#they were in a bit of a lose-lose situation

[sparrow-and-seed-scrawls]

The Covington Manor Library was quite large and quite elegant. Shelves towered high above, practically scraping the glass ceiling. Old plush chairs and velvet cushions rested in nooks, furniture so old it was quite possibly permanently stuck in the maroon carpet.

The cat had spent hours in here, reading novels and essays from the lap of Mr. Covington II and teaching himself to understand human language. It was Mr. Covington II who’d realized the cat’s affliction. It was he who’d taken the secret of this affliction to the grave, lest a greedy scientist pull the cat’s heart out and try to create the affliction of immortality themselves.

It was nothing but an affliction. The cat never thought of it otherwise. He’d seen generations of Covingtons live and die, marry and divorce, celebrate and weep. And he’d comforted other animals in their final days—dogs, cats, a parrot long ago. He told them it would be okay, they had loved and been loved. They were safe. They could go.

And yet he was still here, the oldest member of the family. A four-hundred-year-old black and white longhaired cat who could read and understand human language. Who had seen empires rise and fall. Who’d lived through tragedies and storms.

And the two people who knew of his affliction had died three hundred years ago.

He needed to let someone know of this dire situation. Someone to help him find a cure so he could live out his days the way he was meant to. Or, at least, someone to keep him from losing his entire feline mind.

No one older than sixteen could know, the cat had long ago realized. That was a rule. Something strange happened when children turned seventeen—they grew up and lost their imagination. They shunned creativity and anything that was unusual.

It was too dangerous to tell anyone over sixteen. He wouldn’t do it again.

The large oak door to the Covington Manor Library swept open, then. Dust filled the air and the smell of faux cherry and strawberry drowned the cat’s lungs.

No one had been in here for years! The cat sneaked in and out through an unsecured window, but no human had stepped foot in the library for 1,345 days, and now—

What the dickens was going on?

“You’re Whiskers Covington!” Small hands wrapped around the cat’s belly and lifted him from his loaf on the velvet cushion. “You’re grandfather’s cat!”

The cat struggled, flicked his tail back and fourth. What was the child doing? He pushed and twisted until he could see into her dark brown eyes.

She was young—maybe ten-years-old? Her curly black hair was pulled back into a knot. And was that strawberry smell her chapstick? Egh.

But then she gently ran a finger over the cat’s nose and up between his eyes. Exactly where Mr. Covington II had used to pet him.

The cat, to his horror and humiliation, began to…

purr.

He tried to stop it, truly. It wasn’t elegant! It exposed his feelings! He hadn’t purred for anyone since Miss Rosemary, the maid from the Great Depression. But it was so nice, and her arms were so warm…

The child climbed into the plush chair, then, and pulled an old photo album from the shelf. She finally let the cat go to settle next to her. He should’ve raced from the room to regain his composure… but who was left to judge him? Those he knew were all dead, and the new Covingtons—the late Marcy Covington’s family, the cat’s latest owner—must have only just inherited the manor. He’d never seen this Covington child before in his life.

But she was one of them, he realized. Her nose had the slight curve of Mrs. Franny Covington’s. She had the curls of Benjamin Covington. And as she gently ran a finger between the cat’s eyes, the cat came to the conclusion that perhaps this new Covington would be the one he could confide in. The one who would find out about the family’s history and what had led to this strange affliction and the whole mountain of hidden lies.

Perhaps things would finally calm, and life would be comfortable for a little bit.

But for now, the cat simply relaxed into the child’s side and closed his eyes.

A nap was in order.

Your grandparent passes and your parents inherit the palatial estate as well as the care for its cat. After going through several family records you realize the cat has been inherited throughout the generations. You try telling others but they forget. Now it keeps trying to be alone with you.

[ellecdc]

hey elleeeee

could i pretty please do 🐻 the sharing a bed prompt, “cuddling in their sleep” + “waking up with their faces centimetres apart”. with remus but theyre not together just pinNING for eachother and this happens.

consider it done

Remus Lupin x roommate!reader who cuddle for warmth and that's totally it [641 words]

CW: fem!reader, Remus sort of pining, but maybe it's not one sided!?!?, fluff, sort of a continuation from this post

Remus thinks he should perhaps feel a little guilty having taken advantage of the current situation; his original offer certainly hadn’t been a selfless one. 

Was the flat sodding freezing? Yes, it was. Would he have been up worrying all night that you’d died of hypothermia in your own bed? Absolutely. Was it indeed warmer having consolidated every blanket and pillow the two of you owned into one bed and sharing body heat to stay more comfortable? Damn right it was. 

But, it was because of all these aforementioned reasons that Remus felt it was perhaps a touch unethical to be enjoying his current situation as much as he did. 

The two of you were gripping each other’s hands and arms as if you were both afraid the other would simply float away had you not been holding on for dear life. The soft, cloud filtered light bathing your face in its glow; your head resting on one of his pillows he hoped to god smelled like you, now, that was but a few measly centimetres away from his own face. 

He found himself nearly holding his breath as though he was afraid to disturb the peace of this moment, one that he'd been fighting against yet secretly yearning for since he realised how much he enjoyed your presence; perhaps a bit too much to be simply considered roommates, or even just friends. 

He catalogued the way your eyelashes fanned from beneath your closed eyes and kissed the tops of your cheeks, fluttering ever so slightly when something would happen in your dream. He revelled in the way that you seemed to be smiling, even in your sleep; your lips relaxed and pursed ever so slightly as you breathed through your nose. 

Your nose - it was stupid and foolish and silly, but fuck - he loved your nose.

And this might well and truly be the one and only time he got to enjoy you like this, so sue him for what he did next.

He hardly had to move at all, really, he simply pushed his chin forward so that his nose bumped into yours. He was checking, you see, because he knew his nose was cold from the cool air surrounding your nest of pillows and blankets and body heat, but he needed to see if yours was too. He couldn’t in good conscience sit here and admire your nose if you were about to lose it to frostbite, now could he? 

Remus found himself smiling at the fact that your nose, for whatever reason, was slightly warmer than his. Good, he thought, I’d like her to keep her nose. 

“You’re supposed t’be sleeping.” You blurt rather suddenly for Remus’ tastes, still never opening your eyes as Remus rears his head back, though you strengthen your hold on his hands and arms so that he can’t actually move away from you.

“How long have you been awake?” He accuses you instead of admitting he was being a creepy fuck and watching you sleep.

You don’t answer him, though. Instead, you let out a languid stretch before releasing your hold of his hands in favour of wrapping your arms around his torso and slotting yourself against him; legs tangled with his and your nose - colder than the skin of his collarbone - pushing into his neck as you tucked yourself under his chin. 

“Go t’sleep, Rem.” You order him, tightening your hold around his chest as he allows his arms to cautiously encircle you in his own embrace; one hand splayed between your shoulder blades, and the other cupping the back of your head lovingly. 

He didn’t follow your order, unfortunately. But he did spend the rest of the morning wondering, hoping, nearly begging the universe that perhaps this might not be the last time he gets to enjoy you like this.

[smuttysabina]

Mamamoo's Fuck-Fitness Program

(Male Reader x Hwasa & Solar, 5k Words) Tags: Workout sex; Sex while working out; Someone grows a GirlCock (Blame Dreamcatcher); Vagina, Oral, Anal, and Exterior Sex; Double penetration; Multiple cocks in one hole; Sweaty messy sex; Only Hwasa and Solar are there though, sorry; Sloppy Seconds; Lots of calories were burned during this smut; Can recommend this exercise for weight-loss; Thigh-fucking

Sex, is a messy activity. The grunting and exhalations, the sordid stench of sweat and hormones, the noisy slap of flesh, the taste of another person upon your tongue, the sticky fluids that invariably end up leaking everywhere... Sex was an exercise drenched in shared shamelessness, the thrill of ignoring your innate disgusts to focus solely upon the pursuit of pleasure; and of course, breeding. Which only made threesomes all the nastier. Now there was a third body squishing itself against the others, adding its own sensual heat to the mix, spicing the intercourse with its uneven dynamic that only ever encouraged more perversion. It was simply too easy to toss away your inhibitions and give in to the unnatural deviancy of the situation, spurring yourself as you seek your climax. Which, all in all, meant that you burned a lot more calories in a threesome, which was why the Mamamoo Workout Program always made sure its clients were paired with two of their ladies at once!

Fans would obviously plumb the depths of their reserves when with one of their idols, but with two of them... why, the weight would practically melt away!

It cost quite a bit to secure a session at the Mamamoo Fitness Center, but it was well known that the health benefits were worth every penny. There were only four open slots per day, and competition was fierce to obtain one, it was said that the ladies were fully booked for the year within minutes of opening; it was something of a miracle you had managed to secure yourself one. The modest office itself was tastefully decorated, pure white walls covered in informational posters and awards, and the plush chairs in the waiting room were of the highest quality. The assistants behind the front desk were equally as beautiful as the room itself, and went about their business with the quiet diligence of any medical office. A smiling secretary had given you a clipboard of forms and waivers to fill out, full of disclaimers carefully worded to avoid any explicit mention of what went on. The form had blandly informed you that your upcoming session would consist of a "personalized workout session", guided by two randomized members of Mamamoo, who would lead your "workout" until you had reached your "fitness goals". What it really meant of course, was that you would be vigorously fucked until you were on the edge of exhaustion.

The Mamamoo Workout experience had been carefully tuned to maximize the amount of calories burned during the intercourse. The controversial decision to randomize the members chosen had been done on purpose, since it had been noted that clients often burned as many calories with their least favorite member as they would have with their bias. One particularly celebrated patient had spent five hours rutting atop Wheein, and had managed to lose 20 pounds in the process. The eight hour long slots had also been chosen as the most optimal amount of time, past that and most patients were on the verge of death via excessive fluids loss. And of course, the decision to include two of the members instead of just one was to send their clients into a sexual frenzy; though it was also because the members enjoyed having sex with one another too much. On average, most patients lost around ten pounds over the several hours of intensive intercourse, their excess fat burning away as they pushed themselves to the limit to continue fucking half of Mamamoo. It was an extremely efficient method of losing weight, with the added benefit of being the best sex of your entire life.

The demure secretary returns to collect you, and your documents, checking to make sure everything had been filled out properly before guiding you to the front desk to record your temperature and weight. Nodding with satisfaction, she leads you out of the waiting room and through the doorway in the back, into a plain corridor adorned only with four brown doors. Colorful placards on the doors indicate whether the rooms were in use or not, and as you pass by the single occupied suite, you hear muffled squeals and moans emanating from it; evidently the sound-proofing here was high-quality. The assistant takes you to the room two doors down from the one currently in use, politely knocking on the door before opening it and motioning you inside. Your heart pounds and your palms grow sweaty as the reality of your situation hits you, you had been anticipating this for so long it had become almost mundane, but now that you were on the threshold... The secretary gives you an encouraging slap on the ass, and smiling kindly, assures you that you would be up for the grueling workout ahead of you; everyone gets cold feet before this! Mustering your courage, you return the favor, much to her amusement, before entering the "fitness room"; the door shuts, and locks, behind you.

Twin goddesses await you within, hands on their hips as they appraise their newest customer, their bodies sheathed in clinging tights that accentuated their plush lower lips, and sports bras that pushed out their chests. Solar seemed as bright as her namesake, cheerfully eyeing your crotch with open intent, while Hwasa glares thoughtfully at your face, her own sultry expression hinting of her love for vigorous copulation. Solar steps forward to greet you, her lithe body swaying as takes your hand and leads you further into the exercise room; which was severely lacking in conventional exercise equipment. The floor was completely covered in firm mats, with beanbags and exercise balls strewn about, there were several curiously-shaped benches, and the pull-up stand had a few too many straps than usual. Full-length mirrors covered the two sidewalls, while the furthest had various cabinets and a door that presumably led to the bathroom; and there was a tallyboard that marked the gender of every customer, it seems that women were here as often as men. Hwasa saunters up and takes your other hand, smirking slightly as she senses your nervousness, and you stammer as you introduce yourself to the two idols. The pair smile at your awkwardness, before explaining today's schedule to you once more; a mild stretching session, followed by a series of intensive workouts interspersed with breaks for hydration and restroom use, with a shower at the end to clean you all off.

Contrary to your assumptions, your time with Hwasa and Solar began with the utmost banality, the pair guiding you through some basic standing stretches before moving onto some sitting ones. If the police had burst into the room under suspicion of illegal sexual acts, they would have found a normal guy in sweats and a baggy tshirt, grunting as he strained to touch his toes, while two attractive fitness instructors watched with amusement. Now if said police returned half an hour later, well... The first sign that this was anything other than a regular weight-loss session was when Hwasa moved in front of you while your legs were spread, and smoothly slid her ass back between them. A position that left you quite conscious about the size of her posterior, now that it was nuzzling against your crotch, the pair's chests might have been similar, but Hwasa's rear was far thicker. A moment later Solar presses herself against your back, squishing her breasts against you as she slowly leans forward, stretching you out while ensuring you would be unable to escape. If Hwasa is at all troubled by the now obvious poking her cheeks, she does not show it, and placidly starts to grind against your loins; your penis obviously required stretching out as well. What started as slow teasing gradually turns into something more, as your excitement builds you find yourself moving as well, until what started as a suspicious stretch has degenerated into desperate dry-humping.

