#its my tag for ocs shh

[yukiwrites]

Fire and Honesty

Thanks for the support and the boundless patience, @authordgaster! I had a blast writing this and I hope you like it!

Summary: Percy had been together with Byleth since they were children, after they met completely by chance. He had a fiery personality to contrast with Byleth's apathy, and that brought him a fair amount of trouble...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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Byleth had developed a liking for fishing from her father and mentor, Jeralt.

Ever since she was a young child, she liked to cast the hook and pass the time peacefully waiting for a bite in between training sessions. Jeralt would often be present with her, the both of them comfortable enough in their silence to spend hours beside each other without uttering a single word as they fished.

What Byleth never expected, however, was that she was going to end up fishing a boy out of the river one day.

She thought that the catch would be too much for her to handle as her fishing rod almost turned in on itself from the weight, but with Jeralt’s help, she managed to fish out the biggest catch of her life, quite literally: a boy a couple of years younger than her.

Confused at first, then startled, Byleth hurried to check for his pulse and breathing while Jeralt roared for one of the healers to come over.

The boy, sporting a bright red hair and quite a few wounds unbefitting of someone so young, woke up several hours later, amnesic and confused.

The first thing he saw was Byleth, who was holding his cold hand in hers.

“Big Sis…?” he mumbled in a confused fog, struggling to focus on the silhouette in front of him. Once he saw Byleth’s face, however, he squinted and shook his face. “No, you’re not…”

Byleth stood in silence waiting for him to get his bearings, but the boy never quite did.

“Wait, who are you? Where’s this?” he sat up quickly, feeling dizzy and nauseous. “Urk… what… happened to me.”

“I fished you out of the river,” Byleth said matter of factly. “How did you get there? Do you remember anything?”

Holding his aching head, the boy lowered his gaze. “I…” he didn’t even remember calling Byleth ‘big sister’ earlier either; perhaps that had been the last bit of his former self ebbing through his lips as his memory faded to oblivion, perhaps forever. “I don’t know. What’s going on?!”

“You’re fiery for someone as small as you, aren’t you, kid?” Jeralt walked in on that moment. “Maybe it’s the hair.”

The boy flinched, hiding behind Byleth’s shoulder as Jeralt approached. “Who’re you? What have you done to me?”

Jeralt snorted, glancing at Byleth as she shrugged and shook her head in response.

“My kid fished you outta the river. Before asking anything, did you thank her yet? If it weren’t for her, you’d be fish food by now.”

The boy widened his eyes. “I thought that was a joke,” he looked at the expressionless Byleth. Seeing no lie in her gaze, the boy lowered his in a humble bow. “I’m sorry I didn’t take you seriously… And thanks for saving me; I’m Percy.”

“So you do remember something,” Byleth commented.

“Oh!” Percy blinked. “Maybe that was all, though. My head hurts like hell.”

“Hah!” Jeralt scoffed. “What a potty-mouthed kid you hooked up, Byleth.”

Percy’s face flushed, but he kept a grumpy frown, hiding behind Byleth’s shoulder again. She placed one hand on his, shaking her head as if telling him not to mind Jeralt’s teasing.

“Dad, he doesn’t remember anything. Can we keep him?”

“What, is he a pet now, or something?” Jeralt sat on the bed, making it sink towards him. “Let the kid heal. Maybe he’ll remember something later.” He patted Byleth’s head. “You wouldn’t wanna keep him away from his family, right?”

Byleth looked down, introspective. “Hm…”

Jeralt knew that look, so he just shifted his attention to the puffed up stray cat of a kid behind her. “Percy, right? Don’t force yourself for now, just take it easy. We’re not leaving this place until we finish the job anyway, so you can stay until then.”

“Job?” Percy’s ears perked up, though he still warily kept himself behind Byleth.

“We’re mercenaries,” Byleth replied before Jeralt could.

“I am a mercenary,” he corrected, pointing his thumb at himself. “The kid’s here’s still a recruit,” he pointed to Byleth, then told her, “don’t be too hasty in putting yourself out there, kid. You’ve gotta train a lot more ‘till you’re useful.”

Byleth nodded, unfazed.

“Wow, you’re almost my age and you’re already training to be a mercenary? That’s cool…” Percy’s eyes sparkled as he looked at the pensive Byleth. Jeralt smiled at the scene, seriously taking Byleth’s earlier request into consideration.

For the next few days, Percy’s memory showed no sign of returning, even after his wounds were healed to an extent. Healing magic wasn’t all-powerful and even if it were, high-ranking Healing magic wasn’t really something Jeralt’s mercenaries knew how to do, so their first and subsequent aids on Percy’s wounds left much to be desired.

He was left with sequelae on his right arm, making him unable to properly hold a weapon for the rest of his life.

Far from being affected by it, however, Percy took it all in stride. He had no previous self to compare himself to, nor did he know what he specialized in before he lost his memories, so he considered himself to be a blank slate ready to be molded by training.

Since he was young and had to convalesce, he was unable to start training as early as he wanted, though Byleth sneaked in some practice with him after she was done with hers. She figured that since he couldn’t hold a weapon, he should just hit the enemies with his fist, so she taught him the basics of what she knew.

Days turned to weeks that turned to months, and Percy’s presence was no longer a novelty to the mercenaries — Jeralt had allowed him to join as an apprentice, finally stopping pretending not to know that Byleth had started training him behind everyone’s backs.

As the years passed, Percy realized he had a hidden power within himself — the power of a Crest. Since neither Jeralt nor any of the adults at the mercenary band cared much about Crests and what not, Percy asked Byleth to help him find out what kind of Crest that was.

It took a long time of visiting local libraries and talking with any available scholars around the cities they were stationed at, but eventually the pair narrowed down Percy’s Crest down to one: The Crest lost to history, the one that belonged to Ernest.

If Percy had been in an environment around people who were passionate about Crestology, just that discovery would be enough to warrant a lifetime of study. However, since they were only teens looking for the answer of a single question, they felt accomplished after knowing its name only.

Along with the power of the Crest, Percy realized he also had an affinity with Fire magic, though, again, since the mercenary band lacked mages or scholars, Percy had to teach himself how to use it. Eventually, he incorporated the fiery magic to the hand-to-hand combat he had been specializing in since childhood to effectively punch people with fire.

It was a very useful skill, especially in the hands of someone as hot-headed as Percy… or so he thought, anyway.

After stopping by Remire village to finish up a job, Jeralt’s mercenary band would bump into the ace of Berling’s Mercenaries, a purple-haired man called Shez, just as a trio of noble students were being attacked by a pack of bandits. As if Fate had willed it, Byleth, Percy, Shez and Jeralt fought back against the bandits led by Kostas and ended up saving the heirs to the Kingdom, to the Empire and to the Alliance in one fell swoop.

Since Byleth had grown into the vice-captain of the mercenary band, she took most of the credit for the tactics used in that battle, being ultimately invited to be a teacher at Garreg Mach Monastery, where the three heirs studied. Percy followed her with the ease of habit, enrolling into the school as a student alongside Shez, who would stay with them from thereafter.

Percy, despite his initial bluntness, was a man who was fiercely loyal to those he deemed worthy. He followed Byleth into the Black Eagles class and mingled with the students there without a single speck of care towards lineage or nobility.

He just cared about the person themselves and how they acted towards others in their own ways. 

Thus, he could not stand people to whom being a noble or being with a noble was above treating people decently, and he was not shy about voicing such thoughts either. Conversely, he got along well with people similar to him: loyal and/or honest. Honesty was a complex act, but Percy knew a kindred spirit when he saw one.

Perhaps that was why his first instinct was to run towards Bernadetta’s scream the moment he heard it when he was exiting the training ground with Shez.

“Percy? Hey!” Surprised by Percy’s sudden bolt, it took Shez a moment to run after him.

Percy ran at full speed towards the dorms — that was where Bernadetta would be without a doubt — as fire magic started to swirl around his fists.

He wasn’t one to think too much before acting. 

He saw Bernadetta as a small rodent who needed ultimate protection, and hearing her scream made all alarms inside his brain to sound off, shutting down any coherent thought before it was even created.

“Bernadetta!!” He yelled, his voice reaching her before he did.

“P-Percy! Help!!” the girl wailed, her voice struggling to come out.

Someone else’s voice gasped as if wronged, “w-what? Why’re you calling for help like that? Just come out here so we can talk!”

Seeing red, Percy sped up towards Bernadetta’s room, only to find a chaotic scene: the door had been smashed to pieces, and a long-haired blonde girl was manhandling Bernadetta at the door frame.

“Ingrid! What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?!” Percy held onto a pillar to brake his sprint, using the momentum to throw himself between the two girls. “Let her go!” He bellowed, his hands burning with fire magic as he gripped on one of Ingrid’s wrists.

“Ack- ouch! You’re burning me!” Ingrid flinched, letting go of Bernadetta so as to push Percy out of her way. “What’re you doing?!”

“Shut up! I’m the one asking the questions here, you crazy bitch!” Percy forced himself to stay between Bernadetta, who cowered back into her room, and Ingrid, who stepped back into the corridor as she held onto her burned wrist. “What d’you think you’re doing, breaking the kid’s door like that?! Is there a fire? Are you the fucking headmaster? No, even if you were the headmaster, what right do you have to destroy a peson’s fucking door like that?!” he yelled, louder and louder, filling the entire corridor with heated energy.

His hands were shining in a bright red — if one would touch them right now, they would certainly melt.

Filled with terror, but too certain in her point to back down, Ingrid shakily took a step forward. “I was doing it to help her! Staying cooped up in her room is not going to do anything good to her. She needs to get out, get some air, get some training; anything! Staying in there isn’t the answer!” Ingrid screamed back, getting more confident with each word she uttered.

