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burnednotburied · 14 days

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Chapter Two

AO3 Link | Chapter 1 Link

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to lovers; animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; cutting (not to self, but still); descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas; brief allusion to transphobia

Note: I know I’m not the only one who wanted to be the one holding the knife in that scene…

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The earth beneath Abby’s knees was wet. Rain cascaded all around her. When she was able to pull her eyelids open, she found that she was staring at the ground below her. It was dark, save for dim firelight.

Very slowly, she came to, her senses awakening one by one.

It took her far too long to realize that she was being dragged forward, toward a larger fire, with her arms tightly bound behind her back.

She was barely conscious when the arms that were carrying her suddenly let go, sending her crashing onto the ground with no way to cushion the fall. She let out a pained grunt and shifted, trying to get a better sense of where she was.

When she looked up, she found three bodies, hanged and gutted and very very dead.

Panic set in as she quickly got her knees beneath her, trying to get up. Instantly, the hands returned, roughly forcing her back on her face and holding her there, unyielding.

All too quickly, a noose was pulled over her head and tightened.

“No—” Abby pleaded, but the rope tightened further and she struggled as she was lifted off the ground.

She dangled and continued to struggle until something was pushed beneath her feet, just tall enough for her to stand on the tips of her toes and relieve some of the pressure on her throat.

Finally, she saw her attackers. She knew they would be Scars, but looking at them standing around her, watching…

She knew she was about to die.

There was a man and a woman directly in front of her, mutilated faces silently staring at her from beneath their hoods.

The woman removed hers and tilted her head, eying Abby.

She spoke. “It is time.” And then she took a step back. “If it is your will, Prophet, yield your righteous blade. Free this wretched Wolf from the evil within her.”

You stood in the shadows, unseen, previously unnoticed by the dangling girl. When the woman spoke to you, you stepped into the light, slowly moving toward them.

Where the other Scars wore trench coats, you were covered entirely in a long black cloak, your face concealed beneath a larger hood. Your movements were smooth and intentional. Self-assured.

In your right hand, there was a dagger, loosely held but steady in your grip.

As you stepped closer to Abby, she tried to focus. Tried to analyze you. But her airflow was severely restricted and any small movement from her could result in her losing her footing and falling off the bucket beneath her feet.

The two others stood on either of Abby’s sides, ready to intervene if she were to try anything… Not that she could do anything if she did try.

You were standing directly in front of her now, but she still couldn’t see anything beneath the hood through the rain and her faintly blurring vision.

She wasn’t sure what she expected. That morning when Isaac told her you existed, she hadn’t thought about what you might look like. She had seen the murals of the original Scar Prophet, and she always thought she looked like a regular woman. Just some random lady who became the leader of the worst cult ever.

Nothing could’ve prepared her for when you reached up with your free hand and pulled back your hood. Her eyebrows raised involuntarily.

You were beau—

You… You didn’t look like a Scar.

Your eyes met hers for just a moment before they swept downward, taking her in. You eyed her curiously, like you weren’t sure what to do with her.

Or maybe that was Abby just being hopeful.

The look on your face hardened, becoming determined. Your grip on the knife tightened. If any part of you had been hesitating, you’d just made up your mind.

Shit.

Fuck.

Yeah, she was definitely going to die.

“They are nested with sin,” you said, voice low. Your eyes were on Abby’s face, holding her gaze.

The other Scars watched as your eyes again went lower. You reached your hand toward Abby’s abdomen, lightly grazing before gripping the bottom hem of the shirt and pulling it up, exposing her bare stomach.

Abby knew that the lack of oxygen must’ve been making her lose her mind. She had to be sick. Because when she felt your fingers on her skin, she shivered. And she wanted to lean into the touch…

Until you pressed the blade there, harshly enough to emit a trickle of blood.

Abby hissed and looked away, gasping for breath and closing her eyes against the sharp sting of the knife.

You pushed the blade further.

“Free them,” you continued, “That they may know My—”

You were interrupted by the sound of a whistle, and you instantly paused.

Abby opened her eyes to watch as you breathed out. You were – what – relieved?

The other two ran off to respond to the whistle. You remained in place, dagger still held firmly against Abby’s stomach. You stared at it, and she stared at you, waiting for you to either finish the job or pull away.

You did neither, frozen in place. It seemed like you were also waiting for something.

Abby didn’t dare to move in the meantime.

The other Scars returned with two more, another man and a younger girl who was struggling against the men as they held her forcefully on both sides.

“Yara,” the Scar woman said smugly. You visibly winced upon hearing the name, still not turning around.

“Where is the other apostate?” the same woman asked. She leaned closer to the girl, who responded by spitting in the woman’s face.

There was a moment of silence before the woman uttered the words, “Clip her wings.”

“No!” You spoke out immediately, turning quickly and bringing your dagger with you. Abby gasped and took as deep a breath as she could, still struggling against the noose and her binds.

“Don’t.” Your voice was authoritative, causing the men who were holding the girl to pause.

The woman looked quickly at you, surprised at your outburst, before turning back to her henchmen. “I am your direct superior. Do as I said.”

“But she’s the—”

“Do. It.” She seethed.

“No,” you insisted again.

The men threw the girl on the ground anyway.

You ran forward, but the woman grasped you and forced you back. You were too preoccupied watching the girl on the ground to prevent the woman from taking the dagger from your hands. She tossed it aside, far out of reach.

“I knew it!” she said through gritted teeth. “I told Elder Constance you weren’t ready.”

It happened quickly.

One of the men pulled a hammer from his belt and violently smashed it down on the girl’s left arm as she screamed.

“Yara!” You tried to push past the other woman again, but again she held you back.

“They’re apostates! Traitors to your people and your cause. You should be giving the order to have them killed!”

The man brought the hammer down three more times.

“Stop! Please stop!” you cried, fighting against the woman.

No one listened to you.

The hammer was passed to the other man. He raised his hand, ready to shatter her other arm too, when two arrows from an unseen archer stopped him short.

One through the face. The other in the chest.

Everyone turned to look for the unknown assailant, except for the girl.

She grabbed the hammer from the dead Scar’s grasp and slammed the claw of it into the other man’s throat, killing him.

The Scar woman pulled her gun to shoot the girl, but another flying arrow drew her away. She faced the surrounding forest, shooting blindly several times, not knowing where the archer was hiding.

The girl stood, left arm mangled and limp at her left side, hammer firmly grasped at her right.

This whole time, Abby could do nothing but watch.

But the Scar woman moved just close enough for her to wrap her legs around her neck from behind. She squeezed the woman’s head between her thighs until she dropped her gun.

The girl ended the woman by ramming the claws of the hammer through the side of her head.

As the woman went limp, she fell from between Abby’s legs, sending her swinging through the air by her neck, unable to regain her balance on the bucket.

And Abby began to choke.

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The Elders referred to it as your “first kill”.

It was supposed to be the last trial before you fully stepped into your role as the Prophet.

You still weren’t sure of all that would entail, but after eight years in limbo, you were ready for something else. Quite literally anything else.

Years of memorizing the scriptures, learning to fight with multiple weapons (and without them), improving upon any and all skills the Elders deemed necessary for you to master, each one seemingly more arbitrary than the last. Hours upon hours upon hours of prayer and meditation. And a whole lot of nothing.

You could kill a Wolf or two if it meant your life would become anything more than what it had been for nearly a decade. If it meant things would be different.

And if it meant you could help your friends.

You knew everyone was searching for Yara and L. Hunting them down.

You’d heard through the quiet whispers of your servants at Sanctuary that he had cut his hair and told his mother that his name was Lev.

He had no choice but to run, and Yara went too.

You were so afraid for them.

And yet part of you wished they had taken you with them.

You weren’t sure if you still got to call them your friends. You hadn’t been permitted to spend time with anyone informally or without purpose since the morning of your scarring ceremony, so you hadn’t spoken to them since then.

You should’ve been able to be there for Lev. And Yara. You shouldn’t have been locked away.

But maybe once your training was complete and you were officially the Prophet – in authority, not just by name – you could protect them.

Maybe something good could come from your circumstances after all.

That would make it all feel worth it.

Emily had taken on training you in hand-to-hand combat some months ago.

You had a strange relationship with her.

On one hand, she was the only person who didn’t treat you like you were some mystical, cosmically-chosen goddess. She usually treated you like you were just another person.

But, on the other hand, she was an ass. So that was frustrating to deal with.

Still, there had always been a greater sense of normalcy between the two of you than there had been with anyone else in Haven.

The Elders decided that Emily would be the one to take you to the mainland for your first kill.

There were some disagreements about how large the hunting party should be.

“The people need to see Her as a conqueror. They need to know that she’s a capable fighter,” some of the Elders argued. But it was ultimately agreed upon that a smaller group would be safer. It would draw less attention from your enemies.

So Emily chose two of her best men, and your group set out.

The mainland was not what you had expected, and nothing like the island, but you were able to navigate it well enough.

Emily brought you to see Martyr’s Gate for the first time.

Prayer had long since become a mindless chore of yours. You rarely did it in earnest.

Today, you did though.

You prayed for strength. Because the closer you came to the killing, the less sure you were that you would be able to go through with it.

The idea of killing while fighting, either in your own defense or to defend another, was one thing. You were sure you could do that if the time came.

But this was different. It wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t fair. And it wasn’t a true display of combat skills or strategy or anything else you’d been training for.

Emily explained that the plan was to “catch a wolf, string ‘em up, and cut ‘em open.”

The thought made you sick.

In a rare moment of compassion, Emily put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed lightly. “They would do the same thing to you, Prophet,” she said, looking into your eyes, “the second they got the chance.”

You tried to steel yourself, knowing that, just like everything else in your life, you didn’t have much of a choice.

When the time came, you weren’t even the one who “caught” the Wolf. The men had her pinned down and Emily knocked her out while you just stood off to the side, blinking, trying not to vomit.

As she laid still on the ground, you couldn’t help but to examine the girl whose life you would soon be taking.

She was big. And very strong. Strong in a way you honestly didn’t know a woman could be.

You wondered if all Wolves looked like this. You doubted it.

She wore a black sleeveless shirt, so you could see her arms, and they were incredible. Your eyes lingered for longer than you should’ve allowed yourself to.

Her dark blonde hair was long and braided.

She was covered in cuts and bruises. Definitely a soldier. Probably a very good one.

Your eyes traveled over her lightly freckled face, down her long nose—

Emily interrupted your train of thought. “I think I’ve heard of this one before… Never come across her myself though,” she said, joining you in eying the newly unconscious Wolf. “She has killed countless Seraphites. Numbers of Your people, dead at her hands.”

You felt a flash of anger upon hearing this and berated yourself for having been looking at her so… admiringly.

How many people did you know whose role of soldier was chosen for them, just as your role of Prophet had been chosen for you. They hadn’t asked for it any more than you did. And they had been killed for it.

Many of them by this woman.

Suddenly, the idea of killing her didn’t seem so impossible.

“It will be our honor to take care of the dirty work on your behalf, Prophet,” Emily said. “The only thing you need to worry about is this…” She handed you the dagger as the men dragged the Wolf away, into the forest.

You followed behind, pulling your hood over your head as it began to rain.

One of the two men split off, saying he thought he saw something and wanted to investigate. Emily nodded and took the Wolf’s arm from him, taking on half of her weight.

Once in the clearing, you watched as the Wolf regained consciousness, just in time for Emily and one of the men to put the noose around her neck and lift her off the ground.

You watched as she struggled to catch her breath and balanced on the bucket that Emily had shoved beneath her feet.

You watched, hidden beneath your hood, as she saw you for the first time, standing in the shadows, and her eyes widened.

You listened to her gasps and grunts as she struggled against her binds as you approached.

You pulled back your hood and looked into her eyes. Saw a living, breathing human being who had done nothing to you and could do nothing to defend herself against you.

And once again you weren’t sure if you could actually do it.

But you pushed ahead, just as you always do, and did what was expected of you.

Until the whistle had cut you off.

Yara had been captured, and you weren’t able to stop them from destroying her arm.

In the fight that ensued, you were useless, standing off to the side in utter shock as arrows, bullets, and hammers flew, everything happening too quickly for you to be able to react.

When the Wolf grabbed Emily with her legs and crushed her between her thighs, you couldn’t help but note the fact that you had been standing much closer to the Wolf, and for much longer…

But Emily was dead and the Wolf was choking, now dangling freely with nothing to stand on.

“Yara!” You heard him before you saw him.

He came come running out of the of the tree line, pausing when he saw the hanging Wolf.

And then he saw you, still frozen. Still useless.

