible complaints.

Crowley's eyes flicker to Aziraphale's mouth, and shudders with a weird amount of delight at the idea of being pushed completely past his lips.

Sitting on his knees on Aziraphale's palm, Crowley tries to explain himself, knowing there's a chance Aziraphale will just disregard what he has to say anyway. He opens his mouth to start talking, sucking in a deep breath as he does so, watching Aziraphale look interested, and then like he's thinking of something else as Crowley purposefully slurs his words and talks quieter than necessary. He knows Aziraphale can hear him if he talks normally. So he wasn't going to talk normally.

As he speaks, Aziraphale brings Crowley back to his mouth, sliding his legs back past his lips and licking over them affectionately, only for him to quickly make due on his threat. He lets go of Crowley's upper half and tilts his head back, pulling Crowley fully into his mouth with a quick suck, and licking over him immediately.

He explores Crowley's body in its entirety, rolling him over easily so that Crowley's chest and cock presses against the wet muscle. He feels Crowley moving slightly, perhaps attempting to push himself up, only to slip and fall over and over. He hears muffled moans echoing within his cheeks, but in response Aziraphale just pins Crowley to the roof of his mouth with his tongue, gliding it over Crowley's body without a care until finally - finally - Crowley comes without warning.

A wet, garbled moan is all that comes out of him as Aziraphale holds him firmly while swallowing down the miniscule pool of semen, before Aziraphale's tongue settles back to the bottom of his jaw with Crowley laying panting atop it. He gives Crowley a brief respite, before slowly rolling his tongue out of his mouth, and gently plucking Crowley off of it.

Crowley's eyes flutter shut as he lets his head fall back, sucking in fresh air while it's available to him, before he's being gently laid against Aziraphale's pillowy thighs. More specifically, in front of Aziraphale's thick, hard cock.

Stammering, Crowley's eyes go wide when he sees it, blinking in surprise and fluster.

This hardly is even a new thing; his angel always overwhelms him with pleasure without meaning to, and then encourages him to keep going after, but it doesn't make this any less embarrassing.

It does mean he's not too shocked when Aziraphale gently nudges him, though, gently prodding him to "sit up," and petting through Crowley's slick hair with his thumb when he listens.

"How in the world did you manage to get so worked up from nothing?!" Crowley asks in disbelief, wiping some of Aziraphale's spit from his face.

Aziraphale smiles, cheeks pink. "I told you to stop making such lewd noises," he states, as though blaming his arousal on Crowley. He quickly admits afterwards, though "I just couldn't help myself while playing with you. It would have been torturous to leave myself untouched. That'd just be more work for you, after all!"

When Crowley shoots Aziraphale a questioning look, he's gently pushed closer to Aziraphale's shaft.

"You'll help, won't you dear?"

"At this size?" Crowley exclaims. "If I grew back, maybe, but what could I possibly do when I'm just a couple inches tall?!"

Again, Aziraphale smiles, and then Crowley feels his soft hand against his back, slowly moving him forward until Crowley's front is pushed practically completely against Aziraphale's cock. Aziraphale keeps his hand cupped and Crowley in place, but otherwise doesn't move him any further, waiting to see if Crowley will understand his implications. Just what is he willing to do to please Aziraphale at such a tiny size?

Crowley sort of freezes at first, before hesitantly attempting to wrap his arms around Aziraphale's girth. Due to his size, he can hardly get his arms around it, but that doesn't seem to matter, as when he squeezes them slightly Aziraphale groans, and rewards him by pushing him a bit harder against the length.

"Good boy, Crowley," Aziraphale breathes, voice ever so soft. Hearing the praise, Crowley flushes and glances up at him, before muttering curses under his breath. Despite his humiliation, Crowley was ever-desperate to please his angel.

He tries his best to continue drawing soft noises from Aziraphale's mouth, but there's really not much he can do while being so small. Luckily though, Aziraphale is very generous, and so decides to push his hand fully against Crowley's body and begin to drag him upwards and along the length, giving himself a handjob with Crowley's figure pressed against his cock.

Aziraphale relaxes back against the couch as he lets out a pretty, proper moan, making Crowley flush a dark red.

Crowley's fully aware he's going to be overstimulated by the end of this, as Aziraphale's rubbing just drags Crowley's cock against Aziraphale's own repeatedly, stimulating him until he's fully hard once again.

Aziraphale moves his hand slowly, not intending to overwhelm or crush Crowley, but instead just genuinely using his body to please himself. He's rather open with how he's feeling, blessing Crowley's ears with rather prominent moans and gasps.

This wonderful routine continues for about a minute more, before they hear a knock on the bookshop door, startling Aziraphale so badly he squeezes his hand tightly around his cock, slapping his hand over his mouth as he cries out at the pressure, simultaneously smashing Crowley's body hard into his shaft. Crowley moans in response, before he's being dropped by Aziraphale's hand.

Aziraphale cranes his head to look behind him, only to see Nina's unamused face staring back at him from the glass. Aziraphale has to bite back a panicked curse as they make eye contact.

Without thinking, Aziraphale is grabbing his boxers and pants and dragging them up his thick thighs and hips, unintentionally trapping Crowley within his boxers and against Aziraphale's still-hard cock. He takes a pillow off the settee and holds it subtly over his nether regions as he walks to the door, opening it just a crack as he smiles at Nina.

"Your shop has some weird hours, Mr. Fell," she states, making Aziraphale smile nervously.

"Yes, well, they're what works best for me." His voice trembles as he speaks, and he can feel sweat glistening on his upper brow. "Now, was there something you needed?"

"Just brought over some excess pastries," she replies, and Aziraphale has to bite his tongue as he feels Crowley squirming in his pants, flushing dark as he realizes the mishap. Nina keeps talking, stating "it's nearing the end of the day, and it'd be a waste to just throw these out."

"Right. Thanks." Aziraphale holds his pillow with one hand - thankful Nina can't see it - and reaches through the crack in the doors to grab a plate of pretty sweets that've been wrapped up for him. Before he can shut the door though, she rather blatantly slides her foot between them, keeping it open and Aziraphale trapped in this conversation.

She raises an eyebrow. "You feeling alright?"

No. No, he rather wasn't. Crowley is squirming in his pants, fighting instinctively against the sudden suffocating feeling of being pressed firmly against Aziraphale's cock, taking in mouthfuls of his pre as it leaks over both Crowley and into the fabric of Aziraphale's own boxers.

This is humiliating and exhilarating, and he can hear Nina's muffled voice which unfortunately seems to only excite both him and Aziraphale further. He's only semi-confident that Aziraphale won't get them both caught, but that risk has Crowley's body burning up. That, and the fact Aziraphale's boxers were stuffy and humid with his arousal. So, Crowley wriggles some more, shamelessly grinding his body as best he can against Aziraphale, working to please both of them even though he is selfishly addicted to his own pleasure. 

"I'm feeling amazing, actually," Aziraphale quickly insists, with a short nod. "I'll let you finish closing up. Thanks for the-" Aziraphale lowers his head as he bites his bottom lip, thighs squeezed together where he stands, "for the pastries." 

Aziraphale than swiftly shuts the door before Nina can question him further, and lets himself slump partially against it. His back presses firmly against the surface as he drops the pillow onto the ground, feverishly pressing his hand against his straining bulge afterwards. 

"Oh, Crowley," Aziraphale moans, head falling back with a thud as he palms himself through his trousers. Normally, he'd detest potentially making such a mess of his clothes, but with Crowley squirming inside of them he can hardly find the will to care. 

Crowley is pressed hard against Aziraphale's cramped cock, moved and pushed hard against it as Aziraphale rubs himself. He's coated in an already thick layer of precome that steadily drips down Aziraphale's shaft and onto him, allowing him to rub easier along Aziraphale's length. This time, as he feels warmth overtaking his body, he doesn't bother to hold back. His cock grinds messily against Aziraphale's much bigger one, before he's coming once again, his small mess infinitesimal within Aziraphale's wet boxers. 

Muffled moans fill Crowley's ears as Aziraphale lets himself indulge in his pleasure, being shamelessly loud as he rubs and rubs and rubs, before finally coming himself with a loud cry, making a mess of both Crowley and his boxers. He's left rather sweaty and exhausted afterwards, panting as he leans over, still resting against the door for support. 