Ingrid knew how it felt to want to run away from the world and stay under the covers for the rest of one’s life. She knew how that could end up.

So, she did what she thought was right: she was going to drag Bernadetta out of that room by force if it meant helping her see what was wrong with her.

“You’re fucking delusional.” Percy spat on the floor right beside Ingrid’s foot. He took a step forward to her, his hands already crackling with energy, but a shaky touch on his back made him stop.

“P-Percy…” Bernadetta sniffled behind him, shaking like a leaf.

That made him both calmer and angrier at the same time. He couldn’t see the logic of Ingrid’s train of thought, especially when he saw how frightened Bernadetta was; but he also wasn’t a complete moron enough to jeopardize his own position by attacking another student like that.

So, he managed to take a deep breath and calm himself.

Yet, he also shook with rage the longer he looked at the trembling Bernadetta and the unapologetic Ingrid.

“Fucking crazy,” he stomped out into the corridor, forcibly bumping into Ingrid, who lost her footing and collapsed on the floor in shock.

Shez arrived at that moment, seeing Percy leaving, taking the heated energy with him. There was only a cold corridor left in his wake.

“What the hell happened?!” Shez huffed. “Did Percy do this?” he pointed at the broken door, not putting it past Percy to do it, knowing him.

“N-no! He saved me,” Bernadetta cowered, running behind Shez. “He wasn’t the one who broke the door.”

Seeing the interaction and how Bernadetta’s terrified gaze landed on her, Ingrid started feeling that she perhaps had done something wrong. She shakily got to her feet. “She’s right, it wasn’t him. I did it.”

Shez widened his eyes in surprise, but the moment he looked at Ingrid to ask the reason why, he saw the burned bits of Ingrid’s sleeve. “Wait, you’re hurt! Was that—”

Ingrid hid her hand behind her back. “It was nothing.”

“Don’t give me that, you gotta—” The moment Shez was about to step towards her to take her to a healer, a loud explosion sounded on the second floor of the dormitory, right above them. “What the f—”

“Kyaaa!” Bernadetta ran back to her room, hiding beneath the covers as pieces of shattered glass showered the ground in front of the corridor.

Rubble and a large piece of broken wood fell on top of the glass. At closer inspection the piece of wood was nothing other than a door, much like the one Ingrid had destroyed just a few minutes previous.

From above them, behind the destroyed window frame of Ingrid’s room, Percy leaped out, landing on top of the ruined door. The shouting had already attracted a small gathering, but the explosion called a large group of people to huddle around and see what had happened.

Amidst the dust, smoke and his own flames, Percy looked like either a deity dealing diving punishment or a devil ready to drag Ingrid down to hell with him.

“You pull this stunt again with anyone and it’s gonna be you here next time,” he stomped on the door beneath his feet, making it crack and burn to ash. “You hear?”

Shaking, but not about to be intimidated, Ingrid stepped forward angrily.

“What right do you have to call me out like that? I was just trying to help a classmate.”

“Help my ass, lady! Look at how terrified she is! Is your concept of help skewed or something in that pretty head of yours? Do knights in your Kingdom drag people out of their rooms by force to help them ‘see the error of their ways’?! I bet the fuck not!” He pointed at her chest, pushing her out of his way so he could head back to Bernadetta’s room. “What you’ve done here was something a bully would do, not a knight. You preach about wanting to be a great knight or whatever and look at you now! Pulling a screaming girl out of her room just ‘cause you think you’re right. Right my fucking ass!”

Ingrid opened her mouth to retort, but the blow to her convictions and pride had hit right where it hurt. She looked around the mess she had made, then to the mess he had made with her own door and to the crowd of onlookers around.

Feeling small and ashamed, Ingrid turned around and left, running to nowhere in particular.

“Hey, wait!” Shez looked at her, then glanced at Percy and Bernadetta before going after her. She was still hurt, so he would at least check on her. The mess here was out of his hands.

Percy entered Bernadetta’s room with soft steps, his hands extinguishing the flames before touching on the covers under which she hid.

She flinched with his touch, shrieking. “N-no!”

“Sorry, Bernadetta. It’s me,” he said softly, sitting on the bed as she scooted away from him. “I’m sorry I scared you like that. Are you okay? Did you get burned at all?”

Bernie shook her head in response, sniffling as he softly patted her head.

“That’s good. I’m gonna go call Raphael and Leonie to see if they can help fix up your door right away. I’ll be going now,” he said as he got up slowly. Once he stepped out of the room, he roared to the crowd. “What’re you looking at? Scram!” He stomped on the ground, making the students disperse like a flock of birds.

One person amidst them did not move, however.

It was Byleth, who had her arms crossed and her brow sported a frown.

“... Oh, crap.”

No matter how long they’ve been together, Percy’s actions were inexcusable, and Byleth had to exercise her authority as a Professor to punish him. Ingrid had done something similar, but since that had been a spat between nobles, it was over with after a pat on the back.

In Percy’s case, however, since he was a commoner who had not only attacked a noble but also destroyed a noble’s propriety, he had to be punished accordingly.

… Well, if he was going to actually be punished by the Kingdom’s law, he would have to receive a few lashes and work under Ingrid for a few years to pay back the damages, but since they were at a teaching institution, the punishment was rather light in comparison. He would have to help install another door and build the window frame himself and he would help the servants with cleaning the noble students’ dormitory for the remainder of his stay as a student at Garreg Mach.

Between that, classes, training and monthly missions, Percy was in for one hell of a busy year, just as the battle of the Eagle and Lion approached.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #byleth fire emblem #bernadetta fire emblem #ingrid fire emblem #fatesona #its my tag for ocs shh #my writings #yuki's commissions

[milkbreadtoast]

I drew a friend's OC!! 💛✨

#my art #hmm i cant tag this as oc bc its not my oc #friend's oc #art for others #lol my friend doesnt use social media anymore (they give me permission to post these) so im the only one who has been #publicly posting art of their ocs all this time fksjf its kind of funny #i dont think anyone rmbrs but ive drawn this chara before (did i post it here tho? hmm idr) #i luv him tho #his name is... akdohwan... shh #btw i drew this last night and it was supposed to be just a warm up #and it actually didnt take me that long either but #after drawing it my hand hurts... TT #I wanted to draw other things after so this sux

[the-kipsabian]

THEY ARE GAY YOUR HONOR

#he leans so close to get a hold of him.... #im mcfucking ILL #GOOD LORD. HELP #orangekip #night gifs #my beloved #kip in a box #sweet little clementine #no tags shh if this moves its just meant to be #kip v oc

[spinspoon]

woahg ...... objec ...... now in color !

#spinspoon draws #lineless art #(technically its lined but thats my finished art tag SHH /lh) #osc #osc oc #object oc #speech bubble (oc) #name tag (oc) #lucky (oc) #blindfold (oc) #sticky notes (oc) #plastic spoon (oc) #toast (oc) #traffic cone (oc)

[josephslittledeputy]

WIP... Oh shit, its actually Wednesday??

Tagged by @wrathfulrook @clicheantagonist @marivenah @cassietrn @the-silver-chronicles @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat and I thiiiiink that's it... sorry if you've tagged me & you're not on here, its been a hot minute since I've posted a wip wednesday & my memory is basically Swiss cheese

Tagging anyone who wants to self indulgently share a WIP! Feel free to tag me, I love to read new stuff :)

**Also terribly sorry in advance cause this turned out to be a bit longer than I thought it would be**

WIP 1: OG Verse - fun times with Celeste & Gabriel

He has to resist the urge to throttle her, lest he ruin the inside of his house filled with years of carefully handpicked items, ones he held a certain fondness for. "You ruined my life, Celeste. Or do you not recall?” "Your life?" She tilts her head in mock curiosity. "What life? The one where you were sent anywhere they told you to go, like some mongrel with a barely slackened leash?" “Excuse me?" “We can pretend otherwise. Keep up the illusion that your life was marvelous, picture perfect even. But we both know the truth, don't we?" She takes a step closer. “You were nothing but the High Council’s defanged pup. Cluelessly doing their bidding before I freed you. If anything, you should be thanking me." "Thanking you?" He clenches and unclenches his fist in an attempt to suppress his anger. "Hate me if you must, fight me even, but do it later. Right now we must get out of here. If they do not know where I am yet, they soon will. What do you think will happen once they realize one of their precious dhamphirs has been under their nose this whole time?"

Celeste truly is the nicest individual you'll ever meet :))

Including this little snippet from Gabriel's pov as well cause idk, I just really like it

Unbidden worry strikes him. He listens, waits, and when his ears pick up the sound of soft, even breathing he lets out a breath of his own. Celeste and the baby were still there, unharmed, perhaps even sleeping. It brings an odd sense of comfort, reminiscent of times long forgotten, times he didn’t want to remember. If he did, he’d have to remember what brought them to a halt in the first place and he had a job to do. Grief and old wounds had no place here, at least not at the moment. Kicking his boots off, he treks into the bathroom and gently closes the door behind him. It’s a simple design: Shower to his left, toilet to his right, and a sink with a mirror above it directly across from the door. Leaning against the sink, he ruffles his short, black hair that's shaved on the sides and traces his fingers over an old, faded scar. It runs down almost the whole length of his face, going over his left eye and stopping just shy of the corner of his mouth. Overlapping it is another, only this one goes across his face horizontally, over the bridge of his nose and from cheek to cheek. The only thing that remains of the old Gabriel are his blue eyes, once full of life and mischief, now faded and dull. Turning away from his visage, he heads toward the shower and turns it on, stripping down while he waits for the water to heat up. He doesn’t need a mirror to see the multitude of scars and tattoos that adorn his body. Aching for another drink—if only to dull his senses and lingering memories once more—he curbs the yearning and steps beneath the water.

