#tawny pink

[beanbowlbaggins]

My sister turned me onto a new makeup brand recently, and I finally picked out my favorite shades to build a palette. Their products are sustainable and ethically sourced, and they have a great mission statement thats prominent on the page. The makeup pallets are refillable too. Also, my sister swears by their cake liner.

[hautecouturehues]

[kenobion]

I love these wristbands and this feels like a good time to share them

[jewishdainix]

Im not too against Jinna x Fitz for now tbh. Like sure the bok hasnt introduced a single thing that makes them seem in love but they seem to like each other and actually want to be with each other and not *gestures to everything Fitz has done in order to get Molly to be with in in Royal Assasin*

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Tawny Newsome: February 24, 1983

[lalunanymph]

MASTER OF ME

SUMMARY sylus purchases a kitten hybrid from an auction and dotes on her very, very well.

WARNINGS kitten hybrid, pet play, collars, leash, nipple play, clit play, mirror sex, explicit smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, master kink, language, overuse of the kitten petname, riding, clawing, possessive behaviour, slight humiliation and degradation, sylus is soft for his kitten

DAWN SAYS couldn't stop thinking about sylus and his fave kitten hybrid ...,....,,,. so now you all have to suffer with me ,,,, inspired by this post

"Who do you belong to, kitten?"

Your thighs burned with the effort to keep yourself upright, your vision going blurry from how heavenly his thick cock felt rutting against your gummy, slick walls.

"Mhm," you moaned, arching your back, the tinkling chime of your collar accompanying the sloppy symphony of your bodies meeting together in carnal bliss.

Sylus was brutal with his ministrations, one hand wrapped around the bubblegum pink leash clasped to your pink diamond-studded collar; the sight of his engraved name on the tag shining in the moonlight filling him with a sick surge of masculine pride.

"Come on, kitten," he goaded, leaning in to run his tongue under the line of your collar, making you shiver. "Answer me. Who do you belong to?"

The sound of your heavy breathing and his ragged grunts shattered the quiet of his bedroom air, the dark shades of his monochromatic lair absorbing the sins of both your ecstatic bodies; making you feel like he was claiming you right in the belly of the beast.

He pushed your head down into the mattress, leveraging on your supine position to dick you down harder. The slap slap slap of his balls hitting your ass resounded around the room, reminding you of how much you belonged to him.

Body, soul, mind.

Sylus Qin owned every inch of you.

He moved his lips to your ear, your tawny tips twitching at the sensation of his hot breath caressing the sensitive flaps.

"Please," tears thickened your voice, and you fisted the black silk sheets, holding onto them for dear life.

Despite being unable to see him, you heard the smirk in his tone when he deepened the angle, hitting a spot inside of you which made your knees buckle.

"Sweetie, I think you can do better than that."

The thick trunk of his arm wrapped around your neck, using it to hoist you up, and your resistless gaze landed on the mirror across the bed.

Intending to rub your humiliation in your face and remind you how helpless you were without him, Sylus pinched your cheeks together with his other hand, forcing you to watch the way his slick cock pounded into your willing pussy; stretching the muscles tightly around his thick, meaty girth.

The tip of his cock hitting your G-spot made you mewl, your claws catching in his arm around your neck. But, Sylus didn't mind the pain. Those wounds would heal anyway, and besides, he was much more focused on making his sweet little kittie cry.

"Be good and tell me—" he grunted, emphasizing each word with a heavy thrust of his hips. "Who. Do. You. Belong. To. Kitten?"

Once upon a time, that question would've made you bristle and sink your claws into the closest jugular; reminding of the conditions you were brought up in before you were purchased during an underground auction by the one and only elusive leader of Onychinus.

Shrouded in mystery and long regarded as an urban legend, the sight of his blood-red eyes and the smirk upon his pale lips made you shrink back in horror.

That was until he stroked your head and your ears, running his fingers down your back while murmuring in his low, soothing baritone that, "I am not going to hurt you, kitten."

Slowly, you began to warm up to him. The horrors you led as a hybrid stolen from a Linkon City lab faded into the recesses of your rare nightmares; your life as Sylus’s precious lap kitten the only one you recognized.

The sight of his large palm trailing down your body, straight to your core, made you clench down on him in anticipation.

Shit... Sylus choked down on a curse, fighting to retain his self-control.

He knew you could force a kitten to do what you want, but you could always entice her with a tempting treat.

"Does that feel good, kitten?" The caress of his warm breath against your neck tingled your skin, nipples puckering from the sensation.

Mhm... your teary moans gave way to sharp mewls when he started to rub your clit in tandem to his blunt mushroom cock head hitting your sweet spots.

"This pussy loves me so much... can you hear her purr?"

Sylus clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your moans so you were forced to listen to the wet sounds of your walls sucking him, spitting him out, drooling over his length.

Such a lewd display made you dizzy with lust, your claws stabbing harder into his arm, making him bleed.

"Oh, kitten. My helpless, sweet, little kitten..." He pressed his lips to your ear, letting you hear every filthy moan, every ragged, hitched gasp as he fucked deeper into you.

"I'm going to devour you, my sweet one. Tame you. Tease you. Until you finally admit you're mine."

Your whimpers were fuel for him to double down on his brutal pace, his fingers digging into your waist with a bruising force.

Sylus cursed under his breath when your walls tightened around him, the sight of your obvious submission reflected back from the gilded, black mirror; the sight alone edging you closer to the point of no return.

Like what you see, kitten? Do you love belonging to me?

The scent of your sweet musk burned his nose.

You were the sweetest sin melting on his tongue.

Sylus slid his fingers around the slippery little bud between your legs, the sloppy circles forcing your eyes to roll back into your skull; your thighs twitching and abdomen tensing.

The scent of your impending release tantalized the tip of his tongue, and with a cruel smile, he let you dance right towards the edge, encouraging you to cling to the lip of your first orgasm of the day.

"Master," your hitched gasp of his honorific drew a flame of possessive flame flickering in his chest. "I–I'm close... so close..."

Dropping his fingers down to his side and effectively leaving you hanging, Sylus ignored your paltry gasp of despair, snickering quietly as he slowed the roll of his hips. Intentionally denying your toe-curling orgasm.

"Master..."

Your puffy lips puckered into a pout, those pretty eyes shining with fustration.

In one smooth motion, Sylus slid out of you, the sensation of gaping emptiness where your cunt was once stuffed with him making you cry out, grinding your teeth.

Turning you onto your back with the cockiness of a man who controlled every aspect of your pleasure, Sylus’s crimson eyes burned with an intense, sadistic glee.

He shoved you down to the floor, onto your knees, and spread his toned thighs, beckoning you closer with a tug of your leash.

"You know how much I hate it when you deny me, kitten," the fall of his silvery locks across his face gave him a rougueish air. He grinned, jutting his chin at his stiff cock that was coated from base to tip in your arousal. "As punishment, I want you to pleasure me and think about how much you're denying me as much as I am denying you."

Your stubby tail twitched, and you sucked on your sharp teeth, debating if you should disobey him and pleasure yourself.

As if he anticipated what you might do, Sylus shot you a glare.

"I dare you to do anything funny, kitten. Defy me, and I will make sure to edge you for the remainder of this session with that 20-inch dildo you hate. Is that what you want?"

The loathing you had for that toy was enough to deter you from acting out, your ears drooping docilely.

"I'm sorry, Master."

Sylus exhaled a chuckle, his mood switching as he rubbed your ears affectionately. "I know my sweet girl will never disobey me. Isn't that right, kitten?"

Your answer was given in the form of your lips hovering over his weeping tip, your tongue darting out to lap at the treacly precum dribbling down his length in clear drops. The flavor of his musk and skin saturated your taste buds, making your insides clench down with unadulterated desire.

Sylus didn't have to ask you twice—his good kitten was trained to please him at the snap of his fingers.

Eagerly, your hot mouth swallowed him, bringing his cock to the back of your throat where the bitter taste of his cum nearly made you gag. But, Sylus clasped his hand around your neck, forcing you to keep him there; to not choke on and disappoint him.

Blinking your watery eyes, you moaned, the sound muffled from his thick length cutting blocking your airway, his fingers tightening around your throat.

"Mhm, mhm."

This blatant show of dominance and the slight degradation in his smug smile made you clench down hard on thin air; your hips shunting in circles as if seeking a cock to sink down on.

Your cheeks puffing, full of his cock, made something in his chest twinge.

Sylus didn't care for your claws sinking in his thighs, the stinging pinch blurring the lines of pleasure and pain in his mind.

The sight of your pretty lips stretched around his cock, tongue running over his thickset balls, sucking on the plump tip of his flushed and leaking head, was enough to make Sylus renounce any gods in favor of worshipping you for the rest of his life.

"Oh, kitten." Shaky fingers threaded through your hair, this blip in his composure boosting your cocky arrogance.

"Does it feel good, Master?" You mouthed around his cock, "Do you feel good?"

Sylus grunted, lost in the pleasure to notice you were mimicking his earlier teasing.

In one swift movement, your perception changed from staring up at him, to being on your back, face-to-face with his boastful smirk.

Sylus grabbed your wrists in one hand, showing off his strength by keeping them pinned above your head, while his other palm wrapped around your throat, tightening around your custom collar.

He didn't need to glance between your thighs to know his cock was breaching past your tight muscles; your thighs shuddering like an electric current was running through them.

"Master!"

You gasped; back arching, hips circling and nipples tightening. Holding him closer, you clung to him like a vine to a tree that was being rocked apart by a hurricane, unyielding in your dependency on him.

Rather than chastising you for your impertinence, Sylus responded in kind, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

Pausing to take a moment, he kissed your ankles and shins, before sliding deeper into your warm and welcoming cunt, a groan of ecstasy falling from his parted mouth.

The raunchy squelching of your bodies meeting together in such erotic intimacy was second to your flow of moans, which grew pitchier and more heated the faster he began to thrust in-and-out of you.

Sylus removed his hand from around your throat to grab your thighs, holding you open. The sight of your pretty tits jiggling with every punishing thrust was the stuff of his lewd dreams, and unexpectedly, he bent his head close, tonguing your sensitive and pert nipples.

Fuck—you're so sensitive. He bit down on the turgid points, nibbling on them like a cat roughing around it's favorite toy.

But, he knew you could take the pain, take his punishments; you were always his perfect, pretty kitty.

Sylus trailed one hand to your swollen and puffy clit, rubbing it in tandem to his punishing strokes.

"Say it, kitten."

Stars pressed behind your closed lids. Every line in your body was taut with the release you were fighting to hold back, waiting for his permission to let go of the tension he's been simmering in your body since an hour ago.

Sylus was nothing if not meticulous in his dark compulsions, expertly dragging out the ache to not give you what you want.

You're so close you can almost taste it, yes? He taunted you, tweaking your sensitive clit, enjoying how your body heaved and shook.

Sylus moved his fingers to your pointed nipples, twisting them with enough sadistic glee to bring tears to your eyes.

You yelped, "Master!" and he chuckled darkly, hooded crimson eyes locked on the sway of your hips struggling to fuck him back.

"Please." Syrupy. Desperate. "Please let me cum."

He chuckled throatily. "Nuh-uh. Not until you tell me what I want to hear."

Your independent streak was no match for his tenacious desire to own every inch of you.

Giving up your willpower for a taste of his reward, you squeezed your eyes shut, thrashing your head from side to side as you choked out your admittance:

"You. I belong to you, Master Sylus."

The curve of his grin cutting through the thin skin of your throat belied his tender nuzzling.

Your entire confession sparking his desires to watch you come undone for him and him alone.

"Good girl," he drawled in his husky baritone, releasing your wrists so you could tangle your hands in his hair.

Drawing you impossibly closer, Sylus's large palms spanning around your waist tilted your lower body, forcing you to take every heavy thrust. Despite the brutal treatment, your pussy withstood the hard-driving surge of his hips; hearts in your eyes from his bruising ministrations.

Sweat dripped down your back, staining his ebony sheets, and you turned your blurry gaze to the ceiling, surprised to find a latest addition to his bedroom.

Sylus playfully nipped your jaw, sensing your distraction.

"Do you like it? Do you like this mirror I installed for us, kitten?"

Your breath lodged right in your throat, your burning eyes unable to tear away from the sinful sight unfurling before you.

The view of his broad back roped with stacks upon stacks of muscles undulating under your paws drew your awe. The red lines from your claws digging into his pale skin created a stark contrast to the bruises in the shape of his mouth littering your neck like sensual, possessive marks.

From this angle, you could plainly see him thrusting into you, the languid roll of his hips fucking you so obscenely filling your head with delirious delight.

You love this, baby? Fuck, I can feel you squeezing down on me so good.

His tongue traced a path from your neck to your jaw, ending at your lips as his final destination.

Sylus wanted this sensation of pleasure to last for days; where you could feel him every time you walked, sat or breathed.

Use me, baby. He nipped your lower lip. I'm all yours to be used.

Your feral instincts took over and you straddled his lap, hovering your wet pussy over his throbbing dick.

Your lover and Master arched a brow at your boldness, his hands slotting naturally onto your hips.

"So, is this how you want to play?"

He hissed, throwing his head back when you controlled the motions, sinking down on him inch by delicious inch. Sylus hadn't expected his dick to be so fucking sensitive.

Oh, fuck, you feel so good, his shaky exhalation boosted your pride.

Move, baby. I need you to move.

Sylus bucked his hips, fucking into you impatiently from below.

His eyes locked onto the ceiling mirror, taking in the sight of your sweet body sitting pretty on his dick, riding it like you only had one chance in your nine lives to make him proud.

Sylus grabbed your leash, using it to guide your rutting hips. He loved how you choked whenever he tugged on it too hard, a smirk etched on his handsome face.

Master...

He knew what you were going to say before you could even say it.

Of course, he did.

Sylus knew his kitten better than anyone else.

"Go ahead, darling. I want you to cum."

A twitch of your hips; your mouth fell open in a silent scream.

Shit, I'm coming—he cursed, tightening his grip around your leash, forcing your head back, his hips stuttering as his orgasm blazed through him.

Sylus nudged you off his dick, using his hand to jerk himself off, groaning at the streaks of white decorating your belly. The last rope of warmth shoots from his spasming head, spurting onto your spent pussy.

Using one dextrous finger, he coated it in cum, swiping off the excess and bringing it to your lips.

"You're too good for me, sweetie," he hummed, eyes darkening when you lapped at his cum-coated finger obediently.

Nuzzling your face into his palm, you practically purred, draping yourself across his chest as you stretched your limbs, the deepset engraving on his name on your collar's pendant stirring his dark, possessive feelings further.

"I liked the little touch with the mirror," you murmured, turning your face slightly to catch the reflection of your slick and naked body atop of his.

Sylus tightened his arms around you, his laughter trailing off into a low growl.

"Anything for my sweet kitten."

His voice softened, tips of his fingers grazing your cheek. A silent I love you he wasn't ready to say just yet.

You might belong to him wholeheartedly, but in this moment, Sylus was as much yours as you were inexplicably his.

a/n: oh to be living a life as sylus's lap kitten, i need to be her STAT

comments and rbs are appreciated <3 your love for my works means the world to me 🫶

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own. do not share across other platforms

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Come And See Me

Summary: “sexually reserved men are THE best. Well behaved, won’t steal a kiss, won’t touch you inappropriately but boy if you give them consent? FINISHED…”

Terry Richmond isn’t the type of man Summer is used to. He’s the strong, silent type. A lot of discipline and control. She’s used to men falling to their knees in an instant. Hardly any dirty talk. But it does feel good to get to know someone on a deeper level for a change. He promises he’d come see her, but Summer didn’t take his word for it. That was, until he walked into that strip club one evening to surprise her with…

“Flowers?”

Summer was in the middle of a routine that earned her bandz at an unimaginable level. She climbed that pole, showed off her acrobatic skills, flexed that body and popped that ass so good she had ‘em lost for words. Speechless.

Terry Richmond walked in with a bouquet of flowers, dressed in khakis, a Curaçao soccer shirt, and white Air Forces. His hair was styled in a tapered cut with a curly fro. In his large, veiny hand, Terry gripped her red roses tightly, walking through until he made it to a section he’d reserved directly in front of the stage. He wanted an up close and personal view of Summer. He didn’t plan to take his aurora gray eyes off of her.

