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smileysuh · 1 day ago
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sage & stardust - TEASER
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🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu holds y/n down by the wrists, size kink, mentions of possible bondage kink, heavy petting, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, oral (f receiving), praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu.  
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.6k
🍭 aus. Fairy au, fantasy au, non idol. 
☀️ mlist + an. Okay, so, I’ve written sooo many fics on this blog, and lately I’ve been wanting to try things I haven’t done before. I’ve never done a legit small man fairy dude (who does become normal/large sized later) x yn in a fic before, so bare with me, because these two are such a delightfully domestic pairing. Without further adieu, I give you: blue-collar fairy Mingyu. 
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Even you have to admit the space has ambiance. The solarium studio is a lovely part of the house, your favorite in fact, although, tonight, you’re feeling a little shy about your art strewn about.
“Did you paint all of these?” Mingyu asks, approaching your most recent work.
“Yeah, they’re uh, abstracts,” you explain. “I mean, I gather a lot of inspiration from nature, but it’s more a feeling than a specific thing that I like to paint, if that makes any sense.”
“It does,” Mingyu nods, leaning down to get a better look at your art. 
“My grandma, she uh, she was an artist too, and so was her mother, and she gave me the house because she knew I needed inspiration-”
“Maybe that’s why she gave you me too.”
Your heart lurches in your chest, and you blink up at the tall man. “Uh… maybe.”
“So this cottage has a long line of artists and tinkerers,” Mingyu concludes.
“The line ended in my mother’s generation,” you sigh.
“That’s not true.” Mingyu looks down at you. “We’re here now.”
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jweekgoji · 3 days ago
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Can you do another part of yandere D-16, please 😭 I love the stories so much! Make us pleasure him so bad until he's wimpering, then tons of aftercare! And make us love him, not just a one-night stand 😭
Yandere!D-16/Reader
tw: some minot changes in canon, slight yandere themes, valve fingering (MDNI), gn!reader, D-16 has a valve, sub!D-16, soft dom!reader, power dynamic cogged!reader/cogless!d-16. word count: ~1650 a/n: this can be considered as a second part to this. but I think (??) it also can be related to this. probably somewhere between the other two I wrote before. there are a few similar requests about d-16, but I want to do all of them differently as much as my creativity lets me. tagging since I was asked: @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main
The day D-16 met you felt like experiencing one of those vivid dreams he constantly had. His whole body was in pain; the loud ringing in the processor made his optics see the tiny stars circling around him in the air. Thank you, Pax, this is exactly how he wanted to spend his day! And totally not to ogle your sleek, shiny alt mode from his seat..!
Oh no, oh, Primus. You probably saw it all too, aren't you?
D-16 groaned in pain as he tried to sit up. He leaned his frame against the wall, holding onto the dented shoulder. Orion left him waiting here, all alone, as the blue-and-red mech tried to endlessly explain the situation they were in. The optimism this guy sometimes had...he can only pray in his mind that somehow you hadn't seen him failing on the race.
Maybe you had never noticed him, just passed through without paying attention. Yeah, this is more like true. After all, he's so  gray in every sense of the word; among all the other miner bots, how is he any different? Too small in this world to be noticed.
The day was a disaster of any means. The cold looks he received from other racers as he waited for the repair, that awkward meeting with Sentinel, and of course, Darkwing just had to be there too. The moment Orion and him leave this area and go back to mines, there's no escape from their supervisor. How much more lucky does he get today again?
D-16 was nervous to the core of his spark. The thoughts of “Why did I even follow him...especially on the day when Sentinel Prime arrived?” or “I hope they don't know it was me” flooding his mind.
Another worst thing was, you hadn't even won the race! Chromia got before you just in mere seconds, and the possibility of him, being the reason behind this fail only made D-16 sigh in disappointment. 
“You and your friend put on quite a show today,” your voice suddenly came from beside him.
D-16 almost jumped up from his seat at the sight of you, and for a moment, his spark stopped beating. He barely had time to process what you told him before suddenly, the little miner rises to his feet and looks up at you with those big optics.
You saw that his mouth was open, but not a single word came out from his mouth. The poor thing was so scared, he had so many thoughts running through his head, but he couldn't pick a single one to voice it to you. You could only calm him down slightly by holding your hands in the air, trying to show that you didn't mean any malice.
“I'm sorry, I probably ruined your chance of winning this race,” his optics ran his eyes around as if he was trying to find the right words to say to you. “I'm a big fan, and I would never want-”
“I was going to say that you two actually made this race a little more interesting than usual,” you interrupted him. “Racing against the same bots isn't as interesting as it used to be. I admire that.”
You admire him. D-16 falls silent again, but even though he's stopped saying anything then, his optics perfectly captured all the thoughts in his processor. Love.
He never thought he'd ever meet a bot in a higher position than him who would treat him with a speck of kindness. That brief moment when the Sentinel shook his hand was the first such occasion. His idol, standing right next to him, shook his hand. Somebody pinch him harder!
Then there was you. Someone who had always held a special place in his spark. So small, incredibly fragile in your hands, but every time D-16 is near you, it beats so hard, as if your mere presence is enough to give him more strength.
He doesn't know what you see in him. He's an ordinary and insignificant miner, there are hundreds if not thousands like him. Even Primus didn't give him any bright colors.
He never had a chance to think about standards of beauty, certainly there was barely enough time to rest after hours of non-stop work. There were one time he could hear the conversation between the supervisors as they discussed the celebrities of Iacon. Blurr, Windblade, Rosanna, they all just glowed in relation to the dull, battered frames of his coworkers, definitely not the ideal of beauty that exists on Cybertron.
And yet, here you are, right next to him, and your hands are holding him so gently, so close to your chassis. He moans softly as you move your fingers inside him. Only two, no more, no matter how often he begged and whimpered for you to add another, you always denied him.
“Just relax and feel every touch from me,” you kiss the corner of his mouth softly.
Right. Calm down, D. You're already giving him too much time, begging you for more would be wrong, he doesn't want to seem pushy to you. If this continues, you'll just get disappointed in him and walk away.
“Mgggh...!” D-16 instinctively arched his back. A loud, needy moan once again escapes his lips.
Sometimes he feels like, aside from your obvious charm, you can definitely read his mind, and your every slightest movement is calculated to make him forget his rank.
He's so wet, the lube coating your fingers and already managing to slowly flow down his inner thighs. For a second, you think about just flipping him over on his back and burying your head between his legs, making him scream and beg to give him a break from the endless round of overloads you're giving him.
But no, that would be too much for the first time, wouldn't it? You don't want to scare the poor, little miner away with your twisted thoughts. Not now, anyway.
In the time it takes you to give yourself to daydream, D-16 only gets more impatient. Moving his hips, he practically fucks himself with your fingers. His head is thrown back, and the servos cling tightly to your shoulders, squeezing gently, each time he lowers his own body down.
He feels so full, but that small, carnal desire for more can't help but pollute his mind. More, more, please give him more. Perhaps because of a sliver of fear that you're about to leave again, he'll be left alone and with nothing, and all he'll have are memories. He wants to get as much as he can while there's still a chance.
“Careful, or you'll hurt yourself,” you gently lay your other servo on his waist.
Tiny. You can't help but want to run your finger over every little bump on his body, every little rough edge...something about him fascinates you, that slight naivety and eagerness to make you proud. He's just hard to say no to.
You gently guide his movements. He's inexperienced, but the desire for something more, even though he hardly knows what he's doing, clouds his mind. You feel his tight, small valve squeezing your digits like a vise. His initially quiet, needy meows grow louder, and by the little blush on his cheeks, you realize he's embarrassed.
“Can I overload? Please,” he whimpers shyly, hiding his face in the curve of your neck. “Ahhh...I'm so sorry, I can't take it anymore.”
How sweet. You've convinced him so many times that it's okay, he shouldn't have to keep hiding his pretty face every time you hold him like this. You don't care what position he takes, miner or not, you want him to feel like an equal. He deserves to be pleasured just as much. To love and be loved.
You nod, making a mental note to talk to him about it later. His habit of pleasing bots ranking above him just kills you.
D-16 wraps his arms around your neck, leaning slightly closer, as much as he can. He so wishes it was your spike instead of your fingers, stretching his valve with every thrust.
But he'll never admit it, he'd rather take whatever you offer him, because he loves you so much. Every touch from you, every glance in his direction, it's all so overwhelming.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you-” he repeats over and over, his hips desperately meeting every thrust of your fingers inside him.
You feel him squeeze your digits again, his breathing halting for a moment before he exhales heavily and then nearly collapses on top of you.
D-16 leans his forehead against yours, closing his optics to slowly gather his thoughts. You barely move your fingers, still deep inside him, and even a slight twitch earns a whimper from him. Still very sensitive, you should definitely work on his stamina.
You gently take his chin, tilting his head up to give him a small kiss. He moans softly, but reciprocates the kiss.
D-16 has never seemed plain to you. Unusually strong despite his height and lack of t-cog, his body covered in many scratches after cycles of hard work. But now you are treating him with such care.
 He cherishes it so much. Sometimes he wonders if you have any idea how many times he's touched himself, with you in mind? How an embarrassingly lot of pictures of you he keeps plastered all over the wall? I guess that's a question for another day.
You may not have won the race, but you got more than that today.
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koenigami · 3 days ago
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'cause my love, is mine all mine. tags : fluff, fem!reader, child!reader, reader accidentally turned into child, a little angst and brief mention of his past wc : 2k synopsis : a failed commission leads to wriothesley having to take care of a mini-version of the love of his life - Laughter and squeals echo through the large hall as Sigewinne leisurely skips her way up to the Duke’s office, the sight that awaits her at the top of the staircase planting a soft smile on her face. 
A slightly out-of-breath Wriothesley chasing a little girl around his desk, her h/c hair bouncing and flying back and forth as she tries to evade the man’s arms all while giggling and grinning as if there were no tomorrow. 
To anyone else, this would seem like any other normal afternoon on which the Duke spends time with his daughter, a carbon copy of you, and entertains every single wish of hers because he’s physically unable to tell her no. 
However, many things that occur in the Fortress of Meropide should not necessarily be considered normal. Because in fact, you and Wriothesley don’t have a child that looks exactly like you. Because said child is, as a matter of fact, actually you yet simply a younger version of yourself. How is that possible, anyone would ask? 
Well, let’s just say that your last commission with the adventurer’s guild didn’t exactly go the way you had hoped it to. While on expedition, your team had found a yet unexplored cave and stumbled upon a variety of ancient artifacts. 
By your colleagues’ reports, it seems like a look into a small hand mirror was all it took for your body to shrink, and your features to turn younger by two decades.
It has been almost 48 hours since Monsieur Neuvillette had visited him in his office, the young girl that had been tightly holding onto his hand immediately running up to Wriothesley as soon as her eyes fell on him. All it took was one single look at the Iudex’ apologetic expression, as well as one look at the child’s too familiar face to know that something must have gravely gone wrong during your mission. 
“Sigewinne!” You smile when you notice the Melusine quietly standing across the room. With an equally kind face, she waves at you before motioning Wriothesley to have a word with her for a brief moment. So, dejectedly, you watch as the huge man with messy black and greyish hair leaves you to your own devices. 
With a little pout, you settle down on his big fancy chair, fish out the markers that he had let someone bring for you, and continue the drawing that you started earlier while he was busy with some paperwork. 
You aren’t entirely sure what it is about him, or the other man with beautiful long hair who had brought you to Wriothesley in the first place but- Amidst the chaos in your head, and the fact that you can’t remember a single thing that happened before the past two days, something about them was comforting and provided you with a sense of safety. Especially the wolf-like man. He was nice. 
There’s a sudden warmth that settles on top of your head. With big, sparkling eyes, you peer up at Wriothesley who’s analysing the lines of your colourful drawing while his hand nearly engulfs the entirety of your head. “Is it okay if I leave you alone for a few minutes? There’s some stuff I have to check with Sigewinne. I won’t be too long, I promise.” 
He notices your eyes widen briefly before you start gnawing on the inside of your cheek and contemplate over his words. Ever since you’ve come back like this, Wriothesley has not been able to leave you alone for even a second, which you’re more than happy about because spending time with him is fun! Of course he doesn’t let on that the reason behind it is his worry about something happening to you, or you getting yourself in trouble, or someone else using your current state as an opportunity to hurt you. 
That’s why it pains him even more when he sees the brief look of reluctance in your eyes before you nod silently and go back to your drawing.
With a sad smile on his face, he sighs once he realises that even your younger self seems not to be any better at voicing her true feelings, instead opting to just swallow every negative emotion like a bitter pill. 
With a caress over your soft hair, Wriothesley leaves, and the sound of his thick boots as he descends the staircase echo through his office before the door falls shut behind him. 
-
True to his word, Wriothesley returns a quarter of an hour later, a small flacon in his hand which is supposed work as an antidote for whatever kind of higher power has cursed you. As much as he has gotten to enjoy your younger self’s presence, there is no denying that he misses the actual you. And the longer you’re staying in your current form, the more he frets about the possible consequences it could have for your body and health if you’re not turned back into an adult as soon as possible. 
Climbing his way up to his office, he can already tell by your panicked little murmurs that you must be up to something. If anyone else so much as tried to snoop around in Wriothesley’s sanctuary, the consequences would be grave. Yet the simple thought of little you stomping around, your eyes sparkling with curiosity as your small chubby hands open and close drawers, and pry open insignificant boxes and chests- He can’t help but smile with a little headshake. 
However, his smile immediately falls when he sees your slumped figure kneeling on the floor, surrounded by books and other objects that must have fallen out of the shelf and crashed down on the floor. 
You startle when he softly calls out your name, the picture in your hand shaking the slightest before you clutch it to your chest and turn your head to face him. 
Oh, you’re going to be in so much trouble. All you wanted was to have a look at the framed picture on the shelf, yet in your attempt to jump up to reach it, you accidentally knocked it over with other books and a little vase. And now everything’s broken. The vase, the frame. He’ll be mad. 
“Hey, what happened here?” 
“I-I’m sorry. I wanted to see the picture b-but-” Your lips wobble, tears fill your eyes, some of them already spilling over your cheeks, as your little body starts to quake with each sniffle and sob. 
Comforting words are already on his tongue, but when his eyes catch the broken pieces of porcelain and the glass shards, he immediately feels his blood pressure rocket before he gathers you in his arms. The cushions of the leather couch creak as he sets you down on it before his hands trail over your arms and legs, making sure that there aren’t any cuts or shards lodged into your delicate skin. “You didn’t hurt yourself right?”
Confusion etches itself clearly on your face, because why is he not yelling at you? 
At the light shake of your head, Wriothesley’s shoulder visibly sag as he sighs in relief. “That’s good. You have to be more careful, sweetheart.”
Your nose wrinkles as you sniff and wipe the snot off your face with the sleeve of the overly large shirt that you’ve got on. He seems anything but upset. He smiles gently at you, large and warm hands brushing over your cheeks to wipe the remaining tears away before he throws himself on the couch beside you. 
