#some peeps liked him so i must provide

[superbellsubways]

some vlc for tonite

[shinjisdone]

When You Have An Secret Admirer - And Doubt Them

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - but you doubt it's true. Perhaps you don't believe it yourself or are trying to push the obvious infatution under the rug...whatever your reason may be, your dear classmates do not believe you.

Been feeling sick so here's a spin-off of the spin-off of your classmates replies when you say:

"I don't think anyone would like me like that..."

Raising his brow, he scoffed. "Ya don't get it. Listen, the only reason someone would go out of this daaaarn big way is either 'cuz they're a total idiot dork or have a massive big crush on you. And lucky you! For you both option are the case!" Sweat rolled down his jaw as he winked. -Ace

"Uhm," His mouth became dry and his eyes avoided yours. "I-I don't think - I mean, w-why wouldn't they? Like, the roses and chocalates...the notes and...mirror, I guess...that's all romantic. Y-You're a great person and...I'm sure that admirer thinks so, too." He wishes to say more but his tongue was tied. -Deuce

"Whuat? Of course they do! Have you seen the talks and Hearts on MagiCam? Some totally envy you!" His hand lowers to his pocket but decided against fishing out his phone. Instead, he threw his arm around your shoulder. "C'mon, juniour! Have a bit more confidence in yourself! Y'know, if it wasn't for your admirer, I would have long sent you these lovey-dovey stuff. Maybe in a different way though, haha!" -Cater

A sheepish chuckle escaped him. "Oh, come on. Don't be like that. It's clear as that day that someone fancies you and there's nothing wrong with that. You get your senior's allowance to indulge in the attention!" Laughing, he hoped he could ease the tension through his lies. -Trey

He cleared his throat. Something like this wasn't his forte. "I...am not an expert in...love and courting - Well, what I mean is that anyone can see that you are very much admired by someone. You are...a very great person so of course you'd be liked. When someone goes out of their way to break several rules like that, their affection must be greater than the Queen's for her little King." -Riddle

Clicking his tongue, he rolled over to his side. "Why are you making a fuss about that? You're gonna break your little head over this, herbivore. Why don't you stop this belittling and confront that little admirer yourself and find out? If you have the guts to go into the lion's den, then you can go and ask a coward that, too." -Leona

"Huh," For a moment, he avoided your gaze and the corner of his lips twitched. "Well, I dunno. Why shouldn't anyone? If no one liked yer guts, then they would have looooong ripped you off or something - good thing I was there all the time but nothin' happened even when I wasn't there - what I mean is, no, you are likable, dummy. Shihishi..." He cackled nervously. -Ruggie

"I wouldn't know anything about that." Quickly clearing his throat, he tried to hide his flushed face, "As in...I don't know if I would agree with you. Someone wouldn't just do this for fun...I don't know anyone, in and outside of NRC, who would do this for fun, so..." He scratched his neck and hoped you'd catch his intentions. -Jack

"Wha," Sheepish laughter rang, "Oh, why...of course you'd be! Why wouldn't you be...why wouldn't they..." His hands reached for the papers on his desk as he failed to sort them, "If there are any doubts...Monstro Longue can also provide solutions for that. But only for doubts...after all, you are l-likable..." -Azul

"Nonsense. I think you are quite charming. Or, could it be that you are playing the humble one? Trying to fool the rest while you are indulging in all the love your admirer provides?" A smarmy giggle. "I jest. But even so, that would make you even cuter." -Jade

Cackling rung. "Huuuh? Actually, yeah, you're right!" He giggled and squeezed in closer into your personal space. "You are such a lost cause, Shrimpy...ya should stick with peeps like me and Jade! Rather just with me, yeah? That admirer-schmirer has been gettin' on my nerves recently and I barely got any time to squeeze you...give up on this landpeople mambo-jambo and stick with me~. -Floyd

At first he blinked in confusion yet his shining grin came a second after. "No way. You're so great! And so interesting and fun and cute!" He almost seemed like his usual self until he noticed who you two were talking about. At that, his grin vanished. "Oh...well, if I can see that, then the admirer totally too! Maybe even more than me since they shower you in so many gifts..." -Kalim

"Well, obviously not since you got a good old secret admirer like from a rom-com." His smile crooked, he hoped you'd at least chuckle but he quickly corrected himself. Best if he doesn't continue to be this nonchalant. "I'm just kidding...though not about you likable. Give yourself more credit...you deserve it." -Jamil

"Huh? What's with that...self-pityin' party - I mean, as in, that ain't true. Yer a...fine and dandy person, I mean - why wouldn'tcha be??? That kinda talk is only gonna bring you down and yer better than that. Far, far, better. Hell, you got a flyin' mirror-" -Epel

Laughter echoed and you weren't sure if it was mocking at first. "Cher Trickster, could it be that these grande professions of love are not enough?! How can you still not see that you are the apple of someone's eye? Not even I could top that! Tell me, my dear, shall I be your second admirer to prove to you how lovely you are?" -Rook

He raised a brow. "Bring me my phone for a second. Should we go over the amount of attention I get from millions of people and compare them to the over-the-top admiration of your one and only admirer? They went out of the way to insult me to compliment you. You are someone's diamond, potato." -Vil

For a moment you wondered if he even heard you. Staying still as a candle, he tried his best to avoid your gaze while his face was flushed red. "...W-W-W-W-Wha-What do you ask m-me that...??? I-I mean, if there is someone unlikable here it would be m-me...y-y'know...?" He hoped you get what he means. -Idia

"According to data I collected requested by big bro - I mean, happened to collect, there is a 0000000.01% chance that you are unbelievable, unequally unlikable." -Ortho

"You think so?" He scratched his chin, "That kind of mindset is not going to get you far. In fact, I believe you do not understand how much comfort you bring by your mere presence. If you doubt it, I can always remind you of it." -Malleus

Laughing, he slapped his knee. "Seriously? You get the exact cookie-cutter version of a highschool secret admirer sweetheart! I read those in old-school manga! And you still doubt that?" He sighs, "Trust me, be a bit more confident. Amazing things can happen if you let them." -Lilia

"Hm? But...you are being admired. By afar, by someone who truly seems to treasure you. You are like a treasure if you see it that way...ah, nevermind me. Please, believe in yourself more. I do." -Silver

"Ugh, really now?! IF I can see it, then you should see it too! It's like you are covering your own eyes! You! Are! An! Object! Of! Affectioooooonnnn!!!" -Sebek

holy shit im never doing something like this in one post again hhuuuuuaaaaaaahh

[wvbaandtheboys]

DREAMESCAPE: RE-DREAMED EDITION!

forthethirdfuckingtime-

Hey punchy peeps, yup it's me again I present to y'all my pride and joy, the Dreamescape AU! This time, redone with an idea I originally discarded when I was first making the AU, but I ended up using for the revamped version! Let's get into the ✨ lore ✨

THIS AU DEALS WITH DARK THEMES! BE CAREFUL TRAVELLERS!

This AU takes place in the span of the 1920s. The Macs live with their single father, Jerome/Doc Louis, having a docile and normal life. Their father works tirelessly to provide for his sons, being a middle class worker. With familiar faces surrounding their everyday lives, the family is content and lives out their days in joy. However, over a tense and perplexing time span, many people in their community begin to pass away unexpectedly with little to no closure on some of their deaths. Hysteria rises amongst the townsfolk; hysteria of a supernatural curse of well known origin, rooted in folklore, that threatens the adult population. And by proxy, the children of the town.

It is the Constellation of Shadows. An arachnoid, nightmarish entity that targets children through the adults in their lives. It invades the dreams of adults while they sleep, and takes them into its dark abyss of a web. It then mutates them, reforms them for its own purposes. Then unleashes them like wild animals to murder the children in their sleep.

Very few families have survived the Constellation's insatiable hunger for terror and demise: there are only two documented survivors of the Constellation throughout the years. Those families were never the same, suffering long term effects that led to either tragedy within them, or them disappearing from the town, never to be seen again. Hysteria once again breaks out, with the message to stay awake and alert at all costs and protect your children, as the Constellation cannot attack if you are not asleep or drowsy. However, it was only so long before the Louis household succumbed to exhaustion, and entered a deep slumber.

However, there is one hope. Father Dream. Father Dream is another folklore figure who, once upon a time, constantly did battle with the Constellation in order to uphold the safety of all dreamers. However, the feast of fear supplied to the Constellation allowed it to best Father Dream and trap him within his own seemingly unending slumber. However, Father Dream was still in control of some of his power. He blesses Mac with a special ability: the ability to resurrect the dead. Now, the Macs must face monsters of familiarity in order to make it out alive. And, in order to rescue their father before he suffers the same fate as the adults before him did. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ With the lore out of the way, let's learn about those adults: WII:

Joe - Chef (27)

Kaiser - Clockmaker (52)

Disco - Radio Show Host (25)

Hippo - Tribal King (50s to Early 60s)

Hondo - Photographer (33)

Hugger - Game Warden (44)

Tiger - Illusionist (31)

Don - Fisherman (26)

Aran - Dockworker (27)

Soda - Ice Cream Parlor Owner (41)

Bull - Priest (40)

Macho - Singer (30)

SUPER PUNCH OUT:

Gabby - Librarian (62)

Hurricane - Meteorologist (29)

Bob - Homeless (36)

Dragon - Lead Dragon Dancer (25)

Muscle - Doctor (37)

Heike - Unemployed (16)

Mad Clown - Clown (obviously shjsjs) (30)

Narcis - Nobleman (31)

Hoy - Retired Teacher (83)

Rick and Nick - Tailors (R - 28, N - 29)

Now, how did all of them meet their untimely demises? TRIGGER WARNINGS: DEATH, WRITTEN DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE/GORE, SUICIDE. PLEASE TAKE THIS INTO ACCOUNT WHEN READING FURTHER ON! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ WII: Joe - No one heard from him for a good while since his restaurant was suddenly closed, so it eventually drew the attention of police. When they went in, they found him in the basement of the restaurant, slumped against one of the walls and clearly long dead. He appeared to die clutching a kitchen knife in his hand. He represents Ataxophobia.

Kaiser - Kaiser’s somewhat anti-social personality did put some off from checking in on him too frequently, but they knew he was in and working when they heard the ticking of the clocks within his workshop. Concern arose when the ticking stopped. When concerned folks went inside the old man’s shop to check on him, They found him sprawled out on the floor, stiff. He was surrounded by clocks, all had their hands frozen at the hour of midnight. He represents Chronometrophobia.

Disco - Way too suddenly did Louie Brown's show get taken off the air. An announcement was made in the newspapers shortly thereafter that the host had passed away. Though they didn’t release details, he was found to have cords of recording machinery taut around his neck, still seated in the recording booth. And with the recording machine on, but thankfully not on the air. He represents Sedatephobia. Hippo - Hippo and his people (women, men and children alike) were quite sociable with the public. Seeing as they weren’t native to the town and after a great tragedy for the tribe, the king seemed to have a certain desperation to be accepted and gain a new home, considering what happened to them. However, the Hippoans were extremely generous and shared their culture with the townsfolk. But, they all just… vanished one day. It was presumed that perhaps Hippo had tried to guide them to live elsewhere, but no one can say for sure what happened to them. He represents Anthropophobia.

Hondo - Though nothing was visibly perturbing about him, laid on either a couch or his bed, his camera was in close proximity. When the photos recently taken on it were printed out, they showed cryptic, vignetted images of Hondo at angles that appeared as though another person had taken it. Though there were no signs that another person had ever been there. He represents Photophobia.

Hugger - He said he just felt tired, and was going to take the winter months to rest. No foul play, no signs of injury, no nothing. He just appeared to have passed in his sleep. He represents Nyctophobia.

Tiger - He was found with red scratch marks all over, which were initially thought to be self inflicted. However, the cleanliness of his fingernails and the angles of the markings made it almost seem like… something was trying to escape from his own body. He represents Rhabdophobia.

Don - He and his wife, Carmen, had been out all day on a lengthy fishing trip. Even when dusk had arrived and fog had started rolling in, the couple still hadn’t returned. Their fishing boat that came floating back to shore, belongings and equipment still on it, but they were nowhere to be seen. He represents Thalassophobia.

Aran - The last his coworkers saw of him, they say he was quietly sitting on the docks with his legs hung over the water. Something he readily instructed others to never do. The very next morning, he was gone. They never found him. He represents Megalohydrothalassophobia.

Soda - When the cold months came over the town, his charming little ice cream parlor closed for the winter as he said he was going to go for a trip to the mountains. After the winter was over, with no word or sign of the man, concern also arose for him. They discovered him a while after. He was completely encased in frost despite the warmth returning. He represents Cryophobia.

Bull - The toll of the church bells at night brought a sense of dread over all that heard it. He was found knelt in a praying pose at the front of the chapel. He was already dead, clutching the jewel of the necklace he wore in his hands. He represents Theophobia.

Macho - The singer known as “Deep Blue” by his many adoring fans had a dark cloud over his head. A rumor mill had churned much devastating gossip regarding his personal life. Some even say it drove him mad. Regardless of the true motive, the performer was found with a slit throat. Some suspect it was a suicide, as the letter opener that cut his throat was in his own hand. He represents Scopophobia.

SPO:

Gabby - Even though he was getting on in years, Gabby always said that there was never a time he felt alive, even since his youthful years, due to the plethora of health issues he had developed over the course of his life ever since he was born. “I don’t recall the last time I ever felt young and spry, if I even did in the first place. So, getting old really doesn’t feel any different.” As such, it was a well known rumor that Gabby read many books to cope, to feel some kind of whimsy in his ever shortening life. He was found dead in his sleep at his desk, an open book beside him. He represents Gentrophobia.

Hurricane - A thriving meteorologist, he loved the experiences of being up in the sky on hot air balloons. On an unsuspecting day during a storm, he suddenly fell unconscious mid flight. A bolt of lightning struck the hot air balloon he was riding and sent him crashing into a building. He died on impact. He represents Astraphobia.

Bob - An impoverished homeless man, he often wandered about with cigarettes on hand. He secluded himself far away from others while he smoked. No one has a clue what really happened to him, as he was discovered lying in the mud. However, it was suspected that he had asphyxiated. He represents Homichlophobia.

Dragon - The dragon dancer troupe traveled to the town from Hong Kong during Lunar New Year. He piloted the head of the dragon during the ceremony. How sadly ironic that such misfortune followed a dance meant to bestow luck. He was discovered slumped in a chair in the dressing room made for the dancers, with the headpiece of the dragon over his body.. and his own decapitated head in his hands. He represents Atychiphobia. 

Muscle - He was alone one night, and that was all that it took. He was discovered in the morning with slit wrists, surrounded by blood soaked gauze. He may have tried to save himself. He represents Hemophobia.

Heike - The once aspiring dancer faced the Constellation's wrath despite being a child himself as well. His limbs were bloody and twisted, yet he still held his signature fan in his hands, and wore his signature performing kimono. He represents Pistanthrophobia.

Clown - The circus was never the same without him. His face was painted half and half with his two circus personas: Serenata the Opera Singer, and Burlone the Jester. He represents Coulrophobia.

Narcis - For the short period of time that night, while his servants were not overseeing him, the Constellation struck. Though efforts were made to enter his bedroom as the realization dawned that he was in danger, the door did not budge until it was too late. He was found with the skin of the left half of his face completely removed. On his fractured bureau, there was a message written in his blood: “The beauty of my heart was never reflected in my face." He represents Cacophobia.

Hoy - The death of the dragon dancer deeply wounded the old man, as he was quite close to him. He died of a broken heart. (Broken Heart Syndrome) He represents Philophobia.

Rick and Nick - It seemed like death wanted to keep them together forever. They were discovered seated on chairs next to each other, their left hands sewn together. It was noted that when there was effort to cut the thread, the fingers of the brothers would twitch violently. They represent Thanatophobia.

[nomstellations]

Unorthodox Methods

yeah hi this is a. very self indulgent lim.bus vorefic with heath.cliff as a pred. story contains a reluctant male pred and unspecified prey, quarter size vore, protective vore, and its soft & safe.

“W-why's it always gotta be me?!”

None of the other sinners would look Heath's way. While they've had to do all kinds of odd jobs for the company…nobody was willing to take on this one. Their client has been partially shrunken due to some malfunctioning technology, and needed to be protected and escorted to safety. They weren't provided with any safe means of transportation, so Faust had determined that the best course of action was to carry them…internally. With no willing volunteers, all eyes fell on Heathcliff, whose face was flush with embarrassment and frustration.

“C'mon, Heath~ Just do us this favor  ‘kay?”

“It's your fault you weren't paying enough attention to opt out, you know…”

He growled and tightened his grip on his bat. He ought to show them he wasn't going to just take this sitting down, but his gaze fell on their client. They looked nervous; this idea wasn't theirs and they looked to be just as eager as he was- which was to say, not at all. His anger softened at their anxious expression.