He lets himself catch his breath for a moment, before his eyes go wide as he remembers Crowley trapped inside his slick pants, and he hastens to unbutton his trousers and slide his hand down them. He cringes briefly at the mess, but after a few moments manages to properly pluck Crowley out and hold him gingerly, relieved to see Crowley looks just as pleased and worn out as he is. 

Too tired to even utter a quip, Crowley lets Aziraphale wipe him clean with a towel, before his small form is being kissed once more - more lightly, this time, as to not bother his otherwise oversensitive body - and he's being laid back on the settee. 

Aziraphale gives him room to grow back to his normal size, which he does with a lazy flick of his hand, dressing himself in dark, comfortable clothes simultaneously. His head rests against the arm of the sofa, eyes gently shut as he takes in long, deep breaths, almost as if he's savoring the smell of sweat permeating the bookshop after their sensual endeavor. 

"Well," Aziraphale starts, "I should probably change." 

"Come read to me after," Crowley mumbles, reaching down from the couch blindly before he manages to snag the book Aziraphale had been flipping through earlier. "Finish your chapter, at least." 

Aziraphale lets out a soft, closed-mouth laugh, nodding his head in response despite the fact Crowley can't see him. However, as Crowley hears Aziraphale's footsteps recede - presumably to go change into his nightwear - he knows that Aziraphale's going to do as he asked when he gets back. And they're going to cuddle as he does so. 

[mamawasatesttube]

Might i suggest 7 or 11 for the soft promts?

11. "Let me wash your hair." combined with 5. "I've got you." for Kon & Kara, requested by @clarkkent-irons !!

"Stop fussin'," Kon mumbles. His head hurts. Actually, his everything hurts, but his head gets a special shoutout. 2-for-1 special bargain! Migraine and everything else-graine!

Wait, that doesn't make sense. The "mi-" part doesn't mean head, does it? Ugh. Whatever. He doesn't care. The point is ouch. Ow.

"Gonna be fine 'n the mornin'," he adds, woozy. "Soon as sun's back. Right-o! All better."

His senses might be all wonky from the migraine and magic blast, but he swears he can hear Tim rolling his eyes.

Kara, meanwhile, does not stop fretting. "You shouldn't have taken that hit for me," she scolds, cradling him in her arms like a baby, which would be really sweet except that it's probably funny to see, because she might have shot up this summer, but he's still taller and broader. Kal's genes at work. "I wasn't paying attention, it's my fault I let my guard down—"

"You took out, like, six of those magic automatons," Tim interrupts. Thank you, Tim, that's exactly what Kon was gonna say. Except Kon probably would've said it stupider. And more slurred. Kon's head hurts. Ow. "Do me a favor and don't start arguing with him while he's already all..."

"Zonked? Whammoed... Ooh. Borked?" Kon offers. Neither Kara nor Tim seems as entertained by this list as he does, for some unfathomable reason.

Eyes still closed, he realizes they're in Tim's ensuite at Titan's Tower by the sound of the door latching into place behind them, and relaxes a little. Then frowns.

"Don' put me in Tim's bed," he warns. "I'm so muddy. Super muddy. Like... like Supernova, but muddy. Get it?" Happens when a guy gets magic blasted into the mud dimension. Which isn't a real dimension, but just the giant mud flats south of the bay. Sploosh. Splat.

Kara sighs. "Yeah, cousin. I get it."

"We'll clean you up first," Tim assures him. He squeezes Kon's limp, muddy hand and leads Kara to the bathroom. "Here, set him down in the tub."

"Sure." Kara shifts him in her arms, guilt still rolling off her in waves. Kind of like how mud is rolling off Kon in waves. Also? His head hurts.

She sets him down incredibly gently, then lingers, her fingers trailing along his cheek. "...Thanks, Kon," she says, still sounding troubled. "I can start trying to make it up to you, um... Let me wash your hair?"

Kon opens his eyes (ow, ow, lights, ow) to pin her with a suspicious look. He has seen her drag a brush through her own curls until they're sad, butchered, fluffy waves, because well the wind messes them up when I fly around anyway and why do you look so horrified, Kon? "...You don'even know what cowash is."

Kara's jaw drops. Behind her, Tim tries and fails to disguise a laugh as clearing his throat.

"Oh, you little—I'm trying to be a nice, loving cousin here, and you—"

"Tiiiim," Kon wheedles. Using his TTK hurts his brain a little right now, but he still stretches out his aura along the tub, the floor, and up Tim's legs to tug plaintively at his shirt. "Don' let her murderize my hair. I'm too pretty t'die like this..."

"I told you he'd be fine," Tim says to Kara, amusement laced through his voice. Kon huffs and closes his eyes again.

His head hurts. And he's so sleepy. Tim probably won't let Kara ruin his curls. Tim is nice like that. Kon likes him. He's pawing through the cabinet where he keeps all of Kon's favorite bath products, so Kon figures he's in the clear. He heaves a sigh and slumps further into the dry tub.

Offended or not, Kara still traces her fingers gently through his hair. It feels nice, and Kon sighs, leaning into her touch. "Mmm..."

"Okay. I'll turn the water on once you get undressed," Kara says, back to being gentle. "Think you can get out of the suit on your own, or do you need a hand?"

"Um." Kon makes a valiant attempt, sending his TTK down his own body, but the more he tries to focus on the belts and latches and zippers, the more pain blossoms behind his temples, splotches of color bursting behind his eyes. Ow, ow, ow. Ugh, now he's nauseous, too. He hates magic. "...Help?"

Kara lets out a soft, breathy laugh and strokes his muddy hair back from his muddy forehead. "Yeah, okay. I've got you."

Tim sets a couple of bottles on the tub wall and then leans down to help pull off Kon's boots, while Kara first strips off one, then the other glove, his belt, and the pouch at his thigh. He thinks he should be self-conscious and ashamed right now, but he's kind of too tired and ouch to care.

"...Thanks," he mumbles, several seconds late, when they've finally gotten him undressed and turned on a gentle stream of warm water. It's soothing against the pain, and he sighs. "Gonna go sleep now."

"Okay, Kon." Tim pats his knee. "We'll be here."

Kon hums, and then slips away.

[bellebridgerton]

Best Buddies Chapter 5 (Modern Benedict Bridgerton x plus size!fem!reader)

✨Masterlist✨

✨Last Chapter✨

Y/n woke up on Sunday, the last day of their visit into the country, the sun shining through the curtains of Benedict's bedroom. She felt his hand resting on her arse, not the she minded in the slightest. She gently stroked his cheek with her thumb, "Benedict, wake up, it's our last day here for the weekend."

Benedict didn't want to wake up, he groaned and curled into Y/n, resulting in Y/n on her back, his head resting on her chest and his body slotted between her legs. Y/n rubbed his back and kissed his head until she saw his eyes open, "Good morning, sleepyhead."

Benedict buried his face in her breasts, still half asleep, "I want to sleep, please. Family can wait." He didn't want to leave her arms and go see his family.

Y/n giggled, "Why is that?"

Benedict cuddled her closer, if that were possible, "You're comfy and warm, and you smell good."

Y/n blushed, "Thank you, Benny, but we can cuddle when we get home, I promise."

Benedict huffed, "Fine, I'll get up." He sat up on his knees, admiring the picture before him; Y/n in her pajamas, hair a mess, sleep in the corners of her eyes. She was perfect. He gently squeezed her thigh lovingly as he got up, like it was something he'd always done. Little did he know it started a fire inside Y/n, a fire that she knew she'd have to try to deal with on her own.

Y/n got up and fished a sundress out of her weekend bag, "What do you think?"

Benedict looked at her dress, it was beautiful and like most other men, he loved when women wore sundresses. Benedict nodded, "I like it, it looks good on you, love." He'd seen her in it before and it was the culprit of many a boner for him.

Y/n grinned and kissed his cheek, "I'm going to go freshen up and change."

Benedict nodded, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He felt his length stiffening again, "Fucking perfect." Benedict getting hard from being around Y/n wasn't new, but the frequency with which it was happening was. He stood up and gripped one of his bed posts, taking his cock in his other hand, thrusting into his hand, "Fuck, that's my girl, so tight! Mmm, Y/n, so good for me, baby girl."