“Prophet,” he breathed, bowing his head. The genuine sincerity in the gesture disheartened you, but you were glad to see him alive and unharmed, so you gave him a small smile and a nod.

His eyes stayed on you for just a moment longer before he went to check on Yara, quietly whispering her name. She waved him away, her arm limp and face pained.

“The Demons are coming,” he said, loud enough for you both to hear.

For some reason, that was what got you moving. You found the dagger on the ground where Emily had thrown it and rushed over to rope that held the Wolf.

“What are you doing?” Lev asked.

“Cutting her down.”

“She’s one of them,” he said.

“Lev,” Yara said, shaking her head.

He went quiet, watching as you quickly cut the rope.

The Wolf fell to the ground with a loud, painful thud and immediately began coughing and gasping for air.

You walked over to her, hesitant. You had been seconds away from disemboweling her just a few minutes ago. Maybe she would turn around and kill you the second she was free.

But you had already cut her down and Demons were on the way, so you knelt on the ground behind her and carefully cut away the ties that held her hands.

The moment she was able, she used her own hands to loosen and remove the noose, sitting up quickly and looking around for something.

Her eyes went to Emily and she crawled over, grasping the hammer lodged in her head and yanking it out.

With one hand to her throat, she stood.

You couldn’t believe she was standing so quickly after what just happened to her, but she was. And you knew that if she decided to attack you, you would not win that fight. Even now, in her weakened state and despite your years of training, you wouldn’t stand a chance against her.

But she didn’t come after you.

A twig snapped in the surrounding forest. She turned towards that, ready to face whatever came out first.

Yara stood, grabbing a knife that belonged to one of Emily’s men.

Lev had an arrow notched in his bow, ready to fly.

You gripped the dagger tighter in your hand and tried to remember everything you’d been taught about fighting Demons.

“Watch your backs,” said the Wolf.

You supposed you’d get to have your first kill tonight after all.

#abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic

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spohkh · 6 months

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ITS SOOOOOOOO CRAZY the fact that the ONLY thing dong soo wanted in exchange for helping run an illegal online gambling scheme was for do young to promise to leave dong soo alone after its all done…. AND THE FACT THAT DO YOUNG LOOKED SOOOOOOO UPSET ABOUT THAT ASK. YOU GUYYYYSSSSSSSSSSS

#HE LITERALLY ONLY ASKED TO BE LET GO AND DO YOUNG IS SO… LIKE HELL IM GONNA LET YOU GO #EVILIVE #beau watches evilive #not even 5 min into the ep and my spines been ripped out #the entire sashimi dinner scene…. LIFE ALERT

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gunpowderraven · 10 months

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critical role: by someone that hasn’t seen any of it

hi so we recently got into dimension 20 and our friends have been tugging us towards critical role for a very long time at this point but we still haven’t watched any of it nor do we know all that much about anything that actually happens in it. however we do intend to actually start watching soon so we decided it was the perfect opportunity to make one of those ‘all the things i know about this thing i haven’t watched’ posts, show it to our critrole friends, and then actually get into critrole and be able to look back and laugh about it later

also the images are all sourced via friend so this is all one hundred percent no wiki no google knowledge, just from tumblr and discord convos and stuff. and some cast compilation videos that were very funny

update: we are now watching cr3! liveblog tag for silly lb -> #cr3 lb

vox machina

from left to right:

- i have literally no idea who the two halflings are. i’ve never seen them before in my life. what. uh. paladin and bard? im literally just guessing. who plays these characters. what

- grog? grug? this is travis’ pc maybe. also hypothesizing hes a half-orc barbarian or something similar? ive seen like one clip of him

- percival frederick von something something de rolo i think there’s a iii in his name as well, his name is long and very german but he does not have a german accent. or a french one. at separate times i have thought this character was german and french and then i heard him talk and was like. What. anyway i know he’s taliesin’s pc and he invented guns and is also possessed sometimes by big bird demon, and he has a nifty plague doctor mask. also tragic backstory. his entire family is dead i think. no mercy percy! he has a thing with vex? also his hair did a wilbur. the gay people on tumblr love this twink. i also think i love this twink

- vax’ildan! i think i may have actually spelled that right! half-elf? vex is his twin? and he’s... liam’s pc i think. yeah that’s it. he gives me angsty boy energy tho. not as much as percy but this boy has seen some shit. also he might be a rogue or a ranger who even knows. he looks like gay jon snow

- vex’ahlia which i definitely didn’t spell right. i think the next one is marisha’s pc so this one is... uh... laura? i think she’s the ranger actually. i think she has a bear. not like a gay bear like an actual animal bear. though it could be gay too i dunno. she has a think with percy. or everyone wants her to have a thing with percy. i genuinely can’t tell. anyway get that traumatized twink girl

- keyleth... marisha’s pc. some kind of spellcaster? maybe sorcerer? wild magic? she Also has a thing with percy maybe. or vex. or both. who even knows. everyone wants that twink. one time she threw herself off a cliff and turned into a goldfish and almost died and it was hilarious

anything else i know about this:

- there are evil bitches called the briarwoods and they might be vampires

- this is the one that got a tv show and might have also been the first critrole campaign idek

- d. ragons? chromia something. dragons. i hope i haven’t been lied to about the dragons. i hope there are actually dragons in this. there’s like a chromium something with dragon symbols tho

mighty nein

from left to right:

- mollymauk! ...tealeaf? another taliesin pc. the trans people like this one. i don’t know what their pronouns are. but theyre slaying every time i see them at any time. no idea what class but maybe a spellcaster?

- ...beau? i know her exclusively through lesbian ship art so i know her name is beau something bc that’s the ship names but i don’t know if that’s short for something. monk? no clue. also no clue who plays her either. maybe marisha?

- i have seen this character but i do not know their name. or anything else about them

- oh this is the sad wizard boy caleb widogast. he’s gay for essek thelyss (or something. i didnt spell that right) who is a npc i think. yeah. sad wizard. every time i see him he’s just being a wizard and sad. the gays love him too but he’s more of a distraught otter than a sad twink. maybe he and percy should start a club tho. also i think he’s played by liam

- i KNOW this character’s name i think it starts with s but i can’t remember for the life of me. scriv? scrat? no thats the rat from ice age. possibly a menace? i think im getting them mixed up with someone else. they look cool as hell though

- jester!! laura pc i think perhaps. i want to get drunk with her and tell her about all of my problems. yeah. i dont know anything about her actually. beaujester exists tho i know that

- YASHA. CRUSH ME HOLY FUCK. sorry im normal ? her voice makes me a little crazy insane. ive seen a few clips of her. mostly gay shit with beau. uh she’s played by ashley and she could kick my ass very easily

oh my god there’s another photo

- i think there’s only one character different here and it’s caduceus clay fun fact i hated this mfer for really dumb shitty personal reasons for a while before deciding it was very stupid to blame a fictional character for interpersonal drama and now im fine with him. wait does mollymauk die or something. wait a second. no, wait, fuck—

- ALSO WHO’S THAT FUCKER IN THE BACKGROUND I JUST NOTICED THAT

anything else i know about this:

- yeah i got nothing. no idea about the lore or the plot or anything bc i pretty much exclusively see gay ship art of these pcs. love wins i support it

bells hells

from left to right, one more time:

- look my brain is just saying gertrude from dungeons & drag queens but obviously that’s incorrect. so i don’t know who this is

- or this! but she looks very pretty and i love the little... monkey... bird? pls tell me these two characters have some kind of wild opposites dynamic they look like they do

- LITTLE ROBOT GUY . fcg? fgc? i think it was the first one. uh. liam pc? ?????? i think he gets bitches

- orym...? i know one of these characters is named orym. and i think it’s this one. i also see gay fanart of him

- i don’t know who the guy underneath him is

- or the lady with the purple hair god i really don’t know shit about this campaign sorry

- ashton greymoore, taliesin pc, my friend luna loves this guy, he’s. rocks? he’s rocks. groovy.

- someone in this campaign is named like dorian or something and im guessing its this one bc idk who they are either

anything else i know about this:

- flying.......... ship?

- this is the ongoing one i think

thank you for coming to my ted talk, i can’t wait to look back at this in a few months and laugh my ass off. hope u enjoyed this mess

#jupiter.txt #thierry.txt #critical role

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centrally-unplanned · 5 days

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Been watching the original Sailor Moon with partner (@stifledlaughterao3) and there is this character, Motoki:

He is Mamoru's (Tuxedo Mask) genki bff and in Season 1 a crush of Usagi's, and overall is just a general good civilian friend of the whole squad and a recurring character all the way through Season 4. He never appears in Season 5 (I think) for no stated reason, presumably because that season stuffed a healthy dose of new boytoys into its ensemble and needed to balance the scales by putting some others on a bus, but anyway...

In the aforementioned Season 4, the main plot is a Snow White Queen style villain capturing people's "Beautiful Dreams" (shown as mirrors) in a hunt for magic crystal (its Sailor Moon, its always a magic crystal). Said crystal is btw protected by a pegasus/alicorn prince with whom Chibiusa fulfills the deepest fantasy of every eager horse girl in the audience:

Get it girrrl don't let your dreams be dreams. But anyway (again)... the minions of our Distaff Evil Queen raid everyone's dreams hunting Chibiusa's beau, and I mean everyone's; at some points they are just dragging bodies by the truckful to inspect mirrors:

Those are the mirrors - I promise you the piles of bodies they got them from are just off frame. Point is, pretty much everybody has got a beautiful dream, which is why its so hard for these minion girls to find the needle dream in the haystack, insane hairstyles or no.

Season goes on, villain finds the macguffin, fighty fighty plotty plotty and it all culminates with the villain having sealed away all of humanity's dreams in darkness and Chibiusa & Usagi calling everyone to channel the power of their dreams into a planet-wide counterspell. Or Tokyo-wide at minimum, Chbiusa speaks like God from the sky over Tokyo and huge crowds go glassy-eyed to help her:

Even our boy Motoki's sister Unazuki jumps in to help, yelling into space as a confused Motoki tries to figure out what is going on with her:

Which...wait a second, why isn't Motoki helping? Everyone else is! He is the only character on screen in this sequence in Tokyo who isn't helping. Its not just girls, you see plenty of guys, its not just "kids", we see a confirmed late 20's school principal for example doing it too.

I get that not literally everybody had a Beautiful Dream probably, but like everybody the main cast interacts with does! Its used frequently as like an inherent, thematic statement of the essence of humanity, and its lack as a serious problem. So wtf is going on with Motoki! Why doesn't he get a dream?? I thought this would have some like nitpick explanation, but digging in I can't actually find one, I think he just...is dreamless, and therefore by implication kind of sucks.

This is literally the last time you see him, too! Dreamless and confused. My new headcanon is this moment outed him as some form of an alien spy minion and he was summarily executed by the post-dream-apocalypse reconstruction authorities, explaining why we never see him again. Rest In Peace, Motoki - in death may the void of the universe finally meet the void of your heart.

#sailor moon

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h-c-u · 1 year

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Eye of the storm pt 3

Summary: You start to think about other things than your father's death, and Beau helps, without even realising how much. Oh, and there is a first kiss in this one :)

Pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson x fem!reader (Iceman’s daughter)

W/C: 9.1k

Rating: PG, age gap, canon character’s death (Tom Kazansky)

TWs: Grief, unnamed ED, Panic attacks.

A/N: It took me a while, but it's here... I think 2, maybe 3 more parts and the story I wanted to tell will be done.

Part 1 | Part 2 Masterlist | List of tags | Eye of the storm playlist

- Cyclone! You there? - the loud banging at the door instantly jolted both of you awake, and you looked at Beau, fear painted all over your face. He only clenched his jaw and went to open the door, ready to deal with all the possible consequences, but you were not... So instead of facing the reality just yet, you hid completely under the covers, making sure that every part of your body was completely hidden. Logically you knew that there were signs that he wasn't exactly alone in the room, but without your face, it would be pretty hard to connect them to you. You didn't know that, but before he opened the door, he took one last look at you and smiled only seeing bundled-up bedding.

- What? - he asked, his voice completely void of emotions.

- You're late. It's 8:20. The call. - a familiar voice said, but you couldn't fully place it.

- Shit. I overslept. I'll be there in 5. - he panicked a little but already had a plan forming in his head.

- Mark that day in a calendar, everyone! Vice-Admiral Beau Simpson overslept! - the faceless voice laughed, and you couldn't help but chuckle. Now that you thought about it, he was always first in the room whenever he had a meeting with your dad. And he was always prepared and ready to go.