WIP 2: They Watch From The Pews

Willa squirms, trying to dodge cold fingers that reach out to trace over the letters, caressing them with a sadistic fascination that makes her stomach curdle in disgust. Disgust quickly transforms into a desperation to get away once he finally reveals the knife kept hidden behind his back. “Usually I’d peel the sin off but… I think this will suit you much better, don't you?" Pressing the tip of his blade into her skin, he teasingly drags it across her skin. "Tell me, Deputy, how did you feel when you got the news of Samuel's death?" "Chipper." She spitefully answers with a sneer. John heaves a dramatic sigh and presses the blade down harder, prompting tiny beads of blood to bubble up as he traces over the letters of her tattoo. "You can make this easier for yourself, you know." "I've heard that before. Got me a bullet to the leg." "Because you ran. My men only acted accordingly." "Fuck you and your men, pussy." "My, what a mouth on you." He tuts and makes a deeper cut. Her teeth sink into the leather in her mouth, denying him the satisfaction of hearing her make a noise. Without pause, he moves onto the second letter, brows scrunched up in concentration as he goes over the lines again and again. It isn’t until he’s on the last letter that she finally breaks with a muffled groan. He stops, lifting his eyes from his work. “Comfortable?”

John & Willa are bonding so well. Truly, I think they're starting to get along!

#**wips subject to change** #nah i thought it was tuesday today like... huh #anyway guess what guys i actually have stuff for wip wednesday! granted its not that great but ehh we tryin & thats all that counts #i love when docs will put a red underline under my words like... hunni if that aint a word it is now!! #ohhhh gabriel may be taking celestes shit now but just wait for it... hes a man who suppresses his anger until it builds and blows <3 #i need gabriel like a dog needs a bone ya feel? (shh dont look at me...) #Cel & Gabriel's past history is interesting and a bit convoluted (yes; they fucked) #also i love writing willa bc im like 'how many times can i make her swear? yes!' she just doesnt care anymore #shes feral & angry & shes finally indulging in it #also willas overreacting it was a bullet GRAZE not a bullet WOUND** #meanwhile johns like 'hehe knife time while i interrogate you bestie! <3' #wanted to include some stuff from Sparrows fic too but ah well. maybe next time #ok tag spam done SORRY #oc: celeste night #oc: gabriel walker #oc: willa rook

[felsjustart]

Part II of the commissions I took on for my kitties surgery!

My cookies originally looked like tortilla's but I had way too much fun painting pastries. Also: GLASSES?! Like full-sized glasses is something I don't do often enough lol. This was such a fun commission; I sort of rendered it a lot more than I usually do for my shades, but I didn't want to put it down hehe.

Priscilla Bloodback belongs to a commissioner not on tumblr who is also subsequently a long time supporter of my art! They crafted this NPC for their own DnD campaign so they could have a reveal for one of their players and I just adored all the little details I was given.

#felart #felsjustart #digital art #artists on tumblr #digital arwork #digital drawing #dnd character #dnd oc #digital artist #housewife #hag oc #hopefully its been long enough now that that tag doesnt spoil it #if that player happens across my blog anyway #if not shh #keep player/character knowledge separate

[ascel-vibes]

EEK EEK !!! DEADNAME JUMPSCARED AAA AA !!! (but funni /lh)

#long tags // #anywho anywho- #this is really funni to me cause- i sorta 'assigned' my deadname to be my old emails name after making my chosen ones hdjkSD- #so its like i passed it along.. to the closest random object i had #(bonus cause old email had my entire deadname dshdsdk) #so now everytime i hear my deadname come up my brain will just think that im roleplaying my now personafied old email :] #brand new oc concept: old email that took my deadname <3 what crimes will it commit.. #anywho typed this post out cause i thought this deadname recycling concept was a fun way to dodge dysphoria- and its been a while since- #i got deadname jumpscared in a professional phonecall aHJKSD #<<< totally didnt have the guts to correct the nice person oop but shh details /lh #(also. might actually develop this oc idea but without my actual deadname shkjSD i got attached to this concept now-) #(totally not s p a m t o m 2.0 this is my new original character <3 /lh /lh aHJSKd) #(also if anyone else wants to take this concept of reassigning deadnames to an object or etc :eyes: i am cheering respectfully !!) #(KILL dysphoria no more dysphoria >:])

[fillinforlater]

On her back

Male Reader x Bae Joohyun

Length: 2958 words

Tags: Daddy kink, Master kink, breeding kink, literal breeding, like impregnation, rough sex, mating press (for literal, REAL mating), from loving to degradation, emotional manipulation, teasing, overstimulation, multiple creampies, spitting, toxic relationships

TW: rough impregnation, emotional manipulation, the usual "On her" stuff

Inspiration/Credit: not possible without @sooyadelicacies, my great co-writer and inspirator

(A/N: Reminder that OC is an asshole and that this is fiction. Anyways, rough daddy kink breeding sex, yay. Enjoy a subby!Irene lol. Btw, it's been more than a year since Part 1 came out!)

“I’m here if you need a break from all these youngsters xoxo”

You are alone in the backseat of a Mercedes-Benz, quietly sipping on a cool, refreshing beverage with your airpods in. You need to destress and know just the person to see. You put your drink down and begin to close your eyes, settling in for a quick nap before you arrive at your destination. 

Maybe it was only a few minutes, maybe it was much longer than that, but you feel the car stop and you begin to wake. 

"We have arrived, sir."

Looking out, you find a beautiful secluded home surrounded by lush greenery. One of your many getaways. 

"Thank you, as always," you say politely as the door opens up for you and you're handed your luggage. You stroll up to the door and put in the passcode as well as the biometric scan of your fingerprint. But before you turn the knob, the door already opens and you are greeted by a stunning beauty. 

"Irene," you say simply. 

"Hello, my love."

"It's been a while," you add, a sigh on your lips, but you keep it down.

"It really has," the small woman responds, hands fidgeting on her sides as she just stands there, her boundless beauty that will persist for decades to come filling the air like the strong, vibrant smell of ripe fruits.

"God, you're so fucking pretty." 

This time, the sigh is at least palpable in the aftermath of your words when your arms reach out to her. Joohyun tenses up for a seconds before your embrace reaches her, caresses her back and finds rest on her butt. With ease, you pick the petite idol up and Joohyun's legs instinctively wrap around you.

You kiss her gently, lovingly. "Still tensing up? I thought I trained it out of you?" you tease. 

She blushes. "It's been a long time, Ma—" 

"Shh, not yet. There will be time for that. I need my lover right now, not my toy."

A soft smile on her face. One in a million, quite literally: days and weeks and months go by where she can never feel like this around someone else. They all make her put on the cold, reserved, distant smile, but with you finally by her side, she melts.

At least the temperature of her palms cupping your face is able to melt ice in seconds. Joohyun leans close to you and presses her lips on yours, her passion coming over you in a quiet explosion. A tad bit quicker, a little more tongue when she parts your lips, now you pull her in closer.

"God, I've missed this," she coos and you brush away her astray hair. 

"I have been busy... the young ones are quite—"

"Difficult? Always have been. Think of me back then."

You can't help but smile at the memories, though they also make your cock twitch against its cotton prison. Joohyun giggles. She must feel it poking her exposed midriff. 

"Those were fun times, but you know I'm still as tight as ever, only with more experience now. I promise I'll take away all of your stress today." 

"I know you will. That's why you know of this place. It's a short list, Irene." 

She smiles happily and melts her lips into yours once more.

With her secured around you, you wander off, straight to the bedroom, careful not to bump into anything on your way. There are easily a hundred idols you'd just violently throw onto a bed like this and then destroy their tight pussies, but with Joohyun you remain careful for now. Lay her down on it, never disconnecting your lips.

Joohyun starts to undress immediately and instead of following suit, you decide to watch her. Many months ago was the last time you've seen her bare body—at least in real life, up close. There are dozens of videos you've filmed with her and she even sent nudes last month, a rarity for the outwardly timid idol.

"You're skin," you groan and reach for her bare tummy, then breasts. "Still porcelain, still smooth and perfect."

"Th-thank you. I made sure it's perfect, just for you."

"Not for the fans, not for the members? Not for your own self-gratification?"

"Only for you, my Master."

There she goes. 

"Music to my ears. Hearing such obedience. It's rare to find that nowadays, I wonder if my methods are getting stale?" 

You muse, but she knew it was your way of asking for her opinion, her advice. Bae Joohyun was an intelligent woman and admirable leader after all, and she knew all the tricks in the outside idol world and in your bedroom.

"Are you concerned about the outcome, even with all your leverage? Or is it getting too boring for you?" Before Joohyun can continue, you rub in between her legs, over her modest panties to find a little bit of wetness there. Joohyun opens her mouth; no moan, no breath, she just sinks into the sheets. "I-I just don't see the problem."

"They are just so damn cocky and continue to be. Disobedience, arrogance, self-centeredness, it's all running rampant nowadays."

"We weren't any better back then."

Press a finger onto her pussy lips, the fabric disappearing a bit into the increasingly aroused hole.

"Oh, you think so?"

"Ye-yes, Master. Suzy, IU, Jennie, even I—we were all a lot of trouble for you. I remember the reeducation training with Jessica and Nana. Maybe some things never change—ah, fuck."

Joohyun moans when your tongue trails along the side of her body, up to her collarbone where you place kisses. She is now trapped underneath you and with all your experience and ease, you join her in her (almost) nude state. 