“Bloody hell…fine! But I don't want to hear a peep out of your mugs about it unless you want your skull cracked!”

~~~

Faust had given him some kind of tablet to eat. He wasn't really paying attention to her explanation, but apparently it would suppress his digestive acids for a while so their client would be safe. He snapped at everyone else to screw off while he…put their client away, which left the two of them alone. He scratched the back of his head, frankly unsure of how to go about this. They weren't food, he couldn't just open his mouth and chow down on them…they frankly looked terrified. He didn't want to hurt them.

“Hey, easy there…” His tone was softer now, gentle in contrast to his rough voice he had used just moments earlier. “I'm no expert, but…I'll make sure not to hurt you, alright?” Heath only moved to pick them up when they gave him a hesitant nod. They were small, but not tiny to where he could crush them in his hand. They were closer to the size of a stuffed animal, but that presented the dilemma of how he’d go about swallowing them. He mulled it over for a few minutes, lifting them over his head to see if maybe feet-first was feasible. It made them squirm anxiously, so maybe not… “Alright, I’m gonna…try this, okay? Try not to wiggle too much, I don’t wanna…you know.”

With that he opened his mouth, revealing some surprisingly sharp teeth. He hesitated for a moment when he felt them flinch, but it was probably better for the both of them that he got this over with quickly. Carefully he started to nudge them inside, his fangs gently grazing their head as they went. He could feel them go stiff- they weren’t hurt, were they? He paused, but tasted no blood on his tongue…they’re probably just nervous. A thought flickered through his mind for a second, that they tasted surprisingly good and savory…

No, no, he is NOT enjoying this.

As if to fend off the passing thought he focused on swallowing, which pulled his little client’s head into his throat. This was easily the biggest mouthful Heath’s ever had; it felt a bit uncomfortable to him but he could only imagine what his client must be feeling now. Despite the discomfort, he was very slow and methodical with swallowing them whole. Each gulp was deep and slow after a brief pause, making sure they were still unharmed until there was finally nothing left in his mouth to swallow down. He breathed out a sigh of relief as the hardest part was finally over, adjusting his collar a bit as his client slid their way downwards. The sensation of their descent was…odd, but not terribly unpleasant.

After what felt like forever, they finally spilled out into Heath’s stomach. This was also the most he’s ever eaten in one sitting, and he could physically see his stomach expanding to accommodate its new guest. It stirred up a quiet belch from him, causing his client to start shifting and squirming around in a panic.

“Shh, hey hey….you’re alright.” He pats at his stomach in an effort to calm them down. “That egghead of ours made sure it’s safe in there for you. Take it easy, I’ll make sure nothin’ happens to you.”

He figured the noise from his stomach probably wasn’t helping. Even though it couldn’t digest anything, it was probably trying anyway…he could feel their movements slowly settle down while his stomach got to work. Good, they’re fine and they’re settled…Heath sighed, the whole ordeal kind of took it out of him. He was going to give everyone an earful when this was all over, make no mistake- but standing here with a full stomach kind of felt…good. It was weird! But it felt good. Surely the others won’t mind if he waits here a minute, right? Then it's right to work.

[berberriescorner]

That girl is not about to babysit all those damn kids please😭

AND ISSSS! If momma needs help, baby girl gon’ provide 👏🏾. The middle child will put in the work as well. As the oldest, Marcus gonna help too😂🤣!

No, but seriously. Little momma needs to chill on her mother. The lady of the house is more than capable of taking care of all her babies. Daddy Rio is completely comfortable with her being a full-time mommy🥰😍.

Little Ms. Mamas can chill. She can babysit to earn some extra allowance.

Here y’all go getting another continuation out of me😒😂:

“Mama? May I upgrade to the new iPhone that just dropped? Daddy said he was cool with it. He said I have to run it by you first.”

“We just got you a new MacBook and AirPods. No ma’am. You can upgrade when your birthday rolls around.”

She kisses her teeth, instantly regretting it as you give her that look.

“Not you trying to have an attitude? See, that’s y’all’s problem. You’re so used to getting whatever you want.”

“My birthday isn’t for another three months. Please, ma? It’s not like we can’t afford it.”

Did she just…I know she didn’t just say that? See, Rio this is what happens when there isn’t a balance. We've created spoiled little monsters.

You took a deep calming breath. Trying to keep from raising your voice.

Gentle parenting, Y/N. Remember to practice gentle parenting.

“Correction. It’s not like WE can’t afford it. We, meaning your father and me. You must be confused, baby girl. I didn’t know you paid bills around here.”

Your oldest daughter huffed and rolled her eyes. Rio had walked in just in time to catch what you said. Watching his daughters reaction let him know he needed to step in.

“Baby girl, you know Daddy loves you with everything in me. Peep this though. Two very important things you need to learn, baby. One, I know that’s your mother, but that’s my wife. Watch your tone, cut the dramatics, and respect her, darlin'. All that huffing and puffing gotta go. Chill on rolling those eyes.”

Your chest swelled with pride as you thought, “I know that’s right, papa.”

Rio continued, “Second lesson of the day. Life’s not fair, darlin’. Now I was cool with it, so long as your mama was. Given your reaction to what she said. I noticed something else you need to learn. You want something bad enough baby girl, hustle for it.”

Your daughter looked at him quizzically.

“You want the phone bad enough. Pay for it.”

“That would take all my saved allowance.”

Rio shrugged, “find a hustle, baby girl.”

“Yes, sir."

Realizing that her father was right, she spoke again, “Sorry for acting like a brat, mama. I understand what you both are saying. If I want it, gotta earn it.”

Dear Lord. He’s going to turn all these children into finesse kings and queens. I don’t know whether to be worried or proud. It couldn't hurt to be both, right?

You embraced your daughter and kissed the top of her head.

“Look, I’m not trying to be hard on you, but sometimes we need to find balance. Yes, we love spoiling you and your siblings, but we want you all to know how to go out and get it on your own.”

Hearing you impart wisdom to your daughter, placed a smile on your husband’s face. He kissed both his babies on the forehead.

“I'll tell you what. Come up with half. Daddy and I will pay the rest, deal?”

Her face lit up, as she bounced up and down excitedly.

“Thank you, Mommy! How can I earn my half?”

You started to give suggestions when she cut you off.

“How about I babysit for the next four date nights? Nana wouldn’t mind if I sat in for her.”

Rio chuckled, “I thought you hated watching your siblings?”

“I don’t hate it, daddy. I don’t love it either, but bread is bread.”

“I feel you little hustla. Baby girl said a win is a win. This is a proud daddy moment. Yeah, that works for me.”

Rio pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. Kissing your neck a few times, he asked, “That alright with you, mama?”

You sighed happily, loving his sweet embrace.

“That’s fine with me, baby,” you responded, turning to peck his lips.

“Eww! Please don’t have another baby.”

“Girl hush and go check on your sisters. It’s too quiet in this house. Probably doing something they're not supposed to.”

“Fine, but can I get five dollars for my time?”

“Y/D/N,” Rio said authoritatively.

“Yes, sir. I’m going,” she chuckled.

Rio waited for her to leave the room. His hands gripped you tighter, nibbling your ear.

“I say we give her one more sibling to look after. Six sounds like a good number to stop," he whispered trailing kisses down your neck.

“I’d say no, but you’re not going to listen. I’m tired of being pregnant,” you teased.

“You ain’t tired of making them though.”

[neetily]

Admit It - KINKTOBER DAY 03 (ADMIT) - (SDV) Alex

— ✧ warnings: Peeping Tom, Voyeurism, f masturbation, Size Kink, Creampie — ✧ word count: 3,798

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

Alex, for the most part, considers himself a gentleman. No, not in the same way that Elliott might interpret the word, but rather in the very normal way a normal person would think of it. How you are supposed to act, basically. For example, be polite. Hold the door open for others, help when you can, respect others boundaries. All fairly expected behaviour, and especially for someone of his build and stature he feels an increased need to do all of the above and more, to prove to others that he isn’t some walking talking stereotype of your typical jock or bully, carrying himself with as many good intentions as he possibly can in the hopes of coming off as nothing more than a kind stranger. Or, in special cases, an affectionate friend.

However, after just a few moments of watching you in the supposed privacy of your own bedroom behind a crack in your door that feels all too intentional to be a mistake, all of his hard work and effort to appear gentlemanly flies out the window within seconds.

Perhaps you’ve forgotten all about the fact that you had asked him to help you at the farm the other day or maybe you simply lost track of time. Maybe — and he realises he’s thinking more with his quickly hardening cock at the moment than anything else but can’t find the willpower to stop — you did this on purpose. Whatever the case may be, his current position of hiding behind your opportunistically open door is an honest mistake. He hadn’t walked up to your house with the intent on spying to you, walking right in without a second thought when he realised the front door was unlocked. Merely thinking Oh, the farmer must know I’m coming and moving on with his life, curiosity spiking only when he heard what he can only describe in the moment as moans emanating from your very room. He’s not simple by any means, but he truthfully wasn’t fully aware of what you were doing until he almost opened your door, large hand hovering on the doorknob as he thankfully remembers he should knock first. He doesn’t, obviously, peeping on you from the shadows like some dirty fucking pervert, and he’s sorry. So truly and utterly sorry that his cock is rock hard watching you pleasure yourself, your fingers diving in over and over again into your little cunt as you writhe in frustration, seemingly unable to get off with your own skills alone. Shame, he thinks. But you look so cute trying! His heart skipping a beat at the breathy whines you let out. He squints his eyes to try and focus, as if doing so would help him zoom in on the pretty picture before him, one hand keeping him balanced against your doorframe while the other pets at his leaking cock. Nostrils flared and forearm flexed, struggling to restrain himself enough not to walk in. Because you look so pretty right now, all back arches and tippy toes as you buck your hips in the air for him, the way your wrist snaps into your cute cunt hypnotizing him enough to stay still just to watch.

And then you whine his name.

It takes him a couple seconds to catch up to the sound, too busy palming himself into frustration to notice at first, but when he does pick up on your implications he very nearly almost falls to the ground, knees buckling under the weight of your words. Alex! he repeats in his head, over and over again until he drives himself mad, vision glazed over as he continues to watch you struggle to reach orgasm. Said with the urgency of someone requiring help, all high pitched and breathless and fuckin’ pretty. He’s more than willing to provide assistance. And by the sounds of things you want that too, don’t you?

It��s not like he has much choice either way, his cock doing most of the thinking as he sighs, eyes squeezed shut in brief annoyance at himself. Fuck, it’s not like he tried to catch you masturbating or anything, guilt trying to reason with him until the arousal teeming his veins yells louder. It’s about time he admits that he isn’t as gentlemanly as he lets on, isn’t it? Instead, a filthy pervert, creeping on you without your knowing like he’s never even fucked before. Like some virgin getting their first sniff of cunt — which is embarrassing seeing as he’s never been the type to find difficulty in obtaining a hole to fuck. Though, the shame that pools in his stomach at his lewd behaviour promptly travels straight to his cock as you call out to him again.

“‘Lix, please-!” He hears you huff, all annoyed and sexy. Pride swells in his chest and he gives in to it almost immediately, biting his lip only to muffle the possessive growl that wants to soothe your cries for help. You’re asking for it, aint'cha? You knew he was coming as per your asking the other day and you left your doors open for him on purpose, huh? It’s what he tells himself at least, puffing his chest out and regrettably removing his hand from his cock to quietly open your door at the sound of your misfortune, peeking around the corner as he does so to try and not alarm you too much.

It doesn’t work.

There’s a quick moment where you just stare at him. And, in turn, he stares right back at you. His swollen cock on full display under its tent as he fully enters your room, the door creaking shut behind him as he struggles to breath from the sight of you so needy. Bottom half completely naked, your bra straps falling off your shoulders as evidence of how hard you’ve been working to no avail. He wants to make you feel better, heart racing at just the sight of your bare cunt soaked in slick.

“A-Alex! Fuck- Don’t look!” You panic, stumbling over yourself to try and look somewhat decent under some light sheets at his surprise presence. You’re blushing, legs shaking as he continues to stare at you from afar because he’s a gentleman, remember? Wouldn’t want to make an unwanted advance on you, and so to test the waters he takes a single solid step towards you. You flinch, just a little, and he can practically smell how horny you are. Won’t you let him help? “S'okay. Sorry fr'sneakin’ up on ya like that.” He starts, taking another step as he talks. “Did'ya forget I was helpin’ t'day?”

Your wide eyes in response to his question tells him all he needs to know, swallowing thick at the way you pull the covers further up your face to hide your embarrassment. Perhaps it wasn’t by design that he’s standing in your room right now, but it hardly matters with the way you called out to him regardless. It’s okay, he’s here now, isn’t he? There’s no need to be shy, especially considering how long he’s been pining for you in secret. God, the amount of nights he’s fisted his lonely cock to this exact imagined view, his fingers itching to touch just to prove it’s real. He’s cautious with his movements, even more so with his words. “So… M'here t'help. If ya want, I mean.” He smiles at you, all cocky and self assured because he knows you want his help — otherwise you wouldn’t have been moaning his name so prettily like that. “Cause by the sounds of things…” He pauses, taking the final step to reach the end of your bed, focused solely on the way you seem to hide from him. You’re too fuckin’ cute, y'have his cock twitching in its tent. “Y'really wan’ it.”

“I-I don’t know what you mean, Alex…” You trail off, the soft whine hidden behind your words giving you away despite your obvious lie. It causes him to scoff, not in annoyance but in genuine affection. The little game you’re playing is a dangerous one, but he’s nothing if not gentlemanly, waiting patiently for your consent to properly take care of you like you both want. A small breathy laugh rises to his lips, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the wooden posts of your bed, cock straining against his shorts. “S'at so? Cause… I seem to remember hearin’ ya-”

“Stop! No, you didn’t hear anything.” You quiver, head hung low in sheer embarrassment at your earlier words. He wants to coo at you, to tell you not to worry! It was the hottest thing he’s ever heard, had his cock hard in an instant, but he needs you to accept it yourself first. That you want him, that is. Feed his ego before he feeds you the cock you’ve been wanting, yeah?

He hums at your denial regardless, knowing that you know that he knows he’s heard you during your most vulnerable moment. Not on purpose, remember! The fault lies with you and your penchant for forgetting. Not that he minds, of course. Trailing his fingers from the bedpost to your sheets, eyes trained on your own as you follow his movements through watery eyes. Fuck, don’t cry- It’ll only make him harder.

“Now, now.” He chides, slowly moving to sit on the edge of your bed as far away from you as he possibly can even though he wants nothing more then to fuck you right where you sit. “Didn’t ya know it’s not nice to lie?” He wags his finger as if scolding a child and your pretty pout back at his word sets his heart aflutter. “All y'gotta do is admit it, yeah? Admit that y'want my help. Easy as that.”

The way you squirm at his words has his cock just aching, leaking precum to stain all over his boxers with how badly he wants you. If only you’d confess to needing his help he’d make sure you squirmed just as nicely on his cock, his hand coming back to slowly palm at his erection to distract him from his absolute want to ruin you. You mumble something that he doesn’t quiet hear, though he has a pretty good idea of what it might be anyway, and he theatrically cocks his head to the side, flashing a lazy grin as he sighs into the feeling of his thumb petting his clothed tip. “What was that baby? A little louder, please.” Always remain kind, he remembers. Add please and thank you. “Couldn’t hear ya.” And the outstretched hand that plays with the hem of your blanket is as coaxing as his words, playfully flirting with you until you gain the courage to accept the need you have for him at the moment. Part of him doubts you have the guts, your bashful nature being part of the pull he experienced towards you, but the more instinctual aspect of his mind is just seething to hear your want for him. His shy little crush, who’d have guessed you’d be acting so lewd for him, hm?

You huff. And you sigh, and perhaps most of all you avoid his gaze, a deep blush on your cheeks. He’s completely enamoured at the sight of you, mouth watering at the thought of just how wet you must be. You’ve been trying to get off so hard for so long and to no avail, waiting patiently for big strong Alex to come and help you, huh? But he’s pulled from his perverted fantasies at your final puff, head still hanging to as to avoid his knowing smile.

“I said….” Your fists ball up in your sheets and he has to fight the urge to place his own over them, to soothe you and let you know you have nothing to be ashamed of, that he wants you just as bad if not more. “I… I need your help. Please 'Lix. Don’t make me say it again…” Your words muffled as you bury your face into your sheets, though he has enough presence of mind left to know not to push you any further for his own selfish gains. What you’ve said is enough if his cock is anything to go by, rock hard and twitching at your inadvertent attention, jaw tense and tight to try and restrain himself from snapping expletives at you over how bad he wants you. He has his permission now, he might as well take his time.

“All right, all right.” He starts, shifting his body closer to you as you still yet hide from his touch. You’re shy, it’s cute. But he really needs to see what he already knows is your beautiful body up close. To smooth his fingers over every inch of your frame, to kiss every part of you he can see simply because he can. And, more selfishly, because he wants to mark you all for himself. “Gonna be nice an’ open up for me? Promise t'help ya real good.” He emphasises his words by holding his hand to his heart briefly before resting them on your curled up knees, tugging lightly on your secure blanket for entry. “Or d'ya need help with that too?”