“You’re not mad at me?” You sound like a little mouse, and shyly look up at him through your wet and clumpy lashes. Instead of a scowl and disappointed expression, you’re met with gentle blue eyes and an expression that radiates so much reassurance and comfort that it only confuses you even further. Though, at his next words, you think you understand his reaction a little bit better. 
“Of course not. I mean it’s not like you knocked those things over on purpose, right?” 
The quick shake of your head earns you a thorough ruffle through your hair, paired with a content See? No biggy then, which finally loosens some of the tension and fear in your body. And as the thick paper in your hand crinkles the slightest bit, you realise that you have completely forgotten about the initial reason for this entire ordeal. You hold up the picture in front of your face, and decide to show it to him. 
“She… she’s really pretty.”
“Yeah?”
You shoot him an earnest expression, lips pressed tightly as you nod eagerly and hum. Wriothesley cocks a brow at you and a wide grin stretches his mouth, his hand again resting on your head. You like when he does that. 
“You know, sometimes she doesn’t believe me when I tell her how beautiful I think she is. Unbelievable, huh?” 
The way you gasp incredulously and look up at him with utter disbelief in your eyes almost makes him bite into your soft apple cheeks. “T-Then you have ta’ make sure you tell her more often. Until she believes it!”
Wriothesley seals his promise by hooking his pinky finger around yours, the difference in size making his heart melt into a muddle. And as you hum satisfiedly and return your attention back to the picture of you and him that has been taken a few months ago, he has to admit that as much as he misses the real you- He won’t miss this version of you any less. 
But the presence of the little flacon in his pocket burns in his pocket, and as Sigewinne’s words echo through his mind, he comes to the realisation that bed time is slowly but surely approaching. 
-
As the sun rises, and the fortress automatically comes to life again, Wriothesley is more than relieved to notice your long legs entangled with his, your arm fully able to reach around his waist and pull yourself closer to him. Giving you the potion before falling asleep just as he has been instructed to do must have done the work. However, as his fingertips brush over your cheek, he’s alarmed at the sudden moisture coating them. 
“Love? What’s-”
You’re awake. He notices when you bury your face further into his neck and refuse to look at him while tightening your hold on him. Speechless and with a still sleepy and hazy mind, Wriothesley instinctively buries his hand in your hair on the back of your head, the light massaging motions of his fingers seeming to calm you. 
With a wet sniff, you eventually pull back and allow him to have a look at you. The same pretty eyes, the same gorgeous smile, the same cute nose that he loves to brush his own against, but this time with slightly less chubbier cheeks and a more mature expression.
“Are you alright?” His body follows yours as you sit up without uttering a word, and instead proceed to wipe your tear stained cheeks. “How are you feeling?” 
The longer the silence between you lingers, the more Wriothesley becomes agitated. Could it be that the potion has any side effects? Physically, at least, you seem to be fine yet-
“I’m sorry. I’m fine, I promise. It’s just-” With a last sniff and brush of your finger along your waterline, you turn towards him with a wobbly smile and throw yourself back into his arms. Yeah, wiping all those tears away was for naught. “Gosh, Wriothesley, I just love you so much, you have no idea.” 
Wide eyed, he accepts your embrace and snorts at your sudden outburst of love. Naturally, he would never dare to complain about it. Instead, his nose buries in your neck, inhaling your scent, his arms tighten around your waist, hands roam over your back and take in each and every part of your body. 
He's truly missed you.
You don’t remember much of the past few days, yet what you do remember perfectly well is the warmth, love and care with which you had been handled. It’s overflowing and filling you with even more adoration for this man because you’re fully aware that it has been him who has taken care of you. Wriothesley, who never truly got to experience the same kind of affection in his early life, who has seen too many atrocities at such a young age. Your heart breaks over the things that he has missed, yet it mends again at the realisation of how proud you are of him. How proud and lucky you are for him to be yours, and you to be his. 
And of course, it goes without saying that after this little incident it doesn’t take long until you and him happily announce that if all goes well, in a few months there will be a mini-version of you and him running around the fortress of Meropide. They will fill the place with joy and laughter, and yours and Wriothesley's life with even more happiness and love.
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cece693 · 2 days ago
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Captive (Michael Myers x GN! Reader)
Hello! So I'm trying to get back into writing and this idea came to me instantly. I hope you guys enjoy :)
Summary: You were a witness to one of Michael's killings, however, instead of killing you, he'd taken you as a prisoner. How odd...
tags: captive reader, wrong place wrong time, Michael finds you cute, I guess????
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It had started out as an ordinary night in Haddonfield. You’d been walking home from a late shift at the diner, the brisk October air nipping at your cheeks, when you heard the first scream. It was faint but unmistakable—a high-pitched sound of terror that froze you in your tracks. Against every instinct telling you to run the other way, you stepped toward the noise, peering down the shadowy alley.
That’s when you saw him.
A towering figure in a white mask, broad shoulders framed by the dim glow of a flickering streetlight, his hand gripping the handle of a knife still dripping with blood. At his feet lay a crumpled body, lifeless. You couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your lips, and in that split second, his head snapped toward you.
You ran.
Feet pounding against the pavement, lungs burning, you sprinted as fast as you could. But it didn’t matter. He was faster, quieter, and before you knew it, a hand had clamped over your mouth, pulling you into darkness.
When you woke up, you were in an unfamiliar room. The walls were bare, the single window boarded up. The only light came from a dim bulb overhead, casting eerie shadows. You wanted to try the door, but before you could stand, the door clicked open. Michael entered, carrying a tray of food—a bowl of soup, some bread, and a glass of water. The sight was so absurd it almost made you laugh. This was the infamous killer, the Boogeyman of Haddonfield, and he was bringing you dinner like you were some houseguest? You didn’t move as he placed the tray on the small table by the bed. His movements were methodical, deliberate, and he didn’t utter a single word.
Then, he reached out—a calloused hand moving toward your face, his intent unclear. You jerked back instinctively, scooting as far away as the bed would allow. His hand froze mid-air, and his head tilted slightly as if puzzled by your reaction. This was the first of many strange interactions.
Over the following days, his behavior became increasingly bizarre. He never spoke, never even made a sound, but his presence was constant. He would sit in the corner of the room, watching you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. If you tried to engage him, asking why he hadn’t killed you or begging to be let go, he would simply tilt his head, his silence more unnerving than any response could have been.
Once, you woke up to find him standing over you, holding a tattered blanket he must have found somewhere. He draped it over your shoulders like he thought you might be cold. Another time, you caught him fiddling with a small, broken toy—a doll missing an arm—before carefully placing it on your makeshift nightstand, as though it was some kind of gift.
The most unsettling thing, though, was how he seemed fixated on your hair. He would often reach out to touch it, running his fingers through the strands like he was petting some fragile, delicate creature. If you recoiled or tried to stop him, he would pause, head tilting, as though trying to understand why you didn’t like it.
One evening, the absurdity of it all reached a peak. He entered the room holding a scraggly bouquet of flowers—wild ones he must have picked outside. He placed them awkwardly on the tray of food, stepping back to watch your reaction. When you didn’t immediately reach for them, he shifted his weight, almost…impatiently.
You realized then that this wasn’t just captivity. Michael Myers, the man who had slaughtered so many without hesitation, was trying to take care of you. Protect you. Maybe even…keep you.
But why?
You were just some random witness, a bystander who had seen too much. There was no reason for him to spare you, let alone act as though you were something to be nurtured. The absurdity of it all was maddening—his eerie, unspoken obsession transforming your imprisonment into a surreal nightmare. And yet, no matter how gentle his gestures, you couldn’t forget what you’d seen in that alley. The cold efficiency of his kills, the way his knife had gleamed under the streetlight. You were living with a monster who treated you like a cherished pet, and every moment you wondered when—or if—that mask of strange tenderness would slip.
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thisonehere · 2 days ago
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Csn you write Smoke x fem. Reader about the reader waking Smoke by giving him kisses along his bare back?
I sure csn!
The Sleeping Beauty
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Tags: Request, Tomas x fem!reader, MK1, Heat, hugs and kisses
C/w: Slight-smut, body-worship, blue balls
It was morning time at the Shirsi Ryu's Sunlight poured into Tomas's room from the curtains. Blanketing you in its color, your eyes open and strain at the soft light. You can hear birds chirping You lift your head up just the slightest to look at the alarm, 8 AM. As you rub your eyes, you look over to Tomas, there he is still sleeping soundly on his stomach. Like many times before, you had stayed the night in hid room, and like nights before, it was wonderful. You're honestly surprised you woke up before him. Usually he is always the first to wake up, he lets you sleep in for a few extra minutes as he gets ready. On many mornings he has breakfast that he lovingly crafted just for you to enjoy. Other than the burnt parts, it often tastes almost decent.
A wide smile spreads across your face as you look at him. You take the moment to just admire him and how cute he is. His short hair is messy from the night of tossing and turning to find the right position, drool drips from his mouth, a pleasant smile decorates his face as if he's dreaming of something sweet. Tomas likes to sleep shirtless, leaving his body on display for you. The warm morning light blankets his back, highlighting the many muscles. Muscles he often uses to cuddle you many times during the night. You nuzzle up next to him and take in the warmth of his soft skin. Soon he'll have to get up and leave, so you melt into him as you just enjoy the moment.
Tomas, still somewhat asleep, wraps an arm at you, holding you close, then begins to snore all over again. You feel in such a state of peace, it's a shame in a few minutes it'll all be over. So why not start the morning off with a little fun? A mischievous thought suddenly popped into your head, your content face soon morphs into a sly smile as you get out from under Tomas's arm and hover over him. After trying to hold back a few giggles, you go down and place a kiss on his back. And then another. And another. Up and down his back you pepper one kiss after the other. You get everywhere, along his spine, his shoulder blades, even getting close to his lower back. You worship his glorious body with one kiss after the other.
After a few moments, Tomas begins to stir. First with a slight groan. And then he lets out a confused sound as he comes to. You just continue to kiss the man's back as he moans a little under breath. He lifts his head up and looks over his shoulder at you, "And what are you doing down there?" As he has arches brow and a surprised smile. "Just making sure you woke up the right way." You finally stop as an uncontrollable giggle overtakes you. "Well, that's certainly been accomplished." His face burned red with blush as a fluster expression is on his face. He rolls over onto his back and spreads his arm, inviting you in for a quick cuddle, which you happily accept. You lay your head onto his chest as he wraps his arms around you. "There's a lot to be done today." His voice has a slight serious tone to it. "Honzo?" You guessed, Tomas just nods. "Among other things, I have a full day ahead of me." Tomas groans. The sky smirk returns to your face. "Then why don't we begin it the right way?" Tomas gives you a questionable look, it slowly dawns on him what you mean. The blush gets even harder as he stares at you flustered.
You begin to kiss him. Starting from his lips, going down to his neck, then to his chest, all the way down to his abs. Tomas lays his head back, a smile on his face as he braces to enjoy what you're about to do. You make your way down further his body, being sure to pepper kisses all over his torso and before getting to his belly bottom. Soon, you are close to his pants. Tomas lifts his head up to give you, an excited smile on his face. You reach for his pajama pants, kissing and sucking at his pelvis. You can just feel Tomas's excitement as you slowly undo his pants and pull it back to reveal a part of his groin. "I better go get ready." You suddenly say, lifting head up from his body and pulling the pants back to where it was. "W-Wait, What?" Tomas is quick to sit up in bed. He's confused as he stares at you dumbly as you jump to your feet. You leave Tomas on the bed, flustered and panting mess as you make your way to the door. "Wait," Tomas lifts his pajamas and stares at the problem you've just created. "Y/n, y-you're not going to leave me like this, right?" He asks with a panic as he looks miserably at the stiff monster. You don't answer back and you leave the room. "Y/n?" He desperately calls to you.
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euniexenoblade · 2 days ago
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I debated if I wanted to mock this post/screenshot for a couple hours and i decided I was just gonna go in line by line and dissect it
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"being poly is a choice you make. not an identity you cannot change."
I disagree. I struggled with this through most of my teens and early twenties. The desire to be with multiple people was strong and the concept that I couldn't be with all of them was very confusing and hurtful not just to me, but the people I was with. Had I been taught what polyamory is younger and had known that monogamy is not actually the only way you're allowed to be, i'd have probably been able to stop struggling with this much sooner. Do I think this was as big of a mental struggle as being gay or trans? Nah. But it was certainly an issue that ate away at me.
As much as polyamory was a choice, so was me being trans was a choice. I would say both are inherent to who I am. Just because something isn't inherent to your identity, doesn't mean it isn't inherent to mine.
The second paragraph is a gross misinterpretation of what was said. I said abused poly people in relationships they cannot escape will likely cheat when they do find love. The same is true for monogamous people who cannot escape relationships. This happens all the fucking time. To women. To gay people. To trans people. To poly people. This is so utterly common it's an overused trope in story telling.
"OBVIOUSLY abusive situations aside"
The post was about abusive situations. You're already throwing away the core concept to the post.
"why are you staying with someone you are completely incompatible with"
This shows how this person has no value for relationships. Just because you realize you're poly doesn't mean your feelings for an individual disappears. You want to see if this relationship can still work, whether monogamous or polyamorous. Not to mention so many people would find themselves homeless or penniless by just leaving. There's no actual understanding of love and relationships and the heart here.
"you don't need to pursue any kind of relationship ever"
And gay people don't have to be in gay relationships. Trans people don't have to transition. Doesn't change the longing to experience what you want to experience.
"where exclusivity is agreed upon"
I know poly people who entered relationships under the premise the other person was poly, just for that person to decide "actually I'm monogamous, and I'll kill myself if you leave me." You have no understanding or empathy.
"wanting to be poly does not excuse cheating what is wrong with you people"
Look I agree cheating sucks and violates trust, but acting like it's the worst thing in the history of ever is just childish. I get it hurts but at the end of the day, you do not own another person's body and sometimes shit happens. I just do not care what other people do with their own bodies and you cannot make me believe I'm supposed to care. If my husband goes and fucks someone without my permission (which he commonly does) then that's rad. I hope he has fun. If my wife goes and fucks someone I don't know (which she regularly does) then fuck yeah I hope they both had fun. Y'all are too fucking uptight.
Also the tags
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The "monogamous people are losers and shouldn't get a say in anything" was something I said in reply to a heckler on my 'monogamous people often abuse poly partners' post. To take it solely as 100% serious opinion is foolish and childish.
"I cheated cuz waaa"
I've never cheated on any partner. The post isn't even saying it's ok cheat, it's saying that poly people get branded as cheaters whether they do or don't. But I'll say it here just because it's so controversial that it pisses losers off: it's ok for polyamorous people to cheat on monogamous partners. Get out before they abuse you.
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accio-victuuri · 1 day ago
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read a book for me. 📚
inspired by people who were curious about the books featured in xz’s video, let’s take a look at what they are. i’d like to think these were pre approved by XZ and are related to his interests. i’m not removing tge possibility that one of these were chosen by someone from xzs or the director himself. i’m tagging this as cpn because there will be some cpn. if you don’t wanna go that route and just enjoy learning about the titles featured, then go ahead. 😉
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1. Restoration House by Kennesha Bucks
You don't have to live in your dream house to make your living spaces feel more like home. Home is meant to be a place to belong. A place to gather and connect. A place of beauty. A place to restore your soul. In Restoration House, author and designer Kennesha Buycks will encourage you to embrace your home and your story so you can create mindful spaces that give life to you, your loved ones, and all who enter.