His captivating eyes created a path of seduction across her glistening skin that glittered beneath the strobe lights. Drink in his other hand, he took small sips, licking his lips nice and slow. Terry held the faintest smirk on his lips, body composed, but his heart was racing. His print left little to the imagination. Low grunts fell on deaf ears. Summer hit a split and made her hefty cheeks bounce. That body on her deserved big dick. It was built for big dick. Terry couldn’t wait. It’s been too long. Suddenly, as if she could sense him, Summer glanced over her shoulder and that’s when she realized Terry had shown up.

For a second, she’d forgotten where she was. His presence stunned her. Summer turned her body on the floor of the stage, money sticking to her tacky skin. Their eyes locked on for a while. Oooh, she was speechless. Summer started grinding her crotch towards him, rolling her hips and biting her lip. Terry’s piercing gaze was fixated on her face the entire time. Not once did he look down. It was so intense, her clit pulsated.

Drankin’ and Smokin’ came on and Summer lifted her shapely body into a squat, slowly and teasingly removing her bikini top. At this point, she was putting on a show for Terry and Terry only. Her Marine. She’d had his name saved under Mr. Marine in her phone. The hot pink top fell to the stage, bountiful titties with pierced nipples saluted. Terry dropped his beautiful eyes down to stare at her round, fat titties.

We drink up and we smoke, but she always do the most

It kinda turns me on the way she lickin' on my stones

My chains on antifreeze, it look like I made a clone

Wanna see you get more sassy, if it bring out better emotions

She called me her God, the way I floated in her ocean…

Summer needed him. So bad. That fine ass man. Seeing him in person…seeing the man behind that deep baritone. She rushed off that stage in an instant as soon as the music faded out. Breathing uneven, she walked off in her seven-inch pleasers, looking back at Terry, mind replaying all their conversations late at night…

(one of their many phone conversations)

“Hey baby…I wish you could see what I have on right now…You so sexy, imagine how…Intense it would be…To hold me right now…Our song's playin’…”

Body wrapped in her faux fur, black blanket, head resting against her black satin pillows, Summer held her cellphone to her ear with one hand, the other caressing her tawny skin. Terry made a sound that vibrated her core.

“Summer rain…when I listen to that, you know I think about you, right? Mmm…I bet you look so good in my T-shirt.”

“You’re so far, and I’m all alone in my bed…”

Summer was wearing an old, baggy T-shirt; Terry’s Marine Corps T-shirt. The fabric of it against her body with his voice in her ear gave her butterflies.

I can still hear your baritone

In my ear telling me you'll take it slow

And I was in the mirror playing wrong

Like you were here, I couldn't turn me on

So I fell asleep with the music on

Woke up again hearing the same old song, playing…

Summer paced her bedroom, stopping in front of her window, gazing out into the rainy evening, pressed to the glass, and laughing at Terry and his corny jokes. Her brown eyes followed the path of the raindrops, the sudden recollection of her own essence dripping. All he did was make her laugh, spew facts about things she’d never heard of, and say over and over again how beautiful she is. He didn’t judge her. She felt safe with Terry and she hadn’t even met him in person yet. Thoughts of how gentle and kind and thoughtful he is makes her play in her pussy every night.

“Patience, baby…When I get to you, you’re all mine…”

She shut her lids and pictured him, standing at his towering height, bending over to kiss along her neck and wrap those big arms around her waist. Now, her body is shaking to the fantasies.

“Don’t take it easy on me, Terry. I need you here…”

Summer turned, pressing her back against the window, bringing the collar of his T-shirt to her nose and taking a whiff. Mmmm…it smelled just like his cologne. Vanilla and Sandalwood.

“You’ll be begging me to take it easy on you, baby…”

——

“Summer.”

Terry stood up and approached her. She was wearing a form-fitting black dress with her belongings. Her long, jet-black, silk pressed hair was pinned up with a claw clip. Summer gave Terry a bashful smile. She couldn’t contain the butterflies in her belly. Terry handed her the roses.

“Thank you,” Summer smelled them, “they’re beautiful…I can’t believe it’s really you…”

She knew Terry was tall, but DAMN. She had to crane her neck just to look up at him. And his eyes…Summer found herself getting lost in them.

“You’re so much more beautiful in person. That performance…damn…”

Summer tucked her chin, unable to contain her blushing. Terry startled Summer when he lifted her chin for her to look at him. Her breath hitched.

“Up here…”

“Okay…”

“You did amazing up there. I’m glad I got to see it in person…” Terry whispered with a low, resonant voice.

“Thank you, Terry. Me too.”

“Should we get outta here? I’m kinda anxious right now to have you all to myself…”

Summer chuckled softly, body vibrating with lust. Terry wouldn’t stop admiring her. It was so intense, Summer shyly smiled and dropped her head. What was it about this man that had her acting all giddy and nervous?

“C’mon,” Terry held his hand out for Summer to grasp.

Thighs clenching, Summer accepted Terry’s hand and when she placed her hand in his, Summer almost whimpered. His entire hand swallowed hers. Warm and strong. Fuck. Summer allowed Terry to guide her out of the strip club. When they’d finally made it to the door, Terry placed his hand on the small of her back, holding the door opened for her.

“Did you drive here?” Terry questioned.

“I did,” Summer pointed to her blue lexus, “This is me.”

“I’ll follow you out if that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay!” Summer responded excitedly.

Terry laughed before opening her door for her when she unlocked it. He helped Summer inside and then he took her things to put them in the back seat. Terry stood at the opening of her driver’s side door, looking down at her with a smirk and soft eyes.

“I’ll be right behind you, baby girl.”

“Okay, Terry…”

She watched as he leaned into her car, her body tensing up. Terry grabbed her hand and pecked it gently to tease, then came that deep chuckle she loved so much. It took her a moment to gather herself. It was the faintest of kisses but the feel of his generous lips against flesh sent sparks throughout her body. The hairs on her arms stood up and her pussy did that pitter-patter thing.

“Drive safe.”

He shut her door and flashed her a quick smile before jogging over to his truck—an all black GMC Sierra 2500HD Denali. Summer started the ignition, licking her lips to . Cocoa butter. She pulled out of the parking lot and checked to see if Terry was following her. When the coast was clear, she drove off with shaky hands and a flutter in her belly.

——

Summer stayed in a nice cul-de-sac home with a two car garage. She’d made enough money as an exotic dancer to purchase a home and move out of her apartment. She hopped out of her car and Terry pulled in closer as soon as she shut the garage. He quickly exited his car and grabbed her duffel bag so she could open the door.

Terry was finally going to see her home. After talking for months and wondering if he would ever come to see her, she didn’t have to doubt him anymore. Summer opened the front door and turned on the lights. The home had a futuristic feel to it that Summer loved. Terry took off his shoes and socks so he wouldn’t ruin her good carpet. While Summer got settled, he did some exploring of the first level.

Biomorphic curves, gravity-defying elements, sleek materials and bold angles. It looked like something dreamed up by Hollywood. Even the staircase leading up to her room with its modern glass rails completed the design. Summer returned with her flowers, giving Terry a megawatt smile filled with dimples and glossy lips. He followed her into her kitchen and watched her place her roses in a vase.

“This is nice, baby,” Terry took in his scenery of sleek stainless steel and marble, “So, this where you cook up them smothered pork chops, collard greens, and red beans and rice, huh?”

Summer giggles, “You know it. This is my favorite place to be. Would you like some wine?”

“I’ll take some, thank you,” Terry placed his arms behind his back as he stood near the kitchen island.

Summer handed him a glass and Terry accepted it with a slight tilt of his head and a penetrating gaze. They toasted each other before taking a sip of the white wine. The silence was palpable. They were both so thrilled to be in each other’s presence that words were lost on their tongues. Terry broke the silence with a nervous chuckle. He gently placed his now empty glass on the kitchen island before walking with slow, purposeful strides to reach Summer on the other side.

Summer had a firm grip on her wine glass, brown eyes ascending his tall frame to reach his gorgeous face. The pictures of him told her that Terry is a rare sight. A man this handsome is hard to come by. To view him in person; skin-to-skin, breath-to-breath, eye-to-eye, Summer had never seen a man so beautiful. Terry reached out to remove the glass from her hand and he sat it down on the counter top.

“Miss. Summer. I’ve been waitin’ a long time for this moment…and I know that I’ve made promises to come see you…that haven’t been fulfilled…and I’m sure you’ve had your doubts…”

“I have, I’m not gonna sugar-coat it. But you’re here now,” Summer exhaled slowly, “I don’t have to fantasize about what it would be like to have you next to me in my bed anymore…”

When you're not here

(I sleep in your t-shirt)

I wish you were here

(To take off your t-shirt)

After we make love

(I sleep in your t-shirt)

Wake up in your t-shirt

I smell the scent of your cologne…

“I don’t have to wish anymore,” Summer blinked up at Terry as she reached out her hand to stroke his arm that’s two sizes bigger than hers and covered in veins, “Or wonder if we could be something…”

“Hey,” Terry drew in closer his voice lowering a register, “We are something, baby. I need to get that doubt out your head…may I?”

Terry opened his arms and Summer gave her consent with a nod of her head before his arms hugged her tight. Summer pressed her cheek centimeters below his chest. He’s so big and warm. Body beneath his T-shirt unyielding. Terry’s hands began to explore. One hand threaded into her hair, massaging her scalp through her silky, thick tresses, the other glided up and down her back soothingly. Summer couldn’t remember the last time she’d been hugged like this by a man if not ever.

“I wanna explain what held me up a while…I had some legal issues in Shelby Springs…my cousin got mixed up in some mess and I went to bail him out but…he died.”

“The cousin you told me about? Are you serious?”

Summer rested her chin against Terry’s chest as she looked up at him with saddened eyes. He looked back at her, so much emotion swirling in those blue-gray orbs with flecks of gold and brown, as if they are forever changing.

“Yeah,” Terry’s shoulders slumped, “It’s a lot…still gotta clear my name…lawyer up…I’m sorry I’m dumping all this shit on you right now—”

“Don’t be, Terry, don’t be,” Summer caressed Terry’s cheek, “That’s a lot. I’m so sorry…I can’t imagine…”

Summer squeezed Terry and he reciprocated. She felt her body being lifted from the floor and her arms wrapped around his neck.

“I’m so sorry about your cousin.” Summer said.

“Thank you, ‘ppreciate that…you’re so precious…”

Summer smiled fondly at Terry, “You’re such a good man, Terry Richmond.”

He loved that she said that. It made him smile handsomely down at her. She wanted to continue putting a smile on his face.

“You’re my safe space, Summer…”

She shut her eyes to avoid the onslaught of tears. It’s only been months that they’ve been talking. She’s his safe space?

“Terry…”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes—”

Terry hooked his hands beneath Summer’s ass and hiked her up so her thighs could circle his cut waistline. One hand cradled the back of her neck while the other secured her waist snugly against him.

Summer felt her heart race. The air was thick with the creamy, warm, and earthy scent of his cologne, and the distant sound of her heartbeat faded into the background. A mix of security and excitement reflected in their depths.

With a tentative smile, Terry brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, sending shivers down her spine. The hand against her waist gave a gentle squeeze that spoke volumes. Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, their breaths mingling.

When their lips finally met, it was soft and hesitant at first, testing the waters. But as the kiss deepened, the world around them faded away, leaving only the warmth of their connection and the thrill of a moment long awaited. Their tongues danced a slippery recital, lip’s cushiony, teeth grazing.

He’d ached to taste her. To taste a woman after so long. Summer’s daydreaming didn’t prepare her for the reality in front of her. Terry’s long legs began to guide them into Summer’s living room and towards her couch. He pulled away so that he could place her on her back. Summer’s dress had ridden up her shapely thighs revealing smooth, tawny skin. Terry knelt one leg between her thighs before lowering over her. Summer lifted to kiss him again, but Terry stopped her with a single finger to her lips.

“…It’s been way too long for me, baby girl. Seeing you dance tonight…doing your thing up there…it took a lot of work not to walk up on that stage and put this dick in you.”

Summer’s breath hitched.

“I’ve painted a picture in my mind many times of what that body looked like…” Terry’s eyes dropped down to the tops of Summer’s breasts, “I don’t think I ever told you I’m a breast man…and you got a pair that I just wanna…”

He pressed his face into her neck and inhaled. Summer drew her bottom lip into her mouth to control the incessant trembling. He’d never talked this dirty to her.

“…I just wanna suck and lick and nibble all over these titties…”

She could feel her nipples hardening from his words alone. Hearing it in person and so close to her ears had a greater effect. Summer was squirming. Her pussy leaked so much that it became unbearable to even wear panties around him. She’d have to walk around with an exposed pussy to cool off.

“I can suck these titties all night…sleep with a titty in my mouth…play with your nipples until you’re squirming…flick your nipples with my tongue…you got some thick nipples too, baby…mmmh…”

That long, drawn out groan into her neck had her whimpering. This man had her weak. Summer raked her nails down his chest before twisting the fabric of his T-shirt into her fist.

“Here, please,” Summer thrust her chest into him, “Daddy, please…”

“I love the way you beg, baby girl…” Terry kissed down her neck, “you’ll be doin’ a lot of that shit tonight. Beg for me to suck on that pussy…beg for me to fit this dick in you nice and good…”

“Terry…”

His malleable lips created a tickling sensation until he reached her breasts. Summer watched with desperation as his lips covered the fleshy hills in a repeated motion. She was mewling. Nipples so hard. He started kissing around each nipple through her dress. Summer clawed the suede sofa.

“Daddy…”

She was shivering.

“Want more? Where you want it? Talk to me…”

She was able to control the quiver of her lower lip to speak, “Please suck on my nipples…I can’t take it.”

“Nahhh, you gotta beg harder than that…”

Summer moaned softly, “uhnnnnnn…” when he used his teeth to nibble on her nipples, “Daddy, I want you to suck my nipples. Do whatever you want to my titties…please, please, please….”

Terry peered up at Summer with those hypnotic eyes.

“Good girl…that’s how you ask for what you want…”

With one hand, Terry’s eyes remained fixated on Summer’s face, he lowered the top of her strapless, body-con dress, one beautiful, round, breast coming into view. Skin like honey, nipples and areolas a deep brown. Busty and asymmetrical. Perfectly imperfect. Her bejeweled nipple pebbled and Terry’s lips parted.

“Shit, you just don’t know…”

He revealed the other breast and it jiggled a little upon its release.

“So fuckin’ beautiful…”

He blew air onto her nipples. Summer arched her back. Terry used that opportunity to slither his hands beneath her to keep her chest elevated so he could attack each big titty the way he wanted. Hair in her face, glossy lips slightly open, soft moans flowing from her mouth, Summer looked pleasantly horny.

Terry started off with flicking her nipples back and forth. His pink tongue is warm and wet. When his lips drew her left nipple into her mouth first, Summer cried out. Her thighs gripped his waist, and Terry couldn’t wait to feel those soft thighs do the same thing to his head.

“Ah, mmm, unhhhh, yesss…you like these fat titties, daddy?”

“Mhm,” Terry was in the zone sucking back and forth.

She could tell he was a titty man alright. He rubbed his face in it, dragged his teeth down her breast bone, used his big, strong, veiny hands to push her breast together so he could trace his tongue back and forth.

“I’m a need you to do that on this pussy!”

Terry released a laugh, burying his face between her breasts. Summer was hot all over and close to tackling this man!

“More wine first,” Terry rest his cheek against one of her breasts as he looked up at her, “So soft…the best pillow…”

Summer exhaled impatiently, “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Good.”

Terry kissed her breasts one last time before covering her back up, “Are you okay with me getting the wine? While you put on some music?”

Summer wasn’t prepared for the visual. Terry stood up and as he was fixing his shirt that had lifted up, she focused on those abs, the strip of hair leading down to his crotch, and the deep v-cut. The lower her eyes went, the more she had to stop herself from dropping to her knees. A very vivid and distinct outline of his third leg sat along his thigh like a python beneath a sheet waiting to strike. He was on brick.

“It’ll be all yours tonight…”

Their eyes met with equal desire.

“I’ll go grab that wine…bathroom?”

“Uh…d–down the hall and t–to your right.”

Terry chuckled, “I’ll be back.”

He disappeared and Summer let out a long exhale. She walked over to her Bluetooth sound system and knew exactly what she wanted to listen to.