Instead of your finger you place a knee on Joohyun's covered heat and she instinctively grinds on it and loses herself in needy, desperate, good girl whines. She starts to pout and you rake your fingers through her hair like—

"Like in good old times." Your deep groan fills Joohyun with love.

"Yes, Master."

"You know how to grind on this knee. You know how to make yourself look submissive. You know how to combust into nothing but bliss when I just command you too.

"Don't you, Irene?"

"Y-yes, Master! You're so good to me."

Joohyun hesitates and whimpers for a moment, looking at you. 

"Master… call me Joohyun please. Irene is for everybody else, but I am Joohyun and I am yours, my Master. Your whore, your slave." 

The shortlist came with perks. She could make such requests of you. 

"Jennie was one of the worst, but she is one of my biggest sluts, so I guess it only makes sense." You think out loud. 

"Joohyun, is it true Red Velvet will have their last comeback soon?" 

She can only nod and hum. 

"I'll have to fuck you after then too… to breed you." 

Her eyes widen and you feel a great dampness in her folds. 

"Master, it will finally be my turn?" 

"We've discussed this before." 

"I-I know… but I said you could breed me before then. You know I would give up my career for you, Master. I only wish to be your cumdump."

There she goes, melting into a shape you have foreseen years ago. Of course she has been ready for it, but the time is right right now.

"Good girl."

You pull aside her panties and give her pussy lips tiny smacks. Joohyun starts to mewl and whimper in this perfect pitch, the pitch only your hand can make her reach.

"M-Master, hng!"

"This hole is ready to be bred." Indeed, you find it to be exceptional compared to even to your best youngsters, perfect, especially the wetness is extraordinary. "Now spread your legs and tell me how much you need it."

"Master, I've needed it since I underwent your training. I didn't allow any man to touch me but you, Master. I am pure. I-I stopped any form of contraceptive. I've been waiting. I'm ready to walk away from being an idol because all I want is you, Master. I see comments online, I know people call me Mommy because of my age and looks, but the only Mommy I want to be is for your child, Master. Breed me please. I am your good girl. I always have been. This whore, this slut, needs her Master to complete my training, to make me your breeding bitch."

You deem these words to be enough, excessive even. There was no need for all of them to be said out loud, you could clearly see it in her eyes, the wanton desire for your cock creaming inside her.  Some people might call it cruel to her, but the last person to call it cruel is Joohyun herself.

You penetrate her gracefully, something she has not experienced ever. There was always a need to destroy her pussy; after all, Joohyun was once a defiant bitch. Nothing of this is left as she ecstatically welcomes you inside, dopamine flushing her brain, passion in the way she moans, laughs when you bottom out.

"Daddy!"

"Squeeze tight, Joohyun. I need you to make me cum as often as you can and keep it all down, so you better be the tightest girl ever tonight."

"I'm Daddy's tight girl, just breed me and I'll not lose any of your seed."

"Stick your tongue out."

Joohyun does as told and you let some of your saliva spill out onto your tongue before it oozes down to her. You always found her cock drunk expression thrilling, this one probably being its greatest form when you start to thrust into her as she still tries to catch your gift.

She pouts, as your saliva misses her just a bit and drips on her body. 

"If they saw you now—Irene, everyone's ice queen—reduced to nothing but my personal whore, a Daddy and Master kink too? Some people think you're a bitch in how you behave and treat others. They are right in a way, aren't they darling? 

“You are my bitch.”

"Ma-Master, you are right," Joohyun moans, her response interrupted by ragged breaths. "I-I'm your bitch, a bitch in heat. Do-do you like the hot pussy of this ice slave?"

Has she always been this humorous? A circle around her clit, just a rub, and her eyes are wide open. Joohyun looks so different in bed, a different kind of gorgeous from her stage presence during songs with the velvet-concept. You appreciate both, but this is clearly your favorite.

"Good that it's still tight," you groan and pound her harder. "I bottomed out a thousand times and still your grip is... fuck."

"Yes, Master, please praise my pussy more!"

"Isn't this enough praise, bitch?" you say in rhythm to slower but significantly harder thrust, the type to make inexperienced girls limp and screaming. Not Joohyun, she takes it well, though her voice still breaks at the rough pleasure forced upon her needy sex.

Joohyun stretches her arms out, holds onto the frame of the bed while you force her feet further apart and higher in the air. She looks stupid, an embarrassing position for an idol of her class to be in. 

"Yes, Master!" she suddenly howls when your finger presses into the flesh of her thighs. "I don't want to dance anymore, make me unable to dance!"

"When I'm fucking done with you, don't even think about getting out of bed." You lean down to her sweaty, burning face and nibble at her jaw. "Don't move on your own before I've filled your entire womb!"

"Yes, Master.” Joohyun struggles to catch her breath, her words somewhere up in the air along with your face deliberately drooling down on her. “It's time isn't it? Please make me pregnant. I've been waiting for so long, Master, I've been patient and good—" 

"In due time, Joohyun, but you will take it all the way in your womb until you're dripping and spilling seed everywhere. One day.” Your promise is sincere, partially because Joohyun’s rippling pussy has your voice a bit strained. Rejecting her would be pointless, really, her pussy could just will you in and if she’s really not taking contraceptives— 

“I've heard your contracts are up in the air. Are you really going to throw it all away for your Master?"

Joohyun puckers her lips for you to kiss, barely able to squeeze out words through them and her forced out moans.

"Yes, M-Master! I don't care about the contracts, I only want your child."

"Then show me that cute little face," you say, teasingly leaning down to her lips searching for yours but not getting them. "The one you make when you cum on my cock like the good slut I trained you to be."

Joohyun is almost at that point of peak devotion, where she can almost will herself to an orgasm just from your command, but it's still too many almosts. You still have to lay a hand on her clit, the other on her waist and move both your hips and hands in quick, stimulating fashion until Joohyun squeaks like it's her first time in your bedroom. 

The night you tamed her, many, many moons ago, was a great achievement, because you know she would still be drop dead gorgeous when you decide to do this to her. Without giving Joohyun any signs of your imminent orgasm, you cream her the moment the pleasure over takes her. 

Her cute expression of bliss and submission to your superior frame is flooded with ecstasy and pride when you flood her cavern and womb with a thick load that is meant to stick inside her and eventually form a baby. Joohyun frantically holds onto your arms stabilizing her ever twitching body, her glassy eyes looking at you in reverence and servility. 

"Th-thank you, Master," she whispers, her face and chest flushed with happiness, both a bit puffed from pride and soreness as her walls still milk you. "It feels so warm."

"I know what you're feeling," you coo into her ear and feel her burn up even more. "Finally, no condom, no contraceptive, nothing blocking my seed from blooming in your tight tummy. Every orgasm before this pales in comparison, because this one was real.

"So I'm giving you more."

"Ma-Master, I don't deserv—ahh!"

You put every vampire to shame when you furiously bite down on a pale sweet spot between Joohyun's neck and shoulder. Unlike vampires however, the faint taste of blood pulls you back to reality, that it's better to just fuck Joohyun's cum-filled cunt deeper than getting your teeth into her deeper. Nonetheless, the euphoric girl has both arms around you and tightly clings to you.

"Ma-Master," she cries out. "I ca-can't take it any-anymore."

"Don't care," you growl, empathy foreign to you. "I don't care if your pretty feet or legs or hips go numb. You'll take my cock until I want to stop."

You glare at her, eyelids hiding sniveling, tears begging for mercy as once again, overstimulation breaks her. What a weakness to still have. It’s part of Joohyun, sure, but you thought she would’ve grown past it, especially for this moment.

"You wanted this Joohyun. You wanted Master to breed you. You begged for it, don't you fucking bitch to me now. Did I make a mistake in choosing you? Are you really ready to give up your idol career if you can't handle me like this?" 

Every word sliced into her. It's been ages since you broke her down like this, not just physically and sexually, but verbally. It was like she was your trainee all over again, a dominant, crushing hand on her throat, an unrelenting pelvis crashing down on hers.

"I will fuck you for however long I want..." 

You pause for a moment and choke her even harder. 

"Suzy can take it. Why can't you?"

"I can, Daddy!” Joohyun screams, finally fighting for herself against herself. “Make me a baby mommy, don't listen to my stupid mouth. You, you own this pussy!"

Feel Joohyun's pussy struggle to take all the cock and cum when you fold her to a painful degree and watch her face become just a canvas for tears. It's also red, like her bleeding shoulder or her round butt which you spank over and over again, red like her sore pussy lips or her insides. 

"Good thing that you're still tight," you scold Joohyun and spit at her face. "At least your pussy is trying to make your real dream come true."

"Master, I'm cumming."

"Shut up. I don’t care. Put your own fingers around your throat. Spread your pussy lips. Look at me, while I destroy you.

"While I end your career, Irene."

A second load, pumped and mixed into the first and ultimately overflowing from Joohyun's gaping hole. The moment you pull out, she knows that this will be it. She is going to be pregnant, no way around it.

You gently cup her face, look at an expression of bewilderment, hurt, happiness, sadness, pain, confusion. Not the first time that you've destroyed a young woman like this while making her pregnant. A kiss to ease the pain a bit, she thinks, but it's just a set up for a reality check.

"I'm a bit disappointed," you tell her. "I needed your full devotion, but it seems you have forgotten how to take a second load.

"That said, I don't regret it. You're beautiful and ready. I think your group deserves one more comeback, then you can tell them what happened."

"Th-thank you, Daddy."

"You can stop choking yourself, by the way."

"Yes, Daddy. I-I love you."