- Yeah, yeah... Make all the jokes you want, Sol. But make them from somewhere where you won't see me change. - Sol... Solomon Bates. You were finally able to connect the voice to the name. You only knew him in passing, that's why you didn't recognize his voice at first.

You heard the door closing, and you felt safe enough to peek from under the covers. He was quickly preparing to leave, and you wanted to try something truly evil. When he was still in the bathroom, you took one of his tan uniforms from the wardrobe and passed the folded clothes through the open door. You watched him quickly change from shorts into pants, putting on a t-shirt, but when it came to the beige shirt, you stopped him from doing the buttons and did them yourself, while he diligently watched every move of your fingers. Even though he was already almost late, and he knew that he could do them quicker, he'd much rather have you take care of that. You also pinned his ribbons and wings, as you did so many times in the past for your dad, so you knew the exact placement.

After you finished, he tucked the shirt into his pants and moved past you to find and put on the shoes, while you stood next to the door, patiently waiting on your tippy toes for your chance to execute the evil plan.

He eventually was ready to head out, but before he had the chance to open the door, you took his right hand into yours stopping him for just a moment before he left, and snaked your other hand onto his neck, gently pulling him closer.

He didn't even register what was happening, because he got so used to your presence and your touch. Everything you did with him just felt... right. But then he was out the door and had already taken four steps into the long corridor when it hit him so hard that he instantly stopped. You kissed him... It was quick and soft, just a peck on the lips, but definitely planned and intentional, not driven by overwhelming emotions. And he kissed you back as if he did it million times before... The blood immediately rushed to his face, and he could feel the warmth spilling into his chest. Only when someone saluted him in passing, he realized that in two minutes he was supposed to be deciding the fates of possible new Top Gun recruits. He fought with himself for a good moment, because his whole body was screaming at him to back and kiss you properly, but instead, he clenched his jaw, took two deep breaths to calm himself, and quickly walked in a direction of conference room number one. And while the blush disappeared from his cheeks, the giant smile stayed there for the whole duration of the call, to the point that even Solomon found it a bit unnerving.

And while he started working, you were still standing with your back against the closed door, with your fingers touching the exact place where your lips met, the sensation of it now forever carved in your memory. You honestly thought that he would stop you, but when instead he put his hand on your hip and leaned down to kiss you, you forgot how to breathe for a moment, and that weird feeling in your stomach appeared... Not exactly butterflies, but the one when you're in a car riding quickly, and there was a small hill or a bump... And for a short perfect moment, you felt light as a feather, and you could fly away to reach the heights you never dreamt of. And that’s what it was... A perfect little moment, tucked into months voided of colors…

It took you good twenty minutes to finally peel yourself from the door, but instead of going back to bed, you actually made it. Not to the military standards, of that you were sure, but at least it looked presentable. You took the packet of almonds, and at first, your hand also reached for your dad's journal, but it stopped, only hovering over it... After a moment without movement, you instead reached for a sketchbook and pencils... If you were at your place, you would have reached for watercolors, because for the first time in months, you were more in a mood for something other than blacks or greys.

Well... Postmates existed... Question was, would they be able to enter the base, or would you have to meet them at the gate? You put down the sketchbook back on the desk, took your phone, unlocked it, and immediately got overwhelmed by the number of notifications that appeared on the screen. At first, you froze, but because of the subtle scent of spruce all over you, you were able to start chipping at this giant iceberg. Most of the notifications came from the apps, so they were easy to deal with. Next came text messages. Mostly from your mother, brother, and a few close friends, which were still updating you, even though you were not replying. The majority of other texts contained condolences, but since they were from people you barely knew, you just... Ignored them. It seemed much less weird than replying "Thank you" after over two months.

With a heavy sigh, you finally opened the messages from Nick and scrolled to the first unread one... Which was a meme with his cat containing four pictures of him with his head in the pack of chips, looking in different directions, evidently confused, because he couldn’t figure out how to take the bag off, with the caption "Father...? Father!? Why have you forsaken me...?". You couldn't help but chuckle a bit. After a week of nothing, there was a short video from a hike, showing the landscape from somewhere high up; you didn't recognize it though. Next, there was another video, this time of his cat again, who tried to throw a speaker from the desk, but instead of achieving that, he himself fell off the desk. And message after message, video after video, meme after meme you finally got through the whole conversation. The last one was from just a couple of hours ago when the sun was still hidden behind the horizon. There was a small bonfire with his voiceover. "Hey... I know it's been some time since we saw each other, but mum told me that we'll be clearing dad’s office together. And I just wanted to let you know that I'm here for you no matter what, and I miss you terribly... I hope to see you then, but if you're not ready..." his voice cracked a bit, and that hurt you more than you expected. "If you're not ready, then you're not ready. I just hope you're getting through it...". The video ended and you were left with an emptiness in your heart, because only now you realized that along with losing his dad, Nicky also lost his sister. You were so engulfed in your own sorrow, that you didn't even think about it, cutting everything and everyone off... You instantly pressed the icon starting the video call and straightened yourself in the armchair.

He answered almost immediately. The video was choppy at his end, but you were still able to see that he was somewhere in the forest.

- Siema siostra! - you rarely saw him so excited, and you just couldn't help but laugh a bit. – Finally, rose from the dead? Shit. Sorry. - he realized what he said as soon as the words left his mouth, and if you heard it just a week ago, you would have had a full-blown panic attack, but now, still feeling the gentle touch on your lips, you were... fine.

- Figure of speech, I get it. - you gave him a faint smile, and he finally stopped walking. - And I am slowly getting through it... - you circled back to the last video you received from him.

- That's good to hear, good to hear... - he looked at the camera and smiled. - Where are you by the way? Mum was going crazy yesterday... - you sighed quietly. There was no sense in lying to him because he knew you far too well to believe you when you were bullshitting.

- I'm on base, but I'm... well... in hiding. You know since I'm not exactly supposed to be here. I have help though! And I'm actually eating! - he knew that there were periods when you had real troubles with that because he was usually the first one to notice when you weren't... He was a great older brother, even though you basically hated each other's guts when you were growing up, and it took a lot of time for you to get to the place you were now.

- My sister, a secret agent man... - he genuinely laughed, but didn't dig any deeper, even though you knew he knew you weren't saying the whole trough. - Wha... tr... eve... pl...

- Nicky, you're cutting out... - you tried to refresh the feed, but it looked like he was too deep in the forest to have good reception.

- Recep... it... - and the call dropped. You instantly got a message from him. "The reception is shit, sorry. It was good to see you. I'll call tomorrow evening, pinky promise."

You smiled and replied that it was good to see him too...

And now that your messages were taken care of, you got to the final beast, which was your emails... Again, there were a lot of condolences, but along with them, there were also a lot from your agent, about every single sale, and you couldn't believe how many of them he sent you... Usually, you were able to sell 4, maybe 6 paintings per month, but considering their usual prices, you were actually more than financially comfortable, but you just didn't care about that. And here there were... 80 paintings sold, almost all you had listed. You honestly couldn't believe it... Over 5 years of work sold in just two months. And then you realized what probably happened. Your dad's death was on the news... Since "Kazansky" wasn't exactly a popular last name, more people were finding you because of his death...

And that was enough to make your heart sink deeper into your chest.

In the last email, your agent mentioned that a gallery wanted to contact you regarding a possible exhibit, which under any other circumstances would have been amazing, but now everything was tainted, and you weren't even sure if you wanted to sell anything anymore... So instead of ordering paints and a small canvas, you put your phone down and reached for a journal that you had already memorized and started re-reading it with your knees under your chin; the unopened pack of almonds already forgotten.

Beau came back around noon, and as soon as he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks, the ones you didn't even notice for the last hour, he kneeled in front of you and after putting the tray with food on the desk, took the journal out of your hands, and forced you to look him in the eyes... Which opened the dam, and you started sobbing, finally allowing yourself to break down. You leaned forward and desperately reached for him, and he pulled you closer, allowing your arms to find their way around his body, and your face to hide in his neck...

- Shhh... Shhhh... It's ok, you're ok... - he whispered, slid his strong arms under you, and turned both of you around in such a way, that you were currently sitting on him, while he was sitting on the floor. - Can you tell me what happened? - he asked, not letting you go even for a second, and trying to soothe you by gently rubbing your back and swaying front and back, but you weren't ready to say anything just yet... Seeing you in this state was breaking his heart, and his chest actually ached, because the helplessness was turning into physical pain. He wanted, needed, to help you, but he couldn't do anything except just being there for you.

It took some time, but you eventually calmed down, and he rubbed the tears from your cheeks for the millionth time, but it was the first time you actually were aware that he was doing it...

- Did you know that I paint...? - you asked, your voice still shaky and quiet. He nodded and allowed you to explain. - I even have an agent. And I finally got through the emails from him. Over 250 of them to be exact... 3 per painting... One with all the offers, one with the winning bid, and one with confirmation of payment... Over 80 paintings sold in two months, because people heard my dad's last name on the news... - you started crying again, even the thought of it too heavy to bear alone. And fortunately, you didn't have to say anything more, because Beau understood what you meant.

- Would he blame you for being happy, or would he be proud of your success? - he asked quietly. Logically you knew that your dad would never want to see you the way you were now... All broken, overwhelmed by guilt, and unable to function... Especially if he knew that he was the reason you were like that. He would be ready to do anything just so you could be better... Except not dying...

Did you actually blame him for dying and leaving you alone?

Even thinking that scared you, because that was the last thing you wanted to do... You knew how much he suffered, you were there to witness all the pain, the guilt, the helplessness. You knew it wasn't his fault... But... That accusatory feeling somehow snaked its way into your brain and coiled around your grief unnoticed until now.

Logically you knew that it wasn't his fault, that he didn't choose it. For fucks sake, he fought till there was no hope left... He went through all the treatments, all procedures, and searched for international trials; he didn't just... give up. And yet... you couldn't help what you felt and that made you cry even harder because now you were getting angry at yourself, for even thinking like that. It wasn't rational, you knew that, but those emotions didn't want to just disappear.

- I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm talking about... - Beau whispered and hugged you even harder, almost crushing you in his arms.

- It's... It's not you... It's my fucking stupid brain. - you said in between sobs. - You're amazing... I'm... I don't deserve... - you couldn't even finish that sentence, because another wave pulled you under the surface and you lost the ability to think about anything coherent. There were just negative emotions festering in your head and you couldn't even let them out... You didn't even know how...

- Scream... - his voice managed to get through all the walls you were building up in real-time, and the meaning of it confused you enough, that for just a moment you came back to reality. You wanted to ask something along "what...?" but the word didn't manage to get through the giant ball in your throat - Scream. Just scream. As loud and as you can. - you were still confused, and Beau seemed to read your mind because he added. - There is no one in this part of the base, everyone is either eating or in training. Scream. - and that was enough...

At first, you struggled to get any sound out. Then it was strained and quiet, but after you took a deep breath and opened your mouth again, a full-blown, primal scream left your lungs. It was filled with anger, shame, guilt, blame... All the things that were stewing in your brain packaged not so neatly in one action.

You didn't even realize when you got out of his embrace, but you found yourself kneeling on the floor, screaming at it, as if was all its fault. You stayed like that until there were no more tears left, and no more voices in your brain, not even your own... You simply collapsed and Beau scooped you up again. You wanted to thank him, say anything, but your voice was long gone, and it would be a moment till it comes back.

You were exhausted, so you were more than grateful when he put you under the covers and kneeled, so your faces were on the same level. He wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, and you gently wrapped your fingers around his hand while it was still in contact with your skin, guided it to your lips and - without breaking eye contact - pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. You were ready to let go of him, but instead, he mirrored your actions by pulling both of your hands closer to him and pressing a soft kiss to your hand.

- I hate leaving you... - he whispered against your soft skin and closed his eyes, taking in both the sensation and your scent. - Go to sleep, babygirl... - there was that pet name again... In his mouth, it sounded so soft and full of something you weren't ready to name yet. You definitely didn't mind it, but you were never called that before, so getting used to it might take a moment.

He returned your hand close to your chest but didn't move until your breathing changed to a familiar pattern that showed up when you were asleep. He didn't want to leave when you were still conscious, because he was afraid you might start to spiral again... And considering how much energy the last hour took from you, he doubted you'll be awake when he'll finish working, which wasn't ideal because you haven't eaten today yet, but he knew forcing you to do so right now would not be good. But he still came back in around 10 minutes and brought a thermal mug full of tea with ginger and honey.

Beau was right because when he came back after a full day of working, you were still in the same position and nothing in the room changed. He took his thermal mug from where he left it, and gently cupped your face, trying to wake you up.

