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#my writng
strid3rofthen0rth · 16 hours
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I Accidentally Kicked a Rabbit, Murder Ensued
I don't know if you've ever raised rabbits for meat, but they're a viable option for that, in part, because they're exceedingly easy to feed, keep, and "process" -- kill, skin, and gut. (most wild rabbits also have almost no nutritional value, meaning you can go into "rabbit starvation" if that's all you eat, so, ya know, eat other stuff, too) Not important here. Point is, they're essentially made of tissue paper.
I often need an afternoon break between the day job and the wood shop, so I took the dogs out for yard shenanigans, our daily routine. One dog will play fetch until he dies of dehydration if you let him, the other, a hunting breed, fucks off to sniff everything in search of prey.
It's a set piece now. I get done with the daily fuck show, wasting my life typing for money, then we throw the tennis ball for him until my arm is gonna come off. The retriever, she ignores fetch, snuffs all the sniffs in the yard, hoping to find some sort of prey. She's so soft and adorable and dumb. Not a brain cell in her. Just having a gleeful time.
Today, while making my 48th(?) tennis ball throw, before the play-bows and excited yips of the fetch dog, something bounced off the top of my boot.
When I looked down, a bouncing ball of fluff appeared in my field of vision, traveling left to right. A rabbit tumbling across the yard, having caromed off my foot. Then another whizzing by. What the fuck is happening?
I looked over to my left to see the retriever with a dead rabbit in her mouth, blood on her face, in full chase of the others, one of whom had just bounced off my foot.
She can't find her ass with two paws. She's dumber than hell, but she has instincts and drive. Fuck yes.
I stepped back to get out the way, she juked the same way. There was a moment of staring into each others eyes as we fell. Star crossed idiots, chest to chest, me on my back. Then she dropped the first dead rabbit on my shoulder, and put on the afterburners I hadn't known she possesses.
She caught the last rabbit within a few feet of the barn, did the head shake, showed me the blood and entrails flailing around in the golden ratio.
Still has to be shown how to work the dog door every morning. Sometimes I have to wiggle my finger in her water bowl to remind her to drink. But the instincts remain.
She brought it back to me as a prize, elated, while I was still siting on my ass in a yard puddle. Nice to be around the driven huntings dogs I grew up with. Even if she is clueless.
I love her.
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lace-coffin · 4 months
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OMG the bondage head canons for Asa was so good!!!! I have another request for Asa with like angst/comfort? If that's okay 👉👈.
Asa with a reader who is clingy and affectionate after being punished by him. Like trying to cuddle with him discreetly and craving comfort and attention from him after they were bad? Idk if that makes any sense lol hopefully it does.
That’s totally ok!! I love writing for asa! Feel free to send more ideas if u wanna, it always makes my day < 3
Receiving comfort after a punishment
Asa Emory/the collector x gn reader
Requests are open!
Minors DNI
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quickly becoming Asa’s favourite in the collection and delving into a romantic relationship means you have extra freedom and perks compared to other unwilling guests. Avoiding punishment is not one of them.
Submission is non negotiable, you will serve him as your god and that’s final. Punishment hopefully won’t come to you often if you behave well enough but when it does it’s unavoidable.
Talking back and being bratty? You won’t be using that mouth at all for the next day/days, either spending hours gagged and drooling or only being allowed to speak when spoken to by your master. If you slip up and speak out of turn then an extra hour will be added to the punishment.
You can try plead your way out of it or run away but it’s futile, either you go on your own accord or your going slung over Asa’s shoulder with a red ass.
When it comes to punishments you’re done when Asa says you are. You can cry and beg all you want, that’s not his problem, if anything it fills him with sick delight. Aww it hurts? Good. That’s what disobedient toys who don’t know their place get. You have to learn somehow.
You’re left messy and worn out, floating gently in Subspace as sir cleans you up. He’ll cup your exhausted and red face, cooing at the hazy look in your eyes as he cleans your face from tears with a clean warm towel.
Once you’re clean and probably in one of his turtlenecks he’ll give you a water bottle or juice, helping you hold it up to your lips until he thinks you’ve had enough. He’ll also feed you some soft fruits or easy to eat snacks. He never used to be this soft until you entered the picture, digging out your own special spot in his cruel heart.
You’re always clingier than usual like this, still floating along the waves of Subspace and uncaring if you make a fool of yourself. Feeling vulnerable you cling to the only thing you know. Slowly scooting closer and closer to Asa thinking your being subtle (he knew the first time you got closer but finds it amusing so let’s you continue under the guise your being sneaky)until your laying against his side. “Silly pet” he laughs, petting your head affectionately.
Usually you’re a little more timid with your affection towards Asa but after a punishment you can’t find it in yourself to care, getting worked up and upset the longer you let your feelings fester without resolve.
Sometimes you’ll seem fine and stable but hours later Asa will find you curled up outside his door, sobbing and shaking. Needing to be close to your master but too nervous and distraught to take the final step of knocking and interrupting his work. You’re so worried he’ll be angry at you getting in the way of his work and will punish you for being too needy as a result of it (he would never, you’re just distraught and irrational rn lol) you knew you should’ve asked for more reassurance after today’s punishment but you thought you could pull through.
Asa opens the door and sighs, eyes wracking over your pitiful state. Without any words spoken he’ll scoop you up from your spot on the floor and move you both back to his desk, sitting your chest against his and your head on his shoulder. He’ll continue his work as he rocks you both slowly, humming until your tears stop and your head starts to droop more.
Being close with him like this always lets you know that you’ve been forgiven and the punishment is over. He still loves you and you’re still his favourite, his pretty little cricket.
Hi I hope u enjoyed this! Pls feed me more bug man requests/prompts anytime u like!
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the-oracles-maw · 7 days
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hesitancy
totally self indulgent trash
tw: implied past abusive relationship, power imbalance, this relationship isn't very healthy gang
Simon “ghost” riley x reader
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"Simon? Are you ready to go?"
Your fiancé briefly pauses from typing away at the home office laptop. He was totally engrossed in finalizing paperwork, you paid little mind to the details. You squeeze your arm, nervously, shuffling in the gown you've picked out for the night. Simon's old military buddies had invited you both to a charity event. Something for veterans. Your gown was a tank-sleeve, somewhat form fitting number, that cascaded down to your ankles. It was a deep, dark teal color, and from the sleeves, a sheer, sparkly black split "cape" cascaded down your back, past your feet and onto the floor.
"Mn... in a minute." Simon's response was blunt. Not even looking up from the computer screen, sending a pang in your stomach. Perhaps he was very, very focused. And you must've disturbed him.
Shaking out the dress shirt he's picked out for the evening, you lay it over the back of the chair, daring to speak up again. "We've gotta leave in about a half hour."
"Mn..." His grunt became a little louder, as if he was annoyed. Or, at the very least, aware of your presence, fingers flying away across the keyboard.
"Um...." You speak up, your voice barely above a whisper. "Do... do you want me to call John?" Wondering if perhaps Simon didn't want to go to the charity. He wasn't exactly a people-person, as you knew. Perhaps offering him an out would please him? You always did your best to please your stoic man. "I... I can tell him you're not feeling well and-"
"Nah," he responded, still not looking at you. "I'll be done soon."
With each passing moments, your posture grew more tense, your body language growing more demure, submissive. A defense mechanism you've picked up in the past, especially regarding the men in your life. If you read their minds, you thought, if you bent over backwards to please them, then...
Simon, on the other hand, had a decent idea of what he was doing to you, as you meekly muttered that you were going to wait for him in the living room. A surge of adrenaline rushes through him hearing your meek voice, a tingling that starts in his chest, and creeps into his loins. A power imbalance he doesn't exactly relish, but didn't do anything to put a stop to either, under the assumption that this was just how you were.
There was a time, that, perhaps, Simon was amused of how easily you submitted to him. A ghost (lol) of a smile curling up his lips, he finishes up the paperwork on the laptop, and closes it. Grabbing the dress jacket you left on the computer chair for him, he makes his way into the living room, where you waited.
You were still curled into yourself. Did Simon not like the dress? Was it too revealing? You'd pulled over a big, fluffy jacket over it. Your shoulders drawn to each other, pinching the bit of visible tummy from your dress. Simon's lack of comment or attention has clearly done a blow on your self-esteem.
Simon looked on, despite his massive size, entirely silent. Flickers of compassion watch over him as he watches your pick yourself apart. He's grown to expect your complete submission, but now without having complicated feelings for it. The man couldn't deny that there was something sickeningly endearing the way you modified your behavior on a whim just to please him.
Simon knows exactly why you cast aside your gaze whenever he enters the room, when he's anything less than beaming with happiness. He knows exactly why you pick at your tummy, why you scrunch your shoulders. He knows very well, that you're irrationally terrified of the man. "You alright?" Simon, aware of your anguished state, lowers his voice as he approaches you.
You straighten up as he approaches. Furiously rubbing your tear stained eyes and cheeks, you rise to meet him. "I'm okay, Si. I'm okay." The man isn't convinced, but he allows you to adjust the collar of his dress jacket and shirt.
"You sure?" Simon was starting to grow concerned. This power, he was used to it. The assumption that this was just how you were... Well... to say he wasn't beginning to crow a little concerned was an understatement. Did he do something to cause this? Did something frighten you?
