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ghostgorlsworld · 10 days

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Johnny Boy (Part 7)

Werewolf! Johnny x reader

part one is here

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until he decides to knock on your door.

Notes--Johnny is showing his true colors so the story is definitely getting a little darker.

You woke up hungover and embarrassed.

You were old enough to know better and a mother for Christ’s sake–by all means too old to be making idiotic decisions that could shake the life you had spent over half a decade building. You could hardly remember what had led up to Johnny doing…the thing that he did, but you were sure you didn’t exactly put up a fight.

Tommy walked Emma back to your house shortly after seven, dressed for work. He pulled the makings of breakfast from the fridge, grumbling some nonsense about two full-grown wolf-soldiers eating him out of house and home. You were trying very hard not to do your walk of shame, refusing to look at the chair or the leftover pizza in the fridge. Emma, of course, was none the wiser, curling up in your lap to nuzzle at your face.

“Did you have fun?” You asked, inspecting her for signs staying up too late.

Emma nodded, beginning a long play-by-play of the previous night’s events, including a humorous addition of her forcing Simon to teach her card games. “We had ice cream after dinner,” she said, whispering it so Tommy wouldn’t hear. “Uncle Tom told me not to tell you.”

Emma couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. You laughed and tickled her sensitive feet.

You couldn’t believe you had been so weak to let Johnny back in again. You couldn’t trust him, no matter what he said about his reasons for disappearing, and adding sex to the equation could only make things even worse.

“Johnny was out late last night,” Tommy said casually, cracking an egg into a pan. “He left after Emma went to bed.”

You couldn’t help but glance at the chair, trying very hard not to remember Johnny’s voice, wrecked and commanding, or his hands, or his tongue-

“I had an early night,” you said. “Charlie called for a raincheck.”

“Mm,” Tom said. “Scrambled?” You nodded, not missing Emma’s curious look. She really was too smart for her own good.

The weekend passed uneventfully–you avoided Johnny by packing up Emma and spending a day in the city, finishing up your Christmas shopping in the shiny shops and taking Emma ice skating in the square. He called you once, but you quickly put Emma on the phone, your stomach aching just at the thought of talking to him.

Emma picked out a pair of red and white striped socks and a box of legos as a gift for her father. She was pleased with her choices, and you tried your very best to smile when she displayed them to you.

Johnny wasn’t even going to be around for Christmas, and that was something you needed to discuss with him. Your little girl couldn’t survive off of no letters or calls–after all, it nearly killed you.

Monday comes with the first real snowfall of the year. You dressed in warm layers, sweaters and soft scarves, Emma’s face pink under the winter jacket you had strapped her in.

Charlie was sitting by your desk at work, two cups of coffee in hand and your favorite pastry in front of your chair. He smiled as you unwound the scarf from your neck, looking appropriately guilty and embarrassed. “I wanted to apologize,” he said, passing you the coffee. “I…it was a dick move. I had a few already and confused the days–I er, I tried to call you in the morning when I had come to my senses but you didn’t answer.”

Honestly, you had forgotten about it completely. You raised a brow at the man. “I took Emma to the city for Christmas shopping. We were busy.” Charlie nodded. “Yeah, of course, it’s the holidays. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve fucked things up.”

You searched around for anger, or even mild irritation, but it was gone, used up entirely by Johnny. “It’s alright, Charlie, thanks for the coffee.” Charlie smiled again, relieved. You took a seat at your desk and listened to him chatter about drama with Chris and Jan at the copying machine.

You watched his hands. They were good hands–man hands, if you will, pale hair on his knuckles and a silver ring on his thumb. Johnny’s hands were wide and thick with dark hair, his nail beds always worn raw from the shift from stubby human nails to sharp claws.

Why were you comparing? What was wrong with you?

Why couldn’t you just let sleeping dogs lie?

Charlie claimed your attention once more, following you to the carts of books that needed shelves. “I was wondering…I know I’ve acted like a right bastard, but I was thinking I could make it up to you. How does dinner tomorrow sound? I’ll make the food and supply the wine, you just bring yourself.”

You wanted to say no. That meant that you would have to see if Julienne would keep Emma for a few more hours, not to mention your attraction to Charlie had taken a nose-dive when he ditched you the first time. If only your body held all men accountable–your issue with Johnny would be solved overnight.

That was the thing that made you consider it. Johnny. He was your kryptonite, your achilles heel, and you needed to burn his touch off your skin.

“Alright,” you said. “If I can get a sitter for the bear.” “Deal,” Charlie said, grinning. He kissed your cheek gently, mouth warm and chapped.

Johnny texted the next morning, asking if he could take you and Emma out to lunch on your break. He offered to drop her off at Juliene’s house as well, saving you the walk.

You needed to rip the bandaid off. He wasn’t going to stay away forever, and it didn’t matter he had eaten you out while you were very sad and very drunk, you couldn’t keep him away from Emma.

“Em, do you want to see Johnny today?” You asked, hoping against hope she would shake her head.

Instead, your darling girl perked up, ears twitching as she nodded eagerly. The full moon was coming quickly, so her behavior was…off, her eyes growing brighter by the day. Johnny used to refuse to be around you on the week of the full moon. He disappeared from your house and would show back up a few days later, looking exhausted and on edge, twitching if you tried to touch him.

You sighed.

Where should we meet you?

Johnny’s reply was lightning quick. You still like Angelo’s?

Angelo’s was a sandwich shop you used to frequent with Johnny, you hadn’t been in ages. That’s fine.

Johnny texted back something enthusiastic and barely legible.

Julienne had agreed to watch Emma for a couple more hours without irritation, saying she could use the money for a fancy new garden gadget she had been eyeing. You planned on grabbing it for her for Christmas, a token of your appreciation for her help with Emma.

You were going to give Charlie one last chance, if this dinner didn’t pan out you would find some other patsy to take you out every other weekend.

Johnny was going to be gone soon, after all, and Emma is unpredictable with these things. She could take it as easily as she took the death of her grandfather, or it could be…catastrophic.

You eyed your phone, forcing yourself to do the hard thing that neither of you wanted to face.

I was hoping you would talk to Emma about you leaving soon.

There. You said it. You tossed your phone on the bed and finished getting dressed, herding Emma to school before you forced yourself to look at his response.

Of course, hen, we’ll talk about it.

Work went by quickly in your haze of anxiety. What would he say to Emma?

What would he say to you?

You didn’t expect him to be waiting at Emma’s school. He was leaning against his truck, all twinkly blue eyes and a sharp smile that reminded you that he left for you. Because he couldn’t control himself.

Johnny was trying to be good. You see it now, you remembered the way he used to follow you home after school, walking close behind you like he thought someone was going to steal you away. He wouldn’t share food with anyone, not even Tom, but if you asked he would always tear whatever it was in half and put it on your plate.

Johnny and Tom had been playing video games in the living room when you left for your first date. You were sixteen and he had just hit twenty one, and he had looked at poor Dan Hilton like he wanted to rip out his guts and serve them up with eggs.

You had chalked it up to brotherly feelings, or the simple fact that Johnny has never liked to share.

To see it for what it was felt…odd. You had heard about wolves claiming human spouses, putting a bite on their throat like a wedding band and never, ever letting go.

“Hey,” you said tiredly.

Johnny straightened–he wanted a hug, you could see it in the way his hands twitched. “I figured I would give the two of ye a ride, yeah? It’s fuckin’ freezin’ today.” “Alright,” you said, glancing at your phone. The bell should be ringing any minute, and Johnny’s attention would be on Emma and not you. His attention was dangerous, it made you stupid and reckless.

“I heard you’ve got a hot date tonight,” Johnny said, going straight for the jugular.

You stiffened. “That’s none of your business.” “Ach, lass, you wound me.”

“Johnny, the other night…it was a mistake. I was drunk and lonely and you were there.” You didn’t think it was possible to hurt Johnny, but you did. It flashed across his eyes, his jaw tightening into a straight line.

You felt your stomach twist–god you were handling this all wrong-

He took a step, tilting your chin up with the pad of his rough finger. He wanted you to look at him, to watch his pupils swallow up the bright blue of his eyes. “I’m not a good man, kitty. Hell, I’m not even a man, not really. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll repent every fuckin’ day for it, but if you let him touch you, I’ll gut him like a goddamn fish.” “How dare you-” you began, but Johnny gripped your chin then, pressing the tips of his claws into your skin lightly. “You want me,” Johnny said, his gaze hazy and wild as it dropped to your mouth. “Even now. I should bite you right here, make it real fucking simple for you.”

There it was–the wolf that he had hidden from you for so long, the killer wearing the skin of your brother’s best friend. You forced yourself to hold his stare, feeling the sharp prick of his claws on the delicate skin of your throat.

“I want a proper husband, John,” you said softly. “I want a real father for my child, someone who will be there for the birthdays and graduations and holidays. I want someone to sleep beside me every night, someone that doesn’t make me do this alone.”

You knew you were driving a knife right between his ribs–you knew how badly this would hurt him. Johnny had spent his childhood not being right for his mother, not being human enough, gentle enough.

His eyes were so bright and so lost.

“I’ve been alone for six years, John. I don’t ever want Emma to know what that feels like.”

Johnny was silent, his breath coming fast and rough. “I’ll never let another man have you,” he rasped. “You’re mine. Both of you.”

He pressed closer, nuzzling your jaw with a low growl. “I’ll be a good mate, hen, I suppose it’s only right that I prove myself before we have our next pup.”

“No!” You hissed, pushing him away. “Enough, Johnny. You’ll be gone soon and I’ll have to deal with the fallout as per fucking usual.”

Your words weren’t working–they were working him up instead, like Emma when she watched the neighbor’s squirrels chase each other in the trees. His heart thudded like a drum under your palm.

“You’re making a scene, kitty,” he said slyly, tilting his head like he wanted nothing more than to give chase. “Now hush, we’ll talk about this later. Emma shouldn’t see Mum and Dad argue.” You opened your mouth to argue, so furious you could hardly think.

“Mum?” Emma sang, bouncing out of the school. “Oh, Johnny!” She ran to him, the little traitor. Johnny smiled, his sharp edges softening as he swung her up into his arms. “Ach, my girl’s getting heavy,” he teased, nuzzling her face. She mimicked his movements, her smile bright and happy–they were scenting each other.

You looked away. “C’mon you two,” you said, forcing your tone to lighten. “I only have an hour for lunch.”

You barely touch your food, your stomach twisting and turning in furious knots. A sandwich, your old favorite, sits in front of you, courtesy of Johnny.

The audacity of men. You were the one who had spent countless nights bouncing up and down the hallway with Emma in your arms, exhausted and sore, your breasts swollen and aching from her sharp teeth–yet, Johnny was quickly a new favorite. They were the same, after all, the same species, the same aggressive, needy temperament.

Johnny wiped a bit of mustard from Emma’s cheek, humming at her irritated whine. She was close to her shift, and her skin was sensitive. “Dinna fash, baby, it’s the moon,” he crooned, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. “I woke up this morning w’my skin crawling.”

That was another bump in the road. Emma’s shifts had gotten harder and harder over the years, more anger, more pain, and the internet had barely any information about early childhood shifts. Jack hadn’t been concerned, saying Johnny had the same issues at that age–the only difference was that Johnny was a feral little thing that used to sneak out during the full moon and pick off the strays of London. Emma couldn’t bring herself to squash an ant, much less devour a cat or dog–but then Johnny hadn’t had much human influence, at least, not until you and Tommy.

“Emma, tell your Ma that if she doesn’t eat, we’ll have to feed her ourselves,” Johnny said. He was smiling, but his eyes were sharp.

Emma sniffed at your sandwich. “You didn’t have breakfast either, Mum,” she said accusingly. “You always tell me food is good for your brain.”

You cocked an eyebrow at her. “Maybe I’m not hungry.”

“Eat, kitty,” Johnny said, his tone rougher as if you were one of his soldiers. “You look dead on yer feet.” You took a bite, just to appease them. You could still feel the small, stinging cuts his claws had scraped on your jaw.

#soap x reader #john soap mactavish #cod x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #cod mw3 #soap mactavish

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ifancyharry · 1 year

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Everything I want

I was just in need of some angst with boxrry (and also dad to be!!!), so why not??? lmk if you liked it 🌷

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, blood, panic attacks

Word count: 3k

YN knew something was wrong when the clock struck midnight and Harry still hadn’t come home.

It wasn’t a secret, what he did on Thursdays, but the both of them dreaded starting that conversation, so YN pretended to be fine with it, and Harry tried to come home not too late and not too scratched up.

A couple of nights he’d come back bruised pretty badly, and despite his successful effort to not wake her up while he nursed his wounds, YN noticed something was wrong with him the morning after and begged him to stop. He pretended to listen, and for a while he even did, turning down his coach’s offers to fight, but nothing could match up to the thrill and adrenaline boxing gave him, so he subtly started fighting again.

He didn’t hide it from her, he just told her he’d be careful and she went with it. What could she do? She had tried with everything she could to get him to stop, but if he didn’t want to, could she really force him?

Of course, the sleepless nights and anxiety she had to subdue weren’t nothing, but she never truly expressed how bad it got to him, so he couldn’t have known how much it was hurting her.

It all started with boxing. Harry needed to let out some tension he’d rack up over work and decided to get a gym membership. Once the coach saw how gifted he was with his punches, he made an offer Harry couldn’t find it in himself to refuse: he’d fight illegally every other week, yes, but for so much money he wouldn’t ever have to work a day in his life.

It’s not that he didn’t like his job, and in the past he had earned enough to sustain his needs, but he wasn’t alone now; he had a girlfriend, three months pregnant with his baby, and he knew he’d do anything in his power to give them the life they deserve. So he didn’t really see any other plausible option.

YN tried to calm her anxiety down with some breathing exercises she’d found online, but nothing worked, not until she heard the front door open, an hour later than expected, and the sound of Harry’s groans rumbling through the walls of their shared home.

She got up from the bed hastily, her heart beating so fast and loud she could feel it in her throat.

“Harry?” She called out from the hallway. It wasn’t the first time she dreaded seeing him, and she hated herself for that, but could you blame her? Every week she got scared something bad would happen and she’d lose the person she loved the most in the whole world.

“Don’t come in here, love, I’m fine.” She heard him say from the living room. His voice was masked with pain but he tried to make it as soft as he could, he didn’t want to scare her. He knew he should’ve just stayed over a friend’s for the night, but he wasn’t sure wether she was already asleep, and he knew if she’d wake up and not find him near her, she’d freak out, so he prayed she would listen to him and go back to bed.

Of course she didn’t, not after understanding how much pain he was in.

“Oh, Harry” she whispered, tears filling her eyes as soon as she took in the sight of him, scrunched up on the couch with his eyes closed, a hand clutching his stomach tightly.

“I told you not to come.” He hissed, “I’m fine. It not as bad as it looks.”

She hurried towards the couch and sat cross legged on the carpeted floor, stretching an arm before her to tilt his head up to get a better look at how badly he’d been injured.

She felt nauseous once he looked at her. Across his cheekbone, right under his eye, there was a dark blue bruise, the skin swollen and turgid, his pretty pink lips had tuned a red color and she couldn’t quite understand if the blood that ran across his lips was from his broken nose or from his bottom lip, that had a deep cut right in the middle of it, the thick blood dripping down till his chin.

She shifted her gaze from one eye to the other, not missing the deep gash across one of his eyebrows. She ghosted over his face with trembling fingers, and he couldn’t help but relax into her touch, his eyes fluttering close.

“Stay with me, baby” she whispered, thumbing gently over his eyelid.

He opened his eyes and once again begin to tell her he was fine, but she interrupted him with a shake of her head.

“Can you get up?” She questioned, her hand shifting down his shoulder and stopping at his bicep, which she squeezed lightly to gain his attention. He nodded and she helped him get off the couch, dragging his arm across her shoulders and hers down to his waist to guide him the best she could towards the bathroom in the living room. He tried not to lean too much of his weight on her, but he could feel himself struggling. Maybe it was as bad as it looked.

YN sat Harry on the edge of the bathtub once they reached the bathroom and ushered him once again to open his eyes and keep his attention on her as she took the first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink.

She ripped out a piece of cotton with trembling hands and soaked it with hydrogen peroxide, walking towards Harry. She settled between his open legs and took his chin between her thumb and index finger to tilt his head up.

She disinfected the cut on his eyebrow first, and Harry flinched as soon as the cotton swab touched the wounded skin. “I know, I know” she frowned, and he placed a hand on the side of her thigh to keep her closer to him, his fingers squeezing her plushy skin every time she swatted the cotton across his eyebrow.

She then stretched behind her and tossed the cotton in the bin, taking with her the wash cloth from the hanger on the wall. She wetted it with some warm water under the sink and then proceeded to gently clean the blood from his face.

Once she was done, Harry held the wash cloth against his nose to keep the blood from running. Some of it had fallen on his white shirt and she tugged at it, signaling him to take it off. In doing so, she noticed his knuckles were bruised and small still open cuts were splattered all across the skin too; she felt herself frown once again at the sight, the nausea hadn’t subdued at all, and it took everything in her took keep from throwing up, the sight of blood added to her pregnancy not making it any easier.

“God, Harry” she shook her head once she took in the sight of Harry’s naked torso. She knew the wounds weren’t exclusive to his face, but she never expected it to be this bad.

“I think we should go to the hospital” she sighed, somehow feeling defeated.

She couldn’t do this, she didn’t even know where to start.

“No, no,” he shook his head, tightening the grip on her tight, “no hospital, pet.”

She squeezed her eyes tightly before nodding her head, taking a big breath and reaching for the cotton and hydrogen peroxide once again.

She disinfected his cuts the best she could, and after his wounds were clean, she pressed two fingers on his worst bruises, to try and understand the extent of his injuries.

“Stop” he breathed out once she pressed a little harder on the skin on his ribs, “hurts too much.”

“Okay, okay” she whispered, closing her eyes once a particularly strong wave of nausea hit her.

“Let’s go to bed” Harry said after a while, leaning against her tummy and plastering a kiss against her subtle bump. It wasn’t that big yet, but he’d been affectionate with it from the very first time she’d told him she was pregnant. He believed their little one could feel the love all the way from inside her.

YN always looked at him with twinkly eyes and a heavy heart when he did that, but now, she couldn’t help but think if staying with Harry was really the best option for her and especially for their baby. Before, she had been selfish and tried to look the other way when she heard him come home after a fight or when she’d catch a glimpse of a fading bruise on his torso while showering together, but she couldn’t anymore. She had to think of her baby too.

What if Harry never stopped? What would happen then? When the baby was old enough to understand what his dad would do on Thursday nights?

She felt her anxiety rise at the bare thought.

“Let’s go to bed”, she repeated, swallowing the big lump that seemed trapped in her throat.

They walked to their bedroom in silence, Harry was able to carry himself this time, feeling a little better after she nursed him.

“I’m too tired to shower, pet” he said once they reached the bed, seeing as he still had a bit of dried blood on his hair and body that would inevitably get on the cleaned sheets. “But, if you want I can-“

“It’s okay, Harry”, she said sternly, “go to sleep.”

He eyed her briefly to see if she might change her mind, and when she didn’t, he lifted the duvet and got comfortable on the soft mattress, his warm face felt nice squished against the cold pillow, and he patted her side of the bed to signal her to get in bed with him.

She gave him a brief nod and walked towards the bed, first sitting on it and then snuggling under the duvet beside him. Harry draped an arm around her waist to bring her closer to his side, trying the best he could to not lean too much weight on his injured rib, and he splattered his hand against her belly, caressing the skin there with his fingertips.

“I love you, baby” he whispered against her back, nose buried in her hair, planting a loud kiss there.

“I love you” she said back, shutting her eyes tightly as she tried to ease her running mind.

She didn’t know what to do. She’d meant to speak to Harry, but she couldn’t get the words out, too busy worrying about his injuries. She thought he’d bring it up, that after seeing her so scared he’d just tell her he’d quit the fighting, but he didn’t, and all she was left with was laying in bed with her heart slamming hard against her chest.

With the passing of the hours, she felt as sleepless as ever and she debated wether she should get out of bed and take some sleeping pills, but she’d never discussed it with her doctor, so she didn’t know if she could this early in the pregnancy.

She tried to do some more breathing exercises as she’d done before, which had seemed to work, but she felt as if the air couldn’t go through her nose and reach her lungs.

After some minutes, the air she inhaled actually felt painful and she felt this painful weight on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She wanted to wake Harry but didn’t know how to, his heavy arm draped across her body felt suddenly suffocating to her, and she started feeling claustrophobic despite the big space of their shared bedroom.

Her chest heaved with every breath she took, but she felt it wasn’t enough, the air still couldn’t reach her lungs. She tried to move from Harry’s grip but he only squeezed her closer.

She planted a hand on her chest and she could feel her heart beating so fast against her chest she wondered wether she was having a heart attack.

She didn’t even realize she’d started crying, broken sobs rumbling in her throat, shaking her entire body.

“Pet, stop moving” Harry mumbled after a while, his eyes still closed. He couldn’t have possibly known what was going on, but she tried with every strength she had to kick her feet against his tight so he would at least open his eyes.

“YN?” He gasped, finally aware of her flustered state. He removed himself from his body and turned to switch on the lamp on his bedside table.

Despite the loss of his heavy arm, YN still couldn’t breathe, and at that point she really thought she was having a heart attack.

“Baby look at me,” he said, sitting on his knees on the bed and taking both her wrists in his hands, turning her towards him.

She looked at him with eyes glazed with fear, a subtle sweat had formed over her forehead and her cheeks were red and wet with salty tears.

She tried to take a gulp, but the air got caught in her throat and she chocked a little, letting out a cough to clear her throat.

“You have to breathe, okay?” He squeezed gently the skin of her wrists, trying to gain her attention the best he could, “Let’s take a big breath on three.”

“One, two…” he counted, and once he said “three”, they both took a big breath through the nose, holding it for a while and exhaling through the mouth after.

“Again” he said, and repeated the same process.

“You’re doing so good, baby”.

With every breath YN felt a little bit better; she began regaining the feeling in her hands and legs which were tingling just a moment before.

“Yeah, just like that. My good girl” he nodded, continuing with the breaths.

Once he saw she’d gotten the hang of it, he released her wrists from his hold and swiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. He then proceeded to plaster gentle kisses all across her face, starting from her cheekbones, to her nose, moving to her eyelids which she closed briefly to allow him to kiss her there, to her forehead, lingering his lips there for a while.

“Come back to me, yeah?” He mumbled against her skin, puckering his lips to plant another kiss there.

After he felt she’d calmed down, he withdrew from her forehead to look in her eyes, placing his hands on her knees to caress the skin gently, “What happened?” He asked, his tone soft but laced with worry, as he looked firmly in her eyes, his brows furrowed.

“It’s nothing” she mumbled, her voice coming out startled and broken, lowering her gaze on her intertwined hands sitting in her lap, avoiding the scrutinizing gaze of his eyes.