He’s mostly joking, but when you meekly nod up at him for assistance he can’t quite seem to swallow the curse that tumbles from his lips. A quickly gasped fuck- before he’s carefully peeling the cloth from your trembling frame, his cock matching your shakes as the urgency to rail you within an inch of your life rises to his chest. You’re too cute, so fuckin’ cute it should be illegal. And he hopes you know he thinks as much as he completely removes your blanket, seemingly frozen in place in sheer awe of how small and pretty you look before him. Almost pure black eyes staring down at you, mouth hung open as he forgets to breath for a moment at your vulnerable state. Only pulled out of it as you faintly tap his shoulder, his 'O’ mouth replaced with a sheepish smile instead. He’d apologise to you verbally if he thought it mattered, but he thinks he can do even better by showing you why he’s so dumb for you. “Lay down for me, yeah?” He all but begs, carefully watching as you do as your told. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does when you listen, laying your back down in it’s original position and leaving him between your legs, but it does. Good fuckin’ girl, yeah? Listening to him without even putting up a fight! You know he’s gonna take such good care of you, right? It must be the gentlemanly facade he puts on, huh? You stay on your elbows to watch as he shuffles properly between your legs, his cock so close and yet upsettingly so far from your cunt as he rubs it over his clothing. Be courteous, remember? He bends his upper body down, attentively digging his hands under your ass to lift you up a little. His face lowers, inching closer and closer to your exposed cunt as he sniffs his way down, eyes rolling back merely from your smell.

Until you stop him. Abruptly at that, and he fears he might have taken things a little too far. Sorries bubbling to the surface of his tongue immediately- but you don’t give them the chance to be heard.

“S'okay. I’m ready enough. Please.” You plead, and he thinks he’s never been more ready for anything in his life before than he is to pleasure you. Instantly dropping your pretty little ass back to the bed, rising to his knees with such urgency that he laughs along to your breathy giggle at his display. He’s excited, and you find it cute. “As you wish, princess.” He teases, and he doesn’t miss the way you shy away at his little pet name. He’ll have to use it more often then.

In contrast to his earlier caution he instead carelessly rips his shorts off, sighing into the feeling of his cock springing free when his boxers are quick to follow. They’re barely down his thighs before he’s lining himself up to your stupidly wet hole — not that he’s any better — as he chokes on a needy moan for you. “To be honest princess-” He stalls, rubbing his leaking tip up and down your slit just to hear your timid whines for more. “’M glad ya said so. Cause I don’t know how much longer I coulda waited.” And he’s being honest. Damn near breaking point already and he hasn’t even got his cock wet. It’s shameful behaviour, but he hopes to rectify it by slowly shoving his tip inside your little cunt. The size of which worries him when compared to his fat cock, eyes glued to the sight of his tip just disappearing into your greedy hole. It’s enough to leave him panting, focused only on how fucking small and tight you are for him, not even hearing the way you babble and whine so sweetly in return. He can feel the stretch, the way your walls are forced to accept his size. And when his eyes flash up to your face he can see that you’re trying your best, that despite the tight squeeze you want it, and fuck he’s so proud of you, spitting down on his cock to try and make the glide a little easier for you. He’d reassure you if he were able to, but your cute cunt has left him truly breathless, unable to do much more then carefully fuck his cock in and out of you, each time fucking a little more inside until his balls finally rest against your ass.

Only then does he finally exhale, short and strained.

“Q-Quit squeezin’. Y'feel too good-” He stutters, and that is very unlike him. His own trembling voice causing him to blush a little, winded by all that is you and your tiny little cunt swallowing his cock whole. It’s impressive, really, and he sits in amazement until you’re ready for him to move. He knows you don’t mean to be so utterly perfect, dribbling slick all over his balls as he stuffs you whole. But it’s the fact that you seem so oblivious to his desire for you that has him wanting to prove himself. So when you whine the neediest please of the night he’s ever thankful that he can finally demonstrate why you should seek his help every day onward.

A sharp intake of breath is all he allows to steel himself, though he assumes he’ll never get used to how well your little cunt takes his too big cock. Tiny baby, doing so well for him, aren’t you? He rests his hands on your inner thighs simply so that he can pull apart your lips to watch as his cock slowly slips out of your little hole only to be shoved back in again. Over and over, completely mesmerized by the hopefully less painful stretch each time. And it seems to be working, the little mewls he lazily fucks out of you convincing him to pick up the pace. Just a little, his grip swiftly switching to keep you pinned in place to the bed as he holds your waist with ownership. He doesn’t mean to, but he certainly can’t hear you complaining as he hunches over your body further with each increasingly quick thrust. Like some sort of dog, drooling over you like his last meal as he eagerly fucks into you with precision. Sharp short bursts, bullying his cock as deep as he can into your slippery cunt like it was home. You’re a complete mess below him and he’s barely even started, though he hardly has any standing himself to tease you for it. Grunting and panting himself, eyes rolled back into the feeling of your tight walls trying to suck him back in every time he pulls back. Like your hole never wants him to leave, like you’re repeatedly thanking him for taking pity on you and helping you reach your highly sought after end. Of which you must be close, right? He can already feel you shake in his hold, never been fucked properly before, have you? And the way in which he completely hovers over you, that large build of his working in his favour for once as he shadows you entirely, only willing to let you feel his cock and hear his whines has him so close himself. Honestly he’s a little worried about breaking you, so he refrains from fucking you fully.

“If ya keep- fu-uck me…! K-Keep squeezin like that I’m gonna cum-! He warns, not that you seem to heed his words at all. Continuing to clamp down around his unfair fucks, keeping his cock lodged inside you at all times, his hips unwilling to leave your tight hole any serious amount. And he’s never been rendered so absolutely stupid by cunt before, his thrusts quickly growing sloppy as he struggles to hold himself back, to keep himself restrained. Cumming first is absolutely not gentlemanlike behaviour, and so he slips his thumb down between both bodies to messily rub at your clit, a silent plea for you to go first.

It all happens so fast. One minute he’s struggling to slow down his pace and the next he’s completely stopped, basking in the tight clutch of your cunt as his thumb circles over your lubed up clit, the orgasm you were trying to hard for earlier seemingly washing over you in an instant. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of himself for having you cream his cock so well, a ring of cum frothing at the base of his cock from how fast he fucked you. He’s left completely stunned, rendered useless from how good your little cunt feels convulsing around his too big cock. Like you’re sucking the life out of him, his whole body tensed up as he tries his best to hold back, don’t cum just yet- but he can’t-

He cums inside your perfect cunt with a cry of your name, so whiny and lewd falling from his lips. God, he’s never sounded like that before with anyone, his body collapsing into your own as a wave of arousal prompts him into rutting against your hole once more as he shoots his load. Milking himself dry, making sure you get every last drop like the good girl you’ve been for him. And as a reward for your honesty, in admitting that you need him. It’s the best orgasm of his life, better than anything he could have ever imagined.

And all it took was your admittance.

[mangoshorthand]

Arrow of Time- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Chapter 7 (Hard Feelings Part 5)

SUMMARY: When the mother of all teenage tantrums causes time itself to fracture, Five has to travel back to 1831 to repair the damage. But will he be able to cope with what he finds there? On to Chapter 8 >> << Back to Chapter 6

What really happened at Reginald's party

Chapter 7: His Painted Fingers

As far as the other servants knew, it was your night off given the fact Sir Lewis would be eating with Sir Reginald Hargreeves. You’d had to sneak out of the house in the gown Sir Lewis had provided you with, meeting him a little way down the road in his hired carriage.

“You look simply charming, my dear,” he gushed as he handed you into the carriage.

“Thanks,” you say, sitting as far away from him as the carriage will separate you. Being alone with him in a confined space is far from ideal. The carriage bumps slightly on the cobbles

“How far away is Sir Reginald’s house?”

“Patience, dove, patience. We’ll be there in five minutes or so.”

For the duration of the journey, you make desultory smalltalk, ignoring his none-too-subtle attempts at flirtation. Eventually, he says, 

“I hope you won’t mind, my dear, but I intend to leave rather earlier than customary this evening, around ten o’clock? I hope that meets your satisfaction?”

You don't respond. Any curtailment of the evening makes you less likely to meet Five if he happens to be attending. Lewis senses your disquiet. 

“The waltz will take place before then, I assure you, so you needn’t fear missing your opportunity to charm Sir Reginald.”

You roll your eyes, “It’s just a dance, Lewis, it doesn’t mean I have to fuck him.”

You look up at him quickly: you’ve never spoken to him so freely before, never without a regard for seeming part way ‘respectable’ according to this century’s ideal. He looks shocked for a moment before giving one of his rumbling laughs, starting under his breath and spreading to his belly, setting his jowls aquiver.

“You’ve got a bawdy tongue! I knew it was there, underneath that virtuous exterior. How piquant, to see you dressed like a lady and speaking as if anything but! Lord, I like you more and more.”

When the carriage pulls up, he insists on helping you out again. Le Roy Place is a large, three storey stone block between Mercer and Green streets. Its friezes, cornices and ornate balustrades speak of opulent Italianate neoclassicism. It looks nothing like Academy, but it still has Reginald written all over it. Sir Lewis takes your arm and pulls you companionably to his side as you join the small queue of guests by the door. 

When you enter, Sir Lewis immediately makes a beeline for the buffet room, dragging you with him. You scan the faces of the crowd with earnestness that makes some of them stare and some of them offer you friendly smiles. These you return distractedly, searching only for the familiar lines of one face; the eyes, lips and the strong arms you dream about. You know you’ve set too much store in the idea that he’ll be there: you’ve imagined reunions too many times to count, imagined running to him across the crowded room and holding him again, breathing his intoxicatingly familiar smell.

Eventually, you were forced to admit that your search yielded nothing and the rest of the evening was spent in a state of nervous preoccupation. You were introduced (as Sir Lewis’s cousin) to multiple people, but you were wholly inattentive to their conversations: you must have seemed strange to them, answering pretty much at random and constantly scanning the surrounding faces. You moved from dancefloor to ladies withdrawing room, a peep into the games room and then ended up loitering behind the dance spectators by the front door. You’d hoped that, if Five were here, you would see him enter or leave by its means. 

In this state, while Sir Lewis talks genially to a collection of his friends (two of whom you recognize from his dinner the previous week), you drink a couple of  glasses of wine in an attempt to steady your nerves. Your occupied eyes spot Reginald Hargreeves approaching before Sir Lewis does. When he comes upon you, dressed in a bright blue tailcoat, he smiles in a charming way you could never have expected from the austere portraits dotted around your home.

He and the gentlemen around you exchange bows and you bob a curtsy. After exchanging a few words with Sir Lewis and his companions, (gratefully acknowledging their compliments on the ‘fine gathering’ and ‘excellent wine’), he turns to you and smiles again.

“I’m glad you decided to attend, Mrs Hargreeves. Am I to have the pleasure of dancing the french waltz with you in just under an hour?” 

You look back at him and smile a little guardedly, 

“If you’re happy to dance with a terrible partner: Sir Lewis tried to teach me the steps but I’m afraid I’m still very bad.”

“I’m sure you’ll perform admirably,” he said, that incongruously friendly smile still on his face, “It is the company one values in choosing a dance partner.”  

Before you could answer he smiled  and bowed again to excuse himself. 

He left you feeling even more nervous. 

You were starting to attract stares now. You seem to have again somehow violated an invisible social taboo. Men seem to stare and chuckle while you pass, while women huddled in little groups whisper behind their fans. Something seems to tell them that Sir Lewis isn’t really your cousin. 

Sir Lewis leans over to you, breathing port-scented breath into your face, “Now, I hope you won’t mind, my dear, but Smyth and Chepstow haven’t stopped bothering me for a game of piquet. I shan’t be one quarter of an hour and I shall be out to chaperone you and ensure that Sir Reginald doesn’t get too carried away by your charms.”

He doesn’t really give you much choice in the matter, leaving you with a little wave and following his friends up the stairs. You hang around awkwardly. You know that you have to be introduced before you can talk to anyone and this is a sea of people to whom you either haven’t been introduced or now look as if they don’t want to know you. As the servant bearing a drinks tray passes, you take another glass of wine and replace it with your empty glass.

He’s much longer than fifteen minutes and with nothing to occupy you, you drink the wine a little too quickly. Now you think about it, tonight is the first time you’ve had wine since you sat with Lila chatting about Santi. Other than the odd finger or two of brandy with Sir Lewis, you haven’t had a drink since this whole mess happened, certainly not a sustained period of drinking, anyway. Between those surrounding the dancefloor, you watch partygoers, standing in sets of four couples and dancing within their little circle, switching partners and bowing as they meet in the center. Compared to the waltz, it’s a very sedate, very chaste dance. There’s no ballroom hold here: the closest men and women get is via a linked arm. The pomp and ceremony of it all strikes you as funny and you clap spiritedly along with the rest as the dancers bow to one another, the music fades and they leave the floor.

When Hargreeves approaches and holds out his hand, you realize you’re a little tipsy. It’s strange: though he and Five are not related, there’s something reminiscent of his expressions on Reginald’s face.  

You take his hand and he leads you to the very center of the dancefloor. As the musicians strike up again, he bows and you follow his lead, curtseying with a small wobble. When the music begins in earnest and you begin to dance, a little unsteadily, he looks down at you imperiously.

“Oof…this is harder than I expected.”

Lila had been mimicking Five’s power for minutes now; a vein stood out on her temple and sweat was rolling down her face. She lowered her hands with a gasped outward breath and massaged her wrists. For a moment, she looked troubled, but then she hitched a smile onto her face and turned to Aoife.

“Couldn’t get me a glass of water, could you sweetie? It’s a real workout, this!”

Aoife nodded, the knot in her stomach tightening. She knew when adults were trying to get rid of her. She blinked out of the study, reappearing, not in the kitchen, but instead on the other side of the study door, She pressed her ear to the wood.

“It’s not good, guys.” said Lila, almost immediately, “I don’t think this is working.”

“You serious? No, you just gotta try again.”

“ Yes , I’m serious. And I’m not saying it because I like the sound of my own voice: It’s. Not. Working!”

“Well what’s wrong?” Luther said, sounding almost offended.

“I don’t know. It’s…whatever Five’s doing, I can feel it: when I mimic him, the powers connect like they should. That part works; but there’s something missing. Whatever he’s doing, it’s not taking.”

“What do we do?” 

Lila sighed then, so hard Aoife could hear it through the door, 

“We’re got to hope your stupid brother comes up with something better. Otherwise, that’s it: they’re stuck wherever that rip spat them out.”

Aoife backed away from the door, a hot knife of horror sliding into her guts. Mom and Dad stuck there? All because she was a selfish, lying dumbass? 

The urge to run was strong: but run where? There were no parent’s arms to enfold her; nobody to tell her that she wasn’t as shitty and stupid as she knew she really was. She reached the main living room and leaned against the sofa, head spinning.

When she looked up to the grand mantel, there he was again: a full length portrait of Reginald Hargreeves. Her fault; all her fault. He looked down at her superciliously: she had failed worse than her father ever had: at least when he messed with time travel he only hurt himself. He didn’t put anyone else at risk. She turned ninety degrees to the smaller mantel, looking for comfort in the eyes of her teen father. Though his face was impassive and unsmiling, the eyes, to her, always looked like they were about to break into a smile. 

There he was, the boy of around her own age who’d lived under Reginald’s tyranny; had endured his experiments and rigorous expectations. He and the rest of the Umbrella Academy had been no more than tools to their adopted father: the best they had been able to run to when scared or upset was nannies, a robot or a talking chimp.

She approached her Dad’s portrait. He’d been gone only for a few minutes, but it felt much longer. She reached out her hand, palm coming to rest on the gilded frame and fingers brushing his painted ones. 

‘There’s something missing’, her aunt’s voice echoed in her head, ‘whatever he’s doing, it’s not taking’.

At some point in this boy’s eighth year, Reginald had apparently given up on her Dad’s ability to time travel and banned him from trying until he was older…and the journal revealing why was missing. There was only one thing to do.

On the dancefloor, you shrink slightly from Hargreeves’ gaze. It’s as if he can see your thoughts.

“I think you must know why I’ve taken this opportunity to talk to you alone,” he said, any gallantry in his gone now, replaced with businesslike conciseness. 

“No,” you say, too quickly, recovering yourself enough to flash him an ingratiating smile, “I’m afraid I don’t know why I’ve been given this honor.”

“You’re a good actress, but you give yourself away with your speech patterns. I knew as soon as I saw you.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, feeling your face start to flush.

“You’re a woman out of place, Mrs Hargreeves.”

You look up at him, still trying hard to keep your feet in the waltz’s thankfully slow steps. He stares down at you, not missing any miniscule movement as he dances on the balls of his feet. His monocle is held in place before one hazel eye. You know he knows and the wine in your system makes lying even harder. Instead, you go on the offensive.

“It takes one to know one, Reginald.”

“Hm,” he says, letting a few steps pass before continuing, “I sense some hostility towards me. It seems rather unfair given our very short acquaintance.”

“I don’t need to see beneath that skin suit to know there’s something rotten underneath.”

You speak before thinking and his eyebrows lower. He hadn’t expected this and you realize the mistake immediately.

“I mean…I’m sorry.”

“I’m not offended,” he said, “merely curious. In fact, I’m glad to find you willing to speak so frankly. You are a woman out of place and I am a man out of place. I hope I might persuade you to be honest by being so myself. Has it occurred to you that we might be allies?”

Your stomach flips: ideas of corrupted timelines, paradoxes and apocalypses spring to mind. You may be a little drunk, but your brain kicks into high gear as he continues.

“I have plans for this place…business interests, you might say. So, when I became aware of an…anomaly here, I traveled a great distance to ensure the safety of my future.”

You nod. You know he has plans: his whole life was based on grand plans: always reaching from short term aim to short term aim and up towards his final goal. 

“What do you mean by an anomaly?”

“That’s what I’m hoping to find out,” he said, smiling, “time itself has undergone damage and it’s centered here. For a year now I have been searching for a cause, and when I met you, I had the sense I may have finally met with a stroke of luck.”

You clear your throat. This isn’t good.

“Mrs Hargreeves…” he says, contemplatively, “and a Mrs Hargreeves who seems to know me, no less.”

You falter in the dance and he stops, allowing you to find your footing before continuing. You look up at him, desperate now.