2. LORI WILDE
that red book just says the author’s name and no actual title but if you look her up, she’s all about that romance novel. here is her website if you wanna know what i mean. if you move a bit, the spine of it says “boy” so i think it maybe one of those books that has the cowboys in it!
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3. Next is LIT UP, which is a black book. I’m not so sure if it’s a real book and when you search it, there are a couple of contenders. Tho i personally gravitate towards p2 since it’s black and the plot of the story is something i think XZ will enjoy!
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it says out of the cubicle and into the real world, it’s like him getting out of his work cubicle years ago and discovering the world.
book overview:
Eddy Gilmore found himself on society’s fringe after being exiled from Corporate America. Despite years of higher education and exemplary service inside a cubicle’s pixelated world, he had no tangible or transferable skills to offer his community. Amazingly, failure was the door into tapping dreams and gifts that had long been ignored as impractical.
This true to life adventure is a pilgrimage into the real world, a place where neighbors make and produce things that sustain life and bring joy. When their eyes were opened to the talents all around them, Eddy and his wife discovered how to produce value themselves, and sank roots into the community. By working together, they are building a life they might never need to retire from.
4. The Interior Design Handbook
Frida Ramstedt believes in thinking about how we decorate, rather than focusing on what we decorate with. We know more today than ever before about design trends, furniture, and knickknacks, and now Frida familiarizes readers with the basic principles behind interior and styling—what looks good and, most of all, why it looks good.
The Interior Design Handbook teaches you general rules of thumb—like what the golden ratio and the golden spiral are, the proper size for a coffee table in relation to your sofa, the optimal height to hang lighting fixtures, and the best ways to use a mood board—complete with helpful illustrations. Use The Interior Design Handbook to achieve a balanced, beautiful home no matter where you live or what your style is.
5. Limits of the Known
A celebrated mountaineer and author searches for meaning in great adventures and explorations, past and present.
David Roberts, "veteran mountain climber and chronicler of adventures" (Washington Post), has spent his career documenting voyages to the most extreme landscapes on earth. In Limits of the Known, he reflects on humanity’s—and his own—relationship to extreme risk. Part memoir and part history, this book tries to make sense of why so many have committed their lives to the desperate pursuit of adventure.
In the wake of his diagnosis with throat cancer, Roberts seeks answers with sharp new urgency. He explores his own lifelong commitment to adventuring, as well as the cultural contributions of explorers throughout history: What specific forms of courage and commitment did it take for Fridtjof Nansen to survive an eighteen-month journey from a record "farthest north" with no supplies and a single rifle during his polar expedition of 1893–96? What compelled Eric Shipton to return, five times, to the ridges of Mt. Everest, plotting the mountain’s most treacherous territory years before Hillary and Tenzing’s famous ascent? What drove Bill Stone to dive 3,000 feet underground into North America’s deepest cave?
What motivates the explorers we most admire, who are willing to embark on perilous journeys and push the limits of the human body? And what is the future of adventure in a world we have mapped and trodden from end to end?
6. Eat, Drink, Nap: Bringing the House Home
The quintessential style, cooking, and home interior book from Soho House, the world's leading members' club.
Since the first Soho House opened its doors over 25 years ago, we've learnt a bit about what works. Contemporary, global yet with something quintessentially English and homely at its heart, this is Soho House style explained by its experts:
- From planning a room to vintage finds: bringing the Soho House look home.
- Our House curator's advice on how to buy, collect and hang art.
- The art of a great night's sleep: how to design the perfect bedroom.
- No-fuss recipes and chef's tips: here's how to make your favourite House dishes.
- Inside Babington: our take on country-house living. Wellies optional.
- Flip-flop glamour and poolside style from Soho House Miami Beach.
- All the secrets of cocktail hour: House tonics and barman's tips.
- Spa treatment at home, DIY facials and chocolate brownies.
Eat Drink Nap, a 300-page highly illustrated book, with a foreword from founder Nick Jones, and photography from leading food and interiors photographers Mark Seelen and Jean Cazals, shares the Soho House blueprint for stylish, modern living, the Soho House way.
7. Styled
It’s easy to find your own style confidence once you know this secret: While decorating can take months and tons of money, styling often takes just minutes. Even a few little tweaks can transform the way your room feels.
At the heart of Styled are Emily Henderson’s ten easy steps to styling any space. From editing out what you don’t love to repurposing what you can’t live without to arranging the most eye-catching vignettes on any surface, you’ll learn how to make your own style magic.
With Emily’s style diagnostic, insider tips, and more than 1,000 unique ideas from 75 envy-inducing rooms, you’ll soon be styling like you were born to do it.
8. The other book i’m seeing is WINTER TID then it cuts off so again it’s tricky to confirm what it is! My best guess is WINTER TIDE but if you google that — i can’t connect how XZ will read that lol.
EDIT: adding this one seen from the alternate MV,
The Tale of the Body Thief by Anne Rice
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is a vampire novel by American writer Anne Rice, the fourth in her The Vampire Chronicles series, following The Queen of the Damned (1988). Published in 1992, it continues the adventures of Lestat, specifically his efforts to regain his lost humanity during the late 20th century.
=========
now let’s look at the CPN.
i see fans saying the style related books could be because of his work before. but he is more of a digital and design artist right? he does logos and stuff that can help their brand identity. i don’t remember him being an interior designer. there is also the eat, drink, nap which has topics on cooking and being a good host. these books are making me clown so hard! my head canon is xz is keeping himself busy ( as if he is not busy enough already ) with designing their home. his and wyb’s — if that wasn’t clear enough, that’s what i’m insinuating. if he isn’t traveling, i would imagine he is the type who just wants to spend time at home in between jobs. it is their home. their sanctuary. so xz would make sure that it is according to what they both want and that it’s stylish.
and when he is at home sipping wine, while waiting for Bobo, is he reading a LORI WILDE BOOK? lol. sexy millionaire cowboy you say? 👀👀👀👀
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😂😂😂😂😂
or reading something like the LIT UP book which is more up his alley ( but again i’m not sure if this is the exact title )
what is out of place is limits of the known. out of place compared to the theme of the other books, but xz is someone who is into nature and climbing of sorts. but i haven’t seen him climb the way yibo did in ETU. the most popular cpn is that this is yibo’s contribution to the selection. or maybe he read it after yibo and liked it. OR he is also becoming interested in rock climbing — which is not a far off possibility.
-END.
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steddieunderdogfics · 2 days ago
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This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @cuips-not-cute! cuips_not_cute has six fics in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and all of them are in the Steddie tag!
Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @cuips-not-cute:
he could be brave
blood is an aphrodisiac
honeyed affection
blinking red light
cyclical
"cuips is a master of taking the reader on an emotional roller coaster ride. The amount of times I've laughed and cried at the same time reading his fics have been too numerous to count. Especially the depth of the sex scenes and the character beats and growth they portray are gorgeous to read - and also very titillating. I love Steve and Eddie in every one of cuips stories, adore the little mannerisms they are given and the way they interact with each other and other characters. Besides the inspiring prose cuips can pull off a plot like few other people I've found so far - since blinking red light is still ongoing, I'll just point to cyclical for that. I'm very thankful to cuips for writing and posting these stories and for being a very active part of this lovely fandom." -- anonymous
Below the cut, @cuips-not-cute answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
i don’t even know. i was happily in the ofmd fandom when i watched season 4 almost three years ago now (oh god) and then the characters… they got me. i fear they’ll never leave.
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
god, so many. they’re all kinda the same flavor though so i’ll list out what i’m always filtering for to find a new fic: bottom/sub eddie, creature/monster eddie, post s4, canon compliant, soft dom steve, sex pollen, spit kink, rimming (perhaps my FAVORITE ever thing to read), switch eddie/switch steve… the list goes on.
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
probably also rimming. there’s just something so romantic about eating ass. and i really love to stick with post s4 canon compliant aus, too, i don’t think i’ve written an actual for real au yet, though i do have an idea for one after brl.
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
i don’t know if i can pick!! my ao3 bookmarks host my many all-time faves, but if you wanna go by the fic i’ve reread the most it’s probably the affliction of the feeling. it’s so fucking good.
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
YES!!! i have never written omegaverse!!! which is crazy, ‘cause i like it a LOT. i have a post-s4 omegaverse au kicking around in my head currently, and i cannot wait to sink my teeth into all the messy biology and politics that come with the omegaverse.
What is your writing process like?
chaotic, in a word. usually, i’ll get a fic idea while i’m balls-deep in writing another fic so i’ll shove it to the side and let it simmer while i finish that first one, then i’ll spend a good long while planning it out in ridiculous detail, and THEN i’ll start actually drafting. i like to have a fully fleshed out outline and a couple chapters written and edited before i start posting, and once posting begins i tend to deviate quite a bit from my outline but it’s all good fun.
Do you have any writing quirks?
definitely. i don’t like pointing them out for fear of other folks seeing them in everything i do, but they’re there. one that i don’t mind so much is my absolute abuse of the word “little.” everything is “a little” of this, “a little” of that, but i try to cut my usage down significantly while i’m editing.
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
i always TRY to keep a schedule but… yeah. it never works. i’m far too busy for one, but attempts are made. i’d like to one day write a fic in full before posting it, because i think it’d be a whole lot better if i let it sit for that long but lord, i sure do like getting ao3 comments on every chapter. they make the writing motivation go WAY up.
Which fic are you most proud of?
brl, definitely. that fucker is LONG and i’m barely halfway through it. i think i’ve done a lot of cool things with it and i’m going to do some more cool things and i’ve made a lot of really awesome friends in the process of writing it so it’s got some pretty insane sentimental value to me. it���s definitely going to be a fic i’ll miss writing once i finish it, but that’s what the epilogue series is for!!!
How did you get the idea for blinking red light?
from another fic!!! @racketghost is the author of one of my favorite things i’ve ever read, which is the good omens zach and miri au, closed set (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320960/chapters/55862155 <- hyperlinked), wherein crowley has been lying about the existence of some angelic sex tapes to all of hell, and then he and aziraphale have to actually make the tapes. it’s awesome. it’s gorgeous. brl is one big giant love letter to this fic, because it means so fucking much to me and i think about it ALL the time. 
When writing honeyed affection, what was something you didn’t expect?
hmm, i don’t know? ha is, i think, a pretty easygoing fic with lots and lots of porn stuffed inside it, and that was all i intended it to be so i cannot think of anything i was surprised by!!
What inspired blood is an aphrodisiac?
i just wanted to write vampire eddie. it was july ‘22, kas theories were everywhere, i had to try it. these days i think i would change a LOT about it because my ideas and hcs surrounding the characters have evolved significantly, but i’ll write vampire eddie again and “fix” everything i no longer like about biaa.
What was your favorite part to write from he could be brave?
…the fisting. i genuinely think some of my best writing is in that scene, and while i feel the same way about this fic as i do biaa, the fisting scene will always hold a special place in my heart. i’m very, very excited to write the fisting chapter in brl because of this scene. fisting rules.
How do/did you feel writing cyclical?
i wrote cyclical during a very weird few months of my life, so writing it was sort of my way of dealing with all the insane shit going on around me, and i think it shows. in a good way, though, because cyclical is a timeloop fic so it needed to be a little angsty and insane. i’m stupidly proud of that fic. @ryeallytired actually BOUND it into a PHYSICAL BOOK and SENT IT TO ME and when i tell you that is the singular most precious object i own, i mean it.
What was the most difficult part of writing blinking red light?
PLOTTING THAT BITCH. GOD. i’m so happy to be actually WRITING it now, the planning was genuinely so brutal. my issue was that i was sticking too close to the plot of closed set (<3) which just… did not work for steddie. closed set’s premise centers around crowley lying about making sex tapes, yes, but he lied about them to PROTECT aziraphale, which is the messiest, kindest, riskiest fucking thing ever. and it’s awesome. in the early planning stages of brl, i was trying to put eddie in the crowley role of lying about having made sex tapes with steve, but it reallyyy didn’t work. there was an oc and i absolutely hated him, plus i didn’t like what that premise was doing to eddie’s character… ugh. it was a MESS. it took several rubber duck-ing conversations with my brilliant friend @lollaika and a rewatch of zach and miri to finally realize that it had to be STEVE who brings up the idea of sex tapes so that he could protect eddie, rather than eddie bringing it up to save his own hide (yikes).
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
oooh, lots. reallyyyy loved chapter 8 of cyclical with all of the pov shifts, that was super fun to write. i also really enjoyed writing the dry humping/sex tape convo in the first chapter of brl, and i’m stupidly excited to write chapters 12, 13, 15, and 17, because of specific scenes that will happen in each.
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
i do!! after brl is completed i’ll have to choose from two story ideas (because i cannot have two wips at once or i’ll get SO stressed), one being a semi-realistic steddie cowboy au based off my own experiences with growing up on a farm and featuring messy, earnest cowboys and not-fully-human eddie, and the other being the omegaverse au i want to write, which will have a very fun mix of vampire eddie, dubcon bitching, and accidental mating bites!!!
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
i cannot think of anything!! this was super fun :D
Thank you to our author, @cuips-not-cute, and our anonymous nominator! See more of cuips_not_cute's works featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
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oh-no-another-idea · 3 days ago
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OC Questionnaire
Thanks for this one, @leahnardo-da-veggie! We'll answer for Paris and Antonio today :D
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If you could wish for one thing, what would it be?
Antonio: "Oh, I dunno. All my friends camping out in my huge house and myself cooking them dinner every night." Paris: "...For my mother to be comfortable enough to stop working herself to the bone."
What is your most treasured possession?
Antonio: "Eh. Possessions come and go. I guess my shoulder holster, because it's fitted to me, but I'm sure I could simply find another." Paris: "My violin."
Do you think you could win in a fight against your nemesis?
Antonio: "I have so many enemies...if I've learned anything recently it's that I need a little help. With my friends? Of course, we could." Paris: "My nemesis is cold weather and less work and cracked palms and hungry nights. I lose the battle every day."
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Did NOT intend to answer the last one for Paris that way, but he seized ahold of me and wouldn't be silenced. So. Okay, edgelord. 🙄
I'll pass on the tag to @indecentpause @asher-writes @tragicheirs @sleepyowlwrites @writernopal and anyone else who sees this and wants to answer these new questions!
What does tomorrow look like?
Favorite color, and why?
Whom do you love the most?
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starly-amazing · 1 day ago
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In Baths and Salts: Stinkfrin Gets Cleansed
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Rating: Teen
Summary: Siffrin is a stinky fella after the loops. Isabeau and Mirabelle take it upon themselves to give them a nice relaxing bath and some much-needed pampering. Emotions and minimal crying are to be expected. Happy 1st Anniversary ISAT!