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #male reader smut #red velvet smut #irene smut #bae joohyun smut #joohyun smut #red velvet irene smut

[tirfpikachu]

i really think you can give yourself something akin to dysphoria w things unrelated to gender too. i think it may be the same feeling that otherkin and fictionkin people describe, and uhhhhh not to expose myself but yeah i was a hardcore kinnie and still dabble in it, and the feeling is a YEARNING for a different body and a different self, a yearning to not just be your boring cringy lonely self, bc you tried to fix and like that one but it's just too much work and it's annoying

i think also that any body modification or identity changes eventually gets boring, or at least neutral. you change your pronouns online or even irl, it makes you nervous, bashfully happy when someone uses it, giddy with emotion, etc it consumes your days until everyone uses them long enough then it all loses its spark and you have to focus on normal life again. there's a feeling of boredom followed by sudden thrilling nervewracking excitement when they (and i include myself in that) think of a higher stake like "omg should i legally change my name again? should i change my pronouns for the millionth time? what if i'm genderfluid instead of agender? what if i'm bigender instead of demigirl? what would it feel like? omg let me get into the mind of what those identities would feel like let me meditate and see if the ~vibe~ matches my true inner self let me journal on my blog let me go thru the tumblr tag of it to see if all the memes speak to my soul!! ugh this isn't big enough actually, this hasn't changed my life radically and fixed all my life problems and self-esteem yet, should i go on hormones? should i get surgeries? should i tell loved ones that i know will be bigoted and once they show themselves as transphobes i'll have to cut them off? bc my trans friends will reaffirm that they're as bad as abusers? should i get bottom surgery too?"

there's a fun secretive feeling of anonymity, a persona, a simulacrum. almost an OC of your ideal self you get to work on for sooo long until the changes happen, and by then you're emotionally attached to that OC, you want to be them So Bad. it's special rebirth. and many of those ppl... well not all, i do respect that some choose that path for other reasons and for healthier ones than others, i'm not 100% against transition/identification and not all dysphoria is healable, but as a detrans woman who's talked to many like me... MANY of these are just desperate people looking for good feelings and self-esteem, like i used to be. desperate ppl will grasp at anything they think will fix it, especially if luck is involved like hrt/surgeries where you don't actually fully know what the result will be and if you'll even like it, and if you don't you'll just be an ugly boring detrans reject. that's HIGH STAKES and for a mentally unwell person struggling w dysphoric symptoms it's addictive as hell and it makes you feel so special and makes your life finally feel thrilling like a movie, you have a vibrant community, you're finally interesting enough, and you'll finally be attractive enough after all the surgeries and hormones and with the cutest name and the most fitting pronouns and everybody will love you forever and will protect you from the big bad bigoted meanies who you should never talk to ever again shh any indecision is internalized transphobia and any worries from others is bigotry! just keep going!! never question anything or slow down ever and any therapy is just conversion therapy sweetie, don't listen to them <3

#lay text #radfem #radsafe #detrans

[writingkeepsmewhole]

Shadows

This is part 7 of Snow In The Dark. I hope you like it :)

Fic Summary: Snow has never known who she was. Being raised in the streets made her strong but lonely. That changed when she met Jack them becoming as close as sisters. She thought she found her family. That all changes when she crashes on a planet with only one rule. Stay in the light.

Part Summary: Snow hides in the crashed ship with the rest of the others, only to learn that its not as safe as it seems.

Riddick x OC Snow

Warnings: Language. Mentions of death.

Part 1 Part 6

Let me know if you want to be tagged :P : @here4thespice @amarokofficial @backseat-serenade-dizzyhurricane @pinkcrystal44

The inside of the crashed ship was pitch black. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

Hearing a few clanks, a light floods the small space as they turn on a torch.

“She should have stayed down.” Jack says looking up at me is sad from seeing Sharon die. 

“If she only would have stayed down she would be okay. Like you.” She says, wrapping her arms around me in the middle burying her head in my chest.

“Shh, I know. I’m so sorry.” I say rubbing her back. Thinking of Riddick knowing if it wasn’t for him I would be dead. Very dead.

I don’t know what made him save me but I wasn’t going to question it. In fact I was wishing I knew a way to repay him.

“You remember the boneyard?” Johns asks, making me look at the man I was just thinking about.

I swore I could see a smirk settle on his face. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking the same thing as me.

“This just might be the thing that killed everything else on this planet.”

“What are we gonna do now?” Jack asks, looking up at me.

“We are gonna stick together like we always do.” I say smiling at her.

“Is this the only light we have? Is this everything?” Paris asks.

“There's a cutting torch on the floor here somewhere.”

“Quite, please, everyone.” Iman says, him placing his ear on the door.

Jack moved away from me to do the same.

The wailing of the creatures outside being heard in the distance. I take a breath, feeling my heart drop knowing we are slowly getting surrounded.

“Why do they do that? Make that sound?” Jack asks.

“It’s how they see. With sound reflecting back. Letting them know where we are.” I answer everyone turning to me.

I jump along with everyone else when rattling sounds from behind me make me spin around to face the noise. Everyone is shining their lights trying to see what is going on.

“Could be a breach in the hull. I don’t know.” Carylon says softly.

“Oh great.” I mutter not wanting to think about how many of those things are in here with us.

“Come on, Johns. You got the big gauge.”

“I’d rather piss glass.” Johns says, making me snort.

“Of course you would.” I say, earning a glare from him.

“Why don’t you go fucking check?” He says, challenging me.

“I’m not staying here anymore.” Paris says before I can answer.

“Where are you going?” Johns asks spinning around to go after him.

“Hey! Hey!.” Johns says, the others stopping him from opening the door.

I ignore them easing closer to Riddick, him looking down at me, his eyes shining. He didn’t have to say anything. It was clear he didn’t want me to check out if there were any monsters in here with us.

I step closer to him, my stomach flipping as I do. Like standing on a tall ledge getting ready to jump. Pure adrenaline was pumping through me when I stood next to him.

He jerks his head for me to follow him, us getting closer to the group.

“Hurry!” Iman yells, him opening up a small closet for us to get into.

Riddick, herding me into it before slipping into it himself, the others rushing in as well.

“Now we are trapped in a much smaller space. I hate this” Paris says, making me roll my eyes.

‘At least we are not out there with it.’ I wonder how these people were going to survive.

My head snaps to Iman yelling at the creature outside stabbing through the door with its claw. Almost hitting his head.

‘Oh great it’s smart.’ I think, as Riddick leans down, lighting the cutting torch off Paris lighter makes him jump and look up at him.

I move closer to Riddick as he starts cutting a hole through the wall. Johns firing shots off at the door we just came through.

“Does it not realize these things like noise?” I ask, Riddick lifting his mouth in a smirk.

I smile glad he got my joke. 

He passes the torch to me as he kicks the newly made door open. A circle hole letting us out of the room and into a bigger part of the ship.

I crawl through it following him, Carylon and the others behind us. I pass her the torch, to help the others get through.

Jack latching onto me once more. I smile at her wrapping my arms around her to hold her close. Her eyes bounce around the room as the others start barricading the hole.

“Where is Riddick?” Johns asks, looking around.

Letting go of Jack I turn around to see Riddick has disappeared.

“I said," Where is Riddick?” Johns says again, making me realize he was talking to me.

“I don’t know. I don’t have a tracker on him.” 

“Go find him.” He says, gesturing  towards the dark ship.

I roll my eyes not wanting to cause an argument with Johns. It would be quieter if I just did as he asked. I didn’t want the creatures to find us again.

“Stay with the group. I’ll be right back.” I say to Jack.

I move to start easing into the darkness. Taking slow cautious steps. Feeling like we were in the cargo bay of the ship I moved past boxes and nets.

The more I walked the darker it got since I was getting away from the group's light source. Moving farther and farther away until I couldn’t hear or see them anymore.

I was submerged in complete darkness when I felt the feeling of being watched. Swallowing, I slow down, trying to listen harder. To see if I could hear anything around me.

I take a deep breath, when I feel arms wrap around me. A large hand covering my lips as I was pulled into a firm chest.

The growing familiar smell of Riddick invading my senses. I don’t know how I could relax and have my body heat up at the same time.

He doesn't say anything. Only uses his hand on my mouth to make me look up.

Looking up to see the movement of something. I blink a few times shocked when my vision clears enough to see the silhouette of a creature eating something.

I let him pull me back into the shadows. Into an even darker space if that was possible. Hidden for the beast. Or at least hidden enough that it cared about its meal more than us.

His hand falls from my face to my waist as he eases around me. Moving to stand in front of me. His large frame blocked me from view.

If I didn’t know any better I would say he was protecting me. But he wouldn’t do that? Would he?

Despite the question in my mind I reach up and grab the back of his tank top. Telling myself it was in case he took off I would know to follow. To run to safety but I would be lying if I didn’t find something comforting about touching him in some way.

I’ve definitely lost my mind it seems.

We stay like that for a moment or two waiting for an opening to slip away I’m guessing until one of Imen’s boys comes around the corner.

I feel my stomach drop knowing this is only going to end badly.

He lets out a gasp when the flesh of whatever the monster was eating falls in front of him. The creature makes a sound, turning to face us, clearly earring the boy.

“Extremely..bad..timing.” Riddick says slowly, easing out just enough for the boy to see him.

I knew I was blanked in darkness and Riddick’s body but It didn’t stop my heart from picking up. My gut telling me this was about to go south.

“Just don’t run.” Riddick says, sounding like he was barely moving his mouth. 

“Riddick?” Carylon says, hearing his voice.

“Don’t. Stop. Burning.” He answers her, him standing perfectly still.

I matched him, realizing he figured out something about these things. They could only see you when you moved.