“Then you know that we shouldn’t be talking frankly.”

He seems to be thinking hard so you carry on, careful not to say too much.

“You’re right- there’s something. But I can’t tell you any more than that. Honestly, the best way I can be an ally to you is to tell you nothing.”

He clearly doesn’t like this response.

“Clearly, you mistrust me.”

“Well…” you struggle to articulate it, “I do mistrust you, but that’s not exactly why I’m not trusting you now.”

He draws your eye to his.

“You’re scared, aren’t you? Lost; cut off from those you love and set adrift in an alien world. I can empathize.”

“I am.” you say, “And I know that you’re not above keeping secrets from people for the sake of the greater good. I can empathize with that. ”

He considers, mustache twitching.

“The rift in time won’t heal itself. You and I are lucky in that we have time: based on my researches, relativity has become somewhat a law unto itself. It’s only on the other side of the rift that time is of the essence. I take it you have some knowledge of what happened, given that you are the symptom of it?”

You don’t give him any answer, but he looks as if you’ve as good as confirmed it to him. 

“Then I have a proposition, Mrs Hargreeves: I take it you find yourself stuck here and there’s somewhere you’d rather be?”

You nod.

“Then join me in my work. Trust me with what you know, aid me in any way you can and I promise to do my utmost to get you back where you belong.”

The dance comes to an end and Sir Reginald bows to you along with the other men on the dancefloor, but you’re so struck by what he’s offered that you don’t know what to say. You’re the only woman that stays standing while the others curtsey.

“I understand why you’re reluctant, so I will give you three days to think it over. After which, I’m afraid, I shall have to take matters into my own hands. If you don’t help me of your own free will, I’m afraid I’ll have to make you and I will have no regard for the outcome when it comes to you.

Then, he turns sharply on his heel and leaves, disappearing into the crowd. Sir Lewis’s booming voice sounds behind you,

“Ah, you were a vision, my dear. Quite as graceful as a swan. Now, you and I must be getting home. Come along.”

He ushers you towards the door and is handed an umbrella by a manservant. Putting an arm around your waist so as to keep you both underneath its shelter, he steers you out into the rain. You feel so numb, scared and conflicted that you barely notice Sir Lewis putting a hand on your ass as he helps you into the carriage, only reacting so far as to move yourself away from his hand as quickly as possible.

Sir Lewis climbs in and thumps on the carriage roof, signaling the driver to drive on. You find yourself staring at your knees.

Tonight yielded nothing except this intriguing proposition. Maybe working with Reginald was the best way to get home? Maybe Five isn’t coming. You finally allow yourself to turn over the idea that’s been lapping on the edges of your mind; letting it fill you like the encroaching tide: what if Five couldn’t come? Or what if Five coming would put him at risk? He’d have to stay, for Aoife’s sake. You wouldn’t expect him to do anything else. The idea of them making a life without you grips at your heart. They’d be fine, two peas in a pod as they were, and you want them to be fine, but it still makes warmth spread from your chest into your face. Tears play around your lower lids.

Yes, Sir Reginald Hargreeves might be your only chance…but should you take it? What if you risked Five and Aoife’s happiness or even their existence by doing so?

“Are you well, my dear?”

Sir Lewis leans forward, taking your hand softly as the tears start to fall.

“I’m fine. I…maybe just had too much wine.”

His mouth faded into a sympathetic smile, his voice softer and less boisterous than you’ve ever heard it:

“It pains me to see you unhappy, tell me what troubles you.”

“S-something Sir Reginald said. It made me think that my husband can’t ever come back for me.”

He squeezed the hand he was holding in silent support. 

“Does he know of your husband’s fate?”

“No…it was just…a chain of association.” 

“Then take heart,” he said, shaking your hand bracingly, “fortify yourself, my dear. You still have hope.”

When he helps you out of the carriage a little way down the road from the house, he doesn’t make any more suggestive comments or requests to visit your bedroom. He only wishes you a kind goodnight.

A little way across the city, Five approaches Selina. She meets his eyes invitingly and he feels a serpentine smile creep onto his face.

“Evening.”

“Good evening sir,” she says, knowingly, “and how is that wife of yours?"

He raises his eyebrows, dismissing this line of conversation and sits down across from her, hands on his knees. He allows his eyes to rove the curve of her neck and her half-exposed breasts.

“Is your offer of company still on the table?” he asks, barely moving his lips.

On to Chapter 8 >> Masterpost

Alternatively, join me on A03.  Here is a link to the whole series

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Hiya 💚

Just popping by off anon today to say I hope you’re having a good weekend. What’s something that’s made you smile recently? Have you been watered, fed, and provided some sunlight today?

You’re amazing, don’t forget that 🤘

I'm having a little snack of some fruit and toast before I go to bed. Usually I have some valerian tea as well but I'm coming off a flareup and strong valerian tea can cause stomach pains which I'm not interested in experiencing again anytime soon. Woe is me and my "mysterious illness" that I can easily avoid by eating foods that do not trigger symptoms. Tragically, I work downwind of a food court on the weekends and the smell of roasted meat, baking bread and deep fried whatever calls to me like a siren. Hard to believe I used to be afraid to eat anything!

I have lots of reasons to smile lately. My new job is going to take up more time but that's alright because this is a place I really want to believe in. I've had a friend working there for a year and she's loved it so I finally jumped ship. I like what they do and I like what they pay. It's a job I want to improve myself for and be the best I can be, since my last place had me clawing at the walls in despair of all the bullshit and regulation breaking that went on. I'm really pissed at that place, can you tell? And working at the Faire on the weekends is always fun. I'm always smiling there and it's a genuine smile. So let me tell you a story about something that happened today. It's about a man in a boat and a peep show.

(Don't worry. It's safe for work.)

It starts at the end of the day. For any not yet aware, I work at a Renaissance Faire. I'm comfortable disclosing this because I don't live anywhere near the faire, it's thirty acres of land and my shop is known for other things besides what I've talked about here. I use a different name there, too. There are three jousts at the fair, with the final one taking place at around 5:30 ish. So the streets of the little town were fairly empty save for a few dozen or so patrons, the Fantastikals (fairies) and one very special independent performer.

My assistant manager calls me over to the door with a grin. I come out from behind my counter to see what she wants and she points to this very special performer. "Ask him for the peep show". She tells me with a grin and because I'm down for anything at the Faire, I leave my shop to where this man is standing, in the shadows stretched long across the roads.

Words can not describe the experience of meeting him but I'm going to try. You heard him before you saw him, because he had a cleverly hidden speaker playing Italian opera. Classical music? Something masculine and passionate and bellowing. He wore black tights and shoes. His frilly shirt may have been yellow. He wore a perfect painted circle of white outlined in blue on his face and there was a pin that said "Yes, I work here!" on his shirt. There was a hat and finer details to his makeup but they all escape me because the man was also a boat. Or, in the middle of one. Jutting out four feet from his front and four feet behind was a gondola. There must be a harness of some kind under his shirt to help keep it up. Because in the gondola were buildings. Anywhere from a foot to eighteen inches tall. Think of Venice. Think of beautiful towers and elegant façades.

The man was a city.

In a boat.

I asked him for the peep show.

"Ah, my dear." He said, a twinkle in his eyes. "You're in for a real treat."

He directed me to a certain building on his other side. As I rounded him, I made eye contact with a little harlequin puppet placidly rowing the boat. It may have winked at me. I went to the building and noticed an open window. Putting my eye to it, do you know what I saw?

Two candy peeps on a platform, staring serenely back at me. I told him I loved it and he smiled.

"Sometimes people are nervous. They think I might scare them or poke them. But this is the level we're at here, my friend."

His other buildings had windows too. The tallest had several with cleverly angled mirrors so that the person looking in the bottom would see the person looking on top and vice versa. Another one, an opera house where your reflection was on stage. So many others, but I can't remember them! I was also still in character and interacting with patrons and very much still on the clock. But again, end of the day. My boss was very forgiving.

People like him are the reason I love the Faire so much. My hometown had one and the childhood memories of visiting are so clear and vivid it's like I could open a door and step back into it. I danced with the Queen, you know. She looked like one of my teachers, but I'll never be sure.

It's nice to keep the spirit going. Thank you for spreading positivity, Mr. Barnes. A good example for the fandom to follow 🩵. I hope your weekend is going as amazing as you are.

[bittersweetbark]

Haha, ok - a joke I made got me thinking there's still need to elaborate on what I mean when I say some things regarding my gender and, more so, sexual "orientation".

If you read that and think "duh": great! I usually walk through life absolutely oblivious about other people's preconceptions because I think those are non-issues - until they slap me in the face.

So. When I say I'm not attracted to women, that's not the joke. I'm just not. Apparently this is difficult to understand if you ARE into women. That is the joke :)

And our cultural set-up is exactly on that mind-set. Man = grunt grunt, Woman = sexy. If you're assigned womanship and are deemed not sexy enough, you're a failure and it's your duty to remedy that.

So when I say "sorry, I don't want to bonk her" what people hear is "she's not good enough for me". But peeps - there is no way you can make me desire a woman carnally. I'm not saying she should dress differently or be different. Me not being attracted to her does not reflect on HER, it just shows my orientation.

I'm also not saying "I wish that character was a man so I could want to bonk him" - I do, in fact, not always need to want to bonk stuff. I do not want to bonk my cats, either. And I'm so damn asexual I actually don't want to bonk most male characters either.

Unfortunately this is very much an "IRL" issue, that's why it feels so raw to me. People have always looked at me and assumed I must be a lesbian. That's because we've only recently learned to not muddle gender and sexuality. They saw me being me and the conclusion was: lesbian. That wasn't horrible for me as a "lable" because I wouldn't mind being a lesbian. I've always thought that would be much better, as it would align reality with expectations. But there's always been that insidious societal pressure to find women sexy and BE sexy, and be A WOMAN and it EXHAUSTS me so much because I can't provide you with any of that - and I'm finally at a point where I don't try to at least somehow fit the mold, smile and nod.

And since everyone thinks their own psychological set-up is how everyone ticks, I guess we all need to remind each other from time to time that nah, not everyone is into the same things as you are. I do that to! I thought for 35 years NO-ONE with breasts actually wanted to have breasts, they were a bane to everyone, and people with breasts going "woohoo, yeah, tits" were pathetic pick-me fakes. Life is much better since I know this was wrong, some people really like tits, some people are really attracted by women and none of that is restricted to their gender.

[sexslip]

I got the tight pussy of a sexy Bhabhi by luck.

Only the lucky ones get such pussy. I had seen my cousin Bhabhi getting fucked by a stranger. So I got the chance.

Friends, first let me tell you about myself.

My name is Sunny, I am a 22 year old good looking boy… I study in a college.

I am the only beloved son of my mom and dad.

My Bhabhi who had come home as a new bride.

She is like a firecracker and is as white as milk.

Her figure is 34-28-36.

Meaning so hot and sexy that anyone can take his erect penis in his hand and masturbate after seeing her.

One day mom sent me to Bhabhi's house to give her something.

That day brother had gone out somewhere, the door of their house was open.

It was summer time so I went inside their house without making any noise.

Bhabhi was sleeping.

I saw that Bhabhi was sleeping in a nighty and because of the cooler being on, her nighty was filled with air.

Due to the cooler air filling between her legs, a kind of balloon had formed and the nighty had come up to her knees.

She was not wearing anything inside the nighty, so her pink pussy was visible. Both legs were completely open, so the view of sexy Bhabhi's tight pussy was clearly visible.

For some time, my mouth remained open.

Then I kept the stuff I had brought there and came back home.

The same scene was going around in my mind.

Bhabhi's pink pussy was visible in front of my eyes again and again.

After being in such a situation for a long time, I could not control myself and I masturbated by imagining.

From that day, my view towards Bhabhi had completely changed.

Now, whenever she came to my house, I kept looking at her boobs and ass.

When she did not come home, I would make some excuse and go to her house.

One day I was going on my bike to attend tuition.

My brother called out to me- where are you going?

I told him- I am going to tuition!

My brother said- wait a minute, do one thing… you drop your Bhabhi also at Akhil’s shop on the same route. She has some work there.

On hearing this, I was overjoyed that what a wonderful service Bhaiya had provided.

Since this was my first opportunity to ride with a lady on the bike.

Then the queen of my dreams Bhabhi was sitting with me on the bike, I made her sit properly and moved ahead.

The touch of her soft body was arousing me.

Just then the bike fell into a ditch and I applied the brakes, her breasts rubbed against my back.

Ahh it was so much fun…my penis started hissing immediately.

Now I was deliberately applying brakes and Bhabhi's big boobs were rubbing against my back.

Bhabhi had probably understood something and said- drive slowly na!

I said- Bhabhi the road is bad, what can we do!

So she said- ok.

I was having a lot of fun.

After some time I left Bhabhi at her place and asked- should I come to pick you up?

So she said- no, your brother will come.

I left from there.

This touch had given me a lot of relief.

Then one day when I went to Bhabhi's house, I could hear a sound from inside.

I understood that Bhaiya and Bhabhi must be having sex, let me go and see... at least I will get to see Bhabhi's boobs!

When I peeped through the window, Bhabhi was completely naked.

Her hair was open and her juicy breasts were bouncing up and down and spreading fun.

Bhabhi was having fun getting fucked.

But when I saw the person fucking her, I was speechless.

The man fucking her was not Bhaiya, he was the dumb mechanic in front of her.

I kept watching Bhabhi getting fucked with surprised eyes.

I was getting very angry.

Then I took out my mobile and started recording the video of Bhabhi getting fucked.

I made the entire video of their fucking and left from there.

When I came home, I came to know that Nani was unwell, so Mummy and Papa were leaving to see Nani at that time.

Mummy told me everything and said- Actually we will return tomorrow only, but we will see about coming depending on how Nani is feeling there.

I had my exam, so Mummy told me- I have told your Bhabhi, she will make vegetables for you. Rotis are ready and your Bhabhi will come here to sleep at night. Your Bhaiya is out today, he will return tomorrow morning.

I became very happy with the news of Bhabhi coming.

I made a plan in my mind that today I will fuck the slutty Bhabhi. Today the whole house is mine.

When evening came, Bhabhi came home.

I had made all the arrangements. The house was smelling of fragrance.

Then Bhabhi cooked vegetables and we both had dinner.

I started talking to Bhabhi.

At that time I was sitting near her.

While talking to her, I told her- Bhabhi, I like you very much.

Saying this, I kissed her.

Bhabhi pushed me away and slapped me on the cheek.

I started acting- Bhabhi, please don't tell anything to anyone.

She started saying- Let your mother come, I will tell her everything.

I said- Bhabhi, I have something for you too.

She said- What is it?

I showed her the video.

She got scared immediately and started deleting the video after seeing herself getting fucked by that dumb mechanic.

I said- Yes, of course, delete it, I have many copies. They started crying and one of them said- please delete them all, I will not be able to show my face to anyone.

I said- Bhabhi, I have no objection to what you do with whom. If you enjoy having sex with the mechanic, then I am not refusing. I just want to say that if Bhaiya is not able to satisfy you, then you should do it.

If you are coming then give me a chance… such things are better at home. I am giving you this chance today that I can be of great help to you. An outsider can defame you but I am from your house. You can have sex with me without any fear.

Hearing this, Bhabhi gathered her hands while crying and came to me.

She started bowing at my feet and said- I made a mistake. Please forgive me.

I picked her up and removed the dupatta of her salwar suit.

Now Bhabhi's boobs were clearly visible.

I said- Okay, I will delete the video… but I also want the same pleasure which you gave to that mechanic by mistake.

She started covering herself with her dupatta and said- No, I have understood my mistake. Now I cannot do all this with anyone. Anyway I am your Bhabhi.

I said- Okay, I am not deleting this video right now. But tell me, did you leave the house so that you could quench your thirst with a stranger because of my brother's weakness?

She did not say anything.

I said- Bhabhi, I am your brother-in-law and the matters of the house should remain in the house. Everyone feels the hunger for sex, there is nothing wrong in it. I just want to have sex with you and you also need a strong man.

My words had an impact on Bhabhi and she agreed to have sex with me.

She said- Okay, but you promise that you will delete the video.

I said yes and Bhabhi agreed.

Bhabhi also agreed to stay in my room at night.

First I took Bhabhi in my arms and started kissing her pink lips.

I started getting the pleasure of heaven in kissing those lips which were as intoxicating as rose petals.

Bhabhi also started cooperating fully.

I asked her to sit down and waved my long and three inch thick penis in front of her.

As soon as Bhabhi saw my penis, she said- Oh my God… this is so big and thick… I will die!

I said- No woman has died in this world till date due to getting fucked by a penis.

She looked at me and started smiling and said softly- If I had known earlier that you have such a great rocket, I would have ridden it long back.

I said- Yes, I understood that very day on the bike that the work will be done easily, but what to do Bhabhi… your brother-in-law was scared, so I could never say anything.

Bhabhi held my penis with her hand and stroked it, so I asked her to take it in her mouth.

She refused. She said- I have not taken anyone's penis in my mouth till now.

I said- Okay. I will teach you everything… I have a video right now.

Bhabhi laughed and started licking the tip of my penis with her tongue.

I asked- How do you feel?

She laughed and said- It is very salty.

I moved the head of my penis around Bhabhi's lips and put my penis in her mouth.

Then I grabbed her hair at the back with my hand and started moving it back and forth.

It was a lot of fun to put my penis in Bhabhi's mouth.

She was also sucking my penis with fun but since it was her first time, she was making a little more noise.

When I pushed my entire penis till her throat, tears started coming out of her mouth.

I started moving my penis in and out.

In a short while, my entire penis was filled with her saliva. As soon as my penis came out, all the saliva from Bhabhi's mouth would come out and land on her lips.