Tags: Bathing/Washing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Queerplatonic Relationships, Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst
archiveofourown org/works/60726061
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"Siffrin, you smell terrible." Odile sighs as soon as the party makes it back inside the clock tower. The festivities outside were set to go on well into the night, but none of the Saviors had any desire to mingle—or be showered in praise, food, gifts, or marriage proposals.
Isabeau gasps as if personally insulted. "M’dame!? That’s so blunt!" He grips Siffrin tighter as he helps them to the dining table.
They flop over in their chair and let out a harsh wheeze. They don't even try to argue.
She lowers her glasses and raises an eyebrow. "So we’re in agreement, then?" Her arms fold over her chest.
"Well... " He rubs his shoulder. He sniffs his shirt where Siffrin had been leaning and makes a face.
“I’m in an an-greement!” Bonnie yells and fans the air in front of their face. “Belle too!”
“What!?” Mirabelle sputters in the middle of wiping a spot of Siffrin’s blood off her dress. “Bonnie, why are you bringing me into this?”
"Bath sounds nice," Siffrin mumbles into their cloak. The clock tower surprisingly had a full washroom with plumbing. They couldn't imagine why, but they're not about to complain. The bathtub, complete with a crafted heating element, had tempted them so many times during the loops, but they could never justify using it.
But now... 
They're still not sure they can justify it but maybe they should just say ‘blind it all’ and do it anyway.
“Yes, see? Siffrin didn’t need any convincing!”
Though, it seems like their family isn’t going to give them much choice either way.
Odile smirks and tilts her head at Mirabelle.
“Don’t say it!”
“Hey, hey, don’t bully poor Sif! What they need right now is some nice gentle reassurance!”
“And a bath!” Bonnie adds. They start putting away the plates of food that grateful villagers and Housemaidens managed to laden them all with.
“Yep,” Siffrin mumbles, too tired to be phased.
"I'll get it ready!" Isabeau chirps and heads to the washroom.
Odile doesn't even try to hide The Smirk.
Siffrin puts his head down and closes his eye. He breathes deeply a few times and lets the sounds of his family wash over him. Odile is scribbling more in her notebook. Bonnie is messing with the food and gifts. Mirabelle is rummaging through her bags.
"How are you feeling now, Siffrin?" Mirabelle asks after a few moments.
"Gross." They rub at a bloodstain on their cloak.
"Good thing that's going to be remedied soon," Odile hums. She scribbles something down in her notebook. “Teasing aside, is there anything you need—or want us to do for you now? It doesn’t have to be big if you’re not yet comfortable asking, just something that might help you feel more at ease.”
Siffrin eyes the bottle of gifted wine by the sink.
Odile follows their gaze and shakes her head. “Anything but that. We’re not going to let you pick up any new self-destructive habits.”
Siffrin grunts. “Water then, please.”
“I got it!” Bonnie races to the sink and fills a glass in record time. They rush back to Siffrin and nearly spill it onto them.
“A good snack duty-er also includes hydreeshon!”
“Hydration, Boniface.”
“That’s what I said!”
Siffrin cracks a small smile and takes a sip. The cool water is a shock to his parched throat but after the initial tingle fades he downs the rest in a few gulps.
“Wow! Super fast!” Bonnie grabs the cup and runs back to the sink. “Want more?”
Isabeau calls out from the bathroom. “Okay, I think it’s about ready!”
“I’m fine, thank you Bonbon!” They move to get up but their body protests. They flop back down and lay their face on the table again. “Urgh.”
“Whoa, Frin. Do you need help getting to the bathroom?”
“No, no I’m fine I—” They try to push themself up but fail. “Okay maybe yes please.”
It takes both Bonnie’s and Mirabelle’s help to get Siffrin to their feet but once they’re standing they’re able to blink some of the exhaustion back. Still, the two each take one of his arms and help him maneuver to the bathroom. Odile follows close behind, hands at the ready in case his legs decide to give out on him.
The bathroom isn't anything spectacular. Just plain stone floors and walls with some generic concentric circles etched in to break up the monotony. It has nothing in the way of storage; the party all had to drag in some barrels to hold their supplies. It’s a miracle it even had a toilet and bathtub with working plumbing.
At least they can expect hot water. Despite the fever that still makes them sweat, they want nothing more than to get their sore, cosmically stretched, and clone-attacked muscles soaked to the bone.
Loop.
They touch their neck and hope it hasn’t bruised visibly yet.
They'll be back. They have to come back. They just need rest, too.
"Everything okay, Siffrin?” Isabeau hums nervously. “I mean, well, relatively speaking"
"Yeah," they nod and take a step forward. "Just... crowded."
"Come on Boniface." Odile picks them up by the armpits with little effort. "There are some things you are not meant to see here."
Peak physical condition is right.
"Aww come on, let me help, I won't look!" They wave their arms with one hand still gripping Siffrin's. The tug hurts a bit but it's too cute to pull away.
"You can help by fixing up all the food everyone gave us and some more things our little problem child hasn't eaten in a long time."
"Oh! Oh, you're right!" Bonnie wiggles their legs until Odile puts them down. They run out of the bathroom, almost tripping on themself. She chuckles at them, her hand on her hip.
"I suppose I'll go help. You two probably can handle it on your own and my knees will not allow me to do any of this."
Mirabelle and Isabeau both nod as Odile turns away.
"Wait, handle what?" Isabeau tilts his head.
"Giving said problem child a bath,” she says over her shoulder.
"Oh!" He gasps.
‘ Oh’ is right! Siffrin feels their arm hair stand on end.
“Uhm, I think I can handle it on my own.”
But do I want to?
She turns to meet his gaze. "Siffrin. You needed all three of us to help you walk twenty feet to the bathroom. We wouldn't want you falling asleep and drowning. Unless that's something you want to risk, I believe that supervision is warranted."
“Ah, right. That’s a... that’s a good point!” Siffrin stammers and both Isabeau and Mirabelle nod rapidly.
"Good, now have fun." With that, she shuts the door and leaves the three of them alone.
"Well, uhm. So," Isabeau begins. His face is already a shade darker. "So how do you want to do this? I mean we can just, you know, hang out without looking while you clean yourself, and just—then we just make sure you're okay or something!”
"Can I wash your hair, Siffrin?" Mirabelle eyes the rat's nest that’s grown atop their head.
Wash my hair?
They run their hands through the tangled mess until their fingers get stuck in the greasy locks. She’d have her work cut out for her... he’s not sure he can accept the favor so soon.
But, ohh they need it. They need the feeling of Mirabelle's fingers combing through their hair and massaging their scalp. He thinks of how her nails will feel digging deep into their skin. They imagine her reaching through their skull and ripping out every bad thought and memory straight from their mind. It sends a small shiver down their spine. It's all too much for Siffrin to process. They shrink down in their cloak and turn away.
"It's okay if you don't! We'll just be here for moral support!" Mirabelle waves her hands and Isabeau nods.
"I... uh... washing... washing my hair sounds... nice," they manage to force out.
"Ohh!" Mirabelle clasps her hands together and does a little skip in place. Her dress flutters and part of it sticks to the rim of the tub. "Oh, maybe I should change into something else."
"Oh, me too!" Isabeau nods and then turns to leave but stops. "Actually." He removes his sash and outer shirt then gives his undershirt a good tug. "This should be good."
Siffrin takes off his own cloak and reaches for his shirt... 
Oh.
He looks at the lightless fabric of his sleeves—at how some spots stain just a bit darker than the rest. The little gaps in the fabric where light shows through shift slightly with each breath.
Oh no.
He didn't tell Mirabelle about that when she healed them. Nobody has seen.
What do they do? They can't stand the thought of being alone. Not now. Maybe he should have them look the other way the whole time, after all.
But... They promised to be honest now. Though, if they didn't ask, is it really dishonest? He clenches his jaw. It is, he's still hiding something from them.
... They can’t really expect him to be able to open up about everything right away, right?
Still... 
They squeeze their eye shut.
“Sif?”
"Siffrin, what's wrong?"
Breathe. In, and out.
They turn their back to them and grab the base of their shirt.
In, and out.
"Please don't freak out."
Deep breath.
They pull their shirt over their head to reveal the mottling of fresh cuts up and down their arms.
Silence.
Dead silence.
He bites his lip hard enough to hurt. He swears he can almost, almost taste blood.
Each second of nothing wears on Siffrin and they fight the urge to cover back up. The distant sounds of Bonnie rummaging around in the kitchen grate in their ears.
"Let me heal you, Siffrin," Mirabelle breathes.
They nod and slowly hold out one arm behind them. She gently takes their fingers in her hand and places her palm on the back of his. She whispers a few things under her breath and starts moving her hand up their arm. The soreness dissipates in little ripples out from her fingertips.
Isabeau shifts behind them and starts swirling his hand in the bath.
"The water should be good," he murmurs.
Siffrin flexes their arm in front of them as Mira begins on their other one.
Scarred. Of course. Most have faded but the deeper, star-shaped ones remain. They no longer hurt, at least, just a dull ache if they move too much. That could also just be everything else wrong with them.
"I'm sorry, Siffrin," Mirabelle murmurs when she sees them scrutinize one of the larger scars. "I—I couldn’t prevent them from scarring. I just don’t have the Craft energy."
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, they're all probably beyond exhausted from dealing with your tantrum.
Why didn't you even consider that until now? Even Bonnie is probably tired from everything and now they're out preparing you a full-course meal.
Siffrin pulls away and holds their half-healed arm to their chest, out of reach.
"I'm—"
"No, Siffrin, it's okay." Mirabelle reaches for them but they turn further away. “I’m happy to finish healing you, really.”
“You’ve already done so much.”
“And I’m willing to do more.” She takes a step closer. “You’d do the same for me if our positions were switched, right?”
“Of course I would!” He whirls around. They squint as their head spins a bit. “You are all..." he pauses, voice lowering. “So important to me.”
Isabeau pulls up two stools to the tub. “And you’re so so important to us too.” He frowns slightly as Siffrin shrinks into themself more. “We choose to do this Sif. We want you to be safe, healthy, and happy and we’re all willing to push ourselves like this to make sure of it.”
“But..." Their voice trails off.
“Siffrin, I promise I’m not putting myself in any danger doing this. It’s just tiring and nothing a few good night’s sleep won't fix.”
“I guess..."
Mirabelle gives Siffrin a tired smile. She reaches for their face.
A stinging memory flashes through their mind and they flinch. They recoil. Their hand flies part way to their cheek but they freeze.
He blinks, blinks, blinks away the memory. He sees Mirabelle standing there with her hands clasped at her chest. Her body is stiff—as if she's frozen in time—but her rapid breathing betrays that.
"Siffrin, I'm... " She worries her lip and picks at her fingertips. "I'm so sorry. I—I shouldn’t have... I know I was angry at those awful things you said but I still shouldn’t have slapped you."
"Of course you should have!" They dig their nails into their arms, threatening to undo everything Mirabelle just healed. "I said all those... cruel, horrible, untrue things when you were stressing out so much about everything! You had the weight of all of Vaugarde on your shoulders! And then your—” they stop themself. “The papers... Why wouldn't you slap me?"
Her face pulls into a grimace. "I still should have kept trying to figure out what was wrong! You're right, I was so stressed and anxious about everything..." She takes a shuddering breath and squeezes her eyes shut. “And it really did hurt... what you said... But I... I just assumed the worst of you... that you never really cared about me... when I knew that wasn’t true. I should have known it wasn’t that... " Her voice quiets to a whisper. “I shouldn’t have given up on you.”
"But... how were you even supposed to guess what was happening?"
Isabeau chimes in. "Well, we wouldn't have figured out the specifics but it was obvious there was something ."
Their shoulders fall. "And I... still wouldn't have said anything.”
Silence.
Wrong response, stupid, stupid, stupid.
"You should have slapped me too, Isa. How were you so calm?"
Worse response! Stop it!
"Sif, I would never hurt you. I couldn’t.”
Mirabelle’s jaw clenches and her face pulls tight.
Isabeau jumps slightly and holds his hands up. “Ah—sorry Mira, I didn’t mean to imply anything! It’s just... you know, defender training and just... my own..." He brings a hand to his chest. “Er—yeah, I’m not judging you or anything for your reaction! Anyway, Sif!” He lets his hand fall to his side and meets their gaze. They have to fight not to look away.
“We all made mistakes yesterday... and we’re all willing to go to great lengths to help you and each other, even if we’re tired. Even if we’re angry.”
Siffrin can't keep his gaze.
Isabeau hums for a moment and then lights up with a small gasp. "Okay, give me your hand."
He hesitates.
Isabeau holds his hand out, palm up. It glistens a bit in the candlelight—from sweat or bath water, Siffrin isn't sure.
Slowly, carefully, they place their closed hand in Isabeau's. He lifts his other hand slowly enough that it doesn't startle them and then very lightly smacks his fingers against their knuckles.
"Whap! There's your slap."
Despite themself, they couldn't hold back a snort.
"Ohhh, the pain~" they whine in a weak, almost ghost-like manner.
Isabeau releases his grip and Siffrin shivers at the sudden coolness.
"Oh, uh, you should probably get in the bath before it gets cold too, huh?"
"Ah, right, yeah." They gaze at the inviting water. They realize their legs are shaking more. "Can you... look the other way for a minute."
Isabeau spins around and Mirabelle covers her eyes.
Siffrin fumbles with their belt—their grip is weaker and stiffer than before. Was it the scarring? Or just exhaustion? They didn't have the energy to think too hard about it. The bath was calling to them.
He slips out of his pants and kicks them to the corner. They approach the tub and tentatively stick in their toe.
Warm. A bit too warm.
They could use all the warmth they can get.
They step inside and settle in quickly. The water burns at every little cut Mirabelle didn’t manage to heal. He grits his teeth and just waits for it to ease up.
They wish for would like a bubble bath so they could hide under a foot of suds, but the bare-bones bathroom doesn't afford such luxuries. Still, they splash a bit of soap in to create a facsimile of a foam shield and cover up their unmentionables with a washcloth.
"Okay," they breathe.
Mirabelle drops her hands and Isabeau waits another second before turning around. Siffrin holds their arms against their chest. There's not much to hide, but still.
The two of them settle down on small stools next to him.
Silence.
Siffrin pokes at a small bruise on their knee.
"Uhm, Siffrin?"
He glances at Mirabelle and tilts his head.
"Are you ready for me to wash your hair?"
Their eye widens and flashes of the past flick through their mind. Her gentle hands worked through his hair as she brushed it, picking out dirt and pulling out tangles. It was so nice they couldn't bring themself to accept any other time she offered.
But now... 
" Please ."
Mirabelle perks up with a smile and grabs two shampoo bottles from atop a barrel.
"Okay, so we have a lavender scent here. It's good for calming you down and helps with sleep." She holds up the other one. "And here we have pineapple sc—"
"LAVENDER!" Siffrin yelps, causing Mirabelle and Isabeau to jump.
"Okay, okay! Lavender it is!" She puts the other bottle far away from Siffrin. “I didn’t think you had such strong feelings for some foods!” She pours a generous amount of the other onto Siffrin's head until a drop of it splatters on his shoulder. Siffrin clenches his jaw and decides against letting that bit of information out for now.