He sadly, was disappointed, but not al ass surprised, when he placed his hands over yours to fix his collar himself, and you flinched.
He backs up, raising his hands in surrender, also raising an inquisitive brow at this extreme reaction. His eyes soften at your spluttering following words:
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I-"
"You're trembling." His deep, accented voice rumbled. It was softer than it had been all night. His hands hovered over yours, not quite touching them, but they just, barely graved over yours as they shook. Violently.
"Come, let's talk about this. Come sit, luv." He made sure to watch his tone. With your anguished mental state, you would certainly get the wrong idea if he asked you to do something for him. He sits next to you and begins. "Now, what's going on, huh? You scared of me?"
You don't answer.
It was answer enough.
That did anger him. but for your sake, that anger only simmered inside him. He's exploited people being afraid of him for so long. Came with being a master interrogator, of course. But to see his significant other shy away from him like this? Did you think the man was made of stone?
"Easy... easy..." His hands hover over your shoulders and chest as you pull yourself tightly together. Simon thought his ego would be thoroughly fed by the way you were acting. Perhaps, at one time. At one time. Not now.
"Just... breathe... alright? Breathe... Relax... Don't look at me like I'm about to strike you, luv. I'm not. You hear me?"
His tone is gentle, but firm. His hands hover over your face now, as if he wants to wipe away your tears, but doesn't. As if touching your face would drive you over the edge. His voice continues to whisper to you, enveloping your senses like a great blanket, until you've sufficiently calmed down. Giving you a small smile, Simon shed his jacket.
"Look, I'm not... liking what I'm seeing..." he motioned his hand in a circle around you. "here." He reaches over, making sure to touch the jacket and not you, pulling it off.
"Well won't you look at that... A sight for sore eyes, luv." You swear you saw him lick his lips. "Just makin' sure you know it ain't about the dress." He even gave you a small smile.
"Look..." he began. "I know I can be... well, fuck it, intense but..." A long sigh. "You? You're my partner. Not my fucking squamates." He was still whispering. "I don't want to have to come home to someone who looks like a tick about to fucking pop whenever they're around me."
You avert your gaze.
"No, come on, luvie, look at me." This time, he did touch you, the tips of his big fingers tilting your chin. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"
"I..." you start, your voice barely audible. "I don't know... why..."
"You know, just cause I'm military, don't mean I'm gonna smack you around, got me?"
"I know, I... I really don't know why I'm like this... I don't know why you scare me."
You cover your mouth as Simon gives you a slow nod. "I see. Don't say anything, luv." He reaches out his hand, unfurled, wanting you to take it. "Looks like we've got a little something to work on, yeah?"
He was right. This was something that was only going to worsen the more it was ignored. Instead of taking Simon's hand, you withdraw. Simon closes it and gives a proud nod. You needed to learn and shake the idea that due to your fiancé's career, that he had no intention to hurt you.
And Simon needed to swallow his pride, and read you better. Having you cater to every whims down to the way he breathes, is only going to brew fear and resentment, not love and respect.
"I think we should call it off, yeah?" Simon scoots in closer to you. Your sides were touching. "I don't think you're in any state to mingle about a bunch of people."
You agreed.
"Why don't you put on something cozy, I'll give John and the shrink a call, yeah?"
You were going to work on this. You weren't going to be mindlessly flighty around your man. And he was willing to put in the work himself to show you had nothing to fear? You were touched. Beyond touched.
Your face lights up, ever so slightly, and you speak, the clearest as you have that night. "Okay. Simon?"
"Hm?"
"Thank you."
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~the-oracles-maw~
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monpetitchattriste · 3 months
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Sharing this because I know nothing I write will ever top this line ever
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therainywriter · 8 months
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Welcome Home (Fluff)
Pairing: Art the Clown x Reader
It was a cold and unusually dark night. Art wasn't home, he’d been gone for a few days already. You faintly hoped he wouldn’t return, that things would go back to the way they were before he forced himself into your life.
Another part of you looked forward to seeing him again, to be caught under his intense gaze and lured into his arms. It was cruel how he deceived you with gentle touches and almost intimate stares.
Those soft moments switch in the blink of an eye. Little nibbles at your neck turn into harsh bites and tender caresses become a tight, painful grip. You’re starting to like it, seek it even.
You glanced down at the nasty green bruises on your thighs, exposed by your soft cotton shorts. He liked to leave an impression behind when he was going to be gone a while. Something to remember him by, though he was already certain you wouldn’t forget.
He had you wrapped around his slender, deadly finger and you didn't do a single thing about it. He was like an addiction, you couldn't just quit him though a part of you desperately wanted to.
It was strange how you were drawn to him, how the sick embrace of his arms brought you such strong sense of security. You were certain something was wrong with you and he was to blame.
He twisted your mind, your body, your entire being. 
Art was funny too, quiet the comedian when he was in a particularly good mood. You smiled to yourself at the though of his goofy shenanigans, an image of him standing at the door in sunflower sunglasses making you giggle.
He was so incredibly unpredictable. You could only hope that was the side of Art you’d see when he came home. 
Little did you know, he’d been standing at the doorway as you cleaned the kitchen counter, oblivious to him and lost in thought.
He tilted his head, observing you. A small smile ghosted your lips, a fond memory perhaps. He wondered if that little expression of happiness would disappear once you saw him.
Slowly, he made his entrance, careful not to startle you too quickly. He grinned, raising his hands to hover over your hips. You screamed as soon as he made contact and his grin only widened.
You gulped, catching your breath as Art picked you up and placed you on the counter you’d been cleaning. 
“That was mean,” you frowned, rubbing a bit at your chest. He waved off your complaint and stared at you, almost expectantly. Though you were unsure of what exactly he wanted.
His arms moved to either side of you and he leaned forward a bit, still standing tall as his head tilted. You were effectively trapped, if you tried to scoot back he’d only grab you.
“Welcome home Art,” you said, voice quieter than before as you looked up at him with nervous eyes. 
He shook his head, wrong answer.
His head was now level with yours, eyes staring holes into your own. The mood had shifted and you now felt a little ill.
You didn't think when you pressed your lips to his, feeling him smile against your mouth and move between your legs, closer to you. Right answer.
His hands moved to the back of your head and fingers tangled themselves gently in your hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck, gasping for air once he finally pulled away.
“Did you miss me?” you questioned, out of breath.
He nodded, wiggling his eyebrows before bopping your nose and moving around you to wander elsewhere in the house. You sat there for a moment more before getting off the counter and gathering your cleaning supplies. 
Art was home.
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momolady · 2 years
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Magnus the Siren
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Imagine if you lived next to one of the loudest people in the village. They're music and voice carry out almost like an enchantment. Now imagine this loud fellow had a certain affection for you. I also challenge you to guess who this character is based on.
Female Reader x Male Monster (both cis)
---------------------------------------------------
The disruption usually happens at dawn. Which, in itself, is aggravating enough to be woken up too. But it’s the music that wakes you up which is the most aggravating. You lay there in bed, staring up at your ceiling while a lute is strummed at such a high volume that the air is filled with nothing else but its raucous sound.
If that weren’t enough, the one playing the lute also had to sing. His voice carried through the morning air, causing the dew to shine and reflect light so brightly into windows, it was even harder to ignore.
It was by this point you would get up, throw on a robe, and step outside. Just beyond your guard there was a hill, and one that hill was a large, strange house that seemed to lean to one side. It was from there that music flowed.
“Shut up, Magnus!” You yelled this every morning. Sometimes you yelled other things, but this was usually the most uttered.
The singing stopped and the strumming of the lute became much softer. “Good morning, neighbor!” The music carried on and his song changed to start singing good morning to you.
You growled under your breath, turning back inside. You tried all you could without having to go into his presence.
For years no one lived in that strange house, then one day, out of the blue, that music started one morning. Every day at dawn Magnus rose and played his lute, singing his ridiculous songs until all the hillside was awake. Why some people liked him you could understand, but you never got onto that boat.
“So many of the girls in town love him,” you heard through whispers one day.
“He comes in, charms them, and leaves them lovesick puppies. Like nothing we have here is good enough for him,” another whisper scoffed.
You turned to listen to the conversation, curious as anyone would be. You hadn’t met Magnus yet, but you certainly had heard enough about him. Though this bit of gossip was all new to you.
“He got to my girl!” One whisper exclaimed. “She’s not looked at me twice since. All she does is sing and dance around.”
“What a cad. Going after someone’s broad like that,” the other whisper snarled.
You frowned at this, gently setting down what you were looking at and walked away. “Serves him right to lose her to that singing loon,” you thought to yourself. “Talk shit like that, you shouldn’t be surprised when it falls into your lap.” As a butcher, you knew what ‘broad’ really meant.
A few days later, you would meet Magnus for yourself; during the summer festival and parade. The main part of town was packed and overflowing with people. You were scooting along the street, trying to get to your shop at the end of town. But it was growing more and more difficult to traverse the farther you went. People became thicker packed the more you went, so you decided to go the long way around, hopping off main street, and going down a small alley.
There was a small cluster of people leaning against one of the walls. As you approached, one thrust out their hand to you.
“Got any spare change, ducky?” The young man asked with a forceful tone, but the others sniggered as they came off the wall.