Then I grabbed Bhabhi's hair and made her stand and removed all her clothes and made her completely naked.

I could not resist seeing her juicy breasts and started sucking her breasts.

Bhabhi was also pressing me on her breasts and making me suck her breasts.

Her light raisin colored nipples had become very hard.

Now I made her lie down and inserted one finger in her pussy and started smelling it.

Then, inserting two fingers, I scratched her pussy and she screamed.

I smelled the fragrance of Bhabhi's pussy and also tasted it by licking my finger.

Bhabhi was smiling.

Now I could not resist and I started licking her pussy with my tongue.

As soon as I started licking her pussy, she jumped up and started moaning sensually- ah I am dead… ah ah… no one had done this. Ah… it feels good. Lick it deeper!

This meant that even that dumb mechanic had not sucked Bhabhi's pussy.

That is why Bhabhi started enjoying getting her pussy sucked.

Then Bhabhi put both her hands on my head and started pressing my head on her pussy.

In a short while, Bhabhi released her hot water.

I drank all the water from her pussy.

After that, I placed the tip of my penis on her pussy and tried to insert it inside.

But it was surprising that my cock was not going inside her pussy because of its thickness.

I asked her- what is this puzzle Bhabhi?

She said- that mechanic was also not that great and he had fucked me for the first time that day. After fucking I scolded him and sent him away because I was not satisfied.

I said- never mind, now today I will satisfy you completely.

I spit on the tip of my cock and spread the lips of her pussy and set the cock.

I had just put the tip inside when she started screaming loudly- uuui maa I am dying!

I caught Bhabhi's waist and gave another jerk again.

Just think Bhabhi's mother is fucked.

A sound came from sexy Bhabhi's tight pussy as if a cloth has been torn.

My cock entered Bhabhi's pussy completely tearing it apart.

I started moving my cock in and out while moaning.

After some time Bhabhi also started enjoying.

Then after ten minutes we both changed positions.

Now I was lying on the sofa I sat down and Bhabhi sat on my cock.

I put my cock in her pussy and sat down and started fucking her by moving up and down.

Along with pussy fucking, Bhabhi's juicy breasts were in my mouth which was giving double pleasure.

I was really enjoying fucking her.

To stop her loud aah aah sound, I pressed her lips and started moving her ass up and down with my hands.

After a few minutes, I made her a mare and fucked her.

Bhabhi started saying - I am enjoying a lot getting fucked like this.

Then, without telling her anything, I spit on the tip of my cock and suddenly put my cock in her ass.

She screamed - aah aah I am dead!

I said - you slut, there is a lot of fun in your ass, right ... today I will take out all your fun.

And I kept fucking Bhabhi's ass.

As soon as I took my cock out of her ass, there was a big hole in her ass.

Now I put my cock in her juicy pussy and started thrusting.

She said- I am about to cum again!

I said- Me too.

Then we both came together and after kissing we slept naked there.

When we woke up in the morning, Bhabhi was not able to even walk.

I picked her up and took her to the bathroom.

We both bathed together and then had sex in the bathroom.

Then she was making breakfast, so she was only in bra and panty.

Source:- https://sexslip.info/

I lifted her leg there and started fucking her.

Now we both used to have sex anytime, anywhere and whenever we wanted, we used to do it.

Bhabhi started being very happy with me.

You guys must tell me by commenting how you liked the story of my sexy Bhabhi's tight pussy.

[writernopal]

Find The Word Tag

I have so many of these I'm behind on, so in the spirit of catching up, I'm combining the tags from several peeps!

@sam-glade, here

@toribookworm22, here

@oh-no-another-idea, here

@captain-kraken, here

Thank you all so much 💙

Tagging (gently): @tabswrites @void-botanist @sarahlizziewrites

Your words will be: sever, soap, signal, sip

From Sam

coin

From AASOAF 1:

“Evenin’.” I said as I pulled up a chair to sit beside him. “Ye be a sore sight at these hours.” He remarked as he puffed a cloud of smoke.  “Aye, could no sleep.”  He reached into a pouch at his waist, kissed his fist, and tossed a coin overboard. “Kava provide. Be ill tidin’s if a Dreamer canno find sleep.” 

crane

I don't have this word, so instead, have an AASOAF fun fact! Axtapor's "pirate speak" took me about 2.5 years to develop and takes inspiration from the US Appalachian, US Southern, and Highland Scottish accents.

crack

From AASOAF 1:

“Please eat. The potatoes will become hard if you let them get cold.” Her small voice brought me to the present, and I turned to see her sitting beside me with her own humble portion of food.  “Aye. Thank ye.” I replied as I picked up the cracked dish she’d plated my portion on. We began to eat quietly, and despite the meal being simple, it was somehow packed with flavor. She really was a master of the domestic craft.

creak

From AASOAF 1:

I laughed; of course, it would be something simple. “Aye, then a sweet it be. Bloody matches, where did I leave ‘em…?” Her chair creaked, and I did a double take to see her making her way toward me, a small box of matches in hand.  “You left them in the pocket of your other coat…you should be more careful. I could have washed them by accident.” She admonished me softly. I cleared my throat. “Oh. Aye, thank ye.”

From Tori

belly

From AASOAF 1:

I squeezed him a little tighter, feeling a strange and new sort of satisfaction in my belly. Was this what it felt like to be free?

sway

From AASOAF 2:

I squeezed my eyes shut as it felt like the world around me began to sway uncomfortably; then I felt my stomach lurch, squeezing its meager contents up my throat and out of my mouth to land on my own shoes. The woman sighed in disgust as I fought to catch my breath and retched once more.

dark

From AASOAF 1:

I walked at a slow, numb pace down the dark and empty corridor toward his chambers. And my steps made not a sound as moved through that quiet and eerie space. I was not a large person and wore no shoes nor a great and fancy nightdress that might flutter behind me to create some sound as I went. Was this what a ghost might feel like? It must be. The thought should strike me as sad, but instead, I felt happy. How peaceful it must be to wander the world untouched and unchanged by its horrors. Simply to exist as an onlooker with the freedom to say, ‘Better you than me.’

force

From AASOAF 1:

If eyes were the window to the soul, then hands were glimpses into what forces weathered a person, not unlike looking at the rings within the stump of a fallen tree or the colorful layers of sandstone.

From Cass

eight

From AASOAF 1:

“Aye, she be. But she convinced me to jump into a well durin’ the dry season when I been a lad of eight so she be sly too.” He declared with a laugh. “How?” I asked wide-eyed. “She said wells be portals to the Kin’dom of Frogs, and I wanted to go there to see as so for myself. So I jumped into the first well I could find. Broke my leg and near scared my mother to death.” He said with a nostalgic look on his face. 

ear

From AASOAF 2:

I sat up with a small gasp, the voices of the night forest filling my ears instead of his familiar one. The same tears wet my cheeks, but no matter how much I brushed them away, they wouldn’t stop falling.

empty

From AASOAF 2:

But the dreams rarely came. Instead, the times when I lay with my eyes closed became spaces of terror. I started to wish the wind would take me to the very end of the world and throw me over its edge, but it didn’t. Rather plainly, it brought me back to this place, which only seemed more wretched and empty than ever.

eager

From AASOAF 2:

I fell back into my seat abruptly as he eagerly ordered us to move up the hill. He must really not want me to change my mind about deciding to stay. And judging by his current expression and previous actions, he was rather pleased with himself. I frowned deeply now. I suddenly didn’t want to think about why.

end

From AASOAF 2:

The turning of wheels and the rhythmic creaking of an approaching carriage pushed my eyes open. I supposed it was time. I sat up with a sigh and got out of bed, slipping on a silken robe, then peered out the window with a frown to see the aforementioned vehicle coming to a stop at the end of my drive.

From Kraken

hug

From AASOAF 2:

He hugged me close as we labored towards the door, each step feeling like one taken through heavy mud with dense chains affixed to our ankles. Once inside, he struggled to shut the door, and an eerie, deafening silence met us.

comfort

From AASOAF 2:

He nodded, trying to keep his face steady. “...I nay be deservin’ of ye.” “Yes, you are.” I replied softly as I inched closer to him and gently took one of his hands into my two. He nodded and pulled me close to him, but the way he embraced me was like that of a child seeking comfort.

free

From AASOAF 2:

“So, Miss Jane, is there anything I can get you? You may ask, and I will do my best to provide.” I said, bobbing my head at her. “How do I know I can trust you?” “Because I trust you.” I replied softly, “Miss Jane, I will take whatever you tell me as unadulterated fact. So, since I believe you, you are free to also believe me. I’m rather uncomplicated, you see.”

flower

From AASOAF 1:

I sighed quietly as another knock came at the door, removed my apron, and then wiped my hands clean of pollen from my flower-arranging escapades. My skill had greatly improved at the task now that I had been doing it for a few years. I hadn’t forgotten how the first arrangement I put together was tossed straight out the window by Lady Price, claiming it was the ugliest thing she had ever seen.

[easy-goer-db]

All characters are adults and fictional.

I lay there in my impossibly thick diaper that was now completely drenched.

My mind was totally blank.

I was still trying to put the pieces together and Paulina was so many steps ahead of me.

She was always an excellent domme when we played. She knew just how to press my buttons.

But now she had all the buttons at her disposal.

I provided all the tools. She just had to use them.

Oh no. I hadn’t even considered…

“All this exercise for the little diaper baby with his humpies. You must be hungry.”

Unable to communicate through my paci gag, all I could do was nod.

I wasn’t hungry, but what choice did I have? I was at her mercy.

“Mmmm. Let’s get some num nums in that tum tums.”

She leaned over and gave me some tummy kisses before standing up.

She yanked my leash again.

“Come on baby boy. Let’s go to the kitchen.”

I rolled onto all fours again ready to crawl in front of her. She yanked my leash.

“Bad baby! Mommy didn’t see you could crawl yet.”

She bent over and swatted my padded bum.

“Obey! Now get in front me, but don’t you dare start crawling to the kitchen til Mommy says it’s ok. Understand little dumb diaper baby?”

I nodded and got in front of her. I was kind of expecting another kick to get me going. Instead she bent over and slid her fingers into the leg guard of my gigantic diaper.

“Just a little check. Hahaha. You are such a little pee pee pants. Helplessly filling up his diapee for Mommy. Good thing I put so many layers on you. Ok, crawl to the kitchen baby.”

Thankfully my apartment isn’t that big. It wasn’t a very long crawl to the kitchen. Those floors really take a toll on your knees though. It wasn’t very comfortable.

She yanked my leash as soon we got to the kitchen.

“Stop baby pants. Put that padded bum down.”

I sat down with an audible squish. She heard.

“Oh goodness. What a little stupid sogger. Ok little baby. Mommy is going to take our your paci gag, but I don’t want to hear a single peep out of you unless I ask you a question. You’ve already done lots of peeping in your diapee. Understand?”

I nodded.

“Good baby.”

She leaned over to undo the gag. It had only been on for a few minutes, but I was grateful to get it off. Why’d I buy such a big pacifier?

“Baby boy must be so hungee. That’s why he’s been so good for Mommy. And Mommy has just the thing to fill that tummy.”

She opened up the cabinet above the sink. I had ordered a few boxes of baby food and there they were lined up like they were on a grocery shelf. Jar after jar facing outward. I hadn’t arranged them like that. Like I said before, she was leaps and bounds ahead of me.

“Who bought all this baby food? Hmmm…?”

“I did Mommy.”

“There’s just so much of it. Does someone wuv his little mushies?”

“Yes Mommy.”

She yanked my leash.

“Yes Mommy, what?” She demanded.

“Yes Mommy, I love baby food.”

I really didn’t. I’d always buy too much. Eat the fruity ones and end up throwing out the rest. But I just liked having the threat of the vegetables and meats around. You know, for the vibes. But this was not for the vibes. I had a bad feeling.

“Hmmm…well if my little diaper loser loves his baby food. Then I guess I’m just going to make him a nice meal. Now, which flavours to choose…”

I could only sit there and look up as Paulina grabbed 4 jars off the shelf. She took a close look at each one before placing them down on the counter. I really couldn’t tell what she’d grabbed. She pulled out a plastic bowl that we used for candy and found a takeout plastic spoon that had been kicking around the apartment forever.

“These really aren’t a appropriate for a wittle loser baby boy. But they’ll have to do for now. Let’s make a meal for the hungry huggie baby.”

She opened each jar and scooped their contents into the bowl. I could hear her giggling and she mixed them around.

“All done. Yum yum. This is going to be such a great treat for my baby boy. Do you want to know what Mommy made you?”

“Yes Mommy.”

“Well I found some yummy peas, some strained carrots, strained sweet potato, and chicken. Mommy made you a nice mushy stew. What do you say to Mommy?”

“Thank you Mommy.”

She yanked my leash again. Gosh, I’ve really got to be better at this.

“Thank you Mommy for what?”

“Thank you Mommy for making me a yummy stew.”

“You’re welcome baby boy. Ok stay right there.”

She put down my leash and sauntered out of the room while I just sat there on the floor looking up at the bowl of disgustingness that was awaiting me. As I was lost in that thought, I heard her footsteps coming up behind me.

“Okay. We just needed a few more things before baby’s feeding time.”

With that I felt her arms go over my shoulders as a piece of fabric covered my throat and chest. I swiftly felt it get connected behind my neck. Of course, a bib. That’s not a surprise. I looked down to see which one she picked. In big block baby letters it read, “Messy Eater”. Honestly, it was one of my favourite purchases. I always felt so embarrassed when I’d wear it.

She was still behind me.

“Ok. Just one more thing.”

One more thing? What else could she need? I didn’t need to play that guessing game for long as I felt another piece of fabric wrap around my face and get fastened behind my head. She busted out the blindfold. She loved using that blindfold when we’d engage in sensory play.

“Perfect! Such a well behaved baby boy for Mommy. You stay right where you are on your little diaper bum.”

I did as I was told.

I heard a chair pull up right in front of me. The front legs of the chair pushed right up against my diaper. Paulina’s legs were firmly planted behind me on either side. She grabbed my hands and fastened the rings of the padded mittens to the legs of her chair. She could easily control me with her heels on my back and my hands fastened below her.

“My little sog monster isn’t going anywhere, is he? Is baby ready for his nums?”

“Yes Mommy. Pwease feeds me.”

No yank on the leash. Ok. I’m getting this.

“Okay. Open wide…her comes the airplane.”

I don’t need to tell you how gross that first bite was. I gagged. I couldn’t help it. It especially didn’t help that 2nd spoonful came soaring in just moments later. Being blindfolded, I had no idea when the next disgusting lump of mush was destined for my mouth. She was expertly changing her rhythm, so it was awful surprise after awful surprise. I was gagging, I was drooling, I was trying to move. She had me all locked up though. As the feeding went on, she stopped aiming for my mouth. I was getting mush on my chin, my nose, my cheeks, my neck. Everywhere. She was always making a point to scoop those bits off and direct them back to my mouth. But I could tell that I was covered in mush. Finally the constant attack of the spoon stopped.

“Such a good baby eating all is his yum yums for Mommy. He’s going to grow up to be such a stwong man. Not a little diaper loser. Ok, let’s finish your meal.”

Finish?

Once again. No time to linger on questions as a nipple was jammed into my mouth. Oh yes. Back to the suckling.

“Yum yum. Such a thirsty baby. He needs to wash down his mushies. 5 minutes baby boy…or else.”

I really didn’t want to test what all else meant. So the frantic suckling started. It tasted like that thick milk again. I could tell that I was making progress as Paulina held the bottle in my mouth. I felt that familiar sense of air coming through the nipple. Nice, I was getting good drinking these bottles.

“Wow! Little diaper baby drank that so fast. You must be so thirsty. Here.”

One bottle was swapped out. Another was swapped in. It was the milky substance again.

“I think 5 minutes is too much for my little baba sucker. 4 minutes this time baby boy.”

I didn’t know if it was possible to suckle faster. But believe me, I tried. Paulina started fidgeting the bottle around, so it was hard to stay latched on the nipple. I thought I was still doing well. Then the countdown started.

“10, 9, 8…”

Suckle suckle suckle.

“5, 4, 3…”

Suckling as hard as I can.

“Times up baba boy! You didn’t finish. What a little dummy. Can’t even finish his baba or stay clean during his feeding.” She mocked.

I tried to squirm away, but I couldn’t.

Two things happened simultaneously.

I once again uncontrollably wet my diaper.

And then I heard the familiar.

Click.

Her hands went behind my head to remove the blindfold.

The first thing I saw was her phone screen.

She’d snapped a picture of me wearing a bib, covered in baby food and filling my diaper.

“Oh. The girls will think this is one is so cute. Maybe it’ll even be the cover of our baby picture album!”

Oh god.

“Now, you need to be punished for not finishing your baba on time. I think the girls would really like a video of you telling them how much you love your baby food and how you are such a messy eater. Now, I’m going to press record and you’re going to tell them and you’re going to tell them in baby talk.”

Oh no. This is way more than I bargained for.

“Ok babykins. I’m recording. What do you love?”

“I wuv my baby foods dat Mommy makes me.”

“If you love it so much then why is so much on your face and your bib?”

“Because I a messy eata.”

“Awww. Just like your little bibby says. What happened to your diapee after Mommy fed you?”

“I mades a tinkle in my diapee.”

“And why are you in diapers baby boy?”

“Because I wittle diapee woser.”

“Hahaha. Good baby.”

She put her phone down.

“Awww. Such a good baby for Mommy. Okay, maybe you deserve a little treat.”

Paulina stood up. She detached the mittens from the leg of the chair. She grabbed the leash again.

“Ok baby. Turn around for Mommy. We’re going to crawl back to the living room. Well you’re going to crawl. Hehe.”

I turned around. As I got up on my hands and knees, I could really feel how droopy my diaper was getting. No more time to ponder as I got a smack on my squishy bum.

“Ok baby waybe. Crawl for Mommy.”

I started to move forward. The diaper was heavier and was getting bulkier. It was even hard to crawl. My knees were being pushed out. The mittens and booties did not help with getting traction. Paulina was giggling behind.

“Oh my gosh. My little baby can barely cwawl.”

As I was struggling to physically keep moving forward, something else stopped me. The floodgates opened again. I couldn’t crawl and wet. I just stopped as I filled my diaper again.

Paulina knew, but the theme of the day is no secrets.

“What’s the matter little loser? Why’d you stop?”

“I wet my diapee Mommy.”

“Hahahahaha. Again? You’re a little fire hydrant, aren’t you? Who is Mommy’s little pissy pamper pants?”

“I am Mommy. I’m a little pamper pisser.”

“Haha. Well at least you know what you are. Okay. Enough stalling. Keep crawling.”

It just took a few moments until we were in the living room in front of the sofa. I got the familiar yank on my leash.

“Bum down baby boy.”

There was the squish again. And another giggle from Paulina.

She sat down on the sofa and took off her shirt. That was a sight for sore eyes. She proceeded to unhook her bra. Oooh. This could be good.

“Alright baby boy. Time for your treat. Come up here and lay across Mommy’s lap.”