Mirabelle rubs her hands together and gets to work.
Almost immediately he lets out a sigh as her nails rake across his scalp. His eye rolls back into his head and he sinks deeper into the water.
They're floating, becoming one with the Universe. Their pain fades into dull static as their mind focuses solely on their head.
It's heavenly.
"Uh, Sif," Isabeau's voice is soft.
"Mmm?" they hum.
"Anything I can help with?"
Siffrin cracks his eye open at Isabeau. He's sitting with his head turned to the ceiling and scratching at his chin.
"Oh, uh... " They pause and think. It'd be too cramped to ask him to wash anything else while Mirabelle is still working, but his touch is just so inviting all the same.
They mull it over for a moment. They look at their hand, flex their stiff fingers, and reach out.
"Can you... hold my hand?"
Isabeau gasps. "Of course!" He wipes his hands on his pants and takes Siffrin's between them.
It's nice.
They smile and let out a long sigh. He closes his eye and feels the weightlessness of his body. The way Isabeau’s hand molds around his. The way Mirabelle oh so gently tugs at the many tangles in their hair.
How it feels like... 
His mind wanders.
A tear floats gently in front of him. He’s in the house again.
Ugh. He squeezes his eye shut. Now’s not the time for those thoughts.
It’s completely different, anyway. Tears were always so cold and touching them felt more like missing a stair step and falling forever... and the dreams... the dreams were always so weird.
But now! Now he’s warm and feels like he’s being lifted up, up! And no dreaming! Just perfectly controllable awake thoughts.
... 
He’s in the house again.
Their family is there. Talking about something he can’t quite process. The images and sounds are warped and garbled. They can barely make out Bonnie making snacks in the corner.
Their family goes quiet. Everyone looks over at Bonnie.
They aren’t cooking.
Nope! Not that memory!
They shift in the tub and try to force a different thought, hoping nobody notices their discomfort.
Mirabelle continues scrubbing. Isabeau gives their hand another squeeze.
They are in a hallway now. Things look even more warped and broken; the pillars are sinking through the floor, a haze of static obscures almost everything, and the walls seem to be melting. He can still make out his family standing a few paces ahead, surrounding... him?
They’re smiling at him, and then their expressions fall. “He” vanishes.
No, not that one either.
He’s in front of Isabeau by the tree. They reach out and grab his shirt--
No no no!
They pull into themself and furiously wipe their mouth.
“Sif? What’s wrong?” Isabeau puts his other hand on him. Mirabelle stops and places her hands on their shoulders.
“S-sorry, I just..." He doesn’t want to get into it.
Just be vague. Honest, but vague.
“Just thinking about the loops again.”
They both give him little squeezes.
“It’s okay, Siffrin. We’re here.”
“You’re safe,” Isabeau adds, “it’s over, I promise.”
“Yeah,” they swallow a knot in their throat, “yeah it’s over.” He forces himself to relax and give them a reassuring smile. They close their eye again and wait for Mirabelle to continue scrubbing their hair.
But the memories aren’t over--they won’t ever go away, will they?
They’ve forgotten their own family member’s names. They’ve forgotten their home, their language, their past, and whole chunks of their journey before the loops began.
But the loops themselves are so etched into their mind... 
No. No. It’s too early to even think about that. They’ll fade. They won’t keep popping up every time they have a moment of rest. Maybe they’ll even be able to start remembering things from before the loops! It’s just going to be a recovery process.
A long, long recovery process.
It’s fine though! They have their family! They promised they’d be there for him. As long as he can make himself talk about his feelings sometimes, it’ll all work out fine!
They smile and sigh.
Just happy thoughts for now. Focus on Isabeau’s and Mirabelle’s hands. Think about her brushing your hair or Isabeau holding your hands on the rooftop. Think about Odile ruffling your hair or Bonnie’s hug.
His mind starts to drift again.
In the echo of a memory, the Head Housemaiden is crying. Their family calls out to them from the distance. They race to him and he reaches out. He can barely make out anything through the static but their calling his name is unmistakable.
The scene cracks, and breaks, and he’s back in Dormont. Mirabelle screams. Bonnie cries. Odile grips his cloak. And Isabeau... 
Siffrin’s face pulls into a grimace and he shifts in the tub.
They were loved.
They were loved, they were so loved, and yet, they ruined it.
Isabeau locks their fingers together. “We’re here, Sif.”
Mirabelle holds his head in her hands. “Siffrin, you can talk to us about what you’re thinking about if you want.” Her voice is so soft, so gentle. “But... if you can’t right now you can tell us that too... We can just talk about something light instead... to keep your mind off things.”
‘ So you should just accept it! Accept that you'll always be alone!’
They dig their heels into the bottom of the tub.
“I just—” he chokes.
They say they forgive you, but... 
“Sif.” Isabeau pulls their hand closer.
‘ I know what kind of person you are, now. A Coward, Isa. Never able to say what you mean, never able to do what you want.’
You can’t take it back. Can’t undo it all.
“I—” His breathing quickens. Their chest starts to burn. He tries to speak again but only choked sounds come out.
‘ Deep down, you know you can't escape yourself.’
They won’t forget what you said.
A tear runs down their face. It joins the many drops of water clinging to their neck.
‘ Just leave me behind! Just like you left Ka Bue behind!!! Just like your mom lef̵͉͘ţ̷̟̪̀̒͗́͠ ̵̠̩͕̘̫̈͗̌̊y̷̧̡̼͕̮͆̔̆̀̔o̷̝̓̑̍̚͘ŭ̴̘͇̮̄͜ ̷̻̮͔̖̬̇͌̐̒b̵͔͇̤̽̾̽̕͘͠e̶̘̮̦̬͍̿̒ḣ̶̛̝̤̑̈̎̎i̷̪̮͝ň̷͖̣̱̽d̸͙̿̈́́̊̏̿̚!̶͔̻͇̥͎̒͊̅͘’
They’ll live with your words wearing on them forever.
“Siffrin, it’s okay, you don’t have to say it right away.”
They whine and begin to pull away. Their chest is heaving. The room is starting to spin. Stop it. Stop it. Stay in the moment.
“Sif. Breathe with me,” Isabeau’s demand is gentle yet it’s enough to pull their attention to him.
They see him through the tears. He has his hand on his chest. He breathes deeply.
Their head hurts and their hands are shaking and their heart is beating like it's about to explode, so they probably should.
In, and out.
Siffrin tries to copy. He only manages a few shallow gasps at first.
Isabeau doesn’t stop though. He keeps breathing. In and out. He squeezes Siffrin’s hand with each breath.
In. Siffrin closes his eye and inhales. It’s smoother now. He can hear Mirabelle joining in.
Out. He squeezes Isabeau’s hand back.
In. The burning starts to fade.
Out. They can focus on their surroundings more. On the tug of Mirabelle’s fingers in their hair. On the gentle tremble of Isabeau’s hand. On the sounds of their unified breathing.
The echo of their cruel words gets fainter each time, but still crowd the margins of their consciousness.
One more breath.
They slowly open their eye. Isabeau is smiling gently at him.
“Mmmsorry,” Siffrin mumbles.
“It’s okay,” Isabeau assures and Mirabelle hums in agreement.
“I just—” Not again. The tension begins to creep back.
Just say it. It’s no worse than what you’ve already talked about.
"Why'd it... why’d it have to be this time?" they mumble.
"What do you mean?" Isabeau tilts his head.
Another deep breath. "Why'd this loop have to be the one we broke out of? Why this, and not one where I did everything right and you all..." He kicks at the side of the tub, “loved me?"
Isabeau winces. "We do love you now, Sif." They can feel the pain in his voice.
"But I hurt you all so much!”
“Not enough to stop us from loving you.” He squeezes their hand. “Not even close.”
Siffrin’s throat tightens. He paws at the water and watches the bubbles swirl around.
Mirabelle pulls at their hair. "Siffrin, everyone has bad days. People say cruel things they don't really mean to their friends."
Isabeau nods. "Yeah, you just happened to have a really, really long string of really, really bad days. So you only snapping at us now is pretty... urhm... impressive."
Siffrin pops a bubble.
"We really mean it when we say we forgive you, Siffrin." She gives their hair another gentle tug. "And we'll keep reminding you every time we need to."
"But... " They sink against the side. "You said you'll have time to be mad later. So how are you forgiving me so soon?"
Siffrin could sense Mirabelle frowning. "I can forgive you even if I'm still mad! O-or hurt! Just like I can be mad at you and still love you!"
Isabeau nods. "People are just full of conflicting emotions, and it's pretty normal to feel ones that are at odds." He rubs a thumb over Siffrin's scarred knuckles.
"I guess." They pick at a small scab on their forearm until Isabeau puts his other hand over it.
He leans closer. "The important thing is that you're doing what you can to fix it and keep it from happening again."
"What if it does happen again?" They mumble and sink a little further.
"You try harder next time.” He slides his hand up their arm. “And keep trying."
Siffrin mumbles under their breath. "How many times can I mess up before you all hate me?"
Isabeau squeezes their hand. "There's nothing you will do that'll make us hate you. Maybe get mad, or upset—"
"Or worried!" Mira added, picking at her nails.
"Or worried. But we could never hate you. Never. I promise!"
"Siffrin, you know you're such a genuinely good friend, right? We trust that you'll never try to hurt us on purpose. And... we... " She twists a lock of Siffrin's hair around her finger. "You have to trust us to all work things out together if you make a mistake!"
"Yeah!" Isabeau smiles. "You have to trust us too, Sif."
"I do!" Siffrin bolts upright, splashing water over the two of them. "Sorry!"
"Sif! It's okay, it's just water."
Siffrin whines.
Mirabelle pulls his hair and makes them lean back against the tub. They groan softly and move to cover their mouth, but they stop halfway. No point.
"Hehe! Now that we know you like touch, we're gonna make you relax and be nice to yourself! Oh, I mean if that's okay with you! I mean if that's too much it's fine, but we want you to be happy!"
"You make cute noises, Sif," Isabeau blurts out.
"What?"
"What!? Sorry, that just came out!" He covers his mouth. "Mira is right! We're gonna make you care for yourself and be nice and stuff! But only in ways you're comfortable with of course!" His grip tightens and he scratches the back of his head.
The way his cheeks darken and eyes dart around the room is... 
Cute.
"I'm happy to uh... " They sink until their mouth is just above the water. Their knees come up and they pull them closer. "Make more cute noises later, maybe. If it means you'll uh... play with my hair... too."
Isabeau's body jolts and he nearly crushes Siffrin's hand. Mirabelle bites her lip to (poorly) hold back a long 'awwwww'.
"Hahhaha! Yeah, that sounds great! I'll give you a full body massage and everything, I mean if that's what you're okay with obviously I know I've said it before but I just want to make sure you know I'm not gonna do anything too soon or make you uncomfortable I know you said you'll think about it and stuff so it can be a totally platonic massage or none at all but I just want you to know I'm here to make you feel better in whatever way I can!" When he stops he has to catch his breath.
Siffrin holds back a laugh. Isabeau's grip is still rock solid and their hand is beginning to hurt. "Isa," He tries to flex his fingers.
"Oh, oh Sif I'm sorry!" he cries, releasing his grip. Siffrin turns their hand around and makes a fist a few times. The pain fades quickly and they re-link their hand with his.
Isabeau coughs out a laugh. "S-see!? See this is what I mean where you can feel many emotions. Your hand can hurt from my sweaty rock grip but you still love me!" His eyes widen. "R-right?"
Siffrin bites back a snort. Isabeau tugs at his hair. "No, of course not," they say, sticking their tongue out. "Hand hurty is my limit!"
"Nooooooooooooo!" Isabeau cries out and leans back to press the back of his hand to his forehead. "Not the—ACK" The small stool slips out from under him and he goes crashing to the floor, dragging Siffrin out with him. They land hard on top of him and they both wheeze. Soap-suds splatter across Isabeau's face.
Mirabelle jumps up, nearly toppling over as well but only manages to grab the towel bar at the last second.
"Owwie," Siffrin grunts.
"Sif holy crab! I didn't mean to do that I'm so sorry!" Isabeau sounds on the verge of tears. Immediately his hands are on their shoulders and Mira is behind them a second later. It’s cold, it hurts, and they might have soap in their eye but... Isabeau’s warm. They almost don’t want to get up, but before they can even finish the thought Isabeau and Mirabelle are both helping him to his feet. They stumble a bit; their legs are still weak from the shock, but they manage to get their footing. Mira pulls her hands back but Isabeau keeps his grip solid as Siffrin steps back into the water.
Ahh, warm again.
“I am so sorry, Sif. I didn’t mean to keep holding on!” he whines. “... Or to fall in the first place.” He finally lets go of Siffrin only to bury his face in his soapy, wet hands. He groans loudly.
"Isa, it's okay!" They wince and put their hand to a reopened wound but don't stop laughing even as Mirabelle frantically works to close it back up.
More or less okay.
As she finishes and wipes her arm on her brow with a long sigh, Siffrin begins to giggle.
"Ribs hurty too," they wheeze through a bout of laughter.
The muffled sound of stomping catches their attention.
"FRIN! ZA! BELLE! ARE YOU OKAY IN THERE!?"
"Are you being too rough with them Isabeau?" They swear they can hear the smirk in Odile's voice. "In front of Mirabelle, too?"
Isabeau makes a choked sound and turns to the door. "N-no! We aren't doing anything like that!" He whines as Siffrin's laughing grows ever louder. "It's fine!"
Oh stars, it hurts, it hurts so much but they can't stop.
Oh no, you're being weird again. Stop it!
They crack a glance at Mira and Isabeau. They're... 
Trying not to laugh, too?
Isabeau snorts into his hand and joins in, Mira soon after.
He feels tears welling in his eye. He can see them in Isabeau's, too.
"HEY, WHAT'S SO FUNNY" Bonnie yells and smacks their hands against the door. "DID FRIN MAKE A DUMB CRABBING PUN AGAIN?"
Quick, think of one!
"Oh, it's—" Siffrin wheezes. "Uhhh... "
"It appears Sif has really fallen for me!" Isabeau says through giggles.
"BAD! YUCK! THAT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY YOU GUYS BETTER NOT START BEING GROSS ALL THE TIME!"
"Boniface, you're going to burn dinner."
"OH CRAB!" There's a sound of rapidly retreating stomps and then silence.
"Hahha—oww." Siffrin grips their sides again.
"Siffrin, be careful." Mirabelle holds out her hands but stops. Her genuine concern is broken by giggles she can't quite bite back.
They wave a hand at her before wiping his eye. "It's fine." They cough. "I actually feel... better, now." His gaze lands on Isabeau, who’s looking away with a crooked smile and a burning blush.
...Huh?
Isabeau’s shoulders still shake from barely contained laughter. His chest is covered in soap suds, and he is digging his fingers into his wrist.
"Oh, um... Siffrin... " Mirabelle picks something up off the floor and hands it to him.
The washcloth.
"OH!"
Siffrin nearly splashes half the water out of the tub slapping it back over their groin. He pulls his knees back to his chest and winces at the strain.
"Ow."