Pickpockets and other thieves were always busy during the festivals. It surprised you little to come across some going down an alley.
“Afraid I’ve already given my charity for the day.” You continued to walk, but your path was cut off.
You sighed heavily and glanced back towards the man who still had his hand out. “I have no money. You are more likely to get something from a stone than you are me.”
You were becoming encroached upon, and the helpless feeling of being unable to move crept in. You felt lucky, after all, you had taken home your best knife the night before to properly sharpen. You just hated the thought of dulling it before you got to work.
“I’m sure you’ve got more than nothing,” the thief laughed. “Everyone has something today.”
You were ready to pull out your knife when a laugh filled the narrow alleyway. “My goodness, such a crowd. Such a crowd!”
A tall figure towered over the pickpockets at the back. “Beg your pardon. Beg your pardon,” the new person laughed. “Ah yes, thank you,” he chortled as the crowd parted for him.
He was huge, broad like a barn and probably just as tall. From behind, his feathered arms shone with deep green and gold, and at the top of his head was a red comb.
“Neighbor!” He announced loudly. “So good to see you here.” He came up towards you, placing his hands upon your shoulders. “We’ve not been properly introduced!”
“Excuse me,” the thief snarled.
Magnus turned, looking back at him. “Yes, hello there!”
You glared up at him, hand still readied on your knife under your skirt. “They’re thieves” you whispered between clenched teeth.
“Leaves? What leaves! It’s summer!” Magnus laughed merrily. He then winked at you. “No need to go stabbing at leaves after all, not when they are in midair.”
You were taken by surprise! How could he know?
The thief grabbed Magnus’ shoulder. “We were talking to the lady first.”
“Ah, I see,” Magnus turned slightly. “Forgive my manners. Sometimes I can’t help but forget them. I have had this song sung stuck in my head, you see, and nothing else seems to get through to me when that happens.” He turned around, shoving the thief’s hand off his shoulder.
“Tell me, have you heard this tune?” Magnus began whistling, and while the tune is familiar, you weren’t sure you’ve heard it before.
“That’s it-” The thief went to swing, but his feet began to float up. He flipped upside down, as did all the other pickpockets in the alley.
You noticed too that you were starting to lift up and be carried like a dandelion seed into the air.
“Don’t worry, neighbor! I have you!” Magnus grabbed your hand, pulling you away like a child with a balloon.
Above you could see the pickpockets floating above the buildings, they were screaming, but couldn’t be heard over the caucus of the parade.
“What did you do?” You shouted at Magnus, your legs now far above your head. You tried to fight with your skirt, but it was a losing battle.
“They’ll come down safely! Not to worry,” Magnus guffawed. “Did you see their faces? That was wonderful!”
“You’re crazy!”
“And you’re unharmed.” He took you towards your butcher shop, despite the looks you received along the way.
Once you were at your store you floated down to the ground.
“There now, right as rain.” Magnus smiled. His beak was shining gold, and his gray eyes still shone brighter.
You smoothed down your clothes and looked at him, unsure if you should be annoyed or grateful. “Thank you, I suppose. Even if your method was maddening.”
Magnus tilted his head to the side. “You didn’t like it?”
“I would have been fine, but I am grateful I didn’t have to resort to my method.” You then pouted. “Yours was the safer option.” You searched your deep pockets trying to find your keys.
“I’d say a bloodbath on such a magnificent day would be a mood killer.” Magnus hummed and your front door opened.
You stared back up at him, stiffening your back and narrowing your gaze. “I’ll let that slide for your help today. But before you go, do you mind if I ask you a question?”
Magnus laid both feathered hands upon his barreled out chest. “I love questions, especially about myself.”
You took a step closer to him. “You play that lute every morning and sing as loud as hell; what the hell for?”
Magnus smiled brightly. “So that my sun will rise.”
The sun rose with or without provocation. But if that was his reasoning, you at least had something. “That’s all?”
Magnus nodded. “As far as I know.”
You sighed, unsatisfied with the answer, but pleased to have one. “I owe you a thanks. If there is anything I can do for you, I owe you a favor.”
“Wonderful!” He cheered. “I will certainly keep that in mind.”
You smiled faintly then went into your shop to begin the day and he went on down the street, happily singing to himself.
Summer came and went, and the first signs of fall began with a slight shift in color outside. Crisp mornings were becoming a welcomed pleasure. And your shop was getting more and more orders for marrow bones so that people could make stocks for the oncoming cold.
One afternoon, as you were finishing packing up such bones to send with your delivery boy, Magnus walked in.
“Good afternoon, neighbor!” He announced himself quite loudly.
You were wrapping up a bone with twine and wax paper. “Magnus, long time no see. Good to know there is still a body attached to that voice of yours.”
Magnus chuckled smugly. “As my neighbor, you must get the music while it is still fresh and warm, like a loaf of bread. Others in town must hear it when it is stale.”
You grunted in reply, attaching a tag to the wrapped marrow bone. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I’ve come to collect that favor you owe me.”
You had almost forgotten about it. It had been months ago, and nothing had been spoken between the two of you since; aside from the usual neighborly things.
“That’s right,” you murmured. “I’m a bit busy right now is it possible to-”
“Oh heavens not now. I only just thought of it! I came here while it was still on my mind, because sooner or later I would forget and keep putting it off and-”
“Magnus,” you chimed to get him back on track. “Just tell me.”
“Oh right!” His chest fluffed out and he swooped his wing over his waist. “I would like you to make me dinner.”
“But I’m not a cook,” you said plainly. “I’m a butcher.”
Magnus’ smile became sweeter, and those bright gray eyes took on a puppy-like appearance. “But you can still make a meal, right?”
You wiped your hands on your apron. “I suppose.”
He raised two long fingers. “Then you can make a meal for two? Yes?”
“Possibly.” You eyed him, letting a smile grow. “Might I ask why this is the favor you’re coming for?”
Magnus waved his finger. “I think that’s a conversation for dinner. Don’t you? Just so we’ll have something to break the ice. I know you're off on Sundays, will that be okay for our supper?”
You sighed, but your smile grew. “As good as any.”
“Wonderful!” He cheered. “I will arrive with bells on.”
Knowing him, you thought, he probably would. You started to turn back to your work, but Magnus approached the counter again.
He started speaking very intensely. “By the way, I know this may hinder you, maybe even offend you considering your business, but I don’t eat meat.”
You looked him up and down. “You don’t eat meat?”
“I do not eat it,” he said sincerely.
You clicked your tongue. “Well, alright. I’ll figure something out I suppose.”
Magnus beamed again as he stood upright. “Wonderful! Thank you so much for the consideration. I look forward to what you can do.”
You were no cook, at least nothing special. You knew how to make meat and potatoes taste good to you. This would be a whole new chore.
You managed to get a couple of recipes from some of the grannies who visited your shop a lot. One gave you her special vegetable broth recipe. Another provided you with her garlic rolls recipe. Then another gave you an eggplant and how to cook it. All of them adored Magnus and were eager to try and impress him vicariously through you.
“What on earth does this guy do to these ladies?” You grumbled as you kneaded the dough for the rolls. The garlic was exceptionally strong, almost spicy in the air. “I know his music has some sort of power, maybe that’s his game.”
Just as you had placed the eggplant into the oven, there was a knock upon your door.
“Geez,” you huffed, wiping your hands on your apron. “Who could this be?” You walked across the kitchen to the door, finding Mgnus standing there tuning his lute.
“It's way too early!” You exclaimed out of shock.
“I know, I came to bask in your warm company.” Magnus let himself in, sitting at the kitchen table which was still covered in flour from when you rolled the dough for the garlic rolls.
“I haven’t even cleaned up yet, you’ll get flour on you!” You tried to shoo him away but he started playing his lute.
“What is your most favorite song in the world?” Magnus asked, oblivious to your efforts to wipe up the table.
“What’s yours?” You asked, finally able to sweep away the flour without hitting him.
He plucked the strings on his lute and thought deeply. “Sweet rose, sweet dew drop.”
“Sounds saccharine.” You sighed. “But if you must play, play.”
Magnus was smiling, tuning the lute again. “Do you not like my playing, neighbor? You seem annoyed.”
“I hear your music every morning. I hear it loud and clear as if you are inside my head.”
“But do you like it?”
You cut your eyes at him. “If I didn’t hear it exploding in my bedroom each morning, maybe I would.”
“You wake each morning to my songs,” he hummed softly. He strummed and hummed, going soft and quiet unlike what you were used to.
“I do.” You go back towards the oven. “You told me once why you do it, but I still find it a bit odd.”
“My sun,” he sang softly. “I want her to rise. I want to open her shining eyes. She lights up my day and it is night when she’s gone. I’m singing to her in hopes of my dawn.”
“That’s lovely,” you murmured. “But still odd. The sun rises and falls no matter what we do.”
Magnus smirked towards you. “You think so?”
Something about his gaze made your stomach flop upside down. “Isn’t that how it works? After all, it’s more powerful than us.”
“She is,” Magnus spoke softly again. He then perked up, his comb rising high on his head. He then looked at you excitedly. “What have you made for dinner?”
“Oh, well, I had some help from some of the grannies you come to my shop,” you replied. “I have a vegetable stew, garlic rolls, and some sort of eggplant thing.”
“Eggplant thing?”