Hearing the crate behind us move and creak as a creature climbs onto it I ease closer to Riddick. Pressing myself into him, not wanting to be close enough for that thing to sneak up and grab me.

Both of us look up watching the creature's claws grow. Riddick’s large hand reaches back finding my hip, him easing us sideways into the shadows once more. His hand doesn't leave my body once we are locked in place again.

I watch the claw snap out at the boy making him jump and take off running. The creature flying after him. Another creature killed him, and the two began to fight.

I gasp when Riddick grabs my shirt pulling me after him as he starts to run, letting go as soon as he knows I'm right on his heels.

We book it towards the group, the light in the distance. Hearing us coming the group turns, shining their lights at us, at Riddick. I hear him yell and watch as he falls over holding his face, but it’s not in time enough for me to trip and fall on him. Making him grunt. The creature flying over us right towards the others.

It screeches flying off as Johns starts shooting at it.

“I’m sorry.” I say, moving to get off him. Riddick pushes himself up standing next to me.

Everyone screams as the monster falls from the ceiling, all of them huddling around it. I stay back not wanting to be anywhere near the thing.

“Is it alive?” Carylon whispers.

“I hope so.” I answered her, the sound of sizzling filling the air.

“It’s like the light is scalding it.” Paris says as the flashlight moves over its dead body.

“It hurts them. The light hurts them.” She says.

Hearing more noises Iman calls for his child.

I looked at the floor knowing the kid was not going to answer.

“We’ll burn a candle for him later.” Johns says, making me want to throw something at him.

“Come on, let's get out of here.” He says turning to head back to kick open the next door way.

#chronicles of riddick #richard b riddick #riddick fanfiction #pitch black riddick #pitch black fanfic #pitch black fic #pitch black #riddick imagine #riddick x reader #riddick fanfic #riddick fic #riddick x you #riddick x oc #shadows #snow in the dark

[thequeenofthewinter]

The Walls of Windhelm

You asked, so you shall receive. I have no WIP Wednesday. Instead, here is the cursed smut from the next chapter of my fic. (Which I guess technically makes this whole 2234 word monstrosity a WIP.) Obviously, if you plan on reading the chapter, you're going to spoil yourself for this. (I mean...unless you want to read it again. ;) ) There are no REAL spoilers here or anything you NEED to know other than I have an OC whose name is Dahlia, she's married to Ulfric Stormcloak, and this is self-indulgent smut.

Hiding this under the cut. Please don't interact if you are a minor. I'm warning you that this is rated E. Shout out to the fabulous @oblivions-dawn for proofreading for me. <3

Don't feel obligated to read this, but as I am using this as WIP Wednesday, I guess I will tag some people. Please do tag me if you have something. @dirty-bosmer @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @vivifriend @bostoniangirl21 @umbracirrus @skyrim-forever @changelingsandothernonsense @ladytanithia @throughtrialbyfire @inkysqueed

“Ulfric, what are you—”

Dahlia doesn’t finish her sentence as suddenly her back is pressed up against the rough stone walls of some abandoned alleyway of the Valunstrad.

The hour is late and no one and nothing so much as stirs as the temple bells chime their midnight chorus. When Dahlia had suggested a moonlight stroll after dinner, this is not what she had pictured: Ulfric’s beard scratching almost abrasively against her throat as his tongue licks at the skin of her neck, his hands under her thighs, fingers digging into her skin almost painfully as he hikes up her skirt—body pressed flush against her own, strong evidence of what he wants pushing against her heat.

“You know what I am doing. Don’t play coy with me, Dahlia.” His voice whispers in her ear before taking the lobe into his mouth and sucking on it. “And don’t tell me you haven’t thought of this.”

“I—”

She is cut off again. This time by Ulfric’s fingers sliding their way over the silken fabric of her undergarments.

“Tell me,” he asks, his voice low but tone teasing, “did you put these on for me?” He doesn’t hear her response as he pushes beyond the fabric as two fingers glide into her with ease. Ulfric tsks as he curls them up into her walls. “Have you been dreaming of this? Me pressed against you and taking you against these walls.” He tests her as he pumps his fingers in and out of her wet cunt. “From how wet you are now, I think you have.”

Despite the frigid temperatures of Windhelm at night, heat blooms through Dahlia’s body as she throws her head back, her husband’s actions eliciting a moan from her.

His mouth descends on hers, swallowing the sound as he bites down on her lip. “Quiet, my heart, or they will hear us. You don’t want that, do you?”

“Why—”

“Shh,” his lips brush softly over hers. “Because this is my city, and I’ll have you wherever I please, my Queen. Now, stop asking questions.” As if to emphasize the point, he presses against her harder, his fingers stroking languidly against her walls.

Her hips spread wider around him, giving in to his wants and not really caring to think beyond the thick fog of pleasure descending upon her. She tries to rock her hips against his fingers, squeezing tightly around him, but it is of no use. He will give her no more.

A self-satisfied smirk makes its way onto his face. “If you want more, you’re going to need to ask.”

“You are insufferable.” She rolls her hips over his fingers to no avail.

“And I am yours. I’ll remind you that you chose to marry me despite my flaws.” He retorts as he curls her fingers into her again.

“I will—”

“You will what?” He asks, not even giving her a moment to finish, and he lowers his mouth to her neck, biting down on her delicate skin.

She gasps, surprised by the sensation, and he does it again, this time hard enough to leave a mark. It stings but not unpleasantly, and her head moves to the side to give him better access to do as he pleases.

“What? No more protest? Have I won then?” His fingers suddenly stop. “Will be doing this my way?”

Damnable, self-centered, teasing prick.

She whines, a pathetic sound which falls from her lips unbidden.

At this, Ulfric’s smirk only grows wider. He knows exactly what she likes, and he will play her like a pawn across a chess board. His thumb soon finds its way to her clit and rubs against it.

Dahlia’s eyes fall closed, and she bites down on her tongue to keep herself quiet, the action unexpectedly drawing a little blood. “Fuck me.” 

“I thought that this was beneath you and entirely inappropriate for a King and Queen.” He pushes her further, loving the frustrated anger he finds dancing behind her dilated pupils.

“Fuck me, Ulfric.” She hisses as she reaches down to his pants, stroking a hand over the bulge there before pulling his cock from trousers. “Take this,” she strokes him ever so gently, “and put it inside my cunt.” Dahlia grinds against him.

“That’s my wife.” His lips find hers again, kissing her insistently as he pries at her mouth. 

There is no fight left in her, and she opens for him automatically, the taste of iron coating her tongue and tinging their kiss with the hot taste of metal and salt; however, he doesn’t mind. He pushes his tongue against Dahlia’s more, trying to get a better taste of her. He would consume her whole body and spirit if the Divines would let him. Perhaps he will at another time.

For now, he presses against her firmly, both hands now under her thighs to hold her against the wall as he pushes his cock roughly into her.

This time neither of them can help the moan which springs forth—nor do either of them care at this point. Dahlia’s hands reach out to Ulfric, pulling him to her by the collar of his cloak as he fucks her until her back presses against the wall behind her. While both of them normally enjoy a bit of romance, there is no space for it at the moment.

“Harder, Ulfric.” She pants, her legs spreading wider for him as she reaches under his shirt to scratch her nails against his chest.

His hips dig into hers further as he slows down his pace, hitting her harder just as she asked. “I will bury my cock so deeply into you that you’ll still be feeling me as you walk in the morning.”

“Is that a threat?”

“A promise.” He growls into her ear and nips at her neck.

Heat rolls through her slowly, building up from her core in waves, and she is left helpless against them as she moves her head to the side, little gasps falling from her lips. “Ulfric…”

“Say it again, love. Tell me who is fucking you against this wall.”

Dahlia bites down on her lip, swallowing the moan bubbling up from within her. Surely, if she is any louder, the late-night watch will investigate and—

“Eyes over here, Dahlia. I asked you for something.” His hand comes up to cup her cheek and her eyes snap open to look into his vivid blues. He moves into her more quickly, picking up to a punishing pace. “Say my name.”

“No.” Despite her refusal, her voice comes out as only a breathy whisper.

Stubborn as always, but that doesn’t matter. He’ll have his way eventually. He knows her.

Leaning forward, she catches his mouth, tongue meeting his in a sloppy kiss as she fights against the feeling welling up inside of her. But he is ready for her. He lifts her higher suddenly to set her down on top of a stack of abandoned crates. Now, his hands are free, and they move up under her skirts to drag over the folds of her wet cunt.

“Say it.” 

Dahlia clenches around him defiantly, fighting through the pleasure which quickly dulling her other senses. A smirk forms its way onto her lips as he groans; however, her victory is short-lived. Calloused fingers soon find their way to her clit, swirling around the bundle of nerves, and she bites down onto his one of his shoulders to keep herself quiet.

“Damn you to Oblivion, Ulfric.” She manages between breaths as she gasps for more air.

He nips at her neck again, sucking on the skin there until he is sure it will bruise. He is ruthless when he wants to be, and now is not the time for him to give in. Not a chance. “Only if you go with me, wife.” He whispers low in her ear before taking the lobe between his teeth. “Come with me.” 

At that, the pads of his fingers circle the bundle of nerves again as he presses his cock into her with rough, erratic thrusts. He is slowing down, but he will make her go with him over the edge.

Hands fist and grab into his hair, and then slide down his neck to his chest, touching everywhere she can grasp as he strokes her languidly—as if he could do this all day.

“Please,” she looks up at him, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded, but he only continues his slow torture. There will be no mercy for her. Not now.

“I want to watch you come undone in front of me, slowly unravel you until all you can think about is me.” His voice rasps, hot breath tickling her ear as he groans.