When you opened your eyes and he was the first thing you saw, you couldn't help but smile, for a short blissful moment forgetting about what happened earlier. He took your hand in his and placed it on a mug. You wanted to thank him, but your voice was lost, and the memory of what happened flooded back into your brain, and all the thoughts and emotions came back with it. You froze and he seemed to know exactly what was happening in your head.

He helped you sit up, unlocked the mug, gently guided it to your lips, and you took a first sip of a pleasantly hot tea. And then another one... The warmth of it mixed with honey soothed your throat, and you were finally able to say something.

- I'm sorry... - by his expression, you instantly realized that it was the wrong thing to say.

- You have nothing to apologize for. Everyone is grieving in different ways, and yours is not wrong. - he gave you the softest of smiles, and you leaned in a bit to press your foreheads together, a memory from today's morning slithering its way into your brain, but neither of you did anything more. That small gesture was more than enough, and it was comforting you in ways you couldn't even describe.

- I feel like I'm a burden... Like I only take and take from you... - you closed your eyes because it was the only way to break eye contact without putting space in between your foreheads.

- You could never be a burden to me, no matter what... - he whispered so quietly, that if you were just a bit further away, you wouldn't be able to hear it, but you did... And it sounded like something he was afraid to admit even in front of himself, not to mention you. You opened your eyes again, wanting to gaze into his, but they were closed. You wanted to ask why he said that, but you already knew the answer... And you definitely weren't ready to hear it from his mouth...

- It's Friday today, isn't it...? - you asked, and you felt him nodding. - And you're not working on weekends, correct?

- We can stay here, that won't be an issue. - he said, his voice more confident.

- That's not why I'm asking... Can... - you couldn't believe what you were about to say. - Can you take me to your place...? - his eyes shot open, and he leaned back in shock.

- God yes! - he answered with relief before you even finished asking the question. - Don't get me wrong, I enjoy having you here, but everything is... - before you realized what you were doing, you leaned in and kissed him, stopping his rant in its tracks.

Your hand instinctively found its way into his hair, while the other rested lightly on his shoulder. Suddenly you were aware of everything your body experienced... The rough material under your fingers, the smoothness of his hair, the warmth of his neck, the softness of his lips, so ready to invite you in… And you dove deep, without even thinking; chasing the sensation that was both new and familiar. Your heart was galloping faster and faster with every tender touch, the warmth in your chest turned into a roaring fire and your head was among the clouds because, with every breath you shared, you got higher and higher.

He was devouring you in ways you never thought possible, his hands pulling you closer by your hips. He was frantic and delicate at the same time as if he was restraining himself in fear of somehow hurting you, but you didn't want that... You wanted him to be real, to know who and what he was like under this hard shell he shared with the world, so you bit his lower lip and pulled on it gently, a soft smile blooming on your face. He responded with a low growl, followed your movements, and caught you in another kiss, this time more impatient, more hungry, more... messy... And you gave right in, allowing him to lead the dance your tongues shared until you were properly out of breath. But even after your lips parted, your skin was tingling all over, and there was that feeling in your stomach again, while so many colors flooded your brain.

- I need to ask you to do things for me more often... - you finally broke the silence, and he chuckled in response.

- Yeah, it was definitely worth the wait... - he was still kneeling on the floor in between your legs, and you didn't even realize when your ankles found their way around his thighs.

- How long have you been waiting for it... exactly...? - you asked in a joking matter, pressing your foreheads together again in search of the echo of that intimacy.

- I plead the 5th... - he laughed softly in response, but you knew one day he'll tell you everything, but now he was still afraid you would run away if you knew. - Fuck, I feel like a teenager again. - he moved one of his hands to your cheek and gently caressed your skin with his thumb, and you leaned into that touch.

- And I feel more like myself... - you put your hand over his, and moved it slowly, so you could press a soft kiss on his palm. - Can we go now...? - you asked, completely disregarding the fact that you were still wearing the clothes you’d slept in.

- We can. - he pressed a soft kiss to your lips; an echo of passion was still audible in his actions. It didn't take you long to get ready, because you didn't have a lot of things with you, and everything - including the things Beau got for you - fit into your bag. You had to change into your own pants, because you didn't want to walk outside in shorts, or much too big sweatpants, but you kept his gray t-shirt, throwing your dad's jacket over it. When you started searching for your shoes, Cyclone reached for them under the bed, where he left them that first night, he brought you here. But before you were able to put them on yourself, he gently pushed you to sit on the bed, put them on your feet, and laced them tightly for you. He also offered you his hand when he finished, to help you get up. Not that you needed help, but you enjoyed touching him in any way you could, and he seemed to feel the same way.

You wanted to hold his hand while you walked through the corridors, but you knew it would be seen as inappropriate, so you just put up the hood of the jacket and put on the aviators to make yourself less recognizable, although you seriously doubted that it would work if you encountered someone you knew. And fortunately, gods spared you that awkwardness because you hated lying.

You were a bit surprised when the car that reacted to his keys was Jeep Wrangler because you were expecting something more... classic. Not that you were complaining, it was just... unexpected, but considering how little you actually knew about him, you had a lot of catching up to do.

You wanted to curl up in the front seat, but you didn't want to put your shoes on the breathable material, so you sat there, feeling a little bit like a kid, but in a good way. You weren't exactly used to following rules, even the simplest ones, which was surprising to most people who knew your dad from the military.

As soon as you started voicing your opinions, you and Nicky were able to defend your point of view in front of your parents, and if your arguments were sound, you were able to proceed with whatever you had planned; they allowed you to make your own mistakes and learn from them just so you'd be prepared for the hardships of the real world. And even though they didn't always agree with your choices, they respected both of you enough not to force you onto a certain path they imagined for you.

And while your brother went into a more... conventional direction with software engineering and app development, you craved too much freedom for any typical career. And when you discovered painting... Well, everything else was history. You had to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously at first, but after the 4th competition won, your father realized that it wasn't just a fluke, and there was a real possibility for you to achieve a lot, even though he didn’t completely understand it. In the end, he was the one who started doing research about fine art colleges, and internships before you were even done with high school. And when you had your first exhibit, he was the one who cheered you the loudest and invited all his friends from the navy, because he wanted to show off his little girl.

And then you realized something... You were able to think about your dad without going into a complete spiral for the first time in ages, and you couldn't help but smile. It was a small thing, but it meant that you were slowly getting back to normal, and that was something that gave you an unimaginable amount of peace.

- Do you want to swing by your house to get something? - Beau asked, and you had to think for a moment before replying.

- House no... - you finally said; you weren't ready to face whatever was waiting for you there. - But my studio... - you looked at him and he just nodded.

- What's the address? - you gave it to him, and he adjusted the route accordingly.

It didn't take you long to actually get there, but you were a little bit afraid to get out of the car and walk up three flights of stairs. And then you realized that you haven't even asked.

- Would it be ok if I painted at your house...? - your voice got almost completely drowned in traffic noises.

- You can do whatever you want in my house. - he replied with a soft smile, and he meant what he said. - Do you want me to come with you? - he wanted to help, but he didn't want to impose. You shook your head for no; you knew how your studio looked and you weren't ready to share that with him just yet, even though he already knew your life at the moment was messy. - If you'll change your mind, I'm here... - he hesitated for a short moment, but he eventually took your hand into his and brought it to his lips to place a small kiss on the back of it, and it gave you enough courage to face whatever was waiting for you upstairs.

You tried not to look around too much while grabbing your gym bag from the closet, because you were afraid that you might start to spiral again, but fortunately, you managed to avoid that. You packed a few more sets of underwear, a pair of shorts, and leggings. In a moment of boldness, you skipped shirts and t-shirts, because his gave you much more comfort than your own, and you were planning on continuing wearing them. You also packed your hair and face cosmetics, and that was it from necessities, but it wasn't everything you packed...

You also took a ceramic pot you used to brew your tea in, the tea itself, your favorite mug made by one of your friends, and a small cat figurine you didn't even plan on taking out of the bag when you were at his place because just the knowledge of having it with you was comforting.

Next, you took a big canvas bag and started throwing brushes, sponges, rollers, different types of paints and inks, primers, varnish, and all the other things you needed to paint and prepare a canvas. The last thing you took, were thin wooden slats you made frames out of, to stretch the canvas on, and the roll of the canvas itself; it was much easier to travel with it deconstructed, and you didn't know what size you'd need just yet. You quickly left your apartment without looking at everything too much, and you carefully walked down the stairs. When you opened the building doors, you saw Beau standing next to the car, ready to help, if you needed it. You didn't, but just looking at him made you smile.

He took your bags from you, put them in the back, and opened the door of the car for you, and before you knew it, you were crossing a border to the gated community he apparently lived in. All the houses here looked... new. And expensive. And not at all like something you were used to.

He eventually stopped in front of a big suburban house with a double garage door in front. It looked like it had at least four bedrooms, which was - again - surprising.

- Do you... live... alone? - you asked while the doors to the garage were opening, because you just assumed that he did, but you didn't know for sure.

- Yeah... - he sighed. - I know it's a giant house for one person, but I've bought it quite some time ago when I still hoped to start a family... Work kind of got in the way somewhere along the way. - he explained - I honestly admire your father for managing to... - he realized what he said, and his eyes instantly snapped to you in search of signs that something was wrong, but there were none.

- Honestly, it was rough... I remember I learn how to count by counting the nights he was away, and the highest I got was 303 when he was deployed. - you said quietly, a weak smile on your face. - When I was a kid, I always put him on a pedestal, but when I learned more about the world and wars... Well, let's just say that our relationship wasn't always perfect, and it took a lot of therapy to get us to... well... to get us where you saw us. - you explained quietly, leaving Beau a little bit speechless. Neither of you said anything when he was parking, but he helped you with your things.

It was weird, because on the one hand, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be, but on the other, you felt a bit like you were intruding, especially when he gave you a quick tour of his house. It was much more modern than you expected, and it lacked... him. As if someone else decorated the house to what they thought a bachelor would like. That was until you got to the main bedroom, and you instantly felt the warmth spilling in your chest.

The bed was massive with dark grey and navy sheets, but it wasn't the main feature of the room, because it was facing a wall filled with books from top to bottom, and the ceiling was high. You couldn't stop yourself from coming closer to check out the titles and run your fingers over the spines. You noticed that they were segregated by genre and in the genre - by the author's last name, which didn't surprise you. What surprised you was the fact that there were quite a few high fantasy books, which caught your attention, and when you turned around to ask, the words got stuck in your throat as soon as you laid your eyes on him.

Technically it wasn't anything special, because he looked exactly the same as he looked over the whole time you knew him, but something changed... He was still in his beige uniform, which shirt you buttoned up in the morning, and to which you attached his ribbons. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed on his chest, but his eyes and the way he looked at you... It almost made you blush because you never saw that expression on his face... The corners of his lips raised slightly in a gentle smile, cheeks just a bit higher, making those beautiful smile lines in the corners of his eyes, and the eyes... You instantly relaxed, and it was an involuntary reaction. Was it even possible to develop such strong feelings so quickly, or was it just a weird reaction to your grief? Will you ever be able to tell...?

- You can take anything you want... - he said, and something in his voice told you he didn't mean it just about books, but you left that as it was. Before you'd have that conversation, you will have to come to terms with whatever was happening in your own head. - I'm going to make dinner. - he said, but you stopped him with a gesture and walked closer to him.

You gently unpinned first the wings, then the ribbon rack, and he realized what you were doing; you were home... He wasn't supposed to be in uniform at home... Well, it wasn't forbidden, but he realized that you wanted him to leave the navy behind closed doors for the weekend, and somehow you managed you fit so many things into such a small gesture... That you wanted him to relax, that you wanted to know him better outside of work, that you were taking the exact amount of initiative you were ready for, that he wasn't forcing you into anything, that you were comfortable enough with him to know that even now, when you were slowly unbuttoning his shirt, he wouldn't assume anything. You were showing him that you trusted him without saying one word...

When you got to the lower buttons, you had to gently tug on the material to get it out from the inside of his trousers, and the movement caused his very subtle scent to surround you, which made you smile just a little.

Under the button-up, there was a white t-shirt. You very slowly slipped your hands under it, letting your fingers graze his skin and chest hair, while he was watching your every move with inhuman intensity. When the material rode up high enough, he helped you pull it over his head, but you were the one to take it off completely.

- How do you do this...? - you asked with your hands still on his chest. - How do you make me feel so safe and so calm...? - neither of you knew that, so the question hung unanswered and then he covered your hand with his.