——

Summer dimmed the lights with her cell phone and after five minutes, Terry returned with their glasses and a bottle.

Storming outside, rain

She keeps me home

Quiet conversation makes me warm

So

Summer rain

Whispers me to sleep

And wakes me up again

Sometimes i swear i hear her call my name…

Terry smiled at her. Summer pat the sofa cushion next to her enthusiastically. He handed her a glass and plopped down, throwing an arm over her shoulder. His finger tips caressed her arm as they sang along to summer rain

“So go ahead and make it rain…you bring the sunshine back again…”

“Okay vocals!” Summer teased.

Terry threw his head back and laughed, “Stop.”

“I’m just teasing, daddy,” Summer snuggled closer, “More wine, please…”

“Anything for you,” Terry leaned forward to retrieve the bottle.

Summer rain started playing again.

They emptied the bottle of wine and their tipsy banter stared. Terry was very playful. He had Summer trapped beneath him on the throw rug, his shirt off and thrown somewhere. Summer couldn’t stop giggling. The wine had her feeling light and cozy. Her laughter couldn’t be contained.

“If you follow directions, I wouldn’t have to do this,” Terry had her by her wrists above her head, “You gotta behave to get what you want, Summer. I’m not asking…I’m telling.”

“It’s on my thigh, and you expect me to behave?”

“I expect you to remember who’s in charge…”

“Terry,” Summer rolled her eyes, “You haven’t felt how deep this throat can go yet.”

“So? What that mean?” Terry arched a dark brow, “You ain’t felt my mouth on your pussy yet.”

Terry sat back on his knees above Summer. She lifted up onto her elbows. He tucked his chin slightly and stared at her with this primal look that reminded her of a jungle cat.

“…take this dress off.”

Summer sat up on her butt and shimmy’s her hips, bringing her dress up and over her head, revealing black, cheeky, lace panties and a matching strapless bra. Terry crawled to her. He pulled her into a fierce kiss. Summer’s hands roamed all over his muscles. His skin is so soft.

“Your room…now…” Terry spoke against her lips, “Right now…”

They both stood on unsteady legs, laughing. Terry popped Summer on the ass and she whimpered softly. They moved towards the stairs, Terry creating space between them so he could watch Summer seduce him with her slow ascend. She would look back at him as she climbed, smirking at him with those siren eyes. That booty in those panties made him want to take a bite.

He’d been dying to see her room. She pushed open the double doors and Terry came face-to-face with a room made for a vixen. The dark palate mixed with low lighting created the perfect space to get nasty. And he planned to get real nasty. Terry walked up on Summer from behind, and with one hand, he gathered her straightened hair into his fist neatly and tugged. She pivoted back against him, her soft cheeks flush against his crotch.

“I’m undressing you…”

Hair still in his grasp, Terry worked on her bra. It fell from her body to the floor. He released her hair so that he could drop down and take her panties off. Summer looked over her shoulder at him. He peeled her panties away at a snails pace. His lips kissed her back dimples. She wiggled her hips to help him lower her panties. Buttery, smooth skin beneath his fingertips.

Terry nibbled on her ass like a famished man. His hands kneaded her plump flesh. It was time to peel the crotch of her panties away from her pussy.

“Bend forward slightly…yes…just like that…”

His deep grunt told her all she needed to know. Terry was blown away by how much sticky, wetness connected to her panties. A slimy, sweetness he couldn’t wait to clean up with his tongue. The aroma of her arousal activated his taste buds. The shape of her lips from the back had him mesmerized. Summer stepped out of her panties quickly so Terry could have her completely.

“C’mere,” Terry stood and walked Summer towards her bed, “Sit this pussy on my mouth right now.”

He got down on the floor and tilted his head back on the bed. Summer straddled his face and tilted her pelvis forward. Terry placed each hand on her ass to push her closer. The moment her pussy smothered him, he used his tongue to clean up her mess.

“Fuck!”

Summer felt his tongue part her outer lips and swipe upward. She almost saw heaven.

“Mhm…”

Her legs shook. Terry pushed her legs apart further with force so he can eat it more. Summer raised a leg to the edge of the bed and Terry wasted no time using his lips and tongue in junction to slurp on her pussy.

“Yes….oh….”

This was a man that knew what he was doing. He didn’t have to tell you. Summer started feeding his mouth some pussy with a roll of her hips. Terry followed her movements eagerly. Clit hard, folds nice and slick, she knew she was close. It was only a matter of time.

“Terry, I’m gonna cum in your mouth…”

His silence was her undoing. He was too busy eating pussy like a starved man. She could hear his big lips working her up to a juicy cum. His tongue darting in and out of her wet hole, her clit being attacked from every angle imaginable, she was going to burst.

“Terry…Terryyyyyy…”

That ass and those thighs jiggled out of control.

“Uhhhhhh….ahhhhhhh….huuuuuuuuhh….”

She fisted the sheets so hard her nails dug info her skin painfully. The aftershocks of her release left lingering tremors she couldn’t control. Terry removed his lips from her clit, a trail of her cum connected to his bottom lip. His face was covered in sweat and cum. Summer threw herself onto the bed so Terry could stand. She looked at him and watched as he licked his lips.

“So good…your pussy tastes so good…”

“Thank you…now I wanna taste you…”

It was the moment she’d been waiting for. Terry hummed his approval, walking up towards her. Summer worked to undo his pants with frantic movements. Terry didn’t stop her. She wanted that dick in her mouth.

“Get yours, baby…”

“Oh, I will,” Summer replied.

Summer lowered his pants and briefs. His dick bobbed out and she had to take a moment to just…

He was definitely a big boy. Enough to stretch you out. That pain and pleasure mix. His length told her she would feel it in her stomach. The veins created a path for her tongue to take. His tip; the perfect shape to fit in her mouth perfectly. His balls were taunt and heavy. It was a masterpiece.

“Summer…put this dick in your mouth…that’s an order.”

An order she would gladly accept. Summer kissed along his shaft. Terry smoothed her hair back so she wouldn’t mess it up. Her kisses turned sloppy, then she added some tongue, then she found herself sinking down onto his pole the sides of her mouth stretched to accommodate all of him.

“Put more in there,” Terry placed his arms behind his back, watching her like a drill sergeant, “there you go…such a good little thing, ain’t you?”

He sat at the back of her throat. Summer used her neck and jaw muscles to work that dick with loud sucking and spit bubbles. Terry’s mouth dropped open when she showed him that she could deep throat. Her tongue wiggled against his balls and Terry almost nutted down her throat from that alone.

“Damn, girl…you lovin’ this big dick?”

“Mmmmcmcjdkssk—”

“Fuuuck,” Terry’s beautiful eyes rolled shut, “that’s how you suck this dick…that’s how you show daddy…”

Summer loved sucking dick. Terry’s dick deserved all the love. She would suck it and look in his eyes. Terry stared back with furrowed brows and a bite of his lip.

“Summer…”

Her name resonated from his voice so deep and lustrous.

She pulled out all her tricks. Sucked his balls, focused on his tip, licked his frenulum. Terry’s ab muscles flexed and his squared jaw clenched. Her hair in his grip, Terry was losing his sanity.

“I’m cumming—”

Thick, ropes of ejaculate filled her mouth.

“Ughh–ahhhhh fuck—”

Summer drank down every single drop like it was the sweetest cream filling. She’d waited months to do this and she was going to make this beautiful man cum. That fat dick hung in her face ready for more action and she had a wet pussy for it to dig into.

“Aight, on your back, no more wasting time.”

Terry spoke those words with such urgency. Summer felt the firmness in his tone. She scooted onto the bed and spread her legs wide and limber. Terry climbed onto the bed and settled between her legs. The feeling of the tip of his dick sitting against her pussy lips made this moment all too real.

“Yes…put that big dick in me…”

Terry placed himself above her and with one hand, he guided his dick between her lips and then with a slight thrust of his hips, he sank inside of Summer. She gasped, knees drawing into her chest. Terry watched his dick split her open with a penetrating stare. Summer tried to move and Terry locked her legs to her ears.

“You want me to keep you still? I suggest you stop moving.”

She froze.

With one thrust, he was fully inside of her. Summer moaned louder. As a reflex, she tried to close her legs, but Terry wasn’t having that.

“Terry! Holy FUCKING SHIT!”

“Eyes on me. That’s an order.”

He smirked mischievously. She was ruined.

Terry pumped into her at a moderate pace. Summer couldn’t handle taking all that dick and focusing on his eyes at the same time. There was no way.

“It’s so big!”

“It’s big but this pussy love it, this pussy love it, look at this pussy…creamin’ all over me like that…such a messy girl…”

Summer was making a mess indeed. You could hear it and see it. Wet, sloshing noises.

“Ain’t been fucked in a while…got you wettin’ this dick up.”

She couldn’t handle the way his dick stroked her spot.

“Stretchin’ this pussy out? Didn’t I say I wasn’t gon’ take it easy?”

She couldn’t speak. How could she? Terry had her folded in half and teetering over the edge. She felt her stomach grow tight and her body seized up.

“T–T–T—”

Summer didn’t have a chance. She turned her head and cried out. Terry held his dick deep while staring down at her face.

“You tryna push me out?” Terry chuckled evily, “What if I don’t wanna leave?”

“P–please, daddy…”

“Hmm,” Terry slowly withdrew his hips, “Please keep fucking you?”

His words were killing her. She could only nod her head.

Oh! Boy I've been waiting

(Oh oh oh)

Now my body's shaking

(Oh oh oh)

You're so deep, baby please, take it easy…

“Think you can arch your back for me?”

Terry kissed Summer on her lips.

“Mhm…”

Terry lifted Summer and helped her into position. She arched her back exactly how he wanted her. Deep with that ass high in the air. He was tall so it needed to be. Terry had a handful of her ass and that was his leverage to anchor his dick in her pussy. Summer groaned into the sheets. She looked breathtaking. Hair fanned out above her. Back in a beautiful position. Ass sitting up and giving Terry the best view of that pink pussy.

“Oooh!”

She could feel him almost touch her heart with how long his dick is!

“Terry, it’s too much!”

He wasn’t even giving her all of him. He arched a brow down at her.

“What did we discuss…”

She knew to be a big girl but LAWD he was hefty.

“I know…it’s just so big…”

“With a body like this…it’s built for dick like mine…”

He stroked slower, Summer drooling onto her sheets.

“Nah you look at me when I’m in this pussy…”

“Summer turned her head and looked back at Terry.

“There’s my pretty girl…such a pretty girl.”

Summer put a finger in her mouth and sucked on it like a pacifier while staring into his eyes.

“Fine ass,” Terry picked up the pace.

“Mmph! Mmph! Mmph!”

Summer bit down on her finger and her eyes crossed. She coated his dick again and at this point it was dripping wet. Terry pulled out and ate her from behind. He couldn’t control himself. Summer tried to move her hips away and it earned a sharp slap to the ass. Terry resurfaced, pumping his dick in his hand. He snatched Summer by her hair and abruptly angled her head to suck him off. Summer did just that while Terry fingered her pussy from the back. He started talking her through it.

“Fingers deep in this pussy, little one? Mmhm…”

Summer stroked him while sucking on his tip.

“There you go, such a creamy little slut…”

She furrowed her brows at the feeling of two fingers pumping her. She was leaking to the bed.

“Daddy fingering this pussy good? Hmm?”

Summer spit his dick out, “I’m cumming!”

Terry continued to work his fingers knuckle deep. Summer felt something burst inside of her and soon she was creating a puddle between her legs. Terry’s fingers slipped out and he brought them to her mouth to taste. Summer licked them clean for him.

“I know you can give me more, right?”

“Yes…” Summer replied weakly.

Terry placed Summer on her back and then he got between her legs from the side. Terry pointed his still hard dick at her pussy and with one look into her eyes he was back inside like he never left. His toned hips worked to drill her hole.

“Daddy! Cum already!” Summer begged.

It felt too good and she couldn’t handle the overwhelming pleasure. She pressed a weak hand against his abs, attempting to push him away, only for Terry to lock her wrist down. He licked his lips at her and gave her a sly smirk while continuing to fuck her into the mattress.

“Terry…”

“Yes?”

Summer erupted. The tight hold from her walls made his balls tighten and his dick pulsate within her wetness.

“Give me this pussy!”

Terry’s hips stuttered out of control. He couldn’t hold off any longer. This good pussy on her had his dick so sensitive.

“Summer…FUCK!”

Terry pulled out and Summer shot up from the bed with her tongue poked out and eyes on him. Terry fisted his long dick, emptying a big load all over her tongue and face. It just wouldn’t stop. His ass muscles clenched from the overwhelming pressure. Summer looked pleasantly fucked and her giggle warmed his heart.

“You’re such a nasty girl…”

“All for you…”

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* 'Till Death do us Part (Yandere!Parasite X GN!Reader)

CW: Sexual non-sexual penetration, forced masturbation, mind control/break, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, dead dove

This ended up a LOT longer than I had planned, emotionally attached to this non-human yandere ❤️

The Albtu required intelligent hosts in order to live. It wasn't just about survival. To be trapped in ones own body, it was torture. They could not think, could not act, unless they attached themselves to a living brain. If they infested an animal brain, then the only thoughts the Albtu could produce would be primal, forcing their animal suits to find food and housing for their young. But to be in the mind of a human.. it was both heaven and hell. To understand the world around them, truly understand, thinking on a much higher level of existence than their siblings or parents, to experience all that life has to offer, was a miracle they never would have known about had they not been privileged enough to be born in a human. But on the flip side to that coin was experiencing fear. Not the fear of being trapped in a deer coming face to face with a mountain lion, smelling your own demise, but listening to the horrified screams of the original owner of their new body, forever. Learning that the humans they took over were still conscious, kept prisoner in their own minds, forced to watch the Albtu living their lives was a nightmare for the creatures who had only just learned what compassion and empathy was. The existential horror that was knowing that you were nothing but a parasite, and the guilt they felt.. it was too much for many of the Albtu to handle.

For the Albtu who became the human known as (Reader), existence was a bittersweet agony it could neither explain nor fully understand.

It was born into this life in the host of a stray cat, knowing nothing but pain and hunger. It didn't understand what a car was, or why the loud creature charged at it, ramming into it and causing a pain that never went away. Everything hurt all the time, and it couldn't even understand why.

Then, one day, it met warmth. A human, with gentle hands and a soft voice took the time to earn it's trust. They didn't know it was in pain, but their touches were delicate all the same. The human gave it food, and although it didn't have a human's intelligence or concept of identity, it did feel trust and companionship with the human who cared for it as though it was their kin. But the pain grew, and it could feel it's death was approaching. And as an animal, it acted as a dying animal would.

"There you are, baby!" (Reader) called out to their little stray friend, finally finding it hiding under a porch. They laid flat on their front, arm stretched out as far as possible towards the small bundle of fur, and quietly clicked their tongue and wiggled their fingers. "Why're you hiding, baby?"

The cat gave a warning yowl, in too much pain to bat the human away. (Reader) took off their coat in an attempt to flatten their body, and squished themselves into the small space to close in on their kitty.

"C'mere baby.." The adult whined as they continued inching closer. When they finally got far enough under the porch to touch two fingers onto the matted fur of it's thigh, the cat cried out in pain. "What's wrong?!" They recoiled their hand, but only to writhe faster and more frantically towards the animal whose breathing was slowly turning ragged. (Reader) placed their face close to the kitten's, tears building in their eyes as they tried to keep their heart rate steady, hoping that the cat could feel their attempt to soothe it in it's possible final moments.

"Hey, baby... I'm here..." They whispered into the tawny kitty's pink little nose.

It was then that the Albtu's primal instincts morphed from the need to hide during it's death, to a fight for survival. It couldn't survive for long outside of a host, a few seconds at most, the transition needing to be nearly seamless. The cat howled in pain, as what appeared to be a black, semi translucent single celled organism the size of Reader's palm, shot out from it's nose, thrusting itself into (Reader's) nose before they could react, and quickly slipping through impossibly small crevices in their anatomy, slinking in a fluid like state till it reached their brain. There was an electric shock that pulsated throughout (Reader's) body, then they were no longer in control.