You groan as you rub yourself against Hwasa's thick ass, boldly grasping her waist so as to force her back against you all the harder, before long you are leaking through your sweatpants and onto her tights. She slowly hikes her ass up, and you eagerly follow, until it looks as if you were plowing her doggy-style, only with more clothes than usual on. Speaking of which, now that you have the room, you eagerly pull down your pants, and are surprised to discover your shirt getting yanked up as well, before Solar meshes herself against your back once more. Her hands roam your bare chest, toying with your nipples while she kisses and sucks your neck, whispering encouragement into your ear before nibbling up on it. You shudder as you hotdog Hwasa's plump butt, the fabric of her tights smooth enough to allow for easy movement, the sticky evidence of your virility smearing itself against it. With her amused face staring back at you in the mirror, the idol suddenly pulls forward, using her hand to press your cock downward before pushing back against you; and you find your cock sandwiched between her meaty thighs. Now it truly looked as if you were having sex, as you furiously fuck Hwasa's thighs, your crotch slapping loudly against her constrained ass as she squishes her legs together in imitation of her tight pussy.

With Solar pressing her supple body against you from behind, and with your cock buried between Hwasa's thighs, you feel your climax building unstoppably. The pair of idols were not blind to this, and they eagerly brought about its fruition. Solar smiles wickedly at you in the mirror, "Finishing so soon, dear?" she purrs, "we haven't even completed our stretches yet," before returning to giving your neck purple hickeys. Hwasa simply looks back at you and commands, "Cum, now," and you moaningly obey, picking up the pace as she clenches around your manhood. You had not even lasted long enough to put your first load inside one of the members of Mamamoo, and it is with some embarrassment that you empty yourself against Hwasa's stomach. You groan as you paint her tummy with your seed, your cock fooled into thinking that it was draining itself inside of her fertile pussy, when instead your sperm was wasted upon her tanned skin. Shaking from the force of your orgasm, you lean on Hwasa for support as your strength pours from your dick, as the idols loudly praise your climax.

Solar pulls you upright onto your feet, murmuring encouragingly as she massages your crotch and thighs, while Hwasa idly cleans your semen off of her stomach with her fingers, licking each in turn while staring bemusedly at you. The girls share a glance before Hwasa gets up and stalks over to a cabinet, while Solar occupies you with kisses and touches, now that the warmup was finished, it was time to pick up the pace. And of course, the pair knew the best way to encourage their clients to do just that. Mamamoo, like most Third-Generation idols, may have looked on with contempt at the alchemical aphrodisiac brews churned out by Twice, but that did not mean they were opposed to all such potions. Hwasa removes an ornate, maroon-colored flask from a drawer, tossing it to Solar before sauntering back and shamelessly stripping in front of you. Your eyes boggle as you drink in the sight of Hwasa's naked body, her fertile curves framing a massively puffy pussy that is already slick with arousal; and her swaying breasts were practically begging to be groped. Meanwhile, Solar takes advantage of your distraction and chugs a portion of the bottle, licking her lips as the cherry-flavored drink pours into her stomach and its effects take hold.

Solar lets out a moan of pure pleasure as a bulge appears in her tights, spreading upwards until it nearly pushes fully from beneath the fabric. She shudders as she gingerly reveals the results of the potion, a girl-cock of average size, twitching and tender from its recent birth, with a pair of heavy balls throbbing in their hairless sack. Mamamoo know very well that to inspire a client, it is best to set the pace yourself, and let men's natural jealousies do the rest; plus, the women tend to be rather invigorated by having their favorite idol's cock in one or more of their holes. So Hwasa wastes no time in getting on her knees in front of Solar, and enthusiastically starting to suck her off. You are admittedly shocked by this sudden development, you had not expected for one of Mamamoo to sprout a cock, but you are not entirely opposed to this... To your own surprise, you find yourself oddly aroused by the scene taking place in front of you, and soon are shoving your own stiffening cock into Hwasa's face. The idol expertly gives oral to both of you, one hand on either cock, sucking one then the other, rubbing the tips together as her tongue lathers both with warm spit. You and Solar both moan from Hwasa's efforts, kissing and groping one another as your dicks are devoured, precum dribbling steadily all over her pert lips. After what seems like an age of endless pleasure, Hwasa smoothly rises before bending over, her face still bobbing in front of your crotches, but now offering an alternative.

You are too busy enjoying the stimulation of getting a blowjob from an idol like Hwasa, and so Solar is the first to take her pussy, slipping inside of her groupmate with practiced ease. While Solar has her sloppy way with Hwasa's lower lips, you use her upper lips with equal messiness, using her head's positioning to force your cock down her throat. Hwasa gags as you fuck her face like a pussy, slobber coating your balls with every thrust as you struggle to not unload your seed directly into her stomach. You and Solar hold hands and make-out while you spit-roast Hwasa, who squirms as both of you shove yourselves as deep as possible into her, united in your eagerness to use Hwasa's body. But before you can impregnate Hwasa's guts, Solar does just that inside of her friend's cunt, moaning loudly and spasming wildly as she empties herself into Hwasa, her eyes rolling back as pleasure washes through her body. Panting, her tongue still connected to yours be streamers of spit, Solar pulls out of Hwasa, slapping her thick ass in thanks before wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you; now its your turn... Hwasa solidly plants herself against one of the wall mirrors in preparation for the pounding she was about to receive, looking back smugly at you as she spreads one cheek open in welcome. You shudder as you press your cockhead into the sticky mess leaking from Hwasa's plump pussy, your passage into her dripping hole made even easier by Solar's seed.

The cacophony of flesh slapping together reverberates through the exercise room as you violently take Hwasa against the wall. A surprising vigor fills you, turning every thrust into a hammer-blow as you break yourself against her massive ass-cheeks, your cock churning her pussy as Solar's seed pours out of it. Her sloppy cunt constricts tightly around your shaft with every thrust, gripping you tightly even while taking a ferocious pounding; idol pussy truly was superior. Hwasa growls hungrily as you plow her, licking the mirror lustfully to spur you on, her cunt gushing as she climaxes from the intensity of your coupling. With your hands around her hips, you hold her steady as you go into a frenzy, thrusting wildly as your own orgasm approaches, gasping her name with every breath while your balls throb with effort. Sweat is pouring down your skin when you finally let out a groan and force yourself deep inside of Hwasa, your semen erupting into her in a flood of jizz. Who looks back at you with satisfaction, licking her luscious lips while you plaster her pussy with your seed; relishing in every drop coating her insides. When you are finished, you stagger backwards, exhausted by your sex, and a laughing Solar passes you a water bottle as she guides you to the bathroom for a little break.

You were perplexed by your energetic coupling with Hwasa, you had not intended to be so rough with her, even though she had evidently enjoyed it, and you ponder this while you piss in one of the two toilets with Solar. Hwasa soon joins you two, squatting on the free seat and voiding her bladder as well; the pair of idol's did not need to ruminate on your sudden vigor, they knew exactly where it came from. Like most idols, Mamamoo knew full well that when fucking a cum-filled hole, men naturally grew more forceful and energetic, their bodies automatically adapting its rhythm to better scoop the semen out with its thrusts; which of course, burned more calories. So, the girls made sure to have as many holes filled with their own girlcocks and cum as soon as possible, not that it was very hard considering how good those holes were; and jealousy was a truly powerful motivator. Thus, when you three exit the bathroom, Hwasa almost immediately is laying down on padded bench, and opening her legs for Solar, who happily starts fucking your sloppy seconds out of Hwasa. You meanwhile rest on an exercise ball, idly rubbing your still slick yet flaccid cock, while the two idols make passionate love without you; a situation that makes you surprisingly aroused as you watch them fucking. Eventually, the squeals and moans are enough to get you hard once more, and you hasten to join the pair of idols once more, already knowing which hole you wanted to fill.

Solar starts with surprise when your hands grasp her waist, stopping mid-thrust to glance back at your touch, bemusement written on her features, "Oh, would you like a turn?" she asks with a knowing smile, before her eyebrows raise as you apply pressure to guide her down onto Hwasa, "Oh, wait, are you lubed up enough...?" Solar's question is answered as you press your glistening cock against her exposed asshole, and force yourself inside of her. Solar groans as she is impaled from behind, pushing herself deeply into Hwasa as you gradually fill her ass; until you are both balls-deep in your respective holes. Solar squirms as she is pleasured from both sides, her girl-cock getting massaged by Hwasa's sultry cunt, while your dick pokes at her innards; and you had not even started thrusting yet. Solar's guts probably had subtle differences compared to Hwasa's experienced pussy, but by now you were on your third load, and all your cock cared about was that it was inside of a warm hole; so it does what any dick inside of a warm hole would do, and starts moving. After an awkward start, all three of you eventually fall into a steady rhythm, allowing both you and Solar to get deep strokes in, while Hwasa simply lays there and takes it, naughtily urging you both on while you do all the work. Solar's perky butt meshes perfectly against your crotch with every thrust, and you have to contain yourself to not simply pin her against her groupmate and pound her soggy guts out of shape. Solar though, sounds like she is in heaven, gasping and moaning, becoming overstimulated and giving into her own pleasure, frantically humping away between Hwasa's thick thighs until she reaches her climax. When she pushes deep inside of her fellow idol, you follow suit, pressing yourself against her sweaty back as your weight presses Solar's girl-cock even further into Hwasa's pussy. Shuddering, Solar collapses onto her and unloads the contents of her balls into Hwasa, who groans as the warmth spreads through her belly, squished beneath both of your weight.

A glistening streamer of semen connects the tip of Solar's cock with the mess leaking out of Hwasa's cunt as she delicately maneuvers out from between you two; leaving you yet another sticky mess to unclog. But Hwasa has other ideas; obviously tired of being passive, instead she cranks the back of the bench upwards and seats you on it, sperm and sweat streaking down her thighs as she gazes down at you. She squats down in front of your upraised dick and takes it in her mouth, slobbering on your smelly meat until it is thoroughly doused in spittle, her eyebrows furrowed intensely as your tip stabs at her throat. Hwasa wears a seductive smirk when she finishes lubricating your manhood, rising back up to straddle you, placing one hand on your chest to hold you down, she uses the other to guide your cock inside of her as she sits on it. Your eyes widen in surprise when instead of slipping easily into her slimy cunt, Hwasa angles you a little further back, and forces your dick inside of her unused asshole. She lets out a satisfied grunt as she hilts you, your member twitching inside of her belly, her lips quirking upwards when she notices your expression, "What, did you think I disliked having my ass filled as well?", she brings a finger to your lips to hush you, "No, just shut up and let me enjoy myself." So you do, and she does, though it was not as if you were not savoring the feeling of Hwasa's tight anus sliding up and down your shaft as much as she was.

Hwasa's powerful thighs piston her up and down your length, a sneer of pleasure twisting her lips as your cock grinds against her insides, making you shudder with every squat. If anything, she looked smug at being able to exert some control once more, leaning down to forcefully kiss you on whim, her cunt leaking her juices steadily onto your belly. Moaning, you grope her swaying breasts as Hwasa rides you, holding onto them for support as her asshole clamps tightly around your cock. Only when you approach the edge of your orgasm does she pause, waiting until your dick finishes pulsing before resuming her sensual movements, her hips writhing atop your lap as she works you deep inside of her. After Hwasa has successfully edged you for a third time, Solar reappears behind her, no doubt painfully erect once more, running her hands down her friend's back to attract her attention. But Hwasa is teasingly aloof, "Sorry dear, this hole is already taken," she purrs, grinding meaningfully upon you for emphasis, curling her mouth into a haughty yet knowing smile. Solar simply beams though, and scoots herself onto the small open portion of the seat slipping her legs up yours until her cock and balls are squished against your own. Rolling her eyes, Hwasa stands up enough until only your head is inside of her, and you twist to try and see what is going on as you feel something hard pressing against the base of your tip. The pressure builds, and only when another rigid object surges in alongside your cock do you realize that Solar has forced her dick into the idol's ass as well. Hwasa lets out a true groan as she sits on both of your cocks, clenching tightly around both of your shafts as precum leaks out from the gaps between your cocks. With frightening flexibility, she lifts one leg up over you and turns, so that her side is now facing you, and you can see Solar smiling reassuringly from across Hwasa's swollen breasts; Hwasa's ass felt so snug with someone else in it...

With a hand on either shoulder, Hwasa bounces lustfully on both of your cocks, leaving both you and Solar moaning plaintively. Effectively pinned by each other's weigh, Hwasa has free reign to fuck you as she liked, turning what should have been in intense anal pounding into a languidly intimate ride. With your shafts squishing and slipping against one another, Hwasa's guts massage your dicks until they are the edge of bursting, then she pauses, allowing your precum to slop out over your congealed cockheads, before resuming her exquisite torture. All you and Solar can do is grab at her curvaceous body as it pumps up and and down your members, and your mind starts to melt under the unending pleasure. Hwasa's asshole makes disgusting squelching noises as precum slops out of it and onto your balls, soon your lower bodies are splattered with the evidence of your weakness. Even an experienced slut like Solar looks to be in heaven, her tongue lolling as she glares lustfully back at you, grinding herself against you in her desperation to climax. You start asking for it, pleading with Hwasa for release, which of course only makes her leak all the more, until eventually she lets out a grunt a paints the matting with a wash of gooey squirt, shuddering with ecstasy as her asshole clamps tightly around your members. Her face flushed with arousal, her hands slip onto your throats as she snarls, "Beg for it! Beg. For. It!" and with your brains sloshing with hormones, you and Solar easily comply. You beg for release as Hwasa slams herself against you, her thick ass cheeks slapping loudly as fluids spray, the two of you now humping wildly upwards while Hwasa hammers you flat again and again. Solar is the first to finish, moaning sweetly, her eyes roll back as she fills Hwasa's guts, her pulsating cock slobbering cum all over your dick as much as her coils. The stimulation is enough to make you explode soon after, drowning Hwasa's innards in semen as she squirts messily once more as her ass gets turned into a jizz-filled slurry.