Y/n couldn't believe her ears, Benedict was masturbating, to the thought of her, no less. She felt excited and nervous, but she certainly didn't want to interrupt him, that could make things very awkward.

As soon as she heard him stutter out her name, she hoped he'd finished. She gave it another couple moments, before she opened the door, "I'm ready, do you want me to wait here for you, Benny?"

Benedict had removed his shirt and was stretching, pretending as if nothing happened. He smiled, "Either one is fine with me, I don't want you to miss anything downstairs, but you can wait for me, if you wish, love."

Y/n approached Benedict and rested her hand on his chest, "Don't take too long, okay." She leaned up a bit, "I don't smell cigarettes!"

Benedict chuckled, "I told you I'd kick the habit. It'll take some time, but I feel good." He gently squeezed her waist with both hands, one resting on her lower back and one resting right above her arse. The second hand slid down and lightly touched her arse as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. Benedict felt her body curve with his as his lips touched her cheek. Y/n's arms draped around his shoulders and she kissed his cheek back, kissing his cheek a few times, each one longer than the last. With the last kiss, her hand cupped his opposite cheek, as if he might pull away.

Benedict had no intention of pulling away from all the wonderful attention she was giving him. He kissed her cheek again, his hands rubbing her lower back. He gently pulled back and kissed her temple, then her cheek again.

Y/n giggled softly, "Feeling affectionate this morning, are we?" She didn't mind at all, just surprised.

Benedict gave her a devilish grin, "You said I couldn't give you any kisses until I stopped smoking, and I've stopped, so I'm making up for the ones I missed yesterday." He kissed her jaw like she had done to him the night before.

Y/n blushed like mad, "Go get dressed, your family is waiting on us, I'm sure." She gave him one last kiss on the cheek before gently shoving him into the bathroom.

Benedict laughed but took his clothes into the bathroom with him, cleaning up and changing into jeans and a t-shirt. He exited the bathroom and put his tennis shoes on, "I'll take our bags to the car, you go socialize, I'll be right behind you."

Y/n fastened her sandals on, "Okay, don't be too long."

They both walked out of his bedroom, taking all of their possessions with them. Benedict kissed her cheek and parted paths with her at the bottom of the stairs, "I'll only be a minute, love."

One of Benedict's aunts on his father's side approached Y/n, "You must be Benedict's girlfriend, Violet has told me so much about you, it's lovely to meet you, deary."

Y/n felt her face turn to a crimson blush, "Oh, I'm Y/n, I'm not-."

Benedict appeared behind Y/n with a smile on his face, "Hello love, I see you've met my Aunt Margary. Aunt Margary, this is Y/n."

Aunt Margary smiled, "You two make a lovely couple."

Benedict just smiled and thanked her before she walked away, causing Y/n to look up at him. He could sense what she was going to ask, "It's okay, even if we tried to explain to her that we're just best friends, she'd act like she didn't hear it and continue on like we were a couple anyway."

After a few more introductions to extended family, all of them mistakenly believing that Benedict and Y/n were a couple, they decided to say their goodbyes to their immediate family.

Y/n gave each Bridgerton, a hug and a kiss on the cheek, along with Kate, Penelope, and baby Edmund. She embraced Violet last, Violet said, "Oh my darling girl, do keep an eye on Benedict for me."

Y/n giggled, "I always do, Violet."

Violet nodded, looking down at Y/n lovingly, "Dearest, as I've said before, you are my daughter, blood or not, you can call me Mum, or Mother, if you like."

Y/n teared up a bit, "I will keep an eye on Benedict, Mum."

Violet placed a kiss on Y/n's forehead, "Safe travels, dearest." She turned to Benedict, "And you, don't give her a hard time."

Benedict laughed and smiled, "Yes, Mother." He hugged her close, kissing her cheek.

Violet whispered to her son, "Tell her how you feel, dearest, you two would be so happy together. Don't lose her to someone else." She knew how special Y/n was to Benedict, but she also knew that he wouldn't have his window of opportunity forever.

Benedict nodded, "I won't let that happen, I promise."

~

The ride home felt much quicker than the ride to Benedict's country home.

As Y/n and Benedict walked into their shared flat, Y/n went straight to her bedroom to put away her clothes from the weekend.

Benedict did the same, then laid on his bed, thinking. He couldn't stop replaying their fervent displays of affection just that morning, how her body reacted to his. He needed to be close to her again, if only to hold her.

Benedict walked to her bedroom and noticed the door had been left slightly open, he heard her calling for him. No. She was moaning. Benedict strained his ear a bit more, he could hear a low, faint buzzing. Oh god, she was masturbating and thinking about him! He quietly sped to his bedroom, hoping she didn't notice he was there. About 10 minutes later, he heard shuffling from the kitchen.

Benedict exited his room and saw Y/n cooking a late lunch. He leaned against the island, smirking, "Can you make some for me too?"

Y/n looked over her shoulder at him and smiled, "Of course."

Benedict walked up behind her, his hands low on her hips and his lips grazing her ear, "Thank you, love." He kisses her cheek lazily several times, not bothering to pull away, just resting his lips against her cheek until pressing another kiss to her skin. He was slightly surprised she allowed him such brazen behavior. They remained there while she cooked their lunch, him wrapped around her while he gave her cheek kisses whenever he felt like it.

Y/n plated up their lunch on two plates and turned around in his arms, kissing his cheek long and lovingly. When her lips separated from his cheek, there was a soft sound, "It's so nice to be back home. I love your family, I truly do, but the only time I got you to myself was in your bedroom."

Benedict rubbed her lower back and kissed her temple, "You have my undivided attention, love."

Y/n smiled, rubbing his chest gently, "Good, let's eat."

They ate in a comfortable silence while the tv played in the background.

After lunch, Benedict cleaned up their dishes and took Y/n to his room for an evening of cuddling and watching movies.

Taglist: @coolepowersthings @khaylin27 @m-rae23 @iluvmenwhodontexist

✨Next Chapter✨

[ari-cuno]

HAPPY (LATE-) BIRTHDAY AIM!!!

To celebrate I spedran a little drabble to celebrate the boys day^^

***

Fresh snow fell gently outside the foggy windows in the living room, obscuring the warm light of the fireplace. Axel tossed a piece of construction paper into the trash can next to him, sighing heavily as pixels buzzed around him. Several arts and crafts materials were thrown out onto the coffee table in the center of the couches, and he made sure not to spill the several containers with beads and charms for bracelets all over the floor, knowing his parents would give him an earful for it.

The little skeleton found himself at odds with himself, a pen taped to the side of his skull as the young boy attempted to start on a new piece of paper, taking out one of his mom's several pencils. Snow continued to trickle down outside, despite the questionable weather conditions the Omega timeline provided its residence. 

Winter was always one of his favorite times of the year. It was cold out and it made him sleepy ever since he was younger. It was still magical, of course, 5 years of growth didn't mean he wasn't a kid still. He liked the feeling of snowflakes landing on his face, and part of him wondered if maybe he should go outside, have some fun and think about this gift a little less. Axel frowned as he looked down at the drawing he'd worked so hard on, crayons and markers strung about as he'd forgotten to put them away before writing his card. 

He continued to stare as he folded the paper in half, getting ready to decorate the front with stickers, tapes, and glitter. Did he get the features right? The drawing contained two little figures in the center with big, happy grins. It conveyed happiness and love, the pair surrounded by little hearts and stars. The little skeleton could recognize himself well enough. He'd drawn himself in his old clothes he'd worn up until recently, the warm coat, the simple yet comfy pants, and a scarf resembling his father's. But he felt his face warm up staring at the other figure, little orange pupils staring back at him. 

He remembered they were orange, a sort of Mac and cheese color he found silly to point out, but the other skeleton had found his little joke funny, and something about that made him smile. Did he still wear overalls? Axel had worked hard drawing the set, finding it incredibly difficult and painstaking. No matter how much his mom taught him, he could never really get the hang of drawing certain things. Despite this, Axel was proud of his achievement. 

“...I wonder how you're doing.”

“How who's doing?” A little voice asked next to him. 

Axel made a sound of surprise, trying to jump up but catching his knee on the edge of the table, a small wince coming from the ten year old's mouth. “Ow!! Aelis! Don't do that!” He cried out, before her words registered in his head. “No one! I'm just- making…something.” He trailed off. 