You made an awkward smile. “I followed the recipe, but I’m still not sure what it’ll turn into.”
Magnus laughed. “You really aren’t a cook.”
“Not at all.”
Despite all your hostility and annoyance with him because of his morning singing, you found yourself drawn to him. He didn’t have to sing or play his music, but there was definitely an allure he had. This may have been the same charm that all the other women in town were attracted to. Even as you fed him, he didn’t complain. The eggplant was awful, but he still ate it regardless.
As he left to go home, he turned in the doorway to look at you. “When I sing in the morning, will you listen to me?”
You were a bit surprised. “I mean, I always have to.”
Magnus shook his head. “No. I mean listen.”
You weren’t sure what he meant, but you nodded as bid him goodnight.
Come morning, you were woken by the sound of his lute being strummed. Still loud as ever, but somehow it sounded so much softer than all other mornings. His voice, too, sounded lighter and airier.
From that morning onward, his music sounded sweet and calming. You woke up gently rather than annoyed. And to your surprise, one morning, you walked outside and yelled.
“Good morning, Magnus!”
“Good morning, neighbor!” he crowed back with a sound of triumph.
A few days later, just as you were closing up shop, Magnus came through the door. “I was wondering if I could walk you home?” He asked.
You pushed a loose lock of hair from your face. “What for?”
Magnus smiled. “Do I need a reason?”
You sighed and went along. You were silent at the start of the walk, but as he started to hum a question rose in your mind.
“Has your music changed? Because it is nowhere near as annoying as it used to be,” you said.
“I’ve not changed it in the slightest. I did ask you to listen though.” He placed a wing around you back, settling his hand on your arm.
You watched his dark fingers on your sleeve then glanced back into his gray eyes. “Then tell me what you are doing.”
“Doing?” He asked.
“All the women, and some men, in this village have some level of attraction or fascination to you. Is that what you are trying to do with me?” You said pointedly.
“Oh gosh,” he said in thought. “I’m not trying to woo anyone. I’m just nice to everyone. I treat them like I want to be treated. You’re the only one I’ve been trying to woo.”
Your stomach flopped again. “You’re teasing me!”
“I told you, I always sing to raise my sun.” There was no irony to his tone, no sense of teasing. He was being honest.
“Me?” You exclaimed. “I’m the sun?”
Magnus tilted his head to the side. “You didn’t get that?”
“No!” You blurted.
He sighed and dipped his head down. “Oh gosh, I’m no good at these kinds of things. I thought I was being clear.” He pouted a bit. “You’re just my type. It’s part of why I got that weird house on the hill. So I could be close, maybe see you in the morning-” He started to get embarrassed. “But all I can do is sing.”
You cocked up a brow in shock. “Type?”
Magnus went silent, going from slightly shy to very shy. “Well yeah.”
“And what would that be?”
He looked away, his smile faint, and his expression demure. He shifted a bit, taking a step back from you. “You’re a little mean and bossy,” he muttered.
“Should I be offended?” You grumbled.
He shook his head. “I mean that in a good way. I know I don’t look it, being as tall as I am, but I like to feel like I am small and-” Magnus shut his beak and turned away.
“So-” You tried to piece this together as best you could. “You like me because I make you feel this way?”
He nodded.
“Well, this wasn’t what I was expecting,” you huffed.
“I don’t mean to make this sound weird. I really do like you for much more than my own oddities.” He fidgeted with his fingers. “You’re strong and witty, your not afraid of anything. But you’re also tender and sweet, and you have such a nice...shape.” It sounded like he had more to say, but he decided to end it with that one word.
You pressed your lips together and looked at the ground. “You have a nice shape yourself.”
Magnus chuckled, then you chuckled.
“Maybe we can show off each other’s shape one day,” Magnus said shyly. “If you’d like such a thing.”
“Not tonight, maybe Sunday?” You suggested.
His eyes widened and he turned to you with a look of shock. “You really-you would-you are-” He couldn’t get out what he wanted to say.
“Maybe this time you could make dinner?”
“Okay!” He exclaimed happily. “Come over whenever you’d like!”
You still weren’t exactly sure on what to take in. You just knew you held an excitement in your chest that didn’t go away until Sunday morning. You heard him singing on his hill, and that excitement burst, turning into urgency and nerves.
You waited as long as you could before heading up the hill. It was still a bit early for dinner, but had shown up early to your home as well. Once he opened the door you knew you came at the right time.
“Good! You did come!” Magnus pulled you inside.
“I was bored anyways,” you said nervously.
Magnus gripped your hand. “Let me give you a tour.” He took you through the odd house, which was larger inside than you expected.
Most of the rooms were filled with musical instruments, sheet music, and long scrolls tucked into vases and buckets. Up in the tower was his room, which he took you to with a proud look on his face. He showed you the balcony where he played his music each morning. From that perch you could see your house below.
“You really are singing to me.”
Magnus nodded. “I like seeing you walk out your door every morning. I often wonder what you’re doing or how you wake up.”
You look him over then stare back into the room. “Your bed is much bigger than mine, but I could show you.”
Magnus swallowed. “Really?”
You took hold of his hand and led him over to the bed. You made him lay down upon his back and placed his hands upon his chest. “I lay like this when I go to sleep. Although; come morning I’m on my side.” You then crawled on top of him, straddling your thighs around his waist.
Magnus gulped and his feathers on his chest fluffed up. “Do...do you usually wake up feeling heavy?”
You shook your head. “No. I just did this to get you here.” You leaned down, kissing his beak and down to his cheek. Magnus ruffled and moaned, arching his back as you drug your hands down his chest.
“I see. I like that,” he laughed.
You opened up his shirt, stroking down the sleek feathers that went from black-green to golden ginger. “You’re quite colorful. It’s lovely.”
Magnus nodded, holding his breath as your hands explored his body. You rolled your hips, rubbing yourself against the front of his trousers.
“I hope you don’t think I’m being too forceful,” you murmured.
He shook his head. “Just the right amount of forceful.” He opened his eyes back up to look at you. “I was hoping this would happen. Although I’m a bit embarrassed by that thought.”
You kissed his beak again then placed your hand around his throat. “What else were you hopeful for.”
He shivered at your touch, moaning loudly then sucking in his breath. “Just uhm-” He wiggled beneath you, rubbing himself against you. “Just that you would uhm-”
You moved your hand away.
“Play with me!” He yelped and you placed your hand back. “Play with me-” he moaned again. “Like I’m your own personal toy.”
You smirked. “How fun. Anything else?”
His eyes moved towards a small chest sitting by his bed. You picked it up, setting it on his chest as you looked through. Inside there were a few strange objects, one was small and bulbous, maybe of a black shining stone. There were two phallic-shaped crystals, one was a clear quartz and had small ball shapes through the shaft. The second was bigger, made of rose quartz, and flared at the base and was wattahced to a leather belt.
“Should I use these before I use you?” You teased.
Magnus fidgeted again. “I’d love to watch but-”
Inside the chest was also a flask filled with olive oil. “You’re excited today. I get it.” You lifted yourself off  him, sitting by his side as you undid his belt and tugged down his pants.
Since he was a type of siren, his anatomy below was a little different. There was a growth that rose from his loins, along with a small opening. You trailed your fingers around the opening, which felt warm and wet within.
Magnus gasped and his back rose from the bed. You slipped a finger inside, feeling him tighten around you while his voice became much higher and more aroused.
“You’ll be very fun to play with, Magnus.” You panted as you moved your finger inside. You added another finger, which made him whimper and throw his head back.
“There now.” You pulled out your fingers then rose from the bed to undress. Magnus watched you with awe, his eyes gazing down your body. Your arms and back were strong from your work as a butcher, so you never felt quite pretty until his eyes landed upon you. In his gaze you felt like a beauty.
“I knew you’d be stunning,” he panted.
You put on the leather belt and Magnus’ eyes became dewy. You poured olive oil into your palm, rubbing the shaft like it was your own.
As Magnus watched you climbed back onto the bed and threw his legs over your shoulders. He whimpered as the rose quartz touched against him.
“I’ll go easy, but I have a feeling you’re used to this.” You watched in awe as the rose quartz disappeared inside him. He cried out and you bit your lip.
Magnus started singing a new song. His voice peaked and rang out as you drove the rose quartz inside him. Your own wetness grew as you watched him. His body writhed in such a sweet, docile way. Eventually you couldn’t take it anymore.
You took off the belt and left the rose quartz inside him. You mounted him again, taking his shaft inside you.
“Yes!” Magnus cried out. “You’re all around me.” His hands gripped around your thick waist. “All you!”
You rutted on top of him, feeling him warm and hard inside. You pressed your hands to his belly, taking leverage as you began moving.
“Oh my sun!” Magnus cried. “My shining, glorious star! Take me! All of me!”
You moaned and reached out, placing your hand around his throat. “You’re mine. You’re all mine.”
Magnus grinned with glee, bucking his hips upward inside you. You cried out, throwing your head back and letting your hair spill around your shoulders. You reached back, thrusting the rose quartz inside him. He bucked harder, whimpering pitifully, even starting to cry.
Something inside you was rising. It was coming fast and hot inside your belly, shooting through your chest. You and Magnus were singing together, duetting as this rising sun inside you began to spill out.