She reached down to put her hands under my armpits, so my booties didn’t spike me too much as I clumsily climbed up on her lap. She laid me down across her legs on my back. What happened next had only ever been a fantasy. With her hand behind my head, she guided my face towards her breast. I knew exactly what to do. No need for instruction. I latched right onto her nipple.

“Awww. Did the baby want Mommy’s boobie in his mouth? Is that why he’s been so fussy lately? Did he just want to be in his diapee sucking on Mommy’s titties?”

I could only make muffled sounds as I sucked away at Paulina’s nipple. But they were affirmative.

“So my wittle diaper baby wants to be a boobie sucker?”

“Mmmhmmhmmm.”

“Wow. So you’re an even bigger baby than I thought? Interesting.”

She used her other hand to start rubbing the front of my saturated diaper.

“So I’m going to have treat you like an even bigger baby, aren’t I? Hmmm. My little diaper loser might just have to be even littler. Hmmm?”

She kept rubbing the front of my diaper. Going faster.

“Do I need to get you a playpen? Does baby need a crib? Oh? Do we need to build a nursery for you? Is that we need?”

I started squirming. I didn’t want to admit, but I loved the feeling of her nipple in my mouth. I loved what she was doing to my diaper. I was so close.

“Mmmmhmmmmommmyhmph.”

She clutched at the front of my diaper and gave me 3 deep rubs. I exploded. We both knew.

“Awweee. Did diaper baby make another cum cum in his diapee? Is it because you liked what Mommy was saying?”

I didn’t want to unlatch.

“Mmmhmmmmmmm.”

“Oh my god. You are so pathetic. You just want to be Mommy’s little diaper filling dummy…”

She let that hang in the air for just a beat.

“Hahahaha. Ok. You got it diaper dummy. You’re going to be my diaper loser for ever. For. Ever.”

And then it happened again. Another burst of pee into my padding. Speaking of bursting…I could tell right away, but there was nothing I could do. I tried to squirm off her lap. It was too late. I was leaking.

“Ewww! Are you leaking on me? Bad baby! Is that you thank Mommy for giving you a treat?”

Before I could even unlatch to get out an I’m sorry, she pushed me off her lap sending me tumbling to the floor with urine trickling down my legs.

“I put my little diaper loser in such a thick diapee and he’s already leaking through. You are such a pee pee pants! Get on your hands and knees.”

She sprung off the sofa. She grabbed the leash and shortened it to pull me right at her heel. She tugged and started dragging me to the bedroom.

“Let’s go soggy pants. Keep up! We need to get that diapee changed before you make a big mess.”

I tried desperately to keep up, but I could barely move. The constant yanking of the leash throwing me off balance. It felt like an eternity getting to the bedroom. When we finally arrived.

“Don’t you dare put that soggy bum down on the floor. I don’t want to deal with any more dumb baby messes. You stay perfectly still.”

It’s all I could do. I still felt pee trickling down the inside of my thighs. This was beyond humiliating.

She went into one of the storage bins and pulled out one of my changing mats. They were impulse buys that I never really used. But I’d never been in a situation like this.

“It’s so pathetic that my wittle diaper loser floods his diapers so much that Mommy needs to use a changing mat.”

She spread the changing mat on the bed. She yanked my leash again.

“Get up there diaper dummy. Mommy has to change you.”

I obediently and awkwardly got up on the bed. Trying to ignore the spikes pressuring my feet. As I got my hands up on the bed, I got a very firm smack on the bum.

“Bad baby! You need to be punished again! But let’s get you changed first. Get on your back crinkle butt.”

I laid across my changing mat with my legs splayed open by the wet bulk wrapped around my crotch. Paulina went to work untaping layer after layer.

“What am I going to do with you? 8 diapers wasn’t enough to keep you from being a little loser leaker? 8? Now I know why you ordered so many, because you are just a super soaker.”

She finally got all the layers of diapers off me. Into a garbage bag they went. There I was. Covered in wet baby powder and oil. Totally exposed waiting for my girlfriend to re-diaper me. And I was going to wait for a little longer. She took the garbage bag and left the room.

She yelled back from the kitchen.

“We’re going to have to my get my diaper dummy a diaper pail. Even though you’ll fill that up too! So pathetic.”

My walls aren’t super thin. But they are thin enough that I wondered if the neighbours heard that. No time to consider that. Paulina came back into the room with her hands full. In each hand was a full bottle with what looked like the apple juice from earlier. She shoved one into my mouth.

“4 minutes baba boy!”

I started to suckle.

“If you keep wetting like this, Mommy is going to have make sure you get lots of fluids. Okay. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

I’d be lying if the cleanup was not kind of enjoyable. The feeling of soft wipes going up and down my lower body. Extra focus on my inner thighs and diaper area. I felt very loved even though Paulina had a massive scowl on her face.

“Okay little loser. All clean!” She cooed condescendingly.

“Now, what are we going to do about your little leaky loser habit? Hmmm…what do you think diaper dummy?”

“I tink a thick diapee Mommy…”

“I just had you in a thick diaper? Do you need an even thicker diaper?”

“Yes Mommy, I needs a ticker diapee.”

“Hahaha. Ok pamper pants.”

The powdering and oiling was not as thorough as my first diapering. But it was still a copious amount. The second I finished my bottle, she shoved another one in my mouth.

“4 minutes baby boy.”

I didn’t need the reminder, but I went straight to work suckling. She went straight to work applying diaper after diaper. I buy them a size up to accomplish multiple layer diaperings. If her plan is to go over 8 layers, one size up might not be enough.

Diaper after diaper after diaper.

I lost count.

She didn’t.

When the powder settled, she took a step back to admire her work. I was completely immobilized.

“I know a wittle dummy like you probably can’t count this high. But you are now wearing 12 diapers! 12! An entire bag. And you know what…I don’t think that’s enough.”

Out came the cloth diapers. She managed to fasten 2 more on me.

She took another step back to look me over.

“Hmmm…just one more think for my dumb diaper baby.”

Oh no. No, no. Not the…

I felt the rustle around my booties. The elastic leg holes making their way up my legs.

The plastic pants.

There was going to be no leaking. But there was going to be a lot of sweating.

“Hips up babykins.”

And just like that the pink plastic pants were snapped over my massive diaper.

“Awww. Look how cute you are. Kick your little baby legs for me. I want to hear the rustles and the crinkles of my little leaky loser.”

I did as I was told. It was really hard. I could barely move my legs.

Out came the phone again.

“Time for another punishment baby. Let’s make another video, but first…”

Click.

“Another one for the wittle baby album! Ok baby. You are going to tell everyone why you’re in such a thick diapee. Understand?”

“Yes Mommy.”

“Ok. I’m recording. Baby boy, how’d you end up in such a thick diapee and plastic panties?”

“Because I weaked in my diapee.”

“You leaked? In such a thick diaper? Why?”

“Cause I just a dumb potty pants baby Mommy.”

“How long do you think you’ll keep this diapee dry?”

“I…” I trailed off. As if on cue, I wet my brand new diaper.

“What happened baby?”

“I wet my diapee Mommy.”

“Hahaha. Already. See what I’m dealing with girls? My goodness.”

She put her phone away.

“This is so much fun taking care of a big dumb diaper boy. And it’s only going to get more fun.”

She left the room and went back to the kitchen. Two more bottles and the paci gag in hand. Paulina shoved the bottle in my mouth.

“4 minutes baby boy.”

She looked at her watch.

“Oh goodness. Look at the time. We need to get the sweepy dumb diaper baby to bed.”

It was barely 6pm. But I was in no position to object.

“Hmmm…what should the widdle baby wear to bed?”

She knew. She knew exactly what she was going to do. She made a straight line for the footed jammies. She picked out one with animal prints and a drop seat on the back. I was pretty grateful that my booties were removed. But my feet were encased by the jammies in no time. The mittens stayed on, but she managed to get my arms into the jammies. My collar and leash stayed on. She hitched the leash to the bed.

“We can’t have you going anywhere. My little dumb baby won’t be escaping this and getting in twouble.”

I wasn’t going to be much of an escape artist with locking mittens and diapers too thick to allow me to move at any kind of speed.

“Up on all fours baby pants.”

It was a struggle. But I got there. She pulled the drop seat down on my jammies.

Click.

“Another picy wicky of my itty bitty baby. We’re already got so many! Okay baby lie down on your side.”

I did as I was told. I felt her come into bed behind me. She wrapped one leg around my waist. She slid her other hand under my armpit. I was getting a cuddle! Except with a catch. The last bottle of the day was slid into my mouth.

“Drink up baby boy. Hold your baba for Mommy.”

I tried to clutch the bottle with my mittens, but the angle was so weird. Paulina was not going to help. She kept me all locked up in a cuddle position, but her hand moved down to my diapered crotch. As I suckled on the bottle, she gave me a series of diaper pats on the front of my diaper. I was basically a front of the diaper spanking. It really did stir me.

“This is your little diaper loser life now. Mommy is always in charge. Get used to it super soaker. I have big plans for my dumb diaper boy.”

I finished my bottle. Before I could even say a word, the pacifier gag was strapped back in.

“Nighty night diaper boy.”

She gave my diaper one last squeeze.

And for what felt like the millionth time that day, I soaked myself.

“Hahaha. What a diaper loser.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

44 OT4 NSFW?

44. I’m a noir detective and you’re the hot mysterious person who just slunk into my office the week before Christmas.

(This takes place slightly more than a week before christmas)

The radiator rattles like a dying man. Joseph ignores it; they’ve only got the cash to repair one thing this winter and the upstairs radiator is a week out from full shut-down. And he doubts Duck wants to act as his makeshift blanket when it does. 

He looks out the window, the lights of a dozen apartment windows and storefronts staring back at him, all decked out in their Christmas best. It’d look better with snow, but the City of Angels insists on being a temperate paradise. 

Right as he’s about to sit down and continue his bookkeeping, there are two, sharp, raps on the door. He calls for them to come, running a hand over his hair as he settles into his worn office chair. 

A tall, slender man with white-blonde hair steps over the threshold. The only hint of color in his wardrobe is the pair of red-tinted glasses perched on his nose, one that’s as angular and striking as the rest of his face. 

Indrid Cold. 

Joseph would have been less shocked if the president had walked into his office. 

Indrid Cold, whose father owned half the city and the people in it. Indrid Cold, one half of a twin pair of sons never seen outside of their father’s shadow. Indrid Cold, who until yesterday was a suspect in his father’s murder.

“Going by your expression, I suspect I do not need to introduce myself.” The voice from those thin lips is lilting, nothing like the icicle sharp tone Joseph heard the one time he encountered his father and brother. 

“That’s right.”

“And am I speaking to Mr. Newton or Mr. Stern?” He cocks his head.

Joseph extends a hand, “Joseph Stern.”

Indrid shakes it with chilly fingers, “In that case, Mr. Stern, I require you and your partner’s help. Not in solving my father’s murder, as you are about to assume. The police are swarming about that business like so many ants.”

“And you trust them to solve it?”

“To be frank, my interest in the culprit extends only to whether they are someone who would like me dead as well. Which is where you come in. You and Mr.Newton will serve a dual function; you will join me at my home in the mountains to provide a degree of security. And you will work out who tried to shoot me two days ago.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow, “You seem very confident we’ll take the case. Even though it carries a non-zero chance of being shot and attaching ourselves to potentially one of the biggest scandals of the decade.”

“It will be worth your while. I can pay a hundred dollars a day to each of you, and cover any expenses. Then there’s the fact you’ll have room and board during your stay, and the twenty thousand I’ll pay if you find out who attempted to cut my life short.”

He keeps his face flat and says nothing; it’s a tempting offer, more money in one job than they make in a year. But there’s a gnawing in his stomach, one he’s learned the hard way to not ignore. 

Indrid removes his glasses, cleaning them on his sleeve, “You are also likely to take it because of your, shall we say, disreputable pasts. The ones that mean even with all your skills and successes, Mr. Newton has to work evenings as bouncer at some unsavory establishments and you yourself must take the occasional job that’s no more than being a glorified peeping tom. The pasts that are the reason I am bringing this job to you” amber eyes meet his own and Joseph sees his calm for what it truly is; a rabbit holding stone-still under the gaze of a hawk, certain it’s about to be eaten. 

“Your father paid off or pissed off all the cops and respectable detectives?”

“Precisely.” The glasses slot back into place, “I need help. You can provide it, or you can go back to taking pictures through windows. What shall it be?”

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

“You sure we ain’t passed it?” Duck cranes his neck as Joe steers them around yet another hairpin turn in the San Gabriel’s. 

“Positive. He said the gate is ‘impossible to miss.’”

“Someone must be really pissed if they hauled ass all the way out here to try and off him.”

“Apparently it happened in the city; he was on his way back from the police station. The friend who was with him, Mr. Cobb, saw the gun in the reflection of a store window and dragged him down behind a car.”

“We gonna get the chance to confirm that with the guy?”

“We should. He lives with Mr. Cold full time as a cook. Aha, finally.” The car slows in front of a twelve foot tall iron gate with flames twisted into the metalwork. Joe hits the intercom and after a moment the shining mouth of the estate opens. The house itself isn’t quite a mansion, but it sure as hell isn't a cozy cottage for two. 

As they wait in it’s shadow for someone to open the front door, a gust of wind makes them both shudder. 

“Damn, forget how cold it gets up here. Who knows, slick, maybe you’ll finally get some snow.”

“Maybe.” Joe’s hands are in his pockets and he knows without looking that he’s worrying his palms with his nails. Duck doesn’t blame him for being nervous; stepping into the Cold’s orbit is like shoving your hand into a rattlesnake burrow and hoping nothing bites

The door opens on a man who towers over the six foot tall Joe. His short beard and shaggy hair are both auburn, his clothes are sensible outdoor wear, and there’s dirt under his nails. 

Duck likes him instantly. 

“Come on in, Indrid’s expecting you. I, uh, I’m Barclay” he holds out a large hand for each of them to shake in turn. Joe’s cheeks are pinker than they were a moment ago and Duck fights back a laugh; Joseph Stern may swear he’s straight, but put him near a big man with a soft voice and a sweet smile and he goes rose-colored. 

“Ah, I am glad you found the house. It’s so far into the hills that even I sometimes fear I’ve somehow gone past it.”

See, this is why Duck didn’t snicker at Joe’s little blush. Because now he’s staring up a staircase at Indrid Cold and his heart is bouncing like a dog at a stick. The newspaper photos don’t do him justice, don’t convey how his strange features meld together into something Duck never wants to look away from. 

Indrid shakes their hands and shows them to their room, Barclay helping them with their luggage as clouds darken the windows. Their room is bigger than the apartment above their office, with two, huge beds instead one murphy bed and one couch that they alternate sleeping on. 

“The house is yours to wander as you need, and you’re welcome to ask Barclay or myself for assistance should you need it. As I told Mr. Stern, it’s just Barclay and myself here.” He taps his fingers together, “will you be needing anything from us this afternoon?”

“You mind giving us a little tour so we can get a lay of the land?” Duck tosses his hat on the bed as Joseph carefully hangs his on a hook.

“Oh! Of course, a very good idea. Right this way.”

As Indrid leads them through the cavernous house, Duck is struck by how different it is from its sleek, dull exterior. The rooms are painted bright colors, there’s stunning art on every wall, and even the Christmas tree is decked in pink and gold. The garden is a bit overrun, but there’s a swimming pool and a row of climbing vines positioned near the house. When Duck comments on them being a good choice for the climate, Indrid smiles. 

“Thank you. I’m afraid I rather pestered the gentleman at the garden store working out which things could actually thrive here.” He looks out over the covered rose bushes, “this has been ‘my’ house ever since I turned eighteen. Apollo laid claim to the house on the beach, and my father always preferred his penthouse in the city. I find the woods inspire me, don’t you.”

Duck smiles wistfully, “Yeah, I really do.”

When the tour ends, Indrid excuses himself to work on his art until dinner. Duck and Joe use that same span of time to unpack. His partner is quiet, which means he’s thinking, and Duck lets him. 

Dinner is a simple pot roast that he crams into his face faster than is polite. Which is better than Joe does; he full on moans when he takes a bite, causing Barclay’s eyes to widen comically before he collects himself. 

By the time they say goodnight, Indrid has been at his side most of the evening, asking him questions and seeming fascinated by his knowledge of plants, which may be the most good it’s done him in years. 

“Try not to get too friendly.” Joe says as he removes his tie.

Duck locks the bedroom door, “I’m just bein’ polite. We’re their guests. Besides, thought you said Indrid had been officially cleared as a suspect by the cops.”

“He has, but we both know that means very little.” His partner sighs, “we should stay close to them when possible, both to fulfill the bodyguard end of the agreement and see if we can learn what’s going on here. Just…just be careful, okay? Alistair Cold didn’t get where he was without manipulation, and I’d bet he passed those skills to his sons. Which means the line between ‘useful close’ and ‘dangerous close’ with Indrid Cold is thin.”

Joe has a point, but he’s using that voice that makes Duck feel like his partner thinks he’s nothing more than a clueless hick. Which is why all he says is, “Don’t worry slick, I won’t let anyone know you’re jealous that someone else is gettin’ my attention.”

The other detective fixes him with a stern stare, “Go to hell.”

“Gonna go do some rounds instead. Make sure the place is secure.” He tips a hat that isn’t there and steps into the hall. 

As he double checks doors and windows (including testing that his key matches all the locks; Indrid swore only himself, Barclay, and the two detectives had keys to his new locks, but Duck wants to be sure), his thoughts keep wandering back upstairs to Joe. They’ve been partners for two years, and he’s damn grateful that he got paired with a guy whose brain puts Einstein to shame and a face that’d make Cary Grant jealous. He just wishes Joe weren’t wound so tight he can hear his bones cracking. 

And at least three times a week, he wishes he could slap him. Not because he’s mad at him or wants him to suffer. Because he bets those blue eyes would look even better all teary and that Joe would cry out and moan so sweetly when he did it. And then he’d let Duck do more, give him the green light to do every vicious, indulgent thing he’s been too scared to ask for until the other man is a bruised, bitten, fucked-out mess. 

He pads into the living room, stops when he sees two figures asleep on the couch. Indrid stirs, letting out a sleep mumble, before turning to bury his face in Barclays chest. Duck creeps backward to let the lovers be. He’s glad they have each other. 

Because in his fantasies, when the debauchery is done, all he wants is to pull Joe into that too-tiny bed of theirs and hold him until dawn. 

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

Christmas carols drift from the record player downstairs as Indrid sits in bed, sketching the images of a dream before they fly away. This will be the first Christmas he can remember without endless holiday parties and people sending him lavish gifts that always came with favors to fulfill, without his father hissing for him to act normal and Apollo mocking him every chance he gets. 