Hwasa unmounts you both with a groan, Solar nearly toppling backwards off the seat as all three of you are weak and trembling from your intensive exertions. Hwasa gingerly kneels next to you, and without hesitation starts cleaning off the filthy mess coating your sensitive cocks with her mouth. Now you are truly writhing in the seat, your skin painfully stuck to the black leather by sweat, clutching her hair as her warm saliva is slathered all over your manhood. Hwasa skillfully rubs your tips together, her tongue slipping between and around them, before taking you both in her mouth, trying to fit both of your cocks into her throat and sometimes succeeding. By the end of it, both you and Solar are gasping, but your cocks are both bulging once more. Hwasa stands back up before sashaying to an uncluttered area of mat and bending over, spreading her cheeks for your enjoyment. She smirks coyly as her asshole belches a ream of semen down her leg, her gaping pussy still awash with sperms, "Who is getting which hole?", she asks, her smile growing wider, "Or are you going to share again...?" Hwasa seductively licks her lips as Solar untangles herself from you and staggers over, with you a step behind, wiggling her butt enticingly as you approach. Solar glances at you and gives you a kiss, before grinning, "Well? We have five hours left, so take your pick, or do you want me...?"

The next four hours pass in a blur of pounding flesh and spewing fluids, an unending tide of hedonism that sees you plumbing the depths of your depravity. You violate Hwasa's asshole, you plow her pussy, you fill her throat, while Solar gleefully does the same. You balls slap together in an endless cacophony, and more often than not your shafts slip and squelch against each other as you both ravage the same hole at once. Not that Solar's orifices are spared either, pumping away at her butt while Hwasa pleasures you both, or forces you to pleasure her; and Solar's face is almost as covered with both her cum and your own as Hwasa's is. All of you guzzle down vast amounts of water, only stopping when your bodies can take it no more and you have to make a break to the bathroom, often returning to find the other two fucking as intensely as before. Sweat pours down your skin like a waterfall, and the mats are covered with puddles of sexual fluids (and the occasional pond of piss from when someone was unable to reach the toilet in time), it feels like your brain has devolved until your only thoughts are for slaking your desires upon the two idols of Mamamoo. Eventually though, your exhaustion catches up to you, and when you pull out of Hwasa's sloppy cunt for what seems like the hundredth time that day you find yourself collapsing from utter fatigue.

Hwasa and Solar carefully tend to you over the next twenty minutes, pouring fluids down your throat to rehydrate you and massaging your cramped and aching muscles. When they are satisfied you can walk, they haul you to your feet, chattering amiably and complimenting you on your love-making skills; of course they barely showed even a hint of tiredness. They haul you into the bathroom, where they crudely hose the worst of the filth off of you with a shower head before frog-marching you to the exit. A smiling assistant greets you at the door, and your half of Mamamoo wave you goodbye as she leads you out, covered head to toe in cum, squirt, and other unmentionable fluids. As the girl leads you down the corridor, you idly notice that the idols had stuffed you back into your clothes, though you knew you must absolutely reek. The other occupied door cracks open as you approach, and a lady staggers out of it, her belly distended and her holes leaking so much cum it is slicking through her yoga pants in a reeking stream. She barely even glances at you as you are dragged by her, though through the closing door you notice a rather well-endowed Moonbyul and Wheein blowing kisses to their retreating client. Humming cheerfully, the assistant takes your weight at the scale, before depositing you in front of the kindly secretary from before. Who beams knowingly, before slyly enquiring if you would like to make an appointment for next year? Nodding tiredly, you flick through your calendar to look up the date, while the lady behind you noisily vomits what sounds like gallons of semen into a trashcan.

Of course you would like to make another appointment, though you are sure to ask if there have been any last minute cancellations... Another few more sessions like this, and you would be hitting your weight-loss target in no time!

[pressplay-if]

Well, I was pleasantly surprised. I really identified with the MC; I also struggled with social anxiety, and I had a long-term friendship that was entirely built around our mutual mental struggles. When I started to improve, my friend tried to drag me back down because she was afraid of "losing me." I really liked the way you approached this topic; I love how you write and the respect you show for these issues. Also, I absolutely love Angel, and I can’t wait to have more moments with him! <3

Bts, sorry if my English sounds a bit off—it’s not my native language... Anyway, I’m excited for the next update! ^^

Hey hey don't worry about the English at all. I understood perfectly well! Btw it's not my first language either 😉

Friendships built in/around dark times in life are volatile and a lot like time bombs... I would know. So I'm glad you approve of my approach to this whole situation. The one thing I got to clarify is Zima, at the time, didn't willingly/maliciously drag down MC. They were a kid that didn't know what to do with their love and felt the one person they wanted to receive it slipping away.

[anonymous-ivplay]

Hey so just to add context for the lice thing, bc the tl;dr is that there's more nuance and classism is also a factor

Schools were already doing this well before the pandemic. My younger sister got lice in the spring of 2017 and our local small town high school still had her attend every day while she was treating it, as according to my mom (who's the local teacher's union rep) the school district had recently changed their policy to the above. This was a bit surprising, especially since the district had also recently established a rule that anyone sent home sick couldn't come back to school until they'd had a full 24 hours with no more symptoms. So why would lice be an exception?

Because they found that of all the documented lice cases each year, the vast majority of them would come from the same kids and the same households each time. Which meant those same kids were missing a LOT of school.

I can confirm this from personal experience. Growing up there was a kid in all my elementary and middle school classes, let's call him Aaron. This kid would get lice CONSTANTLY. Like once a month the school nurse would find it, send him home, and then he wouldn't be allowed back until the lice was gone. So after a week he'd be back with a shaved head and all lice supposedly gone, only to have it show back up a few weeks later. Now we rode the same bus, so I saw Aaron's house and could tell that it was....really not in good condition. Point being, I wasn't surprised in the least that there was a recurrent lice infestation that his folks couldn't afford to completely exterminate—that, or they just didn't care. But because of this, Aaron probably missed a combined half-semester of every school year. And yet he still got pushed through to the next grade level year after year, because the school district didn't want to lose funding by holding him back, as alluded to above.

Aaron moved to a different town in middle school and I lost touch with him, so I don't know how he's doing now or how long the lice cycle continued. But I do know that he couldn't have been the only one in this situation, not when like a third of the town I grew up in is at or below the poverty line.

So is needing funding for the school district to blame? Partly, yes. But it's not about the short term of putting more bodies in seats from day to day. It's about how many low income kids they're failing to educate by punishing them for a living situation that the kids can't control. And while I don't necessarily like that lice has a chance to spread in schools more easily now, I can at least respect that it's better than the alternative of denying already disadvantaged kids the education they deserve.

CDC voice: "I know I said we'd do something about covid if it got very high again, but we have real tough jobs to do, like removing the recommendations that children with head lice or watery diarrhea be sent home to prevent further spread of their illness."

[meanbossart]

So, I was thinking after the newest Bhaalist DU Drow art (and his hand dangerously close to Astarions throat): what would happen if Astarion runs away? Did he ever try?

And, what's also pretty sad, how does affection look like for them in this AU? Does Astarion just push through and dissociate? Can he ever say no? Or does he hope the love of his life (or unlife) changes at some point?

Thankies 💕

CW: Non-explicit description of a coercive sexual relationship.

You know, I'm not sure he would try to run away. I haven't thought about this AU in quite as much depth as I have their canonical story, but I do know that DU drow has turned Baldur's Gate and the area around it into quite the scary place. The "immediate and absolute control over the brain" outcome that we get in the game is a bit too easy for me, but he DOES retain the stones and therefore ownership over it, not to mention a huge bargaining chip in political control of the vicinity.

The church of Bhaal is reinstated, and while it will never be in the interest of Bhaalists to be blatant about their activities, it would become common knowledge that they have eyes everywhere. Killing is still ritualistic rather than mindless massacre, and indoctrination is prioritized - they can't expand and fulfill Bhaal's will if all potential followers are dead. People who don't yet follow the gospel have reason to cooperate with them since that lessens their chances of being killed.

So, if the darling of the cult's head were to suddenly disappear, everyone infected would be immediately zapped with the knowledge of exactly what he looks like and where he was last seen, and what the repercussions are for anyone who fails to report his whereabouts. Astarion knows this, DU drow would make sure that he does.

Also, it would probably be far too easy for Astarion to justify his own compliance and try to make peace with the situation. This IS the man he fell in love with, he DID encourage his pursuit for power at every step, he may not be the grand vampire ascendant, but he is the Murder Prince's beloved. He doesn't beat him, he doesn't torture him, he spoils Astarion with riches, comfort, and all the fresh blood he could dream of; all he asks for in return is his eternal devotion, constant affection, adoration, control over where he is, wears, does, and total surveillance.

When the alternative is braving the cold, ruthless world as a meager little vampire spawn while being hunted down by your ex's minions (hm, sounds familiar) being the equivalent to your partner's boutique pet starts to look pretty desirable. Astarion falling to old habits and resigning to his circumstance seems pretty likely to me. If he did run away successfully, life would be a whole lot harder for him. If he runs away unsuccessfully, he loses the trust of his murderous, power-hungry partner and the few liberties he is afforded at all.

Speaking of liberties, saying no to intimacy is one he still has, however the consequences for being frigid and nonreciprocating would come in other forms, over time, and Astarion would probably rather spare himself the trouble and just play along as the highly affectionate and fiery lover that this DU Drow wants him to be. The happier he is, the easier things are.

Not to mention that, occasionally, he can pretend that everything is back to how it used to be when they are being intimate.

I think there are vulnerable moments where he hopes he will snap out of it, but most of the time Astarion is convincing himself that he hit the jackpot, that he has DU drow wrapped around his finger and he will be able to turn this more in his favor eventually.

[bustybounty]

A ssbbw gets a fat transfer, surprising all of her coworkers when she comes in with a tiny tummy and a gigantic ass.

This sounds like the graciebon situation but taken to an even more extreme degree...I love it~

Source: can't find their DA anymore :( it said turok44.

Something like that body type, I imagine... all those hundreds of pounds from all over her body transformed into fatness only on her legs, especially the upper thigh and booty region.

Since it was still pure fat, it jiggled like a damn earthquake was hitting her with the epicenter right in between her gigantic clapping rearmouds. It was impossible not to stare, not just her coworkers but everyone else that she passed by. She simply bit her lip, not making it any easier to look away due to the manner in which she swayed those triple doorframe smashing vast hips, bobbling them side to side, almost like she rewarded you for staring at her... That must have been it, right? She could have just as easily taken the surgery to remove her fat, while keeping some breasts and butt for an hourglass shape, a slim thick shape of sorts. Very attractive, convenient, not so outstanding it causes everyone to look and want to film...but no, she specifically chose to transfer ALL that extra fat into her butt, hips, thighs... she wanted to have a ginormous, colossal ass, and the attention she got from it was just a bonus.

She even made jokes about how they had to increase the number of reinforced chairs for her to sit on. She used to sit on three due to how heavy she was already, fairly wide too - but now she was MUCH wider, to the point where only three chairs would cause too much overflow, not enough equilibrium, and surely a very cushioned, soft landing after those shattered chairs were pushed aside and smothered under every inch of the plumpest butt cheeks anyone had ever seen.

"Wh-what happened?? How did you lose so much weight?...Or well...you know..." A coworker sheepishly asked - she had been a great friend due to both of them being SSBBWs in terms of weight, even if that coworker didn't want to have all that weight, she wanted to be skinny, but was never able to due to a condition that really facilitated weight gain. After explaining how the fat transfer surgery worked, an idea sparked in the mind of the now extremely bottom heavy woman.

"If you still want to get rid of any excess weight to get your dream body...my ass still has room~" Before giving it a firm, hand sinking SPANK that caused those gigawagons to wobble like crazy for what felt like forever.

Hopefully not just her coworker, but many others accept this idea~ <3

[kathren-is-here]

Meet (Negaverse) Della Duck! Mother of Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck, and twin sister to Donald Duck!

She’s a pilot that went to school for it, she’s skilled, professional, and she even flew for the old adventure group Scrooge had, going around all over the world when she was younger.

She was fully expecting and ready to take on a mother role, knowing her kids would hatch soon, but Scrooge had forgotten some timeline details and had the Board schedule her for a new Rocket test from R&D, she obliged, only seeing it as a quick job. But she gets stuck in a meteor storm, and got stranded on the moon for 10 years.

She’s not reckless but she is bold, daring and proud, and wasn’t able to step back from a job or challenge in time to change her fate. She had put her job first and deeply regrets listening to Scrooge, not thinking it though fully or reasoning with him.

In the moon crash, she’s forced to amputate her leg, thanks to her time in the woodchucks she does this successfully, making herself a robotic leg out of broken ship parts, showing her resourcefulness and strong will.

Della is book smart, or relies on her memory for survival and history facts. She’s fascinated by culture and lost civilizations, making her perfect for Scrooges old adventure group. She’s academically proficient and excelled at her classes, even getting into multiple sports over the years, she has a range of skills and means business.

after her return content and more down below!

Della is more cautious of Scrooge when she comes back, and isn’t fully trusting him after the initial moon incident, eventually she listens but grumbles to herself about it. Due to losing trust in others, she’s developed backup plans and is able to think on her feet when a situation gets heated. She’s also more prone to calling out Scrooge for his inactions. (Eventually she starts making amends with Scrooge, seeing how he’s doing now)

She’s resentful to people who wronged her, but she’s full of love and support for her family more than anything, she’s beloved by others, and is willing to help them when they need it.