His little sibling gave him a pleasant little stare, a mug held in her small hands. The small of chocolate and cinnamon filled his nostrils, and he let out a little huff of disappointment. Aelis was holding a cup of warm hot cocoa, little drops of marshmallows and a swirl of whip cream sprinkled with cinnamon made his mouth water. But no, no chocolate for him, he was stuck with warm milk, or some other non-chocolate based beverage. 

“...Writing?” Aelis asked with a curious glint, peeking over in an attempt to see, but noticing his drawing. “Mmm…who's dat?” She asked, pointing at the foreign orange skeleton. Axel immediately hid the drawing, his face a shade of soft, cool blue. “Go awayyyy! I thought you were supposed to be outside in the snow.” He pointed out. 

“Mhm. Was cold so Mommy got us hot cocoa. They said to come tell you so dey can give you something warm to dwink.” Aelis said, taking a sip of her chocolatey goodness.

Axel blinked in surprise. Was he that focused on his word he didn't even see his sister or hear her open the front door? The snow sounded so much fun to the little glitch, his gaze held longingly towards the outside, where his parents were out with his sisters. But no…he had to put his feelings into words correctly! 

It had been five long years since he'd seen the only skeleton he'd deemed a close friend, despite their short time together. Aim didn't make fun of him, or taunt him, or make him feel bad…he was nice, kind…and Axel had taken the time to make him a little bracelet. 

Looking back, that little thing was held together by string and glue. It surely must've broken by now. But, he'd improved his craft and his string magic. His dad had been kind enough to teach him how to tie knots and use his strings like thread, much like how he made dolls and plushies for him and his siblings. 

Axel looked towards a bracelet and a few other trinkets off to the side, tied together with blue threads and decorated with colorful charms and beads. Three letter beads were threaded together in the center of the bracelet next to two stars, the word simply reading: ‘Aim’. He felt all giddy just thinking about the orange skeleton seeing his creations and actually receiving them. Their time had been cut oh so short from each other, but Aim had no idea how much of an impact his presence made on him. 

His dad didn't understand it, and his mom found his ‘infatuation’ or whatever that meant cute. Axel felt inspiration growing within him as he opened the paper turned card, getting ready to write his new ideas in the blank space. 

“...Should I tell Mommy you don't want it?” Aelis chimed in as she watched her brother. 

“Uh? Oh, yeah, no, I'm good… I don't want anything.” He reassured his little sibling, despite how nice of an idea something warm and sweet sounded. The sound of his sister walking off before heading outside barely registered in his head as he went back to work. 

.

.

. 

. 

. 

Hi, Aim. 

If you're reading this letter, this means that my 

m̶e̶s̶s̶a̶g̶e̶  letter got to you! Do you remember me? I'm Axel, the boy whose name sounds like that silly frog looking thingy? My parents call me that all the time! What's the word spelled? Axolotl! Yep! That's me! It's been 5 years, right? You said your birthday was today, right? Well, I wanted to-

Axel paused as his focus was taken away from the card, hearing the sound of the front door opening this time. He expected to see his younger sibling, but the actual person wasn't who he was expecting. Ink exhaled a frosty breath, wearing a warm coat and their scarf tucked more closely to their body to preserve warmth. 

“You should be playing outside.” His mother said, multi-colored eye lights staring at him as they approached, light sprinkles of show sprinkled across their face. They were holding a cup that smelled sweet and creamy, topped with cinnamon. “Aelis told me you didn't want anything. But I figured I'd bring you something just in case.” The short skeleton said, walking over to them. 

“I'm not hungryyy…” Axel whined, his face warming up as he attempted to hide his work in the making, although his workspace was far too broad to hide well. 

“You haven't eaten since this morning, now drink this, it's eggnog, with no adult drinks, it's nice and warm.” Ink said softly, setting the warm cup down on the table. Axel made a sound of acknowledgement, knowing he couldn't really disobey his mom, besides, a sweet drink did seem really nice…

“If you don't wanna play with dad and your sisters, I'll keep you company here.” Ink said sweetly, offering him the mug. 

“...Thank you.” The little boy mumbled politely, taking the mug, temporarily letting his protective grip on his prized work go. Ink eyed the little mess of art supplies on the table curiously, eyelights shifting shape and changing color as they blinked. They took a second to observe the drawing Axel had placed neatly next to the little charms he'd worked too hard to make on his own. 

“Who's that?” His mom finally asked curiously sitting down on their knees next to him. Axel flinched, putting down his mug in a quick motion. “I- uhm…it's- gift- It's-its not done-” He stuttered out, partially hiding his face in the fabric of his scarf. Ink took a second to remember, looking lost in thought as they studied the features on the other skeleton doodle curiously. It clicked in their head finally. 

“Oh! Is that the little boy you met when you were four?” Ink asked, picking up a pencil from the stack of supplies enthusiastically. 

Axel felt like he'd been caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “...Maybe.” He fessed up, his face a darker tone of blue. “Wait…I was four? Ugghhh-” He mumbled, knowing he'd have to cross out and erased some words in his yet to be finished letter. 

“Hm…I thought you'd stopped thinking about that kid for a while now, why are you doing this now? It's been a long time.” His mom pointed out, “I'm not saying it's wrong, but you don't even know if he'd remember you.” Ink said, giving his head a little pat of reassurance. 

“It's his birthday today…”

Ink blinked in surprise. “You…remembered that?” They asked, looking a little stunned by his ability to retain that little fact. 

“I don't know, I remember telling him about birthdays and how awesome it was for me. He told me didn't really know other kids his age and so couldn't have a birthday party…so uhmm…” Their son hesitated, looking towards their letter. “...I just…thought even though I can't see him…I want him to know I still wanna be his friend.” Axel said, sounding shaky and a little uncertain. 

Ink's face softened more, “Ah, So what are you doing?” The painter asked, taking another look at the charms on the table. “You've been working with your strings I see.” They commented, picking up the named bracelet and staring at it thoughtfully. Axel gave his mom a hesitant look. 

“I gave him a bracelet when we first met, but it's probably lost or broken by now, so I'm making a new one.” He said with a bit more confidence. “I practiced more like Dad told me, and It's done. I added some stars and sparkles too, and a ring with a star on it!” He said, sounding more comfortable explaining the layout of his work. His mother seemed a little puzzled, tilting their head slightly as their eye lights blinked to a new color. Ink noticed a hot glue gun off to the side, frowning. “Next time you want to use that ask me or Error, that stuff hurts to get on you.” They warned, before pausing. “Wait, huh?”

“Ring!” Axel repeated. 

“Ring?” Ink asked. 

“Yeah, like, the ones you and Dad have? I wanna have matching ones with him too!” Axel declared. 

Ink looked down at the precious piece of jewelry on their finger, breathing out a little laugh. “Oh, Axolotl, I don't think you know the meaning of these rings at all, but do what you want.” They said, enjoying the innocent and puzzled look he flashed them. “Don't worry about it.” Ink said sheepishly, eye lights large with affection. 

“Hmph…” Axel sighed as he looked down at the card he'd been working on, stumped on the little message inside. His look of disappointment was noticed by Ink, who scooted closer to look over the words on the page. 

“Are you trying to write a thank you card?” Ink questioned, twirling the pencil they had picked up from the pile of art supplies. 

Axel nodded, “Yeah…well…it's more of a feelings card…? I guess??” He said quietly, groaning as the pencil he was using to write with broke. He wiped the bits of graphite off the colorful card with slumped shoulders. “Oh? Feelings? Like…a confession?~” Ink said smoothly, giving the little boy a teasing look. 

Axel gave his mom another puzzled look, “What are you looking at me like that for- wait-” He said, realizing what they meant. “EW. Not like that!! No! Nope! BLEH!” He huffed, sticking his tongues out in exaggerated disgust. 

“Haha, if you say so.” Ink said, giving him a comforting nuzzle. “Here, why don't I help you?” They offered warmly. 

“What?” Axel echoed in a puzzled tone. 

Ink replaced Axel's pencil with the one they had taken. “I can help you write, or if you're having trouble figuring out what to say I can help you.” They said, smiling down at him. “You won't get anywhere without some help.” Ink pointed out. 