“A panic attack isn’t nothing.” He stated, seriously. “is it the first one you had?”

She didn’t know how to tell him he got her so worried she’d been having them once a week since he started fighting again.

“YN?” He urged, taking her chin between his fingers like she’d done with him in the bathroom.

She smiled sadly as she took in his wounded face once again, the blood had stopped but his bottom lip was swollen and the bruise on his cheekbone had turned a dark purple color.

“I’ve been having them a lot, recently.” She admitted, because honestly, she felt too tired to lie.

“What! Why didn’t you tell me!” He exclaimed, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Weren’t you thinking about the baby?”

She furrowed her eyebrows at that, feeling her anxiety turn into anger all of a sudden, how could he even ask her that?

“Of course I was!” She took a hold of his wrist and removed his hand from her face, turning her head sideways so she wouldn’t be facing him.

“You’re the one who couldn’t care less about the baby!” She snapped, “or about us!”

Harry widened his eyes at her words; he’d gotten accustomed to her mood swings, but he had to admit he felt a bit hurt. From his point of view, he was getting beat up every other week, just for them.

“You’re being so ungrateful” he said, shaking his head.

“Yeah? How!”

“Look at my face!” He exclaimed, pointing a finger toward his wounded face, “do you think I like coming home like this? I’m doing this for you and for the baby!”

YN furrowed her eyebrows and turned her head to look at him, “why?”

“Because I want to give you the life you both deserve. I want to give you everything you want.”

She looked at him bewildered for a second, then her gaze softened and she raise a hand to brush against his cheek: “I already have everything I want, Harry.”

He smiled sadly at her, leaning against her hand and turning his face to plant a kiss against the inside of her hand. “What about the money?”

“I don’t care about the money. I could never care about the money.”

He sighed at her words and she continued, “quit boxing. We’ll be fine. Our baby is already so loved, Harry.”

He smiled and took her face in his hands, planting a soft kiss against her lips: “yeah, — he nodded against her lips — they are.”

“Promise me.” She whispered, “promise you’ll stop.”

“I’ll” he started, planting another kiss on her lips, “stop” another kiss, “I promise”, he finished, sealing that promise with another kiss.

YN felt finally at ease, her anxiety long forgotten, and she took her time to show Harry how much she loved him, kissing every wound on his body with her lips, hoping she could somehow heal him with her love, because she knew he was one to keep his promises. And he did. He never once answered a call from his coach, and when the baby was born, he understood what YN had meant, he, too, had everything he wanted.

#harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harrystyles #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #boxer!harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #dad to be!harry styles

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point-8 · 1 year

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SAY IT! FEAT:diluc, kaeya and zhongli

DILUC

okay...he doesn't get it

he goes through all 5 stages of grief before you tell him that it was just a prank

he thinks pranks are pointless

didn't find it funny 🥲 "are you working in the tavern tonight luc'?" you were both getting ready, it was your day off so you were still in bed, having plans on returning to sleep once he left. diluc was in his base layer of clothing, a simple white collared shirt, and some black pants. "i should be...so ill be home late. don't stay up" diluc was now moving onto the second layer of his work attire, a dark vest with gold-color buttons. "wasn't planning on it, plus i might go have dinner with a friend tonight, so ill be in town if you need me tonight." he looked so handsome in the full-size mirror buttoning up the vest as he stole glances back at you. and soon enough you crashed back into the soft duvet and tried to get back to sleep "darling ill be off, i love you." he walked over to the bed, expecting a groggy 'i love you too' , but he heard nothing. diluc knew you were awake, nobody could fall asleep that fast. seeing your slight smile, he knew you were up to something. "i love you?" he tried to lightly shake you, seeing if you were just half-asleep and couldn't respond. but instead of an 'i love you too' he just got a little laughter "what's so funny? do you not return my feelings anymore?" "you really can't take a prank luc'?!" you sat up from bed, wrapping your arms around him "of course i love you too, how could i not?" you just heard him huff which, in turn, made you smile a bit "you're getting too much like kaeya" you heard him quietly grumble, but you knew he couldn't stay mad at you for long.

KAEYA

he'll just do it back to you

he knows it's a prank, you're a little to obvious

kaeya always knows ways for him to get back at you, if thats making you pay or just doing the same thing to you, he will always get you back "tonight was really fun kaeya, thank you!" you two were walking hand-in-hand back to the shared house. it was overall a great night, kaeya took you to dinner and then walked you around mondstat, showing you secret places only knights knew about. "of course it was, you spent it with me." with a slight chuckle, he grabbed you closer as you walked up the steps and unlocked the door "god..im so tired" kaeya groaned and whined as he crashed on the couch to catch his breath and rest his eyes. "im gonna get changed ok?" you went down and kissed his forehead as the bluenette hummed in agreement. and five minutes later, you hear footsteps making their way up the stairs. not even caring to shower. he just stripped down to his boxers and jumped into bed with you. "you're disgusting." you slightly pushed his head away "but you still love me, don't you?" he managed to get closer to your face and pulled your cheeks, cooing at you "kaeya im not a baby, stop" you swat his hands away and got back into your former position to fall asleep. "well in that case, i love you darling see you in the morning." he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, resting his head in the corner of your neck. "i said i love you." he grumbled, you could tell he was tired too "i don't love people who smell" "fine then, i don't love bitches." you let out a gasp as he took his hands off you and rolled to the other side of the bed, leaving you slightly cold. "god.. fine kaeya i love you too." now it was your turn to deal with his bullshit, and he wasn't going to give up anytime soon.

ZHONGLI

someone please help him

you have to walk him through every single joke you make

this man has some accent ass humor tf

he would take it to heart if you don't say you love him (please make him feel better rn) stirring from your sleep, you heard footsteps, doors opening and closing, and running water. you never knew why zhongli got up so early, it was just a habit. it's not like you minded, at this hour anyone could fall asleep so easily. checking the clock above the dresser. the hands pointed to 4 and 9...it was 4:45 you groaned and tucked your head back under the blankets as you heard the water turn off and zongli enter the room again. "did i wake you?" "no no" you answered from under the blankets, voice groggy since it hadn't been used in a few hours "just woke up on accident, you keep doing what you were doing." "well, in that case, would you like to go on a walk with me this morning? it's lovely outside. all the flowers are blooming" the thought of even moving seemed miserable "it's good for health, it gets blood moving-" "maybe later?" you were already getting ready to head back to sleep. and going on a walk with him was a death trap, all he would do is take loops around and tell you every memory that happened. "well then. ill be on my way darling, i love you" he walked over and pushed your hair back to give you a kiss. then just waited above you. "what?" you said, opening your eyes to look at him, stifling a burst of laughter "have your feelings gone away for me y.n? you usually say i love you back. have i done something to upse-" "zhongli...it was a prank" "how is that a prank? you just sounded like i've made you upset." "it's funny though." "no it's not" "ok dear, i love you too" you took him into a big hug to wish him off, also as an apology. but once that door was closed, you busted out laughing. zhongli might've been one of the densest men you've ever met in your whole life. but it was also cute.

HELP BRO I HAVENT POSTED IN LIKE A MONTH PLEASE FORGIVE ME anws school is almost out (kms) if anyone has any requests pleaasssseee send them in im running out of ideas😭

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tarotwithavi · 2 years

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Pick a picture : messages from the fairies 🧚‍♀️

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

Short note : this is a general reading take what resonates and leave the rest ;) and please ignore any typos. And remember Fairies are always protecting you!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:**:･ﾟ☆

Pile 1

Hello pile 1 ! The fairies want to tell you that prepare yourself for upcoming abundance!! You are becoming your own boss and being financially independent. Your finances are improving . But for that you have to release any mental blockages you may have. You might become the leader of a group project. You are attracting new opportunities for yourself. You were in the hermit mode for sometimes now you are opening up yourself in front of others and coming out of your comfort zone. You are being more outgoing . You are attracting lots of luck in the meantime. You are healing and. The happy fairy of sunshine is lighting up your life so enjoy!! You are going to be more creative and bring many ideas to life. If you've been busy between to works you are going to finish them soon. You are going to perform something soon and I see a success? I got dancer maybe some sort of competition? You are going to receive a love message from someone soon. This person can be from LA. This person is very charming. Some of you are going to experience love at first sight!! Rose, 777 , 2222 , it is meant to be, make the effort, these are some of the messages I heard.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 2

Hello pile 2 ! The fairies are telling you to let go of that toxic relationship or obsession. There are many good things that want to enter your life but you being obsessed with other things aren't allowing them to enter. I got a feeling that someone here is extremely obsessed with a celebrity , please let them go. Your soul mate is waiting for you it's not them. Your soul mate wants to enter your life but you are too attached to others and it's hurting them . You need to nurture yourself and set healthy boundaries. The nature is giving you signs please acknowledge them. Nature talks to us continually we just need to open our hearts and minds. The fairies are telling you to ground yourself. Do you have a habit of collecting rocks? Because that's amazing! The fairies are telling you that you don't have to know everything all The time. 1111/111 , red spider lily, South Asian beauty, power, American, poker face, chubby cheeks, brunette, blue eyes these are some of the messages I heard.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ｡･:*:･ﾟ★･:*:･･:*:･:*:･ﾟ･:*:

Pile 3

Hello pile 3 ! First of all if you had an argument with a friend the fairies are telling you to please talk to them, this is only a misunderstanding. Fairies and humans alike need friends. Now is the time to seek out those who will support and encourage you on your journey to fulfill your dreams. The fairies want you to find balance between your work , rest and playtime. To take a power nap. Don't let your ego and pride get in the way of your success. The fairies are preparing something new and magical for you. Look forward to new changes. You are attracting lots of luck for yourself. You are getting clarification on your situation. You are transforming into your new self . I see you accepting you inner child and being playful and childlike. For some of you I suggest you tondo inner work bring out you wounded inner child. Please accept yourself just as your are and you don't need to fit in someone else's box. Don't ever change yourself for others. And stop staying up late it's is not good your health. Take proper rest and give yourself enough time to Sleep. Colored hair, Vietnam, London, secret admirer, celebrity, carnation, and a big yess! These are some of the messages I heard.

✧༺♥༻✧༺♥༻✧༺♥༻✧༺♥༻✧

Note: for paid personal reading please dm mew

#tarot cards #tarot reading #tarot #oracle reading #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a pile #pac tarot #pac reading #free readings #ask game #free tarot #tarot witch #tarotblr

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starluvrsblog · 9 months

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“I’ll kill you.”

Eijirou Kirishima x F!Reader

Summary : Kirishima protects you at a highschool party, like the gentleman he is🤭

• CW - Drinking, attempted SA, manipulation, violence •

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“Well I think we should go!” {Y/N} mumbles, getting close to her mirror, drawing on her eyes with the black eyeliner in between her hand.

A frown creeps onto Eijirou’s lips, his brows furrowing as he sighs. “{Y/N} I don’t think it’s a good idea to go to a party, especially with Shiketsu students going. It’s like you’re asking for trouble.” You roll your eyes, your friend doesn’t trust Shiketsu students, especially after one of the students tried to ask you out.

Being the stubborn girl that your are, you continue to slip on a black jean skirt, and a grey long sleeved shirt. “Well if we’re going, could you atleast wear somethin’ less..” he eyes your figure “..eye catching.” Whipping your head around to the spikey toothed boy, you shot him a weird look. “Sorry, you look great.” He showed a soft smile, looking away once again as he sat up from your bed. Kirishima is already kind enough on his own, but he seemed way to protective to just be in a ‘friend way’. He would never admit having feelings for you though, the thoughts in the back of his head made him think it would destroy your friendship.

You walked up to him, and grabbed a handful of his red hair, he kept it down tonight, out of character for him. “You need to dye your hair soon, or people will know your little secret!” He laughed, “yeah I know.. maybe tomorrow?” He hated the idea of you and Mina both knowing his so called ‘terrible secret’ but it was too late to care anymore, it’s not like you’d tell anyone.

[ KIRISHIMA POV ]

After {Y/N} grabs her phone, she grabs onto my arm as we head down to the common area. I ever so slightly stay behind her, making sure she’s always in my line of vision. Kaminari and Shinsou spot us and begin to approach us, “lookin’ good, doll!” He puts a thumbs up, winking at {Y/N} I hide the overwhelming feeling of.. jealousy? Not like she’s my property, it just didn’t feel right for Kaminari to do that.

“Why don’t you boys walk with us to the party? The more the merrier!” {Y/N} says with such excitement, what’s got her so eager for these two to walk with us? It’s whatever, they are our friends and she’s just being friendly. “Uh.. hell yeah!” Kaminari wraps one arm around {Y/N}‘s shoulders, the other around Shinsou’s, I smile as we walk out of the dormitory. As the minutes go by, I keep checking Kaminari’s arm, just to make sure he wasn’t too touchy with her.

—————————————————————

[ Y/N POV ]

After around 15 minutes of chatting with our little group, and once a while seeing a displeased Eijirou. We arrive at the doorstep of Shindo’s house, I feel so.. anxious, I only agreed to go so I could stop being such a homebody. I squeeze tightly onto Kirishima’s white t-shirt sleeve, it’s loud, music and voices blaring as colorful lights fill the large home. Hitoshi and Sparky make their way around the home, leaving Eijirou and I alone, I didn’t mind though, if I were to be hanging out with anybody here it’s most certainly be him.

I saw Sero approaching us, followed by Mina and Ochako, “{Y/N} ! You actually came, and managed to bring Kirishima with you, good for you girl!!” Mina yells through the loud music, you smile and look away when you notice Shindo. Unlinking your arms, you walk over to Shindo without warning the others, you wanted to thank him for inviting you to the party, Kirishima thought it was fishy since Shindo had just broke up Nakagame. “Shindo!” You waved your hand in his direction, “Heyyy, ya actually showed up!” Shindo puts his arm around you, reeking of alcohol. You and the Shiketsu student weren’t really close, but would text every few weeks to check up on eachother, he lowkey saved you during the licensing exam, so you owed him one.

He offered you a drink, “why not?” this was out of character for you, only drinking on very special occasions, as you grabbed a red cup from one of Shindo’s friends, Kirishima was looking everywhere for you. He had lost you in the crowd in the matter of seconds, scanning everywhere he just couldn’t seem to spot you at all. He was frantic, always worrying especially with your anxiety, scared something might happen to you. You on the other hand, we’re living it up, you seemed to be a lightweight which wasn’t… normal? You felt different, but honestly you really didn’t give two shits.

Dancing around the crowd you see Shinsou spot you again, “the hell? what are you doing {Y/N}” The stern voice of the purple haired boy startles you, “Hitoshiii~ I forgot you were here” falling into his chest. “Are you.. drunk?” Holding you up and trying to guide you toward the couch, “HA! No w-way~ I’m just having fun” He knew you were lying, stumbling more than usual, dancing so.. different. Kirishima is still searching for you, while Shinsou tries to talk to you he’s also looking for the redhead to take you home before anything can go wrong. When he looks away, you take the chance to book it back into the large crowd when you crash back into Shindo, “{Y/N}, there you are..” he got closer to your face, bending over, meeting you eye-to-eye. “..been lookin’ all over for you” giggling, you begin to dance again, slowly swaying your hips from side to side, he grabs ahold of your hips, pulling your bodies closer to eachother. “Y’know.. me and Nakagame broke up and..” He got even closer, his mouth next to your ear, “..been pretty lonely” hands wandering, the left on your ass, the right guiding up to your chest, lightly squeezing your body. “Shindo.. I c..can’t do that, this fe..eels wrong..” You try to pull away, but he’s got the advantage.

[ KIRISHIMA POV ]

‘where is she.’ I’m panicking, i’ve been looking for her for 20 minutes, she left her phone with me. I can’t spot her, Shinsou told me she was drunk and slipped out of his sight. “What the hell we’re you thinking? Why would you let your eyes off of her you idiot.” I didn’t mean to snap on him, he didn’t do anything entirely wrong.

I was a tad tipsy myself, but I had all of my facilities unlike {Y/N}, word had gotten around that I was looking for her, so I was relieved to hear Uraraka’s voice shout for me, I turn around, “Kirishima! I just saw {Y/N} with Shindo, he was holding her wrist, and dragging her outside to his backyard.” I was livid, what was he planning on doing to her, I shove through everyone to make my way to his backyard.

[ 2ND PER. POV ]

Your mind was in a haze, letting Shindo lead you to the couch in front of the fire pit in his backyard. “Shindoo.. I wanna.. go back h..home.” You whine, trying to get away from him, yet again to zero avail he sits you down. “I see the way you look at me..” he places soft kisses on your neck, “..you want this, need this as much as I do {Y/N}”, you don’t know what to do. You put your hands on his chest and bang repeatedly, nothing. “I can’t, Yo.. I don’t want y..you~ I wan..wan’t Eijirou” He ignores you, if anything that made it worse, jealousy filled him with rage as he scoffs, and continues to grope you.

You hear the sliding of the glass for leading back into the house shift open with such urgency, it was hard to see but you could make up Eijirou’s figure, locking his eyes with yours as Shindo was still feeling you up. That was it, something inside him snapped, anger and pure jealousy explodes within him, as he quickly stomps over to Shindo, grabbing the back of his hair and throwing him to the ground. “Get the hell off of her.”

Kirishima gets on top of Shindo, and begins to beat him senseless. Kaminari and Shinsou run outside, after seeing this happen all from the kitchen, “Kirishima stop it! What the fuck are you doing!” It takes both of the boys to get Kirishima off of the beaten, bloody, black haired boy, “She’s mine. I’ll kill you, I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU YOU GOT THAT?” He screams, pointing his bloody finger at Shindo, before turning his attention towards you.

[ KIRISHIMA POV ]

I could’ve fucking murdered him, who the hell does he think he is. I hold her face in my bloody hands, “{Y/N}.. {Y/N} are you okay? Did he hurt you, did that fucker touch you..” She shakes her head, I felt a slight wave of relief, examining her figure. Her shirt was pulled up, no marks though, she wasn’t exposed, I pull her shirt down and hold her. Kaminari and Shinsou had dragged that sleezebag into his house, I never want to let go of her.

“I’m never letting you go, not ever {Y/N}.” I whisper, picking her up, “E..eiji.. I love you~” I freeze, my heart skips a beat. I put her face in the crook of my neck as I begin to walk with her again, I shoved past the crowd once more and grab our shit before walking out of that disgusting house of a douchebag who tried to hurt my {Y/N}. The house had gone silent, whispers surrounding us as I walk out of the door, immediately heading back to the dorms.

—————————————————————

[ 2ND PERSON POV ]

You were practically passed out, Kirishima had reached the common area, you could hear faint sounds of commotion, muffled questions, but you weren’t coherent enough to understand anything. They had already heard about what went down between Kiri and Shindo, Kirishima ignores them, walking up to your room, holding you tighter by the second. He opens the door to your room, kicking it closed, and lays you gently onto your bed, taking your boots off, and then his own. He crawls into bed next to you, covering the two of you with the blankets, grabbing ahold of you once more. He holds you tight and secure as he pets your hair as you finally let yourself go, slowly falling asleep.

“I’m not ever letting go {Y/N}, I love you.. and i’ll ruin anyone who gets in my way.”

—————————————————————

[A/N]

omg?? hello first ever fanfic, i’ll get better i swear y’all please don’t flame me too much, sorry for being such a hater on our boy Shindo 🙏

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halfrican-heat · 1 year

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Freakum (A. Levinson) (1/2)

SUMMARY: The reader has been seeing Ari Levinson-- her dad's best friend and her ex-boyfriend's uncle-- in secret. Lately, he hasn't been giving her the attention she needs. So, what happens when she cuts ties with her toxic ex and his mysterious uncle entirely? (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Curvy!Reader x DBF!Ari Levinson; Black!Reader x Ari Levinson

Warnings: Mild angst; Cursing; Age-gap (Reader is of legal age); Convoluted relationship; Toxic ex; Allusions to minor character death; AFAB body descriptors; Secret relationship

A/N: Hey, how y'all doing? Y'all good? Enjoy part one to this request I got for DBF!Ari. It's not exactly what I was asked for, but I do hope this suffices. Stay tuned for part two! Also, the time stamps on the phone are WRONG AF, I forgot to fix them. I'll remember for next time lmao. Beta'd by my bestie <3 -Lyv

Song Inspo: Freakum Dress - Beyoncé

Masterlist

With a soft laugh, you set aside your phone. You were sure to get an earful from Tamisha in the car, but until then you were going to finish getting ready. Taking in your appearance, you swiped a pinky-nude across your lips before painting on a pink tinted gloss. Your deep brown liner blended with the softer tones and created a chocolatey contrast to the pink colors on your lips. Smirking, you started to pull your locs into an updo.

You had done a soft beat to your face, accentuating your eyes with deep browns and glittery gold accents. The liner you did was sharp enough to draw blood and you were living for it. Your lashes were sitting almost as well as your tits in the salacious little dress you had chosen for the evening.

You hadn’t worn this particular dress since your freshman year of college. In the four years since then, you had gained a little more weight. When you pulled the dress out, you weren’t even sure it would suit your new body let alone fit. Somehow, though, the little garment surprised you in more ways than one.

Short and backless, the cheetah print dress clung to your curves in the most sinful way possible. Cleavage spilled from the ruched, cowled neckline and the hem curved just below your bottom, accentuating the bounty you carried behind you. The heels you had chosen to compliment the dress did wonders for your legs, making them look as if they went on for miles.

Needless to say, you sex on wheels and ready to wreak havoc.

Your phone vibrated on the counter, probably Tamisha alerting you that she was waiting outside. Ignoring it, you finished tying up your hair and packed a small purse. Moments later, the phone vibrated again in rapid succession. Scoffing quietly, you shook your head at your friend’s persistence and snatched the phone up.

“This bitch,” You mumbled to yourself. “Not her tryna be on time for once.”

Another vibration rang out. You smacked your teeth.

“And then tryna rush me. No, ma’am!”

You prepared to shoot off a text telling your friend to “hold her damn horses” only to freeze at the name floating across your screen. Opening the messages, you bit your lip. A hot flush ran through your body as you weighed your options, uncertain of what to do. Annoyance as well as arousal coursed through you at his sudden interest after he ghosted you for three weeks.

See, Ari Levinson wasn’t exactly a man that could be ignored.

Levinson was a powerhouse in architecture. At the age of twenty-three, he started working for Milton Family Construction in Macon, Georgia. What was once just a family business soon became a fierce competitor in the world of construction. The addition of Levinson to the company’s team not only won them lucrative contracts with big name corporations but ushered in a new era of innovative thinking. Levinson’s ability to conceptualize near impossible blueprints and turn them into reality created various opportunities for the company to grow and expand their reach. It only made sense that when George Milton retired, he placed his company in Levinson’s care-- the first non-family member to inherit Milton Family Construction.

Eventually, Levinson set his sights on expanding the company to other parts of Georgia and surrounding Southern areas. Of course, however, Levinson’s constructional genius had people from all over the world seeking him out to spearhead various projects-- from commercial construction to abstract residential floor plans. By his late twenties, Levinson had become one of the richest men in the country and, now in his early forties, has finally decided to settle into partial retirement.