Della was determined to get back to earth to see her kids, and tell off Scrooge, no mater how long or how much it took.

When Della took flight into space, Scrooge still had some contact, Scrooge tried to coach her through it but the forces were too much for either of them to handle, cutting off contact for the next 10 years until she came back.

She’s careful, determined, a skilled pilot, resourceful, family oriented, tame and professional, a little too stubborn but she’s not an idiot (but she has a bit of temper)

She felt like she was betrayed, even though she willingly went on the mission.

Dellas flaw is her work ethic, she’s way too focused for her own good, blinding her from taking breaks or making time for family

With losing her trust with Scrooge, she has to gain it back, especially in terms with her family, friends and sons

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER -CHAPTER 11

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 11: | AFTERMATH |

You followed Sarah upstairs to her room, the heavy silence between you two feeling like a storm on the verge of breaking. Sarah threw herself onto her bed, her face pale and eyes still red from crying. Her body shook with the intensity of everything that had happened, and she was barely holding herself together. You could feel the tension radiating off of her in waves, thick and suffocating.

As you sat down at the edge of her bed, she turned her head to look at you, her expression pained. “This is why I didn’t want you to be with Rafe,” she said softly, her voice a mix of exhaustion and frustration. “I knew something like this would happen. I knew he’d hurt you or someone else.” Her voice cracked on the last word, her emotions bubbling over as she wiped at her eyes.

You swallowed hard, feeling torn. You had loved Rafe for so long—trusted him. How could this have happened? “I... I never thought he could do something like this,” you admitted quietly, your fingers nervously twisting together in your lap. The reality of the situation was finally sinking in. You had defended him, trusted him, and now he’d gone too far.

“I told you,” Sarah continued, her voice sharper now as she pushed herself up, leaning forward with her hands clasped tightly together. “You’ve always seen the good in him, but this is who Rafe is. He loses control. He always loses control.”

You flinched at the truth in her words, but you also couldn’t shake the thought of him standing there, broken, with tears rolling down his face, terrified of what he had done. That wasn’t all he was. Rafe had darkness in him, yes, but he also had pain, confusion, and fear that he hid under all that anger. You couldn’t just walk away, not like this.

“I have to talk to him,” you finally said, standing up abruptly. Your heart raced with the decision, but you knew you needed to speak to Rafe, to try and understand what was going on in his head. You couldn’t leave things like this.

Sarah’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? No, Y/N, you can’t. He’s not stable right now!” Her voice rose with concern as she stood up as well, grabbing your arm. “You saw what he did. He’s not safe to be around.”

You shook your head, your determination hardening. “I need to talk to him, Sarah. He’s messed up, but I can’t just abandon him when he’s like this. I need to know why. I need to hear it from him.”

Sarah bit her lip, her eyes searching your face for any sign that you were changing your mind, but you weren’t. Finally, after a moment of tense silence, she let out a deep sigh, her shoulders sagging in defeat. “Fine. But... just be careful, okay? He’s not thinking straight.”

You nodded, your chest tightening with a mixture of anxiety and guilt. You knew Sarah was right to be worried, but you couldn’t stay away. You had to hear Rafe’s side, had to understand what had driven him to such a dark place.

“I will be careful,” you promised her, your voice soft but firm. You squeezed her hand gently before turning toward the door, feeling the weight of what was about to come next pressing down on your shoulders.

As you left Sarah’s room and made your way down the stairs, your mind raced with what you were going to say, what you were going to do when you saw Rafe. You knew this conversation wouldn’t be easy. You knew things would never be the same after this. But deep down, you hoped that somewhere, somehow, you could still reach the part of Rafe that you loved—the part that wasn’t lost to anger and fear.

•°•°•°•°•°•

You walked down the hallway, every step feeling heavier than the last as the reality of what you were about to face sank in. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of fear and desperation twisting inside you, making it hard to breathe. You knew this conversation with Rafe was going to be difficult—he had crossed a line, a line you never thought he was capable of crossing, and yet, here you were, unable to walk away.

The door to his room loomed in front of you, separating you from the man you cared for, the man you thought you understood. With trembling hands, you knocked softly before stepping inside.

Rafe sat on the edge of his bed, his posture stiff, shoulders hunched like he was carrying the weight of the world. He didn’t even glance up when you entered. His gaze was fixed on the floor, his expression distant, as if he were somewhere far away.

You stood there for a moment, uncertain. The silence between you felt suffocating, filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. What do you even say to someone after witnessing them do something so horrifying?

"Rafe," you whispered, the sound of his name barely leaving your lips. It was like you were testing the waters, afraid of how he'd react.

For a long, agonizing moment, he didn’t respond. His body remained rigid, unmoving. You could almost see the storm brewing inside him—the guilt, the anger, the confusion. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, and the raw vulnerability there nearly broke your heart. His once blue eyes were bloodshot, and a mix of emotions simmered beneath the surface—anger, guilt, and exhaustion.

"You shouldn’t be here," Rafe said, his voice hollow. He wasn’t telling you to leave out of anger; it was the guilt speaking, as if he knew he didn’t deserve your presence, didn’t deserve your understanding. He looked at you like he knew he was beyond saving like he didn’t deserve your forgiveness.

But you couldn’t turn your back on him. Not yet.

"I needed to talk to you," you said softly, taking a step closer, your voice shaking. "I needed to understand."

A bitter, humorless laugh escaped him as he ran a hand through his hair, his movements sharp and agitated. "Understand?" he echoed, disbelief etched into every word. "Understand what, Y/N?"

The weight of the situation hit you all over again, pressing down on your chest. How could you even begin to grasp what had happened? What had Rafe done? You swallowed, trying to push back the fear that was clawing at you. “Why, Rafe?” Your voice cracked. “Why did you do it?”

He stopped pacing, his jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. His eyes flickered with something—anger, desperation, maybe both. "I did it for Dad!" he shouted as if saying it louder would make you believe it. "I did it to protect him!" His voice was raw, trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. “She was going to arrest him, and I couldn’t just sit there and watch. I had to do something.”

You flinched at his outburst but held your ground. "But killing someone..." you whispered, shaking your head, "That's not how you protect anyone."

"I know!" Rafe shouted, cutting you off. His voice echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls like a physical blow. His chest heaved as he stared at you, his eyes wild with emotion. “I know, okay? But I was scared. I panicked. I thought if I didn’t stop her, Dad would go to jail, and we’d lose everything.”

Tears gathered in his eyes, and his hands began to shake. For the first time since you’d walked into the room, you saw the vulnerable boy behind the hardened man. The mask of anger slipped, revealing a fragile, broken side of him. You stepped closer, your heart aching at the sight of him so lost, so desperate.

“Rafe, I get that you were scared,” you said gently, your voice softer now, trying to reach that part of him that was still human, still capable of understanding. “But this... this is too far. It’s gone too far.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for the first time, you saw the full weight of his guilt. His shoulders sagged as if the realization of what he’d done was finally sinking in. "I know," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I talked to Dad. We figured we could say John B did it." His voice picked up again, more confident now, as if convincing himself this was the solution. "He was staying here. He could’ve stolen the gun."

You blinked, disbelief coursing through you. “You want to blame it on him?”

"Yeah, who else?" Rafe said, frustration lacing his words. "If anyone finds out it was me, I’m screwed. You’ll back me up, right?"

Your heart twisted painfully at the desperation in his voice, but you shook your head. "If anyone asks, I wasn’t there."

Rafe’s frustration bubbled over, and he stepped closer to you, his voice sharp. "Why can’t you just say John B did it?"

"I can’t," you whispered, shaking your head. "I can’t do that to Sarah."

His eyes darkened, his anger boiling to the surface. "You know very well she won’t hold back from saying it was me," he said through clenched teeth. "And you can’t even lie for me?"

“I’ll say I wasn’t there,” you repeated, your voice firmer now. “That’s a lie too, Rafe.”

His hands clenched into fists, and you could see the tension radiating off him, his movements jerky and unsteady. "You said you were on my side. You said we were in this together. Now, what? You’re just gonna turn your back on me? Let me take the fall?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had promised to stand by him, but this... this was more than you’d ever expected, “I am!” you exclaimed, your voice rising with frustration. You took a shaky breath, trying to find the right words, but everything felt hollow. "But this... this isn't just something we can lie our way out of."

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he ran his hands through his hair, gripping it tightly for a moment before letting go. His eyes were wild, the emotions swirling within them too intense to hide. "So what then? What am I supposed to do, Y/N? Just... let everything fall apart? Let dad go to prison? You don’t get it!" His voice rose, a mixture of anger and anguish.

"I do get it," you said, stepping closer, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. "I get that you're trying to protect your dad, but Rafe—this is too far. You can't just kill someone and think it’s okay to blame someone else! You know that’s wrong."

His eyes flashed with frustration, and he slammed his fist against the wall, making you flinch. "What other choice do I have?" he shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "I didn’t want this! I didn’t want to kill her! But if I hadn’t done it, my dad would be in jail right now or worse. Don’t you see that?"

“I do.” Your chest tightened as you watched him. "Rafe, I don’t want to be caught up in this mess.”

His eyes flickered with hurt, and for a moment, the vulnerability returned, softening his expression. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by anger. "Well, maybe you should’ve listened to Sarah when she told you not to be with me," he snapped, his voice dripping with bitterness.

The sting of his words hit you hard, and you took a step back, your chest tightening as the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over. "Don’t say that," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I wouldn’t change a thing about us, Rafe. But I can’t let this consume me. I can’t let it destroy everything—my friendship with Sarah, my conscience…”

He scoffed, looking away as if your words meant nothing, but you could see the hurt behind his cold demeanor. "Yeah, whatever.”

You stood there for a moment, staring at him, your heart aching as the distance between you grew wider with every second. Then, with tears streaming down your face, you turned and walked out of the room, your footsteps heavy, each step feeling like you were leaving a part of yourself behind.

•°•°•°•°•°•

As you left Rafe’s room, your chest felt heavy, weighed down by the tension, guilt, and confusion swirling in your mind. Every step you took away from him seemed to press harder on your heart like you were leaving a part of yourself behind in that room. But you knew you couldn’t stay there. You needed to get out. To breathe.

By the time you reached the front door, your hands were trembling. The air outside was thick with humidity, but even the fresh air couldn’t help you think clearly. You needed space. Time to process everything that had just happened—the way Rafe had looked at you, the pain in his voice, the way things had spiraled so far out of control.

The walk home felt like a blur. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one more overwhelming than the last. You had never seen this side of Rafe before, and now, the memory of him with the gun, the desperation in his voice, was burned into your mind. It was like a nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from.

When you finally reached your house, you slipped inside as quietly as you could, hoping to avoid any confrontation. But as you closed the door behind you, your mother’s voice drifted in from the kitchen.

"Y/N, is that you?"

You froze, not ready for a conversation but knowing you couldn’t avoid her. "Yeah, it’s me," you called back, trying to keep your voice steady as you made your way toward the stairs.

Your mother appeared in the doorway, concern etched on her face. "Where have you been all day?"

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you considered telling her everything. But the weight of it all was too much, and you couldn’t bear the thought of explaining what had happened—of watching her face fall as she learned the truth about Rafe and the danger you were caught up in.

Instead, you forced a small, tired smile. "Just out with friends."

Your mother studied you for a moment, clearly sensing that something was off, but she didn’t push. Maybe she knew you needed space, or maybe she just assumed it was a typical teenage drama. Either way, she sighed and nodded. "Well, don’t stay out too late next time without letting me know, okay? I was worried."

"Yeah," you mumbled, already heading toward the stairs. "Sorry, Mom."

You didn’t wait for a response. All you wanted was to get to your room, to crawl into bed, and hide from the world. You needed the silence of your own space to think—to figure out what your next move was going to be.

Once you were in your room, you closed the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as you took a deep breath. Your mind was still racing, images of Rafe flashing through your head—his desperate eyes, the way his voice had cracked when he said he did it for his dad.

You made your way to your bed, collapsing onto the soft blankets. The room was quiet, but your thoughts were anything but. All you wanted was to find some sense of clarity, but right now, everything felt too overwhelming, too heavy.

As you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, you knew one thing for sure: nothing was ever going to be the same again.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin

[slashingdisneypasta]

Slenderman x Maid!Reader || Drabble

Plot: After Slender has been, well, himself; and frustrated the hell out of you one-too-many times in a day so you storm out of the mansion for a walk to clear your head. He comes after you asking where the hell his servant is going-

Just in time to find the bear staring you right in the face.

//

Or, everyone is annoyed. Including the bear.

(Inspired by videos of animals CLEARLY SEEING something demonic that we cant see.)

Same universe as This fic and This fic.

Warnings: A little bit of Slender being an ass, high-stress situation, Slender being unhelpful and then scaring/hurting a bear (Just making the static noise so the bears ears hurt), mind reading, Slender in a dissociative hunting state, etc.

Tagging: @microwavemadness , @miss-understood , and @yesthetrashbin .

NO BEARS WERE HURT IN THE MAKING OF THIS FIC. WE DO NOT SUPPORT HURTING BEARS HERE.

You storm out of the there as fast your legs will take you without actually running, slamming the door as hard as you can behind you. Maybe he owns you, maybe he's your 'boss', maybe you have to do what he says for the rest of your life- but if you leave without asking, then the bastard cant tell you no.

After walking at the same powerful pace fueled by the raging frustration roaring inside you for a good 7 seconds, just breeching the wall of trees that surround the clearing that the spooky old mansion exists in, you freeze in your tracks violently fast; eyes wide as dinner plates and suddenly wishing you'd stayed inside and put up with your ass of a master.