“But what about playing outside with Oras and Aelis?” Axel asked with sudden 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇, “I mean- I don't need…that much help…I don't know…” He trailed off, bringing the card closer to him as he thought about the importance of his words so carefully. It would be so…so much easier in person, but… 

“Your dad can watch them, besides it gets lonely in here, and I can see none of the pets are keeping you company.” The small painter commented, looking around for Oras’ platypus or the family cat. “I guess…” Axel mumbled with unsure energy, blinking in surprise as the stress pixels around his body fizzled back to normal, or well, normal enough. 

Ink gave him a little boop on the nose, a little smile forming on the boy's face as he looked up at his mother. “See, you stressing like that makes you all glitchy. Seems to me like you do need help.” They said, a smug look on their face. 

“...Maybe a little bit?”

“Great, now, what is it we're writing here?” 

“Oh- well, I wanted to write him a thank you note and just…tell him how I've been and how I feel and it just…isn't coming out the way I like.” Axel sighed, sticking out his tongues in annoyance, “I know what I wanna say from my mouth but-”

“You can't put it into words, right?” Ink concluded, getting into a comfortable position as they moved closer to their precious son. 

“Yeah!” Axel huffed, “Mom, why can't I do it?” He asked innocently, eyes still filled with that same child-like curiosity and joy from all those years ago. “Well, what you put into words and what you speak can mean and sound different, do you want to copy everything you want to say onto the page?” They asked. 

“Well…it'll be too much.” Axel mumbled sheepishly. 

“Ah, well, why don't we leave the really, reaaally important things first? That way there will be room for extra things but you get your most important feelings out of the way first.” Ink said, helping the little skeleton erase some of the unwanted writing he'd started on. 

“Okay!” Axel agreed. 

Snow continued to fall outside, and Axel couldn't help but feel a little more at ease. “Okay then.” Ink said brightly, “Can you tell me the most important things you want to say? I'll write it down since my writing is neater, haha.” They said, tapping the end of the pencil against the wooden frame of the coffee table. Axel gained a deeper blue hue to his face, taking some of the leftover strings he'd been using, tugging and fidgeting with his magical threads. They snapped after a lot of tugging, but it helped calm his nerves. 

“Uhmm…okay…” Axel sucked in a deep breath, preparing himself to get the raw emotions out verbally. 

The minutes ticked by, and the soft crackling of fire mixed with their writing let a cozy mood form for the pair. Occasionally their cat came to offer a greeting, but Ink shoo'd the cat away, not wanting her to mess up the several bags of art supplies and ribbons that would be terrible to clean up from the carpet. 

Axel felt much more relaxed now, a small smile on his face as he discussed with Ink openly, his mom listening with silent contempt before turning to write down the snippets of speech on the paper in a neat hand-writing. He'd nearly finished the eggnog his mom gave him before the front door was opened once more, a few sprinkles of snow being able to sneak inside. The little boy could see his dad in the corner of his vision holding the door open as Oras ran inside, dragging Aelis along with her, who was covered in snow bits, her hood looking as if she'd been pelted by a snowball gun. 

“Okay, I think we got everything Axolotl.” Ink said, signing off the corner of the card, and taking the time to doodle a little drawing. 

“Yeah!” Axel said, smiling up at his mother appreciatingly. He turned his attention to the card, a proud look on his face. “Huh?” He noticed his mother doodling, “What's that?” He asked. 

It took Ink a second to respond, but the little being flashed a small smile, setting their pencil down once the doodle was done. Ink had drawned a neat little picture on whatever space was left on the page. There were 4 figures Axel recognized easily; himself in the center, his mother and father off to the side, and his sisters on his other side, all looking chibi and happy. Above the cute doodle was a small message surrounded by bells and ribbons. 

‘Happy holidays from us to you!’

“Do you like it?” Ink asked hopefully. 

“It's great!!” Axel cried out joyfully, giving his mom a big hug, causing them to flinch in surprise with his excitement. “Aw- I'm glad I could help.” They said affectionately, returning the little gesture. 

“Did he finish da weird card?” Aelis asked, sounding exhausted before letting out a little sneeze, shaking some of the show off her body. 

“Yeah- wait, why are you so covered in snow?” Ink asked. 

“Snowball fight.” Error explained, wiping some snow off his shoulders. “That I won!” Oras declared after him, jumping up proudly in the air. He closed the door behind them, letting the warmth of the house take over. Error helped Aelis get some left over ice bits off her head, the five year old letting out another little sneeze to clear her nostrils of any snow. 

“Why don't we eat something? Especially for you, before you catch a cold.” Ink said, looking towards Aelis. Error took his large coat off, hanging it up near the door as he helped Aelis take her gear off. Oras had already put her things by the door, instead focusing on her poor brothers little finished project that he was attempting to put in a little box. “Who's that for?” His older sister asked, gaining everyone else's attention. 

“No one-” He said quickly, hiding the little gift box behind him. 

“Oras, go wash your hands, me and your dad are gonna prepare something warm for you.” Ink said, the little skeleton huffing and running off to the nearest bathroom. “You too, Aelis.”

Aelis followed her sister, running past her brother with another curious look on her face. 

Error offered a brief glance, but didn't seem to question his sons little present, instead accompanying Ink to the kitchen across the living room, their soft talking kept mostly muffled to Axel, who was focusing on cleaning up the mess he'd made with all the stickers and glitter and other little decorations. He grabbed the trash can, throwing away his scraps and other unnecessary objects. Axel could hear his father walking over, standing over him with an intrigued glint in his eyes. “There must be something really special in that box.” He said, taking a second to help Axel put all the art supplies back into the boxes neatly and orderly. 

Axel gave the box a little shake, the card, bracelet, and ring inside moving about. “Mom helped me write my friend a super special card to go along with a present I made with my strings!” He said happily, finishing putting the last items, some sticker sheets, into the arts and crafts boxes. 

“Are you gonna give it to your friend today?” His dad asked, putting the boxes away on a nearby shelf. 

“Yeah-” Axel declared, before pausing. Wait… 

‘How… How am I supposed to get this to him? The whole point is that I can't see him, but I want to give this to him anyway. Why didn't I think about this before? Oh no…’ Axel thought, his face visibly darkening. Error noticed, the tall skeleton frowning. “What's wrong?” He asked. 

“...Nothing…I just…uhm-” Axel hesitated, before an idea blinked in his head. He looked away, fidgeting nervously. “I'll tell you during food time!” He said, trying to wipe the sadness and anxiety off his face.

“Uhmmm, sure, kiddo.” Error said hesitantly, figuring he could trust his son enough and not press on the matter until he was ready. 

The smell of warm soup and some sandwiches made Axel's soul flutter, his mouth watering at the thought of having a nice, warm meal after all that work. He noticed his sisters returning from their trip to wash their hands, looking to be talking. Axel would've paid attention, but he was too busy staring down at the gift in his hands. If he had skin his palms would be sweaty. 

It felt like several hours went by with Axel blanking out, his whole consciousness entirely focused on the perfect little present in his hands. The boy knew his idea had a low chance of success, but..if his mom and dad were willing to hear him out, maybe… 

“Axel?”

Maybe he could get them to-

“Axel!”

“Ah-” He yelped, snapping out of the little daze he'd put himself in. Axel hadn't even noticed Oras had walked over to him until he heard her call his name more than once to finally get his attention. “Y-Yeah?” He said to his younger sister, sounding distracted and a little uneasy. Oras gave him a little huff of exasperation. “I told you that the food is ready! Come onnnnn! You've been staring off randomly for the last…” She paused to count, “-Ten minutes!!” She finished in a lecturing tone. 

“I was thinking!” Axel huffed, his sister dragging him by the scarf over to the kitchen where the rest of the family was already seated and served whatever food they wanted. “Okay, okay! I'm going! Stop pulling on my scarf!” He huffed, holding onto his gift for dear life as he was pulled against his will. 

She finally let him go once they reached the table, the oldest plopping down next to her younger sister and digging into the warm chicken noodle soup served for her in a colorful bowl. Axel took a seat closer to his parents, looking down at the warm food on his plate. He would've eaten, but he knew he had to be brave and force out his question already. A few minutes went by of quiet eating and talking, mainly between the other's as Axel poked at his food, trying to distract himself and come up with the best way to ask, mainly his mom, his question and request. 

“Axel?”