- Does it matter...? - he eventually answered with another question, and after thinking for a moment you shook your head. - Then it doesn't matter, but I'm happy I can do that for you. - he moved your hand to his lips and place a soft kiss on it. - Would you mind if we ate in the garden today? I feel like grilling something... - it wasn't the warmest of days, but it was still the end of the summer, and there were always blankets. Plus - fresh air would do you good.

He went to the walk-in closet and quickly changed, while you were acutely studying everything that was in it. Which if you had to be honest - wasn't much and barely half of it was filled. But you still clocked one item that you instantly gravitated towards - an old gray hoodie with a washed-out naval academy logo. You run your fingers over the material and smiled. He said that you could take anything you wanted... So you did. You pulled it off the hanger and put it on. It was much softer on the inside than on the outside, the sleeves were too long, it reached halfway down your thighs and the hood covered your entire face... It was perfect.

Beau was the one who gently pulled the hood back, so you could see and for a brief moment, his hand rested on your cheek... He was so gentle with you, but you knew it wasn't because he was afraid that you would break; you were used to this type of behavior from different people, but he... He was just gentle. And soft. And warm... Without any specific reason.

You didn't even have to ask for a blanket, because he already had one prepared when you stepped onto the back porch. It wasn't anything special... Well, there was a currently covered pool, and a fire pit, but when it came to plants... there was almost nothing, and you felt a little bit disappointed, but that was your own fault because when he mentioned the garden, you were expecting at least a few trees and maybe a veggie patch... And some flowers... But that was your problem, not his. He was already kind enough to take you in.

Still wrapped in a thick blanket, you chose to sit on the swing with your knees curled up and a sketchbook in your hands, while he was preparing food a few meters away from you, and you honestly could get used to that... You were happy to just observe him, but after a few minutes a compulsion to draw won, so you cracked the spine of a brand-new sketchbook he bought for you and started sketching.

His face was already committed to your memory forever, so it wasn't hard for you to do a quick outline of the proportions, and after that you cleaned it a bit, looking at Beau from time to time, even though you didn't need to... But you wanted to... You slowly added more details, starting with hair, but they weren't neatly combed like they were now. You used the image from your head, from when he was in bed with you after taking a shower at night; they had much more volume and suited him more in your opinion. Next came the nose, which took you only a minute, but his lips... You spent so much time looking at them and thinking about them, that even the tiniest details were carved in your memory, and you took your time pouring them out on paper because you wanted to do them justice. And lastly - his eyes and everything around them... You had to close yours for a moment to recall and analyze the expression he looked at you with only half an hour ago...

Just as you were finishing, the smell of something cooking hit your nostrils, and you peeked at what he was doing. On a special plate on the grill, there were potatoes with some herbs, bell peppers, onions... And even though you couldn't see it, you could smell it, so you knew somewhere in there, there was also garlic and rosemary. As if he could feel your gaze on him, he turned around catching you in the act and looking at you with the exact same expression that was looking at you from your sketchbook.

You turned the page in his direction, but from his perspective, the light pencil was barely visible, so he came closer, and you passed the notebook to him, so he could take a closer look.

- That's not... - he started, but quickly stopped and thought about what he really meant. - I don't think I've ever seen myself looking like that... - it took him a moment to react.

- That's what I see when you look at me... - you simply shrugged and he shifted his gaze back to you, as if unsure what to say. There were a few minutes of silence before he spoke again, this time much quieter.

- Am I that obvious...? - his voice was almost a whisper as if he was afraid that anything louder would shatter the moment.

- It's... complicated. - you sighed. - And I promise we will talk about it, but I am not ready for that conversation yet, it's too soon. But I... - you hesitated. - I don't want to be anywhere but with you. For now, it will have to be enough, I'm sorry that I can't give you more... - the last part was barely audible.

- You have nothing to apologize for because you don't have to give me anything... - he passed the still-opened sketchbook back to you and you couldn't help but look at your drawing again. - And when you're ready - we will talk. - he didn't even have to say that he was more than ok with waiting, because you were definitely worth any wait. - But first - food. - you technically weren't even hungry, but you knew you should eat... And with Beau cooking, it would be extremely hard to say no without poking a hole in your bag of issues. Plus - logically you knew your body needed it, so you didn't protest when he brought you a dark blue plate with chicken and veggies cut to bite-size pieces even before cooking.

He sat on the swing next to you and very gently started moving it using just one of his legs.

- What's your favorite ice cream flavor? - you asked right after you swallowed the first piece of roasted potato and he looked at you with surprise, but as soon as he realized what you were doing, he shifted a bit, so now his body was facing you, and you did the same.

- Hazelnut... But it's followed closely by salted caramel. You? - he replied and now it was his turn to take a bite.

- Lemon sherbet with basil... - you usually had to make it on your own, because there weren't many companies that carried that specific flavor.

- That's a bit unusual... - he couldn't help but smile, but he wasn't even surprised, because nothing about you was usual. - What kind of music do you like? - this time he asked the question.

- Just... Music... It really depends on my mood. I have hundreds of playlists I've made over the years, so it would be hard for me to choose just one of them. - you took a small break to eat a few pieces of veggies. - Although I focus more on the song itself than on the creator. And sure, there are a few that I'd enjoy no matter what, like House of the Rising Sun or Work Song, but overall - my music taste is all over the place. - your throat still hurt a bit from the screaming earlier today, but not enough to stop you from talking.

- If you let me, I'd love to hear a few of your playlists. Do you have them on Apple Music? - he asked, and you chuckled.

- Spotify. We're an android house because of my lovely brother. - Beau was really easy to talk to and you found yourself wanting to do it more often, and since you were already in his house, it should be easy to do.

- Nicholas? - he made sure he remembered the name correctly, and you realized that you weren't even sure if the two of them ever met.

- Nick. Or Nicky... - you corrected, because your brother hated the full version of his name with a passion, and Beau only nodded once, acknowledging the change. - Do you have any siblings? - you couldn't help but ask and he sighed heavily.

- Yeaaahhhh... Four sisters. One older, and three younger. - you weren't sure what you were expecting, but it wasn't this, and you almost choked.

- That's... - you didn't even know what to say.

- A lot? - he offered, and you nodded. - My father wanted another son after me and well... It didn't go according to plan. - he chuckled.

- Would you mind telling me a bit more about your family? - and he did. He started with his older sister and their rocky relationship due to their parents giving him more attention, and then he moved down, telling you about how he always felt responsible for the younger ones, how he played with them and braided their hair, and how he felt guilty leaving them behind when he joined the navy.

And you listened to his stories from childhood until your plate was empty, and when it was, you put it on the floor next to the swing, brought your knees to your chest, and just... listened. It was your turn to get to know him, since he had a substantial head start in that department, and you were happy to learn every little detail he was willing to share.

The sun was already hidden behind the horizon, and you couldn't help but look around the... so-called garden, and he immediately saw that someone was bugging you.

- What's wrong? - he asked quietly, reaching to touch you, and as soon as his fingers were on your calf, you moved closer to him and awkwardly turned around, draping the blanket over both of you. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer, happy to share some warmth with you.

- Nothing's wrong... - you said, and it wasn't a lie. - There are just a few things I miss, and when you said you had a garden... I just miss nature. - you didn't want to add why exactly you missed it, but to Beau - it was obvious. - It's so quiet here... We're outside, but there are no frogs, no bugs buzzing around, no crickets in the background, no nothing... Well, besides a few moths and mosquitos. - you could feel him chuckle behind you. - And please don't get it the wrong way, I'm extremely happy to be here with you, and it's just something I miss.

- It's ok... I understand what you mean. - he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. - It's... sterile, a blank canvas. - and that was exactly what you meant, so you couldn't help but look back at him. - I'm not spending much time here... Sure, it's my house, but it was decorated by someone else because I didn't have time to do it myself. I paid someone to design the backyard in such a way, that it wouldn't require much maintenance, because I knew I wouldn't have time to take care of it. I always imagined that one day it will change, but... - he didn't have to finish, because you knew what he was about to say... If not for your mother, your house would have white walls and barely any decorations.

- The bedroom... - you whispered, and it suddenly made sense. - You decorated it yourself, didn't you...? - you asked, but you already knew the answer even before he nodded. That’s why you felt so safe and comfortable there; the one room he actually took time to work on.

You yawned, the exhaustion from today finally catching up with you; you knew it would be a while before you'll be at full strength again, but you felt safe enough not to rush that process.

- Do you want to go to sleep...? - he asked quietly.

- Mhmmm... But shower first... - you mumbled in response, but you didn't move to get up just yet, which made him smile. He pressed his cheek against your head, a plan for tomorrow slowly taking shape in his head. It would take him a moment to prepare everything, but it will be worth it.

- Go then... I'll clean around here and join you when I'll finish. - and with a quiet groan you finally started moving. Still wrapped in the soft blanket that now smelled like smoke, you went upstairs to the bedroom, where all your things were.

His shower was abysmally giant, almost a completely separate room with a rain shower and a bench to sit on. He already prepared a set of soft, dark blue towels for you, which you put to good use. You also neatly placed your things on the side of the counter, so they would be within reach, but not in the way. Technically there were two sinks, one completely empty, but... it just didn't feel right.

You peeked out of the bathroom to see if he was already in the bedroom, but it was empty, so you felt more comfortable sneaking into his walk-in wardrobe in just a towel tightly wrapped around your body. You gravitated towards the back of the room, where the older, more worn things were, and you unceremoniously took a black t-shirt with the logo of a band you didn't recognize and put it on. It was so soft against your skin, that you closed your eyes, relishing that sensation.

Since he wasn't in the room just yet, you picked one of the titles from the high fantasy section and started reading it in bed, but the warmth from the shower, and the fact that everywhere you looked, you could feel him, made you doze off before you realized what was happening.

It took Beau over an hour to prepare everything for tomorrow; he even dug through the decoration boxes in the garage to find the fairy lights he usually used to decorate his nieces’ room whenever they visited. The food for tomorrow was already prepared in the fridge, and everything else he would need was already packed.

When he came into the bedroom, you were already asleep, curled around one of his books. He gently took it out of your hands, put it on the nightstand, and turned the lamp off, so the light wouldn't interfere with your sleep.

He took a very quick shower, taking notice of the small trail of things you left in the bathroom with a smile; you were in his house for just a few hours, and he already loved everything about it. It was like you were meant to be there like you fit perfectly into empty spaces in his life.

Curiosity won, and he couldn't help but smell and read the labels of the creams and other things you were using, so he'd be better prepared next time you needed anything like that.

When he finally lay in bed and turned the lights off, he couldn't help the quiet groan. It's not like the beds on base were unreasonably uncomfortable, but he missed his own, even if that meant you were a bit further away. He didn't want to wake you up or assume anything, but as soon as he let out that groan, you started to shift in your sleep. For a short moment, he was afraid he woke you up, but he didn't; you were still sound asleep. But that didn't stop you from shuffling under the giant duvet in search of something, and as soon as your hand blindly found his torso, you let out a deeper breath and pulled yourself even closer to his body, which resulted in a giant smile on his face... even subconsciously you wanted to be near him...

So, he wrapped his arms around you and finally closed his eyes. He wasn't ready to fall asleep just yet; it was too early for that for him, but he just wanted to enjoy that moment of vulnerability with you.

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

#my writing #TW: ED #TW: Panic Attack #TW: grieving #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #beau simpson x reader #Cyclone x reader #Beau Simpson fanfiction #Beau Cyclone Simpson fanfiction #Beau Cyclone Simpson x reader #Cyclone fanfiction #🖤#📏

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twistedtummies2 · 9 months

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A Day Beneath the King (Kink Fic; LeonaXReader)

WARNING: IF YOU ARE NOT 18+, TURN BACK IMMEDIATELY. THIS IS NOT A STORY FOR YOU, SO DO NOT READ IT, PLEASE. EVERYBODY GOT THAT? GOOD.

Yesterday was International Underwear Day. Yes, really. That’s a thing. I was too late to make anything for that on time, BUT I did decide to finish this complete madhouse of kinky weirdness featuring Leona Kingscholar from “Twisted Wonderland.” For a long time, I’ve toyed around with the idea of ass entrapment; a tiny partner/preything being trapped in/with the rump of their giant-sized beau/predator for a while. I decided, as an experiment (and since I’ve had booties on the brain lately) to write up a trial of a story focused entirely on that kink. And who better to help with this experiment than my God and Master of Fiction, Leona? This story contains rump smushing/smothering, butt crushing, ass entrapment, implied vore, various macro/micro elements, and general insanity. If none of that sounds like something you want to read, you have one last chance to turn back. If you’re still here...enjoy the ride. I know I did. >///>

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“Hmph. You know, Herbivore…I always thought you were cute, but at this size? Heh…I think even a mouse would say you’re adorable.”