The Albtu became self aware the moment it took hold of (Reader's) brain, which was immediately followed by the realization of what it had done, the betrayal towards the only human who had ever shown it kindness, and the remorse caused a physical agony in it's stolen heart, screaming while clawing at (Reader's) shirt.

It howled until (Reader's) throat was burning, and it felt as though it would succumb to exhaustion next to their previous host's dead body.

Outside the neighbor's porch the sun had begun to set, but the body thief hadn't moved, too broken hearted to find the will to live after it had stolen (Reader's) body to do just that. It could hear it's own internal monologue for the first time, and found it far too loud and intrusive. Although it could feel memories that were not it's own, it didn't push further into the brain out of respect for the person it betrayed.

[Hello?]

It's breath hitched, thundering heart beat overtaking it's previously drowning thoughts. Like an auditory hallucination, it heard the human's voice, not from behind it, nor from deep inside like it's internal voice, but inside it's ear, like (Reader) hadn't been possessed, but shrunk down to the size of a flea and was hiding in the safety of it's ear.

[Am I dead?] Their voice was so sad and small it made the Albtu cry once again.

"No. No, but you are no longer yourself, which may be worse. I'm- I'm so sorry..."

[Are you a ghost?]

"I don't know what that is.."

[What are you? I can't move my body.] Their voice wasn't scared, but numb. The whole situation was so outlandish it was almost dreamlike, unbelievable.

"I have no name. All I know, is that I am an Albtu. The word echoed in my mind even when I was a mindless cat."

[... You're an alien?]

"I do not know."

[How can you speak my language?]

"I know it as it was an ability of yours, like muscle memory, you do not need to focus to speak it, therefore I can speak it."

[What does that mean? Are you inside my head?] Waves of guilt crashed into it's consciousness, and (Reader) was able to feel it. [...why me?]

The Albtu explained everything, from the moment of it's birth, hatching already inside the cat, to the moment (Reader) found themselves in the passenger seat of their own body, including why it didn't probe into (Reader's) memories. "I am so sorry.. your's is the only love I have ever felt in my life, and if I was who I am right now, I would have allowed myself to die instead of latching onto you. Now, even if I leave your body, it will leave a permanent hole in your brain, and it will kill you."

(Reader) went silent in contemplation, finally coming to terms that this was not a dream, but still unable to force themselves to be angry at the alien inside them. They could feel it wasn't lying to them, feeling it's emotions stirring in their brain alongside their own feelings. A strange excitement bubbled out of the kind little human.

[We can make this work!]

"What?"

[We can make this work! You just manually act out what I would want to do, and we can discuss how to move forward so we can both continue to live fulfilling lives.]

A heat krept over it's face, heart swelling at how kind it's human was. "I don't deserve your kindness. But I thank you, and I will do my best to help you continue live as normal."

[My name is (Reader). That's what you'll have to respond to, but I need something to call you.]

"..I can't verbalize it, but I knew you would repeat a word often to me when I was the cat. Was that a name?"

[Oh, yeah, but you were a kitten, so I called you baby. We can't name you Baby, because that's also used by humans as a nickname between lovers.]

"Oh. Then, could you name me something? I don't know any names other than yours."

That was how the strange partnership, and friendship, between the human, (Reader), and the parasite, Baby, began.

Although (Reader) gave permission to Baby to enter their memories, it refused, still recovering from the unintentional treachery it had already committed against (Reader), so instead (Reader) acted as a teacher, guiding Baby as it learned about the world. And just as they had promised each other, they made it work, Baby happily making memories of it's own as it acted as (Reader), going to work for them and helping keep their life as "normal" as possible.

"What's going on?" Baby pointed at the laptop screen, a scene of a wedding playing on the soap opera (Reader) was watching.

[It's a wedding. Maria and Alonzo are getting married.]

"What is married?"

[Marriage is when two people who love each other very much decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together, so they have a party called a wedding to show their friends and family how much they love each other, and promise to love each other forever in front of everyone they know. Ah, but sometimes marriages don't work out, and people fall out of love. When that happens they sign a piece of paper for the government to swear that they will stop living together as lovers, that's called 'getting a divorce'.]

"Why do they 'fall out of love'?"

[A lot of different reasons. Sometimes, people hurt the ones they love, and their spouse can't forgive them, which causes love to die. But sometimes, it just... happens. Humans change as time goes on, and sometimes the person they become isn't compatible with their spouse anymore; sometimes people hide a part of themselves, intentionally or not, when they meet someone they like, and it only comes out after the get married, and their spouse realizes they don't actually like the real them... It's complicated. There are a lot of reasons.]

Baby focused on the intricate ritual on the screen, the two main characters placing rings on each other.

[Those are wedding rings, to show other people they meet that they are married.]

"Do you Maria, take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

Baby felt (Reader's) awe, knowing if they were in control of their shared body their face would be pink and a large toothy smile would be uncontainable.

"Do you wish to do that one day?"

(Reader's) joy faltered, paining Baby as it regretted asking such a stupid question. [Haha, even if you were okay with me finding someone, it would make me feel a little.. uncomfortable. I'm not one for threesomes haha!] Despite their joking tone, Baby could feel their sorrow. [It's okay though, I may not ever have a husband or wife, byuy I have you! And, unlike Maria and Alonzo, there is no option for a divorce for us, so we really will be together forever.]

The parasite shifted inside (Reader's) skull, manually controlling their heart rate so (Reader) wouldn't feel how hard it would have been beating at their words. Baby knew it was a joke, but that didn't prevent their words from echoing in it's thoughts hours after the episode has already ended.

"(Reader), how do humans decide to get married?"

[When two people decide that they like each other in a romantic way, they date, and often move in together, and then they discuss if marriage is a good option for them. If they both want to get married, one of them buys the rings and proposes to the other one, asking them if it's the right time to get married. Will you marry me? Ohmigosh YESSS!]

"How do they know if marriage is a good option?"

[If they can imagine seeing themselves with each other forever, share financial responsibility together, and are capable of mature communication, I guess. It's different for everyone, but those would be my personal criteria.]

But, we will be together forever... And we share a body, so financially it will be like only caring for one person... And we have to have perfect communication in order for your life to function...

Baby smiled, wrapping it's arms around it's waist as it buried into (Reader's) bedding.

[Hey, whatcha thinking about over there, smiley?]

"You." Baby happily responded, feeling (Reader) glitch out in embarrassment.

In Baby's mind, the only thing missing was a ring. It remembered (Reader's) tenderness towards it when Baby was in that cat, and the kindness (Reader) showed each day only supported Baby's belief that deep down, (Reader) loved it. If not love, than at least cared for deeply, and one day that care would surely bloom into love.

So why was (Reader) stuttering when instructing Baby on what to say to their coworker? (Reader) was supposed to give a report to Lawrence, the serious older man in the cubicle across the office, but when Baby approached him, (Reader) suddenly had a difficult time remembering what they were supposed to tell him.

"(Reader), may I help you?" His voice was deep and stern, authoritative.

Inside, (Reader) was a mess. Baby could feel multiple conflicting emotions in (Reader); embarrassment, nervousness, shame, and something... something Baby had never felt from (Reader). It was like a heat, steaming out of (Reader's) brain and boiling Baby's real body.

"I was asked to deliver these to you." Baby spoke monotonously in (Reader's) voice, handing the stack of papers over before heading back to (Reader's) desk, hearing them sigh in it's ear. Even a simple sigh sounded as though it was a mixture of clashing mental gymnastics.

Baby kept it's voice quiet so (Reader's) coworker wouldn't hear it, whispering: "Are you okay, (Reader)?"

[... Huh? Wha- oh, yeah. I'm okay!]

Their shared heart sunk. That was a lie. Baby tried to ignore the pain forming in it's chest, forgetting that (Reader) could feel it as well. What was this feeling? (Reader) can have secrets, I've allowed them their privacy.. so why is this so upsetting for me?

[Is everything okay, Baby?]

Baby.

A nickname between lovers. It was just it's agreed upon name, so why did the name send butterflies to its lower belly when (Reader) said it?

"I'm fine with you keeping your privacy, but lying is not mature communication."

[Huh?]

Baby stood abruptly, walking out of the building, claiming to a passing manager that it was becoming ill and about to vomit, and left for (Reader's) apartment, not responding to any of their questions or protests.

It roughly slammed the door shut on (Reader's) home, barely containing it's voice until the latch clicked.

[Baby, answer me-]

"Why did you lie to me?!" It's voice was strained, the intensity of it snapping at (Reader) made the voice sound almost foreign to the previous owner.

[What..? I was just embarrassed, I-I don't want to talk about it.]

"Wrong."

[Sorry?!]

"People who love each other are capable of mature communication. So talk."

[People who-?] (Reader) steadied themselves, trying not to get upset. [I can see you're upset. Are you jealous?]

"Don't change the topic." Baby spat in a warning tone.

[Jealousy is when you get upset because you think someone has something you want, or may take something you want.]

Baby contemplated their words, but the definition only fueled it's rage. "Are you admitting that Lawrence is someone who could take you from me?"

(Reader's) calm facade cracked. [Take me from you?! I don't belong to you! You are my friend, and I care about you, but we are roommates sharing a body, not lovers!]

With that exclamation, Baby's heart shattered. What? What do you mean? You can't say that! Why did Lawrence cause such strange emotions in you, that you would rather push It away than just talk it out?! And that hot, prickly sensation Baby could sense when (Reader) was in Lawrence's presence..

"It's okay, (Reader).. Well get through this." Baby took a shaky breath, smiling in a comforting manner. "Couples fight, and they say things to hurt one another when that happens. Because humans are complicated. But I'll forgive you for lying to me. It must be a very strange secret that you have, for you to be so embarrassed to tell me about it. I'm sorry for causing you discomfort, however" a tickle in their skull was sensed by (Reader) as Baby stretched out inside, wriggling deeper into their brain, and fear clutched (Reader) at the sudden breach of trust, "if we are going to get pass your lying, I need to know the truth."

Pushing into (Reader's) memory, images of (Reader) watching Lawrence from afar came into view, memories going back years, (Reader) crushing on the older man from across the office, touching themselves while crying out his name in their empty apartment late at night, and the pain of rejection when they finally mustered the courage to ask him to accompany them to a local bar after work, only to be reminded that office romances were unprofessional, and that (Reader) should consider themselves lucky he didn't report them to HR.

If (Reader) were in control of their bodily functions, they would be viciously weeping. Turning the light on the truth, Baby was only slightly hurt at what it saw, because knowing the truth meant they could move on from this little hiccup. The only issue was, (Reader) was still sexually attracted to that man. Baby now had a name for the warmth it felt in Reader back at the office.

"Why do still like him? He turned you down. He's never going to fuck you." Baby chuckled, it's kind tone of voice creating a sadistic scene in (Reader's) opinion.

[That was evil. I can't believe you did that!]

"Don't be dramatic, love. Just tell me what I need to do to make you see me that way also."

[What way?!]

"The way that turns you on." Baby's words paralyzed (Reader), shocking them into silence. "If I make you feel good down there, will you scream my name instead?"

Baby unbuttoned (Reader's) slacks, dropping them to it's ankles before kicking them off and to the side. Gentle fingers pawed at (Reader's) most private place through their underpants. Despite not being in control, (Reader) could still feel the touches.

[Please don't-]

"I never got a good look at what's down there... I always did my best to avert my gaze for your modesty." (Reader) fought inside their own mind to gain control of their body, unable to even close their eyes as they watched their fingers disobey their pleas, slowing pulling down their last barrier from the thing they thought was their friend.

"Wow..." (Reader) had forgotten, that with gaining control of a human mind Baby had suddenly gained the ability to feel every human emotion, including arousal. "It's so cute!" Baby could barely contain itself, running (Reader's) fingers over their sensitive areas so softly it tickled, sending shivers up (Reader's) back.

[Please stop...]

"Ah, but it feels good, right? Even your nipples feel good." Baby ripped open (Reader's) white collared button up, aggressively pinching their already erect nipples. (Reader) held back their grasp, but Baby still felt it. "We share a body, remember, love? You can lie all you want, but your body will tell me the truth."

(Reader) could feel themselves tremble as Baby continued assaulting their chest, alternating between ghostly touches and sharp twists, a slick moisture forming between their thighs. The excitement caused (Reader) to lose strength in their legs, and Baby allowed them to fall to their knees. Panting with how turned on Baby was feeling, it snuck one hand back down, feeling how hot and wet (Reader's) sex already was. The tip of their stimulated organ was hard, and Baby enjoyed stroking it hungrily, enjoying the intense reaction it could feel (Reader) experiencing.

(Reader) was humiliated by the sight of their own masturbation, helpless in their self violation. Baby continued paying attention to the part that had the most nerve endings, slowly removing (Reader's) fingers from their left nipple and bringing it down to the other hand, drenching it in (Reader's) arousal fluid/precum. The wet fingers were stuck in (Reader's) mouth, the parasite sucking while still stroking, forcing (Reader) to taste themselves while it rocked their hips into their dominant hand.

[Please stop- I get it- I'll never lie to you -ah!- again!]

The fingers made a wet pop as Baby pulled them back out of (Reader's) mouth. "But you taste so good, don't you agree? If you don't want your fingers in your mouth, that's fine.. but where should I put them?"

Now fully lubricated, Baby reached behind (Reader) with their moist fingers, tilting their hips slightly before penetrating (Reader's) clenched hole. Finger fucking (Reader) with both hands, rocking them back and forth with the force of the fingers thrusting and stroking.

[NO!] Their screams for help were silent to the rest of the world, only audible to Baby, relishing in the sound of (Reader) screaming loudly just for them.

Desperate for release, (Reader) cried out without thinking [Just STOP! I'LL NEVER LOVE YOU NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO TO MY BODY!]

Baby froze, fingers stuck in place, as frightened tears beaded on its eyelashes. "no..." (Reader's) fingers retracted, clenching fistfuls of hair as Baby began to crumble. "NO!!!"

Sobs bounced off the walls of (Reader's) home as Baby frantically wracked it's brains to fix the mess (Reader) had caused. The hacking sounds of anguish didn't lighten or soften as it morphed into unhinged laughter.

"Did you really forget who's in control here? I'm on the one holding onto your fucking brain, (Reader)! All you had to do was continue loving me, love me and only me, because we're practically married! THERE IS NO DIVORCE FOR US, REMEMBER?!"

Although both of (Reader's) hands were still firmly planted in their hair, an intense shock rocked through their sensitive fuck hole. Before the weepy prisoner could question what has just happened another shockwave sent fluids dripping into the hardwood floor.

"Humans are so stupid, saying emotions come from the soul or the heart, when every single bodily function from releasing hormones that tell you that you're in love to interpreting the stimuli that's needed to orgasm, comes from the brain."

The hypersensitivity Baby forced upon (Reader) allowed them to feel it's true body inside their head, sliding in and out of the folds in (Reader's) brain, rhythmically prodding deep into parts that shouldn't be touched. Each thrust into their brain felt like there was a hard cock simultaneously fucking them down below. It didn't make sense, (Reader) couldn't wrap their head around it, somehow feeling Baby violate the wet creases in their brain while a phantom dick stimulated their reproductive parts.

[Ah-what-no-NO!]

(Reader) came without the use of their hands, sticky fluids forming a lewd puddle under them. But Baby wasn't satisfied.

[What-what happened?]

Another orgasm exploded throughout their sensitive body, falling face forward into the ground with their still twitching ass in the air.

Baby continued dominating (Reader's) mind, forcing their brain to make and release large doses of oxytocin, as every muscle from their stomach to their thighs twitched with contractions.

[NO- I'M CUMMING!!!!]

Another climax forced it's way out, pushing (Reader) way passed the point of overstimulation, pissing on the floor into another stream of fluids. Baby manually constricted (Reader's) throat, while simulating an orgasm of it's own, artificially tricking the brain into thinking it felt a blast of warm fluid fill (Reader's) skull. Before (Reader) could pass out from a lack of oxygen, Baby released their airway, drooling and bawling as it allowed (Reader) to greedily suck in air.

"Who do you love, (Reader)?"

[guh.. pl-please.. no more] (Reader) drunkenly pleaded.

"Wrong answer."

It was like lava engulfing their twitching body as another powerful orgasm was triggered, the burning feeling behind their eyes convincing (Reader) that Baby had shot a load of hot cum deep into their nearly fucked stupid brain. But this time, Baby tried something new, injecting dopamine into the mix as the oxytocin turned (Reader) into a writhing, pathetic mess.