“Hm?” Axel said as his name was spoken, looking towards the one who called him; his dad. Error had a concerned frown on his look, mirroring Ink's own look of faint worry. “Are you gonna eat?” His father asked, gaining everyone else's attention. 

Axel fumbled around with his scarf, looking away. “Yeah! Uhm… I just…wanted to ask…” He hesitated, before slowly bringing the little present out, setting it on the table. “I can't give this to the friend I have on my own…s-so I was wondering if you and mom could do it for me.” He asked shyly, fidgeting with his fingers. 

“The orange boy we haven't seen in forever?” His older sister asked curiously. Error's frown deepened, “You're still thinking about that kid? I thought you'd move on from him.” The tall glitch said in exasperation, before sighing as he watched the look of pure sadness on Axel's face. “Listen, there's reasons why you can't visit him right now, he's somewhere far, faaaar away, and me and your mom aren't supposed to-”

“I promise we'll get it to him.” Ink said brightly. 

“WH- honey please.” Error huffed, glitching with slight irritation, before his gaze softened at the pleading look on his son's face. Ink turned to look at him, eyes soft and optimistic. “Aww, come on Error, look at how much this means to him…” Ink pleaded, bumping against his shoulder in an affectionate manner. 

“You know better than anyone the last time you interacted with that anomalies parents-” Error lectured, pausing as Ink and Axel gave him pleading faces, mainly Axel. 

“Pleeaaaase?” 

Error’s faces gained a tiny tint of blue. “Ugh, fine.” He grumbled. 

“Yay!”

“Don't worry, I won't interact with them for more than ten minutes.” Ink said, taking the present from their son as he gave them a look of joy and appreciation, sighing in relief as he continued to eat. 

“Oh you won't because I'm going with you, I'm not letting you get attacked again.” He mumbled quietly enough so that the other kids couldn't hear. Ink cringed, a nervous laugh coming from the smaller skeleton. “But we haven't seen him in years!” Oras cried out, swallowing a piece of the sandwich she was eating. “Why are you even doing this now?” She asked. 

“Becoming 10- or 9 or whatever is big deal!” Axel huffed, before looking away, “It's his birthday…and I never was able to make anything that would actually reach him. I used to make little gifts that would lay around in my room or a floaty lamp I hoped would reach him but they never did…and ever since mom and dad said I should stop I just kind of forgot after all this time…” The glitchy skeleton said softly, feeling his mom give him a little head pat. “...I just want it to reach him in time.”

“We'll get it to him, me and your dad promise, right?” Ink asked, glancing up at Error. 

“Don't get his hopes up…” Error mumbled before sighing, “We'll try, but let us eat first.” His dad said, a small smile on his face as he stared back at Ink. 

“WHAAAT?” Axel cried out, his voice glitching. 

Ink blinked in shock, “Eh- well you can't expect us to drop everything and go now- you gotta be patient.” They said teasingly. 

Axel let out a groan, sitting back in his chair as Oras gave him a head pat. “Cheer up, Axolotl!” She said in a bubbly tone. 

“Ouuughhh…” Axel mumbled, sitting back in his chair in defeat. 

“Don't worry kiddo, we'll get it to him before the day ends.” Ink offered gently, a determined look on their face. 

“If we can find him.” Error sighed, his arm wrapped around Ink's shoulders, earning an elbowing from his smaller spouse. 

***

Aim moved through the pages in his book with incredible speed, his immersion and focus on the story being at its height as he neared the climax. The little boy sat on his bed, legs swaying back and forth as he turned another page. His Unclemare had given him a new load of books to read on his special day, and although Aim missed the way his uncle would sit with him and read the words out loud, this was fine all the same. 

The taste of chocolate still lingered in his mouth from the slice of cake he'd cut on his own a few hours earlier. He'd heard from his parents about how birthdays were a time where those closest to you could come by and have a party and eat sweets to celebrate another year of your time alive. He…didn't exactly have many friends, but that didn't affect him as badly. 

He had his fathers, his uncle, and when Nightmare had left, Killer, his other favorite ‘uncle’ to interact with had dropped by to give him presents and congratulate him. Reading books and playing and having fun wasn't so bad on his own, no matter how strange it felt seeing other kids playing with others on the rare times his dad's took him around other kids. 

Aim had a whole stack of books left to read, all a wide variety of subjects. Some sci-fi, fantasy, historical fantasy, and even a little classic fairytale to spice things up a little. He hummed a little tune, quickly turning into a little whistle. He was happy his dad hadn't presented the idea of training him like last year. The thought of it made his focus cut away from the words on the page he was on. 

No, he shouldn't think about that, especially when it was his big day. His parents were happy too, and that was good…so he needed to lighten up. 

Aim blinked and shook his head, sighing in disappointment as he lost the spot he'd been reading, having to start all the way back up at the beginning of the page. The clock ticked quietly in his room as he finished the chapter he'd been reading, that excited investment finally back on his face. 

There was the soft sound of some sort of glass shaking and moving next to his bed, starting off quiet and barely audible. 

Aim turned his orange eye-lights to the sound after it got too loud to ignore. A glass container full of paint he kept for art purposes was shaken from the corner it was sitting in, one of the paint bottles inside rattling around quite unnaturally. The little boy stared in bewilderment and confusion, closing his book and sitting up. He grabbed the trembling glassware carefully, taking the lid off to get a better look at the paint bottle looking as if it was having a seizure. 

“What…?” 

Aim attempted to grab it, flinching as it magically jumped out of the container, landing on the floor with a hard smack. He fumbled, putting the glass container with all the other paints down, staring upon the still trembling and moving bottle. Did they have ghosts? Was there a ghost trapped in the bottle? He rubbed his eye a little, wondering if he was just seeing things. 

…Nope, still moving-

BURST. 

The paint bottle suddenly exploded, the green paint inside bursting out and somehow growing in size from the volume that was in the bottle initially. Aim let out a shocked cry as he watched the paint fall to the floor, coating a good portion of the floor an emerald green color. “Waaaaa! Oh no! The mess-” Aim cried out, rushing to go get a towel, before scurrying to a halt as the green paint began to…move? 

The paint made soft ripples on the ground, little bubbles coming from its surface as it looked like something was…forming? 

“Uhm…” Aim opened his mouth, but his confusion turned into shock once more as the paint suddenly shot up into two silhouettes, morphing with strange liquidly sounds until the paint melted off the strangers’ bodies. 

“Oh good! Finally!” One of the…skeletons called with a light, high voice. The skeleton looked all too familiar, strange, multi-colored eyes and a signature splotch on the right cheek. Aim stared in shock, but noticed an even larger skeleton looming over them. He looked annoyed and disgusted with the paint on his body, strange blue streaks running down his face. Aim almost thought he was eternally crying. 

“Ink hurry up-”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Aim screamed in fear, stepping back as there were two random adult skeletons in his room, one he knew all too well. 

“Woah! Hi! Since been such a long time-”

“Leave me aloneeeee! I don't wanna be your friend you're mean!!!” Aim cried out, earning a confused look from the two skeletons before him. “Woah woah! Calm down! I'm not your Ink- or well, the one you know! I'm the cool one! Calm down-”

“Why are you in my room?!” Aim said, his nerves not calming down, trying to process what the slightly kinder looking Ink was saying. Hmmm…this didn't really look like the Ink he knew from his childhood, the one that had abducted him. That skeleton was scary, always having some weird unsettling feeling behind him whenever he spoke, as if his words or intentions weren't always clear in the end. Aim found that out very quickly, remembering the sting in his soul when his father grabbed him… 

But this Ink… there was no maliciousness behind those eyes, in fact, their presence was strangely comforting, a sense of warmth surrounded them, and despite the obvious lack of natural feelings behind their eyes and very being, this felt more…genuine.

…Wait, when was the last time he met another version like this-

“Yeahhhh- haha sorry don't mind him.” Ink said, pointing at the scary and big skeleton standing behind them like a guard. “He's just here to make sure I don't get hurt again!” They said sheepishly. Aim had his hand on the door to his room, having been ready to sprint down the stairs and to his parents for help and safety. He halted, turning to look at them oh so slowly. 