A fittingly mouse-like squeak was the only audible response you had to offer, as you gazed up at your titan-sized boyfriend. When Leona Kingscholar had invited you to his dorm room, with the promise of a special “anniversary surprise,” you hadn’t expected it to be a faceful of Sam’s patented, long-lasting shrinking powder. Now, you were smaller than a rodent, while Leona’s handsome form loomed over you. A smug look of amusement was upon his scarred yet supremely beautiful face, while his green eyes glowed with a keen, almost ravenous sort of gleam…which, to be fair, seemed to be their usual setting. Your heart was hammering hard in your chest, for many reasons. Not the least of them was the fact that Leona was almost naked: it was still morning, and the lazy lion hadn’t yet gotten dressed for the day’s activity. His tanned, toned form leered down at you in all its glory; his well-shaped six pack abs pulsed with his breath, his large, heavy feet planted down on either side of your. His dark mane cast shadows across his face, giving an almost evil yet deeply entrancing veneer to his supercilious expression. “What’s the matter?” he purred. “Cat got your tongue?” He grinned, showing off his fangs as you were helpless to do anything but sputter mindlessly. Your faculties for speech and proper thought were all but kaput…seeing all that warm, inviting, smooth skin…seeing that gorgeous body…seeing those sharp teeth and that hungry look in his eyes… You weren’t sure exactly how small you were - less than three inches, to be certain - but you somehow felt totally microscopic now. As if you were in the presence of a God. You didn’t dare tell Leona that, though: the big jerk had an ego the size of a hot air balloon already, after all. With a rumble that seemed to make the floor beneath your feet quake, one of Leona’s strong, long-fingered hands reached out and scooped you up, carefully lifting you into the air as he rose from his squatting position. He stood at his full height, his free hand resting upon his plush, curved hip, which he cocked slightly as he inspected you within his grasp. His grip was firm yet tender; not painful, but certainly not easy to break. You wiggled instinctively, and watched him grin once more. “Don’t struggle, worm,” he teased, playfully, swishing his rope-like tail. “Now that’s just an uncalled for name,” you muttered, trying not to show how much the demeaning taunt made you blush. You were pretty sure you failed. “Well, I guess you’re right,” shrugged Leona. “If you were a worm, I’d just squish you.” A slightly sadistic shimmer came to his fanged smile as he gave you a squeeze…then chuckled as you squeaked once more. “Such a pathetic little thing,” he cooed, then raised an eyebrow. “How are you enjoying my anniversary surprise so far, hmmm?” “W-Well, I’m…mostly wondering WHY you’ve shrunk me?” you decided to ask, rather shyly. It was clear Leona was in a mean mood, and you really didn’t want to upset him when he was in that state. He could be scary even when he WASN’T in such a mood…but to be fair, giving in to his dominating presence had never exactly been something you tried hard to deny. You loved being his, and he loved knowing that. “I decided to give you a gift,” said Leona. “You’re going to take a backseat position for the rest of the day. Call it a favor: today, you don’t need to do any schoolwork. You don’t have to walk to class, run on the PE field, deal with those smelly chemicals in the lab…” “I’m guessing, at this point, there’s a catch involved,” you drawled. After all, he hadn’t just shrunk you to give you a break. You knew him too well to expect or believe that. “Depends on what you mean by catch,” answered Leona, slyly.

He then leaned close, and you squirmed as his sharp nose nuzzled against you. You could feel his nostrils flare as he not-so-subtly sniffed, taking in your scent. The intimacy was only enhanced by the vast size difference; you felt as if his nose, itself, was larger than you were. “Mmmm…I’m gonna keep you with me the whole day,” Leona growled, in a possessive sort of way. “No one else gets to see you. No one else gets to FEEL you. For our anniversary, I’m making sure that You’re. All. Mine. So, now that you’re so tiny…” He lapped his tongue over you, making you squeal as saliva was slapped across your side. “Mmmmaaaaah…I’m going to put you away somewhere,” Leona breathed, the warm, humid, meat-scented air wafting over you when he spoke. “Somewhere close…somewhere warm…somewhere dark…heh, probably doesn’t smell too good, probably very tight…but you’ll be safe. For a while, anyway.” You gulped as you saw him lick his perfect lips. “I…I’m g-guessing that ‘somewhere’ is…uh…right down there?” you eeked out, pointing down towards his bare belly. Leona laughed, his free hand rubbing up and down over his washboard abs. “As tempting as that is, not this time,” he answered. “I’ve got somewhere else in mind to hold onto you for the day.” You must have looked quite confused, for Leona’s sneaky smile widened. “I told you before,” he said, his voice dropping an octave in a husky, dusky way. “You’re taking a BACKSEAT position today.” The hand that caressed his belly moved down and around. The fingertips brushed over his pelvis, slid serenely across his hip and his thigh…and you felt something inside you flip-flop as you saw that hand rub up and down over the curve of one of his soft, round, well-padded rump cheeks. “Wait…w-wait, you…what…you…?” “Tch. You really need to stop stuttering, Herbivore,” scoffed Leona. “How can I enjoy you whimpering out my name if you can’t even talk straight?’ “Ass,” was all you could say. Leona grinned wider than ever. “Heh. You got it right,” he chuckled, and then lowered you carefully. “Now, take a deep breath, Herbivore. It’s probably the last bit of fresh air you’re gonna taste for a while.” You felt your eyes widen as you soon found yourself hovering, in an easy grasp, over the small of Leona’s backside. You could see the y-shaped space beneath his supple tail, which acted as the entrance to cleft between his cushioned glutes. Those same glutes were soon plainly visible, as his other hand stretched the back of the elastic band of his underpants, revealing a warm, musky-smelly cave, lined in fabric and flesh. “Wait…w-wait, Leona, LEONA, HOLD ON…!” Leona wasn’t holding on, in any way. You scrabbled against his fingers, but - with a simple tip of the wrist - you tumbled from his hand and plunged straight down into the dark well in the back of his black-and-gold boxers. THWAPP! “Ahhhh…mmmmmm,” moaned Leona, eyes fluttering closed as he trapped you in the back of his underwear. He bit his lip and rumbled, a look of pure, possessive pleasure in his jade-colored eyes as one of his hands lightly caressed the cloth-covered softness of his ass, roaming his palm around the half-spherical curve of one of his plump, plush, well-stacked cheeks. “Welcome to the king’s ‘throne room,’ Herbivore,” he teased. “Hope you enjoy the view, because you won’t be seeing anything else unless I allow it.” Leona gave his butt a firm spank. His cheeks wobbled and bounced against each other from the impact…and against you. You tried to speak, but all you could really manage - at least at first - were muffled, wordless noises. The fat fanny mounds were smushing against either side of your face, your head pressing into the outermost layer of his booty canyon. Your arms were outstretched, firmly pinned between the fatty swells of his blubbery buttocks, and the tight-fitting fabric prison created by his boxers. You tried to move your legs, but they had slid into the crack itself; you could feel the silky, soft skin that lined the crevice swallowing up your feet. All around you was the oppressive warmth of the lion-man’s fat ass, his stacked cake baking your own skin with its heat. You tried to squirm, but Leona growled at your efforts. Muffled squeaking sounds left you, as he flexed his ass HARD around you, the cushioned, pudgy rump orbs cramming down on either side of you, like a vise formed from mattress cushions. “Hmph…MPH! PLMPH STRMPH! LNRMPH!” Your words were an unintelligible garble of noises, mixing panic and flustered frustration together. Your face felt very hot, and not just because of the dark heat of the ass-jail you were now spending time in. Leona grinned naughtily over his shoulder, rocking his hips from side to side, swaying his butt as he looked in the mirror. He could see the outline your body made as it pushed against his underwear…he teasingly ran one finger around the edges, crooning when he felt you squirm so deliciously against his power. It was so easy to own you this way…so easy to KEEP you… “Hope you’re enjoying yourself in there, my little pet,” purred the prince as he patted his posterior. “Because you’re going to spend the entire day in there. From now till I return to my room, you won’t be leaving the depths of my shorts. So I’d get comfortable with ass, if I were you; the two of you are gonna be VERY well acquainted when this is over, heh heh…” Licking his teeth lustily, Leona strode across his room. You squirmed anew as you could feel his butt cheeks bounce and shift with every step…then your eyes widened as, suddenly, your face was forced deeper into his musky cleft. A new tightness seemed to overtake you, and you could hear Leona grunting slightly as he strained with something. The movements and sounds you sensed soon informed you of what was going on: Leona had just put on his typical tight-fitting pants. While you blushed at your situation, Leona fastened his trousers, and once again looked in the reflection. An evil smile crossed his scarred face: the pants completely hid you from sight. Not even he could detect much sign of anything amiss…let alone something as wild as a shrunken human, crammed into the back of his underwear. Chuckling nastily, he quickly clothed himself in the rest of his school uniform. Then, he gathered his items for classes, and began to stride through the halls of Savanaclaw, and the rest of Night Raven beyond. Leona’s walk was a thing of grace and beauty, which you had all but committed to memory; the swaggering strut of an apex predator, which left his hips in constant motion, his thighs pumping as they carried his tall, powerful form all the way to wherever he willed them to bring him. Now, wedged into the opening of his rump canyon, you were experiencing that walk in a whole new way. Grunts and wheezes left you as you felt the butt cheeks grind against each side of your body, pumping like pistons and pounding away at you with their smothering, suffocating heft. The chubby cheeks jiggled from the impact of each step, and each jiggle just seemed to work you deeper into the fat bottom’s inescapable embrace. You shook your head and tried to push away…but it was a fruitless endeavor. The ass cheeks smashed into you repeatedly, with hammering intensity; as long as Leona was moving, escape was totally inconceivable. The thought made you quiver for more than one reason. “L-Leona!” you gasped out, finally getting enough of your face free to speak. “Leona, I’m not sure-MPH!” Your protests were silenced when a flex of the ass forced your head into the crack again. “Shut up,” you heard Leona grumble. “I’m trying to get to class. You stay right there, Herbivore. Trust me…you won’t be going anywhere…” The devilish laugh the lion let out made you want to hate him…mostly because it made you lust for him all the more.

How dare this bullying jerk be so drop-dead gorgeous? Life was truly unfair. Finally, you stopped squirming, closing your eyes and simply letting yourself be squished and smushed by the repeated pressing and pushing of the gluteus maximus’ twin moons. Maybe you’d try escaping again later, but for now…there was nothing to but wait. As Leona strutted about, butt rocking and rolling from side to side, his ass cheeks crashing into you like a couple of tidal waves…you soon began to worry about a simple and obvious issue. Leona wouldn’t be standing, nor even walking, forever. Sooner or later, he would have to sit. You blushed bright red, unsure if you should dread that moment or call it a blessing…