You shivered, thighs tightening around Magnus. The rose quartz slipped from inside him, and he whimpered as tears rolled from his gray eyes. You leaned forward, falling onto his barreled chest and laying there as his shaft popped out from inside you.
You both laid in silence. You breathed in sync until it felt like you were fading from this world. Magnus’ wings wrapped around you and he started singing softly.
“My sun, I want her to rise. I want to open her shining eyes. She lights up my day and it is night when she’s gone. I’m singing to her in hopes of my dawn.”
You smiled and nuzzled to his chest. “I love your song,” you murmured.
“Finally,” he chuckled.
947 notes · View notes
Baby │ JJ Maybank Imagine
Request: hey! First off love your work! I saw that you wanted tiktok trend requests so could you naybe do the trend where you tell your bf that you want a baby with jj?
Authors Note: Hello! Thank you so much for supporting me and my silly writing. I added the photo that I would use for JJ’s contact.I hope you enjoy reading!
Warnings: Hints for underage drinking, swearing.
Word Count: 634.
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Giggling, you shove Kiara away from you and your phone.
“Y/n! You’re drunk and its girl’s night which is two very good reasons not to have your phone.”
“Too late…I already hit send!”
Kiara closes her mouth when your phone starts ringing and you start smiling. “Should I not answer?”
“JJ would blame us, so no.” Sarah says and asks you what exactly you said in the first place to make your boyfriend call you instead of texting back.
“I told him I want a baby.” 
“But he is a big baby!” Cleo states and the other girls agree with hums, thinking just how true that statement is.
Your phone stops ringing before the picture you have for John B contact pops up on your phone screen and the ringing starts again. You press on the green button. “Hey baby.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You don’t care if your boyfriend can hear you laugh silently, you can’t help it as he yells, and his voice goes in a higher pitch you have ever heard. “You know I’m using John B phone, right? Do you call him baby?”
Another voice in the background yells a no as you say, “I know you baby and knew you would find a way to talk to me.”
JJ huffs. “Ah yes well excuse me if I thought my phone was broken when I read your text but then thought your phone is the broken one.”
“If it was, how could I be talking to you-“
“Do not give me your sass right now or your ass will have handprints on it. Now tell me why the fuck you would text me that you want a baby.”
“I saw this TikTok a couple of days ago where this girl texted her boyfriend it. You had to ruin it by calling instead of texting your response!”
“I don’t have a response!” but he does mutters, “I hate TikTok.”
“I know you do…. baby.”
You don’t need to see his face to know he is trying to hide a smile. But you can hear it in his voice when he says, “You can call me that if you stop with the stupid TikTok trend pranks.”
“Never going to happen baby. I got to keep you on your toes.”
He chuckles.  “You are doing too good of a job.”
“I know. But before you go, I do have a question.” He doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “Would you want a baby one day? With me?”
The silene on the other end makes you check that the call is still connected. It is. “JJ?”
“Yes. Only with you, baby. Not any day soon though, okay? I know you would be the greatest, awesomest, and loveliest mother ever and I really want to be a part of all of the est. But I know with all of my shit, I’m not ready yet. We are both too young and reckless. Well, mostly me but you get what I’m saying, right?”
“Right.”
“Right. Good, right, okay. I love you.”
“I love you too, JJ. Now if you it’s okay with you, I am going to watch some TikTok’s with the girls.” You laugh with him and after saying good night, you hang up.
A few minutes later, when you are scrolling through your Tikok fyp, a text pop up.
“I’m your baby. You’re my baby. That’s all I need right now.”
The girls see it and start planning out loud how long exactly they will wait to make fun of him for being so cute and a simp. You don’t text back but do take a screenshot. Not for a TikTok. To look back on it whenever you want to.
Maybe one day you will print it and put it in a baby album.
Taglist (ask to join!)  @jjmaybankzz @afterglowsb-tch13 @moniamaybank @scandalousfemale @heysimps @fives-cup-of-coffee @mahleeyuh @jjmaybanksbaby @maddiebee2019 @softstarkey @pixelated-pogues @mrsmaybankhere @drewsephrry @cognacdelights @ssjiara @jjaybank @ilovejjmaybank @collectiveuniverses @bxllasanosa @jellyfishbeansontoast @dpaccione @jiaraendgame @poguestyleskye @jeyramarie @all-american-fangirl @obxmxybxnk @talksoprettyjjx @pit-zuh @loveop5500 @jjsbxtch @jjpouggues @jjstoothpick @alanniys @loveyru  
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wolfboy88 · 5 days
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Seven Sentences Sunday / Tease Tidbit Tuesday / WIP Wednesday
Thanks for the various tags during the week @ksbbb @maplesyrizzup @outcastpack
I swear I wasn’t ignoring you, I just had covid. But I’m feeling better now 😊
So, I’m gonna kick off this weeks Seven Sentences Sunday with more from the Killing’s a Scream Sequel.
Liam licks his lips, grinning. “Time to put on a show.”
Theo nods, captivated.
“Help!” Liam shouts as he slashes Theo’s arm.
Theo hums in pleasure as pain ripples through his body when Liam cuts his cheek. He smiles at Liam and shouts as if in pain to make it convincing.
“Help!” Liam shouts again and slashes Theo’s thigh.
Theo shouts a moment later, both hearing Parrish banging on the front door.
“Liam?”
“Parrish!” Liam shouts, sounding desperate and panicked as Theo shudders when Liam grasps him by the nape, giving him one of his sweetest smiles.
“Do you trust me?” Liam murmurs softly.
“With my life,” Theo replies instantly.
“Sorry about this,” Liam mutters.
Theo’s eyes widen as he feels excruciating pain on his left side, leaving him breathless. He gasps, clutching onto Liam’s arm as he sees the knife handle protruding from his side.
Tagging @arewordsenough @transdunbar @thiamsxbitch @theoceanismyinkwell @rd-eternity @rhyslahey @mmoosen @shinigamimailjeevas @chasing-chimeras @equallyloyalandlethal @ksbbb @maplesyrizzup @outcastpack
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remaking-machine · 19 days
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Polishing Chapter 6
And it made me feel things.
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That's not even the half of it
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spookylizpg · 6 months
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What It Is To Be A Grandmaster (PART 2: SubSmoke Fanfic)
WOOOOO- I finally did it. I made a full on NSFW Smut writing. Gosh, it has been years since my first one so this could be rusty anyway. I tried my best with at least, to make it a good read. I hope you guys enjoy these two having fun in bed. lol This is smut so of course, +18 ONLY. Enjoy ~ <3
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Tomas' hands fastened against the top of the bed frame with his Grandmaster's head bandage. He observes his lover gradually beginning to yank his clothes off. Start from the top, leaving soft kisses on his tender collarbone. Kuai Liang's hand gripping on Tomas' alluring waist. Concentrate on his chest, pretty much admiring his smokey lover. He couldn't restrain himself. He must have a taste. Licking his lips, he pounced his first attack on his poor chest. He could hear his precious lover letting out a lovely moan from under his breath. It exhilarates him, and he loses himself with the bite he takes on his soft skin. His hands freely explore his upper body as the cryomancer plays around with his lover's hardened nipples. Toying with Smoke's mind and his body was the only thing on his mind now as he nibbled on them. He felt his Smoke's back arching and moving around. He could feel his lover in such an ache yet sweet melody to his ears. 
"Quit moving, sweetheart. . ." Kuai Liang uttered, "Or I will have to freeze you fucking still-"
To prove he wasn't joking around. His hands began to feel freezing to the touch. Smoke expresses the sudden change with a sharp cry. It echoes within the master bedroom and how it sounds nicely. 
"Good boy." He whispered softly
"Aren't you such a good boy to your Grandmaster?" He looked up to him, and Smoke's expression was in ecstasy. 
"Love, I think you open something in me..." Kuai Liang went close to Smoke's face, "I'm enjoying you like this...I want to..."
Understandably, He couldn't finish the statement. He couldn't abide just watching anymore. He desires to relish it and his lover as quickly as possible. Grandmaster's cold lips were against his lover's. Smoke immediately took it, moaning ever so passionately with every pause for air.
"Moan for me, my love...I want to hear you scream for me!" Kuai Liang began groping Smoke's chest. Still, his hands were icy cold. Tomas did what he asked of him. He cried his name as his mouth began to drool. The intensity on his body was just too much for him.
"Such a mess...but you're my mess..." 
He left a kiss on the cheek as he went back to his waist. 
"I bet you're a mess down there too, huh?"
One of his hands broke out of the groping session and went right to his crotch. Kuai Liang began to chuckle as he peeked up. 
"So fucking hard..." 
He gave it a little squeeze
"Oops."
Smoke's head tilts up as he moans once more. 
"F...f...uc" 
"hmm?" Kuai leans over to Smoke and smirks at him.
Smoke attempts to make some words, and he looks back at him. He tries to lean into his cold lover's face to the point he can whisper to him. 
"fu....fuck me..." Smoke finally uttered his words, "Please give....me no mercy...I deserve this. fuck me rough, please. M-master, I beg of you-" and this excited Kuai Liang in his core. 
"I'm glad, but regardless," Scoffing that off as both his hands slowly took off Smoke's bottom clothes. "That was the plan, to fuck you with no mercy. Make you into a sobbing fucking mess. To fuck you and that mind of yours until you can't think anything but me having my way with you. Don't think a damn second you have some order here, got it?"