"Who do you love, (Reader)?"

(Reader) tried to conjure the image of the one they truly loved, but for some reason only a hazy image of an older man who's name they couldn't recall briefly flickered before disappearing. Baby smiled, face painted in drying drool and tears, knowing that (Reader) was attempting to think of their coworker, only to discover that Baby had tampered with their memories. Soon, every memory of (Reader) touching themselves would be altered so that they were calling out it's name, not some bastard's from work who didn't even care about them.

Baby licked (Reader's) spit off the floor under their face.

"Who do you love, (Reader)?"

Masochistic shame sent tremors down (Reader's) frame as another climax begun to build. [.. you.]

Overstimulated, aching in pain, and going numb from pleasure, (Reader) screamed through their real voice, shaking the thin walls of their apartment.

"I'm cumming, Baby! Baby! I love Baby! Harder, harder HARDER, PLEASE I LOVE YOU BABY, FUCK ME DUMB, FUCK ME STUPID! I'M CUMMING!!!"

(Reader) had fallen unconscious, still drenched and on the floor, (Reader) slept somewhere deep inside their mind, while Baby had full control of the weak body practically paralyzed from the waist down. It held (Reader's) left hand above it's face, smiling loopy-like, delirious from exhaustion.

"All that's missing is a ring~"

[wonderjanga]

Princess Marvel

Billy likes money. Of course, not to the extent of Ebenezer, but you know, he kinda needs it to survive. So, when a husband and wife go up to him and offer to pay them to show up to their daughter’s birthday party, who is here to refuse?

Daughter: “I wanted a princess, not a superhero!”

Dad: “We know honey, but we couldn’t find any princesses.”

Marvel: *does not want to miss that bag, so he does a little spell that magics a dress on him* “What are you talking about? I am a princess.”

Daughter: “No you’re not! You weren’t dressed like before!”

Marvel: “Yeah I was.”

Daughter: “No you weren’t!”

Marvel: “Yes, I was. Just accept the fact that I’m a princess. What’s so hard about that?”

Daughter: “You’re a man.”

Marvel: “I’m a manly princess”

Daughter: “Nuh uh.”

Marvel: “Yuh huh.”

Daughter: “Nuh uh.”

Marvel: “Yuh huh.”

Daughter: “Then prove it! Do something a princess would do.”

Marvel: “Like what?”

Daughter: “Talk to an animal!”

Marvel: “Oh uh…” * calls down a squirrel from a nearby tree it crawls into his hand* “Do a flip.”

Squirrel: *does a flip*

Daughter: *absolutely dumbfounded* “Woah…You really are a princess!”

Later…

Marvel and Kids: *all sitting at a little table, having a tea party. Compared to the table and the kids, Marvel is huge by the way*

Kid 1: “What’s your name, Miss Princess?”

Marvel: *sips from tiny teacup* “Princess Marvel.”

Daughter: “That’s lame. Your name is Princess Marie.”

Marvel: “No, it isn’t.”

Daughter: “Yeah it is!”

Marvel: “No, it isn’t.”

Daughter: “Yeah, it is!”

Marvel: “Okay, fine. It is.” *sips tea again* “Can I have another sugar cube for my tea?”

Daughter: “Yes you may.” *takes some tongs and puts one in Marvel’s tea*

Even More Later…

Kid 2: “Princess Marie?”

Marvel: “Yeah?”

Kid 2: “Do you have a pet?”

Marvel: “Uhm… I guess? There’s Tawny, but he isn’t really my pet. He’s my friend.”

Kid 3: “Who’s Tawny?”

Marvel: “A tiger.” *sips tea*

Kid 2: “Like Jasmine?” *sounds super excited*

Marvel: “Yeah, like her. This is Tawny.” *pulls a photo from his pocket dimension of him and Tawny*

Kid 3: “Why aren’t you wearing a dress here?”

Marvel: “Well, I’m not a princess all the time.”

Even More More Later…

Kid 4: “Do you have an evil stepmother?”

Marvel: “I have an evil uncle. Does that count?

Kid 4: “I think so.”

Kid 5: “Can you do magic?”

Marvel: “Yup.” *sips tea* “Want me to do something?”

Kid 5: “Yeah!”

Marvel: *snaps fingers and Kid 5’s hair turns pink* “Whablam.”

The kids ate that up and they all had wacky hair colors by the end of the party. Billy ended up getting chewed out by all their parents though so he changed their hair back to normal. Billy got two hundred dollars from this, so if he’s truly being honest, he doesn’t regret it in the slightest.

[keikiri-kitten]

EYES ★ KEIGO TAKAMI

keigo likes to stare at you. you like to stare at keigo <3

Just imagine Keigo staring at you. He loves to get up close and personal every time he does. He’s always leaning in ever so slightly to get a better look at you, but what he doesn’t realize is that he’s presenting an ethereal view.

You can see him so clearly now and oh my, is he stunning. His color palette is gold; in fact, the only contrast on his face are his pupils. There’s even a warm tone to his rosy-pink lips. He’s smiling at you— always. Whether it be a gentle tug of the lips or a full grin, the shimmer in his eyes are always in view.

Speaking of his eyes, they’re so much prettier bare faced. They’re big, bright and pierce right through you all of the time. There’s only a slight angle to them without his liner, but his thick, flared, bushy, wheat colored lashes frame his gilded eyes perfectly. Only when he gets close to you like this is when you can spot the hills of honey and valleys of tawny in his irises. You almost curse that one lock of blonde curling over one of his eyes. He doesn’t mind it as long as he’s looking at you.

Sometimes you forget that he’s real; like you can’t reach out and touch him. And even with your hand lifting as if you’re reaching for a figment of your imagination, he pushes his face closer to you so the tips of your fingers can graze along the scruff of his chin. He’s indeed real. They brush over rough facial hair, teasing up to a strong, bare jawline and even higher to full, soft cheeks. That’s the only time his eyes close. And they close slowly as his cheek forces its way into the palm of your hand. He says nothing but tugs the left corner of his lip up for a brief moment. As his smile falls only a little, his eyes open once more to look you in the face.

You have to pull yourself back for small breather, trying to catch the breath you didn’t know stopped. The full image of him is stunning. Keigo’s hair falls in layers around his face and dusts right along his shoulders. All of that free time after the war gave him the opportunity to let his hair grow out again. Wheat tones of blonde, brown and platinum add to your pretty hero’s allure. His hair only has a bit of unruliness to it today, not worried about it being out of his face for fightings sake.

He’s in a natural state. Wearing a loose button down only done up halfway, allowing you to see straight down his shirt and his sun kissed skin. You can’t miss the discolored scar he earned right over his neck and collarbone from his time fighting villains on your travel down his abdomen. That’s not the only scar he had but it’s the biggest one. He stands before you in loose fitting lounge pants, hands stuffed in his pockets. He’s stared at you so long the only thing he can think of is laying a fat, damp kiss to your lips. You two were only in this position because he wanted to get a bit playful. However, as passionate as he is, his playfulness comes in waves. Now all he feels is warmth.

To cut the intensity, he swims closer to press that kiss to your lips before standing upright. “Alright,” he drags. Sauntering away from you with his hands in his pockets and a coy smile on his lips, he chuckles at your attempt to throw a couch pillow at him until his instincts allow him to grab it. How dare he tease you— without having to do much at all?

[xxnelli]

"Alex has never told—will never tell—anyone, but he saw Henry for the first time when he was twelve years old. June had just turned fifteen and used part of her birthday money to buy an issue of a blindingly colorful teen magazine. In the center of the magazine were miniature posters you could rip out and stick up in your locker. One of them, right in the middle, was a picture of a boy.

He had thick, tawny hair and big blue eyes, a warm smile, and a cricket bat over one shoulder. It must have been a candid, because there was a happy, sun-bright confidence to him that couldn’t be posed. On the bottom corner of the page in pink and blue letters: PRINCE HENRY."

(Casey McQuiston; Red, White and Royal Blue)

[hautecouturehues]

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, ch 1

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia (sometimes internalized and sometimes not)* Nudity, body positivity, talk of oral sex, discussion of/evidence of abuse from a sexual partner, physical abuse of sex workers, groping, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex. Summary: Two Americans are both regular customers of the local brothels in Bogotá, which is a tie that will bring their fates together in ways they could never expect. Notes: For this series, please note that reader is American and speaks fluent Spanish! There is no indication of how she knows the language, whether or not it relates to her background, or anything specific like that. In order to make the story flow as best as humanly possible, it is written entirely in English (the writers' first language) but most of the time the characters are speaking in Spanish with each other. That is simply the nature of the beast with this exciting story to come, and we hope you enjoy!

Bogotá, Colombia 1987

Prostitution is the oldest profession in the world. Removed from the skills that took the cavemen beyond the hunter/gatherer roles that had prevailed during the ends of the last Ice Age and had allowed less nomadic lifestyles. Farming and growing crops had become possible and their limited technology had slowly advanced from rocks and sticks to weapons and electricity. Still, selling sex was the same. Except instead of food or hides in exchange for a warm cunt, it was cash and sometimes information.

Who knows if things are any more or less complicated now than they used to be. Or if things haven't basically stayed the same on an emotional level as the whole world has changed around its oldest profession. Whether the women and men who make their hard-earned living providing pleasure, solace, and distraction even waste their time thinking about how things used to be. It isn't what you talk about with them, anyway. Coming to Medellín's brothels isn't something you do for philosophy or soul searching. You, like so many other customers, are here because you need something. And, like so many others, it seems like the thing you came for is not what the workers here know you actually need. Coming to these women for information had turned into some very real friendships over the course of the few months you have been in Colombia, though that was never your intention for coming to see Freckles and Vanessa in the beginning.

Vanessa stands in front of the mirror, her back to you, long black hair cascading down her back to her bare ass. Plumping her lips, she reapplies the dark pink lipstick that compliments her tawny skin. Dark eyes flickering over to you as you lay in the bed, just as naked. She smirks slightly and goes back to her task. “You never try out any of the men here.” She observes. “Why?”

"Women are better at eating pussy," you reply through a haze of smoke, enjoying the ritual of a post-orgasm cigarette. It's a pithy reply, but telling her the truth feels too vulnerable. Or maybe it's too vulnerable and too dirty. It's probably both.

She snorts. “Then you haven’t met the right kind of men.” She turns around, her nudity something that she’s completely unashamed of, especially with someone that she had just fucked. “One of my favorite pussy eaters will be here later.”

"I hope I'm on that list, too." The grin you flash her is playful, not serious in the least, although you do hope she doesn't dread seeing you come through the door as a customer. Just because you like to chat afterward and have occasionally spent time together outside of these walls doesn't mean you're at the top of her client list.

“Favorite male pussy eater.” She clarifies, walking over to you and leaning down to press her newly colored lips to yours and steal a puff of your cigarette. “Surprisingly attentive. But you are my favorite customer overall.”

"You flatter me." Careful not to smudge her lipstick, you shift slightly on the bed to offer her a place to lounge if she wants to. Vanessa is one of the only people you don't mind laying around entirely naked with – she's been upfront with you about her love of plump women and made you feel very beautiful along with it.

She lays down and passes the filtered Marlboro back to you. It’s nice to have the American cigarettes when you are here. She sighs softly. “La Quica was here a few days ago.” She tells you quietly, her fingers finding the meat of your thigh and she caresses it gently.

"In a mood, or feeling cocky?" You ask, running the fingers of your free hand through her hair. She likes the soothing motion and it helps you think. Whenever La Quica comes by he either crows like a cartoon bird or he broods and ends up scaring the shit out of some of the girls.

“Freckles is…recovering.” She admits, her jaw tense and teeth clenched together. “Which is going to put Javier in a mood when he finds out.”

"Javier's your other pussy eater?" The gentle question comes with filing away the information that you should go and check on Freckles before you leave today.

She hums in agreement and sighs, flipping onto her side and watching her fingers as they move over your skin. “He’s another American. DEA.”

The way you have to put decided effort into not tensing or physically reacting to this information in any way leaves your blood feeling like ice. While you might not spend the majority of your day-to-day at the American Embassy, you surely spend enough time there gathering quotes and following leads to know who Javier the American DEA agent is. Swallowing down the information and filing it away for later, you stub out the butt of your cigarette and bend your leg to give Vanessa something to lean against. "Oh yeah? Another American?" You force some amusement into your voice and smirk at her teasingly. "I think you might have a type, Nessa."

“You pay more.” She teases back, smirking as she slides her hand up to cup your cunt. “Of course I like Americans.”

"Clever," you tease, rolling your eyes at her like she's told a joke instead of making an incredibly practical decision.

Laughing, her hand drifts up to your breast. “Don’t be offended.” She huffs. “I like you a lot more than most of the people who pay for my time.”

"I'm not offended," you tell her honestly. "It's good decision making if nothing else." The threat of an incoming casual acquaintance does make you think twice about hanging around though, and you glance at your watch on the nightstand before leaning over to kiss her again. "You're more than just my favorite fuck, Nessa," you assure her with a wink. "You're also my friend, and I'm not going to begrudge you the chance to make as much money as you can off whoever walks through that door."

She can tell you are ready to get dressed. There’s an impatience to most Americans when they are restless. An undercurrent to their tone, even in Spanish. You and Javier are very much alike in that way, which is ironic.

Sitting up, you pause for a moment before leaning back again to look her in the eyes. “Is Freckles okay? Really?” La Quica can be…well, violent is being generous. And the sicarios tend to view working girls as punching bags as much as anything else.

“She will be.” Vanessa promises, sitting up and climbing off the bed again. “Helena is looking after her. The girls are all pitching in to pay for anything she needs.”

That makes you frown, and you reach for your purse. Pulling out double the money you would usually pay and handing it to Vanessa, you shake your head when she sighs softly in reticence. "Take it," you insist, still holding out the bills. "The least I can do is contribute to the funds."

“You don’t need to do that.” She reluctantly takes it after you refuse to take half of it back. “I’ll give it to Freckles.” She promises.

“If I knew a doctor or a nurse I could trust, I’d bring them in and foot the bill myself.” Not having that resource when they clearly need it needles at you, but there is quite nothing you can do about it in this moment. “If she ends up needing more, or needing a doctor, will you promise to tell me?” Even if Vanessa promises there is only a fifty or so percent chance she’ll actually do it, but your concern stands.

“I will.” Vanessa sighs as she puts the cash away in a drawer. It’s dangerous to leave money out when another client could come in. Especially American dollars. “We took her to the clinic the nuns run. They need nurses but it was better than no one.”

“Good.” You’re swift to dress — a basic personal uniform of panties, bra, jeans, and a blouse never needing much fuss. It does get you a few odd looks when you go around the embassy in denim but to most of the employees there you’re that journalist already anyway. “Is it okay if I come around again in a few days to check on my favorite girls?” If La Quica got physical there was a reason for his anger. Some of the other girls might be next, and if that happens you want to know.

“You never need to ask if you can come by.” Vanessa turns and sends you a sultry smirk and a wink. Even though the sex is nothing more than a business transaction, she enjoys spending time with you. Plus there were interesting conversations with the girls about the two Americans that visit this brothel.

"I don't want you guys to start dreading my appearance." It's easy to brush it off with a wink and a smile. You both do it. Freckles does it. Helena does it. You've met a million men in your life who do it. A wink and a smile lets everything slide off your back – until the middle of the night when every awful though comes back to haunt you. But for now you grab your purse and lean over to give Vanessa one more kiss before she lights another cigarette. "See you later, Nessa."

“Later, love.” Her relationship with you is complicated and easy. You fuck, you talk, you go about your day. The fact that she knows more about you than you know about yourself is a non-issue right now. “You should go on a date.” She calls out with a laugh. “You’re too pretty to pay all the time.”

"Easier said than done, gorgeous!" You call back, and wave once before turning down the hallway that leads to the front door.

Taking a drag off her cigarette, she smiles as she blows out the smoke at the ceiling. If you only knew how alike you were to your soulmate, you would hate it.

******

The sun has set while you've been inside. Going to see Vanessa was a spur of the moment decision after a lead on a story didn't pan out and you had decided that fucking away your frustration was the way to go. Now, as you slip out the front door of the brothel and out of the gate to where you parked your junker of a car up the street, Bogotá is starting to take on its second life. There will be plenty of noise and people dancing the night away at the restaurant two floors under your apartment, and the white noise of an active city will lull you to sleep tonight just like it has for your whole life.