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…Experience would not provide you with any clear answers, as your hormones fought a battle with your survival instincts and physicality. It was hard to tell which side was winning. Leona sat boredly in one of Trein’s classes. His position was its usual one for such scenarios: his eyes half-lidded and sleepy-looking, his head leaning in one gloved hand, the other tapping his magical pen slowly against the pages of the book open in front of him…a book he pointedly was not looking in, instead half-listening to the elderly professor’s droning, dry lecture. The handsome half-lion yawned without shame, ignoring the looks some of the other students gave him. For him, it was another bland, monotonous lesson session of information he already knew. No different from any other class with Professor Trein… …Well, he smirked. He supposed it WAS different, but only in a small way. Chuffing through his nose and rolling his eyes at his own mental wordplay, the lion subtly shifted his position in his seat. His right rump cheek stretched and lifted slightly, before settling and splaying out again. His left cheek then did the same. He rumbled as he got comfortable, little flickers of pleasure sparking in his bloodstream as he could feel the warm, soft, pleasant sensation of the puny form pinned beneath his heavy bottom. “Hope you’re having fun down there,” he mumbled under his breath, not sure if you could hear him or not…and honestly not really caring. “Fun,” you guessed, was in the eye of the beholder. Any wiggling you had been able to do when Leona was standing and walking had been stopped completely. The hard wood of the seat pressed through the back of his pants and into your spine, while the much softer, juicier, meatier surface of his giant butt fell over your whole body’s front. It was like being buried under hundreds of pounds of cake dough, the weight bearing down on you with such immense pressure, you were legitimately surprised you didn’t pop like a grape under the strain. You couldn’t see anything, lodged in a place where the Sun never shone. You tried to push up against the fat mass, but the pudge just came drooping down again, pooling over your shrunken form, as if intent on swallowing you whole into its plump padding. Leona did not move much while he sat…but every time he did, you felt it. Every grind of his gigantic butt as he shifted his posterior in his seat made your bones whine. Your lungs wheezed as you gulped in raspy breaths every time you pushed some of the fat away from your face…only for that same pudge to drop down again. The softness of his skin only made you moan and groan; it was like being caressed by a lover…before having your face suffocated beneath a large pillow. Every breath you took was tainted with the heady odor of Leona’s natural, masculine musk. That scent only grew stronger the longer you were crammed under his fat ass; it was summertime, after all, and sitting for long hours could build up some sweat in certain places, even with the rooms well-conditioned. Your own sweat, courtesy of the furnace-like warmth that radiated from the glutes of the prince, speckled your brow, only making things feel slicker. You keened as you could feel a single bead of the stuff slide across the curve of his butt crack and drop onto your head. Your heart was pounding. A mixture of various emotions - fear and ever-growing arousal predominant among them - mingled in your body. This was so humiliating, so demeaning, so generally unpleasant…yet you found you almost didn’t want it to stop. It didn’t keep you from wiggling. Thinking the lion was distracted, you tried a couple of times to squirm…but even if all the weight and pressure had allowed it, Leona wouldn’t. You could alway sense his displeasure, as a low rumble - not quite a growl, but close - would thrum through the body over you…then, he’d flex his cheeks, till your head nearly felt like it might burst. You soon got the message and quit trying to break free; each time he flexed, you could feel yourself sinking into the cleft like it was quicksand. You groaned as Leona shifted his rump more insistently; now he was clearly doing it to directly torment you, smushing his cheeks over you and shifting the rolls of fat over you in waves. “Mmmmmm…” The pleasured moan around you made you blush more. You felt him lift his rump slightly, and felt the tightness around you slacken eeeever so slightly…before he sat fully once more, and you grimaced as you were forced deeper into the crack. Suddenly, you realized…that was the point. Every shift, every flex, every motion…was pushing you further and further into the crevice between the rump cheeks. You tried to squirm, letting out muffled calls for Leona to stop…but even if he heard you, he clearly wasn’t caring, as he just flexed hard. Suction dragged you deeper into the velvety canyon of sweaty, musky rump meat. You clawed at the cheeks, but your fingers just sank uselessly into the chub, and skidded across it without getting any real purchase. “Deeper,” Leona’s voice came drifting down to you, as he had clearly decided to ignore class in favor of dragging your body into his crack by force. “Get…all the way…in there…” Each phrase was accompanied by a flex from his butt. You could feel the muscles bundled together beneath the cushioning pudge, as they worked like a set of toothless jaws to nibble you into the blackness of the booty cleft. “H-Help…help! L-Leona…stop…!” Your words were panting, gasping…totally useless. Leona chuckled, amused at your feeble voice, buried beneath his bulk. “Sink,” he hissed. “You know where you belong.” “Kingscholar!” snapped Trein’s voice, crossly. “What are you muttering about? Are you paying attention at all?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m listening,” grunted Leona. You tried to call out to the professor, but blushed when you found you couldn’t. Too much weight, softness, and plumpness was pushing on your face and your chest. You were sinking into the canyon, your feet wiggling against the silky, sensitive skin that lined the inner layer of the rump region. Your head and one arm were all that remained outside of the crack. You puffed through your nostrils as your crimson face was squished more than ever, your fingers clinging to the fatness as best you could…

Leona - without watching his movements, his eyes on Trein’s blackboard - reached back with one hand while no one was looking. He gripped one of his butt cheeks, and gave it a slight jiggle. He smirked as he heard the faint, barely audible “swulp” sound as your entire body was now completely stuffed into the partition of his posterior. Leona flexed his cheeks once more, just to make sure you were firmly lodged in the crack, then scratched his butt carelessly before returning his attention as fully as he could (which wasn’t that fully) to Trein’s lesson. Your whole body was now totally immersed in assflesh. The musky smell and sweaty sensations were stronger than ever. You squirmed, but all you could feel was the soft, thick, weighty rump chub that surrounded you. You couldn’t tell which way to move to try and find fresh air…and you knew it was hopeless, anyway, since you were still trapped by Leona’s undergarments and the trousers beyond. A moan left you as you could hear the intestines of the lion bubbling somewhere nearby, and you could feel his butt clamp each time you pawed at the bum walls, which came around you like a trash compactor… “It’s useless trying to get away,” Leona’s voice came down again. “I could keep you there forever, if I wanted, y’know. Heh…just think of that…never knowing anything but that. Left to live inside my crack…lost there for the rest of your short, tortured life…not even worth a snack, just a plaything for me to break. Tch. Sounds like it would suck, but I bet it’s making you blush like a rose, right?” “Kingscholar!” “I’m listenin’, alright?!” While the professor and the prince began to bicker, you could only curl up slightly in the canyon. You really hated it when he was right, the rude bully…

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leona panted slightly as he jogged across a stretch of flat, grassy field. His hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and he was dressed in his usual PE uniform. The one exception was the usual black sports jacket he had tied about his waist. He had left that in the lockers. The lion paused beside a tree and sighed, wiping an arm across his sweaty brow as he eased himself into the shade. He was carrying a large bottle of water in his other hand. Smacking his parched lips, he opened it up and slugged down a few refreshing swallows of the cool, clear liquid. “Ahhhh,” sighed Leona, as he leaned back against the trunk and closed the bottle up. The tip of his tongue went past his teeth and lapped at his lips. “Damn…it’s scorching today. I’m used to hot weather, but it’s still pretty warm…warmer than usual, I think.” A devious smirk crossed the lion’s face, and his scarred eye glistened with superior, sinister pleasure as he glanced back over his shoulder. His tail lifted and curled itself around one of his butt cheeks, cupping under its weight and lifting it slightly. “Must be absolutely broiling in there, for you,” he remarked. “Heh…try not to drown in all that sweat, if you can. Must be real-huh?” Leona’s eyes widened and his smirk faded as something shifted under his pants. He suddenly felt a shiver race up and down his spine and let out a shaky breath…as his rump visible jiggled and wobbled, as if it had a mind of its own. Finally, the lion’s fluttering eyes opened fully, and he chuckled as the motions stopped. “Well, whaddya know…you actually managed to wiggle free. Gotta admit, I’m almost impressed. Almost.” You couldn’t answer at first. You gasped and choked, desperately drinking in air that wasn’t reeking of lion sweat and musk. Your entire shrunken form was soaked in the same, your hair stuck to your brow, as your upper half dangled over the waistband of Leona’s athletic pants. It had been a lucky break: you had realized, while he had been exercising, that the looser fit gave you a chance to try and break free. The problem was…you hadn’t been given a proper chance. When the lion wasn’t sitting on a broomstick or an exercise bench, he was running or leaping. For all his talk of using mind over muscle, the athletic prince kept a good workout regiment. You felt delirious, loopy after huffing up the fumes of sweat and rump musk that built up over the day, and exponentially increased with the workout. Wiggling free from the lion’s rump and crawling your way upwards left you totally out of breath; it felt as if you’d been swimming against the flabby mounds. You looked up at Leona. You tried to look angry, but you had a feeling you weren’t succeeding; your face was still very red, both from your flustered status and how tired and hot you were. Combined with your sweaty disposition, and the way you so pathetically rested, unable to pull yourself free any further, not to mention how you winced as blessed daylight hit your eyes…you could understand the superior, self-confident smirk Leona was giving your rather pitiful form. “Enjoying our anniversary yet?” “You…are so…awful…” Leona just rolled his eyes. “Say that when you don’t look like a bruised tomato,” he snorted, and took another drink of water, closing his eyes as he relished the feeling of the cold drink descending his esophagus. He opened one eye when he heard a puppyish sound leave you, and smirked around the bottle top as he saw the longing look you gave to the bottle. He pulled it free from his lips and licked them, shaking it teasingly. “What’s the matter?” he mocked. “Thirsty? I’d think you’d be getting plenty to satisfy your thirst back there.” “Are you referring to your sweat, or just to a different kind of thirst?” “Yes,” Leona said, showing off his fangs. You just groaned. “When I get back to normal,” you threatened, “I’m going to spend a whole week waking you up early, whether you need it or not.” “I’m shaking in my sandals,” drawled Leona, then narrowed his glowing green eyes. “Besides, you seem to be under the impression I’ll LET you get back to normal.” You froze up and blinked up at the lion man. “Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?” you squeaked, nervously. “Well, I COULD just crush you between my butt cheeks or let my ass smother you to death,” said Leona, shrugging carelessly and crossing his arms over his chest. His tail lifted up, the end of it twitching back and forth, like the pendulum of a clock. “No one would ever know what happened to you…no one but me. Then I could just gobble up your puny body, and digest the evidence. Heh…bet you’d end becoming part of my ass, too. So I guess, in a way…you’d never escape it. I think that sounds like a great way to finish our anniversary, don’t you?” You knew he was just teasing. At least…you certainly HOPED he was just teasing. With Leona Kingscholar, it was hard to tell. Regardless, you couldn’t help but whimper and cringe. Leona snickered, the sun glinting off his pearly fangs. “You’re way too easy,” he said. “And you’re a fatass and a meanie.” Leona looked bored. “Meanie? Seriously?” he droned. “What are you, five? Not even my nephew uses words like that…often…” “Meanie!” you snapped back, deliberately. You even stuck your tongue out, trying to annoy him with a bit of childishness. You had to get SOME small revenge after all this, after all. The attempt backfired, however, as Leona scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, you wanna be a brat?” he snorted. “Fine: just for that, you’ve lost your rights to air and sunlight…not that you ever had them in the first place. Get back in my ass!” Suddenly, the lion’s tail whipped down, and you yelped as the rope-like appendage worked to push you back into the prince’s pants. Your arms flailed and you let out a series of sputtering sounds as you fought to shove it away, but you failed. The tail twisted and turned, working like a snake to shove you into place. Once more, you found yourself sinking into the sweaty, musky, warm, cushioned folds of the fat ass crack. A final gasp was cut short as you were squelched back into place, the plump butt cheeks jiggling as the tail pulled free and lashed itself back to its proper state. Leona nodded to himself, firmly, finished his water, then tossed the bottle into a nearby trash bin before continuing his jog, leaving you helpless as you felt his rump bounce and grind around you with every movement of his powerful legs.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Afternoon was changing into evening when Leona finally arrived back at Savanaclaw. He yawned as he strolled through the halls of the oasis-like dorm, a cool breeze whistling through his sweat-stained locks. He walked with his eyes closed, hands behind his head, lazily sauntering along as his mind wandered. The housewarden was looking forward to a cool shower and a much-deserved catnap. His ears pricked up when he heard a pair of voices chattering ahead. “Still no sign of them?” “Not so far. You sure you didn’t see them in Ignihyde?” “Nope. Ortho scanned the whole dorm, said he couldn’t find any sign of them there.” “Well, why didn’t you ask him to scan the whole SCHOOL?” “...Oh, yeah. I guess I didn’t think of that.” “Do you ever think at all?” “HEY!” Kingscholar frowned and opened his unscarred eye. Ahead, he could see two familiar Heartslabyul students nervously bantering with one another, clearly out of place in Savanaclaw. “Alright, let’s be smart about this…after all, they can’t have disappeared into thin air,” sighed Ace Trappola “I dunno…at this point, it’s looking like they might have,” mumbled Deuce Spade, scratching the back of his head as he glanced about…then he noticed Leona. His eyes lit up and he waved the lion over. “Oi! Leona! Can we ask you a question?” “I think that counts,” Leona dryly replied, and tried to walk past the pair. “Hey! Don’t just ignore us!” yelled Ace. Leona stopped and glared back at them. He was quite annoyed. “Do you REALLY wanna get my attention that way, Trappola?” he growled warningly, baring his teeth and twitching his tail in irritation. “Sorry,” Ace apologized. “It’s just that we’re looking for the Prefect.” Leona’s tail twitch changed from one of irritation to one of self-gratified amusement. “Really?” he purred. “They were supposed to come help us with a study session earlier, but we haven’t seen them all day,” Deuce explained. “Since you’re in charge here, and since…well…you know…you ARE kinda their boyfriend? We were wondering if you would know where to look for them,” Ace added. Leona grinned widely. Oh, this was just too priceless. “I saw them briefly at PE,” he replied. “Since when do they take PE class with you?” frowned Ace, crinkling his nose, clearly confused. “I never said they did,” Leona reminded him. “I just said I saw them at that time.” “And you don’t know where they could be now?” Deuce checked again. “Psh. I’m not my Herbivore’s keeper. They’re a grown-ass human being, they can take care of themselves, don’tcha think?” “Sure, WE think that,” said Ace, now narrowing his eyes. “But since when did YOU think that?” Leona just yawned. “Is this interrogation over? I wanna get some sleep,” he growled, grouchily. “If you don’t have anything else to add,” shrugged Deuce, then looked at Ace. “C’mon, let’s see if maybe there’s a clue in Diasomnia. They’re pretty close to Malleus, after all.” “Well, we definitely won’t HEAR anything there…Sebek will yell our ears off, I just know it…” Leona chuckled as he watched the pair leave. “If that overgrown lizard has a hint, tell him thanks for keeping an eye on MY plaything,” he called mockingly. The Heartslabyul duo frowned back over their shoulders; they didn’t always like hearing Leona call you that…but they also weren’t TOO put off, as they simply and calmly left. Once they were gone, Leona smirked wider, eyes glowing with a somewhat evil gleam as he looked back over his shoulder and patted his warm, wide buttocks. They wobbled at his touch. “No one knows where you are, my pet,” he whispered, in a sultry, silky sort of way. “Nobody but me. How has it been, huh? Soaking up all my sweat and musk…feeling all my weight pound and squeeze around you…I bet when I take off these pants, I still won’t be able to even tell you’re in there.” He paused, caressing his rear end almost affectionately, a thoughtful, supreme look on his face. “I’m almost tempted to leave you in there. Forever. If it were physically possible, I absolutely would…let you live up my ass. No more daylight. No more air. Only me…all around you…completely and inescapably. No one would ever see you again; I could keep you to myself. My little plaything. My little rump toy.” He growled and flexed his fat cheeks hard; one could see the muscles tighten and bulge beneath the thickly-padded layers of ass cushioning, and dimly hear the keening, breathless sound as the ass tightened around your whole body, burying your face, your hands, every part of you in musky, grimy booty flab. “My. Little. Pet,” Leona said, his voice as dark as it was dominating. Still keeping his ass tightly clenched, he shifted his hips, the cheeks of his bottom grinding against each other like a pair of boulders. He bit his lip and moaned as he heard a desperate, scared, yet EXCITED noise come from your battered body…a little more pressure, and he could easily BREAK you…smother or smush you flat… …He relaxed with a shuddering sigh, and patted his butt…this time right over the crack, as if the pat was meant for you. Then, sashaying his hips happily, he strutted along again towards his room. By now, you were so dazed, lightheaded, and squashed till you ached that you barely qualified as conscious. You struggled for air in the hot, damp cleft of the lion’s rear end. The bouncing and swinging of his bottom had come to have an almost soporific effect, as you were thoroughly soaked in his odor and his moisture. You were beyond struggling, beyond even wriggling; you were no longer even sure if the voices of your friends had been real or imagined. As humiliating, hot, and horrid as it all was…you were blushing. In fact, you were even smiling. It wasn’t fair…it wasn’t FAIR how stupidly hormonally addled you were, or that he was so perfect he could play to those hormones almost without trying. Part of you hated all this…but more and more, you’d come to enjoy it. In a way, you were experiencing Leona’s day in a more intimate, attached way than most would ever find it possible. You might as well have been part of him…part of every step…part of every motion…honeyed thoughts that made it hard to feel angry, as the strength and pure power he displayed (with such crude methods, in more ways than one) was beginning to get you drunk. Or maybe you’d just been inhaling too much of his musk. Neither would be surprising. You were not freed till, suddenly, Leona removed his pants. You FELT it happen, and HEARD it; you didn’t actually see. You were lodged so deep inside his crack, you could not see even the thinnest line of light from the world beyond. So, when a familiar hand burrowed its way in, and pulled your soggy, limp body out, you were unprepared for the flash of surprisingly sterile light that shocked your eyes. When your vision became blurry, you found yourself staring at Leona’s handsome face. His expression was smug and amused, as usual…but there was a hint of affection there, as if seeing you so helpless and soppy, like a kitten dragged out of a rainstorm, was cute to him. You quickly realized that you were in his bathroom…that he was topless…and he was about to enter the shower. You immediately figured out “topless” was not ALL he was, and decided - against your less savory judgment - against looking down towards…certain areas. Ahem. “Heh. And I thought you were pathetic before,” mocked Leona, but the words carried a loving lilt, rather than a sharp bite. He sniffed the air, then grimaced. “Phew! Damn, you stink!” You tried to snipe back a snarky retort of, “Whose fault is that?!” You were so dizzy and so tired, however, all you could manage was a slurred response that vaguely sounded like, “Foosballs are flat.” The lion just smirked. “Didn’t catch a word of that. Try mumbling louder, and maybe I’ll actually care about what my ass sponge has to say,” he taunted. You could only groan. You weren’t sure you could physically blush any more, but your face found a way. Leona rolled his eyes. “Tch. Figures. Seriously, how kinky can you get?” he half-sneered. “I bet you’d like it if I actually did that, huh? Tied you to a scrub brush or something, used you to help clean up while I bathe? Ha! Don’t think I didn’t hear that squeak! You have some serious issues, you know that?” All you could respond with was a sort of weighty nod; you felt like there was a lead weight somewhere in your face, making it hard to raise your head, even as the sleepy dizziness continued to surround you. Leona shook his head with a snort, then a tenderness came to his scarred green eye as he held you in his palms and stepped into the shower, shutting the curtain. “Well, maybe we’ll save that for another time. For now, let’s get you cleaned up. You look like a sick rat,” he said. You certainly were not going to complain or argue. Leona cleaned you up during his shower, in-between rounds of washing his own luxurious mane, and rinsing the sweat and dust from his own tanned, beautiful body. You said nothing during the whole process, but throughout it, you found it hard not to laugh deliriously: you had never expected your first communal shower with your boyfriend to be like THIS.