Smoke nodded as he let his master do what he pleased with his body. He put back into his place. Once the clothes had taken off, Sub Zero admired his lover's body. My, he was obsessed with his body. For a moment of peace, he thought himself lucky to have a man like him. Smoke's body is a masterpiece to the cryomancer. Smoke's frame and his curves are what drives Sub Zero all lustful. 
"Look at you...oh my."
Kuai Liang touches the tip of his lover's erect cock. 
"So hard...it's all because of me..."
Teasing Smoke, he began stroking his cock up and down delicately. Smoke arched his back as he was getting jacked off. He suddenly pauses and shakes his head. Smoke looks at him in misery, moaning for more. 
"Who said you get to cum first? Silly you- You'll have to wait...If you don't...then" He sighed, "I'll spank you to death- or worse. No more of this until you learn to be fucking patient." Kuai Liang chuckled as he looked at Smoke's tied hands. 
"Now then, time to put you in a different position. I want to see that ass of your move when I thrust my cock into you."
The Grandmaster began to untie him and place Smoke lying on his stomach. Smoke too fuck to be able to freely move anyway, just letting his master take control. Once done, he tied his hands up again. This time, he placed them behind his back. Sub Zero could feel his pants tighten when he saw Smoke's gorgeous back. Placing his cold hands on his back, having them massages his whole body until he finishes on his ass. Without warning, he smacks Smoke's ass. Leaving a soft pink imprint on it, Tomas answered with a gasp. 
"I love your ass, sweetheart..." Kuai Liang began to grope his ass intensely. "I know much you tease me with it."
He spanks it again. 
"Always damn teasing with it."
Spanking even rougher than before, listening to Smoke in a moaning mess.
"Don't think I didn't notice how you walk by when I'm around. Love, believe me. I would stop and drop what I was doing to fuck you right then and there. To teach you a lesson for teasing your Grandmaster like that."
With the amount of hard spanks he hit, the imprint turned into a bright red. Smoke breathed heavily as his eyes were practically rolled back. In the brink of a complete mindfuck. Tomas' lust was at an all-time high that it became excruciating. His body was already heating up. His cock was pulsing like wild. Yet, he needs to follow his Grandmaster's order. He must wait until his icy lover is done satisfying himself. 
"Your body...is mine now-"
Kuai Liang began to undress himself for what was to come next. All the while, Smoke was glancing at him with an intense expression.
"Sweetheart, don't give me that." The now-naked Kuai Liang comments, "I have to show you what happens when you tease. You're going to take it like a good obedient boy you are, or I'll fucking make you, no matter."
Kuai Liang began to spread Smoke's legs apart to give him more room. He saw perfection as his hands spread his ass cheek a bit apart. Sub Zero plays around his anus, fingering around the entrance. Smoke arched his bottom as he felt his master toying with him again. He could feel his cold finger touching such a sensitive area. Even feeling him insert them inside, making Smoke groan. 
"You make me so hard...that ass of yours...so irresistible-"
A smack echoed once more in the Grandmaster's chamber. Kuai Liang got close in and gave a kiss on his ass cheek. Finally, he spits on his hand and caresses his cock. He could have shown a bit of compassion and used some lube. Yet, this whole session is anything but that. Without warning to Tomas, Kuai Liang latches on to his waist and rams his dick into him. Sub Zero's thrusting was mere forceful at best. Shoving it in and out as Smoke's ass tries its best to keep up with the rhythm. Due to Smoke being a little tied up, he obviously had trouble moving his hands freely. The desperate need to touch his lover or feel him is also troublesome. Yet, it didn't stop him from being an absolute moaning mess. Screaming his master's name at times. Even tears were shed, but a pillow to the face will do. Kuai Liang began whispering to him. 
"Fuck, my cock feels so good inside you. I'm giving you what you deserve. Seeing you in pure bliss yet with a hint of discomfort is what I relish. Love the sound of my hips hitting your ass. Every thrust I go in, the more you fucking lament my name!" 
The Grandmaster began to pick up the pace. He went barbaric with his thrusts. Moving Smoke's hips or waist to help him rather than helping Smoke keep a balance. Tomas's entire body began to shake to its core. The unbearable lust he felt and the suffering he couldn't release. 
"You're just falling apart, huh? Oh, my love...my everything- If you're a good boy, you must wait, okay?" Once said, he began to nibble on his neck. Hearing his lover beg and whine. It sounded so cute to him. 
"Please master...I beg of you!" he called out, but it only fueled the jabs to be deep into him. Smoke gasping as his back arched even more. 
"You...in me....fuck! I want to cum with you...Please-!!" Smoke whined again. 
"Kuai L-liang, please...my ass hurt so bad...your cock is..so..so big...." Tomas kept on going with his rant. Mumbling as his words fell apart and leaning into moaning mostly. 
"Hmm, ple...ase...let me cu..." Smoke felt fingers shoved in his mouth. His eyes widen, then he glances at his Grandmaster.
"Shut it."
( Note: This isn't the hand he toys with Smoke. This is a clean hand. lol )
Smoke virtually melts into those words. Smoke began sucking on Sub Zero's fingers. It wasn't much, but at least it eased the pain. Tomas' drooling was all over the sheets and those fingers. Somehow, it really turns on Sub Zero, feeling his poor lover trying to find a way to show his lust. 
"I'm really close..." Sub Zero's breathing became heavy. 
Smoke could feel his icy breath on his shoulder, chills to his spine. His Grandmaster began to show some sign of near completion. His body shook a bit, and moaning softly. Smoke was so lucky due to having him moan right in his ears. His master sounded so attractive. It was that little moment of peace that kept his will strong to not cum. 
A few minutes pass, and Sub Zero holds onto Smoke with his dear life. The last thrusts were more passionate than rough. Kuai Liang was now a quiet mess of moaning this time. Yet not too crazy like how Smoke was. Finally, one last thrust came in. Kuai Liang relieved himself in Smoke. Tomas hyperventilated, feeling the gooey warmth inside of him keep pumping in. Sub Zero didn't want to pull out as he wanted all his love shut in his lover's ass. When he finished, he slowly pulled out. The cum slowly oozes out of Smoke's ass. He may have overdone it with such a massive load. 
"You did good." Kuai Liang comments as he smiles. 
Yet, Smoke was looking with those begging eyes. His body shook again as his breath became heavy. He began to whine at Sub Zero. His eyes look at his cock and then at his master.
"Oh yes...I almost forgot...go ahead-" Kuai Liang chuckled and even helped a bit by gently stroking Smoke's cock. Immediately, Tomas came right away on the sheets. A big sigh of relief came from him, and understandably so. 
Kuai Liang cleaned himself a bit, then untied Smoke. He threw the head bandage off to the side and then lay next to Smoke, who barely moved from his spot. 
"Come here now...it's over." The cryomancer wrapped his arm around Smoke, which was getting his senses back. Tomas snuggled Kuai Liang, his face all smoosh up to his chest. 
"I'll clean up the bed later, honey..." Smoke said as he kissed his cheek.
"Alright then..." Sub Zero smiled, "I'm glad you're okay after all this...and actually kept it all in." 
"Hehe, I'm just full of surprises, dear." 
Enenra noises
"You indeed are, my cute little lover." 
They both settle with a kiss on the lips as they snuggle up to rest their body for the night ahead. 
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lordmarvoloriddle · 2 months
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You're born in December, I'm born in July
Harry's crush on Tom Riddle does result in them becoming closer... yet not in the way he might have imagined.
AO3 link
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strid3rofthen0rth · 2 months
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Everest Quercus
A bone shuddering thud, immediately followed by an electric sting racing up through hands and arms.  The pause, surprise and awe that it did not go.  A glance filled with ill intent.  The creak of stained, heavy leather gloves.  Panting.  A deep breath and a little bounce, like a fighter waiting for the bell.  Finally, another swing, all the way from the toes, and Ker-rack!
There it is.  Now we're splitting some wood.
Splitting firewood is about the most rewarding work I can do on a cold winter morning.  The smell of cleaved hardwood mixed with sweat has been a touchstone for me since early boyhood.  Nothing conjures happy images of my father more quickly or completely.  My parents heated with wood for most of my childhood, as do I, so I continue to split.  Concerns of climate change not withstanding, there is comfort to be found in putting up for winter.  Canning, pickling, and splitting wood that we may emerge from the frigid dark once again, alive and raring to go.
It all began back on Maple Avenue.  I'd been an apartment dweller for my entire life, six years young as it was.  To suddenly have my own yard to dash around in, my own trees to climb, my own garden from which to swipe peas and brussel sprouts, was a gift from on high.  Then one fine autumn morning, a huge truck appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and dumped a massive load of white oak right in the center of my playground.  Another load soon followed.  Everest Quercus, a towering mountain of firewood.  Limbs longer than I was, rounds taller than I, heaped and tangled across the yard.  There were bugs under the bark and mud torn up from the yard.  It was the greatest thing I'd ever seen.
Choosing to invoke the selective hearing granted to all children when parents warn against taking certain actions, for days I clambered over and around it, sprayed the garden hose on the top to see where the water would come out, pried and pulled to see what was in there.  My jungle gym and fort, gateway to imagination, and the beginning of my first big adventure.