"Be careful, Sif!" Isabeau does a quick double-take before looking at them again.
Siffrin holds their hand out to him and he takes it. They sway them from side to side.
Mirabelle lets out a small whine. "Madame Odile is probably going to be at our throats if we stretch out your recovery more like this!" She wrings her hands together, then places one on top of Isabeau's. "And I can't imagine how Nille will react if we take longer getting Bonnie back home because of... this!"
Siffrin coughs out a few more chuckles and sighs.
Actually... they think about the things Bonnie has said about Nille. About her suplexing a guy for touching her. About crafting a hammer so big it broke the wall she hung it on.
He fails to suppress a shudder at the thought of her giving him a whole new set of wounds. Despite them becoming unimaginably strong during the loops, they still wouldn’t want to cross an angry and protective sibling.
“Getting cold, Sif?”
They’re snapped back to the present. “Oh, yeah, a bit.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The water was starting to lose its delightful heat.
"Do you want us to heat it up more or are you done?"
Siffrin mulls it over for a moment. "No, I probably need to lie down after all that," they chuckle.
Isabeau lets out a long whine. "Sif I'm still so sorry about that!"
"Isa," Siffrin squeezes his hand as hard as they can... which is admittedly not very hard with how exhausted he is. "I promise it's fine. I... really needed that laugh." They pull their other hand away from their knees and place it on top of their friends' hands.
"Also, uhm, Isa, " they look away as their face grows hot. "Can you, um... "
"Yeah, what's up Sif?" He leans closer.
"Can you rinse my hair for me?" He looks at Mirabelle. "Oh, i-it's not that you did a bad job at washing my hair or anything! It felt great!"
"I get it, Siffrin," she chuckles. "You did promise him you'd let him help too."
"Wait, I did?"
"No, but you should have!" Isabeau teases in mock offense.
Siffrin pouts. "Well you get to anyway, so here!" He pushes a cup into Isabeau's hands.
"Gasp! You have bestowed upon me the sacred goblet with which I will complete my holy task." He holds it gingerly in his hands and bows to them.
“Of course, my loyal knight.” Siffrin bows back. “There are not many I trust to handle such an arduous task!”
“Did you really have to say ‘gasp’ out loud, Isabeau?” Mirabelle shakes her head with a sigh and a barely restrained smile.
“I sure did!” he hums with a wide smile as he squeezes the suds from Siffrin’s hair.
They take another washcloth to their arms and start scrubbing, smiling.
"Do you want me to get your back, Siffrin?" Mirabelle asks.
"Please," he sighs.
She hums and begins with their shoulders. She rubs gentle circles down his back and is oh-so careful to avoid any visible wounds. Isabeau holds his palm against Siffrin's brow as he pours water over their head. They almost fall asleep right then and there as they’re cared for with such gentleness.
Having so many hands on them felt so... 
Nice.
Much harder to get distracted with dark thoughts with so much going on.
Yet it was getting to the verge of overstimulating. Especially each time he passes his washcloth over the not-fully-healed wounds speckling his arms.
But it's okay. They've waited so long for this. Nothing's perfect, after all.
They move to their chest, then to their legs. He's able to scrub a bit harder now—only old wounds and a few bruises there. He’s definitely working faster than the others. He almost wants to have them help with that too but he doesn’t quite think he’s ready yet.
"Thank you," they breathe.
"Of course," Mirabelle and Isabeau both hum in response.
Just about done. Siffrin finds the stopper with his toe and pops it out.
Isabeau squeezes the water from their hair and they let out another involuntary sigh in response.
They start to stretch their legs as the water drains, remembering at the last moment to slap the washcloth back over their crotch. They suppose Isabeau wouldn't mind seeing what they have but they couldn't subject Mirabelle to the horrors.
"Do you want me to dry your hair too?" Isabeau asks quietly.
"Don't get greedy, Isabeau!" Mira teases with a gentle shove to his soapy shoulder. She makes a face and rinses her hand off in the nearly-drained water.
"Whaaat! I just want to be helpful to our little rogue!"
Siffrin tries to reach for their hat to cover their blush but, once again, grabs empty air.
"I can dry their hair and you can brush it, how about that? Er—" he turns to Siffrin. "If you’re okay with it!"
Siffrin nods stiffly while biting their lip. They shudder from the exposure and Isabeau rushes to grab towels. He drapes one over their shoulders and gets to work on their hair.
"Oh, we should probably get you a change of clothes." Mirabelle eyes the tattered and bloody pile in the corner. She opens the door to find all three sets of their sleeping clothes neatly folded right outside.
"Aww, thank you, Madame!"
"Are you DONE NOW?" Bonnie groans. “Dinner's been done since forever and it's gonna get cold!"
"It hasn't even been ten minutes, Boniface." Odile sighs.
"FOREVER!"
Mirabelle giggles and struggles to close the door with her arms full of clothing.
Isabeau holds his hand out for Siffrin to grab onto and slowly helps them to their feet. Steam wafts off from their shaking legs. They hang on tighter and step out, but don’t let go of Isabeau for another moment.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
“Yeah.” They nod. They let go but hover their hands over his forearm for a moment until they can calm the shaking of their legs enough. He towels himself off and slips into his soft, clean night clothes while Mirabelle and Isabeau switch into theirs. It’s barely a second after they finish before Isabeau is back to drying their hair.
Their knees grow weak and they lean against him.
"Whoa, Sif. Let's get you to bed. We can eat there too."
Siffrin stumbles upright and nods. "Sounds good. I uh... think I could sleep for a year."
"Hah, I think we all could." He takes Siffrin by the shoulders and guides them over to the bed. He flops down halfway on it and both Isabeau and Mirabelle have to maneuver his limp noodle of a body into a more comfortable position. They wrap him up in many blankets and settle in on either side of him. Bonnie and Odile arrive soon after with plates piled high with food.
Siffrin smiles and leans his head against Isabeau’s chest.
Warm.
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bullet-prooflove · 20 hours ago
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Terry Silver + paper clip, padlock, rainy dawn. 🤗🌹
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @thedeadsingforme @eddieslut69 @mia1653 @kimbergoldess
Companion piece to:
Sick Day
Love Story
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You sleep though the rest of the night. Terry sits there at your bedside watching the rise and fall of your chest as the rainy dawn filters through the blinds of your hospital room. As he holds your hand he thinks about what would have happened if he hadn’t been there, what the doctors have told him could have happened.
You would have asphyxiated. It would have been slow, agonising and the thought of that, it makes his eyes sting, because a world without you, it simply isn’t worth living in.
The ridiculous thing is that all of this could have been prevented if you just had access to the proper health care, but you had no insurance and you couldn’t afford a doctor’s visit so you’d suffered in silence. Terry would gladly have given you the money but you’re a proud woman, you would never have asked.
After you’d returned from Europe you’d returned to your modest living, picking up a part time job at an art gallery. It’s a foot in the door to the career you want, one that your happy to work for no matter how many times Terry may offer up his contacts. You subsidise your income with ad hoc catering jobs, ones that require you to dress in black and deliver canapés to men like him at charity functions. The food at these events costs more that your wages.
It isn’t until tonight that he realises that your worlds are eons apart.
You haven’t told him how you struggle to make rent every month, that you’re dining on boxed macaroni and noodle cups because you can barely afford to make ends meet. Terry finds that out for himself when he starts to investigate your lack of health insurance.
It’s five am when his lawyer Reenie Greene shows up, she hands Terry the documentation he’s requested, all of it held together with a paperclip. Terry flicks through it studying the terms before he signs it, handing it back to her.
“That’s it?” Terry asks her and she nods her head as she tucks the paperwork back inside her three thousand dollar leather satchel.
“All you need to do is transfer the funds and the trust is set up for her. Any medical expenses she may incur in the future with be deducted from it automatically.” Reenie tells him, before she hoists the bag onto her shoulder and says goodbye.
Terry waits until he hears the clack of her heels retreat down the hall before he picks up his tablet and presses on the padlock, waiting for the device to acknowledge his biometrics. He pulls up one of his accounts before making a generous transfer to the healthcare account he’s set up for you. The one that should see you through the rest of your days.
There’s a relief in his chest as he watches the money disappear before it gets to the place it needs to go. He can breathe easy now, knowing you’re taken care of, that you’ll always be taken care of, with him or without him.
Love Terry? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
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solar4seekstron · 1 day ago
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TFA!Soft!Controlling!Blurr x Cybertronian!Femme!Reader Oneshot: Wife
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(I’ll do a more wholesome and tooth rotting fluff for our blue speedy boy! Ugh I love him! Why is every mech in this series so fine?!)
TW/Tags: 18+, bit of a dark content, Ultra Magnus basically adopts you, Jazz is your older bro, manipulation, baby trapped, implied dubcon, sort of sad ending.
You were once an archivist. You worked alongside a few bots and femmes. Long before joining the elite guard. You were just a good friend of Ultra Magnus. Your sire was his best friend before dying during the wars against Megatron years ago. In a way he was like an uncle to you.
He has tried many times to ask you to join him. Go to the academy and be a part of his team.
You know he’s doing this to protect you. It was your sires dying wish when the two were in battle together. One day one of his guards Jazz asked you if you’d like to go to a race with him. He thought, maybe you can join him.
Thinking you can leave that dusty and dark library for once. So you agreed.
Jazz was like a brother to you. At time protective when other guys try to flirt with you especially in front of Ultra magnus.
During the race you sat with some energon popcorn as Jazz cheered. Apparently he knew of the racers….. Blurr.
He was good pals with him back in school and although the two separated. They do catch up every now and then..Fun how that’s so how for most people when their own ego gets in the way.
So during the race as you ate your energon you watched as Blurr was on the screen. You’ll end it he’s pretty cute. Talks pretty fast. Adds a lot to his character.
Blurr is soon to claim victory as he cheers on his crowed. Waving to his fans as confetti and music plays. Everyone cheered along with Jazz. As they continued Jazz would then get up and gently grab your cervo. Taking you with him.
You both made your way to where the racers went. Jazz telling you to stay close by.
As you did. A few readers noticed you and even flirting with you. Both femmes, bots, and GN Cybertronians who were in the race.
You’d pay them much mind. It’s one of the reasons why you stayed where you were.
Eventually Jazz pulled you closer and put his arm around your shoulder. It resting as he leaned a bit on your as he smiled at his friend. “Hey Blurr! I want ya to meet Y/N! She’s like my lil sis! So be nice.”
You’d gently elbow his on his side as you chuckled. A smile on both your dermas as you glanced at him. Blurr only watched you for a moment as you and Jazz looked at each other. Things seemed to stop for a moment as he stared at you. Before it returns to not gain suspicion with the other bots around him.
He’d make conversation with you. Jazz staying there with his arm around you. Blurr tried really hard to not smack the shit out of Jazz the whole time.
You giggled a few times at Blurrs jokes and his funny personality as Jazz did the same. Eventually Jazz is called for something and has to step back. “You’ll be alright if I step out?” You’d nod as Jazz then fist bumps Blurr before leaving. Blurr glances at you then smiled.
”Would you like to go out?!” You stared at him as he looked like he was panicking.
The others bots and femmes not paying much attention since the cheering died off after a few hours. You’d just looked at him and just smiled. You’re not completely sure. But you suppose it shouldn’t hurt.
He was fast to grab your cervo and bring you to a corner close to the exits. No one noticing ou as his cervos gently held your arms. You both out of shot.
He would then whisper into your audio sensors. A few of his words making let out of a soft sigh. You’d have a small smile on your dermas as your cervos rests on his shoulders. Him pulling your frame against his as he wraps his x arms around your waist. He’d then speak of a date and time before kissing the side of your neck.
Before you knew it he was gone. Leaving you by the exit and soon Jazz shows up. Blurr telling him you here.
You both would then walk back to Ultra Magnus. You have been meaning to pay him a visit.
———————————————————————————
After a few days it was your and Blurrs date. The date went well. You were a bit nervous since the restaurant was very fancy. You only just lightly polished your armor before making your way there.
The date went…well. Blurr was polite but. Mostly flirtatious. You gave him another shot with a few others dates. One night you thought it wouldn’t hurt to be in his arms, as least for one night. And so…you laid with him…and then you did again.. and again. And again. You always told yourself you were swooned with him. The way he would compliment you and hold you close after each date.
But you would always have this strange and off feeling in this gut as he’d always give you rough kisses and the glances and looks he’d make when others got too close to you or even spoke to you at times.
One night, after another ‘lovely’ date. You were on your back. Blurrs load leaking from your valve after going a few rounds. He was next to you.
His arm supporting himself up as the other was around your waist. You both having a small make out session as both of you let out small moans and sighs. Your cervo moved to press against his chest as you wanted to speak.
You can tell he was a bit annoyed but compliment.
You’d then tell him the important news. “I’m going to the Guards academy. I wish to join Ultra Magnus team.” You said it point blank as Blurr just stared at you.
His smile then returns as he chuckled. “Then I guess I’m joining in the Elites the…”
He’d say with you a grin. Why did that make you nervous…He’d return to place a kiss on your dermas. Your cervos moving to hold the side of his helm as you returned the kiss. But…you held back from making your cervos push him away from you. You’re not really sure why you were going to.
You’d both stay there for a while…until he decided he wished to go another round.
Years went by as you both attended the academy. You still stayed on your birth control. To avoid getting sparked with a sparkling from Blurr. Once you all graduated. Manus was fast to having you join his team. Magnus would accept Blurr but say his place is on the planet unless he calls for him.
Blurr was not too happy about the order.
After some time when finding Optimus and his team. Blurr was aloud to join you and the team to come to earth. Eventually after everything. You and Blurr decided to go on a small vacation. You have been thinking for a good while about your relationship with him.
It’s just…not healthy. So one day as you both were having dinner. You spoke.
”Blurr I’ve been thinking.I It’s just not working out with us. I can’t go anywhere besides work and you always wish to be with me and yet I cant do anything when we go out. And I-“
“Y/N…” You looked at him. He almost seemed sad as he looked at you. A small frown on his dermas as he looked at you. He never looked at you like this before.
”Please…I’ll do better…just…give me a chance! Please! I’ll do better promise!”
His optics pleading for a chance ou’ve always been sympathetic and it wouldn be truly cruel to deny him one….would it? And so you sighed and slowly nod. A smile soon appearing his dermas.
Later that night the two of you watch a movie together. And before you both knew it you both laid together. You just…couldn’t hold yourself back from him. You loved his touch. His kiss. How gentle he can be with you. How he would whisper sweet nothing in your audio sensors as he made you feel special.
But…you forgot your birth control….
Before you knew it.You were with sparkling. You found out when you returned to the ship with Jazz and Ultra Magnus. You can tell Ultra Magnus aand Jazz we’re trying to hold in their excitement since they saw their self as your family.
Ultra Magnus seeing himself as a soon to be grandpa and Jazz as a soon to be uncle. But the whole time…You forced a smile.
After months went by, Ultra Magnus gave the order that you go on leave for some time until you’re better after the birth of your sparkling.
You had a small boy. He was so small but so healthy. Having so much life im his optics and even in his strength as he always made it a point to grab at your digits.