Because there's a bear. A fucking bear. Its the size of 3 men, its staring right at you, you're stuck staring directly into the terrifying creature's black eyes (The worst thing you could possibly do in this situation), and it looks i r r i t a t e d.

You must have startled it when you stormed into the tree line.

S h i t.

~

When Slender looks for you after you left his office a few moments later, searching for your very annoyed little form (So much anger for one so small) in his mansion, blinking from one room to another until he's checked everywhere- he cant find you. And that ignites a flicker of frustration in himself. Where the hell have you gone, now?? He needs his servant. He loves his peace and quiet, absolutely, but annoying you is a favourite pass time. You're almost as high-strung as he is, after all. And with everyone else gone from this place currently (His brothers, the pasta's, his other proxies), he has all the time in the world to enjoy the quiet. For now he's bored, and he wants to speak to you about your lacklustre method of organising the linen cabinet; just make your life a little hard.

So where the fuck, did you go?

Static fizzing in the air around him, he turns his search onto the woods. He appears right at the edge of the tree line, and immediately finds you in your predicament.

"... ah." Well thats not an ideal circumstance for little Y/N, is it?

As soon as you sense his presence a few feet behind you and hear his voice, you feel all your fear boil over and you want to run behind him. But you don't- you stay still. Slowly, you take a deep breath. You speak while moving your mouth as little as possible, especially when the bear grunts and roars. It seems to hate your voice, but is unbothered by Slender's. Like he's not even there. "... Slender, help me."

Slender does intend to help, truly. He cant be losing his servant. He will not allow a thing, to happen to you. ... But that doesn't mean he cant use this. A glimmer of amusement tickles at the old eldritch monsters cold, ancient heart at the terrible situation.

He was only looking to mess with you a bit, before... but this infinitely better.

"Why should I? You stormed out like a child- this simply appears to be karma, to me."

Oh for FUCKS SAKE- You want to whip around and glare at him, or kick everything on the forest floor at him, but moving might mean getting mauled by a bear right now so you're forced to stay still.

"... please, Slender." You grit your teeth together. Even when the bear grunts again, and stomps a paw down into the dirt. "I'm sorry."

Slender takes the tone of a teacher, as if this is some mental 'teaching moment'. Pretending to be sensible even though he's LITERALLY crazy- He drives you nuts. "Now, that doesn't sound very sincere Y/N. You can do better the that." Stupid, evil, obnoxious, insane creature- "Thats definitely not going to do it."

"I shouldn't- " When the bear lands both front paws down on the ground, prepared to lunge at you and take bite right out of your neck you flinch. Start again. "I shouldn't have y- yelled at you... left the mansion... I'm sorry. Okay???" The bear must hear the panic in your tone, or maybe smells the fear all around you, because it gives a few huffs, and paws dangerously at the ground. Bares its teeth at you.

"Hmm... you know Y/N, I think the bear can tell you're afraid of her. What do you think?"

Suddenly the bear jumps up onto its hind legs, roars and slams back down on the ground, coming forward towards your soft, weak little body, and you squeeze your eyes closed against the terror. "Slender please!- "

When you aren't torn apart by claws or teeth for a few moments, and the roar turns abruptly into a whimper and then heavy breathing- you force yourself to crack an eye open just in time to see the bear backing off again; retreating. You look up with both eyes open to see Slender, grossly tall and with his tentacles floating in the air threateningly around you both, directly behind you now- hanging over you, and although your ears and your head are clogged up with horrible grilling static, you've never been so glad to have him with you; The very visage of a creepy marionette doll or otherwise. Lowering your gaze back to the bear, which looks terrified all of a sudden at the creature behind you and rubbing its poor ears at the sound- you immediately feel awful.

"Slender." You say, cautioning. "Slender, stop."

He doesn't respond, focus trained entirely on the bear.

"Slender."

With a thud of your heart dropping in your chest, you realise this must be what he looks like when he's not at home, seeming almost human with a supernatural ability to annoy you; when he's hunting. And immediately your stomach turns over.

Turning around in place, you grip his old worn suit and tug at it. "Slender!! Stop now! You're finished, the bear will leave!" You make your voice as hard and bossy as you can muster it, trying to cut through whatever horrible old monster instincts are over-riding Slender's personality right now.

When you finally get through to him, yanking his jacket so ferociously that you actually budge him (Not by much; but enough to get his attention), the static cuts off like a switch. He lowers his faceless head to see you down below him, and it takes a little staring, but he comes back to himself. He rolls his shoulders, and you release a relieved breath.

"... you don't want me to kill the bear?" He asks, softly. Almost disbelieving. As if he didn't know that about you; like he was someone else for a minute there.

"No!"

.... With a tone just like an eyeroll, back to himself, Slender straightens up again. You let go of him. "Of course not."

Slender gives the bear a final Look, and the bear turns tail and retreats fully into the trees. You cant see her only hear her- then you cant hear her anymore, either. Gone.

After a few moments Slender turns his head to you again. "... So. Are we going back inside or are we going to stand out here like lemmings for the rest of the day?"

With that he turns immediately, disappears, and then reappears on the porch by the front door; waiting for you. Pretending like none of what just happened actually happened even though you're still in shock and confused. What the hell was that?? Did he just fly into a dissociative state? Are his instincts to protect you???

... is that because you're his proxy, or because you've been having sex? That might be the most important question. What does this mea-

"-What are you waiting for? I have some notes on your ability to put linen away appropriately. Come."

You squint at him; stare into that blank white face waiting for you. Is he listening to you think and distracting you or is he really just that indifferent??

... you cant tell. No surprise.

"I'm coming," You sigh, trudging back towards the mansion. You can think more about this later, maybe. Maybe not. You probably should, but... "but I don't want your notes- "

"Oh you're getting them. Now, about your folding technique- "

But that would mean facing which you want it to mean.

[merv606]

Any thoughts on Terry being truly scared that he could have lost Daniel (supposing that Daniel was stabbed instead) and he goes to the hospital while Daniel recovers. Danny is surprised at how…soft and gentle Terry is with him, treating him like glass, and realizes that Terry was terrified of losing him.

I’ll try to answer this without having the fill by @thereminwriting influence me too much but I am going to take the idea of Terry being the one who saved him because it adds another layer of 🌶️ to the whole fucked up situation. There may be some overlap with Mercy but, with Silverusso there always is, as the themes with them are always the same.

Link below for her take - a suggestion to read it as it’s brilliant! It will live rent free.

What this ask inspired, while I feel hits some points made in the ask it may ultimately fail to hit the mark for exactly what you were looking for.

“You think you’d be grateful, is all,” Terry says, picking at some imaginary lint on the bed, which is not there. They both know that. The place is pristine, more high end hotel than hospital. The thread count on the bedsheets has to be higher than what he has at home, and he is an admitted snob when it comes to his night time comforts.

“Gratitude?” Daniel says slowly, like he’s both processing what Terry said and also surprised he’d even say it.

If it wasn’t for the dull ache in his side, the way he can feel the stitches and staples pull when he moves he’d do something stupid. As it were though.

“Gratitude, gratitude,” his voice rising, and then suddenly Daniel just deflates, that little bit of anger burning through the little energy he has built up.

That scared Terry more than anything. His boy’s fire was always so bright, so warm to bask in, so strong and big, despite the small frame it lived inside. That was why it came out so often, too big for it’s confines, never truly able to be contained at all times.

A fire that drew Terry to it like a moth to a flame, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it’s seductive allure. Helpless in the knowledge that like the moth stunned and destroyed by the light it sought, he too would die by it’s heat.

He could’ve think of a better way to go though.

Softly, “it’s just another cage, Terry.”

“Never pegged you as the religious type,” Terry says after a few long moments.

He’s not, not really. He goes through the rituals of it - mass on Christmas Eve - stopping only when his kids got older and Amanda admitted she was only going for him, and he had to admit he really didn’t know why he did, except that he did when he was a kid.

Daniel looks at the keychain’s pendant in his hand, the keychain having been ripped off and stretched to pick the lock of the cage, and he hadn’t even realized, at the time when he bought it what it was, he had simply handed the kid over some money.

He only kept it because he considered it a lucky charm of sorts considering, what it saved him from - that belief was cemented by the fact it was in the pockets of the leggings he wore under his GI when this happened.

A coincidence, he’s sure, but still, he thinks he needs all the help he can get. He’s probably in the most danger right now, after all.

It had been placed on the bedside table, and it was one of the first things he saw when he woke, and when he groggily reached for it, Terry had stilled him, telling him not to move, placing it the palm of his hand.

Here now, he turns it over in his hand.

Even you can’t save me now, Daniel thinks.

Sitting in a hospital paid for by Terry - his life forfeit it wasn’t for Terry.

His life forfeit all the same.

All the same.

More like delayed, all things considered.

Because now he owes Terry.

He owes Terry a debt he cannot possibly repay.

He wonders how Terry will try to collect; what he stands to gain.

“I must say, I was surprised to learn of your skills.”

“I’m from jersey,” Daniel answers absently. “Of course I know how to pick locks.”

Terry chuckles but then the doctor comes in and like always, Daniel is not made privy to the decisions. Everything in Terry’s hands which, as much as he hates that, they have proved to be quite capable.

He’s alive because of them.

——————————

When a few weeks have passed, he finally gathers the courage to watch the video, and for the first time he sees Terry, how he was saved, how calm Terry was, how efficient, how …. Not what Daniel expected.

He doesn’t know what to feel, not only about watching himself get hurt but about Terry. The feed had cut rather quickly all the same. He doesn’t know why, but he hits replay.

Terry comes in, and freezes, grabbing the tablet from Daniel, shattering it against the wall. A nurse rushes in, and Terry barks something to her as he strides out, and after she cleans the mess, she injects something into his IV bag. He doesn’t bother asking, they never tell him.

Terry finally reappears as the drugs settle through him. Daniel can feel them as they move through his blood, dulling everything further, the pain never truly gone, leaving behind heavy limbs and bad coordination, but a sense of peace even as he feels the bed dip and Terry’s side press flush to his. Daniel goes slack against the older man, his weight fully pressed against him until Terry is the very thing holding him up.

Terry puts Daniel’s hand in his, the only apology he’ll get for the outburst, the thumb rubbing the skin.

“My team will have it removed,” Terry explains, like they do anytime a new one pops up, and although Terry knows he can’t get rid of it entirely, it helps. Having something he can control.

Daniel, after all, makes him feel so out of control.

Daniel, after all, had never made him feel so scared.

All the blood that was already arising the Matt by the time Terry got to him, and it had only taken moments.

The knife - Kreese’s knife - embedded deep - and the white of Daniel’s skin as more blood appeared, watching life drain out of him right before his eyes.

Something that only hit Terry after. Terry only allowing it to hit him after, needing to, in that moment, focus on saving Daniel.

Not willing to accept anything else.

You can lose something you never really had.

But Daniel will be now. Something he has. Finally. And Terry will be damned if he’ll lose it.

———————————

“I can’t believe you put me in a dog cage,” Daniel grumbles as he eats his steak and buttered lobster.

Well he can, but a part of him can’t - won’t - examine it too closely. The same coping mechanism he’s been using when it comes to Terry for thirty years now. It mostly proves successful,

“Danny,” he starts.

“Thought that would, what? Make me submit? Like before.”

A deep sigh, and really Terry has no right sound that put upon.

He wasn’t the one locked in a dog cage.

“Of course you would see it like that.” Both exasperated yet fond.

“How should I see it?!”

At first you would think humiliation, and Terry’s attempt to install fear in Daniel - the same fear Terry felt but, that wasn’t it - not at all.

Nothing could be further for the truth.

It was protection.

Cages keep things in, but they also keep them out.

They keep things safe.

They keep them from leaving.

He actually hadn’t wanted Daniel to wake up until reaching the desired destination.

“I fear cages,” Terry starts but stops, not sure what to say, off kilter in a way only Daniel manages to do to him.

“Why do you fear cages?”

The story pours out, and Daniel sits, stunned.

He had no idea. At all.

Terry’s loyalty to Kreese makes so much sense now. As does their falling out. Which has hardened into hate since the accident.

Part of Terry blames Kreese.

It was his knife after all.

“He always tries to destroy the good things in my life.”

It not only makes sense but Daniel realizes, with a clarity he wouldn’t before, as he too carries that same burden now. Carries the same mixed feelings about being indebted to someone you do not wish to be indebted to.

An understanding, a part of him connected to Terry.

A part of himself that will never belong to him again.

———————————-

He protested in the beginning, Terry helping him change, but now he doesn’t; there would be no point.

He winces, the scar twisting, so new it’s still more deep purple, the skin too tight from where he was sewed and stitched back together.

Terry frowns, his hand touching it, and Daniel flinches; he can’t help it. Even he doesn’t even like touching it himself

It feels wrong - foreign. It feels like a change he didn’t want but will have no choice but to accept.

Isn’t that Terry whoever he comes into Daniel’s life.

It feels like the situation he finds himself in.

It looks ugly, even if he knows in time it will fade to pink and then further still until it’s faded to the point that it nearly matches his skin

He knows he should be grateful to be alive, to be here, even if here is with Terry.

He knows all of this but still, he will carry a piece of this always.

He carrie enough of Terry around with him - he has for thirty years.

The older man’s fingers are so damm gentle as they trace the new skin forming, solidifying into something permanent.

Everything about Terry has been so damm gentle.

All his touches, all the looks directed at Daniel, even when Terry thinks Daniel isn’t paying attention.

Terry helps him into his shirt.