“Oi. Cut that out and stop squirming. You’re gonna get soap in your mouth. Tch. I’d call you a pain in my ass, if you hadn’t felt so good back there…”

Even after being thoroughly disinfected - and dressed in a miniature pair of boxers, which…you felt it was best NOT to ask the origins of (you had a feeling they probably belonged to someone who was now PART of the butt you were so well acquainted with) - you still felt rather loopy after your experience. “Woozy?” teased Leona, noticing the way your body rocked and heaved in his palms as he approached the bed, wearing nothing but (a fresh, clean pair of) his own boxers once again. “I dunno if that’s the word,” you admitted honestly. “But I feel…whatever you feel after going on a Tilt-a-Whirl a few times too many. Except most Tilt-a-Whirls don’t smell like a lion’s butt…” “...Most?” “I went through a lot more than you know, back in my world.” Leona just chuffed with amusement. “Whatever. Bet most Tilt-a-Whirls don’t leave you looking like a beet for almost twelve hours straight either, huh?” Somehow, you found the strength to smirk with a hint of mischief all your own. “Most Tilt-a-Whirls aren’t drop-dead handsome princes, either,” you replied. Leona smirked. He was well-aware of his own rugged good looks…but something the way he seemed to purr indicated he was nevertheless always happy to hear somebody else comment on them. Especially you. You giggled softly as Leona lay on his bed and placed you on his bare belly, stretching his arms out behind his head. He raised the brow arched over his good eye expectantly. “Well? Do you want to rub it, or go inside it?” he growled. “Can’t I do both?” you chirruped. “You are literally the size of a rodent. I WILL eat you.” “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Leona sighed and dropped his head back on the pillow. “I liked it better when you were shoved up my ass,” he grumbled. You blushed, but still sniggered…yet you obligingly gave the overgrown cat-man the belly rub he desired, all the same. Leona’s smile became one of purest peace as he thumped his tail with satisfaction against the mattress, eyes closed as he enjoyed your tiny hands playing across his belly. “Mmmmmm…almost as good as your wriggling,” he mumbled. “Gee, thanks,” you drawled, sarcastically. Leona just purred in response, then opened his left eye. “So…how was it for you?” he asked. The words weren’t teasing or taunting. This time, it sounded like a sincere question. You hesitated, biting your lip…but finally answered slowly: “It was…um…hotter than Hades. In more ways than one.” Leona snorted with laughter and shut his eye. “Yep,” he grunted. “That’s about what I expected.” “There were moments I was almost afraid you might crush me, or that I might suffocate to death,” you admitted, very softly. Leona’s smile slackened. His eyes remained closed. “You really think I’d take it that far?” he asked, in an even sort of voice. “Honestly, some days I really don’t know,” you admitted, then patted his stomach with a smile. “But right now, it’s safe to say I trust you.” Leona purred a little louder at that. “Had to have been pretty nasty, judging by that funky smell when I let you go at last,” he rumbled. “Oh, it was,” you said. “Kinky little weirdo,” he muttered. “Trust me, you have NO idea,” you chuckled. “I think I do,” Leona said, dryly. “You’ve admitted just about every raunchy, random little fantasy pulsing in that head of yours to me by this point…how’d the reality match up to this one?” “If I say, ‘it was better than I expected,’ will you think I’m a freak?” “I ALREADY think you’re a freak,” Leona said, blandly…then added, with rare affection, “You just so happen to be MY freak.” You gave a blushing smile, and replied, “When I decide whether that’s a compliment or an insult, I’ll tell you what I think.” Leona shook his head in a weary sort of way. “I’m surprised you said that. You were trying to escape an awful lot, it seemed to me.” You stopped rubbing at those words. Leona scowled, looking irritated at those heavenly sensations stopping, but he didn’t scold you. Yet. “What’s wrong?” he asked, instead. “Don’t tell me you didn’t actually like it.” “At first…not really,” you confessed. “But as the day wore on, and throughout the whole experience…I couldn’t deny how…how…I don’t even know what the WORD is, but despite how gross it all was…I did like it. Like I said, it was one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced. Heh…not sure I wanna spend another WHOLE SCHOOL DAY in the back of your shorts, but…” You trailed off, shrugging one shoulder bashfully. Leona had the self-satisfied smile of a cat that had swallowed a canary. “I’ll keep all that in mind,” he said smoothly. “Great,” you mumbled. Leona chuckled, then a wicked grin crossed his face once more. “Before I clock out for a snooze - and I think you oughta do the same - there’s one more ‘special gift’ I have in store for you,” he said, devilishly. You half expected, in that moment, for him to pop you into his mouth and swallow you down. Given the greedy smile on his face, showing how much he enjoyed HAVING you, you would not have been surprised. But instead, after carefully plucking you up…Leona rolled over, laying on his belly, before dropping you on top of his pillowy posterior. He smirked over his shoulder as your hands and knees sank slightly into the fat of his warm, soft butt. “That’s your bed for tonight,” he said, in a rather firm voice. He yawned, then added, “If I feel you try to move off of it, then I will make you part of it. So try not to wriggle in your sleep too much, got it?” “G-Got it!” you squeaked. “Good,” said Leona, and yawned again. His expression softened as he lay his head on his pillow. His tail curled and flopped to one side, leaving his boxer-clad bottom completely exposed beneath you. He closed his eyes, nuzzling into the pillowcase. “Goodnight, Herbivore,” Leona mumbled tiredly. “Happy Anniversary.” Despite yourself, your own voice was light and tender as you replied, “Happy Anniversary, My King.” Leona’s ear twitched, but the only audible reaction he gave was a snore. In typical Kingscholar fashion, he had fallen asleep in scant seconds. Chuckling softly - and swearing your face would be permanently stained crimson, given how much blushing you’d done that day - you lay down and curled up like a kitten atop the right rump cheek of the lion man. By morning, you would awaken, your normal-sized head resting upon his ass cheek like a pillow…but for now, it was a mattress for your whole body. The musk had been replaced with a fresh, clean, almost floral scent, thanks to the recent shower…and the skin beneath his boxers felt smoother and softer, even more supple than before. It wasn’t long till you yawned, and found yourself drifting off to sleep as well. It hadn’t exactly been a conventional anniversary, at least for you… …But as slumber took ahold of your mind, you could already say you were going to dream about how great next year might be. You would say you were looking forward to it…but, under the circumstances, it was better to say you were looking BEHIND. …Oh, come now. How ELSE would you imagine this writer to end such foolery as this? He has to have SOME fun.

The (Rear) End

#kink fic #fanfic #disney #twisted wonderland #leona #leona kingscholar #butt entrapment #rump smothering #butt crushing #macro/micro #implied vore

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