Blurr was over the moon when he held his little sparkling. Gently keeping him resting on his chest as he smiled down at the little sparkling..You could feel it through the spark bond….
Ultra Magnus looked like a proud grandfather when holding the young sparkling.
The little one looking like a mix of your and Blurrs armor. His color palette being similar to yours. But is just as bright as his. Having Blue optics and a large grin whoever he smiles.
Before you knew it…You had two more little sparklings running around. Jazz always visiting when you weren’t at work as the academy’s teacher.
But….Blurr never changes…If not became more controlling. He wanted more sparklings. But you’d always dodge his question or his advances…
Even now..you’re unsure on how much longer you can keep this up. All you ow is… You must keep your little ones safe…No Matter What.
I hope you guys could somewhat enjoy this! I swear I’ll make a more wholesome one for our sweet blue boy. As always a repost is appreciated and please have a good rest of your day!!!!
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londondungeon2 · 20 hours ago
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IN BLOOM. jade leech
He had not expected to see you at all during the duration of his birthday party. This, he was fine with. You are recovering after all and should remain in bed. Though, Jade supposes his act is not subtle by the way his twin keeps eyeing like watching a dog off a leash, making sure he won't run off.
tags: mild hurt/comfort, birthday bloom event, drinking & talking, established relationship, pre-canon to Got You.
word count: 2060
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He is not being subtle, is he?
Too many physical clues have given his twin insight that he is not doing mentally well. He can pass off the fidgeting with the wooden shaft of his broom to nerves over flying. His dual-colored eyes flickering over to the lounge’s clock might just be him wanting to be out of the spotlight. All those little quirks can be shrouded by a false truth, but Floyd won’t believe a single one.
Jade preserves despite this inner schism between his twin and himself. The dialogue that Shrimpy’s a big girl and she doesn’t need ya coddlin’ her, Seven, you’re latchin’ on like some parasite, get a grip. Which would be fiercely combated by the dialogue that I’m her boyfriend which should put an end to discussion but probably wouldn’t.
So, neither of them discuss it because why fight on our birthday?
He gets through the interview and the broom-flying without a hitch. Even when he teethers himself a bit closer to the safety of the ground, he manages to do it all efficiently and effectively. Though all the stomach-knotting worry, it is an impossible task to stop the smile that cracks off his pursed lips when his twin tries to snatch his Birthday Bloom hat.
For the majority of this evening’s party, Jade has been biting his tongue to hold back excuses to leave. If he took a bathroom break, it would give him ample time to – at the very least – poke his head in his dorm room. Then, he thinks about how much that is a dog owner excusing themselves early from the party to let the mutt out; then, he thinks about those stout, pearly gray parasites from home; then, he thinks himself out of his idea.
He is fiddling – that is one of his more apparently anxious habits, always grasping at the nearest thing to twist or rub between his fingertips – with the white roses sitting elegantly in his broom’s bouquet when he sees what he was not expecting to see. Birthday gifts and surprises truly don’t stop coming until midnight? Because at the entrance, there you stand.
Kalim’s proclivity towards partying has never benefited or inconvenienced Jade much before. It might have caused a few stand-alone memories to pop, but nothing other than that. Right now however, there is a slight relief coursing through him due to Kalim leaving the party early to attend another.
Your attention will not be spread so thin. Because after you are done scanning the glittering decorations, your tired eyes fall upon him first with the crushing weight of acknowledgment and scrutiny.
You smile. It is tiny and disappears right when it flickered alive. Expression quietly somber, the uncharacteristic of it is quite jarring. None of the guests are even noticing you enter beyond himself and Floyd – who for the first time all night, finally turns away and stops watching him like he is a dog off a leash, about to sprint at the next opportunity.
When you land, you sit pressed leg to leg against one another. Despite how thick the robes are, indigo cotton like a shield, he feels the weight of you leaning against him like a fallen building most. Pressure under the Coral Sea is suffocating; the crude mimic of the sensation done by you is comforting.
“I’m not crashing the party, am I,” you ask into the pattern of golden swirling keys and crows on your boyfriend’s cloak. “Thought you guys would be done by now.”
“So did I. Truthfully, there is not much left to be done.” Which is why it has been frustrating that Floyd was not letting him escape.
“Whaaa,” you whisper softly, “no, you gotta party till you drop. There’s no other way to celebrate a birthday.”
“I see,” Jade tuts. He looks down at the crown of your hair resting by the corner where his magestone sits on his birthday uniform. “You don’t particularly look ready to get up and dance with me. How unfortunate.”
Like a feline, you rub your cheek deep into the dreamlike scene embodied on his outfit. The entire wardrobe line does look like these birthday boys were plucked from dark night skies. It would not be surreal to imagine you collapsing into him and falling asleep, like a meteor fizzling out on earth.
Instead, you murmur, “I just woke up from a nap. Give me a second.” Your hand reaches out and grabs Jade’s milkshake glass that is full of Boozy Blue. He watches through what isn’t blocked by your hair as you take the miniature umbrella he left on the edge and begin to twirl it in your fingertips. “You won’t be able to keep up.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“No. Just a promise.” A cough splits apart the end of your sentence.
Deliberate, Jade points his focal attention towards the lounge. Only a few stragglers are left in the almost concluded birthday celebration. Even Azul has already retired so really this should close up soon. Gazing, Jade finds that Ortho Shroud is among the stragglers and he happens to be impolitely staring at the both of you.
A twitch passes over Jade’s upper lip. He surmised that he knows exactly what those traffic-yellow eyes are taking in, calculating the diameter and shape of the bruises left on your neck.
He goes to reach down, pet along the side of your face, and cover your neck from any peering audience when something hits his fingers. Your heartbeat … it’s pounding. Like a drum. So powerfully loud that it almost seems to disrupt the air around you. Is it not uncomfortable to sit upright like that when your heart is seizing up in premature cardiac arrest? He should rest you down further on the couch so you may relax until your heart stops trying to break out your ribcage.
Had you just woken up from a nightmare? Jade’s hand lands on your shoulder, sailing past the spot he was seeking to conceal. If he touches there, there is a rising probability that you might seize up.
He flexes his grip on your bicep and you lean deeper into his uniform, both of you trying to fuse into each other’s warm touch. Running his tongue over needle-pointed teeth, Jade asks after a quiet minute of cuddling, “May I ask that you fulfill a promise to me on my birthday?”
“Of course.” You stir to look up at him with witchcraft eyes. A jovial smile pulls your lips, ready to please, as you twist the little umbrella, guaranteeing, “Anything for the birthday boy.”
“Never. Never go into Ramshackle without me.”
Your lips fall flat. That thunderous heartbeat — that Jade can almost graze as it lies thin and delicate across every plain of your skin — skips a beat. “Jade —.”
“Please,” he tries to keep despair out of his voice but knows by how you flinch that it was inadequate. “Please, never go into Ramshackle again.” It feels selfish to ask a person with your disposition to be shackled or forbidden from a certain place, but it would ease his own pounding heart to never find you in such a state again.
After a moment of silence, you pull away from Jade and place down the umbrella. Your furrow brow makes him think you are going to leave, walk straight out of the party. Instead, you reach into your pajama pants pocket. “I promise, I won’t ever go into Ramshackle again. But, I had to go in there yesterday because I had to retrieve this.”
Between the gate of your index and middle finger, slightly obscured by your howlite ring, you hold up something slim and shiny. One could almost mistake it for a sturgeon scale and when Jade was younger than eighteen, he probably would have made that mistake. Now older, freshly turned twenty today, he knows that you are holding your lucky guitar pick in your hand — one of the three original possessions you have from your alien world.
“Why didn’t you —?”
“I didn’t think it would be right to ask you for your help. It’s my pick. It’s my problem. And I didn’t want —.”
“Nonsense.” Jade grasps the wrist holding your treasure and says firmly, “It would not have been a strife to go with you, I promise.”
You go huff with a closed lip smile. So it goes. Your head falls delicately and looping hair covers up the skin-deep necklace of plum and black that you wear. An insidious accessory.
The first thing you eat after waking up from your nap is a plum that has gone bad. Everyone has left the birthday longue, even Floyd who had ruffled your hair and told you that ya still owed him a birthday gift. You had smiled; now you are frowning while the feeling of wet, rotten curdles lying in your mouth upsets your taste buds.
You find a napkin and spit into it. The pattern of it matches the birthday outfits with their golden crows and golden keys and golden swirls. In the ribcage of your napkin sits a squishy heart of discolored yellow, half-chewed plum. The color reminds you of those science videos wheeled out of a rickety table, showing off pale yellow cholesterol in the veins and pale yellow puss seeping out infected eyes. A snail-trail of old salvia falls from the heart and glides over your palm.
Comatose, you stare at the bruised fruit cradled in the night-sky napkin before Jade pulls you out of your melancholy by setting down the tea you asked for.
Unsure why you were staring so vividly and tracing each rutting mound of half-chewed fruit, you fold the napkin over your rejected bite and inform your boyfriend, “The fruits gone bad. Did Azul forget to get rid of old stock?” You doubt he did but you are simply asking to fill up conversation space.
His eyes flicker curiously over to what you hold out to him: inners that are rotting in a slimy brownish, pale yellow. “Perhaps he did.”
Before you can get up to do it, Jade takes the plum from your hand and disposes of it in the nearby trash. He leaves you with your napkin; perhaps because he did not see you spit up instead of swallow your bite. You hold it in your hand, over the top of your knee, as wetness seeps through the thin cover of night.
“This should wash the taste out of your mouth,” Jade says, sitting down and pushing the tea he prepared towards you. He has already made sure it has cooled to the perfect temperature.
Meticulous, you think as you lift up the fragile chinaware. It washes through the bruises that have been left in the inner-workings of your throat like a heated river. “Thank you, baby.”
“It is no trouble.”
You squeeze the fruit-heart in your hand, just once for good luck. Truthfully, you don’t know if you will be able to sing again. Too terrified to try, you have been avoiding even humming to fill up silence, worried the tone might be off. Sacrificing your health had seemed natural when you went back into Ramshackle to gather the last belonging that you left behind.
Bowing your head, you sigh. The atmosphere, now that everyone is gone, is so serious. You loathe serious atmospheres and always hope the future has no more in store for you. Always, your hopes are dashed.
So, you try to switch the conversation, “Your flowers are pretty.” You’re curious if he picked them himself or something like the ‘Magical Pendulum’ or another inane sorting device chose them.
Jade glances at them just as you say. “You’re in bloom. Twenty is the cusp of adulthood.”
He smiles handsomely. “Such a notion makes it sound like my previous years had little significance.”
“Well, not like that. But you got internships coming up. Everything has to … turn serious, you know.”
“You must be loathing your next birthday.”
“Hey! I’m staying nineteen forever. I don’t know about you but I’m not ever coming out of my teens.” A chuckling rumble spread across your arm as Jade laughs at your quick nudge. His witch’s hat tilts with his mirth.
Both of you think — unbeknownst to the other half — things should stay like this. Immortal flowers that will never rot. Always in bloom.
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paintedgrilledcheese · 2 days ago
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Why must things be so unfair? Why must I have to put in the extra effort to get noticed? Why can't I be more extroverted like every other girl. I wish I had some more friends so I can stop disappointing my parents. But every friend group I been in never think about me twice. Just the damn tag along, and once they leave me, none of them ever reach out to check on me.
What do you want from me? What are you looking for? I feel like I always fail people's expectations and I feel so lonely because if that.
I feel so selfish for even venting about this. The world could be ending for others right now and here I am crying because oh I don't have many friends irl.
I might be offline for a while today. I don't have the energy to talk in dms. Might respond to a few rps but not start new ones. Idk.
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tsartistry · 1 day ago
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I love the Niobe kidnaps Lester AU! I’m already so invested in it! But I have many questions…
1. How does Leto (aka mama Leto) feel about this?
2. What is/how are the Apollo kids feeling? Are their powers not working as much or what?
3. How is Olympus doing? Is someone doing apollos work? Are they trying to investigate or are they trying to pretend that nothing is happening?
4. Did Lester/apollo gain their powers back before Niobe kidnapped him? And since he’s being brainwashed did he forget he does have powers if he gained them again or are they just completely gone?
5. Will Lester/apollo have a love interest?
And last question for this post I swear lol does Lester/apollo ever show signs of their powers once and awhile? Like for example if their hair starts to go blonde suddenly?
Sorry for so many questions, I’m just so invested in this AU ever since I discovered it lol I keep going back to this tag just to reread everything :3
1. How does Mama Leto feel about all this?
in a nutshell?
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For the past several thousand years, Leto's had a lot of trust in Zeus. Even during Apollo's trials, while she was begging him to end the trials and restore her son's divinity, she still trusted him. Surely if Apollo succeeded at his trials, then Zeus would keep his word and restore him to Olympus. And if he failed -- she did not want to think about him failing, but she still trusted she would see her son again. Somehow.
But now, it's not a matter of success or failure; Apollo is just gone. Leto can't find any trace of him, and suddenly Zeus isn't giving her any answers. She can't exactly bring wrath down upon the King of the Olympus the way she did Niobe millennia ago. All she can do is ask everyone she knows for help finding her son, and stew in her worry as she waits for any scrap of information.
She's not doing great.
(Whenever she finds out about Niobe's involvement, all that anxiety turns into RAAAAAGE)
2. What is/how are the Apollo kids feeling? Are their powers not working as much or what?
Their powers are weakened, but still working! Their spirits... not so much. It's not like Apollo to give them radio silence. When they ask the other gods for information, they provide no answers. But where Leto was filled with anxiety, the Apollo kids are on the cusp of despair. The only thing they're holding on to is Nico saying he didn't feel Lester die; But if that's the case, where is he?
3. How is Olympus doing? Is someone doing apollos work? Are they trying to investigate or are they trying to pretend that nothing is happening?
I hadn't thought about who was doing Apollo's work, but thinking about it now, it's probably either Hermes or Artemis. Maybe they switch off? Hermes has a precedent for handling Apollo's animals, and Artemis would want to ensure her brother's position as sun god is cared for and not usurped. She saw what happened to Helios, after all.
But Olympus is tense. Zeus is convinced that Apollo went into hiding, perhaps hoping that Zeus will come begging for him to come defeat Python --
Oh, yeah, Python's still around, by the way! He's still digesting the power of the Triumvirate, and still has complete control over Delphi, and there is now a risk of him using his power and position to start taking control of fate. With every day that passes, the serpent's power grows, and the tension among the Olympians builds.
Unfortunately, fate has decreed the absent Apollo would be the one to defeat the serpent. But Zeus will not stoop to begging Apollo to come back; That would be showing weakness! He's fine waiting out his son's little tantrum. He's just making it harder for himself, after all; Every day Python grows more powerful. But that's Apollo's problem. Why should Zeus be worried about an evil serpent possibly taking control of fate itself?
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Yeah, Zeus is panicking. He pretends to know where Apollo is, but he's as clueless as everyone else, and it's terrifying. Even in the guise of a mortal, what could make an entire god disappear so suddenly? And could Python pull the strings of fate to force the Olympians to fall?