Yes, Ari Levinson was not a man that could be ignored. But your reasoning for such a thought was drastically different from those of the “construction” kind.

Simply put, Ari Levinson was a fox. A silver one at that, with grays in his hair and beard that made you weak in the knees. He had a megawatt smile that dazzled the socks off you and a sexy, rumbling voice that scratched an itch you never knew you had. He spoke with you, took an interest in the things you liked. He lit you up inside in ways you couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

And he was your father’s best friend.

The two went way back, to a time before corporate architecture and multi-million dollar constructions companies. Childhood friends who grew up down the street from one another and happened to be in the same classes up until college. It was a tale as old as time. So, as a result, when your father settled down in Savannah to raise his little family, it only made sense for Ari to find himself a permanent home there as well. After all, your father was the only family Ari had left.

Aside from his pain-in-the-ass nephew, Darius. Who was also your ex.

Talk about convoluted, right?

But none of that mattered anyway because, as far as you were concerned, Ari Levinson and his dumbass nephew could burn in hell. One was a narcissistic serial cheater and the other…well. That was entirely too much for you to unpack in one sitting.

So, you decided to put all that shit behind you. All you wanted was to get stupid drunk and post a few thirst traps. No more, no less.

With a sigh, you put your phone in your purse and took one last look in the mirror. Ignoring your vibrating purse, you headed downstairs and paused at the bottom. You took a moment to observe your father. He was resting in his easy chair, watching a football game on the television. Well, more like sleeping through a football game. You smiled fondly, walking over to cover him with the afghan your mama knitted years ago. Your heart clenched painfully at the thought.

He startled a little before relaxing at your presence, humming quietly in acknowledgement.

“Don’t wait up, papa. I’m going out with Tam,” you said softly, kissing his head. “I’ma spend the night at her place.”

“Alright, shug,” He drawled, shifting slightly. “Be careful.”

“You know I will, pa.”

Patting his shoulder gently, you crossed over to the hall closet and grab a stylish jacket to match your outfit and defend against the cool, fall evening. Your father’s voice called out moments later and you felt your back to go ramrod straight at his words.

“By the way, Levinson asked ‘bout you a little while ago.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Your cheeks burned and you prayed your father couldn’t hear the nerves in your voice.

“Yeah. Just checkin’ in. Said he ain’t heard nothin’ ‘bout you in a while. Wondered if you and that boy was still seein’ each other. I tol’ him that sonofabitch nephew o’ his could kick rocks.”

“Bet he got a hoot out of that,” You said awkwardly, shrugging your jacket on.

“Sure did. Laughed his lilly-white ass off.” Your papa replied. “He was just seein’ how we were doing with everything. Ever since, well, anyway. He was just checking in.”

You watched him for a moment as he fiddled with the afghan, his fingers delicately tracing the designs woven into the blanket. Another pang ran through your chest.

“Yeah...that was…that was nice of him,” You replied slowly. “Didn’t have to do that.”

"Yeah, well he was fond of your mother. She always made him feel like part of the family."

Silence hung awkwardly in the air. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling like your skin was being pricked by a thousand needles. Your father stroked the afghan, almost in a daze. You pulled the hem of your dress down self-consciously. He looked over at you, his eyes heavy and seemed to want to speak. Uncertainty flashed in his eyes. He went back to quietly stroking the afghan muttering, “Yep. Good ol’, Levinson.”

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Well, I gotta go! I see Tam’s headlights out the window. Love you, bye!”

Without waiting for a response, you dashed out the front door and into the cold air of the night. Of course, you hadn’t actually seen Tam’s lights through the window. So, you were standing outside waiting for her frequently late ass to show up. You huffed, taking a seat on the porch. That girl couldn’t get nowhere on time-- even if her damn life depended on it.

You pulled out your phone, checking to see if she had texted. Instead, you were greeted to several missed calls from Ari and two from Darius. At that moment, a new message from Ari popped up on your screen. Hesitating briefly, you opened the text.

You smirked at the message. You were riling him up, and when Ari was riled up...well, it always ended up rather interesting for you. Deciding to push your luck, you quickly responded before you could second guess yourself.

There was a brief lull in the conversation. A full minute passed, making you anxious. Then, he finally answered. Scoffing at his reply, you shot back your response.

Then, you turned your phone without a second thought. Pocketing it, you allowed a smug grin to overtake your face. The headlights of Tamisha’s car served as the spotlight for the devious plan taking center stage in your mind. If Ari wanted to ghost you, and come back three weeks later like he owned the place, then two could play that game. The next time you saw Ari, you were going to have him begging on his knees for you.

Little did you know that “next time” would be in a matter of hours.

A/N: It took forever to get these pictures formatted properly. I hope y'all enjoyed. Stay tuned!

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 2 months

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The Arcana HCs: Portia's Birthday

~ sorry this is late, friends!! - brainrot ~

Oh boy. There is so much you could do, and so many people who want to help you do it.

First, there's the Countess, who would happily organize an event to celebrate one of her dearest friend's birthdays

Then, there's her older brother and honorary grandmother, who could easily mobilize half the South End to throw some kind of massive block party complete with unlimited barbecue

And that's not even taking into account the fact that she's friends with well over half of the Palace staff, and fondly regarded by quite a few persons of nobility from their frequent visits

If that wasn't enough, knowing Portia, she's also not afraid to seize an opportunity to spend time with her community. You're not the only person making plans for her birthday

The question isn't if you have the resources or manpower to throw her a party (you have almost half the city), the question is how you can make those plans without her finding out

Of course, the first order of business on Portia's birthday morning is to sleep in. Between the morning sunlight peeking in, the birds chirping in the garden, and her fiery curls spilling across her pillow, it feels like a dream out of a fairy tale

You know she enjoys making food for people, but on a day off like this, you don't want her to worry about cooking or dishes at all. The bakers at the palace send an amazing spread of pastries to your door instead, and the two of you end up snacking on them in bed

Sitting across the kitchen table from a well-rested, bright-eyed Portia, dusting pastry crumbs off of her frilly nightgown while she sips her tea with one hand and pets Pepi in her lap with the other

"So when does our adventure start, MC? Didn't you ask me to keep today free?"

The sparkle in her wide blue eyes and excited, curious smile puts the stars to shame. You can hear her humming and giggling as she gets ready for the day while you clean up the few dishes

Pepi, the loving kitty, has agreed to be your wingcat for the day. When Portia's not looking, you tie a housekey and a note to her collar and bundle your partner out the door before she can see it

The morning is both fun and slightly stressful, with all the verbal dodging and explaining you have to do. Thanks to your late breakfast, you have hours before she'll be ready for lunch

But why are half of her favorite food vendors not set up in the marketplace today? Why does she keep seeing South Enders headed towards the Palace, of all places?

She's not stupid. You can tell that she can tell that something is going on, and you know that she knows that you know why that is

The one thing you have working in your favor is that, unfortunately like her brother, Portia doesn't see herself as an important figure in the lives of those she loves. She doesn't realize it's for her

After a morning of wandering around, hunting for new alleyways and undiscovered shortcuts, you finally bring her back home for lunch. The Palace and its gardens are unusually calm as you walk through - until you get close to the cottage clearing

To say Portia is surprised is an understatement. It looks like all of Vesuvia is there, from the Countess herself to the little kid she likes to buy paper flowers from down at the docks

There's colorful banners in the trees, a massive grill set up far away from her carefully-tended garden vegetables, and trestle tables piled with contributions from everyone in attendance

And, true to the request you put in the note with Pepi, Nadia has ensured that the door to the cottage stays locked so neither of you has the stress of muddy footprints getting tracked through your house

Portia, of course, is too surprised to speak. Her reaction includes a fierce kiss for you, a bear hug for Mazelinka and Nadia, and a playful fist to Julian's gut for keeping secrets from her

The party lasts all afternoon into the early sunset. Portia's plate never gets empty and her lap piles high with homemade gifts and sentimental trinkets

The little "thank you" speech she gives everyone prompts her brother to make a speech of his own about her, which of course Nadia has to outdo. It quickly devolves into sharing the most "Portia being Portia" memories that everyone has

You will never be able to look at a sash, a shovel, or a fish the same way again

The party ends as everyone begins packing up to go home and start their dinner. Those living further away leave first, but Nadia, Julian, and Mazelinka stay behind to have a small supper with you

Yes, supper is Mazelinka's homemade soup, and yes, Nadia is deeply impressed by how good it is

The five of you stay up later than normal, looking out at the trampled grass and the miraculously preserved garden, sharing drinks and chattering until the moon is high in the sky

When Portia falls asleep that night, it's in the arms of the person who loves and sees her, after a day full of reminders of how important and appreciated she is

This does not stop Pepi from letting all her zoomies out at 5 AM the next morning, or from dragging in a dead mouse as an apology and belated birthday offering

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #portia devorak #portia the arcana

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agentstovring · 2 months

Text

Know No Shame

Title: Know No Shame

Pairing: Arasha/Brianna Boho (Smosh)

Rating: E for Explicit

Notes: This started as a stupid joke I told Snel, then turned into a short crack fic, and ended up being an earnest and smutty thing of its own.

You can also find this on Ao3

Arasha was a huge fan of late call times. Whenever the call time was later than 10 a.m., the morning felt ripe with possibilities; she could go to the gym before work; she could clean her apartment; she could make her own healthy lunch to bring to the office. Not that she ever did any of that, of course; in reality, late call times just meant feeling less bad about staying up late watching reality TV.

She was never going to be motivated like Shayne, going to the gym at the ass crack of dawn to lift weights and listen to audio books; or organized like Selina, who somehow left every room tidier than she found it; or dedicated like Garrett, bringing in vegan lunches full of colorful veggies.

Instead, she came barreling into the Smosh offices at 10.02 a.m. on a Tuesday, officially two minutes late to an already late call time. It was no secret that most of the cast members had a loosey goosey relationship with time; but Arasha was still technically one of the new kids, and she was still trying to show that she respected the schedule. Thankfully, she wasn’t last to arrive, and once she’d dropped her stuff off at her desk, she headed to the kitchen for coffee.

Late call times allowed plenty of time to swing by a Starbucks on the way to the office; but did she do that? No. She slept an extra 15 minutes instead. She’d regretted making that decision countless times, and today was no different. The coffee at Smosh was excellent; even after they’d run out of My Favorite Coffee, Ian made sure they only stocked the good stuff.

However, the mug situation was dire, as most of the office had started bringing their own mugs from home. This meant that the mugs that belonged to the company rarely got replaced when they were inevitably broken, and these days there were few survivors left in the kitchen cupboard. Especially for those arriving late, as the people with early call times had already helped themselves.

Arasha was preparing for disappointment as she entered the kitchen, but what she actually got was quite the opposite. A well-shaped ass only half-covered by a pair of black short shorts; and long legs in fishnet tights and thigh-high boots with a killer heel. Then – as the owner of the beforementioned ass and legs stood up fully – long, shiny hair so perfectly platinum blonde that Arasha was briefly blinded by it.

Brianna Boho turned around, giving Arasha an eyeful of her perfectly round boobs fighting gravity in a red, corset-like top. Arasha’s eyes snapped up to look her in the eyes instead, trying desperately to not look like a deer caught in headlights when Brianna spotted her.

“Hey, Arash,” she said, sounding annoyed. “Are there actually no mugs in this entire office? If Smosh can’t even afford dishware, I’m seriously worried about my day rate.”

Arasha hadn’t quite gotten used to Brianna – in fact, she failed to see how anyone could, between her radiant beauty and outrageous personality. Not to mention, Brianna was freelance, so she wasn’t at the offices often enough to be a familiar presence. Whenever she caught herself ogling Brianna, Arasha would tell herself that her crush was just a short-lived infatuation; that she was like a kid wanting a shiny new toy.

She tried to convince herself that if Brianna were a salaried employee and permanent fixture in the office, it would be all the exposure therapy Arasha needed to not get so flustered around her. Sometimes she almost believed it.

Realizing that Brianna was still looking at her expectantly, Arasha cleared her throat awkwardly and nodded. “Mugs. Not easy to come by in this office.”

She folded her arms over her chest, then reconsidered and put her hands in her pockets, reconsidered again and let her arms hang uselessly by her sides. She clenched her fists to fight the urge to fold her arms again.

Brianna raised a perfect eyebrow. “So... No mugs?”

Arasha felt her armpits start to sweat. The awkwardness in her own voice was like nails on a chalkboard when she heard herself say, “Let me find one for you.”

Before Brianna could respond, Arasha rushed out of the kitchen, cursing her own weirdness all the way to the bullpen. She walked up to the first person she saw, which happened to be Ian.

“Good morning, Arasha,” he said, barely looking up from his phone. He was holding a thermal travel mug.

“Mugs,” Arasha said with the immediacy of a doctor in an ICU.

“Mugs was my father, please, call me Ian,” Ian said. “You look stressed, what’s going on?”

“There are no more mugs in the kitchen, and I need a mug. Ideally two mugs. Where can I find a mug?”

Ian seemed to sense that another joke would not be well-received and said, “I left my thermal at home yesterday, so I used one from here; I think it’s still in my office.”

“Thank you!” Arasha all but sprinted away from him.

Ian sipped his coffee. “Kids these days. They love mugs.”

Arasha did indeed find a mug in Ian’s office; it said SHOOT DOOD on it, and there was a bit of cold coffee left at the bottom, but Arasha carried it like it was invaluable treasure.

She reentered the kitchen slightly out of breath, holding the mug aloft. Brianna lit up.

“Oh, yay, you found one!”

“I did,” Arasha said and took the mug to the sink. “It’s dirty, though, let me clean it for you.”

“You don’t have to do that; you know I like it dirty,” Brianna giggled, then looked serious. “I’m just kidding; I would not actually drink from someone’s dirty mug. Or I guess that would depend on whose it was.”

Arasha snorted, washing the mug with warm, soapy water. “It was Ian’s.”

“Hm, not the worst. He is kind of hot in like, a divorced dad kind of way.”

Arasha rinsed the mug off and grabbed a dish towel, drying as fast as she could while still being thorough. Out the corner of her eye, she could tell that Brianna was watching her, twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger. Finally satisfied with her efforts, she handed the clean mug to Brianna, who thanked her and poured in steaming hot coffee. She took a sip before handing the mug back.

Arasha took the mug automatically, surprised. “Oh, you wanna share it?”

“Yeah, it’s only fair. Unless you don’t feel comfortable.”

“No-no, I’m comfortable. I just- Thank you.”

Arasha sipped the coffee and her eyes closed on their own accord. Fuck, that was really good coffee. She swore she could already feel the caffeine spreading through her body. She gave the mug back to Brianna who just held it.

“It’s a little too hot,” she said, sounding almost awkward. Arasha had no idea she could feel awkward about anything.

For a moment they stood there silently in the kitchen, watching the steam rise out of the mug. Of course, right behind the steam was Brianna’s cleavage, and Arasha’s focus shifted there a few times in spite of her best efforts.

The fridge made a fridge noise and they both startled, then laughed at their own reactions. Arasha desperately tried to think of something to say, but Brianna beat her to it.

“Do you think me and Courtney look alike? I know you guys are friends, so I’m just wondering.”

“Uh, no,” Arasha lied, somehow sensing that that was the correct answer; but wanting to be honest she added, “Maybe in the very beginning, when I first met you. But as I’ve gotten to know you better, I realized that there are more differences than similarities; you’re not even the same kind of blonde.”

Brianna nodded, seemingly satisfied. She sipped from the mug again.

”It kinda bothers me when people compare us; I’m my own person. Also, I don’t see it; for starters, her tatas are supes small compared to mine.” She unsubtly glanced at Arasha’s chest area. “Not that there’s anything wrong with small tits; I have pretty small hands anyway.”

Arasha drew in a breath to say something, then realized the implication of Brianna’s words and froze. Forcing out an awkward laugh, she took out her phone and pretended to read a text. The whole time she felt Brianna’s eyes on her.

Alex Tran appeared in the doorway. “Arasha, we need you on set.”

“Right!” She shoved her phone back in her pocket and gave Brianna a small wave as she followed Alex out. Brianna reached out and barely brushed her arm, but it was enough to stop her dead in her tracks.

“Are you working on Friday?” Brianna asked, smiling sweetly.

“Yeah- Yes. Uh-huh.”

“Me too. You should wear a skirt.”

Arasha choked a little on thin air, then swallowed hard. “Okay,” she squeaked and speedwalked to catch up with Alex, heart pounding in her throat. What the fuck was that?!

▼

Distracted with work, Arasha made it through the rest of the day without thinking much about Brianna; but once she was in the car headed home, she replayed the last bits of their conversation in her head.

“Wear a skirt,” she said out loud to herself as she stopped at a red light. She tapped the steering wheel with her nails, frowning. “’We’re both working on Friday; you should wear a skirt’ – what?”

She kept turning the words in her head, confused about Brianna’s intention. Arasha was wearing jeans and a sweater; did Brianna want her to dress more feminine? What business was that of hers? Brianna was known for speaking her mind, but Arasha hadn’t ever heard her be critical of the way other people dressed, or even give unsolicited advice.

Besides, she’d specifically asked that Arasha wear a skirt not in general, but specifically the next time they were working together. It didn’t make a lot of sense.

All she knew for sure was, when Brianna had looked her in the eyes and said those words, for a brief few seconds she’d felt as if her knees would give out. The words themselves were completely innocuous, but the way they had sounded from Brianna’s glossy lips made Arasha feel woozy.

She put the speculations out of her mind as she pulled into the Ralphs parking lot, focusing instead on remembering the items on the grocery list she’d left at home. By the time she reached the self-checkout, she had all but forgotten her confused feelings from earlier.

▼

Wednesday and Thursday went by in a haze; shooting weeks were always exhausting, but also the best part of her job. She goofed around with her fellow cast members and the crew during the day, and all but passed out in her bed early in the evening.

It wasn’t until she was leaving work Thursday afternoon that she remembered Brianna’s request again: Friday. Wear a skirt. Arasha felt conflicted. On one hand, what a perfectly easy thing to do; she owned several skirts, and wearing one to work wasn’t weird or challenging in any way. But on the other hand, who was Brianna to dictate her wardrobe? And what was the point?

In a moment of déjà vu, Arasha once again found herself in L.A. traffic, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to the situation than fashion. Imagining herself wearing a skirt to the office, nothing; imagining Brianna’s reaction to her wearing a skirt to the office... not nothing.

Brianna was not in charge; if Arasha wore jeans and acted aloof, the worst outcome would be Brianna being mildly disappointed – if she even remembered or cared. But if Arasha complied, then what? Would Brianna praise her? Reward her efforts? Shifting in the car seat, Arasha sucked in a breath; her stomach muscles clenched, and she realized she was getting wet.

Even though there was no way the people in the other cars could know the state she was in, her cheeks still burned with shame. At the next stop light, she briefly squeezed her thighs together and a small moan escaped her, barely audible over the music playing in her car. She wanted nothing more than to get home, dig a toy out of her bedroom drawer, and drill out any confusing thoughts. There was just one thing she had to do first.

Flipping on her turn signal, she turned right at the last possible second, earning a long, angry honk from the driver behind her. “Yup, fair,” she murmured, nodding her head absentmindedly. The sound still rang in her ears minutes later when she walked into TJ Maxx.

She had browsed aimlessly for 10 minutes, unsure of what she was even looking for, and politely rejected two different employees’ offers to help. Finally, while she was already looking towards the next rack of clothes, her fingers brushed over something, and she paused. Lifting the hanger off the rack, she ran her hand over the soft black leather, feeling goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. She didn’t hesitate another second before taking the skirt to the fitting rooms.

Safely behind the door of one of the small rooms, she quickly took off her pants and wiggled into the tight skirt, zipping it up in the back. She smoothed her hands down over her thighs and looked in the mirror; it fit as if tailormade for her. It was a little tighter and shorter than what she’d normally wear, snug around her hips and stopping above her knees, but it was still work-appropriate. By Smosh standards anyway.

Turning to check the fit from all angles, she tried to see herself through Brianna’s eyes, taking in the length of her own smooth, brown legs, and the way the tight leather hugged the curve of her ass. A tingling sensation started in her stomach and crept downwards. What would Brianna do when she saw her? What do you want her to do?

Swallowing hard, Arasha leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, unzipping the skirt and slowly pushing it down over her hips, squeezing her thighs together more than she had to. I want her to take it off me. She let the skirt drop and it fell around her ankles, the lining giving off secondhand warmth. She put her pointer finger under the waistband of her underwear, not taking them off, just feeling her finger stroke across her stomach between fabric and soft skin. She imagined Brianna’s finger in its place and huffed out a small breath as she clenched involuntarily. I want her to strip me down completely. I want her to see me, touch me-

Without consciously deciding to, she pressed the heel off her other hand against her crotch. A wave of pleasure rushed over her; her thighs snapped together, trapping her hand in place; and she let out a loud gasp as her knees buckled and she fell into a crouched position. Shuddering as she tried to collect herself, her mouth dropped open in shock and arousal as she teetered on the brink of orgasm.

“Is everything alright in there?” a concerned voice asked from the other side of the flimsy door, and Arasha scrambled to stand upright, frantically pulling her sweater down in case the employee decided to come in.

“Everything’s great! I can’t believe how good I look in this skirt, haha,” she fake-laughed, fully aware of how deranged her voice sounded.

“Okay,” the employee said doubtfully, before walking away, her footsteps growing quieter until they couldn’t be heard at all.

Arasha looked at her own reflection once more, letting go of the hem of her sweater; it slipped back up where it belonged, revealing her grey cotton underwear. A diamond shaped stain of sticky wetness bloomed from the crotch, darkening the fabric. She took a deep breath, swallowing down the hot shame that threatened to rise within her, already making her stomach churn.

She put her pants back on, put the leather skirt back on the hanger, and left the dressing room trying to look as casual as possible. Then she took her find to the register and paid for it, not even hearing the price before swiping her card.

▼

Friday morning Arasha stood next to her bed as the clock ticked mercilessly closer to the time she had to leave for work. She was freshly showered; her hair blow-dried; her makeup done; and her teeth brushed. There was nothing left to do except get dressed; but once she did, there would be no turning back from the decision she was about to make.

She shifted her eyes back and forth between the two outfits she’d laid out: One with pants and one with The Skirt. They were both genuine options; she could just put on the jeans she’d worn dozens of times and go to work like she did any other day. And always wonder in the back of your mind what Brianna wanted. Arasha groaned, shuffling her feet; she really needed to leave soon.

“Fuck, shit, fuck,” she said through gritted teeth, grabbing the skirt from the bed. She got dressed, pointedly not looking in the mirror before leaving, in case the sight made her change her mind again.

When she walked through the doors of the Smosh offices, she felt a small sting of panic, but managed to calm herself enough to keep walking. “You are normal,” she said under her breath, stretching out the syllables.

Hoping to dress down the skirt a bit, she’d paired it with a loose-fitting graphic tee that she’d tucked in, and a pair of sneakers to really sell the look as casual. The whole drive over, she’d reassured herself that this was an unassuming outfit, and that none of her coworkers would even notice; she believed it right until she walked onto the Games stage.

“Wow, Arasha,” Courtney said, immediately staring right at the skirt with an appreciative look on their face. “What the hell, you look hot!”

“I don’t normally look hot?” Arasha replied, pretending to be offended.

Spencer grinned at her. “You should have told me it was Sexy Skirt Friday; I would have worn mine.”

“I’m sure we would have all loved to see that,” Tommy drawled as he entered the room, sounding like he wasn’t entirely joking. “Arasha, that skirt is fire.”

Arasha thanked them all in her most nonchalant tone, feeling somewhat relieved now that she’d survived her coworkers’ initial reactions. They all turned their attentions to Spencer, who was summarizing the rules to the board game they’d definitely all prepared to play for the day’s video. Just as he finished, Brianna walked in, boot heels loud against the concrete floor.

“Guys, I’m so sorry I’m late; my nail tech was telling me about her bonkers Tinder date, and I just had to hear the end of the story.”

“That’s.. fine,” Spencer said, never quite sure how to deal with Brianna. “I think we’re ready to start, so take your seats, please.”

Brianna dropped her bag on a chair out of frame and brushed past Arasha as she approached the Games table.

“Nice skirt,” she said casually.

“Thanks, it’s new,” Arasha said without thinking, then instantly regretted ever learning to speak.

Brianna stopped in her tracks and looked back at her, lips curving up in a sly smile. She didn’t say anything else, but there was no doubt that she knew what that implied. Arasha’s face burned as she took her seat, powerless to do anything but focus up and get through the video without disintegrating under Brianna’s assessing gaze.

▼

“Where exactly are we going?” Arasha asked, hoping she sounded breezy in spite of feeling anything but. It was lunch time, and everyone’s food orders had arrived; but before she could go to the seating area where everyone else had already gathered, Brianna had pulled her aside.

“I told you, silly, we’re just going to the bathroom.”

Arasha had gone to the bathroom with other girls countless times, but not at work and certainly never with Brianna. On top of that, they were headed in the wrong direction. Unless…

Arasha’s heart skipped a beat. In the other end of the building was a bathroom that no one ever used. There was nothing terribly wrong with it, but it was just far enough from both the stages and the bullpen that using it was inconvenient timewise. Arasha had only used it once, out of desperation, when the other bathrooms were occupied minutes before a livestream, and her bladder threatened to fail her.

She suspected that other people might use it for bathroom emergencies as well, so she was grateful to only smell floral scented cleaning products when Brianna opened the door and pulled her inside.

The room was weirdly L-shaped, and the sole ceiling light hung immediately above the toilet, bathing you in fluorescent lighting as you did your business, while then keeping you in ominous shadows as you washed your hands. Arasha considered all these factors with the critical eye of a dedicated Selling Sunset viewer, until she was gently backed up against the sink. Brianna’s face was inches from her own, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“Arasha, did you wear a skirt because I told you to?” she asked innocently.

“Y-yes.”

Brianna’s smile widened and she leaned in closer. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” Arasha breathed, and she only just managed to hold back a whimper when Brianna brought their mouths together.

Brianna’s hands found her waist, thumbs gently stroking up and down, while her soft lips moved against Arasha’s. When her tongue swiped over Arasha’s bottom lip, she let it in immediately, and Brianna rewarded her with a pleased moan. Taking this as permission to let go, Arasha responded with her own sounds of pleasure as her shaky hands came to rest on Brianna’s shoulders.

You are making out with Brianna in the bathroom at work! A voice in her head stated redundantly, but before she could properly process how bad of an idea it might be, Brianna broke the kiss.

“Tell me if you wanna stop,” she all but gasped out, but in spite of her eagerness, she waited for a response before doing anything. Arasha nodded rapidly, brain foggy with arousal, and Brianna smiled and carefully rucked Arasha’s skirt up to her waist.

She kneeled on the floor in front of her, taking in her half-dressed body with a look of hunger; her soft hands caressed Arasha’s thighs, sending pleasant chills up her spine. She hooked her pointer fingers into the waistband of Arasha’s underwear, looking up at her with an expression that could best be described as giddy.

“Can I take these off?”

Arasha willed herself not to be self-conscious and nodded slowly, holding her breath as the flimsy black fabric was pulled down her hips and thighs. Even in the half-light, the patch of slick wetness on the inside of the panties was conspicuous enough to catch Brianna’s eye. Brianna sighed happily at the sight and bit her lip, carefully removing the underwear completely and tucking them halfway into the waistband of her own shorts for safekeeping.

Arasha’s legs broke out in goosebumps as she found herself naked from the waist down, aside from her scuffed up sneakers, fully on display for the woman she’d been crushing on for going on a year. Against all odds, her nerves were dissipating, replaced entirely with the awareness of a dull but insistent throb between her legs that was begging for attention. She couldn’t remember ever being this turned on in her entire-

“Hold my gum.” Brianna didn’t wait for an answer but took her used gum out of her mouth and unceremoniously handed it to Arasha.

Holding another person’s wet, chewed-up gum between two fingers almost brought Arasha crashing back to reality, but then Brianna gently brushed a knuckle against her wet folds, instantly wiping her mind. She inhaled sharply as her hips stuttered, blushing as Brianna giggled.

Some of her bravado seemed to fade as she looked up at Arasha, holding up both hands to show off her long, sharp nails.

“I can’t really finger anyone without turning them into shish kebab,” she said apologetically, giving Arasha a hopeful look. “Can I eat your pussy?”

Arasha almost choked on an inbreath and barely managed a weak “Yes”, hands gripping the sink behind her. Brianna hummed happily and pushed Arasha’s legs slightly further apart before leaning in and giving her an experimental lick.

“You’re so wet,” she murmured. “And you taste so good.”

Arasha felt like she was on fire, and she could give no audible response before Brianna leaned back in, working her tongue in between her folds as she nudged her clit with the tip of her nose. Arasha hissed and closed her eyes, already overwhelmed by the pleasure building between her legs.

Brianna pressed closer, slipping her tongue inside Arasha’s pussy and curling it upwards in a move that had Arasha whimpering and squeezing her eyes tighter shut. It was almost too much, and yet she begged Brianna not to stop. She moaned with every clench of her inner walls, pulsing around Brianna’s textured tongue. Time and place lost all meaning; the only sound she registered was Brianna’s beautiful moans, as enraptured as if she was the one being eaten out within an inch of her life.

With her sharp nails carefully resting against Arasha’s taut stomach, she used the pad of her thumb to rub circles above her clit, while lapping up the wetness steadily flowing onto her tongue. When Arasha’s moans got more frantic, to the point where she finally slapped a hand over her mouth, Brianna instead let her lips envelop the sensitive bud and sucked.

Arasha yelped as her orgasm hit her all at once, and she rolled her hips, helplessly pressing herself firmer against Brianna’s mouth. “Fu-uck! Oh my god, oh my-“ She let out a high-pitched moan, fighting the overstimulation for another second or two before gently pushing Brianna away, knees buckling.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Brianna cooed, hands supporting the backs of her thighs. Brianna watched with eyes dark with desire as Arasha came back down to earth, resting her chin lightly on Arasha’s shaking thigh. When Arasha seemed more steady on her feet, Brianna placed a kiss against her swollen pussy lips.

“Good job, cutie,” she cooed, seemingly addressing her pussy directly. ”You came so much for me.”

Arasha’s face heated up in embarrassment, but she couldn’t help but smile softly as Brianna stood up and faced her again. She leaned in almost hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure if Arasha would allow it; but Arasha quickly closed the distance between them and welcomed the kiss, tasting herself on Brianna’s lips and tongue. She felt dizzy as the strum of her orgasm slowly faded.

She pulled back, shyly meeting Brianna’s eyes. “Holy shit…”

Brianna nodded and kissed her again. They stood there for a moment, lazily making out until Arasha broke the kiss again. “Do you want me to… I mean, I’ve never- I’m sure I could figure it out?”

Brianna giggled, shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it; we should probably head back before people start looking for us.”

Arasha nodded, trying not to look disappointed. “Are your knees okay?”

“Oh yeah, these things basically have callouses at this point,” Brianna said, then grimaced and added, “In like, a hot way.”

“Sure,” Arasha said with a grin; she has a hard time picturing anything that she wouldn’t find hot about Brianna at this point.

Brianna tucked Arasha’s underwear free from her own waistband and bent down to help her step into them, pulling them up over her legs as gently as she had pulled them off. Underwear in place, Brianna let Arasha fix the rest of her clothes to look presentable, while washing her hands and face over the sink.

“I wanna see you again,” Arasha said, absentmindedly wiping beads of sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Most people do,” Brianna said in a singsong tone, reaching for a paper towel, but there was a flatness to it, like she didn’t really believe it. “You probably think I do this all the time...”

“I don’t think that. And I don’t wanna see you again just to hook up; I’d like to take you on a date.”

Brianna looked taken aback; there was something vulnerable in her eyes. “Really?”

For a second the façade slipped; the skimpy clothes were a costume, the flawless makeup a mask; and there was a glimpse of the real Brianna. An ordinary person, presumably with an unassuming real last name, and a wealth of real human feelings. Arasha wanted to tell her that she believed, very genuinely, that this person deserved a chance to be known and even loved, but it felt like too much for a post-cunnilingus bathroom conversation, so she just said,

“Yeah, if you want to. If you don’t that’s okay, no pressure; but yeah, really, I really wanna go on a date with you. If you want.”

Brianna took a deep breath. “I wanna go to Red Lobster.”

“Deal,” Arasha said with a grin.

They exchanged one more quick kiss, then Brianna opened the bathroom door and gestured for Arasha to go first. She did but paused briefly in the doorway. “Do you want your gum?”

“Oh,” Brianna unstuck the gum from Arasha’s outstretched fingers and seemed to think about it for a moment before throwing it in the bathroom trash can. “Thanks for holding onto it, but… I think I wanna keep the taste of you a little longer.”

In the seating area, everyone had pretty much finished eating and were talking and joking around, but when Arasha and Brianna walked up, a lot of the conversation died down. Amanda gave them an analytical look as they took their seats, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“Your food’s getting cold. What have you been up to?”

Arasha immediately felt panic set in, but Brianna’s foot lightly pressed against hers under the table, grounding her.

“Good thing I ordered a salad then,” Brianna said, her face and voice as calm as ever. “My Diva cup was stuck and Arasha was nice enough to help me get it out. Guess I gotta lay off the Kegels.”

Every muscle in Arasha’s body instantly tightened with humiliation, and she wondered if maybe the truth wouldn’t have been less embarrassing after all; but at least her coworkers all decided that this explanation beckoned exactly zero follow-up questions. They ate their food in silence while conversation slowly started up again around them, occasionally sneaking shy glances at each other.

▼ After evading their texts all weekend, Arasha was cornered by Courtney in the office kitchen early Monday morning. They held the last mug hostage until Arasha finally caved and told them the truth.

“I knew it! I knew that Diva cup story was bullshit!”

“Will you keep your voice down?!” Arasha said, gesturing wildly. “I’m not ready for the whole office to find out about it!”

“Then why did you fuck at work?!” Courtney squealed but did lower their voice considerably. “I can’t believe it finally happened; I didn’t expect it to happen in the weird bathroom, but-“

“Finally? What do you mean ‘finally’?”

Courtney gave her an overbearing look. “Brianna has been trying to flirt with you for ages; I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but she made me swear not to.”

Arasha supported herself on the kitchen island. “For ages? How did I not notice?”

“She kept saying ‘We accept the love we think we deserve’; but that was right after Shayne made her read The Perks of Being a Wallflower, so I’m not sure it was directly related.”

After securing the mug and filling it with coffee, Arasha went to her desk and sat down. She pulled out her phone and called Brianna, hoping she wasn’t waking her up.

▼ For all her confidence when she asked Brianna out, Arasha had gotten increasingly nervous in the hours leading up to the date. She had changed her outfit several times, seriously considering wearing The Skirt again, but worried that it was sending the wrong signal. In the end, she had put on a dark green jumpsuit that made her look slightly overdressed, but there was no time for regret, as she had to leave for Brianna’s.

Brianna had done a photoshoot earlier in the day, taking place in the opposite direction of Arasha’s place. To make things easier on her, Arasha drove to her place, and they would leave together from there. They could have met at the restaurant, but Brianna had insisted on driving them in her gold Miata.

Arasha had showed up exactly on time, and when Brianna had opened the door, she’d kissed Arasha with the enthusiasm of a woman starved.

Red Lobster was unusually busy for a Wednesday night, and while Arasha had felt ridiculous making a reservation, she was grateful for it when she and Brianna pulled into the parking lot. Once they were seated across from each other in the restaurant, conversation had flowed, and neither of them noticed or cared how long they had to wait for their food.

Arasha’s earlier nervousness was nowhere to be felt, and she couldn’t remember ever being this at ease on a date. They knew each other well enough that there wasn’t a lot of explaining to do; but not so well that there were no stories to tell. They got each other’s jokes and references, and they related to each other’s experiences. There were no awkward silences; when they paused the conversation to eat a few bites of their almost forgotten meals, it was comfortable.

When Brianna went to the bathroom near the end of the meal, Arasha smoothly paid the bill before she came back. She had an inkling that Brianna made more money than she did, but she couldn’t care less; she had suggested the date, and she was going to be old school about it and hope Brianna found it more charming than archaic.

Brianna did. When she returned from the bathroom and found the bill covered, along with a generous tip, she gave Arasha a heated look and shrugged her jacket on.

“Let’s get out of here, stud.”

On the drive to Brianna’s place, the conversation was broken up by longer and longer silences, as the atmosphere in the car grew thick with sexual tension. As soon as they had arranged to meet, Arasha had strictly told herself not to assume that the date would end with sex. She had wanted to have zero expectations and let Brianna lead, ensuring that there was no pressure, and that Brianna did not for one second think that Arasha only wanted her physically.

Now, sitting in the car together, Arasha felt sweaty under her collar. She observed Brianna shift in her seat, tap her fingers along to the song playing on the radio, and every so often glance at Arasha with a secretive smile, all while effortlessly driving stick. She looked as restless as Arasha felt, so when she parked outside her house, Arasha wasn’t surprised to hear her say,

“Don’t go yet.”

Arasha smiled. “Okay, I won’t. Do you want me to come inside for a bit?”

“No,” Brianna said, too quickly, then laughed nervously. “I mean, no, let’s just sit here for a bit.”

“Okay?” Arasha unbuckled her seatbelt and got as comfortable as she could. She was still feeling the sexual tension, but now confusion was starting to creep in. Brianna picked at a nail, not making eye contact, and Arasha finally realized what was going on.

“Brianna, are you nervous?”

Brianna sighed and made an exasperated gesture. “Yes, okay! You know most people I go out with just jump me at this point; I’m so stupidly horny, do I really have to make the first move? Again?”

Arasha laughed and couldn’t stop once she’d started; eventually it set Brianna off too, and they giggled helplessly for a minute or so before regaining some semblance of control. Arasha shuffled closer until her thigh was pressed against the console between their seats. She reached out and tugged a lock of Brianna’s hair behind her ear.

“Brianna, do you want me to jump you?”

Brianna pouted childishly. “No…”

“Then tell me what you want.”

“I want you to make me come,” she said shakily, looking down. “I want your fingers inside me, and I want you to kiss me.”

Arasha leaned in to kiss her and Brianna met her halfway, making a desperate sound against her lips. They stopped kissing so Brianna could wiggle out of her jacket and throw it into the backseat. The straps of her dress slipped off her shoulders on their own, and she pushed the rest of the dress down to her hips as to not be restrained. Her tits were spilling out over the cups of her bra, and Arasha couldn’t take her eyes off them.

“I know you said you wanted fingers, but…”

Brianna followed her gaze down to her chest and nodded. “I want everything.”

Brianna slipped off the straps and pushed the bra down as well, not bothering to open it. Arasha kissed her again, hungrier this time, mouth traveling down her neck to her collarbone. She paused to allow Brianna to stop her, but instead she made an impatient noise that nearly made Arasha laugh again.

She placated Brianna by slipping a hand under her dress, pressing her fingers lightly against the front of her underwear. The soft lace was soaking wet, and Arasha swore she could feel her pulse as she pressed down harder. Brianna whimpered and pushed Arasha’s hand away, maneuvering herself out of the panties with impressive efficiency.

“Keep going, please don’t stop,” she said like a prayer, and Arasha leaned down and took Brianna’s nipple in her mouth.

She sucked lightly at first, experimentally, and flicked it with her tongue, tasting sweetness and salt on Brianna’s skin. She let her hand wander back between Brianna’s legs, finding her wet and wanting, no longer obstructed by lace.

She wanted to remind Brianna that this was a first for her, that she didn’t know what she was doing, and that she might be terrible; but soothed by soft sounds already spilling from Brianna’s mouth, she let her instincts take over. Slipping her fingertips between Brianna’s folds, she gently brushed against her clit and was rewarded by a desperate keening sound. Letting her thumb stroke her clit continuously, Arasha pushed one finger inside of her, and, when she met little resistance, added another.

She pumped them slowly in and out, finding a steady rhythm that made Brianna shiver and curse under her breath. One of her hands found the back of Arasha’s neck and pushed her firmer against her chest. Arasha sucked harder on her nipple and pumped her fingers faster, keeping the heel of her hand constantly pressed against Brianna’s clit.

Brianna thrust her hips against the moving hand, moans rising in volume, and her pussy clenched tighter around Arasha’s fingers with every roll of her hips.

“Don’t stop, I’m coming,” she gasped. “I’m coming, I’m-“

Arasha remembered the other part of her request last second and pulled away from her chest, capturing Brianna’s mouth in a searing kiss instead. Her pussy clenched hard enough to almost lock Arasha’s fingers in place and she thrashed in her seat, whining against Arasha’s lips as she rode out her orgasm.

When Arasha broke the kiss, she let out a growling moan, eyes still squeezed shut, and she closed her thighs to keep Arasha’s hand in place. “Wait, wait, wait, just…”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Arasha chuckled, pressing soft kisses to her neck.

She didn’t move her hand, just kept it where Brianna wanted it and let her use it as she pleased, occasionally pressing against it with a sigh. Eventually Brianna took a deep breath and shifted backwards in her seat, and Arasha withdrew her hand. Her fingers and palm were coated in sticky juices, and she felt an almost painful sting of pleasure when she put her fingers in her mouth to taste.

Brianna, who had just pulled a pack of wet wipes out of the door pocket, froze in place and watched her with half lidded eyes, making a small noise in her throat. Arasha blushed, taking a wet wipe and cleaning off her hand.

“Why do you get so embarrassed?” Brianna asked. She wasn’t judging; her tone was genuine and curious.

“What do you mean?”

“When you say something weird in a video, you always freeze up for a second; you don’t laugh it off, you let other people laugh at it instead. When people compliment you, you look like you regret earning it. And when I ate your pretty pussy…”

Arasha averted her gaze, feeling her face heat up, and she grimaced. Brianna laughed, stroking her cheek soothingly. Gently, she cupped Arasha’s jaw and turned her face back towards her.

“…when I ate your pretty pussy,” she repeated, holding eye contact. “I could tell how much you wanted it, but you were so self-conscious.”

“In all fairness, I was half naked at my job.”

Brianna giggled. “And I’ll admit it wasn’t the most elegant way I could have gone about it; but can you honestly say you would have been more confident if I had laid you down on a fourposter bed?”

“Probably not…”

“Right,” Brianna took her hand and held it. “You just made me come so hard, I almost jumped out of my seat. And you sucked your fingers, and it was so hot! You have nothing to be embarrassed about; you’re great. Not just at making me come, everything about you; I like you so much.”

The warmth in Arasha’s face started to seep down into her chest, curling around her heart. “I’m a little confused. We had a great date; you didn’t want me to come inside, which I respect; but then you still wanted to hook up; and now it sounds like… you wanna keep seeing me?”

“Of course, I wanna keep seeing you! I thought that was obvious; I know I have a reputation, but I actually don’t put out for every pretty girl who buys me lobster.”

“When you didn’t invite me inside, I guess I thought you were setting some kind of boundary.”

“Ah, no, Bryce is sleeping on my couch,” Brianna said with a small shrug. “I really wanted you to fuck me, and I knew he’d hear us if we went to my bedroom.”

Arasha blinked. “That’s why we did it here? It’s not because you’re don’t want something serious with me?”

“I don’t wanna rush into a relationship, and I don’t wanna skip over anything, but I wanna give this a shot. And if Bryce wasn’t posted up in my living room watching Golden Girls, I’d gladly invite you in.”

“Oh. Why is Bryce sleeping on your couch?”

Brianna rolled her eyes. “He and his boyfriend Gaige are fighting because Bryce spent a month’s worth of rent money on a Swarovski jockstrap.”

“We lead very different lives.”

Brianna leaned over the console and kissed her. “I know, isn’t it exciting?”

Arasha laughed. “It is pretty exciting.”

Brianna looked pleased. She leaned in for another kiss and they made out in the car for a while longer, barely registering the occasional passing car. Arasha found that she wasn’t concerned at all about being seen.

#briasha #brianna boho #arasha lalani #smosh #fanfiction #by me #smoshblr #blondeforyou #courtney miller #let me know what you think!

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dilfartist · 2 years

Text

Like it or not

TW: Stalking, Monster, forced relationship, rushed ending, cursing, yandere tendencies.

Paring: Yandere Siren Jotaro x reader

The seashells on the shore were always beautiful. Every weekend, you would collect the seashells you found. You did many things with the shells: created jewelry, draw them, and collect them for decorations. That's why you would never miss a day of going to the beach on your days off from your work at the local ice cream shop.

You visited the beach so frequently, eventually, you had caught someone- or something's eye.

There was a cave near the spot you would visit. You never went inside the cave. You didn't have a reason to do so. If you would have, you would find a creature watching you closely. The creature was a siren named Jotaro Kujo.

Well, half-human, half siren to be exact.

Jotaro came across you one day during one of your many visits. He needed to get away from the group of female sirens that followed him around, to escape the problem, he emerged out of the sea into a cave. As usual, Jotaro lay against a massive rock smoking a cigarette. His eyes drifted to the opening in the cave. That's when he saw you. You were painting while listening to a cassette tape. You looked stunning at this moment. Perhaps, this is why Jotaro was attracted to you. Not because of your looks, no, because of your interest in the ocean. Jotaro yearned to see you again.

From that day on Jotato religiously journeyed to the cave on the weekends, observing your every move from afar. Jotaro would bring your belongings to the cave and stash your stolen belongings. He had a shrine of stuff he had stolen from you. He'd come by the cave and examine the items to remember the memories he, without your knowledge, shared with you. The months grew and Jotaro knew every little detail about you. The siren had fallen in love with you. Jotaro would not sing to lure anyone. Hell, Jotaro never sings to himself in secret. He found no need for it. But when he saw you, he wanted nothing more than to sing you a song from the bottom of his heart. Of course, not to eat your heart. No. He wanted to sing to you so he could pull you down to the ocean with him.

Worry consumed his mother. She hadn't seen her son in a while which concerned her greatly. Even if her son was cruel to her at times, he wouldn't up and leave her, nor was it his character to stay out late. Jotaro didn't lie to his mother about the situation. He was honest. Jotaro informed his mother of the woman he would watch during the weekends. How his heart skipped a beat when he saw the woman riding her bike to get to the beach. How he had developed a love for the woman. Holly was pleased to hear this news. Just as jotaro feared his mother would bring this subject up every chance she got. The worst part was she told his grandfather, Joseph, about Jotaro's crush as well. Joseph, surprisingly, didn't tease Jotaro as much as Jotaro thought he would. Instead, he offered Jotaro advice.

"If you honestly like this woman, sing to her Jotaro. Surely, she'll become your mate after."

Jotaro thought of disregarding his grandfather's guidance but he considered it. Soon enough, Jotaro planned the next weekend to sing you a song. Of course, he prepared himself. Jotaro hadn't sung in forever. Until then, he waited in his cave, awaiting your arrival.

The next time you came to the beach, it was different. You had traveled to the beach during the nighttime. Strolling down the street, bike in hand. You wanted to get a couple of pictures of the sea during twilight. You parked your bike against a street lamp then wrapped a heavy chain around the bicycle to ensure it wouldn't be stolen. You stumbled down the hill and fell against the sand. the grains felt cool and soft, almost like a grainy textured pillow. You sat up, shaking the sand out of your hair/ religious wear. You took several pictures of the Sapphire-colored ocean. They all were to your liking so you went to leave.

Until you heard the sounds of a deep-voiced male singing a beautiful tone, which reverberated throughout the beach.

As if you were in trance, your body followed the sound into a dark cave. Entering the cave, you examined your surroundings until your eyes landed on a muscular figure. The muscular figure was a man with long ebony wavy hair and tan skin. The man noticed your presence and motioned you over with his index finger. You obeyed his introduction. You crept closer, closer, and closer until you were face to face with the mysterious male. The male stopped singing, instead, he focused on you. You felt his hand grip your chin and pull you closer to his lip. In the corner of your eye, you saw multiple scales on his waist, almost like he had a fishtail for his lower body. Then it hit you, this wasn't a man- this was a monster. After all, his eyes were pitch black. You shrieked attempting to escape the creature's grip. The creature seemed confused by the sudden reaction, "what's wrong, did I upset you?" you didn't answer any of its questions.

In one of the last attempts to escape this monster's hold, you pulled out your camera and snapped a photo of the creature causing the flash to hurt it. The creature dropped you, covering its sensitive eyes. While it was stunned, you crawled away. Before you fled the cave, you watched as the creature sunk back into the ocean beneath the rock. You left the cave questioning yourself if you had been hallucinating.

Real or not, you wouldn't return to that beach again. Jotaro felt depressed after that night. After all, you never returned to the beach again after the experience. Jotaro pondered on what he did wrong: Was it his voice? Did he come off too aggressive? Were you just not interested? Jotaro desired to be your love. During this desperate time, he supposed he could ask his mother for advice. Jotaro's mother realized her son had fallen in love with you, so she told him the secret she kept from Jotaro. When Holly was Jotaro's age, she also met a human that caused her heart to pound. She fell in love with him. Unfortunately for her, Holly could never be his lover since she was a siren and he was human. Or so she thought. One day she came across a sea witch. Holly sold her soul to the witch to become human. She did end up becoming human, but she missed her father and mother, so the witch gave her a potion that turned her lover into a siren as well.

Jotaro had his mother give up the location of the lair. The next day, when night fell, Jotaro ventured to the sea witch's lair. He entered cautiously. The cave was eerie. Jotaro hadn't even come inside yet. Jotaro pushed himself forward, reminding himself this was all for you.

"Searching for me, young man?"

Jotaro looked to his side, watching as a blonde male appeared out of the darkness. Jotaro's jaw clenched. Jotaro did not like this at all. The male in front of him gave him a bad feeling. He was a walking red flag, from those pricing red eyes to his never-ending smirk. "If I were to guess your reasoning for your appearance, it would be to find I, Lord Dio, and make a deal for the item you desire most." the man smirked.

After giving Dio his soul, Dio granted Jotaro a red potion, "this is for the girl." Jotaro raised an eyebrow, "Only if you wish to turn her into a siren." Dio granted Jotaro's wish by turning him human. Jotaro could still transform into a siren only when he touched water.

At the crack of dawn, Jotaro swam up to the shore. Jotaro unhurriedly stepped out of the water. He was taken aback for a moment when catching sight of his legs, yet, he got over the shock quickly. Suddenly, pain shot from his waist down. Jotaro fell to the ground groaning in pain. Walking wasn't going to be simple; it felt like knives had been stabbing him when he took a step. All morning Jotaro trained himself to walk. Jotaro had gotten the hang of walking but still wobbled and tripped over himself.

Now that Jotaro knew how to walk, he needed clothes to cover his nude body.

Jotaro found a pair of clothes by stealing a passing school student's clothing. The clothes felt a bit tight, which annoyed Jotaro. The boy had a wallet in his back pocket. Inside was a heavy sum of cash. Jotaro chose to buy more fitting clothes in the mall. Jotaro didn't like the place: The building was noisy, the people stunk, and the women eyed him with lust. He had already purchased all of his clothes. All that was left was finding you.

"Alright, I'll see you later." Jotaro immediately turned toward the voice. Coming out of the ice cream shop across from the clothing store Jotaro had existed. From the clothing you were wearing, Jotaro could tell you had just gotten off your shift at work. Jotaro followed you without you noticing. He stayed far behind, somehow blending into the crowd despite his towering height.

Jotaro could tell you knew someone was watching you. The way you kept looking back with a skeptical expression told him. He departed from the crowd of strangers and hid in the shadows. He trailed behind you all the way home. By the time you arrived at your apartment door, you already knew someone was stalking behind you. You rushed and unlocked the door with your keys. You jumped inside your apartment and slammed the door closed. Well, you attempted. A hand stops the door from shutting completely.

Before you had a chance to hide somewhere in your home, a man entered. A man you hoped not to see again.

"You know, I've sold my soul to the devil for you. The least you could do is let me in."

You made an effort to run away from Jotaro, only to be snatched into his arms. You squirmed in his grip, "Let me go, you fucking monster!" you yelled. One of Jotaro's large hands gripped your cheeks together, "Listen." You stopped struggling because his grip grew to be intolerable. "I'll give you a choice, y/n. Either you and I stay humans, we live a life together as lovers. Or I shove his potion into your mouth, and you become a monster like me where you will also have to live your life as my lover."

"Like it or not, you are meant to be by my side. So choose wisely."

533 notes · View notes

sansxfuckyou · 7 months

Text

Compact Confessional

Summary: Mysterion is holding something from the rest of the Freedom Pals. They should respect his privacy, they really should- but they only take it as a challenge.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, privacy breach, betrayal of trust, swearing, feral behavior (in Kite), the authors attempt at humor, heavy guilt, interrogation, it gets worse but then it gets better guys, I promise

Authors Note: hurgh K2, with the additional flavor of kitesterion because I went batshit over the AU to an insane degree. I have no clue when the Ao3 port is dropping. Sorry if some of the colored text, isnt colored. And fair warning, this badboy levels around 10K words, tumblr starts to lag around 7.5K for anyone curious. it is almost 3 AM (do artists ever stay up insanely late to finish big projects and get so sleepy they forget the hotkey for the eraser tool? I wouldn't know, but somewhere along the line I kept trying to write segue way with a Q because I was fucking disoriented) I need to go to sleep right the fuck now

Mysterion is keeping something from the Freedom Pals, he's keeping something from all of them. Maybe if he was willing to talk about it with someone everyone wouldn't find it so intriguing. Maybe then everyone wouldn't want to know what it is that's so fucking important that no one is allowed to know about it.

Super Craig tries to act like it's nothing super big, aware that if everybody paid no mind to it that it might come out faster. Tupperware followed suite with the idea, Wonder Tweek tagging in as well. Other members of their franchise were a lot less… subtle, about their interest in Mysterions secret, whatever it is. The Coon is practically begging him every single day to tell him what it is, Call Girl even joins in. Toolshed is pretty sure the both of them are just making things worse it they want Mysterion to come clean.

Human Kite is the only one that refuses to meddle at all, even Doctor Timothy has tried getting a peek in Mysterions mind. The alien is the only one that sits there and listens to him bitch about how annoying they are. The only one that pauses to look and listen and take in every visual and audible cue because that's what he's known to do since he first landed way back when. It tells him a lot about his teammates if nothing else.

Still.

Mysterion- no, Kenny McCormick is hiding something from his friends. And given the fact that it's barely coming out even when he's in a state of delirium or terribly wounded, it must be something big.

It's starting to piss off Kyle a little bit.

-/-/-/-

"Thanks for letting me hang out for a bit man," Kenny said as he pulled on his orange parka. He opted to leave his bleached cargo shorts and purple everything else in a pile on Kyles bedroom floor. It was easy to do that when the alien offered to wash them, "Chilling with Cartman all the time definitely does not do wonders for ones mental health."

Kyle gives a laugh, the kind that leaves teeth too sharp on full display. "Totally, I swear to fuck that asshole needs therapy," He stills his tail from wagging like he's a little kid, except, when he was a little kid he tied his tail up so it wouldn't be exposed in an all too human world. An extremely uncaring world for anything different then what they know as normalcy.

"He needs so much therapy," Kenny answered with, "See you tomorrow?"

"On our patrol, I'll make sure your suit is washed," Kyle said, throwing an arm to the side, an invitation for a hug. He wouldn't be sad if Kenny didn't take it, but he still can't help the way his heart skips several beats when he gets one. An anchoring tightness enveloping him, squeezing a comfortable amount on his rib cage that would hurt if he was human.

"Thanks Kyle," Kenny said quietly, head propped near Kyles shoulder but not quite tall enough to rest it on top. He pushes himself on his tippy toes to press the top of his head to the bottom of Kyles chin. He takes a dramatic step back and maybe Kyles tail is swaying a little bit with a silky soft comfort residing on his skin. He clasps his hands together, "Tomorrow."

"Yeah man, see you then," Kyle said, the instant he realized his tail was doing the thing he stilled it entirely. He felt a slight singe of cyan embarrassment. Stupid alien anatomy. Giving away how he feels.

Kenny pivots on his heel and gives a wave, "See ya man!" His steps are light and Kyle is watching with maybe a little bit too much intent.

He has zero legal rights to do so, but emotional and psychological rights? He has plenty. The first one being that he might've imprinted on Kenny the second his family landed on earth. He might've latched onto both Mysterion and Kenny like an orphan duckling in his childhood era of existing- so much so that he couldn't help the absolute giddiness when he learned they were the same. Maybe he got a little bit too attached to Kenny compared to everyone else in a human sense. But in an alien sense, in his instinctual sense, he was the perfect amount of attached considering how he thought of Kenny.

The second reason he stared was because Kenny had an undeniably amazing ass. That wasn't just personal opinion either, they held a vote after a particularly odd argument in the Freedom Pals lair. Kenny won by an absolute fucking landslide in the votes and voter fraud having taken place can't be confirmed or denied by anyone.

Except for Doctor Timothy of course.

And if there is a god, Kyle is praying everyday that the human one makes sure that Doctor Timothy doesn't look into the legitimacy of the votes.

Kyle barely drags himself back from his thoughts, he's been told he can get lost in them sometimes. His tail is wagging again, the multicolored diamond-like frills undulate a little bit. He swings the front door shut reluctantly when he can't see Kenny anymore. He tugs off his gloves and tosses them in a pile alongside his hat, letting the splotchy cyan coloration of his skin show. He makes his way up to his bedroom, but he finds his impossibly human little brother standing in his doorway.

"Ike, get out of the way," Kyle said sternly, giving a bit of a growl under his voice. His adoptive brother just quirks a brow in that annoying manner he learned from the humans.

Ike clears his throat, "No."

"Well why not?" Kyle questioned, growl snuffed and replaced with something louder and more resonant, it vibrated in his brothers flesh. It was something that Ike long since lost the ability to be intimidated by.

"When are you gonna stop inviting over your little posse of partners eh?" Ike asked, crossing one arm over the other. His tone was nothing but accusatory, Kyle saw through it.

"Are you jealous?" Came Kyles instant reaction.

"No," Ike responded with far too fast to be true.

"I'll play some video games with you on Thursday," Kyle offered.

Ike moved out of the way, "Enjoy wallowing in your disgusting room bud."

Kyle ignored him with nothing more than an eye roll, he made a point of slamming his door shut. He kicked aside a small heap of whatever, a mix of something or other he'd been intending to clean up. He gently picks up a small stack of comics Kenny had lent him and places them on his desk. Right beside the Mysterion charm. And the Mysterion action figure. And the other pieces of shitty Mysterion merchandise he had bought.

Okay, yeah, maybe he had a little bit too much Mysterion merchandise. He was just trying to put some extra cash into Kenny's pocket for when money is tight around the house. He just wanted to make sure his best friend was living a decent life, it wouldn't be enough to give him the life Kyle knew Kenny deserved, but it would help.

He takes hold of Kennys outfit and empties the contents of the pockets into a small bin. Loose change, granola bar wrappers, pocket knife, lock pick, the usual stuff he carried around for hero duties and then some. Kyle shakes the hood loose of any twigs or leaves and something large enough to clatter as it hits the metal netting of the bin falls out. His pointed ear gives a flick at the noise, he's dropping to the ground and pulling it out in a second.

He's completely enveloped in the mystery of what was hidden in Kennys hood because A: fucking genius hiding spot, and B: this could be what Kenny was hiding. It could be exactly what Kenny was trying so hard to keep under the radar, what he successfully kept hidden from everyone's prying eyes.

He came up with a tape, jet black, scratched plastic and a cracked see through window bit. There are silver markings across the black, seemingly unpredictable and laid out with either sharpie ink or a paint pen. The paper label is coffee stained and reads the date, recorded last month (why it's still on Kennys person is odd). The log number is left blank, presumably stated in the recording.

It was a jackpot and somewhere in the back of Kyles mind he knew he should ignore it. He knew this was shattering every rule in the book and that he'd be shattering his friendship with Kenny, Mysterion and Human Kite would probably stop being a dynamic duo at that.

But, he needed to know.

He absolutely fucking needed to know.

He wouldn't dare speak it too anyone ever, and he'd return it to the hood right afterwards. He wouldn't even tell Kenny that he listened to it, he'd just sleep at night knowing exactly what Kennys secret is. And that would be more than good enough for Kyle, he wouldn't need anything else.

He reaches blindly for his cassette player, the one he's held onto since he was young. One of his earliest earthly possessions, one he still cherished and used every day. He popped out the cassette already inside and gently placed the pilfered audio into it. He eagerly grabs his earbuds before pressing play.

Professor Chaos is pretty fucking sure doing this shit is helping out my mental state or whatever He doesn't know what he's dealing with He doesn't know that he's playing with fire trying to get me to spill my guts on his fancy therapy chair But, here I am, sitting on top of the police station fully decked out in my Mysterion persona just chatting it up with myself again

I already know exactly what the problem here is Chaos, the center of this massive shitfuck that even paid therapy couldn't fix!

I've probably said that a million times in every one of these stupid fucking recordings... shit I forgot to do that log date ha!

Ahem, log three, topic. Whatever comes out of my fucking mouth.

Kyle presses pause hesitantly.

Oh god.

This is an audio diary, just for spilling Kennys guts.

And he's listening to it.

He should stop. He really, truly, should.

But he doesn't.

Instead he presses play.

Where were we? Right, right, just saying whatever shit that comes to my mind . . . I'm pretty sure that Kyle thinks I can't see him stare at me whenever I fucking bend over or walk away I'm not complaining, I'm flattered really But jeez man just say it outright if you think I have a hot ass

The pause button is slammed this time.

Kyles face is burning up because Kenny knew apparently, he knew that Kyle stared at him at every chance he gets. He feels his stomach twist a bit because oh man, he got caught staring and Kenny didn't even mention. The usage of 'you' makes Kyle feel even more called out on the matter.

He could drop out now, maybe that's the secret, that Kenny knows he stares. He could sleep at night saying that's the thing he's keeping hidden.

I can't talk much if you put everything into consideration But still! Human Kite himself staring at my ass . . . That's fucking awesome if I'm being honest I would hope I'm being honest cause who else is gonna listen to the truth aside from this stupid tape

Like, I'm just doing whatever and I can feel it He is staring holes into me, somedays it's like he's hitting me with those fucking laser eyes! That'd be hilarious actually One second I'm loading a dishwasher and the next my ass is on fire because he couldn't help but stare The Coon would be laughing about that till he's dead

So would Toolshed

And Call Girl

And Mosquito

We'd all get a good laugh out of it

Except for Human Kite

I think he would die of embarrassment if he lit my ass on fire It'd be adorable Bright blue face, ears drooping the slightest bit, maybe his tail would do something I don't know He'd probably say sorry a lot All I know is that after I'm done putting out the fire I'd say "it's fine!" And then I'd think about how cute he looks for weeks on end

Fuck he's absolutely amazing in every sense of the word God, I'm supposed to use these to rant about my shitty family Not gush about my partner in heroics . Oh well

He's perfect! I swear on my mothers grave he is everything That grin he gets whenever he's about to blow someone sky high I can see almost all of his fangs when he does it, which are fucking scary by the way But I'll be damned if it isn't a little bit hot to think about He could kill me and I'll love him He could do absolutely anything to me and I'd still want him so fucking much

And!

And, and, and There's this little thing he does whenever he gets happy Where the weird bits on his tail like, shake? They move, his tail also wags But the frills don't move unless he's actually happy He can fake the wag but he can't fake the frills moving

It's so fucking cute and weird and different I love it

Anyways! This is South Parks number one worst superhero coming to you live from the top of the police station!

. . .

Shit I think someone heard me

Kyle is paralyzed as the tape ends, letting every single word soak into his brain. His tail is doing the thing, it's wagging. Every nerve in his body is alight and he feels his stomach twisting into knots. His claws are digging into the plastic of the tape player as he just stares. His eyes end up resting on his desk, his laptop, with all of his external attachments.

There's a rush to his movements as he grabs it and the oddest, most useless, thing he owns. A reverse recorder of sorts, a simple thing he crafted but never thought he'd have a chance to use. He flips open the top and jams the plug into it's socket before sliding the cassette as gently as possible into the gadget. He should not be doing this, he really shouldn't be doing this.

But he can't keep the cassette to keep hold of the audio, he needs too extract it if he ever wants to hear it again. Which is wrong, and bad, and he absolutely needs to stop but he isn't. He's clicking 'extract' and watching that loading bar fill up gratingly slow.

He places down his laptop gently and balls up the fabrics before leaving. There's a twist of wrong in his gut, but he ignores it as he swings open the washing machine door. He knows how fucking wretched this is, that he'll be absolutely ruined if anyone finds out. He won't be able to live down the shame of having anyone catch word that he knows the secret. That he knows what it is that's keeping Kenny wound up so tightly.

He'll just keep his mouth shut.

Real easy.

Real simple.

-/-/-/-

Kyle might be abusing the knowledge he garnered from the tape, maybe a little bit. He might be curling up next Kenny a little bit more than often, hunched under a flowing purple cape like a cougar despite the height difference. Just maybe he's resting his head atop Kenny's a little bit more than usual, purring a little bit louder whenever he comes into contact with Kenny.

He really doesn't care though, maybe there's a twisted sense of catharsis he gets from the knowledge that yes, it's reciprocated, despite doing nothing to change it. Being awkward homies acting like there's nothing going on below the surface is entirely acceptable and everything that he's wanted from Kenny the second his family landed. Definitely. Absolutely. He didn't imprint. He absolutely did not imprint. He killed off that instinct way back in fourth grade.

Right after he met Kenny.

One second too late. And he is one hundred percent sure everyone in his family can see it, even Ike! Except, the little shit will hold it over him if he gets a chance. Taunting and teasing that Kyle imprinted on his best friend instead of literally anyone else. Of course, the asshole knows better what with every member of his family sporting claws made to rend flesh.

"Kyle!"

The Broflovski perks up a bit at his name being called. Stan sits down across from him, sliding his safety glasses off as he does so.

"You good man?" Stan asked, Kyle nodded.

"I'm great, amazing even," Kyle said, he gestured vaguely as he spoke.

Stan stayed silent for a moment.

Kyle heaved a heavy sigh, "I think I fucked up the first day I landed."

"That was years ago, and just now it's affecting you?" Stan asked. He kicked up his feet to rest on the table.

"Yeah, and Kenny's sort of being an ass. He can trust us, he can trust us more than anyone else in this fucking town!" There's an exasperated exhale as he comes down from the near shout, "How come he's not telling us?"

Stan shrugged, "That's his business, if he doesn't want to tell us, just respect that."

"But-"

"Respect it," Stan pressed, "He might fess up to you first if you just give him time."

"I doubt it," Kyle muttered, barely loud enough for Stan to hear. His tail is snaking around his waist tightly. Tight enough he can feel it sting just a bit.

"Dude. Firstly, calm down," Stan said, Kyle glared at him. The ravenette simply gestured to the prehensile appendage squeezing the air from Kyle's lungs. He drops it, "Secondly, you're his best friend. If he's telling anyone it'll be you."

Kyle gave a hesitant nod, "Yeah, that makes sense."

Stan gave him a grin, comforting, grounding. He dropped down his feet and leaned over the table, holding out a hand. Kyle placed his atop Stan's, his hand was larger. Cyan tinted fingertips tapping along an open palm, "It's fine man, he'll tell us soon enough. It's not like he can keep a secret forever."

"No, you're right man. He can't keep a secret from us forever," Kyle said, a small grin on his face as Stan tightened his grip.

"Now stop stressing so much," Stan said, "Go get some calamari or whatever."

-/-/-/-

Kyle finds the next tape in a vent on top of Unplanned Parenthood while he's on a mission. He's quick to slide it into his pocket before Mysterion can notice. He can't just, jeopardize this discovery, he isn't even sure if he can call it a discovery if he's sure of what it is.

A shoulder collides with him and he stumbles just a bit. His arms are quick to push Mysterion right back up again. There's a crack down his lips and he looks to Kyle, "Get your head in the game, Kite!"

A blast of something or other comes straight at them and there's a brief second of hesitation before Mysterion is tossed out of the way and Kyle is ducking. The blonde is easily caught again and placed down, "Gladly," He takes Mysterion's hand, "Show me how?"

There's a smirk, bone chilling to many but it only makes Kyle's stomach flutter. Mysterion tightens his grip briefly, "Let's go then."

He's quick to launch Kyle forward with a running start, the alien tackling down whichever thug is on them now. Claws detract and tear through silver hued gloves as he snarls, easily dwarfing the goon. They're shaking as Kyle bares his fangs, tail thrashing about and body hunched in a predatory stance. Is he snarling? He is, he's proud of it too as he brings himself to be face to face.

He rears back on his knees, clawed hand raised and ready to slash. He goes to tear open their throat, but a grasp at the back of his collar prevents him. It short circuits him a little bit as the fabric of gloves press against cool skin.

"My friend here isn't exactly human," Mysterion said calmly as he released Kyle's costume. He stayed still and glanced up to Mysterion.

There's a shaky nod from the thug.

"Now, you have two options," Mysterion said. His tongue briefly slid between lips to capture the blood seeping from the crack. He circled around the dropped person a bit more, "Number one, you leave. You run to Canada, and never bother us again."

No response.

"Number two, Human Kite kills you. Right here," Mysterion snaps his fingers and as practiced Kyle gnashes his fangs with a growl, "Right now."

"I'll run! I'll leave!" The convict practically screamed.

"Fine, Kite?" Mysterion said. Claws come down atop the goons eye, deep enough to scar and maybe to go blind in one eye. Kyle stands up, red contrasting the cyan of his fingertips, he watches them run and revels in it.

Once they're far off, darting down staircases and running through the streets, does Mysterion take a seat. He drops down on the roof and Kyle takes a seat beside him, frilled tail wrapping around Mysterion's waist. A hand comes to push back the hood and he leans his head on Kyle's shoulder.

"Dude, being a hero is so sucky," Kenny said with a light laugh, "I just wanna get killed sometimes."

Kyle gives a hum.

"I just come back anyways, but we seriously haven't faced anyone actually dangerous in years," Kenny said, gesturing vaguely as he spoke to drive in the point.

"Definitely," Kyle said, Kenny dropped down onto his back. Kyle leans back to meet him in eye contact.

"I miss when this shit was fun," Kenny said, a sigh on his voice as he spoke.

"I think that most of us do," Kyle answered with. His tongue, forked, flickered out for a brief second.

"You're just like a snake man," Kenny said.

Cyan rose to Kyle's face, "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Like, your tongue. It looks like a snakes, forked," Kenny said, he did the spock thing with his hands as if to display forked. He stuck out his tongue at the same time, "It's really fucking cool. You got some scales right? And those weird little ridges on your back? All of those are snake-y things, Kyle."

"Yeah, cause I'm a freakish little dude," Kyle said extravagantly, as if to make his point he gave a set jazz hands, gloves off to expose to smallest bit of cyan webbing. He sticks out his tongue between too sharp teeth, "Absolutely monstrous."

"I'd hardly say 'little' is the word for you, ya six foot monster," Kenny taunted back, "And I love ya for that man."

Kyle barely beats down the intensifying flush on his face, "Well, won't stop me from being at least a little bit snake like. It's more fun to be a weird creature than a human anyways," He drops down and nudges Kenny's shoulder with his head until he sits up and nudges off the silvery cape. A hand rests in a tangle of red curls for a brief moment before the alien curls around Kenny's back.

"You're also very... Cat. Very feline. Very not human," Kenny said, words teasing but loving nonetheless.

He rested his hand on top of Kyle's head, gently sifting through a sea of red. He leaned back on his friends torso a little bit as he brought a second hand to run through Kyle's hair. He shifted around a bit to rest almost on his knees, facing Kyle just a bit more. His side pressed to Kyle's lower rib cage, his hands didn't leave the redheads hair for a second. He slid down his friends face just a bit, callused thumbs briefly brushing over the ever sensitive auricle fins he had. Were they fins? Not quite, just cyan flares at the base of pointed ears.

He let his fingers scritch just past the back of Kyle's ears, resting atop the buzzed patch of hair. Olive green eyes fluttered shut as Kenny just rubbed right there, the sweet spot. He slumps into Kenny's hands, chin resting at the heel of his palm (he can't see the gentle smile on Kenny's face).

The blonde nearly explodes when Kyle starts to purr. It starts soft, but it slowly grows, shaking Kenny down to his core with his side pressed against Kyle's diaphragm. Or his lungs. Or his whatever it is that makes that wonderful rumbling sound giving Kenny enough serotonin to live forever. He already will, but this is making that eternity sound a lot more bearable. Then he hears a thudding- three, soft thumps before it resets and happens again. His tail is wagging, Kyle really likes being scratched behind the ears apparently.

Kenny's pretty sure he's falling asleep with the pads of his finger, despite being rough and scratchy, gently rubbing behind his ears. He lifts his fingers for a second too long and Kyle opens up his eyes, "Why'd you stop?" He sounds groggy and disappointed, he stops purring.

Kenny picks up the motions, "You were falling asleep," He tosses his cape over Kyle's form.

Kyle lazily blinks, one eye, then the other. He shrugs the best he can, "And?"

"Good point," Kenny said on a hum as he twirls a finger through curls, a light tug.

Kyle's tail starts to thud again and he's sure the afterglow of this will never fade.

-/-/-/-

Kyle's feeling a little bit guilty about tuning into this tape.

Not nearly enough to make him stop though.

He drops down on his bed comfortably, he doesn't even bother to put in his earbuds. His parents are out for the weekend, his brother is at Kenny's to hang out with Karen, presumably fishing. He knows that he's bound to get a call from Ike sometime in the night for a ride, for Ike, Karen, and maybe even Kenny if it's really rough. But, he'll have enough time to listen to the entirety of it.

He presses play.

I think shits getting worse I'm not using these things properly I should be using these for literally anything else! I could talk about how much I worry about my sister, or my money problems, or whatever!

But I'm still using these tapes for just a few little things

Mostly talking about Kite Not gonna use his actual name this time cause someone heard me last week I'm pretty sure I ran them out of town For good

Do I feel bad about that?

Absolutely not

Gotta protect a mans privacy, even if that means blood and intimidation Which uh, I swear it didn't involve blood This time at least

Now, log number... nine? I'm pretty sure this is number nine I would go back and check 'em all out again, but I lost one of them No clue where the little fucker went But it's gone

Kyle pauses the tape. There's missing ones- he needs to find it before Kenny does. He can just put it back later, like he'll do with this one after he's done thoroughly listening to it. He put back the last one, slid it back into the hidden pocket and acted like it never happened.

Of course, since then he's always checked the hidden pocket whenever he got a chance to do so. But, he's been unlucky in terms of finding any up until this one which leaves him with the idea that the rest have been planted around town. He shuts off his rampant train of thought- he is not going to try and sleuth out all of the tapes. He still has some respect for Kenny's privacy, he still has some intention to keep their friendship intact, and most importantly, he still has full intention of never acting on any of what he hears in said tapes.

That would give away that he's been listening to them, a risk he can't take. He clicks the button again.

Look, I always knew Kite was a weird one Everyone does The guys alien, so we cut him some slack on human things that go mostly unspoken

Conversational subtext, call frequency, having beer on ice- simple shit

And in turn, we also try to learn a bit about his species culture I don't even know if species is the right word Does that make me racist? Are aliens even a race to be racist against? Could I even discriminate if only... Three, exist on earth?

So many questions, so little time

Of course, there isn't exactly a lot about his kind I doubt there's a lot of his kind His mom keeps making quips about how all of them would come to earth if it was easier to integrate But honestly? If you just got rid of the alien extremities I would not be able to tell that Kite isn't human

Same with his parents The lot of them blend in perfectly Don't know why she stresses so much And even if they didn't, they have a human to vouch for them A bunch of humans actually

There's a brief pause where Kyle let's himself think about that for a moment. He's never had a chance to think about it before. He doesn't really dwell on it for longer than a minute, flipping himself onto his stomach. His tail lazily sways back and forth as he listens/

I think I got off point there

Allow me to relocate and get back to what I was supposed to be talking about

. . .

There is a fucking line, Kite! You stay on your side of the line! You can't just walk over to my side! Just waltz on over like you own the fucking place! And just, act like it's no big deal! You just sit down right next to me. Like. Right next to me, are thighs are fucking pressed against each other and you lean into me! You just, push your head up against my shoulder like a fucking cat until I give you attention

Which I always do I'm weak

And then you start purring, and your tail does a dumb little wag! And I'm sitting there, begging and pleading, that I don't do something dumb You're putty in my fucking hands Asking me to just shower you in attention! I do, I always do- I always sit there and give you attention

Whatever it is you want I'd give it to you I'd do it for you Anything, for you

The voice softens just a bit, lowering itself. He sounded so very, very mad. Not even mad, just agitated. His voice is heady, wrapped into the narrative he's spinning so accurately. Kyle feels his stomach flip at the words droning so deeply into his skull. The notions made his skin tingle, heart pulsating so very fast he wouldn't be shocked if it exploded all at once.

But no! I stay on my side of the line Like a good boy

Because I don't wanna freak him out Or scare him off

I feel like such a fucking perv And I am a bit pervy I am fully aware of the fact that I am known to stare if someone fine is walking by

But.

To stare at Kite? To want Kite?

It definitely caught me off guard

And he isn't human He doesn't get it I touch him I feel like I'm dirtying him Even if it's just a high five! I have too much on mind for this shit

I see that idiot and you know what I wanna to do?

Do you even wanna to know what I want do to him?

Kyle slams the pause button, he can feel his nerves shoot up in shock. His tail has went from lazily thumping back and forth to wagging like that of a dogs. The minute ridges on his back are shaking, just a bit. He may be mildly cold-blooded, but right now he really can't tell.

He looks down at his hands and they're entirely cyan, normally just a little bit at the tips. The hue shoots up his forearms. He can practically hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest, the sound bangs back and forth in his skull.

Oh.

Oh he's opened up a massive can of worms with this tape.

He keeps listening

I'd just

I would-

Fuck man I can't even say it out loud I don't know what I was thinking!

I'm sitting on top of city hall and I was about to go off about how I'd fuck him!

Could I even fuck him? Are the species compatible? Do aliens even have reproductive organs?

They must They totally do How else do they, how do they reproduce? Eggs?

. . . Nasty

But I would fucking worship him I would do whatever he asked me too Even if he's too unversed in human reproduction to ask me too fuck him up I'd still do what he asks me too

You wanna go out at that new pizza place that charges by the minute? Let's go darling

You wanna go check out the newest arcade cabinet? Baby, the cars already running

You want me to get your logo as a tramp stamp? I might not do that one actually . That's a lie I'd do anything for him

. . .

God, I'm such a mess I need real therapy

Kyle has long since buried his face in a pillow to muffle his screams (although they're closer to high pitched squeals) and cover his ears. He feels like he's running a fever, a really, really bad fever. Every square inch of his body is on fire and he can't care much that he's clawing into his pillow, downy soft feathers spilling from gouges.

He's drawing a blank.

A complete and utter blank.

He hears the click signalling it's over and he feels his stomach twist in regret.

It's a lot easier to hide that you know something if said something isn't... that, whole thing that just happened. His ears are ringing a little bit as the words ping around the sides of his head, like a game of Pong. The pillow is still keeping his face covered as he rolls onto his back, then his side, then his front, and his side again, knees pressed flush against the wall. Fuck, he feels like he's sixteen all over again, and that was just three years ago! He's too young to be having moments like this.

He mechanizes his breathing, eyes wide open as he stares at the darkness of the space themed pillow case in front of him. Sheer darkness with the occasional blip of a lighter hue. His tail is still thrashing, whipping back and forth madly, he's sure it would scuff the wall if it hit it.

He has to come down from his safe space eventually. Even if that safe space is merely a pillow pressed to his face.

He tosses aside the pillow and rolls onto his back and just stares at the ceiling.

His entire existence has officially been flipped on it's head.

He hears his cell phone ring and he reaches for it, answering before even checking whose calling. He gives a cracked, "Hello?"

"Dude are you good? You sound like you've just been crying," Came Kenny's voice, concern laid on thick.

Kyle nearly hangs upon the spot but instead he bites his tongue and doesn't say a word.

"Look man, dads being a bit of an ass, and Ike was wondering if you could come pick him up for the umpteenth time," Kenny said. He gave a hum, "Could Karen tag along?"

"Totally man," Kyle answered with as he sat up, trying so hard to still his tail. It swiped back and forth atop the blankets, he felt a little bit wrong about not telling Kenny what he knew right now. But, this is a bad time to do that, any Kyle can lie his way out of it again. He hesitates before adding, "You need an escape too?"

"It'd be nice, but you already sound tired. Did I catch you at a bad time? Were you perhaps 'jacking it', my fine, alien friend?" Kenny asked tauntingly, his smugness was palatable.

Kyle wished he could just say 'yeah' and move on instead of carefully think over his next words. Life would much simpler if his head didn't catch on the usage of 'fine' in referral to himself. His mouth felt dry but he choked out some words anyways. "Dude, what makes you think I even have a dick? I got that weird ass alien biology, don't I?""

There's a laugh on the other side, "Hey man, not all of my shots are gonna be spot on. But really, if you don't want me over I won't come," There's an tenderness to his voice and the contrast to the almost gritty and desperate tone he had on the tape gives Kyle whiplash.

"You can if you want too, but I'll probably pass out pretty fast," Kyle lied. He'd just lay in bed, wide awake, for potentially hours with Kenny on the floor beside him. That's how it usually went at least.

"Going full on feral like you did earlier takes a lot out of you, doesn't it?" Kenny asked.

Silence.

"Silent treatment, did I strike a nerve bud? Regardless, we'll be out front in ten," Kenny said, "I can make you some hot coco if you'd like."

"That'd be nice," Was Kyle's weak response.

-/-/-/-

The night was a lot more tense than either of them wanted it to be.

They usually shared a hug before actually getting into bed and trying to pass out. And if not that then Kyle would subtly demand some time to just, co-exist, in very close proximity to each other. In even more minimal situations, they would just share some words of 'love you bro' and call it a night.

None of that transpired.

"I can just go home man," Kenny offered at the break of two AM.

Kyle rolled over to the edge of his bed, leaning over it just a bit, "It's fine."

"Is something wrong? Cause like, you've just been acting... off, lately," Kenny said gently as he propped himself on his elbows, both resting on his pillow.

"Nothings wrong," Kyle said, he crossed his arms and rested his chin on them, "I am gonna ask my parents some questions when they get back."

"About what?" Kenny asked quietly, as though he were afraid of shattering the night if he spoke too loud. The navy walls cast deep blue across the room, reflecting the moonlight in a comfortable darkness.

Kyle stayed silent.

"Alien stuff?" Kenny asked.

Kyle nodded, "Yeah, alien stuff."

"Fun," Kenny answered with a scoff. He dropped back down again and turned to face Kyle, Kyle's bed frame at least, "But for real, you're just- somethings going on in your head. I can tell."

Kyle shrugged, "It's stupid."

"I won't judge man, you're my best friend," Kenny said. And he said it in such a way that for a brief second Kyle forgot about the tapes entirely.

"How are you supposed to talk to someone about something you don't want too?" Kyle asked, trying to withhold and give equal amounts of information.

Kenny paused, "Work out the words in your head. Practice once or twice, maybe even record it. Figure out what needs to be reworked. Write it out if you must- just get it out of your head."

Kyle nodded.

"Trust me man, the second it's out of your head and off your shoulders, life will be easier," Kenny explained reassuringly, "Even if it's only for a second or two."

"Thanks bro," Kyle said quietly.

"Least I can do," Kenny said.

There's a beat of hesitance, "Love you man."

"Love you too," And then Kenny turns away from him, tugging the blanket up to his shoulders.

-/-/-/-

Kyle's pretty sure that Kenny is onto him at this rate, but, he tries to ignore the terrible slithering sensation that he's been caught.

He just focuses on whatever comes next.

This time it's none other than The Coon himself deciding he needs to bring something up with Kyle. Silence drenches the room in the worst way possible as he sits across from the hybrid. Furred ears are swiveled to face Kyle and it makes him feel impossibly nervous, he knows that Cartman can hear his heartbeat. Can it hear pick up speed when Stan sits down beside him, even more so when Wendy joins.

And then Clyde, Timothy, Jimmy- all on one side of Cartman.

Tweek and Craig sit down on the side with Wendy and Stan, Scott as well.

"We know you figured it out, Kyle," Cartman said calmly, tone frigid in a way that makes Kyle feel paralyzed. The hybrid clasps his hands together in front of himself on the table.

"Figured what out?" Kyle snaps back with, trying his hardest to muster the usual snarkiness he has around Cartman. Bute he fails, miserably at that. He just sounds pathetic, grasping at straws if nothing else.

"Don't play dumb," Wendy said, she sounded sharp. She may be tough as nails, and normally Kyle respects that, admires it even, but when it's directed towards him? He gets why people run from Call Girl.

"Why in the cosmos should I tell the likes of you?" Kyle answered with, feebly trying to defend Kenny's privacy.

A privacy that he had already thoroughly breached and ravaged, alongside the unspoken trust they had. He had wrecked it, ruined it, destroyed it- but he could salvage it from the fact Kenny didn't know that Kyle knew.

"You can trust us, Kyle. We're your best friends," Clyde said. And he was right, he was so right.

Kyle's tail snaked itself around the chair leg, "Really guys, I don't know what you're talking about-"

"His secret, Kyle," Cartman said, "Tell us."

"I," He hesitated, "I can't."

"You've already fucked up your relationship with him enough, Kyle. I got Wendy to do a deep dive on your species, and of the few things she could find, she discovered this," Cartman said. He raised a folder, an awful beige and orange hue, and slid it over to Kyle.

The alien hesitantly took it. It was three pages thick, presumably doubled sided. He opened it and skimmed through the headings, he knew every single trait in and out. He paused at the highlighted one, "You're joking."

"This is serious man," Stan said, "We wouldn't just accuse you of imprinting of Kenny without any basis."

"That's stupid. He's my best friend. That's all, that's our dynamic- the kind of dynamic that rakes in loads of cash," Kyle defended with, hoping that pressing on Cartman's one pressure point would make him let up. He slammed the folder shut and slid it back, "Even if I did imprint on him, it would ruin the franchise and never be reciprocated."

"Then tell us what the secret is, you have nothing to lose, no? Just a friend, they come and go on earth," Cartman said. He was calling Kyle's bluff, did he even realize it? He probably did, or if he didn't, he'd snoop until he did.

"Ask Professor Chaos instead, he knows more," Kyle said, trying so, so hard to deflect. The tension pooling everywhere under his skin was agonizing. He needed an out so bad, he needed an escape so, so fucking bad.

Cartman scoffs, "Already done, he said he was sworn to some oath of secrecy, sent us to you."

Kyle stays silent, forcing eye contact with the sleaze in front of the him. The trash eater himself, scraping tactics from the bottom of the barrel.

"Just tell us, no harm will come from it," Cartman said sternly.

"It'll destroy my friendship with Kenny," Kyle snarled out.

"No new harm will come from it, we all know the damage has been done my friend, it's just yet to be discovered," Cartman said, words cutting into Kyle like a knife.

He bites his tongue, Cartman's right, "Give me a week to collect more information on the subject, then I'll report back with the news."

There's a smug and satisfied grin on Cartman's face as he leans back, "See? That wasn't so hard, was now?"

Kyle stands up and pushes away from the table, "I'm going."

"Don't forget about your patrol with Mysterion tomorrow evening, Kite!" Cartman calls out, head leaned back on his chairs backrest.

Kyle's tail is swaying angrily, "Fuck off."

His fangs are grinding against each other as he storms off, if it weren't for the fact he was in suit he would punt the closest chihuahua like a football. Or do something else just as dumb. Maybe kick a fire hydrant and hope it doesn't dent, or punch a tree. Something to make the tense feeling uncoil, to let himself just relax for one second.

He doesn't deserve that though.

He's been uprooting the very foundations of his friendship with Kenny, all because of some morbid curiosity. And Kenny doesn't even fucking know. Kyle is just getting away with it cause he's being awfully slick with how careful he is to put everything back exactly where he found it.

The worst part is how long it's taken for him to feel genuine guilt about it if nothing else. He's such a fucking snake, biting onto his relationship with Kenny and refusing to let go. Sinking fangs deeper and deeper, searching for more even though it's cannibalizing itself. And the first taste is all that it takes to get someone hooked, shame that the thing he got a taste of was metaphorical guts. Kenny just hasn't realized he's stuck in this ouroboros of a relationship.

Despite that, a really twisted and messed up part of him persists in wondering when he'll find the next tape.

-/-/-/-

He finds the next tape almost a week after the interrogation.

Although, we're using the term 'find' rather loosely here. Instead it sort of, fell directly into his lap. And despite knowing better and not wanting to go any further, he still held onto it and didn't let go.

"Thanks for washing my gear man," Kenny said as he stood at the door, Kyle held the bundle of purple fabrics in hand.

He gave a smile, as convincing as he could manage, "No problem man, least I can do."

"See ya tomorrow bro," Kenny said before pivoting on a heel to leave which struck Kyle as odd. The blonde usually loitered for a little bit, chatted casually about whatevers on his head. But none of that came today.

Still, Kyle closed the door and walked down to the luandry room before shaking out the purple. There was that clatter, plastic against unfinished flooring, it was just concrete at the moment. He tossed in the clothing and flipped on the spin cycle with a bit of lavender scented soap. He slid down the front of the washing machine and stared at the tape.

He shouldn't.

He really shouldn't.

He does.

He grips the tape and slams it into the player and hits the play button before he can further question his actions.

I know you're hearing this, Kyle I don't know how long you've been listening to my diary for But it's you It has to be you

Kyle swears his heart stops dead in its tracks. He barely registers that the grit Kenny forces when he's acting out Mysterion has disappeared. That this is just Kenny now.

Who else would be messing with my tapes They're never just right when you put them back You leave scuff marks on the plastic I can fingerprint things, Kyle

I planted this one And log number twelve The rest though? I don't know how many of those you've heard

I'll admit I never meant for number three to fall into your hands I just thought you'd be kind enough to not listen in

. . . How wrong I was

And it's a real shame too You better not have told the rest of the team, Kyle I will make you regret every single breath you've taken if you have

But, that's only if I can get that intel from the gang Do be warned that Cartman is very easy to persuade It won't take me much longer than ten minutes to make him crack

The rest will go even faster Although, I'd give Wendy much longer Craig? He'll be shattering in seven minutes, tops Tweek? Three, maybe four Stan? He trusts me more than you'd expect, he won't even fight

I hope I was right about you being smart, Kyle

Kyle's blood turns to ice.

He is so fucked.

At least he didn't tell Cartman.

You already know my big secret And you have two options, Kyle

Option one: Meet me at Starks Pond tonight to confirm how you feel about the contents of these logs. I'm probably sitting there right now

Option two: Don't. This horrible relationship limbo can remain just like this, on my end I've been stuck here for years

Look, Kyle, what you've done here You're forcing my hand I don't have any other options

Do what you want

I clearly can't stop you

The tape is flung from the cassette player to the other side of the room, it hits the wall and cracks. A thousand regrets pool in the pit of Kyle's stomach and he wants to vomit. He also wants to curl up in a ball and die. Or live in Cartman's basement instead, those are all good options.

But in the same breath...

He's being given a choice when he was sure this whole thing he had with Kenny would simply implode, collapse in on itself and die. He has one chance to make this better than it is. He'll never be able to make this right, but, he can at least try and reinforce the breaking pieces before it's entirely broken.

He picks himself up off the ground and starts on his way up the stairs. He freezes at the door, is he gonna do this? Is he gonna go out to Starks Pond and talk like he should've far too long ago?

Yeah, yeah he fucking is.

The real question is if he's actually gonna say whats been fueling his co-dependency with Kenny for so long.

He isn't sure if he'll manage to fess up to the stupidest biological function he has. He'll try, he'll make an attempt to explain exactly what's been conspiring inside of his head without him even realizing for so many years. He'll at the very least get out a couple words to explain the dumbest thing he's been roped into by his own genetics and unfortunate timing.

-/-/-/-

The ever-present snow and ice crunches under Kyle's boots, but that's the last thing he's focusing on. His eyes are trained ahead of hi as he walks along the edge of Starks Pond. His tail is still, a very rare occurrence.

When he reaches the edge of the pond that Kenny's standing at he's lost his words. The blonde is just staring at him, looking for tells. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his orange jacket, bright orange, pumpkin orange. Kyle can't focus on anything.

"It worked, you nosy little shit," Kenny said, words weaponized with ease.

"Yeah, it worked," Kyle said. He took a step closer, "I'm sorry," and then another, "For everything really," A third step and Kenny tenses, flinching back just a bit. In turn Kyle steps back.

"For what? Did you tell them?" Kenny asked defensively. He sounded scared more than anything else.

"I know better than that Kenny, they did interrogate me though," Kyle explained stiffly.

Kenny gives a hum, "That gets that problem out of the way."

Kyle nods, "Yeah, that it does."

"So, you listened to three, nine, twelve, and seven, right?" Kenny asked.

"Sorry," Kyle said.

"At least have the decency to dignify me with an answer man, you just fucking ruined me. I had to record that final tape five times before it was good enough to use. I swear to god, normally I'd cut you some slack and now you know why, but not this time," Kenny spat sharply, "So, you listened to those tapes, right?"

"Yep, the four that you listed," Kyle said, his attempt to stay professional just made him sound stiff and disjointed.

This time Kenny faltered before speaking, "And your opinions on them?"

"Positive," Kyle answered with faster than a bullet. His tail flicked as he spoke.

"Anything else?" Kenny asked, desperation heavy on his voice. Thick like molasses.

"I think I imprinted on you- which means something different then it does for the ducks!" Kyle was quick to backtrack on his words, Kenny just looked intrigued, "My species has a 'thats the one' instinct. If we find the right person, it activates, and according to my parents at least, it's usually subliminal. When we landed, I imprinted on you- so, to me, you're the one. And for all I know, unless you die and stay dead, that stupid ass hormonal flux won't go down."

Kenny stayed silent.

"I'm stuck fixating on you until one of us dies, my kind mates for life, and unless I submit myself to experimental science the animal part of my brain is gonna keep screaming that you're mine. Which is kind of annoying, and dumb, and gets in the way- and I didn't even realize it until I found that first tape. I've just been infatuated with you since grade four and I don't know how to make it stop," Kyle spilled, some words meshing together in a blend of syllables. Cyan progressively rose to his face the entire time he spoke. He dropped down to the ground, facing away from Kenny and towards the water, "I'm so fucking sorry Kenny."

Kenny took a few tentative steps closer to where Kyle sat, his tail lay curled around him yet limp on the ground. His ears were drooping a bit and he looked ashamed of himself, a little bit distraught at that. "I'm not gonna disown you, Kyle. That'd just be fucking stupid."

"I didn't mean to ruin your life man, you could've been scoring. God, I probably scared off so many people without even realizing it," Kyle choked out weakly. He pressed his nails into the heel of his palm, "I swear I didn't mean to imprint on you. I swear man- I can try and suppress it."

"It's fine, Kyle," Kenny said as he crouched down beside Kyle. He bumped their shoulders together.

No response.

Okay, that was worrying. It struck a particular chord in the depths of Kenny's chest. One very, very similar to the 'my sister is hurt' chord, which unlocks a specific subset of reactions. Those reactions include:

A: Unbridled violence on whoever caused this B: Giving tried and true advice C: Terrible jokes and playful punches D: Just listening with or without a glass of warm milk

None of those options seem optimal, so Kenny improvises.

"I mean, the whole 'imprint' thing doesn't bother me," Kenny said as he sat down behind Kyle. His knees were bent and he rested his head on Kyle's shoulder.

"Dude I fucking ruined your life," Kyle got out quietly, his tail snapped to punctuate his sentence. It wrapped itself around Kenny's thigh, just above his knee.

"Beg to differ," Kenny said as he slowly raised his hands up. He gently placed them at the base of Kyle's skull, he tensed but didn't move. Kenny slowly rubbed circles in just behind Kyle's ears in the hopes it would calm him down.

Kyle leaned back into Kenny a bit, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"Half of those tapes were me going off about how much I adore you and want you, Kyle. I know you have a brain in there, put it to some use," Kenny said, a small grin on his face as he spoke. He could feel Kyle start to purr, "Just think about it."

Kyle paused for a moment, to just let all of the data sink in. He felt like a total idiot when the conclusion formed in his head, "Oh."

"Yeah," Kenny answered with, "Good thing."

"I'm such a fucking idiot," Kyle said with a laugh on his voice. He squeezed a bit tighter around Kenny's leg, constricting, like a snake, "Can't wait to confirm my families suspicions."

"Do they think we're a thing?" Kenny asked as he combed his fingers through Kyle's hair.

Kyle nodded, "Probably, apparently I've been signalling some very, very vulgar and subtle things to you with my tail for the past six years. I didn't even notice my tail was moving half the time, but it was- mom and dad had to explain that to me which was fun."

"Did you stop?" Kenny asked.

"Naw, definitely not," Kyle answered with smugly, "You never knew anyways."

Kenny gives a hum, "I would say I was giving some vulgar signs myself, but humans don't have a good way to do that discretely."

"I've noticed," Kyle said, "I can read half of you like books with all the tells each of you have."

"Guess Ill have to be even more mysterious so the guys don't catch on," Kenny said as Kyle started to purr, the vibrations rapidly picking up in volume. It felt nice.

"They aren't idiots dude," Kyle said, "They'll catch on soon enough."

"Or we could just walk in there holding hands one day, wait for someone to point it out and go 'yeah we're dating now' and just act like nothing has changed," Kenny said, "Even if we don't go to the movies or eat out at restaurants- that'd be funny."

"We'll see what happens first," Kyle answered with. He holds his breath for a beat, "Love you, Kenny," There's a veritable depth to the words now.

"Love you, Kyle," Kenny answered with the same as he always has, Kyle just never noticed the subtext. He presses a brief kiss to Kyle's forehead.

-/-/-/-

Stan is the first one too notice that Kyle and Kenny are different. A good different though. They're more synced up on the field, better at silent communication, just predicting each other in general. It definitely benefits the team as a whole for the crime-fighting, but whether or not the development is good for the franchise is a whole other story.

He's the first one to ask around about it too.

"Hey Wendy, Kyle and Kenny-"

"Are acting off? I noticed," Wendy said, cutting Stan short with ease. She glanced up from her phone, "I'm already scouring about for details."

"Anything actually come up?" Stan asked.

Wendy shook her head, "Nope, you'd assume that there'd be something; but most searches are coming up dry."

"Worth a shot," Stan said with a sigh.

"You should go ask Craig, he's pretty close to Kenny," Wendy offered up and before she could finish her sentence Stan was looking for Craig.

He was sitting at his desk as usual, cruddy costume and all.

"Craig whats up with Kyle and Kenny?" Stan asked.

And without skipping a beat Craig answered with, "They're homosexuals, Stan."

"What?" Came Stan's dead response, words hollow and in disbelief.

Craig nodded to the aforementioned duo walking in, "Go ask why they're holding hands."

Stan faltered.

"Listen, if you're afraid I'm right you should've asked out Kyle sooner to avoid it," Craig blatantly accused, the words forced the air from Stan's lungs like a sucker punch.

Now aware that Craig is going to keep mentally gut punching him, Stan just heads on off to Kyle and Kenny. They are indeed holding hands, and Kyle's tail is wrapped around Kenny's thigh, just above his knee.

"Look, you two," Stan began with.

"Yeah man, what's up?" Kyle asked, and he's hiding a grin poorly. He's sure that it adds to the confusion Stan is displaying.

Kenny was right.

This is pretty fucking funny.

"How come you guys are holding hands?" Stan asked quietly.

"Kyle imprinted on me," Kenny said bluntly, "We're dating now."

"How long has this been going on for?" Stan asked.

Kyle shrugged, "A month, we were waiting for you guys to notice."

Craig gives a smug, "Told you so!" from his desk.

"Were you guys betting on what was happening?" Kenny asked, an undertone of a snicker to his voice.

"No, even if we did Craig would've won," Stan said spitefully.

Kyle grins a bit, "No need to be sour man, you can still break the news to Cartman, I'm sure it'll be hysterical to see his reaction."

"Dude. Let's go find Cartman," Kenny said eagerly, he was practically vibrating where he stood. Hes grinning that gap tooth grin, "I need to see his reaction right now."

"Wanna tag along?" Kyle asked, holding out a hand to Stan.

He refrained from taking it, "Totally man."

Craig sidles up beside the three of them, "I got a camera to record it."

#south park #south park k2 #sp k2 #south park fanfiction #south park fic #kysterion #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #tw mild gore #tw swearing #tw betrayal #as you all know i was once again staring at artwork by kennysdeadbody. as i usually do writing K2. specifically those kitenny doodles.#kite is really just a creature. big ol' cat. he purrs.#kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #stan marsh #small headcanon that craigs gaydar is off the motherfucking shits (also wanted to let him say faggot(I didnt))

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redheadspark · 1 year

Note

HEYYY can you please do #22 “I thought you were going home for Christmas.” - “Well, I couldn’t leave you all alone.” And #10 mistletoe for Azriel?? I absolutely adore your fics with Azriel ILYSM thank you!

A/N: I think this is perfect for Azriel! I'm gonna tweak it a bit since they do Winter Solstice and not Christmas! Thank you for the request!

Frostbite

Summary: Velaris was beautiful during the first snowfall of Winter, if only you weren't spending it alone.

Warnings: Just some fluff

"And there we go,"

You sighed in relief as the fireplace was now active with a roaring fire. You had your kettle going on the stovetop to get you ready for some tea as the whistle sounds of the first snowfall was heard. It was a soft sound, but you knew it for certain as the snowflakes were touching the outside of your window. Reaching over to drape the blanket that was on the couch around your shoulders, you walked over to the window to see the ground started to be tainted in white and the trees were swaying in the wind.

Winter in Velaris was gorgeous.

You loved every seasons in Velaris, every since you came here so long ago after growing up in Autumn Court, you got to see and experience the four seasons and see the majesty that could only be in the City of Starlight. Springs were filled in colors and flowers blooming along the hillside and the bottom of the mountains. Summers were meant for dips in the river and bay with skins being tainted in the sun and ripe oranges for the picking. Autumns showed every shade of oranges and browns along the majestic tree line with the aroma of fresh apple pies.

But winter, winter was beyond breathtaking.

You loved all of it: the cold that blew through but wasn't unbearable, the snow that covered all of the city but was still soft enough to touch with your fingers, and the Winter Solstice joy and happiness with the celebration. There was something about the winter season that always made you smile and feel pure joy, even when you were on your own for some time.

Not fully alone though, you said some friends in Velaris. Your best friend was Mor, part of the Inner Circle of the Night Court who helped run and protect Velaris. It was a tight knit group, High Lord Rhysand was the head of the Inner Circle with some of his close knit friends around him including Mor. She introduced you to them when you two got close, meeting each member and finding them all fascinating and intriguing. They were loyal to Rhysand, acting more like his siblings than anything and yet they were just as powerful.

One of them was Azriel, the Spymaster and aloof Illyrian soldier who could break the neck of a fae within a second. From what you were told of him, Azriel was dangerous, lethal, and someone to fear and stay away from.

It never occur to you and you would fall in love with him.

There was a knock at the door, making you pause as you took off the whistling kettle on your stovetop. It was rather late to get a visitor at your apartment, and most of the people in Velaris were getting ready for Winter Solstice. You were planning on spending it alone since the peace and quiet would do some good for you, and since you had no family to go to, your apartment was nice and cozy enough for you to enjoy the silence. The knock came again as you walked to the front door, opening it slight and your eyes going wide.

Azriel, in his leathers and a hint of snow in his hair as he was looking down at you. You were shocked.

"Az?" You asked, seeing him beam down at you as he leaned down to wrap you in his arms and hold you close in an intimate hug. You chuckled, pulling him close and feel him hoist you up in the air a bit.

Telling the High Lord of Night Court that you were mates with his Spymaster was nerve-wracking to say the least, but Azriel never wanted to leave his High Lord in the dark. You and Azriel have been dating for several months in secret, wanting to feel out your relationship together and see if it could be serious before you both felt the bond snap in. It was better that you two were best friends long before Azriel asked you on a proper date, setting up a private dinner for you at the House of Wind with a breathtaking view of Velaris below. It was one of the most magical nights you ever had, and kissing him under the stars was the picture perfect ending.

You two were inseperable ever since, letting things natural evolve with your love for one another and not letting the others know at first. Azriel wanted to protect you mostly, knowing that being with the Spymaster meant your safety might he in jeopardy if he was working and spying against other Courts.

Knowing that and knowing Azriel was never onto flaunting you in public, you never minded since he was nothing but kind and loving to you. You both wanted to keep it under wraps, up until you bond came through and Azriel knew then that Rhysand needed to know about your relationship.

"I thought you were going to be with the other soldiers at the training camp for Solstice?" you said to him as he lowered you to the ground and kissed you on the top of you head. Ruffling his hair to get the last of the snow off, you giggled as some of it got on your head while he closed the door behind him.

"Well, I couldn't leave you alone, could I?" He asked you as he tucked your blanket around your shoulders a bit more, "Besides, Cassian has it covered up there with the new recruits,"

"Nesta kicked him out of the House of Wind for the night, didn't she?" You asked in a coy manner, Azriel just grinning as you rolled your eyes, "Hang your coat and off with the boots. Don't tell me you flew in this weather,"

"This is nothing," Azriel reassured you while he stripped his leather jacket and tore off his boots to leave by the door, "I know there's going to be major storm that will come through in the next few days. Rhysand wanted me to let you know that tomorrow morning he'll have a room ready for you at the Townhouse,"

"Is that a suggestion or an order from my High Lord?" You asked him, seeing Azriel merely give you a loving gaze as he strolled over to tuck his arms in yours and barely nuzzle his nose against your own for you to feel how cold his skin was.

"Since you're my mate....it was a suggestion, and given the fact that the Townhouse has magic that can make you comfortable, I think you should take it." Azriel reasoned politely, having you pause at him as you sighed and gave in.

"Fine, only because you are asking me, not Rhysand," You replied, Azriel kissing the tip of your nose and moving to be perched on the couch, "He makes it sounds like this apartment will not be comfortable for me,"

"I've told you before that he likes this apartment," Azriel commented as you walked over to the kitchen to grab your cup with piping hot tea steaming. Grabbing the tea bag you wanted, you perched it in the water and walked back over to Azriel, sitting next to him on the couch and feeling him pull you close with an arm around your shoulders.

"Rhysand has a way of saying something, but it means something less, thanks to his tone," You said, Azriel grinned as you eyed him, "You should know most of all."

"He just wants to make you comfortable during the storm," Azriel reminded you, "Rhysand and Feyre are at the River House, Cassian and Nesta are at the House of Wind, and Armen is at Winter Court,"

"What about Mor?" You asked him.

"She's at Armen's old penthouse, house sitting for her," He answered you, "So the Townhouse was going to be just for us,"

"I can do plenty of baking and writing there then," You hummed in agreement while you took a long sip from your tea, "It will be nice to be in a place that's spacious."

"We can still move into the Townhouse. The offer is still on the table," Azriel reminded you softly as he pushed some of the strands of your hair behind your ears with his fingers. You eyes him, clutching your cup a bit too long as he was watching for your reaction.

Rhysand, after hearing that you both were mates, offered to give you the Townhouse as a permanent home for you two. He thought of it as a peace offering and a gift. Yet it seemed like too much of a gift to get from him, and although you decline it carefully and with grace, Rhysand understood. He knew that you were more prone in working the grind and not being given gift after gift, the guilt of that would haunt you every once in awhile. You felt bad turning it down, yet The High Lord never took it the wrong way. He left the offer open, at any time you wanted to take the Townhouse it would be yours with no argument.

Azriel knew you had pride, you never wanted to take something without giving something back in return. You always worked for all that you had, even the mismatched furniture in your little apartment it was from your work and from your hands. Azriel loved that about you, and he knew you never wanted to have a hand out given to you. So when you shot down that offer, he knew where you were coming from.

"I love this place too much to let it go," You explained to him, seeing him gaze at you as you gestured to the small living room, "I know it's not extravagant or massive or perfect but...it's mine. This is the first place I've ever had on my own in Velaris, and I put a lot in these walls to let it go--"

"I get it," Azriel interrupted you gently, taking your cup from your hand to place it on the end table and lace your fingers together, "You worked hard to be where you are, and you can't just let it go to another person. Your hardworking and the love in this place makes it yours, and I feel all the love from you when I come in here. I just...I just want you safe, sweetheart."

"You're far too stubborn to have me any less," you joked, hearing him lightly chuckle as you cocked your head at him.

"What if you keep this place and we still move into the Townhouse?" He suggested with you, making you raise an eyebrow as he went on, "You can come here if you want to have an escape or just some alone time, and I'll have the safe state of mind that you're going to be fine wherever you go?"

"And we use this apartment as a getaway?" You pondered with him, though a cocky grin was now on his face as you snuggled into him a bit more, "Like...a place just for us and we wish to--"

"I think you get the point," He said to stop you from finishing the sentence. You only laughed, kissing his cheek as you both were snuggling on the couch. This kind of atmosphere with Azriel was something you've always wanted: light and filled with intimacy and love morphed together. No mattered if you were at the luxurious House of Wind or in this small and cramped apartment: Being with Azriel was more than enough.

"Happy Winter Solstice, my love," Azriel murmured to you as you both were watching the fire dance in the fireplace. You curled into him some more with your tea in hand, feeling his scarred hands move along your shoulder blades.

"Happy Winter Solstice," You replied.

The End.

Winter Prompts

#acotar #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #azriel acotar #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight

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elmundodeflor · 13 days

Text

CRACKS ON PORCELAIN - a gift for @someonestolemyshoes

READ THE FULL FIC ON AO3

The third flash of realization comes unexpected, one late-night where he's bathing them. He had to drag them there, — out into the common showers. They would have stayed in their room for another day, signing off papers and permissions, hadn’t he done so.

“Oi”, he’d asked, soon as he’d opened the door. “How long has it been?”

Hanji’d barely looked up at him.

“My brain’s fried, Levi.”, they’d sighed, as they ran their fingers through their hair. Good thing he didn’t even need to be specific. “I can barely remember my own name by now.”

He’d nodded.

“More of a reason to get moving, then.”

Now, mercurial blue hours twinkle in the haze between dusk and morning. Hanji’s bare before him, and the pale moonshine traces contours on their body. They’re concave and convex, frail and strong. All too swift, all at once. Levi can’t help but find shapes upon their back, — like he’s connecting dots between muscle and scar. A planet, a cloud. He pretends that he’s a painter. That each stroke of light and shadow brings his work to life.

He lathers up soap between his hands. Water ripples at each one of his movements, as he washes down their neck, their nape, their shoulders. He’s careful handling them, — he always has been. There’s a part of him that feels that Hanji’s made of glass, — that a single blow could shatter them to pieces. They don’t need the extra pressure— the world puts enough on them already. It’s why he holds them with sheer delicacy— as if they’re Erwin’s vase, and he’s trying to bring their broken back to earth. Not everyone gets to see the softer sides of him, but Hanji; — Hanji’s different. They understand him— simple and complex as that. Everyone else is intimidated by his presence, and yet they tease him for being clean-cut. Will say titans don’t shit just to play around with him.

His fingers trickle down their spine, their waist; shy, meticulous. As if all his endings have turned to sea-foam. They have a secret pact. A tacit agreement that goes unexplored, untouched in moments like these, where they’re too hush and helpless. They don’t ask him why he does all of this for them, and he never speaks the two words that would give them enough of an answer.

“You stank, you know.”, he says, instead. His voice’s sweet, but then he stops himself.

He can feel bone under his palms. Sharp, and fierce and rigid. He doesn’t recall it being there before, the last time he’d bathed them. Sure, Hanji had always been skinny; tall, and with a languid frame. Still, it was never like this. It was never this bad. He would know. He’d engraved each scrap of them into his heart before.

When was the last time he’d even seen them eat?

He clears his throat, and swallows hard, and lets out a sigh. He can count each vertebra that pokes from under the skin. It seems that, beneath the shadows, they’re different phases of the moon: one crescent, one full. There’s little muscle in sight; only the thinness of flesh. The tough realization that this is all it’s come down to.

“Hanji…”

They tell him nothing back. They don’t wish to talk about it, and he knows better than to push them further. All of a sudden, it’s like they’re a kid who’s been caught red-handed. A famous criminal found at the theft scene.

It does make Levi’s soul shrink, — to watch them like this, all too small; knees pulled to their chest. They used to shine with every color in the rainbow; a whisp of bright and vibrant. Now, they’re only rain. Nothing but the cracks on a porcelain vase; no liquid gold to glue them back together.

He gets up from the chair he’s in, goes fetch for a warm, fluffy towel. Hanji stands up to their full height, and covers up their breasts with their hands, but he can see it, still. Their weak build, the protuberances on their hips and ribs. For a moment, it almost looks like they’ll bend and fall. Like water will weigh them down, and they’re not sturdy enough to carry themselves to make it.

He’s worried sick about them. Oh, God forbid, he’s so, so worried. He doesn’t understand, — how could he be this selfish; much too focused on his own pain to even notice Hanji’s.

“I’m cold.”, they whisper, barely audible.

And when he wraps them up in cloth, at last, beaming with all the love that he’s capable of, he can only promise himself one thing:

He won’t let them disappear. He can’t. He’ll never.

He won’t let Hanji Zoe become cracks on porcelain.

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rosanna-writer · 1 year

Text

sit with you in the trenches

Summary: Azriel's tendency to overwork himself has left his study in disarray and Gwyn on her own too often. After years of working in a library, she fixes it the only way she knows how: filing and color-coding.

(Also: The desk has too much paperwork on it to bend someone over, and she doesn't like that one bit.)

Pairing: Gwynriel

A/N: Just a short Gwynriel oneshot with some fluff and explicit smut. You can read the rest below or here on AO3.

Gwyn has the house to herself. Again. At least Azriel had been considerate enough to send a note this time, letting her know he'd be working late and not to wait up for him.

(She always waits up for him.)

It's nothing new— Azriel has always worked too hard. Their friends had confirmed that he'd always been this way, since long before he met her. Once over dinner with Cassian and Nesta (who were keeping her company because Az was off collecting secrets again), her brother-in-law told her he'd hoped Gwyn's influence would get Azriel to relax a bit more.

Apparently not.

He's not avoiding her, and if Gwyn had asked him to stay home tonight, he would have. But she shouldn't have to make plans just to see her mate.

There's no use in brooding about it or seeking her friends for company while she waits around, not while she can find a solution.

She lets herself into his study. Azriel's desk is covered in stacks of reports from spies, reference books, and his own notes. Any protective magic surrounding the documents won't keep her out. Azriel might know more secrets than anyone in Prythian, but he never kept a single one from her.

So Gwyn gets to work.

Azriel takes beautifully thorough notes— it's one of the many things Gwyn loves about him— but they are located all over the place. She groups related reports together, adds tables of contents, and drafts brief summaries at the beginning of each stack. She finds folders for everything. She color-codes. She rearranges his shelf of reference books so he'll be able to find what he needs faster.

(Mother above he'd been sorting them by color.)

She's still at it, drafting another summary document, when he appears in the doorway. Even though he hasn't made a sound, she still looks up as soon as he's there.

(She always knows when he's around.)

"I thought you'd be in bed," Azriel says, not bothering with a hello.

"Az!" Gwyn says, smiling at the sight of him.

Azriel crosses the room, too worried to return her smile. "Have you not been able to sleep?"

In truth, Gwyn hadn't noticed how late it had gotten or even bothered to change into nightclothes. "Actually, I haven't even tried to."

Then, Azriel's attention finally leaves his mate, and he takes in the new labels written in her neat handwriting and the distinct lack of piles of paperwork on the desk. "What have you been up to?"

Gwyn doesn't answer at first, just gets up from the chair and kisses him hello. Even with Azriel distracted, his shadows curl around the desk and the bookshelf, examining it.

The two of them break apart, and Gwyn sits down on the desk, her legs dangling over the edge. "You've been busy," she says, a little accusatory. "And that's fine, it's who you are, but for Cauldron's sake, Az, work smarter not harder."

"How is this supposed to help?" he says. It's a genuine question.

"Az, I work in a library," Gwyn says, letting out a huff of frustration. "I organized the information and books for you. Anything you need to refer back to should be easier to find now, and there are summaries so you don't have to re-read entire documents. I can walk you through the whole system in the morning."

Azriel doesn't say anything at first, and for a moment, Gwyn worries she's overstepped. She's good at reading him, better than anyone else, but it's not always easy when he's so stone-faced.

After a moment, he says, "Thank you, but you didn't have to go to all this trouble."

"It's not trouble— it's what I'm good at."

That, at least, gets him to smile, something that everyone else used to say was so rare for him.

(Azriel's smiles were never rare for her.)

Azriel leans down to kiss her, and it's gentle, but Gwyn's missed him too much today to be content with gentle. She places her arms on his shoulders to steady herself, then wraps her legs around his waist and tugs him closer. He trails his lips down to her neck.

"Should I take that to mean all this work didn't tire you out too much?" he murmurs.

Gwyn tilts her head back, pushing her chest into his as if she's trying to touch him with every square inch of her body. "I could have been tired out by now if you'd been home on time."

Azriel pulls back, and Gwyn can't fully hold back a small, disappointed noise at the sudden distance between them.

"You're not upset with me, are you?" he says, watching her carefully.

"No," Gwyn says, and she means it. She knows Azriel only throws himself into the work because he wants to get ahead of any threats to her, their family, or the Night Court. And those threats never cease. "But I don't like missing you, so I wanted to save you time. You don't ask for help enough."

"I love you," Azriel says, because that's all there is to say. Gwyn starts to say it back, but before she can get the words out, Azriel has already dropped to his knees in front of her. He rests his hands on the tops of her thighs. "I should have been home for dinner. Let me make it up to you."

With the way he's on his knees before her, rubbing his thumbs in gentle circles on the inside of her thighs, it's obvious how he's planning to do that. Gwyn unbuttons her pants, then holds onto the desk while Azriel slides them off along with her underwear. She pushes herself forward, all the way to the edge of the desk.

He runs a hand up her shin as he presses a kiss to the inside of her knee. Her toes curl. Gwyn stares at his wings, wondering if there's a way she can run her fingers along them without potentially leaning too far forward and falling onto Azriel.

(Not that he'd mind having her on top of him.)

But as he kisses up her thigh, it gets harder to form a coherent thought. She runs a hand through his hair, then digs her fingers in. When he gets to the very top of her thigh, just inches from her center, he sits back on his heels.

Gwyn starts to ask why he stopped, but when their eyes lock, the words die on her lips.

Azriel is looking at her, pupils blown wide, with an adoration that makes her chest ache. He doesn't say anything because he doesn't need to. It's the pause he always takes, checking with her, making sure everything is alright and he hasn't moved too quickly.

(The days she needs to stop and breathe until her heart stops hammering in her chest happen less now, but they still happen.)

Gwyn can feel the bond connecting them, so strongly now that she could almost reach out and touch the golden threads connecting them. Mates.

She releases her grip on his hair and moves her hand down to his cheek. He leans into the touch as she says, "I love you. Keep going please."

It's all the encouragement he needs. Azriel runs his tongue up her center with maddening slowness. Once, he'd challenged her not to ask for more when he did this over and over. She'd agreed on the condition he'd submit to the same test. They'd both succeeded.

(Gwyneth Berdara doesn't break, even under the sweetest torture. Neither does Azriel.)

His tongue darts in and out of her, and he takes his time, making lazy circles around her clit but never getting quite to the spot that will send her over the edge. She tugs at his hair just hard enough to hurt a little, the way he likes. When her breath starts coming in pants and she lets out a moan, he estimates it won't be much longer until she can't string a sentence together.

Sitting back on his heels again, he takes in the sight of her flushed red and gripping the edge of the desk so hard it turns her knuckles white. "What do you want next?" he says.

Gwyn might be close to being undone, but she's not so far gone that she can't get that mischievous glint in her eyes that he loves so much. "I didn't just clear this desk off for work reasons."

Azriel rises to his feet and steps between her legs, and Gwyn tips her head back to see his face. "You want me to bend you over it, don't you?" he says.

"Yes," Gwyn says, a little breathless.

She expects him to lift her off the desk and turn her around, but he doesn't. Azriel leans down to kiss her, to make sure she can taste herself on his mouth before he's inside her. She pushes her tongue against his lips and he parts his immediately for her. When she runs her tongue along the roof of his mouth, she's rewarded with a desperate-sounding noise from him, too. He's finally close enough that she can draw slow circles on his wing with one fingertip, and he sighs her name against her lips.

He's forced to step back and says, "Don't end this so fast that I can't give what you asked for." Gwyn just smiles and hops to the floor.

(She always gets what she asks Azriel for.)

She's unbuttoning his pants before he can do it himself, so Azriel dips his hands under her shirt, running them up her chest and grazing her nipples with his thumbs. Her fingers pause on the fastenings for just a half-second.

"Is this really all it takes to distract you?" Azriel says.

"If you want to distract me, you'll have to do better," Gwyn says, then pushes his pants down.

Azriel laughs and pulls her shirt over her head, then gets rid of his own and strips the rest of his underthings off. Gwyn kisses him again, pressing her body to his and delighting at the feeling of him against her without any layers between them. The hard length of him presses against her abdomen.

Gwyn could probably spend the rest of her life kissing Azriel, but it would mean not getting what she asked for. She pulls away and turns around without a word, bending over in a silent invitation.

Azriel runs his hands up the backs of her thighs and squeezes her ass. Since she started training, Gwyn's legs have become more visibly muscular. Gwyn has always been strong, but now she looks it. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight, then presses a kiss to the base of her spine.

"Azriel…" Gwyn says, the impatience obvious in her voice.

But there's no rush, so he runs a hand along her center, feeling the wetness there and enjoying the sight of her back arching a bit. He dips a finger inside her, and she pushes her hips back, impaling herself more deeply. His finger curls, and she moans again.

The sound of it is too much, and he slides into her, resting his hands on her hips. He thrusts into her with the same excruciating slowness he used with his tongue, and she drives her hips back again, greedy and impatient.

They find their rhythm like they always do, moving in time instinctively, coordinating without even needing to speak. Azriel's grip on her hips tightens as the tempo increases and the world narrows to just the place where their bodies are joined.

Gwyn moans his name as she finds her release, and the sound of it and the feeling of her clenching around him is enough to send him over the edge just after.

He pulls out of her, and Gwyn straightens up and turns around with astonishing speed.

(All that training has her moving like lightning now.)

She gives him a contented smile, then grabs his face in both hands and kisses him again, soft this time. "This almost makes up for you missing dinner. Almost," she says.

The challenge in her voice makes him smile back. The tenacity is just so Gwyn that he kisses her again because there aren't words for what it does to him. When he pulls away, he says, "Would a second round change that?"

"If you can repeat your performance and keep this desk clear so we can do this more often, we'll call it even, shadowsinger."

Something tells him that with her organizational system, it won't be a challenge at all to keep the paperwork filed away. It will be harder not to let his work consume him, but when it gets tough, his mate will be there, just like he would for her.

(Gwyn and Azriel don't let each other fail.)

#acotar #gwynriel #azriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel x gwyn #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #my fic

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undead-merman · 1 year

Note

Your male lactation posting gave me ideas

Love interest with male cow PC good-natured but rather dull-minded and lazy due to their cow transformation they just want to lounge around and eat grass but they have to work to pay off Robin's debt and Robin and Sydney keep dragging them to class despite Cow PC mooing at them to stop and giving them pleading looks maybe trying to seduce them to make them stop (Robin and Syd barely manage to stay focused and get PC to class), always lounging around naked clothes just don't feel natural after spending so long naked with Remy, Robin is so flustered to find cow PC just lazing about in his room waiting for him giant cock hanging out using his console, and Alex barely manages to restrain himself from fucking PC when they catch them face down fat ass up eating grass moving in delight at how good it is.

PC’s large and muscular from physical work on Alex’s farm before getting kidnapped and turned into a cow and then running around on Remy’s farm has wonderfully grabbable pecs big meaty and full of milk their nips constantly leaking with milk maybe they put little bandaids on to make sure their clothes don't get dirty but they can't help but tweak at their nips because they feel so full of milk, and they look so cute and dopey without a care in the world the only thing on their mind is grass, and when they're gonna milk themselves their balls heavy with cream already groping themselves softly a light moo escaping their lips almost a moan

Robin found you in the park munching on the grass when he was looking for you just before school. He had made it a habit, and he was glad he did. Your bare ass and… humongous cock out in the open for anyone who was around to see. Thank goodness he was the only one around.

He ran up and threw his jacket over you gaping as he asked you what happened! But he quieted down when he saw the horns and tail, as well as the confused face. He hated the look in your eyes. Like he was some kind of stranger. It made him ill just thinking about it. He had to downright herd you back home and you refused to stay in your old room. He had to keep you in his own. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The fact that you wouldn’t stay put in your own room, that you would only sit just to sniff robin’s clothes.

Weeks passed and you didn’t talk, he had to teach you again. And because of that, he couldn’t have you go to school. He would run to school and run back to make sure you weren’t getting into trouble. Luckily you didn’t do much besides eating grass and sleep, though he was thrilled you were getting back into video games. When you sniffed the controller and picked it up and started playing it, he nearly cried.

Today was the same, running back and throwing open his door to see you with your cock out and playing. Robin was sure he was used to it, but he couldn’t help but flushed and nearly drool over those pecs and the pretty color of your cock. The head is so… delicious looking. But he tries to shake those thoughts out of his head. You were sick! He couldn’t think like this! He couldn’t think about holding those horns and slowly pushing his cock between those manly lips or huge pecs.

But it was too late. He was already hard in his school trousers. He wanted to slip out, but you already perked up with that adorable smile. Calling him his name with that deep voice that could send shivers down his spine.

He tried to convince you to try going out today, he got a new sweater for you to wear. A big one so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable to wear. But you mooed in protest. His heart sank, he was hoping today was the day, and money was getting tight. You told him about a secret fund you had hidden away that had been enough to pay for a month, but that’s it. There’s no more money in that spot and he hasn’t scrapped up enough to pay. He didn’t want to lose you again!! So he tried pulling you up from the pile of clothes but with your strength, you were easily able to crawl back down and let out another pathetic moo.

Still trying, you noticed a tent in his pants. so, knowing from your days on the farm that if you just let them use you they’d leave you alone. So your long flat tongue licked over his crotch and his whole body jolted and shivered. His hands caught your horns so he didn’t fall. His knees buckled and he couldn’t even fight back as you did it over and over again. Your teeth find his zipper and pull his virgin cock out. Something like memories drifted through your head of grinding your cock against his freckled dick but you shook them off. You pushed him down and he was frozen as you ground your massive cock against his, dwarfing it.

Each slow thrust of your hips got you hard and Robin squirming. Precum leaked out of his tip more and more making it easier to glide your cock against his. And he’s bucking into you, it is hesitant at first but he starts getting into a rhythm. You smiled happily, knowing it worked, and pulled away to lay back down on the pile of clothes with outstretched hands inviting him back in.

Robin, of course, couldn’t say no. He rolled on top of you and ground into your big body. His face was steaming hot and his dick was rutting into you and even getting you into a heated pace. Your balls felt so full lately and your hand just wasn’t doing it anymore. Not to mention your nipples leaking with each thrust. In a lust-drunk gaze, Robin looked at those pretty numbs and squeezed your chest making milk squeeze out. A long moan fell out of your mouth as he massaged your chest and firm muscle.

You couldn’t help but writhe, those small and scrawny fingers pinching your engorged buds and squeezing out the milk that flowed down your chest as if they were towels soaked with water. He was astonished at how much came out. But you smiled proudly and your tail flopped on the pile, you were the best bull after all. You bucked up into his hips and that only snapped him back to the reality that his cock was grinding on your fat rod.

It took a bit longer than you'd like, the machines at the farm were so efficient. It felt like Robin was edging you and it wasn't fair! You need to cum. Empty yourself of milk. Robin watched as your tail slapped the ground in frustration. He was shocked when you grabbed his waist and fucked into him. He yelped and grabbed your chest harder causing much more to leak out due to the rough treatment.

Robin held on for dear life as you both frotted your dicks together. All he could focus on was the noises and pleasure he was trying to ride up and over to climax. And with a few sloppy thrusts, you both were able to.

He spilled himself in the deep v of your hips while you exploded on his stomach enough for it to hit his chin and drip off in excess. It was so much. Robin marveled at how you made enough of a mess to fill a whole jug of milk. It was all over him and all over the floor.

But the way you blissfully smiled and mooed at him made his heart clench, but not in a good way. Were you really beyond help? Had you truly forgotten what you had been in favor of being a cow?

He let out a defeated sigh. You were still his friend, he couldn’t just give up, even if it felt hopeless. He just hoped that Bailey wouldn't find you like this after he wasn't able to pay this week's rent.

He won't lose you again.

---

Sydney was awestruck when he saw you sitting naked eating the roses off a bush you had ripped out of the ground. It was you! You!

He was so caught up in the fact that he missed your face and presence that he didn't even notice your new ears and horns let alone your tail. And his excitement died on his tongue as he slowly realized what happened.

You hardly understood a word out of his mouth and while you still seemed to recognize him, it deeply traumatized him to see you as a shell of what you were as well as the brandings on your skin. He sobbed on your shoulder and he found it hopeful that you still tried to comfort him, pressing your nose under his chin and cupping it to look at him.

Sadly he couldn’t keep you at his home, so he had to rely on Robin. He was relieved when he decided to help try to take care of you. He would help bring food for you since you had a sudden distaste for anything besides grain and apples, and you had tried to eat the brown rotten grass there at the orphanage. Sydney would come in the morning before school to help feed you.

Sydney had to get you a new uniform since the last one didn’t even come close to fitting anymore, the buttons had all popped off embarrassingly around the chest and the trousers had ripped at the thighs and bottom. And even when they got you one that fit you still tried to tug it off. It was a full day's battle to get you to stay in it.

But it was worse when they tried to get you to school. You just lounged in the library. While Sydney would have normally loved this, it was rough seeing you like this. Sure you picked him up when he needed to grab a book, and you even were able to carry just as much as a book cart. But it just wasn’t you.

He had tried to get you to go to class but it was a disaster. River had tugged at your ears and horns and you head-butted them into the chalkboard. Winter got upset that you just cocked your head at them every time they asked you a question. Even his father was bewildered. It ended up in a lot of questions that deep down he knew if he answered honestly would get you taken away again. So he lied.

And now you were here. Sydney let out a sigh, a hopeless and crestfallen sigh as he pushed up the glasses you had bought him.

The sound of a soft moo drew his eyes over to where you were sitting behind him. Hand on your scratch palming your hard dick. Sydney panicked trying to pull your arm away and looking around the empty library. “Hey, come on please don’t do that.”

But you just keep going. Pulling out your own cock without a care in the world. Sydney’s gaze darts around just taking a second look just to make sure everyone has left for the day. Your cock is so flushed and it looks painful, not to mention when you tug up our shirt so are your nipples. You shamelessly start masturbating right in front of him and he slaps a hand to his eyes.

You're sick, he gets that, with these new features of yours, you’ve picked up the traits of a cattle as well… and he supposes that means you need to find relief. Robin told him about the lactation. How some of our shirts were covered in milk and just the lightest stimulation to them got you worked up. Did you need to be milked? He had read about dairy cows, but did it apply to this?

He didn’t even realize he was swallowing a hard lump in his throat as he watched your large hand pump your cock. It was so big… and it was leaking so much. You mooed in discomfort and he did his best to calm his itching hand, idle hands are the devil's workshop.

But he can’t stop himself and his hands brush against the tip, his fingertips smearing with pre cum. It’s so warm. His hands move deeper down your shaft and you move your hand away just like you were trained to do.

It was an awkward pace, you were used to the farm hands being much more efficient but happy that someone was finally helping, Sydney was just fascinated by it all and just wanted to see more. He started slowly rubbing, following the same patterns he enjoyed when touching himself, and he was happy to see you mooing happily.

His movement gets more confident and you are just happy to buck into his hand. And his mouth slowly presses against those pretty but irritated nipples. You mooed loudly and his mouth was filled with creamy milk as it was shot into his mouth. He had to cough it up and you bit your lip and watched him hack up a lung, even offering a comforting lick to his lips. But Sydney wasn’t shaken. He wiped his mouth with his wrist and went right back in. his soft hands stroking up and down and even playing with your wide head as he started to drink down your milk.

It was much creamer and distressingly more refreshing. It was dangerously addicting, all of this. So he continued drinking as much as he could, big mouthfuls as you bucked into his hand and he stroked you faster while looking at your pleasure-filled face. He loved the way your lip quivered and it wanted him to do more, mess you up until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

And when you came it burst over his hands and chin, even when he backed off you still spurted more and more, just strands of ‘cream’ landing on the both of you. Even your pecs were twitching and gushing out and making such a mess. By the time your powerful orgasm dies down and you are left a panting mess so drained you can’t even move your tail, something in Sydney's brain just shifts so naturally, like tectonic plates. He’d love to do more. Seeing the big and built you trembling under his hands, it's such a dangerous want.

---

When you came back to the farm during a rainy night and he came into the barn and found you sitting on some straw, he burst into tears. Alex thought he’d lost his partner forever. He was crushed to find out what happened to you and noticed very quickly you were just like the other cows on the farm. And every night he’d help milk you. It was difficult to handle you like livestock, but he was willing to stick by you no matter what.

Still, it seemed like you were taking to your old life again. He’d roll you out of bed despite your protests, you didn’t work, you didn’t eat. So you’d stand behind him and help when he asked and you'd get to work.

You had bulked up a lot, massive really to the point you were now bigger than him. And you easily did the heavy lifting around the farm. You could even pick up a squealing pig and wrangle an armful of chickens. Work got done so much faster and with much more ease and there were moments he was shocked to finish the work early and was laying down under his lucky tree. His eyes watch the setting sun when he catches you naked once again, but this time you are on your knees eating at the grass. He wanted to look away but something today stopped him. He always fancied you. But now getting to see that perfectly plumped rear with your hole right on display, not to mention that delicious set of heavy balls. They could outright fill his palms, each one as large as plump as juicy apples, maybe even oranges. His mouth is watering just thinking about it and soon enough he's hard, imagining sucking on them before sinking his cock right into that pretty little hole. It’s a bit puffy so he knows you’ve been fucked often, but he’s not sure if that was before or after Remy’s farm. But he doesn’t want to think about that now. He wants to think about fingering your hole and listening to you moo.

But today he was feeling lucky, brave even. So he stood up, moved over to where you were nibbling, and stroked your back. He loved when you leaned into his touches, but he slowly moved his hand down to your hips, cupping the meat of your tush. He just stood there just feeling your warmth between his fingers. But soon his fingers rubbed down your crack and against your hole, careful of your tail. He takes it slow, making sure to slip his finger right over your rim. Waiting for you to buck your hips into his rough finger.

He smiles when one quick jolt of your hips sends his finger inside your soft velvety ass. He rocks his finger inside in time with your hips, holding your tail to keep you steady. He finds your movement adorable and the more you go the harder he gets until he has four fingers inside you and his cock is straining painfully in his overalls. He grins at how desperate your hips move trying to get even more stuffed into you and he decides to treat you. Pulling down his work overalls and patting your hole with the head of his dick. Spitting down onto your hole and enjoying the squelch that his head makes against your hole.

With a solid yet slow thrust he’s buried deep into your insides and he loves how your tail squirms in his grasp. He takes a hurried pace, his hips snapping against your ass as he holds your tail out of the way. He fits so perfectly and you are so damn warm and snug he couldn’t go slow. His tight grip on your tail slowly stroked from the base to the tip and he loved how your guts tighten up.

He kept going, chasing his own pleasure as he toyed around your beefy body. Fingers down your spine. Yanking your hair, and even pulling your horns so he could reach deeper inside you to bully your prostate. When he finally came he made sure to yank you back so he fills you up completely. And how much had you cum? With how much you spilled it looks like a gallon on the ground. Twitch after twitch you empty your balls onto the ground and Alex can only think ‘what a waste’. Still, maybe if you wanted he could milk you too? Only if you wanted though… You seemed happy as a cow. Though he still missed the old you. You were fine the way you were.

#tw: mind break #dol #degrees of lewdity #robin the orphan #robin dol #sydney the fallen #sydney dol #alex the farmhand #alex dol

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