It’s the best Christmas ever, even accounting for the probability of being shot. 

Then again, that probability has led to two more charming, handsome men under his roof, which softens the sting. Joseph, gorgeous as he is, still seems wary– of him, and of everything–Indrid understands the sentiment and so tries not to begrudge him his caution. He also walked into the kitchen last morning to find the detective and Barclay having an animated discussion about movies, so maybe one day he’ll see them as friends and not suspects. 

Then there’s Duck, sturdy and understated in his many charms. Indrid would do a great many things for a peek at what’s beneath his slacks and would murder someone for one kiss of that crooked smile.

A knock on the door and a drawl asking if he’s up. 

“One moment.” He stands and, curious as to what will happen, reaches for a thin, short, silk robe instead of the heavy one he wears most days, “alright, you can come in.”

Duck opens the door, “Mornin’, I was wondering if…if uh, if we could, uh.” His eyes are fixed on Indrid’s legs. He can feel them staying there as he wanders to his dresser in search of a water glass. 

“Is there something you wanted to discuss?” Indrid tries not to smile as Duck’s reflection actually shakes itself back into focusing. 

“Yeah, uh, I wanted to go back over the orders you made for the locks. From what you’ve told me about your brother, I think we oughta check to see if there was any way another key was made or if someone sent him the lock diagrams so he could have one made on his own. 

It’s a good idea, but Indrid is more relieved by the fact Duck takes his suspicion of Apollo seriously. His twin was the golden child, respectable and capable of convincing a man in the desert to buy sand, while Indrid was a scraggy black sheep following behind him. 

He turns, takes his time coming toe to toe with Duck, “An excellent idea. I see why the clients of yours I spoke to recommend you so highly.”

Duck blushes, “Heh, Joe’s really the brains. I’m just the muscle.”

“I’m afraid I must disagree. Even if the muscle in question is spectacular.” He reaches out, running a finger up Duck’s chest. 

Warm hands catch his wrist and palm, “Sorry, sugar, no can do.”

“Ah.” He steps back, drawing the robe around him, “that’s alright. I do not blame you for not being interested.”

Strangely, Duck steps forward instead of back, “It ain’t that. I got a rule: I don’t sleep with clients. No matter how cute they are. Helps keep things from getting messy.”

“Sensible.”

Duck smiles gently, “Besides, wouldn’t Barclay be mad I was makin’ time with his fella?”

Indrid shakes his head, “We have an…understanding. Barclay has been in my life since we were children, and been my lover for  over ten years. He knows that even if my heart and eyes find others, that will not change that I’m his.”

Duck steps closer, guiding Indrid’s robe back up his shoulder, “He’s a lucky fella.”

He’s about to say they both are when there’s a tremendous crash from downstairs. They take one look at each other and then run for the door. 

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

He shouldn’t have let his guard down. 

Barclay knows why Indrid brought the detectives into the house, and he’s willing to put up with a lot to never have to hear a gunshot that close ever again. But something about Stern in particular made him anxious, like he was a hunter and Barclay was a beast lumbering in the woods. Even his polite demeanor,handsome face, and earnest praise of Barclay’s cooking couldn’t cover for that. 

Then, a few nights ago, he’d been unable to sleep and came down to find Stern in the living room in the same predicament. In the light of one, shaded lamp, the detective seemed to fade away, leaving a tired, charming man in his place. They played chess until Barclay nearly fell asleep in his chair. After that, Joseph sought him out more often and Barclay let himself be found. 

They were chatting about movies as he worked on the bread for dinner when he’d asked if Joseph had seen The Fugitive with Henry Fonda. 

“No, westerns aren’t quite my thing.” Joseph pauses mid-sip, “that’s the one you two saw the night Alistair Cold was killed.”

“Yep. Hell of a thing to come home from the movies to find the cops at your door.”

“I’d imagine.” The cup thunks onto the table, “You know, when I spoke with the ticket girl at the theater, she said she remembered you buying tickets alone.”

Fuck. Did Joseph bring up movies just to maneuver him into this conversation?

Barclay  turns from the dough and crosses his arms, “I know what you’re getting at. And yeah, I know you and every private eye from here to San Francisco could point out that it’s really fucking convenient Indrid and I are each other’s alibis. But all that happened is that Indrid was running late, so I bought two and waited in the lobby for him.”

Joseph stands, ostensibly to refill his cup, but all it does is bring him closer to Barclay, “Which means that the witness statements saying they saw you and Indrid leaving the theater when the movie was over don’t mean as much. You could have waited for Indrid in that lobby for quite awhile.

“I could have, but I didn’t. Look, Joseph, I know better than anyone else that Indrid had all the reason in the world to bump off his dad, and that’s before we get to how much he and Apollo are gonna inherit. I also know that there’s one Cold twin capable of killing someone and it isn’t Indrid.”

The detective meets his eyes, “I’d say you’re not the most impartial party when it comes to the Cold brothers. Especially since Apollo doesn’t strike me as the kind to fuck the help.”

A thousand memories flare up in him and he snarls, grabbing Joseph’s shirt and spinning them so the detective is slammed against the counter. Flour dusts the air and the coffee cup shatters on the floor as he brings them nose to nose. 

“If you think for a goddam second that Apollo is harmless and Indrid is a threat, your skull is so thick I could smash it onto the counter and you’d be fine.”

Joseph just looks at him, and for all the blush in his cheeks he looks utterly unafraid. Barclay realizes he didn’t mean a single word of his comment about the help; he was doing it to see how Barclay reacted. To see if his feelings for Indrid could make him into a mad dog.

Two sets of footsteps skid into the kitchen, but he’s not ready to let go.

“Barclay, what on earth?”

“Blue eyes here is really fucking sure you’re the bloodthirsty one and not Apollo.”

Duck’s eyes flick between Barclay and his partner, “You’d better let go of him or he’s gonna start thinking you did it.”

Barclay releases his grip and steps back. Joseph brushes the flour from his shirt, perfectly unruffled. 

“Joseph, I have been over the events of that evening with you three separate times. And that’s not to mention that the police have confirmed my story.”

“Police can be bribed.” Stern straightens his cuffs. 

“Oh for–is that what this is about?” Duck rubs his forehead, “yeah, Joe, they lie all the time. But you and I both know that there’s no way Indrid or Barclay coulda been anywhere near the murder.”

“But-”

Duck shakes his head, “Nope, I no for a damn fact you ain’t slept well the last two nights, and it’s startin to show. Go to bed.”

“No.” Joseph tries to pass Duck, only for Duck to grab his arm.

“Barclay, gimme a hand.”

“Excuse me?” Joseph tries to pull away but Duck doesn’t let go. 

“You won’t be good and go on your own, we’ll take you.” He tips his head and Barclay gets the hint, grabbing Joseph’s other arm and starting to pull. He’s not big on manhandling people, but it’s satisfying to half-drag the pissed-off detective back up the stairs. 

He and Duck let go once they’re in the bedroom, though Duck continues blocking the doorway as he says, “Get some sleep. And if you can’t fuckin stay put, I’ll cuff you to the bed.”

Joseph’s cheeks go redder even as his expression stays flat, “That seems like overkill.”

“Then don’t make me do it.”

Joseph takes a deep breath, “I’m not trying to insult either of you when I say this but: have you considered that being attracted to Indrid is clouding your judgment?”

“Nope. Why, is it cloudin’ yours?” Duck leans against the doorframe. 

“Fuck, Joseph, why are you so convinced it’s Indrid? You’re so desperate to pin it on him it’s like you murdered the guy.”

Joseph’s gaze darkens as it whips onto him.

“Get. out.”

“Okay, okay, we’re going.” Barclay throws up his hands and leaves, Duck shutting the door behind them, “what the fuck, did he actually kill someone?”

“No. But everyone thinks he did. See, Joe was on the force, was on his way to making detective there, there were even whispers that he’d be D.A eventually.” Duck’s steps slow, “you remember the Millicent Green murder case?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Joe was in charge of the investigation. Turns out it was her boyfriend. Not all that shocking, but he was was the police chief. Joe refused to back down, wouldn’t be paid to look the other way. So they hit him with accessory to murder on a smaller case and kicked him off the force. Only reason he didn’t land in jail is that the judge was on the level and threw out the case.”

“That was, in no small part, why I hired him.” Indrid meets them at the bottom of the stairs, “Joseph Stern could not be bought or beaten into going against his moral conscience. And I trusted he would choose a partner of a similar nature.” He glances at Duck. 

“Oh fuck, did the same thing happen to you?”

“Nah. Long story short, the state park I was workin’ at got shut down and turned into an orange grove. I needed cash and had to take some shitty jobs as hired muscle to get it. I actually met Joe throwin’ him out of The Black Swan. He has a way of makin’ people listen to him and the next thing I knew I was helpin’ him solve that case. When it was over he asked me to be his partner.”

Barclay looks back up at the second floor, “It just felt like I was talking to a different guy this morning. More…ruthless.”

“A trait which may come in handy if anyone does come after us.” Indrid muses.

“He can be that way sometimes. But he’s really a good guy. Great, if you can get the stick outta his ass.”

“Or put one there.” Barclay adds.

Duck snickers, “Never managed it, but not for lack of tryin’.”

They settle into their usual routine, Duck hanging around to sweep the kitchen and, Barclay realizes, make sure Barclay is really okay after his fight with Joseph. 

Barclay doesn’t see the taller detective again until well after dinner. Duck is doing a round of the house and Indrid is painting in his studio, so Barclay wanders into the kitchen to start on the dishes. What he finds is Joseph, sleeves rolled up and scrubbing away. 

“I’m so sorry about earlier.” Joseph must know it’s him by his footsteps, “I…I was trying to prove something to myself and forgot who was on the other side of the thing.” 

“Thanks.” Barclay joins him at the sink, “please don’t do that again. Act like you think there’s something wrong with Indrid for loving me, I mean.”

“I won’t.” 

Barclay squeezes his shoulder, feels him relax for a half second before the usual tension returns to the muscle. He grabs a towel from the cupboard. 

“Here, I’ll dry.”

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

This might be the glitziest Christmas morning Duck’s ever been part of. Barclay did some last minute decorating, so the whole living room is shiny with tinsel, the tree glowing like a heart in the corner. There’s a surprising number of presents beneath it, and when Duck sneaks a peek he finds that while most are addressed to Barclay, two are for him and two are for Joe.

Barclay is stretched out on the couch, reading, and Indrid moves through the room with a mug of eggnog in hand. He changes out the record, humming as a slow song crackles into the air. 

He reminds Duck of a moth, fluttering about the house at night, ethereal bearing barely concealing something fragile. Something that’s been flapping its wings against a storm for too long. 

Duck stands and offers his hand, “How about a dance, sugar?”

Indrid cocks his head, grinning, “And what about your rules?”

“Ain’t no harm in a dance.” 

Indrid takes his hands and, rather than keep a usual dancer's distance, presses against him. 

“You sure you wanna get that close? I got two left feet.”

“Can’t be any worse than me.” Barclay turns a page.

“Dearest, you are forgetting the time I once took out two waiters at a club with my movements.”

The cook chuckles, sets his book on the end table, “I’m gonna go check on Joseph. Kind of worried that he’s not down yet.”

“Let me” Duck spins Indrid off into Barclay’s arms, “he can get kinda morose on Christmas.”

When he gets to their room, Joe is fully dressed save for his shoes, laying on the bed with a book over his face. 

“You got somewhere to be slick?” 

“I’m trying to maintain professionalism.”

“You can let it slide for one day. C’mon, it’s real nice downstairs.”

“I’m sure it is, but you should get used to those scenes without me.”

“What?” Duck closes the door.

“Isn’t it obvious? Indrid and Barclay both like you. Once we’re done with this job, assuming we’re both still alive, they’ll probably keep you on as a bodyguard and send me home.” His voice is far away, like he’s still half in the book. 

“You’re not gettin rid of us that easily.” Duck teases as he nears the bed. 

“I don’t want to! But none of you will ever want me, not like I-” Joe slams the book across his mouth. 

“You better finish that sentence, slick.” Duck sets his hands on his hips but keeps his voice soft. 

Joe covers his face, “I want all three of you so badly. I, I think I might even be in love with you, Duck.”

He settles on the bed, “How long has this been goin’ on?”

“Six months, maybe more” Joe turns away from him, “I’m so sorry.”

Duck gently pets black hair, “You shoulda said somethin’ sooner. I mean, hell, we coulda been sharin’ a bed and freed up some space.”

A weak laugh, “would have been warmer too.”

It’s like coaxing a scared kitten from under the bed, getting Joe to look at him. His hands have to caress his jaw and trace circles on his cheek before he’ll turn to face him. 

“For a private eye, you can be real fuckin’ blind.” He leans in and kisses Joe as sweetly as he dares, catching a surprised gasp between his teeth. The hope is for Joe to climb into his lap, or pull him down to the mattress, but instead the other man collapses against him even as pleads to continue the kiss. 

“Easy slick, don’t want you droppin’ like a sack of laundry.”

“Easy? Nothing about this is easy, not when I’ve thought about crawling under your desk and blowing you every time I get a look at your thighs, not when wanting you, wanting the others, makes me feel like I’ll float away like a forgotten balloon. Please” he rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, “please, I want it to be easy, but I don’t know how.”

Duck gets the best idea of his life and then kisses Joe’s forehead, “I do. Do you trust me?”

Blue eyes gleam in the dark, “with my life.”

“Then you’re gonna do what I, and what the other two, say. Yeah?”

“Yes” Joe drags him into another kiss, moaning when Duck bites his lip. 

“On your feet slick.” He sneaks his cuffs into his back pocket as Joe obeys. When they reach the door, his partner hesitates. 

“Are you sure they want me involved?”

“Positive. But also” he grabs the end of a blue tie and yanks, “you ain’t got a choice.”

Joe moans, footsteps unsteady as Duck leads across the landing and down the stairs. Barclay sees them first, eyes wide as dinner plates as he sways Indrid in his arms. Indrid turns next, breaking into a wicked grin as he takes in the duo descending the stairs. 

“Brought you two a little present.” Duck lets go of the tie and Joe stills, looking at the other two for some kind of sign. 

“Lucky us.” Barclay rumbles, stepping forward and tipping Joe’s chin up to kiss him. 

Duck takes the moment where Joe is too surprised to hold onto the cook to grab his wrists and cuff them behind his back. 

“The hell?” Joe tries to look behind him only for Barclay to drag him into another kiss and not release him until he’s giggling. 

“I know you, slick. You’ll try to take control of the whole scene if we don’t stop you. As this is as much about makin’ you relax as it is findin’ out what’s under those slacks. 

“Duck, you’ve seen me in my underwear.”

“Yeah, but I never saw what was under ‘em, no matter how many times I wanted to yank ‘em down.” He guides Joe over to the couch, where he sits without needing to be told. 

“What, exactly, is the plan?” Indrid hangs back by the fireplace, metallic threads in his robe making him look like an emperor. 

“To show this handsome fella just how bad we want him so that the idea will actually sink into that big brain of his.”

“I see.” Indrid saunters forward, hands behind his back, considering Joe with an unreadable expression. The detective looks up at him hopefully as he approaches the couch, some silent conversation passing between them as Indrid looms over him. 

Then an ink-stained hand catches Joe across the face, loud enough that Duck and Barclay both jump. Joe doesn’t take nearly so long to recover, licking his lips and smiling up at Indrid while Duck is still trying to parse what happened. 

“That’s about as hard as I expected a spoiled heir to hit.”

Another slap, Joe yelping as it hits. Duck takes a half step forward when the sound turns to a moan and Indrid lets out a sharp, menacing laugh. 

“Oh you like that, don’t you pet? All that sophistication and cleverness to hide the fact you’re nothing more than a mutt who needs to be put in his place.”

“Better than being a brat who thinks he’s better than everyone else.”

Indrid crouches so they’re eye to eye, tracing a heart on Joe’s cheek with his finger, “Oh no pet, I don’t think I am better than everyone else.”

Slap

“I know I am.”

“Holy fuck.” Barclay grips the edge of the couch where he’s been standing, tent noticeable in his pajamas.

Indrid smiles at him, “Surprised, dearest? Yes, I suppose you would be. You, my sweet, perfect, beloved beast, never need such a firm hand. You’ve never been anything but good.”

Duck shifts from foot to foot. His cock is twitching at Indrid addressing the others in that way, even though if the pale-haired man tried it on him, Duck would pin him to the floor and ride him until he cried. 

“Joseph? Is this really okay?” Barclay’s voice is going husky.

Joe nods once, then adds, “It’d be better if your boyfriend didn’t hit like a baby.” 

Indrid snarls, but instead of slapping him again he fists his hand into his hair and yanks Joe's head back. His partner cries out as Indrid sinks his teeth into the skin of his neck, not relenting until the moan turns broken and panting. 

“Dearest, please fetch the supplies. Duck, help me make him less decent.” Indrid begins unbuttoning Joe’s shirt. 

“Thought you’d never ask.” As Duck joins them, Joe kicks out a leg, lightly catching Indrid on the shins. 

“Now that ain’t very nice, darlin.” Duck pulls off Joe's tie and binds it around his ankles.

Indrid turns, kissing his cheek before pecking Joe on the lips, “Goodness, I had no idea you two would be this much fun. Are you alright, pet?”

“I feel like I’m flying.”

“If it turns to a fall, tell us.” Indrid cups his face to offer a tender kiss, “none of us want you hurt.”

“Thank you.” Joe sighs, tipping his face into Duck’s hand when he offers it. They stay like that until Barclay returns, at which point Indrid rises and points imperiously at Duck. 

“Take off your pants. Barclay, sit there and put Joseph over your lap so you can, ah, open him up for me.”

“Ohfuck.” Joe actually whines as Barclay obeys and throws him over his lap. 

Duck is enjoying the sight of carefully pressed slacks being bunched around Joe knees that it takes reality a moment to join him in the room. Joe knows the truth, and he’s fairly certain Barclay figured it out when he poked his head into the room to ask a question right after Duck was in the shower and saw the scars on his chest. 

Did Barclay tell Indrid? If he didn’t, how the fuck should Duck go about this?

Indrid’s fingers wrap around Duck’s pants and shove them, and his underwear, to the floor. In retrospect, this is what he gets for stopping to think near a man who looks horny enough to fuck an entire barroom. 

“Mmmm, it seems Barclay was correct.” Eager fingers tease the folds beneath his dick, “are inside visitors permitted?”

Duck snickers at the phrasing, “Sometimes. Depends on how I’m feelin’.”

“Understood.” Indrid brushes their noses together, “go lay down on the couch. Joseph has a mouth that was made to suck cock and I have waited too long to see him do so.”

He positions himself so he’s laying on the couch. Getting where Indrid wants him, especially with the sight of Joe facedown and ass up, moaning into the cushions as Barclay fucks his ass with two fingers. 

The cook pauses from where he’s groping and kissing Joe’s ass, “Put your feet wherever you need to, man.”

That lets him get close enough that he can reach down and drag Joe’s face between his legs. 