Soon enough, men I did not know arrived to help my father break down my fort.  They wielded chainsaws and cant hooks, wore long wooly beards over flannel shirts and pants so dirty my mom would have never let me be seen in them.  And they swung splitting mauls.  That sound of splitting the logs into burnable chunks -- half fastball jumping off white ash, half crunch of hard snow under foot.  The action, the dynamic nature of it all, was intoxicating.  I remember thinking there was a certain gravity to this new situation, though I obviously couldn't verbalize that thought at the time.  Something big was going down, and I wanted in.
So Dad would set me up with a stubby little end cut, the easiest piece to split, and start a wedge for me.  Wedges are often used in conjunction with a standard maul on rounds that are too big for the splitting maul.  And with six-year-olds.  He'd hand me a little two pound hammer -- I remember it now, a blue Estwing -- and I'd tink tink tink away at that wedge until I'd made my little split.  Or until I got tired or bored, just as likely.
I had to choke up on that hammer quite a bit with my little pink paws, and somehow, whether through exuberance or inattention, I finally managed to mash the tip of my right pinkie finger between the face of the hammer and top of the steel wedge.  I remember I cried at the sight of my own blood.  I remember my mother hovering somewhere between harried, concerned, and angry on the drive to the hospital.  I don't remember how many stitches I got, but they followed the blackened nail around the tip of my finger in a perfect tiny crescent, and I was chin-jutting proud of that in the days that followed.  I'd earned my stripes.  One of the boys.
That run to the ER aside, splitting wood has been generally good to me.  It's one of the times you can stand outside pouring sweat, the mercury burrowing below zero, icicles clinging to your beard, and not have to worry if the rescue plane is going to find you in time.  I like to unbend my back every once in a while, and lean on the maul.  Think about pioneers and lumberjacks and other manly stuff.  To feel muscled and strong, robust against the cold.  Like I actually have my shit together for once.  It's a chance to slow down and workout at the same time.  And if you practice long enough, you can ring the bell every time at the carnival, and win your girl a Bon Jovi mirror.
Some woods are more testy than others.  There comes a point in almost every session involving big wood when you are forced to decide whether or not you can carry on.  You have your wedge started in a huge round, probably for the second or third time.  This guy has decided to test you, deflecting your best attempts to cleave, stack, and burn.  You begin with some slightly tentative swings, making sure the wedge is driven, and all is right with the world. 
Now it's time to bring the pain.  You coil and bend, storing all the energy to be released in one massive effort. Getting your feet set, you begin that big power swing, the best one in your arsenal.  Knees, hips, shoulders snap into alignment as your fists slam together at the end of the handle, the head of the maul wails down squarely on the wedge, all the force you can muster behind it.  PING! 
Nothing... until, after a few moments heavy breathing, you begin to hear the faintest crackling.  The frozen fibers beginning to give up their bonds.  And you know, this beast will fall like all before him have.
It always amuses me when you see the leading man in a movie, lantern jawline and not a hair out of place, at his gorgeous log cabin, splitting up perfectly dry and straight pieces of maple for the fire.  They merrily crack and fly apart with barely a touch from the axe or maul.  You'll never see him sweating and cursing, trying like mad to extricate the maul from a gnarled hunk of burr oak.  It's Hollywood, where the girls are plastic and all the firewood is kiln dried.
Fir and pines are a walk in the park. They fly apart with happy ease, the chosen favorites of Instagram wood splitters everywhere. Hard maple, frozen, is among the most satisfying to split. It requires effort, but it will come apart, and the sound of a good swing on maple rings out clean and pure.
Among all woods, elm is my nemesis.  Like many of us who carry the maul and wedge, I can spot it in a wood pile from fifty yards.  Mocking me.  Daring me to even try.  I'm sure there are more difficult woods to split.  Ironwood can give you a backache just looking at it, so heavy and hard.  Shagbark hickory, with all it's armored bark as a warning, will test your shoulders and your will.  Black cherry strikes fear in the heart of mortal men.  But that stringy elm so tirelessly indefatigable.  So unrelenting in it's ability to hang together.  It seemingly wills itself to remain unbroken, the Nelson Mandela of the wood lot.  Many a wedge have been lost in a round of elm, waiting to be freed by the addition of another wedge.  And then another.  Until you find yourself berating an inanimate hunk of cellulose like a homeless wing nut cursing the weather and hot dogs on a street corner.
Swinging with precision is usually more important than swinging hard.  A few stretches before you get going will prevent a lot of soreness, even if you do look like a goober doing yoga in a flannel shirt.  Burn the elm in a campfire so you don't have to break it down as far.  And wood gets heavier as you age.  A lot heavier, but the pull of the wood lot is real, the desire to swing away, so we keep on going, chasing that perfect swing. 
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lace-coffin · 4 months
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Hello 👋 I love your writing!!! Could I request head canons of Asa with a reader who is into bondage? Like what his reaction would be if he has someone new to his collection and they're all flustered cuz their secretly into bondage.
Thank you so much for this ask! I absolutely adore writing for Asa so this is super exciting ! Feel free to drop any more ideas you have < 3
Requests are open!
Asa Emory x gn reader who’s secretly into bondage
Nsfw! Tags for this fic :kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome,bondage/shibari,petplay, power dynamics/bdsm
Trigger warning for spit/drool and like one kick from Asa (more of a nudge)
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The box sucked, it sucked a lot. To be fair the entire situation sucked but the box made it worse. It’s cramped, dark and your body is always contorted into an uncomfortable position so you can fit inside. You’re left for hours until your joints scream in fatigue before going numb.
You would rather take the box right now over this. You think Asa can tell this to and at this point he’s just doing it on purpose to see you squirm.
You pant through the ball gag, arms tied behind your back and legs tied to your thighs, rendering you completely immobile and on your front. Asa sits on a chair above you, heavy boot resting on your side. Not actively doing anything but letting the weight rest on you, showing off your place below him.
You try squirm in your binds, wiggling like an insect under him. It gets you no where. You send him a searing glare from behind your gag. Asa raises an eyebrow at this and promptly shoves his boot into the side it was resting on, flipping you into fetal position on your side. You groan.
“Now don’t give me that, pet. You know better than to look at me like that.”
It wasn’t always like this. At one point you were just another part of the collection, granted you were being given more attention since you were the newest addition and the only uh..currently living one. You were the pretty little thing that caught his eye in his entomology lectures. There’s no way you would be finishing the university year without joining the collection.
He intentionally bumped into you in the street one day after dark, learning your routine and routes. a needle was pressed into your neck and a black gloved hand over your mouth before you even had time to be afraid. You hazily awoke in a box, crumpled into an odd position, the rest is history.
You always reacted so strangely to the predicaments he put you in, of course you fought and swore just like the rest, spitting out the most venomous words you could think off to dig at him without success. However there was something different to you, the yearning look in your eyes buried behind the aggressive façade as he finally wrestled you to the ground to subdue you. The poorly hidden gasps you let slip as he tightened the rope in a way that felt sinful but so right. Of course the damp patch forming on your underwear was a pretty good give away to. He’d run his nitrile gloved hands over the slowly soaking fabric almost in awe ,making you whimper and squirm.
“So leaky and desperate, is this all for me, cricket? …You’re disgusting.”
Despite the cruelness of the words it made your arousal throb more than you’d like to admit.
You quickly became Asa’s favourite, earning a room for yourself and more leniency in your stay, as lenient as someone like Asa could be at least.
You quickly seemed to form a bond with your captor. Eventually you’re moved to his house as the relationship dips into romantic territory. New found environment joined with a collar. The tag reading “cricket, property of the collection”
call it true love or call it Stockholm syndrome from being here so long in only his company, you still yearned for him in the hours he couldn’t be with you. It was obvious Asa felt the same way even if he thought he was above such connections, gazing longingly in thought at your empty seat in his lectures, willingly time to march quicker so he can return home to you.
The door opens and Asa’s coat is hung on its usual hook, keys slung into the bowl. You’re sat neatly on your knees, fixing your posture as you hear the door open. Your mouth is gagged and drooling around a bone shaped gag. Your collar attached to the ring on the wall. a cage, bowl, and water all in proximity of the range of the chain fixed to your collar.
Asa’s crowfeet crinkle as he smiles, crouching down to pet your head. Tugging your collar he forces your chin up to look at him. He coo’s, looking over the tears of frustration dried on your cheeks he pulls your gag down. Giving your jaw a rest and you groan in relief.
Chuckling at your reaction he runs his fingers over your spit covered lips, and smiles at you patronisingly.
“Did you miss me?” he shakes his head a little in amusement. “Messy little cricket.”
I hope you enjoyed this! I really had fun writing it! I always do for Asa 😌
Requests are open!
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the-oracles-maw · 25 days
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GBA Headcanons: post MoTH Makkaro Headcanons
I don’t like makkaro all that much (or at all while moth was still ongoing) but he introduced me to GBA and I have the most background known of him. No hate to those who do fw this mid ass husband /hj
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After everything that's happened, your husband's powers gone, your marriage back from the brink of shambles, you both need the time to process.
After whisking you away on a new adventure once again, just as you remembered your loving husband, neither of you aren't exactly jumping at the opportunity to embark on another quest.