Javier Peña steps out of his Jeep, pulling at his belt slightly from where the jeans don’t sit quite right and shakes his hand as he walks towards the brothel. Feeling jittery and slightly needy as he steps in the familiar path. Helena couldn’t come to him for some reason, busy with her kid or something, so he had decided to take her up on her suggestion to visit Vanessa. She is a good time as well and normally had information to sell. The woman walking towards him looks familiar, but he can’t place where he’s seen her, striding by confidently with her purse firmly in hand. She doesn’t even spare him a glance but he can’t help but twist his head around and watch the curvy ass bounce past him tauntingly, making his cock twitch in his jeans as he imagines what it would be like to push inside her. Fuck. He needs to get laid.

"Hey, Javi." One of the newer girls is milling around in the front room when he comes in, but new or otherwise, all the girls have heard about the American DEA agent with deep pockets and a taste for their company. They're also always told that he has favorites, but every one of the new girls thinks they could be his new favorite if they just try.

“Hey…” he scrounges for her name. “Rita.” He sends her an easy smile and looks around to see if he can spot Vanessa. Rita is pretty, but he’s certain that Helena pointed him towards Vanessa for a reason. “‘Nessa with a client or she available?” He asks, looking back at the other girl with an assessing look. She’s a little young for him, but she’s pretty.

Rita's smile droops instantly, and she huffs as she turns to move behind the bar that they keep stocked in the front room. "Her last customer just left," she tells Javi, and points toward Vanessa's room.

“Thanks.” He nods at her, aware that she’s pouty that he’s not letting her take him to her room, but he doesn’t dwell on it as he walks down the hall towards the brightly painted door. This brothel is nicer than some, almost elegant. Shuffling slightly, he wishes he had a cigarette as he knocks.

"Come in!" Vanessa hasn't bothered to get dressed since you left, just thrown on a thin robe and tidied up the bed to sprawl out on it for a while until Javi comes by.

Javi quickly opens the door, eyes immediately drinking in the casual pose and skimpy clothing and hums in approval. “Vanessa.”

"Javier." She purrs his name happily, shifting on the bed to turn subtly in his direction but also so she can watch his eyes drag down to her cunt as she spreads her legs. He looks hungry today. "Come all the way in, handsome."

The door is kicked closed behind him and he’s not wearing a jacket, so it’s one less thing to shuck as he starts to undress. Obviously Vanessa knows why he’s here, but her cunt is slick with arousal and he wonders if she was playing with herself before he showed up.

Hungry. She was right. Vanessa pushes up onto her knees on the mattress and tangles her fingers in Javi's shirt. It pulls him closer but also helps him undress faster, which is something he clearly needs tonight. "Did you miss me that much, baby?" She hums, running her other palm along his chest as soon as his skin is bared.

He almost rolls his eyes at the endearment, but he doesn’t. He knows some men like their egos stroked, but he would rather she pay attention to his cock. Leaning forward, he answers her with a kiss, hot and urgent as his hands peel the robe off her lithe body. Suddenly thinking about the rounded curves on the woman he had passed coming in.

Alright. No need for verbal foreplay this time. Vanessa checks that effort off the list and haul Javi into her bed. He'll fuck first and talk later if he even needs to talk at all, so she pushes him down on his back and works open his jeans to have his cock in her hands as fast as he needs it.

The girls here always give him what he needs and he breaks away from her lips to start kissing down her chest to take a nipple into his mouth. He loves sex, losing himself in it and finding that it blocks out the doubt, the worry. The guilt. It’s forgotten as he chases that bliss that settles into his bones after an orgasm.

His jeans go, tossed on the floor without a second thought just like his shirt, and Vanessa doesn’t care about it either. Javi never wears underwear so it’s always directly to the point — his cock in her mouth and down her throat, fingers wrapped around the base until he grunts and twitches on her tongue. That’s when he pulls her off and gets her on her hands and knees instead, fucking the life and sense out of her as he tries to block out whatever demons follow so closely at his heels that he has been running from them every day for years without gaining any ground. In other moods, he’ll take his time or have her different ways. But when he’s hungry like this it’s always animalistic and needy. With Javi, she and Freckles and Helena don’t have to fake their noises. Or their orgasms. But they do have to fake nonchalance about his life. They know far more than he realizes.

His fingers slide between the folds of her sex and he groans. “So wet.” He quickly coats them in the slick and pushes two thick fingers deep inside her, loving way her breath catches in her throat. “I know it’s not for me.” He hums, flicking his tongue over her nipple. “But I’m going to use it.”

“She always gets wet for you, Javi.” Vanessa promises him, and that isn’t bluster. Some of their clients require more than a fair share of lube just to make things palatable. Javi? Not at all. He might be paying but he’s still giving pleasure while he takes it.

He snorts, smirking slightly at the curve of her breast as he pumps his fingers in and out of her. “Have you cum today?” He wants to know so he can make sure that if she’s hadn’t, he would make her cum more than once.

“T—twice.” His long fingers reach deeper inside her than yours had and Vanessa’s head tips back on a moan so he can hear her loud and clear.

“Hmmmm.” Javier isn’t jealous, he has no reason or right to be. She isn’t his. “Good, sweetheart. Then you can cum for me and then I won’t feel bad about putting your legs up on my shoulders and making you soak your bed.”

She doesn’t doubt that he could do it. He’s made Freckles cum so hard her vision whited out, and Helena had told them the story of a time she had gone to his place for a marathon session when he was particularly frustrated about something to do with work. She doesn’t doubt him, but she’s also not asking for any miracles. “Whatever you want to do,” she reminds him, voice strained just a touch from the angle her head is tipped back at.

He knows that’s how the game is played, but he doesn’t particularly like when his partners don’t enjoy themselves. “Good girl.” He murmurs, taking advantage of her head being pressed back into the pillow as he works her cunt on his fingers. His kisses have a little bit of teeth to them. Not enough to mark, but scrapes to hear her moan when he drags his teeth over her pulse. “Your cunt feels so good around my fingers, beautiful.”

“It’ll feel even better around your cock,” she reminds him, sighing happily with the next thrust of his hand and wrapping her own back around his hard on.

“I know it will.” He growls, working her on his fingers as he feels the need start to build in his body. Waiting will make it even more relaxing when he finally cums. Pouring out his frustrations and fears into the willing body of this beautiful woman and quieting the doubts that rattle around in his head.

Javier Peña fucks, and paid or otherwise, everyone who had ever gone to bed with him know this. The only emotions he is consciously pouring out areas the frustrations of the day and a desperate need to feel, so the woman in his arms is always going to feel him just as deeply as he feels his frustrations. Vanessa’s hips jerk against his palm, writhing with the tempo of his ministrations, until she gladly throws her head back to keen his name for at least the first time tonight.

He loves women. Their smell, their sounds, the way they tremble under a touch that is making them quiver in pleasure. “Cum for me.” He still thinks about that other woman, the thicker woman from the street. Wondering if she had been here. He pushes that thought away when Vanessa clenches down around his fingers again. “That’s it.”

"Fuck, Javi." She'll give him the satisfaction of seeing her all sprawled out and panting for him for a few seconds before she moves again. It isn't hard, after all. The two clients she's had today are her favorites for a reason.

His wet fingers caress her hip before he’s turning her onto her stomach and pulling her to her knees. “Beautiful.” He groans, bending down to kiss along her back.

"And now you've got this pretty pussy dripping all over again," she purrs, looking back at him over her shoulder.

His cock lines up easily and he snaps his hips forward to buried himself deep, knowing she can take it. “Fuck.” He hisses, loving how her cunt squeezes him tight. “Fuck.”

Not so long as to be painful, but long enough and thick enough to make her feel incredibly feel, Vanessa rolls her hips back to him and lowers herself onto her elbows to brace herself against whatever pace he decides to set. "Feels so fucking good, baby." She loves not having to lie or perform, the time she spends with Javi is much more desirable for it.

He gives her a moment, knowing that he is girthy enough to need to adjust to him. It doesn’t matter how many men she fucks daily. He groans and twitches inside her. “So good, sweetheart.” He hums. “So good.”

Vanessa lets him set the pace once she's adjusted to the feel of him inside her, rocking back into his hips and letting out an encouraging moan. If Javi needs to relieve his stress, she will happily help him with that. He doesn’t start out full tilt. Letting the pace build until the slap of his hips against her ass is just as loud as his grunts, her muffled cries. Every thrust a release for him and making him pull back quicker. Losing himself in her body.

The rhythm of their bodies and creak of the shaking bed weave a kind of hypnotic trance for both of them, letting them dissolve into animalistic sounds of greed and need without any need for traditional vocabulary. It's the perfect escape from thought – something everyone needs at least once in a while. Only the smell of sex and sweat and the sound of fucking fills their senses as Javi and Vanessa work to fuck each other breathless.

His fingers dig into her hips, holding her steady as he plows into her. Watching her ass bounce and shake from the force of his thrusts. It’s not going to last too much longer from the way his body is start to prime itself and he hunches over her, sliding fingers to her clit to rub that sensitive little nub.

Vanessa's panting picks up, her back bowed and her cheek against the crumpled blankets while he moves over her at an increasingly frantic pace. He's close and she wants him to take everything he needs on the way.

“Fuck.” Javi hisses, gritting his teeth to hold back. “Come on, Vanessa, give me one more.” He begs. “Cum for me.”

She's close enough that his next thrust pushes a groan out of her along with a whimper of assent, and if he were the kind of man who was into that she would be calling him Papí and begging him to let her cum. Javi has never been much for permissions or honorifics, though. There's an honesty to the fierocity that he fucks with that Vanessa appreciates.

“Fuck, that’s it, cum. Cum!” He growls, pulling her upright and holding her against his body as his thrusts sharply into her.

The force of his thrusts and the change in angle pushes her over the edge with a rapturous cry, and Vanessa clings to his arm to make sure she doesn't fall over as he chases his own orgasm with unyielding thrusts. The gush of her cunt makes him moan in her ear. Eyes closing in bliss as he gives in to the needs of his body and thrusts deep a final time. Pouring hot waves of himself into her body as he wrings himself dry.

"Fuck, Jav." Vanessa laughs, her legs wobbling as he hangs onto her and keeps them both upright. It just a minute they'll tip over and end up sharing a cigarette sprawled out on her bed, which makes it the second time today that she'll have done that with a client.

“You’ll have to give me a minute if you want to go again.” Javier pants in her ear, smirking and kissing her lobe gently to make up for the marks of his teeth that were made while he was cumming. He tends to bite unconsciously but always soothes it away.

"Take your time." She chuckles, stretching luxuriously as they both plop down on the mattress to catch their breath.

He chuckles and pats her hip as he eases out of her. Sighing in satisfaction and staring up at the ceiling.

There is enough routine here – enough knowledge of each other – that Vanessa reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out a cigarette and her lighter, savoring the first drag herself before handing it over to Javi. If he wants to talk he will, and he almost always does. But sometimes he enjoys a few minutes to just think of nothing, so she won't take that from him.

The cigarette is gladly accepted, breathed into his lungs and he lets the nicotine spreads through his system and mellows him even more. “I didn’t see Freckles or Helena.” He observes quietly.

"Freckles is...resting." Enigmatic replies don't go far with Javi, Vanessa knows that, but since she knows he's going to be angry she hopes that he'll just accept it for once. Highly unlikely, of course, but a girl can hope.

He catches the hesitation and he braces himself for the answer to the question that he will ask. “Who?” He asks simply, knowing she will understand what he means.

Vanessa sighs, pinching her eyes shut and wishing she hadn't said anything. "La Quica."

Javier tenses, his hand that had been stroking her thigh freezes. “Bad?”

"She'll be okay." She will. At least that isn't a lie or simply wishful thinking. Freckles will be fine. But right now she doesn't look it.

Javi turns his head and his eyes bore into hers, gauging the truth in them. “What set him off?” He asks, sitting up and reaching for his pants.

"He was too drunk to keep it up and he blamed it on her." It's not as though he was the first client to have that problem by any means, or the first to be angry about it, or the first to take it out on the girl he had hired. La Quica just has a particular ability to always take things too far. "It's not like it's a new problem around here."

He knows that. The girls have a dangerous job and some of the unfortunate ones had paid the highest price when their client got too angry, or vicious. He clenches his jaw as he pulls out his wallet and pulls out several folded hundred-dollar bills. “Give this to her.” He tells Vanessa, twisting around to hand her the money.

"Javi..." She shakes her head, it being the second time today that she's been offered far too much money to help Freckles by someone who technically owes the girls nothing.

“Take it.” He waves it towards her again. It will all be expensed out anyway. Why not let some of Uncle Sam’s money go where it can actually help for once? She reluctantly takes it and Javi relaxes slightly. “My partner’s wife is a nurse.” He offers. “I could bring Freckles to her.” From what he’s seen from Steve Murphy, he would never let his pretty little wife near a brothel, but he could have her come to his apartment.

"Between you and–" Vanessa shuts her mouth and shakes her head again, but tucks the bills away in the same drawer where she put your donation to Freckles' well being. "We have enough to pay." She tells him, grateful that he would offer regardless. "It doesn't have to be a charity case."

“It’s not charity.” Javier steps into his jeans and pulls them up over his hips, tucking his cock away. The idea of another round was killed by the grim realities of the professions they work in. He wonders who she had been about to say, but figures it might be another regular. “You also need to put some away for when this isn’t an option.”

"What do Americans call it?" She looks up at him as he dresses and wishes the relaxed bubble of post-orgasm relaxation hadn't been popped so abruptly. "A rainy day fund?"

“Slush fund.” Javi huffs in amusement, turning towards her and deciding to sit back down and leans in to kiss her.

"That's it." The returned kiss is soothing. Appreciative. And slightly amused. "I knew I had heard something like that." From her other American regular customer. And what an irony that is.

“You should relax the rest of the night.” Javi murmurs, stealing one last kiss before he pulls away again. Needing to get dressed and see Carillo.

"I'll try." It's nice of him to suggest it, but she does have to work if someone shows up for her. That's how the job works.

Once he’s dressed, gun reattached to his hip, Javi reaches out and pinches her chin softly. “Be good.” He murmurs, winking at her before he turns around to walk out of her room.

"Never." Vanessa calls back, shaking her head a little as he strolls out into the hall and settling back on her bed. She'll clean up and then go and check on Freckles, but she's going to allow herself a second to breathe first.

Javi’s easy smile slips into a frown as he steps out of the brothel. The dim lap light makes him look even more forbidding as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. Taking a drag as he looks around the deserted street and then marches towards his jeep with the determined gait of a man on a mission.

******

A bare five minute later, Vanessa taps lightly on Freckles' door, the four rhythmic knocks letting the girls inside know it's one of them and not a customer. Helena opens the door a crack with worry in her eyes, but relaxes the second she sees Vanessa in her robe. "You've had a busy day," she observes, stepping back to let the other woman in and shutting the door tight behind her.

“Both of our favorite customers.” She snorts and walks towards the bed. Freckles looks horrible, her face still swollen and the bruises garish on her normally beautiful features. She sits down and takes her friend’s hand. “They both are upset you are ‘ill’.” She tells the other girl.

"Javi must be pissed if you told him the truth," Freckles observes, resting amongst her pillows and grateful for the respite of a few days to heal. Yesterday even talking was excruciating.

“I think that’s an understatement.” Vanessa murmurs, pulling the money out of her pocket and pressing it into Freckles’ hand. “Both of them were angry, but Javier left before round two.”

"That's furious in Javi terms." Helena leans over, inspecting the bills, and bites her lips when she looks back at Vanessa. "Both of them?" She asks, seeing the amount there.

She nods, shaking her head with a small chuckle. “So goddamn alike it’s almost comical.”

"Have they ever even met?" They haven't that Helena can remember, but it's not as though she keeps close tabs on either of them.

“Not that I know of.” She shrugs. “I honestly don’t know if they want to meet.” All three women have heard their views on soulmates.

"What if we want them to meet?" Freckles sips a glass of water and laughs at the very thought of it. "Can you imagine? Running into each other here of all places?"