“MOH, oohhhhhhhhhhh” Joe isn’t doing much besides moaning but that alone is pretty gratifying. 

Indrid tugs Joe’s hair, “Get to it pet.”

“What–ohfuck–what about you?” Duck turns his head as Indrid kneels by the couch.

In reply, Indrid kisses him, really kisses him, for the first time. It’s like Duck has been holding his breath, diving deeper and deeper in search of something, only to find the treasure glittering at him up at the surface. He sighs into the kiss and Indrid lets out a pleased chirp. 

“It’s like you were meant to kiss me.” Indrid murmurs before bringing their lips together a second time. 

Duck has to agree, lets himself melt into the feeling of Indrid’s mouth on his and the toe-curling steadiness of Joe sucking him off. His climax builds slowly, like a wave far out from shore, and by the time it crashes into him he’s blissfully sprawled on the couch with Indrid nibbling his neck and Joe kissing his thighs. 

“Think he’s ready, baby.” Barclay is practically drooling as Indrid helps Duck sit up and turns his attention onto Joe, undoing the tie on his ankles. Barclay is also ready, his cock fully hard as he kicks off his pants. The cook coaxes Joe to straddle his lap, thighs shaking as he pushed and pulled into position. His hands are still trapped behind him, and Duck watches them flex as Barclay shoves him down onto his cock. 

“SHIT! Ohmygod” Joe slouches forward, “god, Barclay, yes, god you’re amazing.” 

“Thanks baby.” Strong arms circle Joe’s waist as Barclay kisses his neck. 

A constant stream of short, helpless, ecstatic moans leave his partner, and Duck swears he’s never sounded more beautiful. 

“As lovely as you sound, pet, I have another use for your mouth.” Indrid undoes his robe, cock shorter than Barclay’s but already burning it’s image in Duck’s mind. 

The loss of Joe’s moans is made up for by Indrid purring , “Good boy” as Joe takes the head of his cock into his mouth. Had Duck not just cum, he’d be jerking off frantically to Joe being used so thoroughly and expertly. 

After a moment, Joe chokes out something he can’t quite make out.

“So soon? My, you really were meant to be nothing but a rich man’s toy, weren’t you?”

Joe cums with a muffled shout, but the other two offer no relief, and so he writhes in Barclay’s lap, softening cock bouncing helplessly between his legs as tears spill down his cheeks. 

Barclay rams into him hard enough that his partner actually squeaks, and an instant later Indrid pulls away, cum painting Joe’s flushed face and chest. 

In the chorus of panting that follows, Barclay manages, “Keys?”

Duck quickly undoes the cuffs, catching Joe as he collapses into his arms. He’s never looked this relaxed, this vulnerable.

This happy. 

“You with me, Joe?”

A slow, satisfied nod, “I’m here. You’re a genius.”

“See, he agrees with me.” Indrid flops into Barclay’s lap, peppering his face with kisses and cooing things meant for only the cooks ears. 

Gradually, the four of them rearrange into more comfortable positions on the couch, Barclay wobbling off and returning with coffee for each of them. As Joe cuddles between Barclay and Duck, Duck puts his lips to his ear. 

“Merry Christmas, darlin.”

Joe kisses him, soft as mountain snow, “Merry Christmas.”

[cooganbegs-blog]

Of Ups and Downs.

It was a rollercoaster day today. I’m tired and emotional.

Down - every time I look at SBO and see how frail and skinny he is, how he only eats what I offer him by hand, no chicken anymore just the best raw steak I can find (I’ve never eaten steak like he is being served up on a daily basis! I’ve finally found something to burn my useless salary on!), the constant sobs initiated by his usual head pushed against me waiting for stokes.

Up - I finally feel I added some value to my team! God, I now have three people in my team and my fellow gal pal (marketing manager) gave some some tips and a spreadsheet to help setup my teams individual priorities for next quarter. I emailed it round this morning with direction on how I want us to priorities our work:

- a learning priority: they can chose something they want to learn (a compulsory 10% of their bonus) to encourage curiosity and a growth mindset (an essential trait of a product person)

- a product priority set by me: there is some shit that just needs to get done, that pushes the team forward, advances the product or our processes. Willing to negotiate on the success metrics

- a personal priority - each person can chose a priority they want to work towards, it cants be BAU, it must be something that is a stretch. I will need to approve or negotiate and key results are also negotiable.

All my peeps were happy and I had a light build moment that the single most valuable thing I can do for them is provide what begged all my useless CPO’s for in my previous roles. Give them direction and the why, and they will solve the how! I finally came away after several hours relieved instead of berating myself for being useless! I did have to get tough and negotiate with my PO (new to this role but an excellent BA), she just won’t prioritise learning how to think like a product person. She’s in danger of losing some of her bonus because she just didn’t make time. Will see if she delivers on the compromise I suggested! My new PO/PM is so delightful (if confident!), he talks my language and I don’t have to change his nappy or tell him how to do his job!! So refreshing!

Down - I kind of lost my shit in a meeting! Not hugely but I did let my frustrations show. Explaining that the meeting we were in (and several others I had to sit through) were quite frankly a fucking waste of time until the exec team makes a call on how we segment a customer base. I am not prepared to (its well above my pay grade!) and have provided the necessary data for them to battle it out. The project manager agreed, the meeting was cut short. I immediately regretted my outburst and sent a message to her apologising for letting my frustrations get the better of me. I also owned I probably should have escalated a week or so ago but have been snowed under with a thousand other priorities (roadmaps, product relates plans and annual planning). Gulp. Note to Self: bite my tongue next time and go to her direct not in front of 7 other people.

Up - my work trip to the US was cancelled so I can stay home with Loki!

Down - I haven’t been for a run or been to the gym since I got back. I forgot how fucking brutal the dark, icy morning are here and what a disincentive it is to running. I hate it.

Up - finally got booked in to have my shoulder injected, although I’m absolutely shitting myself.

Down - did I mention just how dark and cold it is.

Up - winter solstice is imminent. Which means the long slow downhill slide into summer….and by summer I mean January next year!!

Down - hearing Loki licking incessantly all night and not knowing what he was doing. Waking this morning and discovering his bed was absolutely saturated with pee and him so distraught and mortified. So much cortisone equals so much extra water drinking equals so much peeing. Only he didn’t get up at all. Im setting my alarm for 3 hour intervals tonight to get him up. He’s definitely an old, old dog now and it breaks my fucking heart. A matter of weeks ago he was shiny, lithe, well muscled and a bundle of cheek. Now he’s gaunt, slow and smells of old dog and urine. Fuck it’s so unfair. I don’t want anything to change, I want to go backwards in time and freeze when he’s young and active and full of beans. The end is closing in faster and faster and there’s no way to stop it. And foolishly I just keep wishing and wishing I could turn back time.

Up - I found a packet on M&M’s in my luggage which I completely forgot about and discovered just when I needed them around 3pm this afternoon!

[hazbincalifornia]

Year in Writing

My end-of-year writing reflection! And by reflection, I mean 'thing that's the equivalent of those 'post an art piece for every month' memes'.

Essentially, this is just a collection of writing snippets, one picked from each month. (Some of the ao3 links may have a different post time, that's because they were posted on tumblr initially during that month. Some are also NSFW, so be warned, but those will have a little note next to them.)

Here's to another year!

Jan- link

“So you’re the one who wanted the private show, huh?”

“Guilty as charged. I came to see your circus a bit ago, and I must admit, you captivated me. Such a perfect little specimen… I wanted to see you up close.” There’s adoration and delight tied up with a bow of something darker, dripping repression and obsession.

All four eyes are glowing, white pupils pinpricks as they focus on Blitzo. Electricity thrums up his spine as he’s seen, seen in a way that burrows down to his core, tail idly winding in the air before snapping like a whip and making the owl blink. His strained grin twitches, half-melting into something cockier.

_

Feb- link (nsfw)

“Hmm.” He crawled closer, cupping Blitzo’s face in both hands, and Blitzo’s mind swirled further as the heat bubbled the blood around his brain, deep purrs rumbling through his chest as everything wobbled the way the air always did on too-hot days when the tar melted underneath your feet. Magic thrummed throughout his body, but all he could tell was that it was making Stolas touch him, and anything that made Stolas touch him was good. “It seems that having little Stellaluna had some physiological effects.”

_

Mar- link (nsfw)

“Okay. Get on your knees.”

That was… unexpected. Kit blinked, and Clove twirled the watch again, sending a glow from his fingers into the case. It caught the light, the magic inside reflecting a prism on the wall for a brief moment before Kit decided to drop down, black jeans hitting the carpet. Clove ran his hands through his hair, murmuring soothing words about how he was such a good boy that pulled a purr out of Kit. He could live in this moment forever, looking up at the speckled quilt of skin and the pointed teeth and the mesmerizing way that Clove’s hair bounced with every little motion of his head, not quite feathers but not quite hair either.

“You want to be a good boy, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Kit replied automatically, and Clove stroked up one of his antenna before his grin widened and he spread his legs.

_

April- link

Daddy meant two things, to Stolas. When warbled or excitedly chirped out of the beak of his young chick, it was love and admiration and the knowledge of protection and security, that nothing could hurt her as long as Daddy was here. Daddy was a warm lap to rest on and a comforting presence that he was happy to provide for his stunning little starlight, his sweet blossom who peeped out the title with wide, innocent eyes and chubby, flushed cheeks.

When it was teased out from under the lips and between the teeth of his little circus imp, though, Daddy dripped with bloodied honey, slick and dangerous and powerful in an entirely different way. So often, Blitzo used it to remind him of the difference in their ages in addition to a jab at how the baby in his belly got there, even though when it came to prowess in sexual matters, the imp was the one with more practical experience. Daddy was the tip of a crop sliding along the skin before it struck, the fire burning in his stomach when cooed out like a prayer, the thrill of how wrong and yet right all of this was. Even when he was the one letting it slip from his beak, it was all a play, a dance to keep them both on their toes as they figured out together what this thing that they shared was.

_

May- link (nsfw)

Satan’s sweet pussy, he knew they’d said something about heats being worse if you don’t let one in now and then, but he’d soaked through his turtleneck and coat in mere minutes and already felt like throwing himself into a shallow grave just to fuck whatever worms happened to be crawling in and out. His hips gyrated in the air, and Loona’s nose twitched again before she pinched it shut, voice stuffy as she spoke.

_

June- link

He waits. He wants to justify himself, but what can he even say? She knows what’s been done- what’s been done by him to her lovely, brilliant spitfire of a child. She has his flame, he can see it in her eyes and how she holds her hands, but there are decades of bricks built up to keep it from being blown out. 

“I know how it works.” She’s chopping some orange fruit into pieces. The knife is razor-sharp, and she spins it in her hand expertly before turning her head to face him with steely eyes. The words are well-planned as they spill out like a spool of barbed wire, and he realizes suddenly why this is the woman who named her children the way that she did. “You think that you’ll care, but you get the choice to run. He doesn’t. He grows attached so easy and he already loves the baby you put in him. I’ve spent eighteen years trying to keep them from cracking and sinking into the worst aspects of themselves like so many around here do, and I don’t want to watch my baby boy break because of you.” She impaled the point of the knife in the cutting board, and even though Stolas knows he could turn her to stone with a glance, he finds himself gulping. “If you’re going to love him, love him, and treat him like a prince. If you aren’t…” She trailed off, and Stolas can see his own distorted reflection interrupted by rivulets of juice running down it. “Don’t waste our time.”

July- link

His hand fell flat, and a nervous laugh bubbled from his chest as delight echoed in his blood. He could feel an echo of his own movement, curled up and curious as they prodded back out with their baby hand. They were safe. They were happy. They were tired. But when he draped his tail over his stomach, pure bubbly love of the kind he hadn’t felt since he was a kid curled around his brain like marshmallow fluff, sinking in and soothing away the self-doubt for just a moment.

They were excited enough to see the world that they were still spilling all over, but the flood of joy at simply living, at being himself, was overwhelming. (Had he ever really, truly loved himself this much?)

_

Aug- link

Fear and anger and boiling ancient magic bubbled inside her until they burst, swelling inside of her belly before riding up her throat. Stella coughed up a single feather as deep red as the back of a blasted skull. A moment later, droplets of her own navy blood splashed on top of it. Then… the flood.

Feathers choked out of her, smothering as they poured out fast enough to bury her form entirely with red and black and red and red and red as she clawed at the floor. Sticky and searing, her head split in two and also into a dozen pieces while they melted to her skin, sinking through her clothes even as something erupted from her back. It burned as it tore through the bone and muscle with a scream that not even the endless feathers could muffle. Her breath twisted inside her lungs as the growths on her head and back unfurled, fresh flesh still sore enough that it hurt to twitch. She could see everything cracked and shattered and from different angles as she slowly, shakily rose, fingers twitching as her claws extended at a thought even as they bled from the base.

_

Sep- link

Wisps of that same contentment as before trailed up his nerves, along with a tiny and muffled warbling coo. It wasn’t nearly as strong this time, but it had started the exact moment he’d started rubbing his stomach, so it had to be the kid saying ‘hi’ in the only way that she could short of bruising the inside of his skin by going for the boxing championship. It was a cheaper high than coke, at least, and a soft smile spread across his face at both the sound and their shared sense of serenity.

_

Oct- link

Blitzo’s eyes were blown wide, tail curling around his legs as he watched Stolas’s expression shift from confident to flustered. This was just like Kat and the Envy imp, he knew how this should end, but his racing heart at the thought of being captive was only equaled by the flames pooling between his legs at the thought of being wanted that much. “Shit, could have fooled me, but let’s put a pin in that one, alright?” 

_

Nov- link

It had been sleeping when he left.

It was fine.

It was fine.

He was going to get out of here.

He was going to get out, and it would be fine, and Barbie would drag him to a nearby bar and scrub him clean of the sweat and dirt and cum and then she’d cake him in makeup to cover the bags under his eyes and things would go back to normal, and it would be fine, and someday they would be able to laugh about this like the time in Lust they’d had to-

It was fine.

_

Dec- link

“Incorrectomundo.” He pointed the tip of the marker at her. “I have changed my mind exactly once. I thought Stolas was taking the kid, then I felt like shit about the thought I’d have to do it, and now I don’t because I want her. Any other existential crises that happened between those points are none of your legal business, missy and mister.”

“Crises?” Moxxie raised an eyebrow, and Blitzo mimed a zipped lip.

“Like I said. None of your beezlewax. I’m keeping the kid and I will find a way to not have her fuck with business. My personal life is my problem.”

[alairmena]

Good morning good people, time is up!

You haven't been able to write more characters than I am capable of drawing!

Thanks to everyone who was participating! I'd suggest y'all to follow my posts more closely for similar events in the future 👀😎 Read down for personalized notes!

Here comes every drawing in a separate picture, so that everyone can get their flashcard!

You may also notice that the two first characters were not submitted under this specific post. Actually they were submitted late for the original "group photo of our OCs" post, so they couldn't be added there, so I decided to include them here.

Because I don't leave anyone behind!

Therefore peeps, here you go!

For @foyle-writes-things:

You didn't provide a picture, but you did provide a thorough description, so this is how I imagine Razz! Just now I notice I forgot to color the eyes green, so let's imagine they are :)) I sure hope she's a white hat hacker cuz this mf looking very gloomy 😨

For @informedimagining:

I took a little creative liberty to add her a tan (since she's a country girl and does many outdoors activities) and make her hair originally brown then dyed to blonde, because it just made sense for the character at the moment! I hope you like it!

For @chaotictravelerrants:

Time Weilder seemed to me like a mythological creature/deity of some sorts, so I tried to make him somewhat etherical~

For @strawberryflavoredblade (so happy to be able to tag you T.T):

Here have your DILF OC Leonardo! I hope THIS captures him well 😌 I did notice that you mentioned that his hair should have some blonde strikes since he's aging, so let's say that he decided to look nice for a photo and went to dye his greying hairs so that he looks all nice and dandy (I guess he has enough money and free time for that!)

And unfortunately missed opportunity to draw the crime gloves, but alas, I wanted it to look like a nice photo that you can reuse, so, here you go!

For @renzaslasher:

I must say that your OCs have immaculate design! I loved drawing this poor boy! His face was the first thing I colored bcs it's so fucking fun lmao you need to see how the lineart layer of this one looked like 😂 I drew him with a weary emoji face (😩) because oh my god do I imagine him looking like this all the time having to deal with that goober

For @nightingaleflowlibrary:

I really hope i got colors right on this one (lmao what colors, she's basically black and white even here), but nonetheless, I tried to bring the prettiness of the original drawing to my style, idk if it translates well T.T I love her from your description 🥺

For @divine-proclamations-of-bs:

Come to think of it, this OC really encapsulates the vibe of your username 😁 You're the silly one that provided the hex codes for the hair color and the eyes!!! How dare you make me search for the W3Schools hex to rgb convertor 😤/j Jokes aside, I pinpointed the exact hexcodes for the colors and put them on your silly guy! The picture you provided made me laugh so much I just wish there was more content of this dude 😂😭

For @angelicanoi:

I wanna know more about him, he seems like a charming little dude 🥰 Start sharing more about your OCs on your blog, we wanna see it!

And I really suggest everyone who's been reading this far to check out other people's blogs and read about each other's OCs! Y'all are my worshipers community, start acting like it! (jk unless)

Happy writing everyone!

And why exactly are you still reading? The post is over. This is the ad break now.

Key's Unwilling Assistant - COMING SOON

So now that i have 36 followers (12x3 🤯) i just want to clarify something to people

In case you haven't noticed, I'm weird. I'm a weirdo. Have you ever seen me without my drawing pen in my hands? That's weird.

I may or may not jumpscare all of you with unexpected fanarts of your characters. Nobody's safe

(and if that's something you're into you may reblog this with more of your blorbos, lets see if you can write more than i can draw >:) )