“Ulfric…”

His name passes from her lips against her will. Between his fingers playing with her nerves and the fullness she feels inside her cunt, she is warm putty—molding to his will easily as she loses herself in him.

“Again, Dahlia.” He slides out of her, slick with wetness before driving back into her. 

She was always going to be the beginning and the end for him, his fate as intertwined with hers as their bodies—and he wouldn’t have it any other way. There is no sweeter way for him to go and no greater desire than to spend the rest of his days with her just like this.

Ulfric’s hands reach out to explore her further, leaving no inch untouched as he pulls her closer to him to lick at the sweat of her skin. Salty and pungent, with a hint of something uniquely hers, his tongue travels down the side of her neck all the way to her exposed collarbone.

Half-broken gasps of his name continue to fall from her lips, and her fingers tighten around his shoulders desperately trying to dig into the muscles underneath his cloak. 

“Ulfric, I—”

“Shh,” he quiets her and nips at the side of her neck before looking into her eyes. A wickedness flashes behind his gaze as he smirks.  “I know, my heart.”

Ulfric readjusts her to push her against the wall, the roughness of the stone behind her scraping against her back.

“Why has it been so long since we have done this?” Dahlia asks him as she snakes both arms around his neck.

He chuckles. “I asked myself that same question numerous times over the last few months. You frequented my daydreams in all sorts of sordid ways.”

“I always knew you were a dirty old man.”

“Perhaps.” He leans forward to whisper in her ear, hot breath fanning out around the shell. “But you’re no better. Come for me, Dahlia, and show me how much I know you like it.”

She arches against him as if to prove his point, and her hands reach towards him running down his back to then trace a trail up his chest. No place is left untouched as Ulfric continues to slide into her, his rhythm becoming increasingly erratic. The pace leaves both of them gasping and trembling as they fight to mark every inch of the other’s exposed skin with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

Soon thereafter, the waves become too much as they swell and finally break, a lazy warmth slowly overtaking them like the first rays of Summer’s heat only to build up into the fire of Midyear. Dahlia gasps as her walls begin to flutter around him, her lips meeting his in the middle in a desperate kiss.

Mouths, hands, tongues, and teeth all crash together as a low groan springs forth from Ulfric’s lips. He can hold on no longer, and he finally gives up the last of his control to her at feeling her end, his body responding to hers as his cum spills down her thighs. However, his wife doesn’t stop. She pushes her hips against him as she kisses him all the way through his orgasm—first, her lips meet his own, then his cheeks, and finally she leans forward to touch his forehead, the salt of the sweat there coating her tongue sweetly.

There is no place Dahlia would rather be than right where she is as she coaxes him through the many sensations flowing through their bodies to come back to Nirn. Her hands reach up to wrap around his neck, bringing him forward. “I love you. I hope you know this. Always and forever from this plane of existence to the next. I’d follow you anywhere…even if you are a smug bastard.”

Ulfric laughs, a low rumbling which makes her stomach flip. “Good, because you will not be rid of me—not anytime soon at least. I’ve been told I’m too stubborn.” 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She smiles but then a more serious look clouds her gaze. One of her hands reaches up to cup his cheek as she tilts his face down look at her. “Do you think we will get many more moments like this?" 

His eyes meet hers unafraid, yet conflicting emotions rock through his core like sea waves against safe harbors. “I will take as many of them as I can get until I cannot any longer.” He leans forward to kiss her softly before pulling back, his lips barely brushing against hers. “You know I am selfish when it comes to you, and I’ll not let you go without a fight.”

#skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #ulfric stormcloak #dahlia wintersnow #ulfric x dragonborn #winter writes #help me #I'm going to hell

[echodoesstuff62333]

Introduction

Hello! Our collective names are Cage/Kage/CK, though we don't mind being called Echo or Koi. We are a fan of Undertale, TMNT, SAMS, Samurai Rabbit: The Usagi Chronicles, and more! I) We collectively go by They/them, It/Its, or Neos

We write fanfic, and draw. The two current fics we're posting are 'Love You 'Til the Blood Dries and the Bones Decay' and 'The Sun Wants to Set' [currently going through a rewrite] (aha this part is outdated but theres too much we're writing to list it all)

Fanfiction does not have a schedule, and might take a while to be updated!

Feel free to ask us anything! Just not anything wierd. (Please refrain from sending chain stuff..)

Post explaining some things being added

I hope you enjoy our tumblr! Have fun, and have a wonderful day/night!

《 ☆ F A N F I C T I O N S ☆ 》

Love You 'Til the Blood Dries and the Bones Decay

The Sun Wants to Set

Veteran Of A Mutant's Veterinarian

《 ☆ T A G S ☆ 》

#Koi catastrophe - rants, vents, pretty much just random stuff not fandom related

#Choi Dianzar - any posts that have to do with my TMNT oc, Choi. (Please note that now they are an alter so this tag may not be used.)

#Arrow Ace - any posts that have to do with my ROTTMNT oc, Arrow! [Currently inactive tag, also see above]

#bittwbbwftt - any posts that have to do with our ROTTMNT story "Blood Is Thicker Than Water But Blood Won't Feed The Thirsty"

#Veteran Of A Mutant's Veterinarian - any posts about our series VOAMV aka Veteran Of A Mutant's Veterinarian

#Adoption contract - the offical contract to adopt us.

《 ☆ S O C I A L S ☆ 》 [sorta not really but shh]

Twitter [inactive]

SquidgeWorld

Ao3

YouTube

Ibspaint

Draw Box

Unvale

What's this?? Choi has a toyhouse profile? 100%! Not the best but hey, I tried! [Unupdated due to personal reasons]

《 ☆ S I D E B L O G S ☆ 》

@rosewater-n-rosemary

@koi----kaboooooooom

@cookithekrangandmiwa

@neonleonnblueboi

@michelanngelloooo

@raphtheredanngel

@dontronneee

@kiepo-the-number-one-neon-leon

@echos-waterfall-flowergarden

@echos-hell-hole (Warning - Gore + Suggestive things)

《 ☆ D N I ☆ 》

Transphobes, Homophobes, Racists, Ableists, pretty much anybody who is mean or hurtful to others without justifiable reasons.

《 ☆ B O U N D A R I E S ☆ 》

Please respect that at times we may have littles or others children (like) alters or such on here. We would prefer to keep sexual references to a low, a few jokes here and there are fine but overall just try to avoid it. (this doesn't apply to private messages :D). Also we can get triggered by certain tones, or words, so if we ask you to stop please do.

Theres an infestation

Sysboxes made by @/sysboxes ^^

Guess Who Anon misspelling my name smh

Cute Counter, amount of times I've been called cute(that I remember); 11

this masterpost is really long.. wow..

#tmnt #tmnt au #rottmnt #alternate universe #Koi catastrophe

[tangerinesteve]

Last Sentence Tag Game

rules: in a rb or separate post, post the last sentence you wrote in any of your wips (original, fanfic, etc), and tag as many people as there are words.

Whoa look at meeee actually doing this for once in my liiiiffeeee!!! I got tagged by @scoops-aboy86 ! And others in the past but shh shh shh! I very rarely have wips. And this is technically like... from more of a ramble to a friend that i might turn into a fic!!! But its my OC Kirby (he/they) shipped with Gator Tillman, Gator walked out of church cuz his father was ranting about gays going to hell and he came to Kirby's and they're talking about how maybe Gator should find something else to worship.... 🥰 they are not "together" yet here.

Kirby feels Gator's finger hook around his middle one, locking them together, and watches Gator watch him as he smiles softly and says "I'll think of something."

No pressure tagging! (Also there's no way im gonna be able to think of that many people so we're not doing it by words okay wwweeeeee!

@hotluncheddie @mrprettywhenhecries @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @steddielations @sidekick-hero

#tag game #I DID ONE OH MY GOD IVE NEVER DONE ONE OF THESE BEFORE #im running away cuz im still shy about my oc!!! bbyyeeee #mine #my writing

[dyrewrites]

OC in Fifteen

Two of you got me, so I guess I will do this thing.

Thank you to @angie-j-kay and @reininginthefirewriting for the tags ^.^

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

We are going to be grabbing one of my babies though, so you'll have to deal with her terrible speech patterns -- and a lot of very world-specific words.