“...Again? W-What are you-”

“ANYWAY. Listen we don't really have enough time, so here-” Ink pulled out a little box from behind them. A little bow was on the top, carefully keeping the present closed. “We hope we're not too late, it is still your birthday, right-”

“AIM! Are you alright?!” A muffled voice came from downstairs, quickly rising as footsteps were heard approaching. 

The man behind Ink tensed, “Ink let's go.” He said sternly, tugging on their scarf. 

“Oh boy- okay listen- this is from someone who really wanted to give this to you! Please open it!” Ink said, handing the present to the little boy, although it was more of a toss. Aim barely managed to catch it, looking down at the little tag taped to the side of the box. For Aim only. 

“Happy birthday and Merry Christmas! I hope you-”

“Ink!”

“I'm going!”

“Who is this- wait!” Aim cried out, hearing the sound of a portal of some sorts being opened. He turned around, watching as the taller skeleton jumped through the other side with them, leaving the paint mess on the floor. He tried to reach out, but the scary looking glitches made him hesitate. No, he needed to know who they were! Why did he feel a strange sense of deja vu he couldn't put his finger on. 

“You can't just leave this here!” He shouted. , watching the portal close up, leaving the space around it back to how it was initially. Aim was left alone in silence, his emotions running wild. Confusion, fear, but part of him found things a little humorous, especially as the paint on the floor was left there. He was looking down at the gift with wonder, eye lights sparkling faintly the more his mind processed the information. 

…Someone had given him a gift? Someone he couldn't remember or didn't know? Guilt filled his chest, maybe it was his uncle playing a prank, or his parents… ? 

Aim yelped as his door was busted open, his parents looking tense and ready for battle. 

All they saw was Aim holding a little present, and a puddle of green paint on the floor, soaking into the carpet the more seconds went by. 

***

Aim looked down at the brand new, pretty bracelet in the box, the little ring tucked nice and close to it, a few decorative pieces of paper being stuffed inside to cushion everything. He held the little bracelet in his hand, eye lights large and full of silent, raw joy. On his nightstand were the remnants of an old bracelet, worn down through time but unforgotten. 

He noticed a handmade card at the bottom of the box and carefully grabbed it, setting the box aside. It was cute and well made, little stickers and decorations littered the back and the front, everything from snowflakes to little peppermint stickers was sprinkled around. Glitter lines the border, and Aim couldn't help but let the excitement grow as he opened the card. 

He saw a little drawing of a skeleton family in a big corner, before his eyes turned to the words written in neat handwriting. Aim's eyes widened. 

Dear Aim, 

My name is Axel! My mom is writing this for me because my grammar and handwriting isn't the best, so don't think it's mine! But I wanted to get you this because, well, it's your birthday, right? You may not remember me, but if you do, I want you to know that I enjoyed our short time together, and you made me feel, well, not weird. I tried giving you gifts before, but my mom says it isn't easy to get things for you, but If you're reading this that means they made it! I gave you a bracelet when I first met you, do you remember that? You were afraid of my mom but we took you back home and I made you a bracelet to make you feel better while they tried to find your home! Well, five year old me had terrible skills, so I wanted to remake it as a way to show I still remember you and want to meet you again, even if it's been forever. Sorry none of my other gifts from previous years made it to you, I promise I'll try to get more for you next year if you can respond somehow. 

I asked my mom if we could invite you for Christmas next year, but your parents have to say yes, so PRETTY PLEASE ask them! Please don't forget about me :[ I miss you a lot. Can we be friends again, even if we might have changed? 

From, 

Axel 

P.S. I luv you and Merry Christmas!!! Please visit next year! 

__________________________________________

Aim belongs to @zu-is-here

Oras, Axel, and Aelis belong to me

Thank you Zu for creating such an adorable little man^^

[fkmarrycill]

One Shot: At Ease

(Not my GIF)

Tommy Shelby x OC

1190 words, 🔞 for implied shagging and naked canoodling 😉

I've finally gotten my act together and finished something! ☺️🙌🏽 It's a one shot, which is the kind of story I write the most. In it, a single version of slightly older Tommy meets with a lover from his past at the local hotel–their regular rendezvous spot. It's tender and a little angsty.

Thanks for reading! ❤️

The phone rang while Ada was talking, and the scowl on Tommy's face softened. There were only a few people who had access to Tommy's direct line, and only one who wasn't family. He assumed it was her, since they hadn't talked in a while.

“Apologies, sister… An urgent call awaits my attention.”

“It's her, isn't it?” Ada smiled the canary-eating grin she always smiled when Tommy was thrust into a situation that tugged at his heartstrings. She welcomed any crack in the stoic demeanor he'd brought back from France after the war.

Tommy sighed, removed his glasses, folded them closed, and placed them on his desk. “I don't know who you think it is, but–”

“–It’s alright, brother,” Ada interrupted with a smirk. “I'll leave you to your secrets and consider myself in charge for the next few days.” She rose to leave the room and smiled a knowing smile, pausing long enough at the heavy wooden door to hear Tommy's quiet but terse “thank you” before closing it behind her as she exited.

He picked up the phone. The conversation was brief. They'd meet at the hotel in an hour. He poured himself a whiskey and lit a cigarette, a short break to shift his mindset before heading out.

***

Tommy lay on his back, on top of the fine white cotton sheets of the king-sized bed, his naked body flush from his emotions as much as from their hungry lovemaking. “Bloody hell, Veronique…” She still made him feel as woozy as opium when they got together.

“It's good to see you again, too.” She winked and kissed him tenderly before hopping out of bed. Rather than the kimono he found her in when he arrived, Veronique donned Tommy's white button-down shirt and sauntered over to the desk. He admired how his shirt accentuated the sun-kissed light brown of her skin. She rifled through her satchel, found a folder, and gave it to him.

He sat up. “And this time, you were in…? Ah, New York,” he said, after seeing the first document, a photograph of the Statue of Liberty. He put on his glasses to examine the scene that was captured in black and white. “Is that Yankee bird as green as they say she is?”

“She's French, like me, but yes. And much, much taller than you,” Veronique teased as she always did, being slightly taller than Tommy.

“But height had fuck-all importance when I was on top of you a few minutes ago, eh? Take my shirt off,” Tommy commanded when Veronique rejoined him in bed.

She complied.

“Mmm… Mine…” He groaned softly and rewarded her with a wet kiss to her neck and his fingers lightly tracing the nipples of her large breasts. Then his hands migrated to her full hips and held her gaze, not with the glare he fixed on most people he encountered, but one of unshakable fondness for his old lover. He brushed her shoulder-length hair aside, cradled her face, and drew a light mewl from her with a kiss much less urgent than the one he delivered when she opened the door.

Veronique was his favorite prostitute in France, one he visited as much as he could on leave and fantasized about when the tunneling and trench life got too bleak. They bonded over being different–Tommy being Romani, and Veronique being biracial–and often scorned by others. Since war time, she'd parlayed her connections into a photography career. It was an unusual choice for a woman, but photography was a cherished hobby she'd picked up from her older brother. Besides, she was used to being unconventional and loved the need for constant travel that came with the job.

She visited Birmingham whenever she could and always brought Tommy photos from her travels. Tommy, for his part, paid for the well-appointed room monthly, giving them an easy way to meet whenever she was in town, plus a second bedroom with heavy curtains and red lighting that served as Veronique's dark room, always stocked with her supplies. She knew he used the main bedroom with other women while she was away, but that was the last of her worries. She'd retired from her old profession, but she still attracted men with ease and chose the best the world had to offer to share her bed, wherever she made it. They cherished the strong connection they'd developed over times of war and peace but could never confine it to conventional rules after everything they’d experienced.

Tommy continued to shuffle through the rest of the photos, settling on one at a nightclub. The patrons were integrated, and the band was Black. He lingered on the photo.

“That one's in Harlem. I had a fantastic time there, always do. I'd love to show you around there one day...”

“Hmm…” was all Tommy uttered as he continued to study the picture.

She massaged his bare shoulders, finding an array of knots to tackle. “You don't get out as much as you used to, do you? The war, your family business, and now the MP role? It has all changed you so much.”

Tommy returned the photos to the folder and placed it and his glasses on the nightstand. He leaned back into Veronique’s capable hands. “You're not wrong… it changed all of us. You, so much for the better. Me, I question it every fucking day...” He closed his eyes and let her hands smooth his pain away.