————————————-

“Why?” Daniel asks when he finally gathers the courage. The thing that took him the longest to do.

“I wasn’t about to let you die, Daniel,” Terry nearly scoffs. “I’m not that much of ….”

“I know,” Daniel interrupts.

And he does. Truly. Terry is a Bond villain, and like all Bond villains, he lives to monologue and come up with elaborate plots, plots he knows, deep down, won’t work.

Just like they know Bond will walk away each time, that they want him to, so does Terry.

Because If you really want someone gone, it’s not hard. Simple is best.

If you truly want to win, that is.

But the winning isn’t the point. The end isn’t the point, because it’s not even a journey.

It’s a game, and it’s the fun in playing the game.

But when you take out the opponent, and you win the game, oh how you stop having fun.

Because the opponent was what you actually wanted all along, this game, was the only way to get that.

Something almost ruined this ages old ritual, something the villain hadn’t planned himself, hadn’t even accounted for.

“Why all this?” Daniel gestures around. It certainly is above and beyond. Putting aside the part Daniel can never hope to possibly repay, can’t even begin to, the money alone Terry has spent is astronomical, and shows no signs of stopping. The money Terry has assured Daniel he does not want, nor does he seem to even care about.

They stare at each other.

“I think you know,” is all Terry says, and it’s not cryptic, not at all.

Because Daniel thinks he does too.

Daniel thinks, he always did.

—————-

The plastic surgeon is flown in.

Daniel is fine with the scar.

It’s Terry that hates it.

It reminds him of too much.

The overwhelming fear in the days after, the unbridled anger at it even happening. Something Terry has been felt before.

How he had failed.

How he had almost lost something, that while never was his, was something he had never wanted more.

How he would have lost everything all the same, had Daniel not pulled through.

No.

No part of his boy is to be reminded of this.

No part of him will be marked by any man but Terry.

If his body is to change now, to open and accept anything inside, to be split open, to bleed, it will be by Terry’s doing.

And it will be by pleasure and not pain.

——————————————

The night he wakes to Terry sitting in the side of the hospital bed, everything dark expect for the light of the moon filtering in through the near floor to ceiling windows, is the night he really sees.

The older man’s back is to him, and although everything is silent, eerily so, he can tell Terry is crying.

Daniel sits up, hand holding onto his side, where he thinks it will always twinge slightly, although it’s more a habit now than a need, and the fact that Terry doesn’t turn to him, doesn’t hone in on the fact he’s awake and moving adds to the wrongness of this whole thing.

He gently and slowly lays a hand on the older man’s shoulder, not wanting to spoke him, he’s clearly out of it, and in an even softer tone, the ones he’d use on his kids when they were younger and upset, he asked, “Terry?”

Daniel expects the older man to get up, leave, but instead a large hand comes up and covers him.

They say nothing, but then Terry’s hand squeezes his, and in a broken voice finally speaks.

“I could have lost you.”

Terry made a mistake.

A mistake he can’t fix. - not now. Because he’s in too deep, because he loves Daniel.

And this, this was never the plan, all those years ago. To fall for the boy …. to fall again for the man the boy became.

Because when you love something, you now have something that can destroy you.

Destroy you without even meaning too.

Daniel would have destroyed him, without even trying.

Destroyed Terry in away that he would not have been able to rebuild himself from.

Even a phoenix eventually loses its will to rise again.

A world with Daniel is not one Terry wishes to be in. He tried, for thirty years, and it was no life at all. It certainly wasn’t living.

He got it back though, that feeling of being alive, but oh, what he traded for it. Because now he has this fear, heavy on his chest.

This fear of losing something you cannot replace.

When he looks down, sometimes he can still see the blood on his hands.

“You didn’t though.”

Daniel kneels, his chest to Terry’s back, his head on his shoulder, thin arms wrapped around the older man.

“You saved me.”

He had.

Terry had battled death with his bare hands for Daniel and won. But one day, one day …..

“We saved each other,” is all Terry says, focusing on that to stave off the panic.

“Let’s focus on that,” Daniel says, nuzzling his cheek into his shoulder. Terry can feel the warmth of his breaths gaunt his neck.

Plastered against his back, Daniel moves with Terry almost, to the feel the rise and fall of Terry’s breathing. Terry can feel the beat of Daniel’s heart, they’re pressed so tight.

Concentrating on that. On the moment. On what he can control in the here and now.

The dread subsides, for now, even if Terry knows it has simply retreated.

The moonlight shines down on them, this moment in time, and they stay like that until the sun chases it away, illuminating the sins instead.

———————-

“Oh god,” a breathy little moan, as Terry’s cock slides home, opening Daniel to him.

Four fingers, four of Terry’s thick fingers, and his mouth, had put the time in to get Daniel here like this, body open enough to accept the older man inside him; to accept his love.

Like a virgin on a mound, about to be offered up as sacrifice, this is how he will repay Terry.

Daniel arches up, legs squeezing tighter to the older man’s sides as his eyes squeeze shut, blunt fingernails drawing down a broad pale back.

They’ll both bleed for this tonight.

They’ll always bleed for each other.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Terry groans, and Daniel kisses him, only because he can’t handle much more.

He can’t handle Terry here inside him like this - how good it feels - how right it feels - and hear the raw truth in Terry’s voice.

He can’t.

His body is already the temple Terry is about to worship at - to ruin and rebuild - his body the vessel for this offering of his.

He knows his heart and soul will follow suit. If he was being honest with himself, something he seldom is, they already have.

The older man will accept nothing else. Daniel finds he wants nothing else.

Hands roaming, touching warm sweat slick skin, sharing the air moving between them.

The older man so damn gentle as he keeps sliding in.

Daniel finding within himself, to somehow open more and more, until Terry’s cock is all the way in, both men joined as one.

Terry carving a spot for himself that only he will be able to fill.

Hips snapping in, the wet noises of their coupling, the pin pricks of pleasure when the older man’s cock brushes his prostate, the sharp grin, like a shark sensing blood in the water as Terry concentrates on hitting that spot.

Hands pins above his head, Daniel opening his eyes at the older man’s command, Terry staring down.

“I love you. So much, Danny. So damm much,” he groans, rocking in, burying his face into the smaller man’s neck.

The slapping noise of skin on skin as he’s taken, as Terry chases his release, both of their releases, in each other.

Hands grab slim hips, feeling the bone under his palm, fingers digging in, greedy and covetous, but Daniel can feel the love even if he can also feel the bruises it is leaving.

Love with teeth, it suits them.

Always did.

And a love that leaves marks from those teeth, stained red with blood.

A love that is visible - a mixture of pleasure and pain, sometimes in equal measure.

That is them.

“Oh,” he sobs out as he comes in the space between them, not even a hand on his cock needed.

The clenching of his body, already a tight and perfect fit around Terry’s cock, is the older man’s undoing, and his hand grasps the smaller man’s side, covering the now barely visible scar, as empties himself inside the smaller body.

Daniel’s legs fall off his sides, splayed open obscenely as Terry fills and fills and fills him. He moans softly at the sensation of Terry’s come inside him, which doesn’t seem to be stopping, the warming blooming through him as his hips keep gently fucking in, making sure it’s as deep as it can go, making sure Daniel is even more full than he thought possible.

Finally finished, Terry collapses on top of Daniel, careful as he does though. He’s always careful with his boy, even if sometimes it’s his own personal brand of it.

He doesn’t bother to pull out, loathe to leave Daniel’s body until he absolutely has to, even if he is eager to see the mess he’s left his boy in.

There is always later for that.

They have that luxury of later now.

Who would have thought that here, of all places, a second, third, and fourth chance.

Terry’s lost count.

As many as they need to get it right.

Terry will see to that.

[cs-fox]

LOST AND FOUND | SOAP MACTAVISH X FEM! READER

dude....

had to do this man.

i speak Scots Gaelic of course i had to 😋😋

warnings: angst. and TOOTH. ROTTING. FLUFF.

tw: ⚠SELF HARM ⚠ this is a bit of a trauma dump for me.

only a short 1 this time

______________________________________________________________

Cold. Cold. Freezing sea wind blew through the prison complex. It was situated on a craggy, desolate island, surrounded by ocean for five kilometres on every side, often pounded by a thick mix of sleet and rain.

Your cell was concrete-walled on three sides, completely sealed, but the bars criscrossing the “door” - they allowed a whisper of a bone-chilling, damp zephyr to rattle you to your core.

You’d given up hope two years ago; nobody was coming to get you. Your life had narrowed down from living to simply just surviving, and from there, every second becoming an effort to keep your legs holding you up as you paced, slowly losing your old self.

For, once - you’d been a soldier. The pride of your task-force, but you couldn’t think about them without thinking about him, and allowing Sergeant MacTavish into your mind was simply out of the question.

As you stood with your back against the wall, you studied your arms with a kind of empty abandon. They had once been tanned and strong, but now they were pale and thin. The only thing that hadn’t changed were the scars.

It had been so long since your face had displayed any sort of emotion, so you didn’t wince, didn’t recoil, at the memory of your childhood - problem, you thought with a sickening, dry laugh.

Your mother had scolded you for the cuts being “ugly”, your father beleived you were breaking his trust, his faith, and had shouted at you every time you couldn’t stay clean.

But even now, the thin, puckered white lines stood out against your wan skin, seeming to glow in the dark. 

At least they had stopped dragging you in for questioning. You didn’t know if you could even resist any more, you’d lost all of your will to live after their torture tactics… sometimes you thought those scars would affect you more than physical cuts ever could.

Soap’s POV

Their boat bounced over the waves, bringing the task-force 141 ever closer to that damned island. Soap gazed up from the rudder, one hand on the steering, the other resting calmly on his rifle. 

He then turned his eyes to the three other men alongside him, meeting all of their eyes one by one. The location of this island had been hard to find, but somehow, Laswell had managed it, after almost two years of waiting. A vaguely sick feeling had started to rise in Soap MacTavish’s stomach; he’d seen far too many times what had happened to prisoners of war before. Their sunken, dead eyes, their thin frames and empty faces.

He feared the worst for his lieutenant - the lieutenant he’d lost so many days ago, the woman he’d - he might just have fallen in love with.

He remembered vividly the nights you now refused to think about, spent in his quarters, your soft, uneven breaths as he held you underneath him. He remembered the hands that he’d been forced to think about whenever he undressed, wishing it was you who had your fingers hooked in the belt loops of his jeans, you who twisted your hand in his shirt.

A soft sigh escaped Soap’s lips.

He knew you wouldn’t be the same, perhaps you’d be broken beyond repair. But he would fix you. He would bring his girl home, even if it killed him. 

Mo leannan.

My love.

Finally, the vessel bumped into the rocky island’s shore. A high-walled complex rose in the foggy, dark 0400 sky, blotting out the horizon, and making Sergeant MacTavish shiver.

He tamped down any qualms and turned to his Captain, Price, who had already stepped ashore.

Soap dismounted from the boat, the rain that had been pounding the four men only continuing it’s onslaught, soaking them to the bone. 

The assault rifle that was resting beside him now took it’s place on the sergeant’s shoulder, as he stood in front of John Price, his mind spinning at a million miles an hour. He was going to see his girl again - but what scared him the most was the prospect of finding you - then losing you immediately again.

One breath at a time, MacTavish, he told himself.

[ timeskip because that’s legal here and i’m lazy ]

Her eyes were still beautiful.

That was the only thought in Soap’s head as their helicopter touched down, finally, back at their barracks. She still carried herself with that unwavering confidence he remembered from her days in the military, as his Lieutenant. Despite her arms being pale and wan, along with her thin frame, a quarter of that formerly strong, tanned, beautiful body he loved so much, he still found her breathtaking.

He didn’t care what his teammates thought as he helped her off the chopper, his hands finding the small of her back, supporting her weight.

She exhaled softly. ‘Johnny…’ he perked up. This was the first thing she’d said since they exited the prison building, so he leaned in close. He wanted to hear everything.

‘Yeah?’ Soap whispered, his hand still holding her. ‘What is it, bonnie?’

She leaned into his touch.

‘I missed you.’

He let out a long breath. ‘I’m going to heal you, bonnie, I swear. You never deserved to go to that hell-hole, mo leannan, so I’m going to rip them limb from limb -’ my love.

Soap stopped himself, taking in a short breath. He couldn’t lose himself in front of her, not now.

‘I promise.’

Your POV

He’d been so good to you, for the past months. Maybe years. Or perhaps it was only a week.

You’d lost track of time recently.

Soap took you out into the sunshine often. The light had been a rare sort of delicacy in prison; having this much of something so warm and beautiful felt like a horrible sin.

For the first few nights, he’d fed you dinner. Not because you’d forgotten how to eat, but because he cared. The feeling of his hands gently tilting your chin to press a spoonful of rice, or a mouthful of steak, even a carefully-cut corner of buttered toast to your lips made you feel that little bit more like yourself every hour.

Even so, you still had relapses of your time. You’d collapse, crying silently, on his bed, knees drawn up to your chest. He’d sit with you, hands gently pulling you closer until you stopped. Soap didn’t speak - he didn’t need to. He simply lay there, with you, until you calmed down.

All of his teammates tried to help, as well. Kyle offered his relaxed, calm words, Price, his almost fatherly care. Simon Riley, your co-lieutenant, was a solid, dependable figure. Once, he came silently into your room, after a soft knock. In one hand was the leash attached to his K9, Riley - which he unclipped. The German shepherd bounded onto your bed and lay across your body. All you could give Simon was a grateful look - but he seemed content to watch on with eyes that were crinkled at the edges, signalling his fond expression.