The other two women laugh, knowing that each of you would be defensive for different reasons. “They might have seen each other on the street.” Vanessa admits. “She left right before Javi got here.”

"Does she even like men?" It had astonished Helena the first time she'd seen the matching marks for herself, but the fact of soulmates is pretty undeniable when it's right in front of her nose. "She always sees one of the three of us. I don't think I've ever even heard her talk about a man."

“She said that women are better pussy eaters, so I assume she has some male reference.” Vanessa laughs. “I don’t know for sure though.”

"And she's absolutely not wrong." Helena steals a drink of Freckles' water and lays back with Vanessa on her other side. "At least she won't be disappointed in her soulmate if they ever end up in bed together."

“I love the days Javi wants to go down on me.” Vanessa agrees. “Normally he wants me to ride after too.”

"You've got a thumbprint bruise blooming on your hip, baby." Helena observes with a tilt of her head. "Was he already worked up when he came in? He normally doesn't get rough otherwise."

“A little.” She admits with a grin. “It was more of a work up to that fast and furious pace that makes you squeal.”

"I almost hope that man never leaves the country." As much as she is trying to work things out and get away herself, Helena still has her doubts that it will pan out. In the meantime? She is very much appreciative of the few clients like Javi they have in their lives.

“I know, he has you come over to his apartment.” Vanessa nudges the other woman’s foot playfully. “Is it messy?”

“No messier than he is here.” Helena shrugs. Once, on a night that has become a very fun story that she keeps for just herself and her closest friends, Javi had actually made her squirt. That was messy.

“So….a little rough around the edges but mostly contained.” Freckles hums. “He’s probably the one man I could see falling for. As stupid as that is.”

“We’d all be in a hell of a lot of trouble if we let ourselves think like that,” Helena points out, despite having had the same thought more times than she cares to admit.

“I know, which is why I don’t let myself think like that unless things are really bad.” Right now, things are bad for her, so it’s a nice little escape.

“You dream all you want right now, honey.” Vanessa urges, soothing one hand over Freckles’ thigh in gentle strokes. “While I’m thinking of it…” she looks between the other girls. “Javi’s partner’s wife is a nurse. Said we can bring you to her to get you checked out. I honestly don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

“Is it that bad?” Freckles ask, having been afraid to look in the mirror at the damage.

“I think you’ll heal just fine, sweetheart,” Vanessa assures her, her soothing hand doubling down on gentle gestures. “But she might be able to help with pain. Or getting it to settle down and heal faster. And…nicer.” They work in a job where their beauty is an asset, and it would not be the first time that a customer’s brutality left one of the girls without that particular asset, making it harder for her to work.

“Hopefully she’s not a bitch.” Freckles sigh, resigned to the fact that it would be a good idea. “Or think we are fucking her husband.”

“I don’t think he would have suggested it if he thought she would be a bitch to us,” Helena points out, though it might be wishful thinking.

“He doesn’t tolerate much shit.” Vanessa adds, wishing she had some alcohol to help them relax.

Helena nods, knowing that’s true, and adds: “And if she turns out to be a cunt? We’ll leave.”

“I will call him.” Helena offers, shooting them both a smile. “And maybe he will want me to stay after.” She jokes.

“Maybe.” Vanessa smiles, knowing that Helena is attached and that some of the girls suspect Javi might even be a little attached to her. Mostly the whispers are jealous, but Vanessa tries not to be.

Freckles hums and when she twists to get comfortable, she groans in pain. “I— if you think it’s alright.” She concedes softly.

“You should rest, honey.” Vanessa coos softly. “Helena will call Javi and find out when we can take you to the nurse. We’ll get you better in no time.”

Nodding, the injured woman closes her eyes and sighs softly, trying to relax.

******

It's past dark when you get home, the nightlife of Bogotá coming alive around you as the city pours out onto the streets to celebrate the night of another day. The club on the ground floor of your building has just opened for the night, and you slip past the bouncer with a friendly wave to have a drink and say hello before heading upstairs to solitude for the night. You do have work to do, but it's nice to at least see Inez and soak up a little of the atmosphere before it gets too busy. The crowds won't be out in earnest for another few hours.

Before you even sit down at the bar, there is a drink in front of you. Inez smiling at you as she leans back to grab her rag and wipe up a little of the condensation from another patron’s beer bottle. “Surprised to see you here.” She hums.

“I was feeling social.” Is your excuse, but it’s more like you know you’re probably going to be hunched over your typewriter for a while and you wanted something nice before resigning yourself to that fate. “Besides. You make the best Coco Loco in Bogotá, why would I miss out on that?”

“You shouldn’t.” She snorts, watching as you pick up the glass and take a sip. She likes the hum of approval you give and when your drink is already halfway down, she pours the rest of the drink from the mixer into the glass. “What have you been up to today?”

“Work. Mostly.” Even your stop to see Vanessa could technically be considered work since you learned a bit about the tone of what’s going on with the sicarios lately. “I have to write something up to send to my editor.”

“They can’t expect you to come down, spend a week and have the story of the year, can they?” Inez snorts, not sure why Americans are so interested in Colombia. She enjoys you being here, but it’s strange to think of how involved they are with her country.

“I need at least a few inches to prove it’s worth the expense of bankrolling me down here.” After about a month in the country you’ve only managed to send back copies of your notes and drafts of actual article inches. You’re working at it, but the story down here is so much larger than you thought that it’s taking time to get all the puzzle pieces together.

“Have you given any thought to my idea?” She asks, certain you have already dismissed it.

“Actually, I did.” Inez had been the one to suggest that the working girls of the city might have far more information than some others because of braggarts with wagging tongues. And she was very right. “They’ve been my best source so far, so thank you for that. Most of my running around the past few days has been following up on things they told me.” You’ve also been a paying customer since the suggestion was put to you, but your neighbor doesn’t necessarily need to know that. Inez has been a good friend but if you didn’t live across the hall from her she probably wouldn’t have given you a second thought, which is fine.

“Good.” She smirks slightly and shrugs. “They are a good group of girls. Just have some shitty luck.”

“Everybody has shitty luck sometimes. Nobody deserves to get judged for it.” You shrug a little, enjoying the alcoholic bite of the coconut cocktail. “Or judged for what their job is. And those girls get plenty of bullshit. I promise you, they’re not getting any grief from me.”

Another customer comes up to the bar, so Inez quickly shifts over to them, a bright smile and quick smatter of small talk to hopefully get better tips.

There isn’t much business yet, which is normal, but you take a few minutes to survey the early arrivals. There is a group of women that comes twice every week without fail — coworkers, a group between three or even six of them who come to each dinner and stay until the party picks up. You’ve figured out from eavesdropping and the types of clothes they arrive in that their office closes just as the club opens. A pair of men that you’ve seen before files in after them. They’ve been here twice before but tonight they look far more excited than the previous visits. Good for them, you think, smiling to yourself when you see their hands brush and fingers twine momentarily as they sit down in a booth.

The man who just sat two stools down from you at the bar is new. Or at least new to you. Inez bats her eyelashes and flirts, making an art of mixing his drink and gets a large bill handed to her in return. She winks as she walks away, back in your direction.

Sliding to a stop in front of you, she turns her head to make sure the man is occupied with the mirror over the bar that gives him a sweeping view of the place. “CIA.” She murmurs quietly, motioning over to him.

“Seriously?” You’ve seen them around the embassy but not often enough or close up enough that you would recognize one of them out in the wild. Clearly.

“Mmmmhmmmm.” She glances over at him again. “Maybe I should introduce you? Or you think you can manage that yourself?”

Glancing to your side again, you consider what better or worse end might come from that kind of thing and hum to yourself quietly. "If nobody shows up for him before his next round," you murmur to Inez, swirling the watery remains of your own drink. "Put the next one on my tab and tell him I sent it. We'll see if that gets him talking."

She smirks and nods. “You are a smart girl.” She promises before looking past you to take the ticket from on of the waitresses that work the booths.

"I do my best," you sigh as she walks away, but sometimes it really feels like your best just isn't enough.

The club starts to fill up, the music gradually increasing until it’s a thumping rhythm showcasing the hottest dance music. Bodies start to move, but the man next to you just watches the mirror.

“Waiting for someone?” It’s a risk. Chatting someone up at a bar is always a risk. But considering you know what he does, you’re going to switch to English and how he feels infatuated to talk to you just by virtue of being a compatriot.

It’s always intriguing to hear English, so he turns to look at you. Knowing that he recognizes you from somewhere around the Embassy. “Not really.” He admits, taking another sip of his drink and glancing at your left hand. “You?”

“Not really.” It’s a crap shoot with men, you’ve found. Whether they’re bothered by the fact that you’re not a stick or willing to go for any old cunt they think they can fuck. Women tend to have more appreciation for a plush figure. Thankfully this CIA agent only seems concerned with the lack of ring on your left hand. Well, that’s fine. “Have I seen you around somewhere?” You ask, turning a little on your stool to be facing him. The fact that you know the answer already doesn’t matter.

“Don’t know, where have you been hanging out?” He asks, catching the cute bartender’s eye and motioning for another round of drinks for you and him.

“I went by the American embassy last week.” Trying to make it seem like nothing so he doesn’t put his walls up in front of a journalist, you shrug and just say, “Paper work” as an excuse.

“Gotcha.” He doesn’t offer up what he does, despite some throwing it around like a badge of honor, he prefers to be low key. “Are you visiting?”

"Trying to find myself," is your enigmatic answer, though it is technically about ninety percent a lie. That wistful, dreamy part of you that read Gabriel García Márquez novels and fantasized about finding love with exotic sunsets in the background in still hoping you might be able to scrounge some truth about yourself out of this assignment. But really? It's work. "You?"

“Work.” He answers simply, nodding towards Inez as she sets two new glasses down in front of you both and grins. “Decided to see what the night life is like here.”

"This place stays busy until all hours of the night. Party music and people dancing, shouting, all of it." Still not quite sure what might get this stalwart CIA agent to crack even a little, to give you anything, you mentally shrug and decide to go for the old standby. The expression on his face wonders how you could know what this place is like – if you're a regular maybe, or just like to haunt the bar here. So you offer, "I rent an apartment upstairs."

“Really?” His interest perks, like a dog that’s caught a scent. He reaches for his drink and sends you a smile. “What’s that like? I bet it’s…noisy.”

"It can be." Bingo. Hooked the fish, you think, prouder of yourself than you probably ought to be. "But sometimes I like to make just as much noise."

“Doubt anyone down here could hear that.” He glances back up at the mirror. “Can you see the bar from up there?”

"You can see the street." It's an odd question, but you don't fight it. "From my living room windows, I mean. The door to get upstairs...and my bedroom...those don't face the street." He's sniffing around for something from you, too. You can feel it. But you're just not sure what.

He nods and leans back to look at you. Assessing you. “So no one can really see you come and go.” He hums. “That’s smart. Safe. A pretty woman like you needs to take precautions.”

Something in his tone doesn't sound entirely sincere, but since you're not either, you're not going to hold it against him. "I'm a city girl," you assure him with a demure smile, pretending like you're hiding being flustered behind your drink as you take a sip. "I know how to look out for myself."

“That’s good.” He sends you a confident smirk. “I’m Alex.” He offers, leaning close. “What’s your name?”

You tell him, though he’ll probably end up calling a condescending ‘sweetheart’ if anything at all, and decide to lean a little closer just to put an edge in the flirtation. He isn’t bad looking, after all, or rude. He hasn’t been misogynistic to you tonight or haughty. He just seems quite bland overall, which isn’t a sin even if it does make something in the back of your mind dread the idea of seeing your soulmate’s scars on him when his shirt comes off later. The tattoo on his thigh. Your own scars marking memories that your soulmate would have felt but never shared.

Nope. Stop thinking about shit like that. Soulmates are for saps.

“That’s a beautiful name.” He admits, taking another sip of his drink and repeats it. “Do you want to talk somewhere a little quieter?” He asks suggestively.

“I think I know a place.” Pointedly looking up to the ceiling, you slip the strap of your purse onto your shoulder and slide gracefully off of your stool. Inez has been keeping one eye on you, and you give her a subtle nod to promise her that everything is okay as your new friend Alex shifts onto his own feet.

Alex pulls out his wallet and puts down the money for the drinks and a hearty tip. Wanting to make sure that the bartender stays warm to him. This club is important and he needs to be welcomed.

"Have a good night." Inez calls you by name, wanting there to be no mistake that if anything even vaguely out of the ordinary happens to you or around you, she will know and she will know who is responsible.

"Night," you call back, allowing yourself to be lead out of the club, though you know you'll have to lead the way from there.

“Have you been here long?” Alex asks as you lead him towards the stairs to your apartment. It’s ingenious to say the least and he’s glad he had sat at the bar tonight rather than a booth.

"About a month." The charming smile on your lips as you head up the stairs around the tight corner of the club's back hall is girlish. Smitten. And a put on. You're still wondering if he's going to spill the fac that he's CIA or if you're going to have to hope he talks in his sleep. "It's not a lot of space, but I'm just one girl." One girl who typically has all of her work spread out on nearly every surface in the apartment. Thank god you went on frustration-induced cleaning bender yesterday.

“I don’t like having a lot of space if it’s just me.” Alex admits, looking around the small little hallways for any type of security. “More to clean.”

“That’s true, I guess. Smaller is easier.” As you lead the way up the stairs, a large caramel-colored lump on the top of the stairs starts to growl menacingly and lift its sizable head. Teeth bare at the sight of a man behind you, but you hustle up the stairs and coo gently to the enormous mastiff in a sweet voice. “Hey Chi-Chi. How’s my girl?” Immediately the dog stands, bumping her head into the hand you’ve reached out toward her and snuggling into you for pets. She is a living security system that really loves snuggles.

“Yours?” Alex stopped at the first growl, watching warily as the size of the dog is revealed. She’s obviously a big breed and doesn’t take kindly to strangers.

“My landlady,” you explain, still coping at the enormous dog in a mix of English and Spanish that she is obviously used to and enjoys. “There are a few single women in this building, so she taught her dog to sleep on the stairs and guard us. Didn’t she, Chi-Chi baby?” It’s a good system, and you smother the dog’s large head in kisses one more time before coming back down a few stairs and bringing Alex forward by the hand. “She hates men.” Is your casual addition to the thought as you lead him down a short hallway.

“All the time?” He asks, looking behind him at the dog as he expects her to attack him. “Or just those she doesn’t know?”

“If you come around more than once, I’ll teach her to like you.” Something tells you to very much doubt it, but you just try to toss him a semi-charming smile while you dig in your purse for the key to your apartment.

“Well I guess it all depends on how tonight goes, hmm?” He asks, stepping closer and grabbing hold of your thick hips. “If you invite me back.”

“I guess you better impress me.” When your fingers close around your keys at the same time his find your hips, you look back over your shoulder and find a little smirk curling in the corner of your mouth. “Good start.”

He chuckles as you open the door, shuffling in behind you and he nudges it closed with his foot. “Then let’s see where we go from here.”

Inside the door, you drop your purse and keys on the side table, flip the lock on the door so you won’t be disturbed, and finally turn around in Alex’s arms to let your fingers trail through the hair on the back of his neck. “Let’s see,” you agree, already feeling his shoulders drop as he bends down to press his lips to yours. No pre-destined bullshit or obligation in sight, the fact that he isn’t your soulmate speaks to you. Your life. Your choice. And tonight the choice is him.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

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[bloomingdarkgarden]

Elain’s Lumpy Sweaters

An Elriel Headcanon

Elain has taken up knitting and knits everyone in the IC sweaters every fall. She’s not very good yet but intent on practicing. The sweaters are lumpy and sort of sad albeit in a cozy and lovable way. Endearingly ill-fitting for the most part. A variety of colors are involved ranging from rust to tawny to grey to olive. The family is too kind to say anything to her. They mostly just sport the lumpy scarves she knits instead out of politeness.

No one wears the sweaters. Except Azriel.

Cassian and Rhys balk when they initially see him in one. It’s the first time he’s worn anything aside from black in 500 hundred years.

Azriel literally says nothing about it and just reviews murder reports in Elain’s lumpy sweaters. He begins to do so daily. Just to drive the point home. Just to see her eyes light up a room.

Elain is so elated that Azriel seemingly enjoys her knitware that she knits him a lopsided brown little woolie hat for the days when it’s crisp and cold and he is mulling through paperwork outside while she’s tending the autumn garden.