Despite his efforts to look cool and collected, the other Olympians are starting to see the cracks in his facade. Poseidon especially is starting to smell blood in the water, so to speak.
4. Did Lester/apollo gain their powers back before Niobe kidnapped him? And since he’s being brainwashed did he forget he does have powers if he gained them again or are they just completely gone?
I wouldn't say they're gone, but I would say he does not have access to them. The power still exists, but he cannot reach it.
The brainwashing and the lost powers are two separate things that were done to him. Niobe actually did some magical shenanigans (with the help of a Greek goddess I won't name just yet, it's someone who has never appeared in the Riordanverse) to actually remove parts of Apollo's soul to prevent him from accessing them.
5. Will Lester/apollo have a love interest?
I don't have any plans to write any romance for Lester, but who knows, maybe as I'm writing I'll get struck with inspiration! But the story's already complicated enough, haha, romance might tangle it up even more.
And last question for this post I swear lol does Lester/apollo ever show signs of their powers once and awhile? Like for example if their hair starts to go blonde suddenly?
Yes! While he's lost access to most of his powers due to Niobe's meddling on top of Zeus turning him mortal, she overlooked his music powers! It's actually a plot point that he can use music and rhythm to guide people's emotions and movements.
I like to imagine that if he practices hard & concentrates, he can trigger an entire diegetic musical number. The kind where he can get a whole crowd singing and dancing together. Unfortunately that sort of thing is difficult to convey in writing.
Sorry for so many questions, I’m just so invested in this AU ever since I discovered it lol I keep going back to this tag just to reread everything :3
aaa that makes me so happy!! Please don't feel bad about asking questions, it helps me fill in details I hadn't thought about before :D
speaking of Apollo's music powers, here's a bonus doodle
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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 3 days ago
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I don’t know why but Frankie became my reliable boy with a sarcastic sense of humor, it just happened 😂 I love our PEK™️ so much, we all need to have him in our lives ♥️
I’m so happy you had fun reading this, thank you so much for sharing, for your kind words and the tag thing awwww 🥹
Many hugs and I'll let this perfect human being tell you that I love you 💕
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Give me more.
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Pairing: neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader Words count: 2527 Rating: +18, MDNI
Summary: You're ovulating and can't calm down, just the night before Frankie leaves for a two-day camping trip with the boys for Santi's birthday... luckily Frankie is willing to help you... too much, even.
Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, established relationship, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, a lot of kissing, female masturbation (on Frankie's leg hehehe), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), overstimulation, aftercare, reader has breasts and vagina, wears a baby doll and a thong, she's able body, she doesn't blush, she has hair but it's not described and she has no other description, brief reader’s thought insert, marked in italics. Pussy pronouns. Pet names (baby, honey, good girl). Frankie is our PEK on a mission 🫡
A/N: This Frankie is the same as You look like a fun place to sit, but it can be read as a stand alone, there are only some mild references to the previous ff. (If you haven't read it yet though, I hope you do 👀♥️) I have a couple more ideas in mind for these two, I hope to have something out for the Christmas holidays at least. Thank you so much for loving these two in the previous story, especially to @harriedandharassed who read it and shared it like 3 times if I'm not mistaken, I'm so flattered and grateful. I hope this one works just as well as the first one. English is not my first language, I have no beta, I hope there aren't too many mistakes, please forgive me if there are. I'm open to any advice you want to give me to improve but please be kind. (you always are, tbh). Comments and reblogs are always welcome, you would make me so happy 🥹 I started a tag list, if you want to be added leave a comment. If you'd prefer to be tagged only on something specific I can definitely do that, just let me know.
Thanks to anyone who reads, I hope you enjoy.
“Frankie...” you whisper in the dark.
“Yes?” he answers you in a thick sleepy voice
“Are you asleep?”
“Actually yes.”
“You're answering me, though.”
“Sweetheart...” he picks up his phone from the nightstand ”It's 3:00 a.m. What's wrong?”
“I can't sleep” you groan
“Come here, come on” you shift on his part of the bed and he holds you tightly against his body, you rest your head on his chest and surrender to his comforting embrace and the scent of his skin.
You hum “thank you”
He places a kiss on your forehead “sleep now”
You close your eyes, focusing on the sense of peace you feel wrapped in his strong arms, clasped to his body as warm as a furnace, one leg crossed over his, one arm wrapped around his waist.
It's amazing, really, so amazing that soon you begin to feel something else. a little shiver that runs under your skin, a little electric shock that goes through you all, and then a crescendo of wetness between your thighs.
You’re ovulating and you’re feral, simple as that.
You try not to mind it, to let it pass, not to be too demanding after he has already made you come twice tonight, once on the couch while you were watching a movie - well at least you tried, but you actually have no idea what the movie was about because you were too busy bouncing on his cock, which when you think back on it, it makes you laugh because it seems like a constant in your dating that you can't finish watching a movie without jumping on each other - and once as soon as you got into bed when he saw you coming out of the bathroom in a new babydoll and thong you bought especially for him.
Only two months ago neither of you could stand the other but now, as much as it still bothers you to admit it since he was the last person you thought you would end up with, you are completely and hopelessly smitten with him.
“Frankie,” you whisper, hoping he won't tell you off “can we kiss for a while? Just a little bit?”
It’s so early in the morning that he doesn't have the energy to be sarcastic as usual, he just replies “of course, baby”
He lowers himself on your face and kisses you on the lips, in a very tender but rather chaste way, he still looks half asleep. After a couple of minutes he stops and you sigh, resting your head back on his chest. 
I must let him sleep, you tell yourself. This man is tired, he has already fucked me twice, that should be enough for now. Yet no, it's not enough, you still crave more.
“Frankie.." you mumble on his chest.
“Mmm what is it again?” his voice is even deeper and rougher than usual, which literally sends you into raptures.
"I..." a glimpse of him between your legs as he eats your pussy flashes past your eyes, you squeeze them hard and admit "I want you"
“Still?” he doesn't have an angry tone, nor an irritated one, he's calm, quiet, definitely awake at this point because you feel his hands roam over your back, all the way down to your ass “you insatiable little minx. You know I have to get up in three hours.” 
“I know...but it's not fair, it's Saturday” 
‘You were there when I promised to go camping and fishing with the guys, right?’ You leverage your arms to reach his neck, resting your lips on his soft, amber skin ”mmmm yes” you groan.
He chuckles, as he squeezes your butt cheeks “you know I have to, it's Santi's birthday” 
You continue your run up his neck, slipping your hands under his shirt, caressing his back.
“I’m going to miss you,” you whisper in his ear, burying a hand in his dark curls, your leg tightening around him brushing your barely covered pussy on his leg. Frankie gasps at the sensation, as you begin to grind against his thigh. “It’s only for two days. Jesus, you really are a menace, you know that?” 
“Yeah, you like that about me” You coo.
He puts a hand on your neck, his thumb brushing your ear while his other fingers wrap around the base of your skull. “I sure do. Go ahead, honey, make a mess on me”
You’re grinding hard, the texture of your brand new thong is adding a delicious scratch between your clit and his skin. 
Ridiculous desperate moans escape your lips and he kisses you, letting them vibrate into his mouth. 
He’s wearing only a t-shirt and boxers, which allows you to feel his warm skin, your clit throbbing against him, your dripping pussy heating from the contact.
You feel the tingle of your orgasm mount inside you, your mouth is wide open for him, your tongue feverishly entwined with his in a sweet struggle that leaves you breathless.
And you come, wave after wave, quivering against him, one of his strong arms keeps you in place while his other hand is still wrapped around your neck squeezing lightly on your pulse point.
Your breath is short and ragged, your body hot and tested and yet you feel like it’s not enough.
As soon as your breathing returns to normal you mutter “gosh...I want more” into his slightly sweaty t-shirt.
His voice comes out more high pitched than he would like, he opens his eyes wide and exclaims, "Baby, do you want to wreck even the last bit of me tonight?”
You giggle softly and coo “She’s aching, you know…”
You feel one of his hands kneading one of your ass cheeks and then sliding down to your pussy, massaging your folds from behind, wetting his fingers with your juices.
“Mmm that’s good” you whisper “but I still want more”
Frankie grunts, flipping you onto your back on the bed and getting on top of you. 
His eyes scan you in the dim light of your room, reading the lust on your face. “How much is she aching?” 
You whine, tighten your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer but Frankie doesn't budge an inch, he's too strong for you.
“Use your words, baby, I know you can.” His gaze is no longer clouded by sleep, it’s alert and authoritative and he pins you down. 
“A lot.” 
“Yeah? Does this wet pussy need me?” he goes down your chest kissing your skin left uncovered by the thin straps of your baby-doll. You moan again, you don't know how to do anything else, your head feels light and confused. 
"Answer me" he says leaving a bite on your shoulder. 
You squirm and a breathy "Yes" comes out of your throat.
You feel his cock swell against your thigh, A trickle of desire runs down between your legs, wetting the thong you're wearing underneath. It’s basically drenched at this point.
“What do you want me to do? Tell me what your naughty pussy needs" 
“Your tongue, your fingers…” you whine “Please, Frankie” 
One thing you learned right away about Frankie is that he really enjoys eating his girl out. 
He's not one of those men who do it just to get a blowjob in return. He's dedicated. He uses his tongue, his lips, his nose even, he compliments how you taste, how pretty your cunt is, how wet and warm she is under his tongue, he doesn't stop until you're left shaking and breathless beneath him, until he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you. 
He really is a force of nature and blows your mind every single time. And not only at doing that, he is experienced and passionate in every field.
“Greedy”
He pulls back the duvet and the cool air hardens your nipples as he reaches between your legs, his lustful, tantalizing eyes peering down at you. 
His mouth brushes your inner thigh, slowly moving up from your knee to your groin, his beard tickling you deliciously, “is that what you want huh?” 
“Yes” you murmur ”yes, please.” 
His plump lips settle on your opening, he sticks out his tongue and licks from above the fabric. You moan, sinking a hand into his raven curls, pressing him against your cunt. 
He chuckles against your folds, sending an exquisite vibration through your body, slips his fingers into the elastic of your thong and slowly pulls it down. 
Your cunt throbs in anticipation as his tongue travels up your slit and you emit a deep “Fuck, yes” as soon as his lips latch onto your clit, sucking away the last bit of reasoning you had left. 
“Oh God, Frankie” 
He goes down again and comes back up, tongue flat out sliding over your wetness, once, twice, three, four times as an irrepressible heat spreads inside you again and then the tip of his tongue stops under your clit and he begins to jerk it quickly with close flicks.
His hand is open on your thigh, he slows down a bit when he feels your body tenses, goes back to teasing your opening and then starts tickling your bundle of nerves again.
You tug his hair, spreading your legs even wider to take in all that he wants to give you, melting under his ministration.
“Fuck, you’re so good, don’t stop” you whine and you see him grinning as he replies “I won’t, baby, I’m going to have a damn fucking meal out of this pussy”
His touch is careful, long laps and sucks on your clit, he knows how to alternate them, he seems to know your body and the way it reacts inside out.
Another thing you discovered about him is that he is great at listening and observing and very often guesses your needs and reactions before you express them. He immediately learned how you take your coffee, how you frown when something is bothering you, he knows that you need a particularly tight hug on Monday nights, and that on Friday nights you like to treat yourself to a drink to celebrate getting to the end of another work week.
Frankie is good, really good, you even start to really like quarreling with him, you like the way he stands up to you, the thrill of it and the amazing sex that usually comes right after. 
He brings you almost to the edge with his tongue without taking his eyes off your face, and then you feel two of his fingers nudging at your entrance “you want them huh?” 
“Yes” you breathe, almost on the verge of delirium and he teases “ask nicely baby, I haven’t heard that little magic word yet” 
You would roll your eyes if you were able to do that but right now all you feel is desire, desire to be full again with his fingers, desire to be fucked just like the way you like, desire to be his and only his. 
“Pl-please” you mutter and he whispers “here she is, my good girl” 
His index and middle finger start to stretch you, it seems like he’s taking all the time in the world while you’re trembling and begging to be satiated.
“Almost there pleasepleaseplease”you plead and he sinks a little bit more, up to half fingers, his other hand gripping on the soft skin on your tummy, keeping you in place while your back feels like a guitar’s string ready to snap.  
Your walls are clenching desperately around his fingers, impatient to have all but instead of giving you your long awaited release he comes out completely. 
"Fuck" you hiss. 
His lips are curved into a mocking smirk.
Your clit is swollen, your hole empty and the almost release is tingling all over your body like a latent fire that cannot be extinguished.
“Did you think I would make this easy for you?” He asks ironically.
You scoff “Goddamn,Frankie!” 
You don't know how he finds strength but he's making you pay for be so demanding, your pussy won't stop throbbing as he barely caresses you, feather light touches on your folds, deliberately ignoring your clit. 
You try to breathe deeply to calm down, but as soon as Frankie feels your body relax he returns to licking you, two fingers on your clit moving in circles. 
You're almost on the verge of tears when he brings you back to within an inch of your brink.
“Frankie, please” you cry “I can’t- fuck- I just can’t”
“Oh yes, you can. You wanted more? I’m going to give you exactly this so now shut up and let me do my job” he’s commanding now.
He’s slow and steady over your bundles of nerves and when you impossibly tense again his mouth is back on it, sucking and teasing with his tongue.
When he gives you your second orgasm he doesn't stop stimulating you as it washes over you, your back arches sharply, you’re gushing in his mouth and all over his face, your hand in his hair tugs to try to pull him away from you but he doesn't move, his lips stubbornly latched onto your clit, his hand firmly on your tummy while the other grips your thigh. 
He doesn't stop as you anchor yourself to the edge of the mattress trying to lift yourself up, your body twitching unbearably, he pulls you by your legs and brings you right back to where he wants you without taking his face off you, in fact sinking even more. “Frankie please, please, I can't” you feel tears stinging your eyes. 
You feel so sensitive it’s almost impossible to handle. 
“Ssssh you’re good” he says, detaching from you just long enough to say it, his beard and mustache glistening and soaked in your essence.
You squeeze your eyes, cover your mouth with your hand as you wail so gravelly it almost doesn’t sound your voice anymore. 
You're overstimulated, your body is sore, you murmur a tearful “please” again, and Frankie finally decides you've had enough. He pulls away from you and takes you in his arms as he whispers, “You're okay, honey,” caressing your back. Your labored breathing slowly returns to normal, giving way to a deep, dense feeling of gratification. 
Frankie definitely reached another level of dedication tonight. 
“Is everything okay?” he asks as he lifts your chin, inviting you to look at him. "Yes," you murmur, and he kisses you tenderly, "do you think I've given you enough to deal with my absence for two days?”
You giggle “I think it's enough to endure a week” and ruffle his hair kissing him again, lingering on his lower lip “But let me tell you something, though, someone they call Catfish who goes fishing… it's really odd”
The sound of his thunderous laugh vibrates against you “I hadn't thought about it but I must admit that you are right. Now let me sleep for...I don't even know what time it is anymore” He reaches out an arm to retrieve the phone on the nightstand and realizes that it is already five o'clock.
“Oh, fuck”
tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter 🌹
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