Slowly, your team could see the old you coming back. Kylle caught you in the gym early one morning. Ghost saw you making a cup of tea when you emerged from Soap’s office, and the Scotsman himself often found you sitting outside - simply basking in the sunlight.

Over two years since your breakout, you had become your old self. Strong. Capable. Confident, but with that under-layer of hollowness that only made you more intimidating.

‘You’re stronger, bonnie,’ he whispered in your ear, pride in his voice, as you lay beside him one evening. 

‘Tch,’ you said softly. ‘You’re preening.’

‘That I am,’ he grinned, that thick deep accent never failing to make you smile.

You allowed yourself to lie back, onto his chest, which made him chuckle softly, his warm hand resting on the dip of your waist.

Your skin wasn’t so see-through anymore, your eyes were a little brighter.

‘Creepin’ Jesus, bonnie,’ he murmured, kissing your neck softly. ‘Ye’re still beautiful. Ye never weren’t.’

You smiled slightly, allowing him to continue the trail of kisses he was creating along your neck. ‘Mo leannan.’ My love,

Your pronunciation was a little off, your accent not quite right, but he gasped never-the-less.

‘You remembered, bonnie!’

You laughed, curling up beside him. A tiny flush crept across your cheeks.

‘How could I forget?’

[tevanbuckley]

If you could take Tims place for 8b how would the rest of the season play out? Would you put Tommy and Buck back together and if so, how?

oh where to begin...

tbh i think the bucktommy stuff is the easiest to fix, because the biggest problem (outside of needlessly losing an interesting new character) is it puts buck back to square one, so it could be solved by pretty much any variation of them getting back together. personally, i think the cleanest way would be to have tommy reach out after the kidnapping. would that be the most satisfying resolution? no, but it would stick with the theme of tommy showing up for buck and could be nested within the maddie storyline without taking up a ton of limited screen space. then i'd have buck actually think about his sexuality for thirty seconds (and say the word bisexual).

eddie is difficult bc his arc is dependent on how much truth there is to the speculation of ryan wanting out, but either way for the love of god PLEASE bring up shannon! my thing with that situation has always been eddie's refusal to accept that for all intents and purposes he didn't lose his wife, he lost his ex-wife, and i think having him finally grapple with that would be a good way to conclude his arc (whether he moves to texas or not).

athena is...frustrating, i think there's maybe something in her training new recruits. it would certainly give a bit more structure to her storylines than "random cop shit." i know a certain amount of copaganda is inevitable but 911 is especially bad for it (and imo has actually gotten worse over the years), partly because they refuse to take an actual stance (like why tf was the lady who got shot a sovereign citizen? the audience isn't stupid we know that's not the average victim of police violence). in theory the training stuff could help illustrate how policing is rotten all the way down the chain and potentially challenge some of athena's beliefs (i will be shocked if this happens)

for bobby i'd bring back some of the stuff that was touched on last season. he was an active suicide risk for christ's sake and are we really gonna drop all the tragic backstory about his family and then do nothing with it? perhaps his brother reaches out and causes problems or passes away.

madney and henren meanwhile i fear are a bit of lost cause this season. presumably madney is gonna be wrapped up with the kidnapping/pregnancy shit, which again forces chim into the position of "maddie's worried husband," don't get me wrong i think we'll get some stellar acting from kenny (and jlh) but "madney being sad," is not particularly interesting at this point.

similarly all the really juicy stuff with mara/ortiz/gerrard has already been pissed away — could've been especially interesting if hen and chim were still on the outs during the kidnapping but oh well — if tim's serious about wanting to "blow stuff up," one way to do that would be having hen consider a move to captain at another station. which (assuming they get s9) could even facilitate bobby taking a promotion down the line and her coming back to the 118 in his place.

[shigayokagayama]

I really like the choice to have ritsu find out about the car accident in the anime actually and I do think it adds something to the way ritsu is the one with Context already. like teru has encountered ???% before too but ritsu is the one who has been paying the most attention to the mob situation for even longer than we as the audience have and puts the pieces together. he completes his own arc by finally understanding something he's been struggling with for the whole story, so having that last bit of knowledge rounds out ritsu's position as, like, The Knower. also letting him be aware of the Head Trauma Parallel like the incident when they were kids helps kind of put a bow on the start and end of ritsu's storyline. that's just my two cents as a ritsu enjoyer tho

see i kind of get that but i personally feel like it kind of works better if no one knows the specifics of why this is happening. like, ritsu being like "oh youre acting like this because you got head trauma, you also got head trauma when you were a kid and went ???% mode, this makes logical sense" personally to me feels weaker than "i dont know the specifics of why this is happening but you are my brother and i love you even if there are parts of you i find scary and dont understand, and i want you to stop repressing these parts of yourself and i want you to feel like you can talk to me about them so i can understand better"

also it probably comes from having been a manga reader first but and seeing toichiro say "no one can stop him now" then having a hard cut to ritsu standing on a building and watching all this happen after not having seen him AT ALL before that moment made me lose my goddamn mind. i feel like them including all the shots of him trying to find him kind of killed that tension because you spend the whole episode like "oh this is leading to a kageyama bro confrontation" vs the "OH GOD OH NO WHOS NEXT" feeling the manga had where it felt like you were watching ???% just mow through the cast. i thought teru DIED. i thought sakurai and koyama were DEAD.

[dawnoftime22]

w the story u just wrote (just be here) maybe a part 2? where the reader is pushing away/snappy at tay orrr just another part in general :3

totally ok if not! i love your writing 💋💋🐈

look after you.

| T.S

Warnings: overstimulation (loud music w/ headphones, hot temperature), a bit of R breaking down, anxiety, taylor getting anxious of your relationship

Summary: After a week of numbness, you start distancing yourself from Taylor and saying some things you don't entirely mean. Taylor was just worried for you, but tries her best to find a way to you.

Word Count: 4.1k

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

A/N: you see what happens with me when I proofread is...it was 3.5k words. then it jumped up to 4k and I had to proofread again 😭 have fun everyone

Request A/N: you're lucky I had an extra photo I couldn't decide from the last one :P I thought tay looked too sad...but here<3

| Started on 14/11/2024, 11:26 PM |

| Finished on 21/11/2024, 5:30 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

Request Guidelines | Part One, 'just be here.'

"When I'm losing my control, the city spins around. You're the only one who knows to slow it down."

| ——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

You were staring out the window of the car, watching the buildings go by in a blur of time. Supposedly, you were going to stay at the park earlier today, but because it was so hot and humid outside, you had to cancel any plans of a sweet picnic date.

As the drive goes on, the car reflects through windows of botique shops and restaurants, showing it from the view of anyone outside.

In your mind, unprecedented feelings were swirling without a care. It was different from anything normal, but still as blank as your whole week has felt. It confused you. Your music was playing in your headphones as you try to distract yourself from the poking thorns going through your body, frustration threatening to break the walls of resistance.

The sun was striking through the clouds, blinding anyone who'd dare to look up. You were sure fate was laughing in your face by making the overwhelming feeling worse.

All you wanted to do was go back home. That was it. To be back in your bedroom, curled up, stowed away, casted away. Anything.

The more that time went by, Taylor was starting to notice the quietness that overlayed the drive. There was music playing on low volume by the speakers, and you were usually a quiet person, but the way you had your headphones on made her concerns grow.

She could see how glued your eyes were to the window. You didn't even move or sing to one of her songs that had come up in the car, which was all the more worrying. You were her biggest fan, but you most probably had the entire world blocked out by now.

"Baby? You okay there?" she calls softly over the music, turning it down until it was barely audible. You heard her, but you didn't respond or turn to look.

Her eyes flicker over to you for a moment, but she needed to focus on her driving. You kept your eyes on the window, starting to wish she won't even try to speak to you again just so you didn't have to try to explain.

But eventually, the car comes to a gentle stop at a red light, and she turns her head to look at you. She tries again, even softer this time. "...Sweetheart?"

Her teeth sank into her lip. She thought, maybe you had your music on too loud; because you had a tendecy to do that whenever you had trouble with your mind.

She runs through it in her mind for a moment, hesitating to intrude, but soon she reaches out, going to give two gentle taps on your shoulder. You felt it, but you leaned away, tensing as you keep your eyes on the window.

Without missing a second, her eyebrows furrow, now confirming that you heard her, but you were ignoring her. The situation was growing entirely alarming.

Her mind reels, but she leans back into her original position, her eyes focusing on the roads. Here and there, she'll check on you, trying to make sure you were alright— at least physically.

By the time she was driving along the familiar roads of your neighbourhood, where you lived together in one house, she thought to decide at least one more time.

She took in a breath to only sigh it out quickly. "We're almost home, baby..." she murmurs softly, trying to find chance for the smallest movement.

Your shoulders lowered...just a little, but it was more you slumping into the seat than relaxing. Right after, a grumble mixed in with a whine came as a response. Her eyes flickered to you, just for a moment.

"You look lost today, sweetheart..." she says in a mere whisper. The little shift in your leg had spoken thousands of words more than the quietness thats been passing.

Her teeth bit her lip, deeper this time. "Is there anything you want me to do? Like...a hug? A kiss? Or...we can stop by your favorite bakery..." she murmurs softly. Her eyes travel the area, recognizing the little delicious bakery right around the corner.

You bit your lip, your shoulders tensing as you kept your eyes firmly on the window. There was an odd feeling to let her sentence pass again, but the silence hung too uncomfortably in the air. The fact that you even thought to ignore her was tormenting.

What even was the word to it?...Tired. You were just tired. But it wasn't that kind of tiredness, or even the physical— it was just because your emotions felt like they were on the brink of cracking out and your heart and mind was dazed trying to fight it.

"I don't...need anything...just send me home." you mumbled with a slight edge, feeling the spite in your chest rise all the more. You were growing to only hate yourself if anything, instead of her.

The arrangement of words still bit her in her heart. 'Send you home,' as if she was only dropping you off somewhere instead of going home with you.

"Is there something you're mad at, baby?" she questions softly, but the words she spilled weren't meant to come out so...direct. She nearly wronged herself of her own suddenness.

Your mind stuck on her sentence. You could tell she was anxious just by the way her finger was tapping on the steering wheel. Of course you weren't mad. Well, you were, but not at her.

"No, stop, its nothing...I'm fine." You try to sound assuring, but you were sure your tone sounded too ignorant. Ironically, the both of you were worrying over your tones.

Taylor stays quiet for a moment. "...Are you sure?" She sounded softer. All you could do was shrink into your seat. You wanted to curl your legs up only to remember you were wearing your shoes.

"Yeah, just..." you slowly sighed in a near huff, crossing your arms, looking further back away to the view outside.

You knew it was what some considered to be 'wrong,' acting this way. But you felt overwhelmed. Too much going on to explain, even if it looks like nothing on the outside.

The sun was lowering further on the horizon, and she was soon nearing your shared home. After a moment, she slowly turns the car into the driveway, parking gently.

When you felt the car fully stop, you shifted your position up a little more. She gathered her things, glancing to you, but only to see you unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your phone, opening the car door.

Taylor swallowed down her fears. For a moment, all she had was the silence. All she's ever had was exactly that throughout the drive, but now it was even worse.

Soon, she follows after you, turning off the engine to get out. And of course, she held the keys to the house, so you were waiting at the porch for her, looking down and nibbling at your lip.

As she walks, she fishes the keys out from her pocket, finding the one for the front door.

She didn't want to start anything outside, so she steps on the porch beside you and unlocked the door first, twisting the key to then gently push it open.

Before she could even fully open it, you weaved yourself in from the gap between her and the door. She felt your shoulders brush, but she takes in a breath to calm herself, and slid the key out so she could step in. The door closes behind her.

Her eyes flicker to you in concern. "Baby," she started, watching you get your shoes off. But right after you took your socks off, you went to turn around. She hadn't seen you look at her even once in the past few minutes.

"Hey." She reaches her hand out, gently going to stop you from taking any more steps with her fingers embracing your wrist. You paused, freezing at the warmth.

"We need to talk." Her voice was soft. Softer than the music that was playing in your ears, and oddly she didn't sound mad at all.

A lump was in your throat. "I told you, I'm fine, Taylor." You nearly turned to look over your shoulder. But you looked down instead. Taylor took one step forward, wanting to be closer to you, but not pushing your space.

"It doesn't seem like it ever since we got in the car," she whispers, her hand on your wrist slipping down to your fingers, intertwining them.

She looks into your expression, tilting her head to try and see your face fully. She could see a glistening look in your eyes, and the slightest hint of red in your nose.

"Please." she breathed out. The silence was deafening, and cut the both of you to the core. Your mind was too scattered to speak, and you were trying your hardest to not break right then and there.

But you gently slip your hand out from hers, and she watches as you walked away, your path making its way to the bedroom.

There was a will for her to say something, to call you back, but there was a sign that you needed some kind of space alone after all that, and especially after you spent the time in the car, a place you disliked sitting in.

Even if she wanted to desperately know what the matter was, she didn't want to force you, or overwhelm you up to a certain tipping point.

Deciding to let it go, she sighs softly and goes to the couch. She hadn't even taken her shoes off until now, leaning down to slip them off her feet. It gave her relief as it felt suffocating earlier, but her heart wasn't spared any relief.

When she sat down, she felt a brush of fur against her skin. She nearly jumped, her head instantly looking to what met her arm. It was Meredith, looking at her curiously. She hadn't even noticed her there. Thankfully, she hadn't sat on her cat.

She breathes out the exhaustion in her lungs and leans back against the couch. Her hands cover her face, trying to make sense of it all. Then, those hands run over her cheeks and eyes, right before she let them fall carelessly onto the couch.