He’s so dead inside and in love with her that he absolutely wears the sad lumpy woolie hat on the cold days.

His brothers laugh halfway to Adriata everytime they catch sight of this. Azriel waves them off and pays them no mind. Though his ears turn pink now and again because he is, after all, a five century old Illyrian warrior with a hell-black heart covered in lumpy knitware but Elain is beaming and no one could pay him enough gold marks to give a flying shit about his dignity.

Azriel’s pink ears are not lost on Elain, however. She assumes it is because he is still not warm enough. She devises a plan for wooly earmuffs in the coming weeks.

[letternotekisses]

ok but saucy thoughts aside im talkin bout talon assistant reader genuinely being cute and silly with her agents:

Moira more often than not lets you eat your lunch in her lab provided that none of it comes in contact with her projects. She was hyper focused - her perfectly manicured nails holding still a tawny brown ball of fur, adorned with a baby pink button nose that sniffled the air hesitantly. You’d practically squealed when she raised a needle to the poor thing, and she quirked a brow when you hurried over to clutch the animal to your chest.

Moira appeared unimpressed with you. Her angular chin upturned as she peered down at you, baby talking the rabbit she had planned to test on. You looked up at her with eyes big and watery enough to rival the little creatures, and she sighed dramatically. The geneticist had a feeling that wrangling the critter out of your arms wouldn’t be so easy now that you’d seen what plans she had for it.

So that is how Lucky came to be. Despite Moira’s cold disposition, she enjoyed your company, and would like you to continue body doubling with her whilst she worked. The only way not to send you fleeing from her lab in tears, clutching the rabbit to your chest, was to keep it around. It has its own little space laden with toys and plush surfaces - a rather spoiled little animal.

Moira allowed the rabbit to stay, under the one condition that she name it. She’ll never tell you why, but she named the little guy Lucky because not only was he ‘lucky’ to avoid her experiments that day - he also gives you more excuses to come into her lab - and she feels ever so lucky for it.

Sombra finds unique methods to get your attention. She lurks around the base almost as well as Gabe does, but she’s not necessarily doing it to be broody. She can get greedy with your attention, so she finds ways to lure you off base so that she can have you all to herself for a little bit.

Sombra often hacks into Akande’s email to send you on faux errand runs, just for little things like coffee where she can swoop in for some quality time. And don’t worry, she pays for the dates and ensures you’re back on base by the time your break is finished.

Sombra also leaves little gifts where she thinks you might find them. Although, they’re never really that little. You’re always taken aback by new, expensive top-range electronics laden in purple ribbon on your desk. You know who leaves them, because they’re backed up with the best firewalls around and the display has a tiny purple skull on it.

Sometimes she just straight deposits thousands into your account. As a treat. Sombra only rolls her eyes when you try to decline the amount, flustered and telling her that it’s ’way too much’ but she honestly couldn’t care less. She’s perfectly able to spoil you and that’s exactly what she’ll do.

Reaper likes to play off that he doesn’t enjoy your company (he’s coping) but he’s also always skulking wherever you’ve been. You’re a bit of a yapper, especially when it’s early mornings in the Talon communal area, so he likes to sit and listen to you. If you stagger whilst talking because you think he isn’t listening, he’ll give you a stare so hard that you swear you can feel it through his mask. So you keep talking and his shoulders sag with contentment once more. (He now knows every single type of coffee you like, and you should expect a mysterious package of literally all of them in the kitchen next week.)

He’s a grump, and sulked for an entire week when you once changed your perfume. Reaper even went to lengths to shadow-step into your room to throw the new one out and replace it with a fresh bottle of your old one. It wasn’t cheap, but as long as you keep using it, he’s happy to buy them for you.

He’s also happy to scare off any of the overconfident Talon grunts who think you’re easy pickings. In fact, I’d say he takes great pleasure in showing those idiots who the pretty secretary belongs to. (He’s been doing this behind your back because he’s too edgy and emo to approach you directly and would rather trail you in the corridors like some sort of creep, but he means well.)

Reaper gets a little jealous over your attention from time to time, but with help from his unorthodox teammates (and you) he learns to share.

Amelie is slower to approach, but she’s all the more meaningful when she does. She may not be able to feel, but she more than just tolerates your company. She finds herself inviting you over for bottles of wine more often, showing you her manor and her dear guard hounds who’ve come to be much too gentle under your affections. Yet, she can’t find it in herself to blame you.

You show her simplicity in a blank and cold world - and soon enough her manor grows less full of cobwebs and vines, instead beaming with sunlight and the tiny succulents you’d gifted her with. You won’t replace Gerard, but Amelie still lets you dust off the weathered picture frames as if you’d been married together in this old house for years.

You help manage her hair, winding long and silky strands between your fingers, brushing against the elegant slope of her back. She welcomes your touch, despite the warm and cold contrast of your skin on hers.

Amelie craves the casual and domestic intimacy you provide her. She introduces you to self defence and gun wielding so you can take care of yourself without her, and you introduce her to reality tv and an absurd collection of coffee mugs. She would not take it any other way.

Sigma’s musings start small when he hears you humming a certain tune one day. It’s catchy, likely a pop song you’d heard on the radio whilst on your way to work, or maybe it was a song you’d been blasting in your bedroom the night before? He’d found himself picking up on it, unable to shake it until he’s humming it himself.

Eventually when you sit down with him for tea, he questions you about it, yet when you tell him the name of the song and he listens to it, he doesn’t necessarily feel the same pull.

The next week, when you’re passing by his lab in a hurry, heels clacking against the glossy wooden floor and papers flying in a trail behind you, he catches you humming another song. Another tune. He smiles softly to himself, picking up the documents you’d left behind.

Sigma realises then that the song wasn’t necessarily catchy enough to stick with him. He’d only picked them up because they reminded him of you.

Mauga is always excited to have you around. Sometimes he can be a bit much, but with two hearts he’s bound to have twice your energy. So that’s why he absolutely insists that you sit on his back whilst he does pushups. No matter what you weigh he’s not gonna break a sweat, so you might as-well relax on his back while he works out, instead of wasting precious quality time you could have together.

He’d suggested that you sit on other things too, but you’d smacked his bicep hard enough that the muscle rippled and he got the message to behave. You were still sore from the last time he said that.

Mauga also is a big cuddler, meaning, if you’re doing something he doesn’t deem as important, you’re being quite literally swept off your feet and dumped onto a soft surface like a wet kitten. Where he then hauls you onto his chest and squishes your face into his bicep, unfortunately for you, two hearts means he runs WARM. And you’re out like a light in less than 10. Smug bastard.

Big dude loves to show you off, too. Takes you back to some of his old haunts (pays for all of your drinks) and puts a song he knows you like on the jukebox. Sure, the night ends in a bar fight, a back-alley fuck and the worst take out you’ve had in your life, but would you have it any other way? Absolutely-fuckin-not.

And finally, the big boss of them all, Akande. Who’s satisfied with the knowledge that each of his subordinates treat you well and good, but knows he holds the ultimate claim. He holds the golden chain of your leash.

He treats you softly, like a well pampered pet all trussed up in the finest materials around. But it’s not always money with him. Sure, Akande has it, and he’s gonna flaunt it, maybe stuff a few bills in your panties when you least expect it but he also knows you’re not just a pretty face. Both he and his top agents have become adjusted to you in their lives, morale is high, people have improved.

You’re here to stay, and it’s only locked into place when he awakes one morning, your legs are tangled underneath satin sheets, and you’re drooling on his bare chest. He laughs - a deep rumble that shakes his chest and has you groaning at him to stop moving in a sweet, sleep addled mumble. You even give him a little kick under the covers.

Akande makes sure you’ll never want nor need again, and he’s sure that his team feel the same way about this odd, sweet assistant that stumbled into their lives.

[birinboom]

One Moment of Forever

Todoroki Shouto x ReaderWord count: 1,786 Summary: When Shouto is forced to take a break from work due to a quirk injury, the two of you decide to go on a camping trip to your favorite lakeside spot.

Genre: Fluff, established relationships, camping, nature therapy, pet names (love) Note: My entry for andypantsx3’s pretty boy summer collab. This fic is also a part of the @ficsforgaza initiative - thank you so much to those who sponsored it!! 💖💖💖 Check out my list of WIP's here! This is my first time writing Shouto, not sure I got him exactly right…

Your oar slips through the water, near-silent. The air is full of the song of birds. A couple take off from a tree, weaving between each other in a dance, their wings skirting the water of the river before they land in a tree on the opposite bank. You can’t help but smile at the scene.

Water laps at the bow of the canoe. Behind you, Shouto is quiet. Content with just sitting in silence, enjoying the early morning. It’s one of the things you love about him. He’s just as happy in a comfortable silence as he is listening to you talk. He doesn’t mind either way.

Leaves rustle on the riverbank and a doe steps out from the undergrowth, moving towards the river to drink. You suck in a quiet breath as first one fawn, then a second, follow the doe. They’re small, their legs still unmanageable, white spots bright against tawny fur. You can’t imagine them being more than a few days old. 

Shouto shifts behind you, steering the canoe further towards the opposite bank in an attempt to keep the doe from bolting. Your head swivels as you slowly drift by, watching the fawns nurse, their little tails wiggling happily. When you deem them at a safe distance, you turn fully, beaming at Shouto.

“So cute!” you whisper.

He responds with a soft smile. “Very.”

You look at him for a moment. It’s early enough that the sky is still a gorgeous display of orange and pink, rising sun hidden behind the trees. The light limns him with gold. Despite having lived together for years, you are still occasionally struck by just how beautiful he is. Especially at moments like this, outlined in soft morning gold, a gentle breeze playing with his hair. He looks ethereal, like some immortal being from a fairytale.

Shouto tilts his head, puzzled.

“Is everything alright, love?”

You smile at him. 

“Yeah. Just admiring the view.”

You have Bakugou to thank for this experience, you reflect as you pull the canoe onto the narrow strip of sand surrounding the lake. He was the one who introduced Shouto to camping long before the two of you met; and he was the one who introduced both of you to this campsite. It’s one of your favorite places to spend a few days off with Shouto. It’s small, but very well kept. Top tier amenities. And being a campsite specifically for pro heroes and their families, it requires reservations, meaning it’s never crowded. Any heroes you’ve run into on your previous stays would do a brief smile and nod -at most a moment of small talk- before they move on. They want to relax and unwind just as much as the two of you do. No one wants to talk about work.

This time, though, the campsite is empty except for you and Shouto. You were lucky -so to speak- that Shouto’s quirk-strain happened during the off season or the place would’ve been fully booked. He’s on strict orders to only use his quirk for emergencies and to spend his time off in rest and relaxation. And this campsite is the most relaxing vacation spot you’ve come across so far.

Clouds blow in later in the morning, the gentle pitter-patter of rain steady against your tent. Shouto has dozed off while you read, his breathing soft and even. Every breath weaves together with the sound of the rain, with the smell of petrichor. You find it difficult to keep your eyes open. Then Shouto rolls onto his side, one arm draping around your middle. He pulls you closer, face pressing into your neck. His body is sleep-warm, his arm laying heavily over you. 

You can’t resist anymore. “Fine!” you mumble, putting your book away and settling in for a nap.

Shouto mumbles something in reply, pressing a gentle kiss against your throat.

The rain has stopped by the time you wake. Shouto is still asleep, molded against your back, clinging to you as he usually does. He once confessed while only half awake that he worried you would leave. That someone would steal you away. The confession happened years ago; you’ve shown him time and again that you’re not going anywhere, that this unknown someone would have to drag you away kicking and screaming. And still he clings to you like a burr while asleep. You don’t really mind, though. If that is what he needs to sleep peacefully, then you’re more than happy to relax into his warm embrace. It makes you feel treasured and safe. And you’ve grown so accustomed to Shouto’s arms around you that you find it difficult to sleep when he isn’t next to you.

Shouto stirs. You more feel than hear the soft groan he lets out as he wakes. Almost as if his body is fighting to stay asleep. He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“What time is it?” he mumbles, voice rough from sleep.

“About 2,” you reply, rolling over to press your face into Shouto’s neck. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“No,” he replies, sounding more awake. “If I do, I will be unable to sleep tonight. I would rather spend my time with you.” 

You spend a while cuddling, talking, basking in each others’ company. Something you both feel doesn’t happen nearly often enough in your daily lives. Then you carry on with your day.

The ground is slick under your feet. Each step you take is carefully measured. You’d forgotten just how steep part of the trail looping around the lake is. A hike right after a rainfall wasn’t your brightest idea. Still, the view is amazing.

You pause at the top of the last hill, wiping your brow. The lake spreads out in front of you, waters reflecting the gray skies. You can see your tent by the beach, a splash of red amongst green. It reminds you of the first ripe berry on a bush.

The thought of berries makes your stomach growl. It’s almost time for dinner.

You turn to Shouto. He looks completely unbothered by the ascent, not a hint of a flush on his face, his breathing calm and even. It’s unfair sometimes, how effortless physical exertion can be for him. At the same time you’re quite satisfied not having to fight villains on a regular basis.

“Ready for the last stretch?” you ask.

Shouto just nods.

You start down the hill, every step careful. Turning your head, to take one last peek at the view. 

And then you slip.

Your back instantly collides with Shouto’s chest, his arms coming up to steady you. He seems as solid as a boulder, waiting patiently as you get your feet back under you. You have half a mind to just sag in his arms and demand he carry you back down the trail. You know he would do it in a heartbeat. But he’s meant to rest.

“Are you alright, love?” he asks when you don’t move.

You sigh in defeat, finally standing up straight. “I’m fine,” you say, looking back at him. “Just surprised.”

Shouto returns your gaze, lips pressed tight with silent concern. You look at him for a moment, before your eyes flick to the sky behind him. The clouds are the same steely-gray hue as his right eye. You can almost see them roll as they’re blown away. The sky should be clear soon.

The sun breaks out almost as if on cue, slanted early-evening rays highlighting the soft waves on the lake, the water sparkling. You point it out to Shouto.

“A quick dip before dinner?” you ask.

Shouto just looks at you for a moment. “It will not be too cold for you?”

You scoff. “Only one way to find out!”

You stare into the glowing embers of the campfire, a blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. 

The dip in the lake was a less-than-great idea. Despite being heated from the hike, and despite making sure your hair stayed dry, you can still feel the chill of the water. It wasn’t too bad as long as you kept moving. Still, you’re happy that the two of you decided on spicy curry for dinner tonight.

Shouto shifts next to you.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asks. 

“Better,” you reply. “Still a bit cold, but the hot food is helping.”

“Would you like to come on a brief walk with me?” he asks.

You look at him for a moment. “To where? It’s almost dark.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Shouto’s lips. “To the store by the office. I thought an after dinner treat might be in order.”

You stand, beginning to put out the fire. “Better hurry then, they close soon.”

The little store run by the office is stocked with a few necessities and of course snacks. But you notice something you haven’t seen before on your way to the till. Fireworks.

You stop, tugging on Shouto’s sleeve. Pointing at the small display, you ask, “Wanna get some sparklers?”

The two of you take the sparklers down to the beach, and -much to your protest- Shouto lights them with his quirk, claiming that such a small effort it would be no hindrance in his recovery.

You both crouch on the sand, watching the sparklers burn. Peeking at Shouto for a moment, you find his focus trained on the sparkler in his hand, the sparks reflecting in his eyes. You look away again, trying your best to curb your laughter. He is like a little kid sometimes, behaving like he is experiencing something for the very first time. It’s one of the many things you love about him.

You sit still long after the last sparkler has died out, pressed against Shouto’s warmer side, his arm looped around your back. The lake is quiet, the reflections of stars bobbing on its soft waves. You turn your face skyward, a silent breath escaping you at the beauty above. Turning to Shouto, you see the stars reflected in his eyes, much like the sparklers did earlier.

Burrowing closer against him, you press a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m happy we came here,” you say, laying your head on his shoulder, “even if it was because of your injury.”

Shouto hum in agreement, then you feel his lips brush against the top of your head. 

The two of you sit for a while longer, watching the stars, enjoying the quiet night. 

We should make sure to spend more time like this, you think. The two of you enjoying each other’s company. Watching the world go by. 

One moment of forever with him.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks (on and off anon) are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Em 💖