“You made this possible for me,” she declared, softly kissing his neck as she continued to massage him. “And you damn near single-handedly created a much better life for you and your family. You've gotten everything you wanted, no? Why are you still fighting?”

Tommy had wisely suggested to his superiors that Veronique be recruited as a spy. She was multilingual, and it gave her wealth, power, and favor with her government, having the ability to collect valuable bits of information from the high-ranking German officers who opted for the “French experience" rather than frequent the tents behind their front that were filled with imported German women.

“Let me take care of you, Thomas,” she continued. Her hands migrated from his strong shoulders to his head for a gentle massage.

Tommy’s eyes were still closed, but his mouth hung slightly open, allowing his contented sighs and murmurs to escape and quietly fill the air between them. The feel of her fingers waltzing through his hair and across his scalp was mildly electric and soothing. “I've not been to New York yet, but it does seem like my sort of town.”

“I know you'll love it. And I will get you there one day.”

“One day… Yes...” Tommy shifted to lay on his back, and she snuggled close to him, resting her head on his chest. As she usually did during their trysts, she lazily traced his tattoos with her fingers and told him story after story of her adventures in the city. He asked her questions and listened intently until his eyes grew heavy and he drifted off. During their stolen moments was the best he slept these days.

[tai-janai]

ok here was my first run ever (yeah its spoilers.) :

1. pris. gotta see if guts trio is real.

was pretty easy; i tried to let her kill me but that wasn't an option so, drop the blade n leave her

'tisn't. but the cage thing was predicted in s*ve the p*et so im still a winner. i got cheated because i wanted skeptic to kill me, inadvertently making us very happy to be in the void.

i laughed and i got really mad when our fighting was called beautiful. i want to hear hero want to fight on our behalf.

2. dams. ok i got guts trio wrong, give me skeppy.

took me a second; accidentally got hot grey at first

i did not get skeppy. i got oppy. okay cool i kind of predicted he would have a role in pc; but i thought he'd be in spectr3. Oh well that's fine im not too mad; besides i get more of the praise boys being brothers.

i did. notice that smitten was gone as soon as we woke up. i said. "oh this is. pits. and also a bit of reunite. okay."

and i was. so excited to see him. and his face, when we tried to talk to him. i got so emotional; my poor boy. i love him. also i love that he's fucking crazy.

i didnt eat with her but i did play games. and i was like "is this about sex." because it kinda sounded like it

narry's arc ... again, reunite core.

but then i killed her, to alleviate the pain, because i did love her.

third: spec.

i figured it would be the same as we thought; stabbing her while shes in us. i did flip my shit when we were in Her eyes, and it said "the princess" and it was FUCKING SICK !!! SHE CALLED US A FUCKINF DRAGON IM SO RIGHT ALL THE TIME.

the thing is idk what to call the route so i kinda wanna call her/us like. dragoness? inverse? split? some cool name like that.

i got oppy; idk if anyone got someone else, i kinda hope so

my poor hero :(( love him.

i merged back with her; idk if there were options not to

and then,

4. den. i forgot how to get skeptic so i got stubborn.

i went with instincts, because i love hunted.

mmm. big hunted real. growing from making others feel hunted. i love being right.

get out of my way adversary, outta my way wild, now THIS SHIT is hot.

5. apo. idk how to get one or the other yet but i got conty. and of course i tried to run.

and she tried to open us up, and my theory that the long quiet is the construct kind of came true. so i reprimanded her because that lady fucking hurt my boyfriend. and i stuck my middle finger at her. in real life

and then i fought her. i saw the.... glowing? dialogue options and i picked what i could, but it didn't seem to matter.

idk if anyone got the new ending yet, but i haven't either. i got new and unending dawn as my first ending ever.

m going back through things now;

ive found that you can get paranoid instead of cheated if you kill yourself, well, yourself. and ive seen them "Grabbing" (???????????????? ayo) hero and somehow ... keeping him from our choices? i kept thinking they both started petting behind his ears and he went limp. anyway.

im back to damsel now, im gonna go to fury and expand on her in my next playthrough; im just trying to find everything i can in what i have now.

[feedthepheasants]

wip!whenever tag!

tagged by the lovely @picathartidae , thank you friend!! debated for awhile whether i was going to post more of begged & borrowed time or something new..

aaaaand we've gone with something new. a comfort fic i gifted myself when i was dealing with some chronic pain. gale x f!tav. a little bit of mentioning nsfw content! nothing crazy but you have been warned. may post the full version later? we'll see how this does! lol

no pressure tagging @dr-demi-bee @crimson-and-lavender @honeybee-bard & @waterdeep-weavemoss ! <3

"Mmm, yes, that's it," Gale's calm, soothing voice sounds in Tav's ears as the heels of his palms dig into the aching muscles of her thighs. She lays there dressed down to her underclothes, hair still wet from her bath, body aching. As Gale hits a rather tender spot Tav lets out a moan.

It'd been months since Tav had been in the training ring. Months since saving the city. She'd promised herself that, if she survived it all, a long break from combat and training would be her reward. And the past several months with Gale - trips along the Sword Coast, many nights waltzing through the streets of Waterdeep with Gale, attending festivals - it had all been wonderful. A welcomed reward, given how hard they'd fought for this freedom.

But her guard couldn't be let down. She knew she'd have to get back to training again, that the warm nights on Gale's balcony could only distract her for so long - though, he'd worked very hard to keep her distracted. Cooking her favorite meals, serving glass after glass of her favorite wines, reading to her at sunset; spreading her across the table, devouring her as if each time was their last - pushing her over and over and over the edge. Insatiable, she'd called him once, when he'd taken a moment to breathe. 'Devoted,' had been his only whispered answer before burying his face between her legs once more.

Tav wished the ache in her muscles had been from an evening inspired by The Art of the Night. Another time, perhaps.

"Breathe through it, my darling," Gale says softly, clicking his tongue in disapproval when Tav squeezes the muscles in her thighs tightly together. Once again, the heel of Gale's hand digs against the muscle, slowly traversing upward from the back of her knee towards the curve of her rear.

He pauses there as she begins to relax, both hands now massaging the area just beneath her right cheek. Tav lets out another groan. The heat of the bath had done wonders in soothing some of the ache, but the tightness in her muscles wasn't so easily defeated.

"You know, a good bit of this tension would have been avoided, had you stretched properly this morning," Gale scolds. Tav barely registers his voice, focusing on the circling of his thumbs at the back of her thigh instead of his words. A different kind of tension starts to burrow within her, despite the exhaustion. "...but no, you insisted on forgoing a proper meal this morning - don't think I've forgotten - and then didn't warm yourself up properly." Gale lets out a sigh from behind her, his hands pausing.

Tav pushes her torso up slightly, wincing at the ache in her abdomen as she turns, leaning her weight towards the left. "If you're going to sit here and reprimand me like that, you might as well just send Tara in."

"And miss the opportunity to have my hands all over you like this?" Gale asks teasingly, moving his hands to rest on the back of Tav's hips. "Never." Tav smiles, moving to lay back down on her front, head cushioned by her forearms.

"Gale Dekarios, you are too sweet to me," Tav says, half mumbling the last part as his hands rove towards her bare lower back, thumbs at work once more along her spine. Gale only chuckles to himself, shifting to get a deeper angle.

"There are more ways I could use my hands to help you relax, you know," Gale says, his voice dropping. The tension within her begins to pulse, but she maintains her composure - at least, for now. "You need only ask." Gale's hands move further up, resting along Tav's ribs, rubbing small circles against her still-warm skin.

Tav weighs the tiredness of her body with the pulsing tension at her core. She could rest now, try and sleep off what she can. On the other hand, she and Gale hadn't seen much of each other these past few days; opposite schedules, with Tav's early morning runs and volunteer work and Gale's long days at the academy, and even longer nights with the tomes he'd been put in charge of translating.

The ache wasn't so bad, she thought to herself; feeling Gale shift once more behind her, she rolls her hips back against him. His answering grunt in an attempt to clear his throat warms something within her.

A second later, Gale's prickly jaw brushes against the sensitive skin of her shoulder-blade as he slowly presses kisses along Tav's spine. Her breathing catches at the tenderness of the gesture. No fervent, needing kisses - not yet. Just softness. The promise that there have already been, and that there still will be many days and nights like this.