After a second, she looks to Meredith. She was laying there with her green eyes and cute scottish fold ears. Taylor's lips pursed, and she reaches out, giving Meredith a gentle scratch atop her head. Her fur was so soft.

She decides to distract herself, leaning back and resting her eyes closed. But it was too quiet, even as her cat purred beside her. Of course she was kept company, but the company wasn't you.

A sigh escapes her mouth and she opens her eyes again, blinking away the fuzziness. Somehow, the blonde manages to grab out her phone. It unlocked as soon as it saw her face, and she looked through her photos of today, seeing one of you in the car earlier today, but you were laughing, looking at a bracelet she had made. At least, until the disappointment of your cancelled picnic.

Was that it? Did she disappoint you too much? Was she having a relationship fallout? Of course not. You loved her with all your soul, and when you needed to, you took your time comforting every inch of her heart as she did for you. Every smile shared was of pure sweetness. It wouldn't make sense for you to simply part from her, even if the fear was deep in her veins.

But then it clicked to her.

The line of connection rose up from when you were numb and dozing off all you could few days ago. You did seem like you were getting better, and she gave comfort every time a bad thought came to you, but it wasn't until now your emotions were coming in again. She worried, even if it should be good, the concerning part is you were snappy and pushing yourself away from her.

But then— this morning too, you had forgotten to bring your bag that usually goes over your chest, which always gave you feeling a sense of ease and safety with the weight of it. Knowing how much your body could feel too light without it, she offered you hers, but you waved her off, thinking it was silly.

When you walked in the park together, your hands were in your pockets, fiddling slightly. She hated the amount of heat the sun had, but you hated it even further. You were talking to each other fine, at least until you were walking back to the car. You got quieter, mindlessly looking down the path, seeming almost bored at everything, or trying to distract yourself from the hot temperature.

Whats even more worse was you woke up earlier than she had. It was understandable that you could have possibly felt overwhelmed— because as much as you loved cuddling, you hated how longer your day would feel, and sleep certainly wasnt an option because you had fully woken up by then.

She lets out a gentle breath, knowing she needed to get to you. There was no telling what could rise up, but all she wanted was to keep you safe. Keep you in comfort.

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

The room was quiet. It was raining, and it's been raining a lot as of lately.

The ceiling fan was humming overhead like usual. The air was so cold, your leg had to seek warmth under the folded covers.

But most of all, the room was dark. You couldn't get yourself to turn on the fairy lights hanging over the walls, even as the skies were gray, and the sun was starting to set, which only dimmed the daylight that spread in the room more. All you wanted was to sulk.

You hated it. Hated how much your mind was stirring up every bad thought you could ever have. Like you were blaming yourself for everything that ever happened, but you were also so extremely angry at everything else. It was a duel of two.

What exactly was that 'everything else' was? Well, really, the only thing you could focus on was the crazy temperature change that bugged your mind, going from the sunny, sweaty weather, then straight to what should be a perfect, cozy rain, but the cold was just too cold. There was no in between. You were sure the world might be ending at this point.

The interactions with Taylor kept reeling in your mind. It was like pages of a book flipping over and over, but it had the same memory showing. It was tiring, it was consuming you enough to send you into a spiral.

A sigh left your lips, and you buried your face into your hands. You wished the warmth you felt was the crook of Taylor's neck.

Oh, god, she was probably so mad at you. Blaming you back just as your mind was. What were you to do? The way you ignored her was outright cruel. You shouldn't have even done such a thing. Why hadn't you spoken about it? Well, there was no way she could have understood in the moment.

Right as your thoughts were going back and forth, a gentle creak came from the door behind you.

Taylor stood there, gently opening it to see you. There you were. She lets out a breath in relief, just a little, but there was no doubt that worry coursed through her mind when she saw how dark the room was. You clearly soaked all the gloomy atmosphere that you could.

But she wasn't focused on that. She was more concerned about the sight of you. You were just about curled up into a ball, like a cat frightened, but in the centre of the bed. Your arms hugged your legs and your head rested on your knees, staring out into the sheets of the bed.

"Baby?" she whispers out softly. That sweet nickname she always uses for you uttered out her lips without difficulty. You turned your head ever so slightly, your hand tightening in on itself as your fingers furled into your jeans.

When Taylor notices the movement and sees just the smallest glimpse of your face, she takes a step forward to be closer. You tensed a little, slowly slumping forward to your knees.

A gentle sigh escapes her lips, and she carefully went to sit down beside you, the bed dipping with her.

"Baby...whatever it is, I'm sorry, okay? I just...want you beside me again." Taylor says softly. Her voice was a near whisper, to softly get you back to her, as if any longer, you'd disappear in the blink of an eye. Your eyes squeezed in guilt at her words.

"Its none of your fault, Tay, I promise..." you whisper, the words stumbling over each other in the pace it came out. Taylor bit her lip gently.

She was hesitant, but she wanted to help soften the situation. "Okay, but is it...because we couldn't have a picnic earlier, sweetheart?" she asks. You divert your gaze off to the bed, frowning a little in hesitance as you thought about it. It was part of the reason, but not entirely. Even you couldn't tell what was wrong. All you knew is that you hated it.

You then reply by giving her a shake of your head. She could see the gesture clearly, and doesn't press any more on the matter, but moves closer to you on the bed. Her arm brushed against yours.

A breathless exhale escapes your lips. You leaned into her. She didn't hesitate to wrap wrap her arms around you, keeping you warm. Relief ran through her when you let her hold you, and the same was going through yours, having missed her embrace. Of course she would be there for you just to love you as much as you deserved.

Your arms tighten around her, and your face buries into her chest. She closes her eyes, giving you a squeeze and nuzzling the top of your head.

After a bit, she could feel the headphones underneath her chin, and she leans back, looking to your eyes. "...Is this okay?" she whispers, lightly grasping your headphones. You gave her a nod, letting her take them off.

Once she set them aside, her hands return to you, but cupping your cheeks gently. She lets her mind wander, wanting to understand you. You look into her eyes, your lips downturned into a frown mixed with a pout. She then takes a gentle breath in.

"You're exhausted," her voice breathed out. Even if you had been numb, unable to feel your feelings, it wouldn't be surprising for anyone to feel overwhelmed and tired after it. Her thumbs gently caressed your cheeks. Your lips were a pout as you nod, insistently almost. You were extremely exhausted, too fed up of everything.

Your mouth opened, but you couldn't get your words out, and you exhaled sharply, leaning more into her. She held you closer, assuring you to take your time in her quietness.

"Its too much. I'm..." Your hand clenches into her shirt and you sighed. Noticing the struggle in you to speak, she gently rubs your back.

"Frustrated?" She suggests, trying to gently help finish your sentence as she tilts her head. She wishes she could have pieced the signs together sooner.

Another breath left you, and you turn your face out, just a little bit, going to grab her hand and holding it for a while. But it didn't take long for you to eventually fiddle with her fingers.

She can see the anxiety stirring up in your actions, and her eyes soften. "I know, baby...I get it," she whispers softly, her other hand returning to your back.

You relax into her hold, nuzzling closer into her as you felt the soothing movement like a warm blanket, covering you.

"Shh...I love you. You're safe with me," she murmurs, moving both you and her in the smallest rocking motion.

"I'm not mad at you, or anything. I promise, sweetheart, I was just worried, and I miss you," she reassures, her voice a whisper right next to your ear. You sniffle gently, feeling the swelling in your throat.

"I'm not going anywhere..." she could feel the skin of her neck getting stained by your built up emotions, all that was kept inside starting to overflow into her embrace.

You buried your face further, a couple tears leaving your eyes by their free will. "Just..." she starts quietly, in thought of her next words.

"Cuddle with me for a bit, hm?" she tilts her head, brushing your hair back from your face, and giving you a smile, even after everything thats happened that day.

You looked at her with gleaming eyes and a red tinted nose, nodding, having been wishing desperately for just a cuddle, but your thoughts were too tightly woven up together to have said anything any sooner.

She gently pulls you closer. You felt safe in her arms. You always did. As if they protected you from the rest of the world, and all its matters.

"I'm sorry I can't give you peace. I...first this numbness, and now this, I...don't even know, Tay," you whisper breathlessly, shakily, your shoulders were tense as the tears dampened her shirt.

Taylor held her lip, quiet for a moment before she rests her cheek against the top of your head. "You give me peace more than anyone could...even at your lowest."

Her hands gently ran through your hair, feeling every strand. "You're the sweetest person I know," she whispers.

You nibbled on your lip, slumping slightly into her in your defeat. "Not today I'm not..." you whispered back.

Taylor's hands pauses, and she takes a deep breath in, leaning back to look at you with a gentle but stern face. "Today, you were overwhelmed," she says, her eyes looking into yours.

Then, her expressions soften, and her shoulders relax. "That's understandable," she reassures, one hand going to your cheek, her thumb wiping away your tears. You watch her with emotion on your face, unable to say anything else.

She continues. "But it doesn't mean you're not sweet...or loving. Or caring." Every point she reasoned stood to their very own without a way to be fought, making themselves known in your mind.

"You were frustrated with your senses and feelings, sweetheart, please don't be too hard on yourself." She gazes at you, the back of her index finger wiping the remnants in the corner of your eye.

"It happens...okay?" she whispers, planting a sweet kiss to your forehead. "Sometimes, you just have to let it go..."

"I promise you," she murmurs, cradling the back of your head. "Just listen to the room." the fan hums. The wind passed by your ears in sweet quiet greetings. Sometimes the bed creaked at certain movements.

"Our breaths..." She gently took a deep breath in, holding it before releasing, guiding you slowly. You followed, seeing her eyes, looking into them to see the calmness inside. She nods in gentle approval.

"Thats it, feel your heart..." Her hand goes down to your chest, her other one grasping your hand gently to rest on the beat of your heart, every thump, going even through your clothes.

She then brings your other hand to her own chest. "And mine."

Anything left of your tears had dried down on your skin, and soaked into her shirt until the next wash it gets. You relaxed a little more, let yourself breathe and focus on just her.

"Thats all you need," she whispers, a small smile raising on the corner of her lips.

"I love you. So much," she says, still holding your hands. You smiled tearily, leaning in closer, and she let you rest your forehead against hers.

"I love you, too..." you whisper, your voice breaking a little. It was quiet. It was sewn rest.

She stays there, soothing, keeping you with her presence, giving you reassuring touches and kisses.

You needed a moment to settle down, to breathe, someone to lean on and give you warmth.

"Everything will be okay."

----------------------

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[ressioo]

can i ask for your thoughts about sunstone as a ship and their dynamic 🥺

Sorry for taking a while, words hard

God. Sunstone. Both in regular canon and SolarFlare they're absolute cringefails to me. The latter just hide it better. Gonna be talking about canon for the most part here

Under the cut because wall of text lmao

Honestly canon sunstone is pretty tragic? Its two flawed people making every single bad decision, and eventually losing eachother as a result. By the time they actually Think and realise what they both did wrong, its much too late to apologise and make things right

I think that if the circumstances were different they'd be able to have a really good, wholesome relationship

Maybe if Pebbles was less desperate to find the triple affirmative. Maybe if the situation before Moons collapse was less tense, if Suns contacted him earlier. If Suns had thought a little harder about the consequences of sending that gold pearl, if they were a little less weak for him, less indulgent. 

I suppose that hindsight is everything. They both regret what happened between them. Especially at the end there. 

Okay now for less depressing shit lmao

Their relationship was purely mentor/mentee for a little while and slowly turned into a very close friendship. They both enjoy art, poetry and music and share many views, which they bonded over. And while Suns might not share the same love for history that he has, they're more than willing to listen. And maybe go out of their way to find out new tidbits for him if they can

They never confess, i don't think. They both develop feelings, but Pebbles is too busy to pay much attention to it and Suns just doesn't quite have the nerve to do anything except hint at it. Though this Does end in them sending him a personalised ring via Spearmaster. Which. Is basically a marriage proposal. At least by Ancient standards.

Pebbles doesn't realise this, mostly because that is a tradition practiced purely by the People. And since he's not exactly aware or paying attention to his own feelings he doesn't clock it for what it is.

He does send them back a ring though. Basically treating it like exchanging friendship bracelets or something 💀 Suns about has a heart attack. From what they know he doesn't share their feelings, and they're too much of a coward to inform him about what the gesture meant, so. They end up unofficially officially married. And then unofficially divorced once the second pearl reaches him in Spearmaster's campaign

Pebbles finally gets his shit together sometime during Arti's campaign. She brings back a pearl about marriage traditions and it suddenly clicks for him. Not really the best time to find out, honestly. What with everything going on. Not even truly Finding Out, since he can't actually ask them if thats what the whole thing meant. 

They never speak again, and neither gets closure about it. They both keep their rings though.

-

Now a little bit about SolarFlare specifically because they actually get together and meet in person in that! Wont be able to say too much without brain getting on my case for revealing too much though lmao. SF sunstone are Extremely exaggerated in their everything, so obviously not saying canon compliant off the string would be quite like this 🙏

They dont become a thing until they've actually met in person, though the line between being close and being Close was blurred for a bit before this point

Pebbles is the one that says something first, and they become official after that

They're like,, really abnormal about eachother. Like its genuinely obsession for them. They be jealous and posessive and codependent as hell. Both of them. Its not healthy, but they are genuinely really happy with eachother. Kinda made for eachother in that way. They're eachother's favourite people and they Will make it other people's problem

End up marrying at some point (after having an actual conversation about it this time), and its both because they wanna show love and devotion but also because they're very about it being a way to claim eachother. And that being visible to others

I love them and their weird relationship