You kinda just... lie there. Preferably in the small bed in the cottage you both found. You appreciate the close proximity. Plus, the intimacy that comes with it.
You take the time to let just about everything out. Cry. Yell and scream at each other. Knock yourself off that pedestal to husband keeps putting you on. You hate when Mak does that.
Make up. Hug. Kiss like no tomorrow. Makkaro shivering from the intensity of the sensation of touch. It's like you're back in your honeymoon phase on this restarting of your relationship.
You cannot keep your hands off of each other, and end up having sex quite often. Even multiple times a day on different surfaces. Embraced on the bed, wrapped in the sheets, Nude, on the plush carpet in front of the fireplace, or even still clothed, bent over the kitchen island. It's perhaps your and Mak's favorite way of venting the remainder of your emotions with one another after everything.
With his sense of physical touch back with him, Makkaro's extremely sensitive, and you take full advantage of this.
As he gets used to the newfound sensations, one thing he doesn't get used to is how you feel beneath his fingers.
He always has a hand on you now. On the small of your back guiding you through a crowd, holding your hand in public, an arm around your waist introducing you to someone. Embracing you from behind while you're trying to do chores.
Even the occasional grope of your hips, thighs, or bold, desperate squeeze of your breasts. You have to shoo the man off, lest you become distracted.
It's like a grounding technique for him. He utilizes his newfound humanity to bring him back to the present when his thoughts run away from him.
This also comes into play with his ever frequent nightmares.
You remember his nightmares from after his imprisonment, they went away briefly after your wedding day, but after the Titan, the Guardian... They returned. How couldn't they?
But this time, you find yourself unable to sleep either.
So, you two built a brand new little love routine.
When it's him to be awoken from a nightmare, he usually finds himself nestled against your bosom, your hand running through his hair, encouraging him to cry. Just like that fateful day.
There's a small fireplace with a kindling that's become both of your "decompression spot." It's also where Makkaro finds you when you're plagued by a sleepless night.
That's not to say Makkaro knows when you're not actually sleeping, and just laying there. You don't want him to worry, you insist.
"Darling, what sort of fool do you take me for?" You've taken care of him this whole time, he's insistent he takes care of you in turn.
"Come along now.... Now, no, I know you're not a delicate jewel... But, look at you, my love..." He reaches out, cupping your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs. "Why can't you just let me be here for you, when you've been here for me this whole time?" He swiftly leans in, giving you a quick kiss on your nose, in an attempt to make you giggle.
"After all..." he trails off, a sad look in his eyes as he just stares at your tear stained cheeks. "Was I not the cause of these tears?"
"Well..."
You roll your eyes and trail off, a ghost of a smile starting to blossom at your lips. "I don't know... Why should I let you console me... when you made me like this?"
"Darling, please! Don't jape with me now!" Makkaro looks pitiful. You almost stifle a laugh. Almost.
"How many times must I say I'm sorry, my love?" Reaching out for your hand, he brings it to his lips, placing kiss after kiss on your knuckles. The laugh is just about to escape your lips, but the "you're in so much trouble" look never leaving your eyes.
"...You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"
"Nope." You give him a glowing smile, at last. His favorite face of yours. A face he's blessed to still have to wake up to every morning.
Perhaps, somewhere in the Great Beyond, Frank, his beloved brother-in-arms, has put you up to this. Makkaro can practically hear him cackling at your teasing.
Speaking of, you both commissioned a little portrait of the skeleton. It hangs above your fireplace and has a little shrine of candles.
A shame you didn't get to know Frank very well, so Mak loves to fill you in. (Frank knew of you, of course, he called you Mrs. Mak.) You have to stop the poor man when he gets misty-eyed.
"With how you pester me, my love... Frank would have adored you."
As more and more time goes by, and as you both heal, the events of MoTH becomes an inside joke between you two.
Feeling cheeky and want to embarrass the hell out of your husband? bring up his time as a necromancer!
"Hey, Makkaro, my love. Remember the time when-"
"Darling please, no-"
He's fine, he's laughing along eventually.
Neither of you really know how you did it, but for what it's worth, your adventure that almost destroyed your love, has in the end, brought you closer than ever before.
It was also a learning experience for you two. As a married couple, there's going to be bumps in the road, not everything was perfect. And that was alright! You had each other. And as long as you had one another...
There was seemingly nothing either of you couldn't conquer.
In your cases, love truly did seem to conquer all.
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a-land-lacking-sleep · 4 months
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Day 25 (Alt): Guilty Pleasure
(Read this NOT on Wattpad!)
It started as innocently as any internet based hobby could - Emmet wanted to annoy his brother a bit. So he made a Wattpad account, titled simply as “TrainFan22” to find whatever poorly written or hilariously cheesy he could irk Ingo with. He did find quite a few, too! His favorite was tehy canot take what is mine by the very eloquent EmerFan2, and he quickly adopted the bit of just verballing saying “Emmet growl angry” whenever Ingo annoyed him.
It rapidly began to devolve from there, though. Soon it wasn’t just the hilariously bad and cheesy that Emmet was seeking for simple laughs. He found himself drawn to some of the more serious works, such as one where he and his brother helped a young girl find the secret that her father hid from a crime syndicate, or the one that, while a little cliche, linked to a really well-done animated music video.
But it was controllable until the night Ingo found Emmet in front of his computer at 12:30 in the morning, discussing the fanfic with an author and giving them pointers on characterization of himself in a fic.
“Brother,” Ingo says from over his shoulder, looking at the computer screen. “Why are you telling someone that you would break the nose of a Plasma member?”
“I am Emmet. I have broken a Plasma member’s nose,” Emmet says with a nod as he continues typing.
“Not legally,” Ingo mutters with a bit of a laugh, getting a chuckle from Emmet as well. “But we also have work in the morning. You need to rest your engines, otherwise you might stall while on the line.”
“This fic is verrrry good, Ingo,” Emmet says, softly nodding his head. “I want to make it better. You should read it.”
“Fanfiction is your purview, Brother,” Ingo says with a sigh. “Go to bed soon, ok? It’s a good thing we have a later shift tomorrow, but I’m still going to bed. Good night.”
As Ingo walks out of Emmet’s room, Emmet just gives him a wave as he send the message to ErlektrosFan3.
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therainywriter · 4 months
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I See You (Fluff)
Pairing: Tsuek'tu (Na'vi) x Reader
Tsuek'tu held you at his side, large hand encompassing your waist as he held you steady after you nearly fell off the thin vine you stood on.
You gripped his arm in panic, looking up at him with fearful eyes. “Tsuek- I’m going to fall.”
The end of his lip tilted up, “I won’t let you fall, just a bit further.”
He never let you go the rest of the way, acutely aware of your tense little form. He would protect you at any cost, his sweet one.
Ever since he rescued you from the thanator, the two of you have spent countless nights together- with you tucked next to him as he pulled you along amongst the trees.
You were constantly learning about their planet, the creatures and flora. But most of all, the people, their culture and way of life.
He often spoke in Na'vi, letting you listen as he pointed things out and described them. You were catching on, slowly but surely learning the complex language.
Tsuek paused, hand keeping you at the back of him.
"Kempe leren?" you asked quietly, unsure if you were actually asking what was happening.
He smiled to himself, you were learning. "Shh, do not scare the yerik," he said quietly.
He shifted his position, leaning back against the tree to your right and pulling you to his abdomen so you could see for yourself.
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you rest against him, looking around the tree to observe the herbivore. The scientists call them hexapedes, their habits resemble those of deer.
They're fragile creatures, easily frightened but very protective of their young.
You watched it with admiring eyes, unaware that Tsuek was doing the same, but with you.
He glanced at the handmade jewelry adorning your wrist and neck, only two of many gifts you'd so sweetly accepted from him with a smile on your face.
You were comfortable with him, not shy to place your small five-fingered blue hand on his arm and share your curiosities. It drove him crazy.
He gave you a toothy grin when you jumped, gasping silently as the creature kicked one of its six hooves against the ground. You pouted, "Not funny-"
He hummed quietly, "Very funny."
He thought for a moment when you leaned your head against his chest, resuming your careful watch of the yerik.
He nudged you lightly, grabbing your hand in his and leading you elsewhere. "Za'u," golden eyes met yours as he glanced behind him.
You followed him, doing your best to keep up as his long strides. "Where are we going?" you questioned, slightly breathless as you hopped over a thick vine.
"You'll see, kal'in 'aw."
You were exhausted by the time he slowed down, legs aching but the pain tolerable in your avatar body. You took a breath in, only to have it knocked out of you as you registered where you were.
The Tree of Souls, you knew this place. Though you had only heard stories, you were familiar with it. It was a sacred place, deeply cherished by the Na'vi.
"It's- It's beautiful," you mumbled in awe, hand reaching out to let the glowing pink tendrils fall along the palm of your hand.
You turned to him and tilted your head, "Why did you bring me here?"
He looked at your big, confused eyes taking your hands into his larger ones.
"Oel ngati kameie, I see you," he said softly, looking at you as though he could see straight through to your very soul.
Your heart skipped a beat and you stepped closer, fingers tightening around his hands. "Oel ngati kameie," you repeated.
He leaned his head against yours, pressing a soft kiss against your lips which you returned just as gently.
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