Let's hear from Mitra (or Anmyr Dyran Mitra, as is her whole name, shh, it's a secret) from Weald and Wen! (fair warning, a lot of it will be yelling)

“Nots needs powders, I says. Fast roll roun' belt, I says. Well, peeks now, ya cracked crag, you's all full'a splin’ers ans fixin’ ta shatter!” “Din'd trees! You's peak'd that fiend, ya? Yous whisps roll's me right for it! Holds is rollin’ rounds for clinks ans giggles? It's is cracked, empty ans hungry! I needs'a tell Parni.” “You's jus' cracked ans hearin' what ain't around.” “I's hot, I's broke ans I's empty! A fleck. A fleck more craggy games ans CHOMP CHOMP GOES YOUS BRANCHES!” “Aww, Parni...did yous snack bite back?” “Shimmer brights its is! To peeks yous scuffed? Its is,” Mitra nibbled her lip then spread her arms wide. “Its is shinier thans alls the Lady's light ons me surface.” “Still not feels chip, ya cracked crag,” Mitra creaked, “is yous scratchin’ ons what's is wearin'. I’s nots ones yous dolls, Parnamyr, ans if yous holds to etchin' so Din’d crooked, you's be holdin' less bits to etch with.” “No nasties best be scratchin’ round,” She warned them, “I's is strobin' mad ans itchin' to snatch eyes!” “Yous shine me climb or I’s crisp yous up.” “I's holds all words. Ans I's nots a whisp!” “I holds whats is etched inside yous, Fyrni, ans I nots rolls one step 'way till yous creak straight.” “Bitey tree holds no bites! Nots a chip! Fangs is thicks as skitterfeet!”  “I's ones whats fetch yous ichor. Ifs nots for me theres would shine no yous.” “I's shiny,” Mitra cut in, startling a flinch from Delgrij. “Gots no scuffs, see?” she offered a smile to Faerai and twirled round to prove her claim. “Alls glimmers ans gloss.” “Parni,” Mitra tested as her brother’s lips twitched and his eyes burned, “snatch yous face ifs ones flecks—”

I'm gunna tag my sisser @rmgrey-author and leave this OPEN

#writeblr #oc in fifteen #oc tag game #tag game #open tag #weald and wen #i love her but she's difficult to understand #it even comes up in the book #it is not normal

[underratedandoverit]

some things never change

908 words chuck taylor/trent baretta (implied, can be read as gen)

death before dishonor changed me on some level. my first time with these boys like this so like. be kind to me. takes place post their title match (i also know oc was there but shh lemme have this)

its proofread and edited now, i dont think its terrible but be mindful that i wrote this in an hour of frenzy at 6am originally lmao

hurt/comfort. mild warnings for trent having stitches, theres mention of blood, chuck has issues liking himself and trent says shit once

@midnightpretenders0 @stormbornpirate

on ao3

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

Chuck had remained silent the entire time they had been sitting in the trainers room after the match. There had been too heated of a moment at ringside when the match ended for them to notice it, but when they got backstage someone had kindly pointed out that Trent had gotten cut at the brow at some point, so they were escorted to see the doctors, whether they wanted it or not. Chuck insisted that he was okay, apart from some mental wounds from yet another loss, only being worried about Trent right there and then.

As was tradition it seemed, Trent insisted on being okay, but complained the entire time he was being taken care of. Being walked to the medical, having to sit there, while they were cleaning up his wound and washing his face off of the excess blood, while he was being stitched up. Chuck watched all of this happen, not intervening, letting Trent get it out of his system.

When they were finally free to leave to get back to the locker room, Chuck just quietly accepted the ice packs from the trainers that Trent had left behind, knowing that he would bitch about leaving them behind later. Trent was clearly in a hurry to get out of there, being frustrated with the whole situation, which Chuck didn’t blame him at all about.

To be honest, Chuck only blamed himself for all of this. Even if it was indirect, he was the one that brought the team down by not being there to help Trent by breaking the pin, effectively causing them to lose the match. Not to mention since he wasn’t able to properly protect his partner, he had been bleeding by the end of it all.

Trent kicked the locker room door open, Chuck being kind of irked over the fact that it was only the two of them in the Best Friends locker room that night. He honestly would have felt very much the same if they had gotten those titles in their possession and had their friends there to celebrate with them, just with the opposite situation. 

But now Chuck had to deal with all of this by himself, when he wished someone more capable was around to handle the moment he didn’t feel like he was able to hold together for much longer.

Maybe the sigh he let out was a little bit louder than he intended, Chuck instinctively wincing as he saw the concern on Trent’s face following the sound as the other man turned to look towards him, stopping in the middle of his annoyed rant that Chuck hadn’t been listening to at all.

“What’s wrong?”

Chuck just shrugged, weighting the ice pack in his hands that he suddenly found more interesting than anything else in the room. “Just… Bummed about this. Losing, once again.”

Trent’s eyes narrowed slightly, knowing very well when his longtime tag partner was lying to him. Without saying anything he grabbed Chuck by the wrist, walking him to the couch and sitting him down, taking a seat next to him. Chuck didn’t resist, knowing full well that doing so was going to make him explain himself even further. At least this way he was able to try to mask the disappointment and self-deprecation he was currently feeling.

“This isn’t just about losing, is it?”

Chuck glanced at him, but didn’t say anything, avoiding looking at any clear features of Trent, eyes landing on his stitched up brow. He carefully lifted the ice pack in his hand and pressed it against Trent’s face, a small smile blossoming on his lips briefly as he sighed again.

“At least I’m good for one thing, huh?”

Trent remained silent for a moment, but it was obvious that the gears in his head were turning at the statement. “What are you talking about?”

“We lost the match. I couldn’t get back to the ring in time. Sorry about that.”

Chuck removed the ice pack from Trent’s face briefly, wincing at the line of stitches on his face before pressing the ice back against the wound. “And sorry about your face.”

“Dude, it’s not like it was you who made me bleed.”

He knew exactly what Trent meant, but it still wasn’t easy to hear and Chuck’s mind to accept. He looked away, feeling the guilt gnawing on him under his skin.

“Yeah… But I could have prevented that. And I didn’t.”

Trent looked at him, observed the clearly defeated demeanor of the other man for a while, before his hand reached for the ice pack and Chuck’s hand holding it, carefully pulling it off his face and lowering it down, taking the obstacle away from between the two of them so he could finally directly look at Chuck.

“It’s not your fault.”

Trent slowly peeled the ice pack from Chuck’s hand, putting it aside as he grabbed a hold of his hand, interlacing their fingers with one another with ease. Chuck slowly looked back at them, staring at their hands for a moment before he could feel Trent giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t care how many times we win, how many times we lose, how it happens or who’s fault it supposedly is. We’re best friends, dude. As long as we’re together, none of that shit matters.”

Chuck nodded, a small smile crossing his lips, followed by a soft chuckle.

“…Yeah. Yeah. Thanks.”

#drabble #character: trent baretta #character: chuck taylor #ship: chucktrent #aew fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction

[teabights]

Panic! At The Quinn Household

Summary: OC (could just pretend its reader) has a panic attack and Joe helps out the best he can (reference for the PA is just personal experience when I have them) (813 words)

Tags: soft joe, caring joe

Warning: Panic Attack, Fluff

"Jos, baby, are you okay? You haven't moved since I left this morning for an interview." Joseph comments

"I got up to pee." Josie responds with.

"Have you eaten anything?" Joseph asks. The long pause lets him know that she didn't. "Have you taken your meds?"

"I have to eat to take them." She whispers.

"I'll order some food for you. What would you like?" He asks. There is another long pause and he takes in a small breath before walking to the bed. He sits next to her, moving a hand to rub her side. "How can I help?"

"Just sit here for a moment." Josie speaks out quietly.

She moves a hand to take his, gripping it like her life depended on it. The quiet was nice to her. She knows that Joseph tries his best when she's like this. She adjusts herself to lay her head on his lap.

"I love you…" Josie whispers.

"I love you sweetheart." Joseph responds.

She lays there for a few more minutes. His hand just idly goes through her hair. His eyes are on her, looking like he was deep in thought.

"Did you miss yesterday's dose?" He asks quietly.

"No…" A lie from Josie, she's missed her last two doses.

"Jos… you only get like this when you don't take your medicine." He says.

"I forgot the last two days. I've been so busy with my studies starting back up and making sure you come home to a nice environment when you get off your late night of work. I also have been working so hard to be more of an active professor for my students. I just forgot." Josie responds quietly.

"Two days? Jos… do I need to start texting you again?" Joseph asks. When she started her medication, she'd forget to take it all the time, so Joseph started to text her at 6pm to take her medicine, whether he was physically with her or at work.

"Leave me alone." Josie says as she rolls off of his lap and lets go of his hand.

"Jos.." He starts.

"Please, just go." She mumbles.

"I'll be right back." He whispers to her.

She stays in bed as he gets up. She can hear the pitter patter of his walking grow quieter as he walks to the kitchen. She lets out a small sigh. The more she is in bed, the more she lets the negative thoughts consume her. Soon her tears came… then the breaths that she couldn't catch. Visible shaking is the next symptom. She tries to scream out for Joe, but nothing comes out. She keeps trying to catch her breath as her tears rolls down her cheeks. She pulls herself from the bed, almost falling at first. She pulls off the entire duvet with her. She walks down the hallway, looking for boyfriend. There he was, sitting on the couch.

"Hey ba-." He starts but his thoughts drop when he sees her crying.

She quickly moves to straddle his lap and wraps her arms around him, the blanket covering her back. His arms wrap around her tightly, rubbing her back in a soothing pattern. A lot of "shh" and "it's okay, I got you now" and "i am here baby girl." came from his mouth. He just holds her tightly as she continues to cry and try to catch her breath. Once it seems that she caught her breath, he steps into their calm down plan that they do every time.

"5 things you can see?" His voice was soft.

"Your chain, the couch, you, the painting we got in Rome, and the table." Josie whispers after pulling herself from laying flat against Joe.

"4 things you can feel?"

"The fibers of the blanket, your scratchy leg hair, your soft skin, and the fabric of the couch."

"3 things you can hear?"

"Your voice, the tv, and a slight buzz from the light bulb."

"2 things you can smell?"

"Eros and Tide."

"1 thing you can taste?"

"The air freshener… well you know the smell and taste are close related."

"I know. Good job."

Joe puts a small kiss on her forehead. She looks at him for a minute before leaning against him.

"Let me fix you a small bowl of ice cream. It has enough calories for you to take your medicine." Joe says as he squeezes her.

"O-okay." Josie says with a nod.

"Why don't you put on Stranger Things? I know Eddie is your comfort character." Joe slides the remote into her hand.

"I didn't mean to connect to Eddie. You just did so well with him. And he's totally my type." Josie says the last part with a small chuckle. She moves off of his lap, missing it already.

"Ha." His eyes rolls as he gets up from the couch to fetch you ice cream.

#joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn