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pianokantzart · 6 months

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All That Remains

One-shot based on @elitadream's Body Swap AU. It's set in the aftermath of Mario's eventual rescue, (it also comes with a few drawings because I was in a mood.) Please note that the Bowser I drew is, for the sake of consistency, based on elitadream's (fcking awesome) Bowser design, and is not my own take.

If you like this AU/concept, please check out the masterpost! There is soooo much good stuff on there.

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Inexperience and desperation fueled an inferno that turned the bright green fields on the outskirts of The Mushroom Kingdom as black as the heart of The Darklands. Kamek clung to his broom high above the mayhem, and through the smoke and roaring flames he caught glimpses of the two warring bodies, each utterly detached from their senses, unaware of either fatigue or pain as they grappled for dominance in a struggle far more explosive than anything he had witnessed before. Mario alone– equipped with Bowser’s body– seemed to have some sort of a goal beyond delivering as much damage as possible. As clumsy as he was with his giant claws and heavy form, he remained keenly aware of where Luigi and Princess Peach were, and always made sure he was positioned to shield them from the worst of the heat.

Though Luigi and Peach struggled to assist in whatever way they could, the raging inferno that encompassed the fight made even comprehending what was happening around them near impossible, and even Kamek, accustomed to the fire whirl and magma pits of home, felt overwhelmed. Yet, out of fear for his king, he ventured closer, weaving about the spires of flames upon his broomstick to get a better look.

Though Mario and Bowser alike were to blame for the surrounding destruction, he was surprised to find a majority of the fire was radiating from the body of the plumber. Bowser had wielded firebrand with reckless abandon, clearly unaware of such magic’s limitations, barely even noticing the redness and blisters forming upon his skin wherever patches of his gloves and sleeves had been burned away. Mario’s body was more resistant to heat than that of the average human, but it– unlike Bowser's original body– was not immune. Kamek’s concern grew into a subdued panic when, at length, the fire began to lose intensity. Bowser strained to refuel the inferno, staring with unfocused confusion at his all-too-human hands as he struggled to make sparks when he once constructed torrents of white hot flames. He didn’t know what was happening, but Kamek could tell that the abused body was finally failing him. As the heat died down, Luigi and Peach slowly made their approach, careful to avoid the patches of earth that boiled red-hot from the encounter. Seeing where the chips fell, Kamek knew what needed to be done. Thankfully, the spell that had switched Bowser and Mario’s bodies– though difficult to conduct– was childsplay to undo. With the wave of his wand and a whispered charm, both souls were returned to their original form. Luigi and Peach witnessed the flash of light, and the great change in both Mario’s and The Koopa King’s expression.

Immediately, Bowser felt it: the weight of being and the connection to his old flesh. Like waking from a heavy sleep he noted the tiredness in his arms and the ache in his chest, as well as the pain of the bruises and the burns he himself had inflicted in his scuffle with a borrowed body. His newfound sense of weakness triggered a rage. A low, familiar growl rumbled throughout his draconic form as he turned toward the magikoopa hovering nearby.

“Kamek!” he roared, “I did not order you to return me to my body!” Kamek’s broom came to a landing at Bowser’s side– now the true Bowser, through and through. Kamek had expected his lord to be displeased, and yet he couldn’t help flinching, clutching his wand to his chest at the severity of the voice. “I’m sorry sire, but I had no choice! Your old vessel, it… it could not carry on!” “What!?” Bowser blew a puff of smoke and looked to where Mario stood, although “stood” may have been too strong a term. The little plumber– himself, slowly growing aware of his own body– wobbled unsteadily in place. Outside of the injuries he’d undergone in the fight there were other markings; his cheeks sallow and his eyes sunken, his breath labored and his lips cracked and chapped. His knees began to buckle, and the princess and Luigi rushed together to catch him before he hit the ground. Bowser smirked, taking no small amount of satisfaction in the fear that flashed through Mario’s eyes as he steadily crumbled into the arms of his companions.

“See? Your efforts weren’t for naught.” Kamek continued cheerfully, “your hated enemy is defeated, worn thin through ‘his’ decimation of The Mushroom Kingdom’s defenses. We merely need to press forward with the invasion, and victory shall be yours!...”

Kamek was about to continue, when he was interrupted by a violent flash of blue light and the crack of thunder. Luigi had left his brother in the arms of the princess and leapt in front of them, electricity shooting from an outstretched hand, across the charred plane, into the body of the magician.

Kamek, blindsided, received the attack with full-force. He jittered and contorted, unable to emit so much as a shriek as electricity ricocheted through his elderly body, until at length he fell to the ground limp as a ragdoll.

All eyes shifted to Luigi.

Anyone who had fought with The Mario Brothers, whether as their ally or opponent, knew firebrand had horizontal range and thunderhand had vertical range. Both were capable of incredible destructive power in close quarters, and when Mario and Luigi worked as a team, few had the opportunity to get near enough to feel the full force of their magic. By all accounts, Kamek should have been out of range. Even Luigi appeared utterly bewildered by what he just accomplished, breathing heavily as he looked at his own hands, shivering from adrenaline and sparking uncontrollably.

Bowser, equally confused, bent down at Kamek’s side, and examined him in a moment of what appeared to be genuine concern. With the enemy distracted, Luigi took a step back toward Princess Peach to deliver the harried bullet points of his plan. “You need to get him to The Mushroom Kingdom before the invasion. Get Mario help. Get everyone ready. I’ll keep him busy.” “Luigi!” The princess’ voice was pleading as she gathered Mario into her arms. Truthfully, she knew Luigi’s idea wasn't a bad one. Bowser’s body, despite being in better condition than Mario’s, had not emerged from the battle unscathed. Given the current circumstances, Luigi stood a chance of holding his own, and The Mushroom Kingdom desperately needed time to ready its defenses before Koopa Troops showed up in droves to carry out Bowser’s planned attack. Nonetheless, Peach detested the thought of abandoning him. He had suffered too much on his own already. Furthermore, he and Mario had just been reunited, and she preferred any other possible avenue over splitting them apart again.

Luigi glanced over his shoulder, and forced a reassuring smile that didn't quite fit his words: “I’m sorry! I was so scared I- I didn’t do anything right! I should’ve done more… protected everyone sooner." His voice cracked, those old familiar tears forming in the corner of his eyes. "Please, let me do things right this time.”

Mario, through his fight to maintain consciousness, heard every word, and hated them with every fiber of his being. He attempted to speak, to reach out for his brother, to do anything to console him… but his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth and his arms hung limply at his sides. All he could manage was a barely-audible murmur. Luigi had no right to feel this way. He wasn’t the one who had fallen for Bowser’s trap, who had allowed himself to be chained up in the underbelly of the world, who had given over to despair. Luigi, through no fault of his own, had been suddenly abandoned to the whims of a monster, and yet he had escaped and traveled all the way to The Darklands to save him. How could he feel guilt for this? How could he feel anything but proud of himself?

“Luigi…” Peach whispered, but before she could say anything more, there came a thudding of heavy steps. A giant clawed hand cast a shadow over them as Bowser, who realized by now that Kamek wouldn’t be roused any time soon, rushed forward to finish the fight. Luigi leapt over the attack on instinct while The Princess rolled out of the way, holding Mario close to her chest as Bowser’s heavy hand shattered the earth inches from her back. The King of The Koopas turned to Peach, poised to bring down another blow, when Luigi landed upon the back of his neck. One hand clung to his horn, while the other slammed down against the thick, scaly skin of his neck to deliver another pulse of electricity. This time, Bowser felt it, and the sound of his pained roar fueled Luigi’s determination. “Go your highness!” He shouted, struggling to maintain his grip as Bowser fought to shake him off, “I won’t be far behind!” Princess Peach hurried to her feet, hesitating for only a moment longer as she tightened her hold on Mario's body. She felt him grow limp, heard his labored breath slow, and felt the decision had all but been made for her. With a heavy heart she turned and ran toward The Mushroom Kingdom, pouring whatever magic she left into Mario's unconscious form. The burns could be fixed easily, but the effects of starvation, dehydration, and sleep deprivation were not so easily undone. Slow damage required slow remedies, and the worst of his condition had been over a week in the making.

She didn’t dare look back, keeping her eyes focused on the twinkle of the castle’s familiar stained glass window in the distance, shining like a beacon above clouds of ash and smoke as the world behind her echoed with the sound of monstrous roars and crackling thunder.

#my art #my writing #Body Swap AU #injury tw #Super Mario Brothers #Luigi #Princess Peach #given Bowser isn't used to firebrand and Mario isn't used to fire breath #I imagine both of them fighting with all their might while disconnected from their bodies would be insanely explosive #Also... I've only written a little bit of what I imagine Bowser put Luigi through while in Mario's body #so I think the green guy deserves a bit of retribution

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kacievvbbbb · 4 months

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I feel like people compare nobara to shoko in the trio because it’s easy because they are both women and are generally left out to focus on a duo (it’s just that for the gojo trio it’s gege himself that removes shoko in favor of a duo while for the current first years he’s pretty good at showing them as a trio fandom just loves to cut about nobara in favor of itafushi) but like other than that and a similar haircut they are nothing alike. They don’t have the same temperament, disposition or even the same kind of morality views. They are literally just both the only girls in the group. It’s not that big a deal because honestly the story isn’t written like one piece or naruto where the comparisons are built into the story and are so obvious. But it’s to the point that I’ve seen fics make nobara the more “medical” of the three just to draw a line between the two of them when Nobara’s characterization in canon makes it so very hard to believe that’d she’d carry around bandages for the boys or help them dress their wounds when her personality falls more in line with “I’d rather let them bleed out that get blood stains on my loafers, they are new’”

It’s just annoying because it’s soooo obvious that the person Nobara is most like from the OG trio is Gojo. Amongst the first years she’s the most similar to Gojo in everything expect societal importance and power scaling. Especially young gojo please that could have been her twin, they’d hate each other. They have the same superiority complex, the same attitude towards saving people, the same goofy outward nature that conceals a more deeply apathetic world view (not to say that shoko isn’t apathetic I’d say she is but it’s in a more blasé I couldn’t give less of a fuck kind of way and not the this is all beneath me apathy that gojo and Nobara have), the same lack of any real care for “the weak” that gojo is eventually forced to grow out of but I don’t think Nobara ever will. They even share similar ideas of what it means to be a jujutsu sorcerer. And they are both insane in the same exact way.

Like you can’t tell me that Gojo awakening didn’t scream crazy the same way Nobara’s game of poisonous chicken with a cursed womb did. It’s just the level of power is drastically different.

Come on look at them they are the same person with different levels of power.

Again there is nothing wrong with Shoko I’m just tired of seeing them paired up because of some arbitrary trio comparison. And not to say Shoko and Nobara can’t relate like I’m sure Shoko can sympathize with the feelings of being left behind by your closest friends. Even though with shoko it’s more an emotional leaving behind while with Nobara it’s more about them growing stronger faster than her.

I love Nobara and I like shoko just fine but I am so sick and tired of actual nuance being placed into who the boys are similar too while the girls are just a cursory version oh they are both the girls of the group. Like come on

#thank you for coming to my Tedtalk #this was supposed to be a little paragraph turned into a whole essay #venting #ranting #young gojo and nobara would be at each others throats #it’d also be a minefield for anybody they just happened to be with because the strays gonna be crazy #throwing thoughts to the void #nobara kugaski #jjk nobara #jjk itadori #jjk gojo #jjk shoko #jujusu kaisen #jjk megumi #jjk geto

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chris-bun · 2 months

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#Winterfieldweek2024

🎉 Day 4 “slow dancing” 🎉

Today I wanted to write something, soooo… :)

(English is not my first language, so sorry for some mistakes!)

……

- this is so stupid. — Winters can’t help but grin when he looks at how seriously Christopher extends his hand to him, inviting him to a slow dance.

It happened so unexpectedly, so spontaneously, that Ethan stands there with that stupid smile, not knowing what to say or what to do.

Walking along the evening streets of Los Angeles, the men did not expect to see a live performance of some little-known group, which thereby wanted to attract people's attention with their songs. Well, it was a very good move, because even Chris and Ethan became interested. With every minute the songs became calmer, forcing the couples to merge in a slow dance. So Redfield himself decided not to stand aside.

— You know that the last time I did something like that, it was God knows when. - Christopher said quietly, smiling slightly at his beloved when he gently took his hand in response.

— Exactly. So I want to capture as much of this moment as possible. - Ethan grinned, placing his free hand on the captain's shoulder.

The cold November wind blew across the lovers, forcing them to press closer to each other. "Alpha" wrapped his free hand around Winters' waist, warming him with his body. At this moment, they didn't care much. Only Redfield's thoughts were occupied with memories of how to properly hold a partner and in which direction to move his legs.

The captain vaguely remembered his graduation. It was dark, cramped, and it smelled like cheap alcohol from the teenagers standing nearby. Not like he saw in the teen movies his little sister often liked to watch. His dance partner was some girl a year younger who managed to sneak into prom to get an idea of what it will be like a year later. The awkwardness between them could be seen with the naked eye, as well as a complete lack of understanding of how to dance. Their practice dances with Claire were radically different from the normal understanding. They didn’t have any parents to ask for the practise lessons, and his friends from school didn’t know much about it themselves. So he had to get out of it with his younger sister, dances with whom ALWAYS ended in some kind of tomfoolery.

Returning to graduation, she is a member of the drawing club, he is a basketball player on the school team. His first full-fledged slow dance was more like a fast walk in a circle, so the girl, out of shame, left this event at the same moment, leaving Chris alone with his thoughts. After graduation, he somehow had no time for it. At least that's how it was before he met Ethan.

With Winters, he couldn't predict what would happen in five minutes. His actions, behavior and character were so harsh that Redfield was simply lost, looking dumbfounded as the engineer tried to prove to the store clerk that the cheese had a false expiration date because of its smell. With him, the captain became comfortable visiting bars, which he tried not to approach at all. He had so many memories of their trips to this place that he could write his own book. It couldn't have happened without dancing either.

He remembered it, like it was yesterday. It was January in 2016.

Another trip to the bar. Now Ethan has gone too far with alcohol again and because of this, Chris cannot have a peaceful evening. A couple of awkward conversations, touches, glances, and without Redfield noticing, he was standing next to him on the dance floor, intoxicated by his playful smile. And captain simply could not refuse. Ethan danced as if he would be gone tomorrow. He enjoyed every moment of life until the memories of Louisiana took over. Therefore, “Alpha” tried to do everything to make him happy... And at the moment he needed come up with something quickly, because when Winters put his palms on Christopher’s neck, pressing closer to him, the man was noticeably dumbfounded, not only not understanding what to do, but also where to put his hands. And Ethan immediately understood everything. This evening there was a lot of laughter, awkward touching, loving looks, and by the night Redfield's skills were noticeably better than they were 25 years ago.

The palm slowly moved to the lover’s cheek, smoothly stroking the cheekbones and calming the thoughtful mind.

— Here you go! You're moving better than you were at Claire's birthday. - Ethan chuckled, pecking Chris on the lips. - relax! You look too thoughtful. — Winters carefully poked the pad of his finger into the wrinkle on his lover’s forehead, which became more noticeable when he plunged deep into himself.

The captain looked up at the engineer, instantly relaxing and smiling tenderly at him. He exhaled heavily, throwing unnecessary thoughts aside, and simply continued to move the way he himself would like. Living in an environment where it was always necessary to carry out orders, to do as he was told, it was difficult for Chris to live the way Winters would have wanted. Rather impossible. But with Ethan, a lot has changed. Redfield would never have thought that he would slow dance with someone like this, wrapping him in his own jacket so that it would not be so cold.

Time passed too quickly. The music died down, the musicians put away their instruments, and people dispersed. Ethan pulled away slightly from Chris, looking around while the “Alpha” himself kept his eyes on him, smiling slightly.

- let’s go home? - the engineer asked calmly, smiling at his beloved, and wrapped himself tighter in Chris’s jacket, thinking about what kind of movie they could watch when they arrived at their home. Redfield grabbed Winters's palm, slightly squeezing it in his own, and walked with him towards the desired house, feeling that this would not be their last dance.

#resident evil #ethan winters #resident evil village #chris redfield #winterfield #Winterfieldweek2024 #winterfield week

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rosecoloreddesire · 2 years

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Sugar Daddy Blues, 3

Summary: You’ve been told to stay away from strangers before but…this one sounded like a dream come true. Sending you money for school, clothes, and pictures. You were living on cloud nine and somehow Elvis Presley was gonna take you all the way there.

Warnings: Daddy Kink, Older!Elvis, Younger!Reader (by 10 years), Innocence Kink, P in V (wrap it up y’all!).

Note: Thanks y’all for all the love on SDB! If you guys have any ideason how to further this series pls let me know! I was also writing a separate story and hope that I didn’t put the name in this lol. My DMs and requests are open! My finals for college start sometime this week! Love y’all!

“Soooo, what happened when you left me at the entrance, Y/N?” Your skin flushed and you all but spit your drink out at the bar.

“Emily! I didn’t do nothin’! Jerry just asked me if I saw a girl's missin' purse! That’s it!” You fold your arms and a pout decorates your lips. She scoffs as she raised the tickets in her hands.

“Well, jokes on you! We’re going again tonight! They’ve got more songs to film!” Your heart skipped a beat as she placed the ticket in your palm. You hadn’t talked to Elvis since that night out of pure humiliation.

“Really?! Now, we’ve gotta go find some new clothes to wear!” You push your empty glass toward the bartender and he nods. How the hell were you gonna face the King of Rock N Roll?! You just sucked him off and went away! How was he gonna react to that? Why did you have to say it like that?

“Well, I’m a good friend and wanted your suga’ daddy to go absolutely wild! This is just the bee's knees, Y/N!” Your best friend draws a leather dress out of a shopping bag and squeals. Your jaw all but dropped as you took the coarse fabric into your shaky hands.

“I am not wearin’ this, Em! You have lost your goddamn mind! I’d much rather ask them to dress me!” Your cheeks burned at the thought of how Elvis would react to you trying to match his all-leather get-up. Your mind ran rampant as you thought of him bending you over and proving then and there that you were his and his only. You shook your head as Emily giggled.

“C’mon! At least let me help you model it for a few pics! My aunt designed this dress and she said she needed it for a model!” You sighed but heavily agreed. You begrudgingly walk into the bathroom and pull the leather trap on. You huff as it hugs at your curves and you smile at yourself in the mirror. You look good….no! No, you can’t wear it to his special. Lord knows what he’d do or that damn manager would do!

“A lot tighter than expected but I got it on.” Emily clapped as she brought out her Polaroid camera. You pose the best you can while people in the bar are staring at you. You’re aware of the eyes but they don’t put you off but spur you on to keep posing.

“These are perfect! Now you don’t have to wear it tonight we can change real quick and call for a taxi to get there in time!” Emily grabs your arm and pulls you back into the bathroom. As you both change she helps you with her makeup. You feel an unnerving guilt bubble in your chest as Emily pats down your eyeshadow.

“I almost slept with Elvis Presley.” You freeze as Em drops the eye shadow brush in her hand. She scrambles to push her makeup away. Her hands grasp yours harshly.

“ALMOST?! Why didn’t you?! The Elvis Presley wants you,” you wince as you see the cogs turning in her head,” HE’S THAT GUY! Your suga’ daddy is Elvis?!” You shush her and place your finger on her lips. Her vision is ablaze with excitement.

“Could you scream any louder? Damn, Em! You know I’ve never done nothin’ with no one! How am I supposed to do that with Elvis?!” She continues your makeup and shakes her head. Your head swam in thoughts of every position you could think of Elvis putting you in. God, your daddy would kill you for these thoughts.

“Did you ever think of talking it out with your man? He knows you're younger than him so why wouldn’t he think you're a virgin? Maybe he’s into that?” She shrugs as she finishes your makeup and you sigh. You should’ve talked to him about it but you couldn’t get past your own pity. You brushed your clammy hands across your skirt and let your shoulders sag as she finished her hair.

“M-Maybe if I get the chance tonight I’ll talk with him. Though I doubt he’s gonna wanna talk to me after what happened.” Em took your hand and she placed a comforting hand across your cheek.

“You are burnin’ up, chick! We really gotta get him to notice you! And I know just how!” Before you can ask why she’s grinning so devilishly she pulls you along once more. You soon find yourself face to face with Jerry once again and he beams softly down at you. You nod and Emily tells you to hold her seat. You locate your seat and realize you are directly next to the stage…again. Great.

————————-

“Where were you,” it was more of an injunction than a question,”He just started so hopefully they don’t catch us on film…What-“ Your scolding is interrupted by a further entire set. He looks magnificent as he strides in a black satin shirt and red scarf.

“Wow, he looks hot, Y/N.” She nudged your side with her elbow as you can’t tear yourself away from his stature. The filming seems to go by fast with him changing multiple times. Lights behind him glow red in the dimly lit space in his name. Chills run down your spine as you acknowledge this wasn’t a Christmas song. He went against his manager again. Though instead of being worried for him…you wanted him to keep doing this kind of thing. It made him seem more…alive. More him. His voice was blaring and controlling in the resonant space. Extras and staff stared on in awe as his emotion grew and the room filled with a sense of perseverance. A gospel scene is next and you feel awful as you feel the searing desire fill your veins. And who are you kidding? A whorehouse? He knew what he was doing at that point!

The filming ends as soon as it starts and claps erupt in the studio as he stands in absolute disarray of emotions. His life was hanging in the balance of this but you could see how much he tended to the melody of this special. Individuals are being placed back by the stage as Elvis grins. He waves you over and your skin is alight with craving at the short action.

“Did ya like it, baby? I still feel like I’m shakin’.” He allowed you to wander aside from him to his dressing room. You peek around to make sure no one was tracking you both or just observing. Your eyes dart up to where Elvis was gaping earlier and make eye contact with Elvis’ manager. His eyes bore voids through you as Elvis clutches your hand.

“I-It was great, E. Um, are you still filming today or was this just a trick by Emily and your friend?” Elvis lowers your hand and chuckles.

“I do have a little filmin’ yet to do. Though mostly it was to trick you back into my life. I was worried you weren’t ever gonna talk to me, princess.” He began to unbutton his pants as you stood there frozen.

“I-I didn’t think you’d want me. I mean we met once! I just wanted to give you an out-“ His lips are fierce against yours as his hand sifted through your H/C hair. You sigh as he jerks his fingers scarcely. His desire spills into your mouth, your fingers grip the collar of his shirt severely.

“I want you so bad that it hurts, princess. I need you to want me just as badly. God, darlin’.” His gaze never leaves your lips as his statement dangles in the air. Your fingers shake as you help unbutton his shirt. What the hell were you doing? Your fingers curled around the red scarf wrapped around his throat.

“I want you, Elvis. Please, just- I’ll come to wherever your stayin’ after your filmin’ is done, alright?” Elvis’ face lights up and a brief kiss is laid upon your cheek.

“I’m gonna film this so quick, darlin’!”

“Don’t ruin your filmin’, Elvis!”

“C’mon!”

———————

“Soooo, bar time? Or suga’ daddy time, Y/N?” Emily fixes her pant leg as the two of you begin to walk out of the venue. Jerry is standing next to an expensive black car and waves at you fondly.

“Um, screw it! I’m gonna sleep with Elvis Presley.” You state confidently as Emily hoots and hollers.

“Well, you go have fun, chick! Call me and tell me everythin’!” You nod as you step into the car and thank Jerry. The ride is quiet but comfortable as you drive to Elvis. Jerry keeps small talk at a minimum as you feel your nerves rise within your body. Your skin feels hot as your body shakes.

“We’re here, Y/N.” Jerry helps you to the door of Elvis’ room and then excuses himself as he hears his friend’s footsteps beyond the door. Elvis is all smiles as he opens it. You follow him inside and he stops by a vanity in the corner. He takes a swig of whiskey and looks at you from the mirror.

“Look at you, princess. I think you should’ve come in this.” Your skin heated as he turned to you. He was wearing a robe once again but he had pajama pants on. Sadly. Stop it, Y/N. Polaroids fall out of his hands and scatter to the floor. You knew Emily was going to utilize those against you.

“My best friend told me her aunt needed a model. That’s all. How did you even get those?”

“Mm, I need one too. How about you model to me what you’ve got under that cute little piece you’ve got on.” He leans against the wall with a smirk as your eyes widened. You were going to kill Emily once this was over. How the hell did she even get those to Elvis?

“I-I’m not um. Wearin’ nothin' cute.”

“I think anythin' on your pretty body is cute, darlin’,” he walks towards you as you try to collect your thoughts. His large hands are warm as they gather at your waist. His skin burning through your clothes,” I want you so bad, lil' mama. Please, let me have you.” You nod as his body presses against you. Your conscience flying out the window.

“Fuck me, Elvis.”

“Who?”

“Please, daddy.”

“That’s my girl.” His hands are calloused and rough as they lay against your throat. Leading you to lie against the bed in his room. It’s adorned in silk sheets and velvety pillows. You smile up at him as your arms wrap around the nape of his neck.

“You bring these fancy things with you everywhere?” He laughs and places a chaste kiss on your lips. A playful smirk glistens on his face.

“Only when I know I’ve got a pretty lil’ thing in my sight. Now I need to have you, princess.” His lips are soft and wet as he ravages your neck. You grasp a tuft of his hair as you let out a loud cry. His teeth scrape at the sensitive spot on your neck, shivers of desire running down your spine.

“E-Elvis, I’ve never-“ he interrupts you as he slips your shirt off your body. You stutter as he bites his lip, taking you all in.

“I know, lil’ mama. I’ll be gentle. God, you look divine.” You nod and grab his shoulders holding him close.

“I-I got myself r-ready before seeing you, daddy.” Elvis’ eyes roll into the back of his head as a broken whine etches from his mouth. He lifts your skirt and rips your tights apart. His finger circled around your clit. Your thighs shake as his eyes blacken observing you plunge into lust within moments. His lips are urging against your throat, lapping at the newly made marks.

“God, with that mouth. I gotta have you right now, baby.” You nod as you writhe around the pillows. The sensation of his finger alone has you begging for him.

“Please, I need your cock, daddy. Please. I’ll be good.” His hand finds solace around your throat and he bites his lip. He finally strips down and runs his cock between your folds.

“You gotta be kiddin’! I really wanted to be nice, darlin’! Fuck-“ Elvis plunged inside of you and your breath hitched. Your heart races as you get used to being filled up all at once.

“Elvis-“

“Breathe baby. You’re doin’ so good. That’s my good girl.” His hands rest on your waist as he continues to push inside of you. Your nails take down his back and he hisses in pain. He pants as you squeeze him tighter. His cock throbs within you.

“I-I,” you take a deep breath as you try to get used to the feeling of being split open,” you’re too big, daddy.” Your legs shook against his waist as his hips bucked forward. His resolve was dissolving as your bare skin rubbed against his. Your innocence was fleeting as your stripped body drew him in.

“You’re gonna kill me, doll,” his lip tight between his teeth as he stares down at you,” Fuck, can I move, darlin’?” He huffs out a shaky soft moan as you try to adjust yourself to his size.

“Please, I wanna feel you.” A deep growl thunders deep in his chest as he desperately clutches at your waist.

“I gotta have you now, princess.” His eyes are dark and commanding as he thrusts forward harshly. Your back arches and he compels you back down onto the delicate sheets. Your skin is burning against his as he lays his body against yours. His hips are furious among yours as he pumps his cock in and out of you. Watching as your pussy swallows his whole cock, your name drips off his lips as he cries out.

“Fuck! Elvis, you feel so good,” you grasp at his back, your manicured nails raking down his back. Hissing, Elvis bites your shoulder as his pace picks up,” please, more, daddy-“ his voice is deep, layered in need as he howls into your collarbone. His intoxicating need is being smudged in purple across your chest. His eyes never leave your body as he commits every single curve and every dip. You were made to be his sugar baby. Made to be his everything.

“You are gorgeous, Y/N. You’re mine. My baby. My baby to spoil, right?” He accented his words with deep, harsh thrusts. You yelp as he flips the two of you over. Your body is on full display over the top of him now. His hands gripping your ass as you whine at the new angle of his cock. Your walls flutter around his cock as the desire in your core tightens.

“Yes, yours. All yours, daddy. Please, I wanna cum.” He nods as he slips his thumb to rub your clit. His eyes never leave your bouncing tits as you chase your neverending high on his dick. You roll your hips hungrily wanting to be marked as his as deep as possible. His thumb circled your desperate clit rapidly.

“Oh, baby. That’s it. My pretty little pussy. Such a good girl for daddy.” That’s it. Your body quivers with warmth and pleasure as you throw your head back. His hands wrap around your waist trying to keep you grounded. Your body convulsed as your orgasm seeps through you. A cry rips from your throat as he arranges his legs beneath you to pound into your dripping cunt. His legs shuddered underneath you as if he didn’t want this moment to end. His hand envelops your throat, you hold his arm as you try to anchor yourself. Another orgasm rips through you as quickly as it came. Your body shakes above his, grabbing you he brings you closer to his chest. Your bodies rubbing against each other.

“Please. Please. Cum inside me. I want it!” Continuous babbling falls from your lips as drool begins to pool on your skin. Elvis groans and his hips begin to stutter as his release begins. He’s grasping at your body like you’ll leave the minute he comes to. His teeth gnashing and gnawing on any expanse of your body that isn’t bruised and red. His hips continue to pump slowly in and out of you as his clarity slowly returns.

“That was not the way I planned our first time together, darlin’. God, you're still so wet. I’m sorry-“ you cut him off with a quick kiss on his nose.

“Well, you can show me for our second time together, Elvis.” You wink as you let his length slip out of you. He winces at the overstimulation and grabs a towel on the bedside table. He cleans you off softly, as he bites his lip. His seed poured out of you onto his sheets. You cover your face as he tickles you. Your giggles filling the space.

“Mm, I’m gonna stay your sugar daddy?”

“Have you found a reason not to spoil me?”

“I can’t say I have.”

“Then no! Thank you, Mister Presley.”

“Mm, Round 2?”

“I thought you’d never ask, Elvis.”

Sugar Daddy Blues Taglist: @austinbutlersgirlfriend @marriedtoeddie @el-velvis @kaitaesupremacy @eliseinmemphis @suspiciousmidge @godlypresley

#elvis presley #elvis smut #austin butler elvis #elvis fluff #elvis blurb #elvis x reader #elvis 2022 #elvis #elvis presley x reader #sugar daddy elvis #rosecoloreddesire #elvis presley fic

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pinheadbella · 2 months

Text

Total Drama Island: Hard Reboot (Update 2)

It’s been a while since I posted huh? Well I’ve been super busy with school and other irl stuff so I haven’t had the time to draw. BUT I have managed to do some drafting for the rewrite!

There has been a slight change in the elimination order! Just swapped two people is all. I talked to some friends about my original elimination order. We realized that one contestant could stay a little longer than another in order for an alliance’s arc to make more sense

I have decided that all canon ships in the reboot will be present here in some way, shape, or form. Will any of these relationships fall apart? Will any new ships be formed? You’ll have to read and find out

I have expanded the chapter/episode count! There will now be 15 chapters for TDI:HR. In-universe, there will still be 13 standard episodes. The two bonus episodes will make more sense when the story reaches that point

I still don’t have a release date for Episode 1. However, since I’ve been making you guys wait for a while, I think you deserve a sneak peek. And this will show just how I’ll be rewriting season 2 of the reboot without straying too far from what I actually liked about it…

…

“Chicks, am I right?” Chase laughs off Emma’s outburst, expecting Bowie of all people to have his back.

“You’re never right,” Bowie doesn’t even turn to look at the guy he’s roasting. He walks right to Emma. “Soooo, how long have you two been apart? Seems more permanent than usual.”

Emma opens her eyes to look at Bowie for a split second. One quick glare later and she picks up the pace.

“Wha-” Bowie is gagged.

CONFESSIONAL STATIC

“No,” Emma curtly shakes her head, “I’m not ignoring Bowie because I love Chase still. I’m ignoring him because I don’t want to be allies again. If he’s fine with splitting up Priya and Millie so he could make a quick million, then what does that say about our ‘friendship,’ huh??” She clenches her fists. Of course she’s still upset at Bowie. Even if she knows that Chase was a horrible partner, the way Bowie went about keeping them apart didn’t exactly make Emma feel good. But she calms down, opens her fists, and brushes a lock of hair back behind her ear. “I am NOT risking that. This season, I have to ally with someone I can actually trust.”

CONFESSIONAL STATIC

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sweetchcolate · 4 months

Note

I LOVE your posts about Sugar Apple Fairy Tale and just read your fanfic about Rafael visiting a pregnant Ann and loved it! I hope you write more fanfics on Sugar Apple Fairy Tale and can I request you write about Ann and Shall's wedding. IT WOULD FILL ME WISH SO MUCH JOY THAT YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE!

fandom: sugar apple fairy tale words: 5677 title: wedding prep shenanigans summary: A humorous glimpse into the weeks leading up to Anne and Shall’s wedding as their friends and guests show up one after the other.

also available on ao3!

A/N: Hiya, this ask is from late august/early september, so thank you for waiting all this time!

It's more on the funny/gen side since my last fic (spillover) was 100% pure fluff, but there was no way I could write about Anne and Shall's wedding without involving all the friends the two made over their adventures.

Thank you for waiting! I hope it was worth it!

As a heads-up, there are some spoilers for events in future LN volumes in Keith's section. It starts when he says "Ah, I was thinking out loud…" and ends when you read "It had been a worrisome whirlwind of drama and tragedy."

(And the changes of spelling between Cat and Kat are on purpose, depending on who talks to him. When it's Cat, it's because they're referencing the animal).

Despite the distance separating them, when Alph Hingley, Keith Powell, Hugh Mercury, Bridget Page, Elliot Collins, and the many other friends Anne and Shall made over the years received a notice for the wedding ceremony of a certain sugar master and an obsidian fairy, they all shared the same thought.

It’s about time.

Followed immediately by: wait, if I received an invitation, then who’s planning this?

Bridget, with her fiancé Orland and her ex-fiancé Elliot in tow, was the first one to arrive, of course. She greeted Anne with a warm hug, gave a solemn nod to Shall fen Shall and Mythril Lid Pod, and went straight to the crux of things.

“The wedding is only weeks away! Do you have everything planned?”

“Yes.

“Your dress?”

“Almost done. The seamstress wanted to see me one or two more times to make the final adjustments.”

“And Shall’s outfit?”

“All set!”

“What about the reception?”

“Right next to the church. The head priest and the mayor said they’d lend us tables and chairs so we could eat and party outside.”

“And how many people are you expecting? Do you have a guest list?”

Anne handed over the list, which Bridget briefly skimmed through. She nodded in satisfaction.

“Who’s in the charge of the catering? Oh, and what about the sugar confection? Did you order one? Who did you ask?”

“A-about that…”

“She was planning of making her own,” Shall said, his first intervention since Bridget started grilling Anne over the details. He hadn’t looked up once from whatever he was sewing, but it was obvious he’d kept up with the conversation. “She said she didn’t want to trouble anyone.”

“Shall!” Anne cried, betrayed.

Elliot frowned. He threw an arm around Anne’s shoulders, drawing her to him. He ruffled her hair.

“That won’t do, Anne. Do you know how many people would die to make your wedding sugar sculpture? Just think of it: Hingley, Powell, Mercury, Nadir, Valentine, King, Orland, Bridget—"

“Why did you cite me last, Elliot?”

“— and of course, saving the best for last: good old me. The silver sugar viscount and the best sugar masters of this generation at your beck and call. Soooo, who’s going to be the lucky sod?”

“Can’t I pick myself?”

“Ah ah,” Elliot tutted, wagging a finger. “No, no, no. Don’t you know it’s bad luck?”

“You guys should all make a sugar confection, and then we can choose a winner on the wedding day!” Mythril piped up.

“We? I wasn’t aware this was your wedding, Mythril Lid Pod,” Shall added.

“Ugh, you know what I meant!”

“Yes. You meant to stuff yourself full of silver sugar.”

“I’m going to gnaw on your wedding tunic.”

“No you won’t!” Bridget cut in. “Do you know how expensive those clothes are? Oh! I almost forgot! What about cosmetics? And your hair?”

Anne blanched, and that was an answer in and of itself.

“Anne, I can’t believe you! Come on, we’re going to Lewiston right now!”

“B-but the wedding isn’t for another mont—”

Shall, Mythril, Elliot, and Orland watched the blonde woman drag her friend. They were all quiet. Elliot made the prayer sign one would for the deceased.

Orland smacked him. To Shall, he said: “Aren’t you going to help Anne out? She’s your fiancée.”

“And she’s being dragged around by your fiancée,” Shall retorted. The implication was clear: if you’re not going to stop her, don’t expect me to.

“Hm.”

No one pointed out that the obsidian fairy, a one-man army of his own, could easily have prevented the women from leaving if he was so inclined. Keyword being ‘inclined”. No one could convince Shall (or Bridget for that matter) to do anything they didn’t want to unless you were called Anne Halford.

Mythril repeated the gesture Elliot made moments earlier.

“Yo.”

“Kat!”

Anne’s face positively lit up, shrieking when the older sugar master lifted her up in a bear hug. The gesture might be uncharacteristic coming from him, but hey, it wasn’t every day that his apprentice-figure was getting married. She deserved the rare show of affection.

“Hiya Anne,” Benjamin said once she was back on the ground. He was as cool and relaxed as ever. “Congratulations on the wedding~”

“Thank you, Benjamin! But it’s still two weeks away.”

“Oh good, we’re early~ The weather was just awful in Snowpoint, I thought we wouldn’t make it.”

“It smells good in here, small stuff,” Kat said. “What’s cooking?”

“An apple pie! I wanted to make a big one for the wedding, so Bridget and I are trying to figure out the right proportions. Want to be our taste-tester?”

“I won’t say no to free food.”

He followed Anne, finding Bridget, Orland, and Elliot huddled around a stove. Or rather, it was more accurate to say Elliot was huddled around the stove. Orland was holding the hearth door open while Bridget put a knife to a delicious-smelling pie. The air was filled with the scent of clove and cinnamon.

“Oooo, Hingley. That’s a nostalgic face if I’ve seen one.”

“Why am I not surprised to find you here, you freeloader.” Kat rolled his eyes. “Langston, Page. Congrats on your engagement again.”

“Thank you,” they answered in unison. Bridget added: “I think the pie is ready. Once it cools, we can eat.”

“Apple pie?” someone shouted from outside. “Wait for me! Don’t you dare eat without the great Mythril Lid Pod!”

It wasn’t long before Mythril showed up, perched on Shall’s shoulders. The two (or rather, the latter) had gone to chop some wood, the supply depleting faster with the addition of Bridget, Orland, and Elliot.

It was also a good way to keep the insatiable Mythril out of the way, lest he try to eat the apple pie dough raw.

“Oh, hi Kat! I thought I recognized your wagon outside! See, Shall fen Shall? I told you it was his!”

“Thank you for your wisdom,” Shall answered, more sarcasm than actual gratitude.

“Rude as ever, huh, Shall,” Kat said, leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

“Done hibernating, mister Cat? Glad you could make it to the wedding.”

“Hey, play nice.”

“No, no, let them, Anne.” Elliot snickered. “It’s free entertainment!”

“At least I’m doing something. You’re just lazing around, Collins.”

“Hey, hey. I’ll have you know I’m here on official Page workshop business.”

“Oh, really? And what is that?”

“We’ve got a wedding sugar confection for a very important client.”

“And where is that sugar confection? I only saw a regular carriage outside, not a crafter’s wagon.”

“Oh, that’s easy. It’s still in my head!”

“You lazy ass—”

While Elliot and Kat bickered, Anne scooted over to Shall, helping him put the wood away.

“It sure has gotten more lively,” she whispered.

“Has it? I tuned them all out since day one.”

Anne shoved him slightly, but the grin on her face betrayed her amusement. “Don’t tell Mythril Lid Pod, or we won’t hear the end of it.”

“Ha. I don’t think we’ll ever have trouble hearing him.”

She held her hands out to take another log. Shall took the opportunity to bring her hand to his mouth, using his body to hide the gesture from their friends. It wasn’t like he had trouble with displays of affections, but Anne and he could do without the teasing.

Especially Collins’s.

“Only two more weeks,” he murmured, voice pitched low, just enough to reach Anne’s ears. She felt every twist of his lips, every syllable pressed in her skin. In the low light, Shall’s eyes gleamed a beautiful dark amethyst.

She blushed, feeling warm, and squeezed his hand back with a shy smile.

“Hey, lovebirds! Get over here before the shrimp eats your share of the pie,” Elliot interrupted with his oh-so-great timing. True to his words, Mythril’s cheeks were full, resembling a squirrel.

Shall and Anne exchanged a look, sharing similar thoughts. Those would be the longest two weeks of their lives.

“I wasn’t expecting everyone to be here already… I’m a bit embarrassed.”

“You’re right on time actually, Keith! Bridget came in early because she wanted to help with the wedding prep, and Elliot and Orland tagged along. And Kat left Snowpoint ahead of time because he didn’t want to be stuck if the roads got snowed in.”

“Still, if I had known, I would have pushed for mister Radcliffe to let me out much earlier.” Keith pointed to the back of his wagon with a hopeful smile. “I hope my sculpture will make it up to you. It’s one of the pieces I’m most proud of!”

“I’m looking forward to it! What did you make?”

“That’s a secret. I can’t have you spoiling your own wedding gift.”

Anne pouted. “Everybody’s so cagey! First, it’s Bridget kicking me out of the venue, then Elliot telling me I can’t go home because he and Orland are making my wedding candy on behalf of the Page workshop.”

“What about Shall? And mister Hingley?”

“They’re checking with the innkeeper if we have enough rooms for all the guests.”

So far, all five artisans and three fairies had piled up in Anne’s and Shall’s home, with Anne and Shall sharing the master bedroom, Bridget in the guest room, Elliot and Orland in the other, and Kat and Mythril sleeping downstairs in the living room. However, after the reception, Anne and Shall would want for intimacy on their wedding night, and so their friends needed somewhere else where to sleep.

“The two of them? Will they be alright?” Keith asked, referencing to Kat’s short temper and Shall’s ability to get a rise out just about anyone with pinpoint precision. The two men got along like… well… cat and dog.

“Mythril Lid Pod’s with them, but if I had known everyone would give me the boot, I would have gone with them,” Anne sighed.

“In that case, do you know what to do when something’s bothering you?”

“Run and leave it all behind, right?”

Keith blinked, but a pleased smile appeared on his face. “I’m surprised you remember that. It’s been so long ago.”

“Of course! I was under a lot of stress back then, you know? Your words were a big help, they really cheered me up.”

“Just my words?” he teased.

“You know what I mean!”

He laughed. “I’m glad I could help.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence, watching the flowers sway in the slight spring breeze. All the snow had already melted, and the land was slowly regaining its colors, waking up from a long deep sleep.

“To think you’re getting married…” Keith murmured under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Ah, I was thinking out loud…” He sighed. There was something wistful, but also peaceful about his smile. “Talking about the past got me feeling nostalgic. To think that back then, our biggest worry was whether we’d make silver sugar master.”

True. A lot happened in just a few short years: Anne and Shall’s abduction by his brother Rafael fen Rafael, Shall taking his responsibilities as a potential fairy king and bargaining with the human king to slowly give fairies back their autonomy, Rafael fen Rafael’s return, and Anne and Shall almost dying at his hands and paying the price of surviving such an ordeal with their memories (Anne of her painstakingly hard-earned sugar crafting skills, Shall of his meeting with Anne and all those she brought to his life)…

It had been a worrisome whirlwind of drama and tragedy, but their happy ending was finally within reach.

And not just Anne’s and Shall’s… everyone’s: Bridget and Orland were engaged and most likely the next to get married; Elliot had assumed the reigns of the workshop, taking the strain off Glen’s shoulders; the Page workshop was flourishing ever since the Holy Beginnings exhibit; Kat and Keith kept up their work as sugar masters, refining their skills and gaining in recognition.

Everyone was moving forward towards a bright future.

But a part of Anne missed the old days, a time where life was much simpler.

“This might sound silly, but I hope we all stay in touch. I… I don’t want us to drift apart,” she said, fighting to get the words out of her tightening throat. She was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of sadness and bittersweetness.

“Of course.” Keith patted her on the back, kind and comforting, and the gesture almost made Anne lose her composure. She sniffed the tears back. “We can meet up for the Royal Fair, for the Holy Beginnings, for Valentine’s day… Your birthday’s on the sixth month, right? So that will be our summer reunion.”

“If we only gathered for my birthday, that’d be unfair.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s come up with our own summer holiday, then. That way, no one’s jealous.”

Anne laughed, shaky. “As long as I don’t have to come up with the name.”

“You can design incredible sugar sculptures to wow royalty, but you’re stumped by names?”

“Hey! I’m a silver sugar master, not a name master!”

He laughed. Keith kept on patting her back until she felt better. She was truly lucky to have such an attentive and thoughtful person as a friend.

“Keith?”

“Hm?”

There was so much she wanted to thank him for, but she doubted she could ever convey the depths of her feelings, so Anne poured all her gratitude, her happiness, and her appreciation into two simple words: “Thank you.”

Keith wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. He whispered, barely a murmur on the wind, “Anytime.”

“Anne! Anne! Congratulations on the wedding!”

“Actually, it’s ‘congratulations on the engagement.’”

Noah ignored Valentine’s correction, clinging to Anne. “Can I see your dress?”

“Not today!” Anne laughed at the fairy’s pout. “Don’t worry, you’ll see it in two days.”

“But that’s too faaaaaaaar.”

“Noah.” It was Glen who spoke. The older man was on the edge of his seat, waiting for Anne and Noah to clear the way so he could get off the carriage. “If you’re that excited, why don’t you go check the church? That’s where the ceremony will be held.”

“Oh, in that case, could you tell Bridget, Orland, and Elliot that mister Glen is here?” Anne added.

“Will do!”

And just as quickly as he had latched onto Anne, Noah was off. Nadir and Valentine sputtered, giving Anne their regards before running after the fairy. Noah might be older than them both, but he was as innocent and carefree as a child.

“Mister Glen. You seem to be doing well.”

“I am. I feel much better these days.” Glen stood and Anne hovered nearby just in case, but the older man managed to make his way out of the carriage on his own. He regarded her warmly. “I believe you’ve grown. I don’t remember you being this tall.”

“I think you shrank, mister Glen,” King said. He waved at Anne. “Yo, thanks for the invitation. And congrats!”

“Thank you! I’m glad you could make it!”

“Of course. You’re one of us, even if you don’t work for the workshop officially anymore,” Glen said. “If you had told us earlier, we could have organized you a grand wedding. But what’s done is done. Are you all set?”

“Yes! Bridget was a big help. I thought I had everything handled, but there was so much more left than I expected!”

“The missy planned her own wedding months ahead. She knows her stuff.”

“Before I forget. Here.” Glen handed Anne a leather pouch, heavy and thick. There was a tinkling sound when he moved it, almost like that of coins. “For you.”

“Wait, why are you giving this to me? Are you not staying?”

“Don’t look so alarmed. I wouldn’t miss your wedding like I wouldn’t miss my daughter’s. This is a long overdue payment.”

“For what?”

“For your time as our head artisan.”

Anne blinked. She had assumed that role years ago, her goal to retrieve Shall’s wing, then to fulfill her promise to revive the Page workshop. It had never been about money.

“Mister Glen, I can’t—”

“Can’t accept it? It’s rude to refuse a gift, you know?”

“Just take it, or he’ll just ask Noah to hide it so you can’t return it to us,” King said.

Anne sighed. All her friends said she was stubborn and impossible to sway once her mind was set, but they were as equally headstrong when they wanted to be.

“Thank you, mister Glen. I appreciate it.”

“Treat yourself, Anne.” He patted her shoulder. “It’s good manners to make use of the gifts you’re given. It shows your appreciation more than saying thanks ever will.”

She was working on that, on relying on her friends, on accepting their goodwill and affection (whether through money, gifts, food or kind words) without falling back on old habits of doing everything on her own.

“Then I’ll buy myself some strawberry cakes. I’ve been craving those for a while.”

“That’s the spirit,” he laughed.

Anne flopped around like a fish out of water, sleep eluding her. Shall sat up from the bedding they’d laid on the ground, next to the bed — he would have been more than happy sleeping with Anne, but she’d claimed it improper before the ceremony. His guess was that she was still shy with anything beyond hugs and kisses, but also didn’t want to risk Mythril finding them twined together which… fair enough — and leaned in, cheek against his palm.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“I can see that. Too excited for tomorrow?”

“I… I kind of don’t want tomorrow to come.” Anne gasped and put her hands to her mouth, as if she realized how her words could be interpreted only after the fact. “Ah, no! I didn’t mean it like that! I…"

He let her talk. With her tendency to ramble, her true feelings would come spilling out sooner and later. And his patience was rewarded.

“I’m so happy, you know? The past few weeks were so fun, with everyone coming and staying over. I didn’t realize how long it’s been since we were all together. But once the wedding’s over, everyone will leave… we’ll all go back to living our own lives…” She sniffed, voice shaking. “I know it’s silly, but I miss everyone. I miss them even though they haven’t left.”

Shall was reminded of Hugh’s words, many years ago — words he knew true, but words he’d never forgiven the man for since they meant to separate him from Anne. “Humans get used to comfort so quickly, they forget how to go back to their old lives.”

They seemed to sum Anne’s feelings perfectly.

“The Page headquarters are a day of travel away from here, and Lewiston less than half a day. Cat also gave you his shop, but you know him. He’ll show up to check on you once in a while,” he told her, cupping her face. This caused Anne’s unshed tears to bead at the corners of her eyes, and he wiped them away with his thumb. “Those you love and who love you will always be close to you, no matter the distance. But if the feeling gets too unbearable and you want to see them again, then let’s hit the road together.”

Anne’s smile was wobbly, but it was a start. He opened his arms, and she gladly went for a hug, burying her face against his chest as her shoulders shook quietly. He patted her hair, and she relaxed in his embrace after a while. She smelled nice and she was soft to hold.

“Thank you. I feel much better.”

“You should go to sleep. You have a long day tomorrow.”

“Oh, and you don’t?”

“I don’t need as much sleep as you.”

“I know. It’s so unfair. Do you know how much more work I could get done otherwise?”

“You’d just throw yourself at silver sugar until you passed out from exhaustion. Which you have before.”

“What if it’s just an excuse so you’ll carry me to bed?”

Such underhanded schemes weren’t like Anne, but he humored her just the same. “Just ask me then. No need to go to such extremes.”

“Hey, you guys still awake? Is this a bad time?”

At Mythril’s voice, Anne scooted out of Shall’s laps, putting a respectable distance between them. She ignored the disgruntled expression on his face. “No, we were just talking. Did we wake you?”

“Nah, I wanted to check the moon. It’s overhead, which means it’s now officially your wedding day!” He sauntered over to them and held out two small boxes. “And I wanted to be the first one to give you your gifts!”

Shall and Anne shared a look before taking the gifts. Shall’s was a pendant in the shape a golden full moon, the metal so polished it reflected his face. He glanced over to Anne. She had received the same thing.

“They’re matching necklaces!” Mythril exclaimed, taking his own out. “When we’re apart and you get lonely, just look at it and remember we’re all under the same sky, watching the same moon.”

Huh. Did he listen in on them or was it just an incredible coincidence? Then again, it was possible Mythril had picked up Anne’s underlying fears over the past weeks — he could be surprisingly perceptive.

Anne, whose emotions were already running high, was once again on the verge of tears, but she looked touched, rather than sad.

“Oh, Mythril…”

“H-hey, are you crying? Why are you crying? Do you hate it that much? Don’t cry, Anne, I’ll get you something else! S-shall fen Shall, help! Do something!”

“They’re tears of happiness, dummy.”

“Huh? Don’t be stupid, how can you cry from being happy?”

Anne shook her head with a small laugh, scooping the tiny fairy and bringing him close to her chest. She cupped one hand around his body and gently laid her cheek on the top of his head in the best approximation of a hug she could manage considering their size difference.

“Thank you so much, Mythril Lid Pod. I love it,” she whispered, overflowing with gratefulness.

He clutched at her front, cheeks pink and eyes downcast in embarrassment. “...you’re welcome.”

Anne set him down, wiping her eyes, and stood. “I just keep crying lately. I’m going to freshen up. I’ll be right back.”

Shall nodded. Mythril sat down on Shall’s pillow, playing with his necklace. It was quiet, if not for the occasional sniff coming from the small fairy. Shall didn’t comment on it.

“Hey, Shall fen Shall?” Mythril said after a while.

“Hm?”

Another sniff, longer. “I think I get it. Happy tears.”

Shall snorted softly.

“Hey, Shall fen Shall?”

“What?”

“Can I sleep on your pillow tonight?”

Looked like Anne wasn’t the only one hit with a bout of nostalgia and dreading separation.

It had been a while since they all slept in the same room. It was a necessity at first, born from the fact Anne barely had enough money to afford even a single room in inns. Even after she’d won the thousand cress prize in Philax, she kept her frugal ways.

It was only after the second royal fair, once Anne made sugar master and established her reputation, earning herself a commendable wage, that they started to rent extra beds or, on rare occasions, extra rooms.

And then everything went down the drain when Rafael fen Rafael returned, upheaving their normalcy. Once things had settled down, their new normal was for Mythril to sleep on his own while Shall kept watch over Anne, sitting in a chair or lying in nearby bedding.

This would be the first (and probably the last) time in months they would share a room.

“Fine.”

“Please, please, please! I promise I won’t make a peep! I’ll even— what did you say?”

Shall laid down, covering himself with his blanket. “Go to sleep, Mythril Lid Pod. It’s late.”

When Anne came back, she found Shall and Mythril lying side by side. The smaller fairy was sprawled out like a star, his eyes closed. Not wanting to be left out, she slipped in with them. Shall scooted backwards to give her more space.

“Good night, you two,” Anne said.

“G’night Anne… Shall fen Shhhh…”

It wasn’t long before the two were asleep. Shall adjusted the covers over them and watched over the two people most precious to him.

“Don’t!”

“You can’t!”

“Someone, stop him!”

“Easy for you to say!”

“What’s all this ruckus about?” Bridget asked, pulling away from where she was putting the final touches on Anne’s make-up. She frowned at the muffled screaming. The door to the dressing room shook and rattled, as if someone was leaning against it.

“Bridget, you gotta help us!” Elliot shouted from behind. “Lock the door!”

“What’s going on, Elliot?”

“Move aside,” Shall said. His voice might be muffled, but his annoyance was clear.

“I told you man; it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony!”

“That’s ridiculous. I should be able to see my wife whenever I want.”

“You’re not married yet, you dumbass. Show some patience.” It was Kat.

“Actually, they are. They signed the paperwork months ago.”

Mythril gasped, as if realizing he had let slip something he shouldn’t have.

Too late. It was like someone had sucked all the sound out. You could hear people’s breathing with how quiet it was.

“What?” pretty much everyone shouted in unison. Bridget turned to Anne, gaping, whereas Noah tilted his head in confusion, not understanding the fuss.

Anne would have buried her face in her hands if she didn’t risk ruining her make-up. Of course this would get brought up right before the ceremony and in front of all of their friends. Gathering the poofy skirt of her wedding dress, she made her way out of the dressing room, intent to explain the situation.

Instantly, six pairs of hands blocked Shall’s line of sight. The fairy huffed.

“When Shall and I looked for someone who could officiate our marriage, most of the priests we asked refused to.” Many of them had squirmed at the idea of a human and a fairy marrying, the result of decades, if not centuries, of subconsciously ingrained bias. “I told Hugh about this, and he said that as silver sugar viscount, he was authorized to oversee our marriage. So we signed the paperwork with him and Mythril as our witnesses.”

The silent was thick and heavy, everyone processing the information. It was Elliot who broke down first, bursting with laughter.

“That’s— that’s—” He could barely speak with how hard he was laughing. “Oh man, and you guys call me a schemer.”

“It wasn’t like we were trying to hide it!” Anne retorted, cheeks puffing. “It was just a formality.”

“Only you would call being married on paper ‘a formality.’”

“Because it is!”

“Sorry to break it you, kiddo, but that paperwork is as binding as any vow. As far as the kingdom’s concerned, you’ve been husband and wife for months now,” Hugh added with a smirk. He looked all too pleased and amused at Anne’s embarrassment. “Though I suppose if you asked Shall, he’d say it’s been even longer.”

The fairy crossed his arms, but didn’t deny Hugh’s claims. Anne was glad for the heavy layers on her face because she was sure her blush would have been as bright as the sun. She certainly felt as warm.

“You look very pretty, Anne,” Keith said, changing the subject. It triggered a flood of compliments from the other guests, their kind words overlapping.

“Yeah, you look great!”

“Beautiful.”

“Hey, where’s your veil?”

“I got it!”

“You’re all doing this on purpose,” Shall grumbled. He could easily have plowed through the crowd to check on Anne or moved aside the hands blocking his vision, but he had grown tolerant of his friends’ shenanigans.

Anne was filled with a surge of appreciation for her fiancé. He had come so far compared to when they first met.

“If you’re all ready, how about we proceed with the ceremony?” Glen said.

“Go on ahead, everyone. There’s something I want to say to Shall.”

Her friends looked at Anne, then back at Shall, uncertain.

“Shall, are your eyes closed?”

“They are.”

“There you have it. I promise I’ll be quick.”

Satisfied, they all filed down the hallway, headed for the altar, leaving Anne alone with Shall.

Given the opportunity, she took in her fiancé’s (husband’s) appearance. He had always been a beautiful man, with fair smooth skin, glossy dark hair, high cheekbones, and a sharp jaw. His striking features made people’s heads turn.

Some might find his wedding outfit simple — a long dark tunic over breeches, with jewel-patterned embroidery lining his shoulders, his sleeves, and his lapels — but in Anne’s opinion, it only made him more handsome, if that was even possible.

“So you’re allowed to stare all you want, but I can’t look at you?”

“Just a little longer. Once the ceremony starts, you can look.”

Anne grabbed and squeezed his hands, a small compensation for all his patience. His hands slowly traveled up her arms, her shoulders, and curled around her jaw, as if trying to perceive her through touch since his eyes weren’t allowed. Anne felt goosebumps at the feel of Shall’s strong and slender fingers on her bare skin.

“You better not shy away,” he breathed.

“I-I won’t.” Anne felt tongue-tied by their proximity. She felt like she was getting sucked in, but she resisted the urge to move in for a kiss — she wasn’t sure she’d find the strength of will to pull away. “Sorry about earlier. I forgot to tell you about that little tradition.”

“It’s fine. I waited years, I can wait a few more minutes.”

She smiled, even if he couldn’t see it. “Then let’s not waste any more time. I’ll be going first.”

She turned around, but was stopped in her tracks as arms wrapped around her waist, firm and unyielding. There was a puff of hot air on the back of her neck, and Anne’s whole body tensed when she felt a pair of lips on her skin. She squeaked as they moved up to behind her ear. Her legs trembled and her heart was pounding in her temples.

“S-Shall…”

“Tradition says I can’t look, not that I can’t touch or taste.”

Anne’s mouth was dry. She was frozen in surprise and excitement, but just as quickly as he had embraced her, Shall let her go. There was a satisfied and smug look on his face, even with his eyes closed.

“See you soon, my future wife.”

She didn’t need to be told twice, and basically sprinted out of there before Shall got more handsy and frayed her nerves. She met with Glen right outside the doors leading to the altar. He had offered to give her away, as she didn’t have any blood family, and Anne couldn’t think of anyone better suited for the role than a father himself.

“All set?”

She took a deep breath. Her heart was doing flip-flops in her chest and her hands were faintly shaking as she linked arms with Glen. “All set.”

He smiled at her, calm and reassuring. All their friends were seated and chatting with one another, but the second she stepped in, they turned to look at her. Elliot, Nadir and King hooted, Kat, Keith, and Valentine waved, Orland nodded and Bridget smiled at her, and Mythril jumped up and down in joy.

Anne waved as she passed each row of guests. She deliberately avoided looking at Shall, waiting for her at the altar. She knew whatever expression he made would make her weak in the knees.

Glen led her down the aisle, and she swapped his arm for Shall’s. She kept looking at her feet. It would be embarrassing to stumble and fall at this point.

Finally, once they stood in front of Hugh, their officiant, she allowed herself a glance at her fiancé (and on paper husband), immediately regretting and glad for her earlier choice.

She had been right. Shall was looking at her like she was the sun and he a sunflower. His eyes were intense, half-lidded and heady, and his strong features showed a fierce warmth and passion. She felt both like running away and wanting to stay in place to bask in such a rare expression.

“Alright everyone, I’ll be officiating this ceremony. I won’t bore you with a long speech,” Hugh said. The attendees got quiet, expectant. “Anne Halford, will you take Shall fen Shall for a husband?”

“I do.”

“Shall fen Shall, will you take Anne Halford for a wife? Will you love her from now on for better or for worse? In sickness and in health? In silver sugar obsession and in creative drought? In—”

Everyone snickered and even Anne giggled quietly. It was obvious Hugh was doing this to aggravate Shall, who bore the unnecessarily prolonged vows with admirable patience. Anne could tell when he tuned Hugh out, because he rolled his eyes and decided to look at her instead. They shared a smile, expressions soft with love, as they waited for Hugh’s speech to end.

“I do.”

“Good. Any objections from the guests?”

“None! You know there’s none!” Mythril yelled. “Hurry it up!”

“Then by the powers conferred to me as silver sugar viscount, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss—”

Shall didn’t need to be told twice nor was he going to wait a second longer. In one swift move, he’d lifted Anne’s veil and leaned in to kiss his proper wife.

“—the bride. You know, it’s rude to interrupt people when they’re talking.”

Cheers and shouts and clapping and confetti and flower petals burst all around them, swallowing Hugh’s friendly teasing. Not that Anne and Shall paid any mind to anything that wasn’t their spouse. They pulled back from their kiss, grinning, forehead and nose touching. Their happiness was obvious.

And just as all those weeks ago when they received the invitation, everyone shared the same thought.

It’s about time.

#sugar apple fairy tale #my fanfiction #shallanne #happy early new year and belated s.hall bday gift!#sweetchcolate's nonsense of the day #fanfiction

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vacantgodling · 2 months

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🙅, ☎️ , 😘 ,🎚️, and 🦺 for Hya and Amon 👀👀👀

HENRIKEEEE <3 thank u for asking also i miss u sm weh 😭

🙅 Do they have any hard-no’s that someone wouldn’t expect?

hya: honestly, probably not. i feel like most people who were to genuinely guess his kinks would assume them correctly (unless they assume (1) he doesn’t have sex cuz they’re not wrong it’s only amon that actually ignites hya’s sex drive (2) you’re erecia who was SOOOO convinced hya was a bottom that she still doesn’t believe he’s not pfff)

amon: honestly amon doesn’t have many hard no’s, but actually until hya, bondage was a hard no for him, but he trusts hya WAY more than he trusts random gang members or people he was just in a fight with (which are the kinds of folks he usually had sex with before hya) so you can kind of understand his reasoning. the thing about hya and bondage as well is hya doesn’t tie him up in any way that amon couldn’t get out of if he didn’t want to—it’s almost more symbolic to the power hya has over him that makes amon stay in place. the ropes are more… symbolism to him and in a weird way, hya also understands that. it’s the power play, not that amon can’t legitimately get out; hya tends to enjoy tying amon up “prettily” (borderline shibari tbh) and less of the “yeah i’m actually capturing you/holding you down” shit. it’s one of the weird unspoken things they kind of just Get about each other.

☎️ Oh no, the phone is ringing in the middle of sex! What now?

hya would answer the phone of course, and unsurprisingly it would be tagetes, as they’re the only one who actually would Call hya. hya’s voice would stay perfectly controlled even as he was guiding amon to suck on his dick and honestly, the entire situation turns on amon so much he may start dripping through his pants. he really is attracted to the power hya has over him (even if he also views bottoming as a sort of power in its own right)

😘 They get a sultry look from a partner at a public event. What’s their next move?

i’m just gonna leave a quote here from chapter 9 specifically bc this technically happened and what did they do? they snuck off and fucked 💀

Hyacinthus glanced over his shoulder, only slightly; not enough to draw attention to it. The voice that rang in his ear was but a passing whisper, smokey like an open fire, and sent that same warmth chasing through Hyacinthus’s gut. In his peripheral, he caught sight of a plain black crow mask. In the dim electric light of the room, it glimmered with embedded black gems, only just so to give it the illusion of motion. It was a half mask like his own; the slow smile that came to the person’s face when they realized Hyacinthus was looking was far too telling.

“Shall I invite you to a dance?” The stranger asked, sliding behind him. They were taller than Hyacinthus, their shoulders broad yet dwarfed by his own. Familiar black gloves crept like vines up Hyacinthus’s waist, featherlight and not truly grasping but the tease that they could was there. Hyacinthus was thankful that most by now seemed to have lost interest in trying to speak with him, leaving him to focus on what he truly came here for.

Hyacinthus wasn’t sure he cared who saw them at this point.

“The less we are seen the better.” Hyacinthus still said on principle, and he pressed back into the figure, his voice low like the rumble of the tide. “The drawing room in the South Wing I have instructed to be purposefully unoccupied. We rendezvous there.”

“Then consider this adieu,” The stranger breathed against his neck. “Until we soon meet again.”

🎚️ Are they loud during sex? Do they like a noisy partner?

hya: he’s actually quite quiet during sex; yes he’ll talk dirty and tease and command, but his voice (in general) is more of a deep rumble/growl that’s reserved for whoever he’s speaking with’s ears. when they’re actually getting down to business he does moan but it’s again a deep thing and not something you’d be able to hear through walls. loud enough to light amon’s spine ablaze with desire but you probably wouldn’t hear it unless you were in the room or the walls were very, VERY thin.

amon: loud as fuck and he’s unashamed about it. if it feels good the whole world is going to know; and he knows that hya loves hearing him even if he won’t admit it out loud.

🦺How brazen are they about wearing kink gear in public?

hya: i’d say like a 4/10, however, if you count anything resembling lingerie AS actual lingerie then like an 8. he likes wearing clothing that accentuates his assets and sure that’s definitely tight tops and silk dresses, but it can also be things that show his cleavage or midriff etc. in a modern au it’d be an 8 all the time probably but he’s got a slightly different aesthetic than modern times so like; wouldn’t be against it generally speaking but yknow. fashion comes first for him.

amon: i mean, during aforementioned scene from chapter 9, amon had a butt plug in the whole night so pretty much brazen as fuck 💀💀 he’s very good at acting as though nothing is amiss but in a modern au if they had access to a remote controlled vibrator he’d be the one begging hya to use it on him versus the other way around. he does have an exhibition kink among his many others so HFHFHF

#s: paramour #they’re dumb i love them

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justwritedreams · 1 year

Text

Runaway with me | Yuta

Yuta x Reader Word count: 2262 Genre: fluff Warning: I mean reader is horny but nothing really happens 🤣 Author: Maari Note: Summer it’s killing me right now 😫 it's been a shitty month so i needed to come here and write to pass the time. Sorry if there’s any mistake guys 💚 it's part 2 but you don't necessarily need to read the first one Requests: can you make a part two of Yuta Highway To Heaven but based on Runaway With Me by Carly Rae Jepsen? I get soooo much Yuta vibes from it Part one

⪢ NCT Masterlist

Y/N was helping Jaehyun take the bags out of the car when a hand reached for the handle she was holding, she didn't even have to turn around to know who it was. The scent as it filled her nostrils gave it away and it wasn't as if she could so easily forget the hand that now helping her.

She smiled before she even turned around.

“Let me help you.” Yuta's soft voice pierced Y/N's ears and went straight to her heart, making it beat faster in anticipation.

She let go of the bag but not before Yuta touched her skin lightly, a shiver ran through her body and she turned to face him at the same moment. Yuta was close to her but he wasn't touching her as she wanted, although she felt his body heat so close that it was intoxicating.

"Thanks."

“It was a good trip, wasn’t it?” He grinned and Y/N had to bite her bottom lip to contain the way her body wanted to mirror his reaction.

Y/N, Yuta and Mark had taken the backseat while Jaehyun and Taeyong had taken the front seat. Mark was sleeping on the other side of the window and Yuta was in the middle between her and his friend, his long legs were touching her the whole time and it's not like she would think it was bad. Her heart racing, anxiety coursing through her veins every time his knee brushed against her leg… it all felt too good to stop.

And even when Yuta held her hand in the car, lacing their fingers together as she felt his intense gaze on her, if there was any barrier for her to resist, it had fallen like dust.

“Yeah, it was.” she lowered her gaze for a few seconds, shy.

There was no reason to be shy, it wasn't like Yuta was a stranger, quite the opposite. If there was anyone she was seeing more often, it was him.

The championship was approaching and she watched all the team's practices, of her own free will and because she couldn't stop making out with Yuta under the bleachers.

It was Taeyong's idea to go away for the weekend for the boys on the team to have fun, relaxing a bit before the competition would help with the pressure of winning.

Johnny's parents' beach house was the perfect place and there they were, the 3 cars that brought the rest of their friends parked in the driveway.

They were walking side by side into the house when Yuta took two steps back and approached Y/N from behind who felt her whole body shiver when his breath was against her ear.

“I can't wait to get away from the beach with you.” he whispered and she closed her eyes for a few seconds so that the sensation of hearing him so close would linger.

When she opened her eyes again, Yuta was already back beside her with the same smile and she just laughed, walking again.

She didn't even need to say anything, Yuta knew her by the look and knew that she was feeling the same thing as him.

Arriving inside the house there was already a discussion about who would stay in which room and after much talking, it was decided that the girls would sleep in one room and the boys in another. An idea that was very much defended by Mark and Taeyong.

After taking their bags to their rooms and getting ready, they ran to the beach.

To take advantage of the good weather, they took food and even the guitar, the expectation was to spend as much time as possible on the beach.

"Are you going to the sea already?" Jaehyun asked the girls including Y/N who took off their beach cover ups.

They nodded in agreement.

"And the pretty ones aren't going to put on sunscreen?" Taeil joked, drawing laughter as Yuta walked over to them and threw his arm around Y/N's shoulder, who smiled.

"We already did, in the house." She answered.

"Why do you think it took us so long?" Another girl completed and the boys agreed.

Y/N looked at Yuta who was now lifting the sunscreen he was holding, he was staring at her with pleading eyes.

She pretended to frown but took the sunscreen willingly, she wouldn't deny that, he then kissed her cheek so fast but so good that she didn't react for a few seconds, until Yuta hit the sand for her to follow him.

Laughing, Y/N knelt down behind Yuta and shifted the sunscreen from her hands to place on his back.

She smiled proudly when she saw that he shivered when she touched his shoulder, it was fair after all seeing his tattoo had done the same thing to her. Yuta wasn't extremely strong, he was slender but still had nice shoulders that begged Y/N to apply a little more strength, when she realized what her body had done Yuta's neck snapped back and he looked at her intently, as he always did.

Y/N could never control her heart palpitations when she had his eyes totally drawn to her and how she liked the way he looked at her.

As if she were the only woman in the world.

He smiled sideways and she did the same, but moved her hands to his back, where she spread the rest of the sunscreen.

"Thanks for the massage." He winked with one eye and she shook her head.

Even when he was kind and polite, his tone sounded flirtatious.

"Anytime." she replied before getting up and taking off the dress she was wearing right there, with Yuta so close that if he wanted to pull her close he would be able to.

She noticed the way he scanned her body up and down and bit down on his bottom lip, making her legs start to wobble.

She was wearing a black bikini, she knew he loved it when she wore that color and she had done it on purpose.

Y/N heard her friends scream her name into the sea and it was her turn to wink at Yuta before running out into them, feeling Yuta's eyes into her the entire way.

That didn't go unnoticed by anyone and prompted some jokes which Y/N responded with just a laugh.

As she swam, feeling Yuta's piercing eyes on her, she felt as if every inch of her body was calling to him. It was so much stronger than the waves she was having to fight against, the difference was, she didn't want to fight the way he made her feel.

It had all started with no intention of getting attached but Yuta was addictive and without even realizing it, he was already stuck not only in her head but also in her body that she couldn't stay away from him for long.

Using the fact that she was hungry as an excuse, Y/N walked back to the sand where her spot was saved next to him. Yuta had Mark's guitar and strummed a few notes while their friends chatted happily.

As soon as he arrived, Yuta paused for a bit just to pick up the towel and hand it to Y/N, who smiled in thanks and started drying her hair as she sat next to him.

“Are you learning to play the guitar?” she asked, interested, her eyes getting lost in the way Yuta's fingers strummed the guitar.

“Yeah, I have to know what to do with my fingers.” Y/N looked up at Yuta's face upon hearing him respond and she felt her cheeks start to burn.

His eyes were filled with a sparkle she knew and loved, they got that way when he started flirting with her.

“Yeah, I can tell.” she smiled, seeing him raise an eyebrow but not taking his eyes off her. “I mean, not literally!”

Y/N tried to keep her attention focused on her friends' conversation but it was so hard when all she wanted was to be in Yuta's arms again, she didn't understand why she felt like she was in withdrawal but it was exactly what she needed at that moment. Him holding her and not letting go.

She wanted to be discreet, not stare at the boy like she was a maniac, but it was practically impossible. Especially when his long, windblown hair was attracting her attention, it wasn't fair for a person to have a jaw as well shaped as his.

Or how his lips puckered up every time he spoke, Y/N couldn't help but get lost in that movement and when Yuta turned to face her as if questioning something, she realized she was too far away to know what he said.

"What do you think?" he asked and she blinked a few times, glancing at her friends who seemed to be waiting for her answer.

"Huh?"

“Jaehyun said he forgot his camera at the house and you said you were going to get a sweatshirt, I can go with you.” Yuta spoke with such confidence that Y/N was left searching in her own mind when it was that she had said that.

Of course, it was getting colder as the night wore on but she hadn't said anything about going back to the house.

However, when she saw that Yuta was looking at her suggestively, she understood what he was trying to do.

Ah, of course, the beach getaway.

"Yes! I said." she nodded and Yuta's smile widened.

"Then we'll be right back." he warned their friends and held out his hands to help Y/N up, she looked at them first, finding them laughing and shook her head before grabbing Yuta's hands and being pulled up.

We'll be back in two hours, was what she wanted to say, but by the way their friends were silent she knew they were probably suspicious.

Y/N felt her whole body tremble with anxiety and expected Yuta to grab her right there on the street, because that was exactly what she wanted, but to her surprise and also frustration, he just walked beside her, arms brushing against each other sometimes.

When they arrived at the house, she sighed softly, apparently the only one who was horny there was her. Yuta gave her space to go ahead and she did, dejectedly.

However, even before she could go to the bedroom to get the sweatshirt, Yuta's hand quickly went to the back of her neck bringing her closer and in a quick movement their lips were glued together.

Y/N felt her whole body give in to Yuta's thirsty mouth who didn't wait to deepen the kiss, opening enough for his tongue to touch Y/N's lips. She sighed, bringing her hands to his face, and gave herself completely satiating her will as well as his.

His large hand was still firmly gripping her neck and Y/N felt every hair on her body rise from the warm palm.

“I've waited a long time to do this.” he spoke against her lips, and she smiled widely.

“And why did you take so long?” she questioned but before he could answer, his other hand went to her waist and pulled her against his chest.

Now there was no longer any distance separating the bodies and a faster kiss started the fire that rose all over Y/N's skin, making her take one of her hands to Yuta's long strands and holding it firmly.

As the tongues danced in a single rhythm, sensual and fast, Yuta walked forward and he directed Y/N, who didn't care where he took her. She didn't want to lose her attention over small details, all she wanted was to keep kissing him until she lost her breath completely.

And that's what she did, when they reached the couch, Yuta directed his kisses to Y/N's cheek and neck, making her continue stroking his hair. When he bit down lightly on her skin, Y/N put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him to sit on the couch.

He did, smiling widely as he saw her position herself to sit on his lap, his hands went to her waist and Y/N brought hers to his face to resume another kiss.

They kissed passionately, as if they'd gone months and months without physical contact, but that's how they felt. As if it had been a decade before they were in each other's arms.

Yuta's hands found the end of Y/N's dress and began to move up Y/N's thighs, and she parted her lips to moan softly.

"Be mine." he asked and she opened her eyes, finding an intensity even greater than she'd ever known.

Although she wanted to reply that she was already his, she didn't know what to say, so she caressed his cheek.

"What are you trying to say?"

“No more parties, no more making out in corners. Be mine, officially.”

Y/N felt her heart beat even faster, as if Yuta's kisses weren't enough his words would make her faint, so he held her by the waist with one hand and caressed her so softly that it made her soften even more .

She stared into his eyes, trying to see any signs of doubt but finding none.

“I would run away with you anywhere.” she replied and Yuta smiled again, making her heart warm. “You just take me there.”

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doomingthenarrative · 10 months

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FOR ZELINJ INJURY PROMPTY i can barely choose

the get well flowers one is soooo. if one of them gets sick everyone they know is going to know about it especially now that the lucky clover gazette exists) cards and flowers and ingredients piled so high they block the door to the hateno house LMAO

speaking of ingredients. soup. always brainrotting over link learning to be an excellent cook during botw (because he’s cooking all of his own meals and because he resents uniform unseasoned knight rations LMAO) and cooking for zelda <333 also teaching her what he knows so she can cook for herself too. i think she feels a bit uncomfortable being waited on now. but if she’s injured/sick and HAS to accept links doting on her..

also this is not related to injury prompt but i think they are both really excited about tomatoes becoming widespread. link from a culinary and utilitarian angle and zelda geeking out about the historical significance <3

zelda had never quite understood get well soon flowers.

she had grown up in the castle, after all. if she got sick, her father made sure that she did get well soon. all the best medics were called, and she was often disallowed to exit her room. impa would occasionally be sent to look after her when she was meant to be sleeping, and every time without fail brought some sort of board game to keep zelda’s mind from exploding.

sometimes, at least.

zelda understood her father’s irrational fears, as much as they frustrated her. her mother died young, after all, after long and vicious bouts of sickness. zelda was well taken care of, and her ilness kept a quiet secret among the castle staff, lest the people of hyrule think her weak.

(but really, would they think her weak for catching a simple cold?)

she expected much of the same when she caught some sort of flu. it started off that way, at least. link constantly fret, whether hovering over her or sitting in the corner, worry radiating off of him like the sun on a summer day.

she didn’t like being able to command him. she and link were equals - in her mind at least - and she was no more worthy of being served than he was.

but then again, she could hardly lift a spoon to her mouth and force herself to down another bit of rice, so perhaps she needed to swallow her pride.

despite her reservations, link never once made her feel like a burden. he provided her with many of her old research novels to keep her busy, and sat by her side when she was too tired to read them.

it was nice. simple. everything zelda had wanted before going to the palace.

and then link made the mistake of letting it slip at the daily market that she was sick.

(zelda assumed penn had caused this; he was always buggering around for news about her, and link had been seen buying soup ingredients again and again)

then there was the constant knocking, the deliveries, the flowers stacked up so high outside their house that zelda could see them from the second story window. link was on constant alert, and although he had a tendency to win hearts, diplomacy wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

link opened the door once - a one time mistake - for a young child to show zelda the drawing he made. unfortunately, this lead to a stampede of children, all bringing flowers and drawings and then their parents arrived, and zelda was beginning to think that the onslaught would never end, that some of these people weren’t even from hateno, that the countless good luck notes and soups and flowers and crude drawings and heartfelt gifts and zelda felt her heart exploding, felt tears rising, felt the world around her fade into a swirl of color as she closed her eyes and finally slept.

when her eyes finally opened, link was struggling to get through a battlefield of flowers. he tilted his head at her slightly, a grin rising to his lips. zelda giggled. “of course i can see you, silly; there aren’t that many flowers.”

link waggled his brows at her, and plopped the soup in her lap. zelda’s heart swelled as he sat at the foot of her bed, holding his own soup.

maybe she didn’t need a palace. maybe this was enough.

ok soooo i didn’t write abt tomatoes BUT i absolutely agree i think link would be trying all these new dishes while listening to zelda excitedly talk abt what this means for hyrule etc etc. zelda being a nerd and link getting to make delicious new food. truly a win win

#saiph scribbles #zelink #legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #the legend of zelda #totk #loz #not rlly totk spoilers. buttttt #my writing #asks #dudelynxx #beloved wife #SOO many tags #anyway i hope you enjoyed the writing<3

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sammysvanfeet · 1 year

Text

Maroon - Sam Kiszka/Reader

Synopsis: Sam and Y/N are best friends. After a night of drinking wine, things escalate between them. Some lines cannot be uncrossed. (It's a little angsty besties!!!!)

Please let me know if there is an issue with dark mode and I'll get it fixed asap <3

Word count: 4.7k

*WARNINGS*: MINORS DNI!!! alcohol use, swearing, unprotected sex

A room never felt full without Sam Kiszka in it. His personality and infectious energy could brighten even the most desolate of spaces. I felt his presence before I saw him, heard his boisterous laugh reverberate through the rented out restaurant where I currently found myself observing from the sidelines. The band’s label were having some kind of party, with all the hot shots and powerful people in the music industry. I wasn’t really a fan of things like this, rubbing elbows and making connections. I usually preferred to be more of a homebody, but when Sam had asked me to be his date tonight I had jumped at the chance. ‘Platonically’ he’d reminded me, on more than one occasion.

I smoothed out the wrinkles of my maroon dress, hoping he’d notice the effort I’d put into my outfit tonight. After all, I was accompanying a Kiszka – I had to look good. He made his rounds first before coming to find me, greeting friends and strangers alike with warm smiles and firm handshakes. He looked good, despite wearing the most simple of clothes – an all black tailored ensemble that was just casual enough to get away with in a place like this. I studied his face as he made conversation, noting the tick in his jaw when he heard something he didn't like and the telltale smirk he tried to hide when he heard something he approved of. See, I could always tell how Sam was feeling, often before he even knew it himself. I knew when he was mad or scared and I knew when he was filled with joy as he so often was.

I watched as his expression changed once he had finally been left alone, but it wasn’t one of relief as I’d expected. No, this one was new. His eyes twinkled, his smile was wide but there was a hint of nervousness there. I saw the way he turned around slowly and scanned the crowded room. He was looking for someone and I was certain it wasn’t me. As much as I wanted to deny what was right in front of me, I couldn’t. He was looking for a girl.

The pit in my stomach opened wide and I wanted nothing more in this moment than for it to swallow me whole. I wanted to disappear into nothingness, anything was better than this again. I was always by his side, his faithful friend but he never saw me as anything else. Before I could even consider an Irish goodbye, his eyes found mine and he smiled fondly to cover up his disappointment… it was warm and familiar, the way best friends smile at each other. I almost think that was worse.

“There you are, Princess!” He exclaimed, bouncing over to me and enveloping me in one of his famous bear hugs.

“Oh, were you looking for me?” I questioned, knowing full well he wasn’t.

“Of course! Who else would I be looking for?” He responded nonchalantly, twisting the knife inside my gut further.

I simply scoffed and gave him a roll of my eyes, “You tell me.”

“You look great, by the way.” He changed the subject by gesturing to the silk mini dress I was wearing. The one I’d bought with him in mind, hoping it would be enough for him to look at me differently, to look at me with hunger and desire and not like a little sister. It wasn’t working, yet the blood still rushed to my cheeks, flushing red and betraying me.

I bit down on my tongue hard enough to draw blood, I didn’t want to sound bitter, I didn’t want to spew all the toxic anger I felt brewing inside of me. This was Sam, my happy go lucky best friend. I had to plaster on my biggest, fakest smile and act happy for him.

“Soooo… who is she?” I elbowed him playfully.

He looked at me shocked then, clearly believing he was much more inconspicuous than he truly was. His expression faltered for a moment and I knew he was considering lying to me. Maybe he knew how I felt and wanted to spare my feelings. Either way, he thought better of it and scratched his chin sheepishly, a nervous tick of his.

“Her name is Scarlet.” He relented. “She’s over there - auburn hair, black dress, great tits.”

“Samuel!” I scolded, slapping him in the chest. He wasn’t wrong though. I quickly located the smoke show he was lusting after. She was beautiful. It would have been a lot easier on me if she wasn’t, but that was Sam’s type, I had come to learn. His conquests were leggy and gorgeous - talented musicians or Instagram models, it depended on the week. He had a tendency of getting bored but luckily for him he had a rolodex full of girls he could call up when he wanted a quick fuck.

“You’re my date, not her. I can hit her up after this is over.”

“Gee, thanks. Way to make me feel special.”

“Oh come on, you know you’re my best girl, don’t you?”

“Mhm.” I waved him off, “Why don’t you go talk to her? I can come find you later. I’m starving and the buffet looks to die for.”

I watched as he sauntered off, slinking up behind her and resting his hand on her hip. She looked up at him as he towered over her and smiled so sickly sweet that it made me gag. I wanted to slap that stupid smile right off of her surgically enhanced face. I was certain that I was green with envy right now and I’m sure everyone who looked my way could see it, too.

Spinning on my heel in disgust, I made my way to the buffet table to peruse the options. They all looked incredible but my appetite was currently nonexistent. I pretended to consider the choices in front of me, sparing a glance to Sam and his bimbo every now and then, torturing myself even more.

“You’re not very good at hiding your feelings, you know that?”

“Shit!” I clawed at my chest, stilling my racing heart. “Jake, you scared me!”

He chuckled at me, before beginning to pile his plate high with an assortment of fancy hor d'oeuvres… mini quiches and galletes, steak crostinis and deviled eggs.

“You’re a glutton, you know that.” I teased, nodding to his plate. Jake always had a way of making me feel comfortable, in a way Sam couldn’t – despite being my best friend’s older brother.

“Being this talented and sexy works up an appetite.” He winked, “So when are you going to tell Sammy boy how you feel about him?”

I sent daggers his way, hoping I looked intimidating but Jake continued to laugh at my expense.

“He doesn’t feel that way about me.” I whispered, sparing a glance in Sam’s direction, afraid he suddenly developed supersonic hearing.

“Mmm, so what’s your plan? Spend the rest of your life being strung along by him?”

“Stop.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. Just know you deserve so much better than how he treats you – how he treats any woman. You deserve someone who gives you the world.” He spoke with such tenderness that it surprised me, before realizing his vulnerability. He held his free hand up and began to walk backwards, “But if you ever want to know what it’s like to be with a real man, you know where to find me.” He said, teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes, “Thank you, Jake.”

“Any time. I mean it… Princess.” He teased before disappearing completely into the crowded room.

Alone with my thoughts once again, I decide to have a liquid dinner instead and approach the bar to order a glass of Cabernet. I told myself that I was going to nurse this drink but left to my own devices one quickly turned into four and I found that I was actually comfortable enough to make small talk with the bartender. He was surprisingly quite funny and had me giggling in no time. His blue eyes widened in surprise every time one of his jokes landed and I found it kind of adorable. His hair was much too blonde and too short than the guys I usually went for, but I found myself enjoying his company so when he asked for my number and handed me a pen and cocktail napkin, I started scrawling my number without hesitation. I then folded it gently and placed a delicate kiss to the outside, leaving a lipstick print in the same color that painted my lips — “Hail Cherry”.

“What do you think you're doing?” Sam questioned from over my shoulder.

I squealed in surprise before bursting into a fit of drunken giggles, “Sammy!! Where have you been?”

“Uh, nowhere. I’m kind of over this party. Do you wanna come home with me?” He ran his hand through his hair, he was feeling impatient. I smiled to myself, feeling giddy at the thought that he just wanted to be with me alone.

The bartender interjected, “Hey man, she’s had a bit to drink, I don’t think you should be asking her to go home with you.”

“Hey buddy. For the record, she’s my best friend. If she’s had that much to drink, do you really think you should be getting her number?”

Is it me or did he sound jealous? I smiled to myself as he reached for my hand and led me through the crowd. I felt dizzy with excitement, his hand felt warm and at home in my own and I never wanted him to let go. As we exited the restaurant, the chill of the evening temperatures nipped at my exposed skin. He shed his blazer and wrapped me up in it without me even asking. I reached for his hand again and he didn't resist, instead he squeezed my hand affirmingly and led me to his Tesla, opening the door for me and guiding me in. I felt a funny feeling in my tummy, butterflies were fluttering and I felt nerves and excitement bubbling up.

He adjusted the radio, Fleet Foxes played in the background as he expertly weaved through traffic on the streets of East Nashville. I spent much of the short drive with my head turned towards him, resting on the head rest as I gazed in admiration. I’d usually be embarrassed to stare but the wine had my inhibitions thrown to the wind and I drank in the beautiful man in front of me.

“What are you staring at?” He teased.

“You.” I simply responded, voice low and sultry.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m tipsy!” I said defensively.

“Hi Tipsy, I’m Sam.”

I groaned, “That was terrible. I hate your Dad jokes.” That wasn’t exactly true, I had grown quite fond of them but he didn’t need to know that.

He snickered and turned up the music, bopping his head along in time. Once we’d arrived at his house, he came over to the passenger side to hold open my door, waiting patiently as I fiddled with the seat buckle. I took his awaiting hand as he led me to his front door — was he holding my hand so I wouldn’t stumble or because he missed how our fingers slotted together?

Not even five seconds after the door had swung open, the sound of four paws pitter-pattering approached us. “Rosieeee!” I squealed, crouching down to the floor to pet the Pitbull. She licked my face enthusiastically.

“Were you good for me, Rose?” Sam scratched the back of her head before wandering further into the house, heading for the wine rack in his dining room.

“What do you have in there?” I questioned, nosily.

“I have some reds, a white or two and a rosé. It’s not chilled though.”

“Hmmm, give me the rosé.”

“The whole bottle?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yes. I’m not saying I’m gonna finish it but I want it to myself!”

He scoffed playfully, “Well that’s fine because I wanted this Merlot anyway. Much more dignified.”

It was my turn to scoff at him now. I made my way to his living room while he poured our wine and I selected a record to put on while I waited for him. James Bay’s voice crooning filled the room, traveling down the halls to the kitchen where Sam searched for wine glasses. I smiled at how domestic and romantic it felt. I decided to go through the little basket of incense next to his vinyl shelf when Rose came curiously sniffing up beside me.

“Which one do you think?” I waited for her to peruse the options, “Dragon’s Blood? Good choice.”

I placed the lit incense stick into the custom wooden holder, before catching my slightly disheveled reflection in the oversized accent mirror. I quickly wiped up my running mascara and smoothed down my hair, hoping to have made myself a little more presentable.

“I come bearing wine!” Sam announced before sniffing dramatically, “Is that Dragon’s Blood?”

I nodded, smiling, “Rose picked it.”

He set down the full glasses and our respective bottles on the coffee table behind me, before handing me my rosé. Sam sat himself down on the floor, scooting closer to me, before clinking the two of our drinks together to ‘cheers’. The music provided the perfect ambiance as we sipped our wine and enjoyed each other’s company. I hummed along as ‘Wild Love’ began to play, the lyrics hitting me right in my heart.

I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down. I wanna take you high up, let our hearts be the only sound. I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine. I wanna give you wild love.

“Of course you would like a cheesy song like this.” Sam scoffed.

I pouted, a little stung by his words, “I love this song.”

❋ ❋ ❋

The smoke from the incense curled and wafted throughout the room, making everything appear to be hazy. The bottles got lighter and the more glasses we had drunk, the louder we got. At some point, the record needed to be flipped but the music was long forgotten and now it was just our giggles and playful banter filling the room. Luckily Rose had padded off to her crate at some point, too tired of us keeping her awake.

“…So then I threw the drink at him!” I gestured wildly, reenacting a story I’d trailed off from several times at that point.

“There’s no way! You’re too nice for that”

“Oh Sammy boy.” I giggled, “There’s a side to me you haven’t seen.”

He smirked, eyes darkening, “There’s a lot of you I haven’t seen.”

I gulped, feeling the tension in the room get thick. He licked his lips and trailed his eyes down my body unapologetically. He reached out so slowly to run his fingers up my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, until he got to the thin strap holding my dress up at my shoulder and carefully guided it down. I inhaled a shaky breath but I didn’t stop him as those deft fingers traveled along my collar bone to the other strap, nudging it gently until the fabric of my dress had fallen and was now pooling around my waist. I shyly covered my exposed chest, momentarily regretting not wearing a bra.

“Don’t hide from me, Princess.” His voice was husky, “I want to see all of you.”

He leaned in slowly, cradling my cheek and looking from my eyes to my lips — silently asking for permission. I nodded once before his lips were connected with mine. The kiss felt different than I had imagined, it was messy and hungry, not soft and sweet. But I wanted him, oh how I wanted him. His tongue begged for entrance and I let him in, feeling dizzy at the way our mouths danced as they got acquainted with one another. We kissed and kissed for what felt like an eternity, but it would never be long enough for me.

I pull away to breathe, lungs burning, “I think we might be making a mistake.” I said, but my head was swimming and my pulse was racing. I wanted this so bad.

“That’s a problem for tomorrow.” He whispered, before crashing his lips into mine.

Once again our bodies had connected and I didn't even register the words he had just said to me. He guided me back onto his floor, just a thin antique rug separating me from the cold hardwood but I couldn’t have cared less. He climbed over me, hands grabbing everywhere as he clumsily pulled my dress down my thighs, too impatient or too intoxicated to remove it in its entirety. My lace panties soon followed, part of me hoped he would comment on them, how pretty they looked on me, but he was too wrapped up in lust and I couldn’t blame him. I just needed to feel him inside of me.

I reached out to untie his belt, struggling to unknot the white shoelace he so often used to hold up his pants. A few more failed attempts and he was tugging his pants and boxer briefs down and around his knees.

“Wow.” I exhaled nervously, taking in his hard cock before me. I wasn’t sure what I had expected it to look like. He was groomed enough, an average size but nothing to marvel at.

“I’m going to make you feel good.” He cooed, placing a chaste kiss to my lips as he lined himself up and plunged inside of me.

It burned and stretched me in a way that took me by surprise, but I felt full and wanted. He began to move, thrusting deeply as he kissed and sucked little burgundy marks on my neck.

“You’re squeezing me so tight.” He grunted out. “I’ve always wondered what it felt like to be inside of you.”

“You have?” I questioned softly, tears pricking at my eyes from his words. He didn’t respond, his hips didn’t falter, he just moaned softly against the shell of my ear. The sound was so uninhibited, so intimate that it had me clenching around him, a silent encouragement for him to keep going.

The rhythmic slapping of skin on skin, so wet and loud, almost concealed our breathy moans and desperate whimpers. Sam was moving faster now, hitting a spot inside of me that I didn’t even know existed. My hips rocked into him, meeting each and every one of his thrusts, fucking him in return as I clawed at his back, nails digging deeply into his flesh. I felt the way his muscles rippled, how his shoulders flexed under the weight of holding himself above me. I wanted to leave marks, I wanted everyone to know what we had done together. I wanted to claim him as mine.

“Do you wanna turn around, baby?” Sam whispered between nips to my jaw, but all I wanted was for him to gaze into my eyes as we reached our peaks. “Get on all fours and present that pretty ass for me?”

“Mhmmm.” I mumbled in response, gently pushing him off of me so I could turn over.

I climbed up onto my hands and knees when Sam reached out to touch me. I held my breath as I anticipated his hands grabbing my hips or even spanking my ass, but instead he began to caress my back gently, his touch so tender and soft that it made my heart swell. “Your back is all red and raw, you must have got rug burn. Why didn’t you tell me it hurt?” Oh. That’s why he was being so delicate with me now.

I peered back over my shoulder, watching his fingers trace the splotchy marks, “I guess I just didn’t feel it.”

“And I guess I was just fucking you too good.” He smirked.

“I guess so.” I whispered, turning my head back around as he slid back inside of me. His hands immediately found purchase on my hips and gripped hard enough to leave marks, he pulled me against him, fucking me roughly. I screwed my eyes closed as he pounded into me harshly, my neglected clit was throbbing and begging for his touch but it never came. I snaked my own hand down between my legs and began to circle my aching bud, wondering whether or not Sam would even notice.

“God, that’s fucking hot.” He choked out.

My eyes flew open, how did he know I was touching myself? That’s when I remembered the mirror that sat against his wall, I tried to find his gaze in the reflection but he wasn’t looking at my face. He was watching his cock slide in and out of me, he was watching my tits bounce – hell he was even watching my hand move. But he wasn’t really looking at me.

“Are you close?” He grunted out.

“Yes.” I lied.

“Cum for me.” He instructed. And then I did what I never imagined I’d have to do. With the man I thought I was in love with still inside of me, I opened my mouth and moaned, fake and exaggerated which only served to spur him on. He still refused to meet my eyes, but I felt him pull out and I watched in the mirror as he jerked himself off onto my back, the wet sticky sensation soon following.

I lowered myself down onto the floor, laying on my stomach with my eyes closed, trying to process what had just happened. My head was still swimming from the wine and the adrenaline.

I heard Sam shuffling around, presumably redressing before he left the room momentarily, returning with a small towel. “Umm, this is for… you know.” He gestured to his cum that had started to drip off of me and onto his fancy rug. I hate that rug.

“Thanks.” I took the towel and wiped myself clean, feeling so meek and confused, before pulling my underwear and dress back up.

“Uhh, it’s late. I can take the couch if you want.” He offered, awkwardly.

“I don’t mind sharing your bed.” I said, meekly.

“Okay. That’s fine. I’m too tired for round two right now, though.” He joked, exiting the room without inviting me to follow.

I padded down his hallway, stopping to use the bathroom and finish cleaning myself up. The house was quiet as I headed for Sam’s room, hoping he had had the courtesy to set out a t-shirt for me to change into. He hadn’t. He was already snoring, soundly asleep.

I climbed under the covers, still in my dress and scooted in closer to his warm body. I let myself pretend for a moment that we were sharing his bed because he wanted to, because he loved me and not because he thought it was the polite thing to do after a drunken fuck. I lay in the dark, staring into nothingness with a pit in my stomach. Something about this moment felt monumental, but it didn’t feel like the start of something new – it felt like the end. My chest hurt as I felt overcome with emotion, but the wine still flowing in my veins numbed the pain a little bit, and for that I was thankful. I began to feel tired, my eyes fluttered closed as I focused on the steady sound of Sam’s snores and I let it lull me into a deep sleep.

❋ ❋ ❋

The early morning light began to stream through the window, the curtains were still open. We had been too intoxicated to close them the night before. I sat up carefully, bracing my fragile body. My head was pounding and I felt an ache between my thighs. I definitely had way too much to drink.

“How did I end up in your bed?” I looked around the unfamiliar surroundings, utterly confused. But there was no response, Sam’s side of the bed was empty.

I slipped out of his room, listening for any sign of Sam. I could hear a muffled voice coming from somewhere, coupled with the smell of freshly brewed coffee, which guided me into his kitchen.

“It didn’t mean anything–” He whispered, holding his phone to his ear.

“Sam?” I called out, confused.

“Oh shit. Hey.” He responded, looking guilty. “I gotta go, I’ll call later.” He said to the person on the other end of the phone before disconnecting the call.

“Who was that?”

“Oh… uh, Jake.” His eyes were shifty, unable to stay focused. He wasn’t being truthful. Suddenly the memories of the night before came crashing back, taking me out like a tidal wave.

“Oh my god. We had sex last night.” I felt the color drain from my face. My stomach lurched, from the hangover or the regret, I do not know.

“It was a mistake.” He responded.

I closed my eyes and inhaled a shaky breath, willing myself not to cry in front of him. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep the tears at bay and suddenly the dam burst, hot tears streaming down my face as I began to sob. I couldn’t even look at him, I felt angry and disgusted and utterly heart broken.

“Why did you go through with it if it’s not what you wanted?” I sobbed. “Why did you leave with me, Sam? Is it because you really would have rather been with me?” I begged, but he only looked at me with such pity, a look I never wanted to see from him. “Tell me the truth!”

“Scarlet had other plans, she left with someone else.” He whispered, a single tear of guilt falling down his cheek.

“Oh my god.” I backed away from him, pushing off of the kitchen counter, “Are you serious? How could you not tell me the truth? Is that who you were on the phone with just now?”

“I, I was sad and I was lonely and I really did just want to be with you but you were here and you wanted it too, Y/N.” He said, almost too defensively.

I laughed darkly, a stark contrast to the streaming tears that were forming a small puddle on the floor, “I can’t believe you. I have watched you play dozens of women but I was truly a fool to think that you wouldn’t have played me.”

“No, it’s not like that. You’re my best friend. I love you.”

“Don’t!” I spat. “Don’t say those fucking words to me.”

“But it’s true. You’re the most important person in my life.”

“Not anymore.” I seethed.

“What?”

“Sam, I can’t do this. I can’t watch you be with anyone else. You know how I feel, and I know you use that to your advantage so that I’m always there for you whenever you need me. I can’t do this, I can’t love you like a friend and I sure as hell don’t want to love you as anything more than that.”

“Please don’t leave me.” He was sobbing now too and if I believed it, I’d say he was almost as devastated as I was. “I need you.”

“Just not in the way I want to be needed.”

I watched him as he trembled, he tugged at his unkempt hair and smoothed out the wrinkles in his clothes. I’d always looked at him like he’d put the stars in the sky but as I took him in now, it was like I was seeing him for who he really, truly was. This wasn’t my Sam, this was someone else entirely. I slowly rose to my feet, moving to collect my belongings as he begged and pleaded with me to stay, imploring my forgiveness but I could not settle any longer. I deserved better.

I began to head to the door, not before stopping briefly to pet sweet Rose who tilted her head in confusion at all of the chaos.

“Be good, sweet girl..” I said as I kissed her head and gave her what would be her final scratches. I didn’t look back at Sam for fear I would reconsider, that I would break down and forgive him. No, this time I held my head high and looked anywhere but his eyes before leaving him with these final words, “This is goodbye, Sam.”

TAG LIST: @celestialfauna @streamsofstardust @doodle417 @theweightofjake @turtleskane @morganic-goods @loofypoofy @jakeslovehandles @emsgvf @jakeyboiiiiiii @way-to-go-lad @fleet-prodigy @age-of-nyahh @gvfrry @greta-flanveet @jakekiszkasguitarpick @kdarling1 @theweightofstardust @mintysammykiszka @lvnterninthenight @jakesgrapejuice @thecoldwind @brokenbellz @myownparadise96 @loveisonaroll @joshkiszkas

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chaldeanu · 14 days

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Scandalous, purely scandalous - and yet not an ounce of care given by the Duke when he’s balls deep in his pretty darling behind a box of crates somewhere within the Fortress. A calloused hand is clasped over your mouth to muffle the soft moans he’d drink up like his favourite tea any other day but he simply can’t risk getting caught by anyone right now.

Your eyes roll back when he sharply thrusts upwards, your legs hooked around his hips while he holds you up against the wall. Your sundress is bunched up to your waist, exposing your sensitive bundle of nerves to the cold air of the world but what did you expect? Wearing something just sultry, so revealing in front of everyone? Wriothesley could almost see your nipples through the thin fabric.

Your excuse had been how “hot” it was on the surface but you knew damn well how cold it was in the Fortress outside of the production zone. Wriothesley knew you were lying, quite literally hoping from some reaction from the otherwise composed man. It worked, of course it worked when he dragged you behind the pile of crates, giving you the tiniest bit of privacy before he hitched you up against the wall and slapped the head of his cock against your clit.

You didn’t expect it to work enough for his thick fingers to hook your panties to the side just enough for his fat cock to slowly pierce into your wet warmth, your walls squeezing down on him at the mere thought of being caught in such an act with the Duke of the Fortress himself.

Wriothesley’s teeth nip at the skin of your neck, leaving another blossoming purple flower to the array of a bouquet on your skin as he lets out a shallow grunt in the crook. Dark hair brushes against your cheek, the pads of fingertips pressing into your cheek when he applies just a little more force with the hand across your mouth.

“Keep quiet, sweetheart,” Wriothesley cooes, gentle enough to press a kiss over the newest bite mark he’d so happily left on his precious wife. His hips buck forward just to tease you, drawing a muffled squeal from you and he can practically feel you pouting under his hand, “unless you want them to see what a filthy mess you are for me?”

- 🪭

asdfghjkl i’m gonna cry i need this man so badly ଘ(*. .) i’m gonna chew on him he’s such a treat aaaaaah i want to show him my tits lmao the dress is so thin FOR A REASON

THIS IS SO HOOOOOT ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ his hand on my mouth??? i would lick every single one of his fingers fffucuccck and bite the side of his palm. what a hypocrite!!! being whiny is bad but leaving so many love bites for everyone to see is not?! unless he plans to hide me in his coat, then i can agree to that.

genuinely my dumbass would forget to take warmer clothes to the fortress, maybe hoping to get some from him, but ohhh look now i pulled the trigger :( the consequences of my own actions is being fucked silly. please (｡ >\\<)

nonnie (i know who you are, expect revenge) you’re sooo good at writing??? like, two previous gifts were already soooo delicious and well-written, i can’t get enough of reading them, but this one… i’m deceased! i struggled so hard to read this because i had to put my phone down every two sentences LOL

#anon ノ 🪭#anons ノ #thirsts ノ

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dingbatnix · 1 year

Text

Venture

Chapter 1

Soooo, welcome to my brainchild! The most I've ever written for a singular story, yee. It's like fifty pages so far, and it lags my computer down so bad.

Anyway, I'm nowhere near finished with the whole story, I just have this and maybe the next chapter done (which I'll maybe post soon) so don't expect to see the full story anytime soon.

Also! This is a g/t story, buut this is just the first chapter, and it's just Dream for it. Soo yeah. I'm done. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Dream + Tommy reference

Word Count: 1,600 (exactly that! Isn't that cool?)

Warnings: Violence, death, blood, fighting, ect. (it sounds much worse than it really is, I promise.) ((Probably))

“There he is!”

The shout pulled Dream’s attention from the half-skinned rabbit in front of him, and he whirled around, just in time, to parry the downstroke of a sword with his hunting knife. The sword’s edge scraped along the short blade with a piercing shriek, making the assassin's ears ring. Dream twisted, shoving the sword to the side and sending his sudden assailant pitching forward with a startled cry. He sprang back, swapping his knife to his left hand and drawing his own sword with his right as four more people crashed through the dense forest foliage.

They had on light leather armor, and were grinning like the cat that had caught the canary. Two were equipped with shields, while the other two were only armed with long swords. One of the shield-men cackled viciously, tucking away a wildly spinning compass. Ah. They were hunters, then.

Dream stepped back another pace, warily raising his sword as the first man got his feet under him. The rest of them spread out, covering his sides.

One of the swordsmen muttered something to the compass-bearer, who’s grin wavered as his eyes danced up and down Dream’s obscenely tall form. He seemed to shiver before squaring his shoulders and stepping forward, shield raised and ready.

“They said the guy we were after was a borderline monster, but I didn’t think they meant it literally.” He pulled out a small short sword with a clumsy flourish, squeezing the hilt so tightly his knuckles went white. Dream’s eyes narrowed, ignoring the jab as he observed the similarly tense forms of the others. Five inexperienced hunters? Is that how much of a concern he was? He frowned. He’d have to fix that later. It wouldn’t do to have people start thinking he was getting complacent.

Dream widened his stance, relaxing his shoulders as the compass-bearer took another step closer. “They said we could bring him in dead or alive, boys, so let’s bring them a corpse!” With that, he lunged towards Dream, shield slung low and sword pointed rigidly forward.

Dream calmly stepped to the side of the quavering sword tip, then back into the man’s path, and brought his hunting knife in close. The man’s eyes widened, and he brought his shield up, too late, as Dream sunk his dagger into the unprotected flesh under his jaw. He gurgled wetly, bright blood bubbling from his gaping lips. Dream immediately dismissed him, yanking the knife free and whirling around to slash open the underarm of the man behind him. The swordsman, in the middle of performing an overhand strike, yelped and dropped his sword to clutch at his wound. Dream gave him no time to recover, instead using his momentum to thrust his sword through the man’s throat. He crumpled with a watery croak, his weight suddenly too much for his fawning legs. Dream let the body slide itself off of his blade and swiveled around to face the remaining three hunters.

The two swordsmen and single shieldsman paled significantly, shrinking back from the harsh gaze of his blood-spattered mask. Dream took a step forward, sword held out at an offensive angle and knife guarding readily in front of his chest.

One of the swordsmen drew closer to the shieldsman and whispered something into his ear. The second swordsman nodded fervently, eyeballing Dream’s overbearing form.

With a shaky nod, the shield-bearer took a deep, shuddery breath, then brandished his shield. The two swordsmen fell behind him as he advanced, blades bared sharply at Dream.

The assassin scoffed quietly and skipped forward, ducking under the two uncoordinated lunges of the swordsmen, into the space of the shield-bearer. His pupils pinpricked at the sudden invasion of his personal space, and he yanked his shield up to protect his face. Dream smoothly twisted around another sword swipe and launched himself against the man’s shield with a powerful kick, sending him tumbling back into the man behind him. They crashed to the ground with vicious curses, leaving their third companion to face Dream alone.

The man faltered, glancing uncertainly at his two downed partners. Dream took advantage of his distraction, lunging at him and burying his sword deeply into the thin leather protecting his stomach. The man let out a strangled yell, hands flying to the edges of the bloodstained blade. With a quiet huff, Dream yanked the blade free as he sank to his knees, inadvertently slicing open both of the man's palms.

A loud clatter from the right was all the warning Dream had before he was slammed into by a shield and knocked off of his feet. He landed harshly as the weight of the man wielding the shield crushed down on his body. He writhed as the shieldsman cried out triumphantly, calling to his remaining companion to help him finish Dream off. Dream wheezed painfully, jerking at his sword. No use. His sword arm was pinned across his stomach, squashed between the shield and his body.

Oh, wait. Dream blinked as the last swordsman stepped up near his head, weapon bared. He still had his knife! Dream twisted to the right, using his legs to help lift the heavy weight of the shieldsman and shield just a little. His right shoulder screamed at the awkward position, as well as his left hip, but, he managed to pry his left arm from where it had been pinched underneath his body.

Dream grinned with renewed confidence as the swordsman raised his blade above Dream’s head. Ignoring the slight ache from the angle, he whipped his arm around the edge of the shield and solidly buried the razor-sharp blade into armored flesh.

The shieldsman howled, instinctively flinching to the right, away from the thing that had hurt him. Dream used the opportunity, shoving up at the now lighter side of the shield. A glinting flash caught his eye, and he yanked his head back a split-second before the blade of a sword plunged into the mulchy ground.

Quickly, he wriggled his way out from under the shield and rolled to the side as an armored boot slammed into the ground where he just was. The swordsman cursed, awkwardly tugging his sword from the forest floor while Dream got his feet under him, gingerly rolling his right shoulder with a grimace.

Dream shot a quick glance at the shieldsman. The man was sprawled halfway off of his shield, wheezing wetly as one of his lungs slowly collapsed. His hunting knife still protruded from his ribs, and thick, sticky blood dribbled from his mouth. Dream dismissed him. The man was obviously out of commission.

He turned his attention back to the remaining swordsman, raising his gore-spattered sword to point it at his chest. The man quailed, the blood draining from his face as he realized he stood alone. He stumbled back one step, then another, before his resolve shattered. He turned tail and ran, leaving Dream to stand alone in the bloodstained field.

Dream scowled, watching the leaves swish back into place. Of course he’d ditch the fight. Nobody ever stuck around long enough for Dream to have a proper battle with. But, he supposed, he really shouldn’t be surprised at this point.

With a small sigh, he turned and marched over to the shieldsman, leaning down to retrieve his weapon. One harsh yank, and then his knife was free from the side of the still-choking man, who gurgled out a pained yelp. Dream frowned, watching him struggle to draw breath, then decided to take pity. With a quick slash of his knife, the man wheezed his last, then lay still. It would be unnecessarily cruel to leave him to drown in his own blood.

Dream wiped the blood from both of his blades on the deadman’s clothes and stood, sliding the knife into the sheath strapped to his right thigh and dropping his sword into the scabbard at his left hip. He glanced around for a moment before his eyes alit on the other shieldsman. He stalked over to the body and shoved at it with a booted foot, rolling it onto its back, then dropped to one knee and started rifling through it's pockets.

There was nothing particularly interesting, until his hand ghosted over a circular lump. With a triumphant hum, he dug the compass out from the pocket of the corpse and glared at the spinning dial. He never could figure out how the hell people managed to enchant these things to find him when he was halfway across the kingdom…Shrugging, he smashed the glass face against a protruding rock. He supposed it didn’t matter. None of the people who came after him could ever match his skill.

He dropped the shattered crumble of scrap, shaking a few shards of glass from his gloved palm, and propped his hand on his knee to push himself to a stand. With a sigh, he scanned over the carnage, ignoring the bodies, until his eyes passed over the rabbit he had been skinning earlier. He moved over to the small animal, casually hopping over the splayed bodies of the hunters, then paused when he got a better look at the carcass.

Dream scowled, glaring down at his half-skinned rabbit. Clumps of blood-soaked dirt clung to the exposed flesh, while a small army of ants had evidently claimed the carcass as their own.

He'd have to go hunt for something else, now.

…

Or he could find where the hunters' camp was, and take their stuff.

Dream smirked, immediately in better spirits, and span around, moving to shove through the forest foliage.

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #g/t #writing #g/t writing #not in this one but will be in the future #venture #giant!dream #im not sure how to tag this #since theres technically no g/t in this chapter #but whatever #look! the first potentially long-term story ive ever written!!!!#also im willing to answer questions if anyone has any?

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mochidreambubble · 11 months

Text

From Golden Grove, Love Sunset Bird

[ongoing fic]

Ao3 link

Chapters on Tumblr ~ 1 2 3 (you're here!) 4

previous - next

{Cove was your new best friend, but your fairy pen pal was also basically your best friend. It makes sense but not to Cove, but... But why is it he thinks you could only have one best friend anyways?}

[some notes from me before I continue, or you can just scroll down to the new chapter after the linebreak.

Comes back in here with a wedding pretzel and b/w ice cream sandwich like I didn’t leave this fic for months-

Few things of note going forward:

Due to OLNF clearly still being in progress, I’ve decided to do more of the first game for now. Though, for every B&A chapter out, in future, there will be the same number of NF POVs/Centric chapters.

It’s a little sad cause I wanted to do alternative POV chapters but that would just put this whole fic on hold instead (I do have one more OLNF chapter after this, but next time it will be unlikely)

I’ve also decided not to do a linear timeline, which I think is fine cause I’ll be labelling each chapter title with the step anyways? So maybe don't expect the next chapter for the respective MCs to be in the same or the next step cause I’ll likely just go back and forth on what I feel like writing to make it easier. Unless it’s a narrative thing I wanna follow up on.

(Also due to recent developments…. Maaaaaybe I won’t be sticking to Cove/MC, at least not straightforwardly)

And done, onward to the new chapter]

Three: Beginnings & Always Step 1 ~ “Nobody said I only could have 1 best friend”

You’d like to think you don’t get into fights that often. Maybe with Lizzie sometimes , which Mom and Ma always sat both of you down for cause siblings only had each other and you should talk things out.

But this was different. Cove was crying, which made you cry. You cried harder when he yelled that you weren’t friends anymore. What did you even do ?

You thought Cove and you got on pretty well over this summer. It was super great to have a kid your age for once, and one who didn’t move away once summer break was over. In fact, thanks to Cove, a lot had happened in just these few months alone. You barely had the time to write to your pen pal.

It made you feel kind of bad especially since, across the summer, you had at least 10 different postcards from them. Mom had left them in a neat pile and a colourful ribbon to make sure not a single postcard could go flying off. Which was silly because you’re sure postcards can’t fly.

You were waiting for Cove to come over. Ma promised to let both of you decorate the cupcakes she was baking, but only after you’ve both finished your weekend homework. It was criminal (were you using that phrase right?) that teachers gave soooo much homework. It was only the third week of the new school term too. It may have been cooler but you could still smell the summer spirit in the air.

Mr Holden said Cove would be there by 3pm on the dot. You think that means that Cove will be there on time?

You had your eyes glued to the clock in your room. But you got a little bored just looking at it, so you ended up reading the postcards your fairy friend sent instead. Their summer adventures back home were made up of carnivals (right in the middle of the city! Where did they have the space for that?) and two visits to the zoo. If not, they were spending time with their mother, on short trips to the nearest beach. There were a bunch of stickers. In fact, two postcards were mostly just stickers and a cute drawing smushed in there. Maybe they were wondering when you’d write something back…

There was one postcard scrawled with crayons that caught your eye. It was sent to you not long after the one you sent earlier in summer break.

Is your green friend smiling now? Cove? I wanted to send you candy to give to your new friend. Candy makes me happy.

Mama laughed when she read your letter. Mama says Cove’s papa is funny. Mama also said sometimes Mamas and Papas do funny things for us. Because we are their babies. But we are not babies anymore, I dunno why she says silly things like this.

You guess this maybe was the postcard that came with a small box of hard candies. Mom took one look at the postcard and gift and told you it was likely because these were harder to melt. It was a little sticky because of how hot it still was, you bet. But not a goopy mess.

With a quick glance at the clock, you decided you still had time. It was almost 3pm. There was totally time.

You took a piece of paper from your special drawer. It had all your sparkly pens and colour pencils. Most importantly, your pretty paper. Instead of white paper with lines, it was the colour of the sea with starfish and coral at the corners.

Hello little fairy!

Sorry I took so long to write to you. I had a lot of things to do this summer. Cove is a lot of fun, but he’s still not very smiley yet. But I think he is magic!!! Like for realsies!!!

You decided to start by telling the story of Cove and the Amazing Alexander. Not about how Cove’s balloon popped at the end though. It was still too sad…

You were only getting started when you heard Lizzie yell super loudly from downstairs that Cove was here. You jumped off the final two steps, touching down with a smack as your two feet landed. Mom yells out to be careful when she hears the telltale sound of what you just did.

“I’m okay!” You tell back, but you hear mom sigh. She worries about the silliest things for sure.

Cove was waiting for you, by himself, cause Lizzie had already joined Mom in the kitchen. You don’t think he waited all that long but you still felt kind of bad…

With a skip in your step, you went up to him just as he stood up, a smile on his face.

“Hi,” he greets you softly, fidgeting with his glasses.

It wasn’t all that cold yet, but he was already sporting a long-sleeved shirt. Maybe it was just cause it had been a while since he could, since he got his cast off recently.

“Heya Cove!” Part of you wanted to hug him, but Ma and Mom told you to still be extra careful even though he could finally get his cast off, so you made sure you smiled extra sparkly for him. “Thanks for coming over to help with the decorating!”

“Yeah, it sounded… Fun.”

You grab both his hands to give them an excited shake, but before you can lead him to the kitchen, your mom calls out from the island counter, cleaning up with Lizzie and helping dry some dishes.

“Not just yet kiddos, I’ve just put them in the oven, so it’ll be a while. How about you bring Cove up to your room, hm? I’ll call you two back down when they’re ready.”

“Yeah, I’m just helping mom cause she said I could lick the spoon for icing,” Lizzie says in her sing-song voice.

Mom makes a big show of clutching her chest. “Defeated by icing, oh Lizzie, you’re leaving your mom out to frost-”

Lizzie gives out a huff as she rolls her eyes and you giggle. “Sure thing, mom! C’mon Cove.”

He probably knows the way to your room by now, but you like holding his hand. Cove still takes the time to look around even though your room hasn’t changed since the last time he was here.

Well. Not exactly because he spots the difference right away.

“Postcards?”

Oh. Right. You spent all that time with Cove this summer, but you never really did tell him about your fairy pen pal, huh?

You pat a spot in your room for him to sit as you gather them up. “Mmhm, it’s from my friend in Chicago!”

Cove’s mouth forms an ‘O’ shape as you hand over the postcards. “How do you become friends with someone who lives far away?”

“We’re pen pals!” You say like it answers everything. Cove’s face tells you all you need to now - he was confused and your answer didn’t tell him anything, which meant he thought it was bad and unhelpful. So you grab another pile of postcards and short letters, plop down next to him and begin to explain.

Like how and why you started writing to them, who they were and details like they’re kind of like Shiloh in that they only lived with their mom, they were two years younger, they lived in the city and their home was kind of tiny, they liked doodling and collecting stickers…

Cove was already on the latest set of postcards as you add on, “And they’re my best friend!”

It was like a magic spell was cast and turned Cove to stone because he freezes entirely.

“...Cove?” You turn to look at them, small bubbles of panic rising.

“Your best friend?” He was whispering so softly, which didn’t help that he sounded like something was stuck in his throat. His eyebrows were slowly forming a frown.

“Y-yeah, but…. Cove, what’s wrong?”

“B-But you said we were best friends!” He stands up with a shout, causing you to jump up too with a shock.

You did kind of say that, when Cove asked if you were friends during the sleepover but…

He was already starting to cry which made your heart fast and loud.

“Of course you are Cove!”

“But you just said I wasn’t!”

“I didn’t say that!”

He tosses the postcard all over and stomps his foot. “Yes you did! You said your pen pal was your best friend!”

You looked at him confused and unsure, but find yourself yelling back. “Yeah! Both of you are my best friends!”

“No!” He shouts again, crossing his arms. “You can only have one best friend!”

And the two of you became stuck in a circle of yes, no and crying because all of it made you confused and upset. Why was he so mad about this?

It became so loud that Mom came up to see what was wrong. You ran over to hug and tried to explain. You’re not sure she understood you fully but she was nodding, at least. She must have called Mr Holden or something because by the time she brought both of you back downstairs still hiccuping the tears back, he had dropped in a little while later.

He looked between you and Cove, sat on opposite sides of the sofa. You didn’t even have the energy to greet him like usual, even when he smiled at you. Mom had pulled him aside and started to whisper to him. Mom handed him a tupperbox of cupcakes - Lizzie still decorated them as she watched you from the stool she was using to reach the high counter, glancing from Mom to you and Cove.

“C’mon Cove,” He came back over and ruffled his hair. He looked away when he realised you were watching which made you feel pain and you could feel the tears again. He gets up and follows Ciff out without any issue, and for the first time since Cove moved to Sunset Bird, he left without you saying ‘Goodbye’.

But who cares, he was being stupid. Why couldn’t he understand that you could have many precious best friends if you wanted?! Both of them were important to you after all…

And you try and explain that to Mom once Cove left, and to Ma again. If both of them could understand, why couldn’t Cove…

It had been a whole day since the fight with Cove, but you still felt upset. Not even dance practice felt fun…

Lizzie was even being nice to you, offering to play whatever game you picked once you got back. It’s things like this that make you really love her, even if Lizzie was bossy most of the time. But it still bothered you, even as you played with her, that by the time the sun was setting on a what should be a happy Sunday…

“Hey, where are you going?” Lizzie stands up just as you do, as you run back upstairs.

You were on a mission now, you decided as you grab a bunch of letters between you and your pen pal. You simply yell out as you swing the front door open that you’re going to the Holdens, your Mom yelling back Alright but you had to be back for dinner soon.

You knock with your free hand, the other squishing the small stack of paper to your body. Mr Holden opens the door with a surprise.

“Hiya Mr Holden, sorry about yesterday.”

“Oh, it’s alright. It seems like my boy made you quite upset too. But, are you here to-”

“See Cove? Yep, can I?”

You watch as Mr Holden thinks on it for a little while, then nods. “Of course, kiddo. Do you remember where Cove’s room is?”

You nod. This would be the second time you would have been there, the first was after the first day of school you had together with Cove. It was super lucky, the two of you were in the same class and your seats were side by side.

You thank Mr Holden and he heads back to the kitchen counter after he makes sure you were fully inside. You walk to Cove room door, taking a deep breath. The door opens before you even land a knock, Cove staring at you in surprise when he realised you were there.

You expected him to slam the door in your face. Lizzie does that to everyone when she’s mad…

But he just… Stands there, not even looking at you, his eyes staring right at the floor.

“Hey Cove,” you manage to say, but it was so soft that you weren’t sure about your plan anymore.

“Hi.”

Oh, at least he greeted you back, right?

“Um… So uh, I was wondering if I could come in for a bit.”

He doesn’t look up, instead shuffling back in. He left his room door open, so you walk in and close it after. You liked Cove’s room, even if it felt kind of empty at the moment. You were helping him add more to his shell collection.

Once you were both in there, standing a space apart, the silence came back. You take in another deep breath.

“Sorry!”

“ ‘m sorry.”

Huh?

Cove finally looks up at you, eyes filled with tears again. “Oh Cove, please don’t cry I’m-”

“I’m sorry,” he’s already crying but he repeats his apology again. “I still want us to be- Be friends!”

“Of course we’re still friends! Best friends even!”

“B-But-”

You take out some of the postcards from your other bestie and start to talk. “A-And you can be their best friend too! I sent them a letter at the start of summer and they sent me so many postcards and some of them were asking about you!”

He looks surprised and rubs at his eyes to stop the tears. “You told them about me?”

“Mmhm! I promise you, they’ll like you too! And we can all be best friends together so… So uh…”

You start to fumble and ramble, about how it should be fine to have more than one best friend anyways cause you should be allowed to make your own rules. And that whoever made that old rule was stupid because Cove and you could do anything you wanted to anyways!

“And you can help me write the next one too! I was gonna write about what I did this summer and you were there for almost all of it so…!!”

He nods at last, and the postcards and short letters go flying as you rush to hug him.

Mom looks at the rather thick envelope with a smile.

“You sure you got everything packed up in here, kids?”

You look to Cove and he gives a firm nod. “Yes… Uh, we made sure to read everything three times so we got everything.”

“The whooooole summer adventure,” you nod seriously, your hands together motion in a wide circle as you tell mom.

Mom laughs and ruffles both your heads, Cove ducking a little. Your mom promises to get it delivered and you grab onto Cove excitedly. You already can’t wait to hear back!

[last note from me this chapter: my friend 'weebnt_b' read through the new chapter but they're kind of not feeling too good, so if you see any mistakes, please let me know!

#cove holden #our life beginnings & always #my fic #my writing #our life now and forever #From Golden Grove Love Sunset Bird fic #We're still friends even if we're miles apart fic series

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